Oh, hello.

I just thought I'd mention that I put some new photos up on my photography blog. As the weather gets BETTER....(knock on wood..) there will be MORE and MORE! And those of you who share your photography with ME, I hope you don't mind if I share those sites with others. Thank you.

Literally.

I was TRYING to post up some interesting news for all my avid readers out there because I know what a page-scroller my blog is..
But Jack kept trying to SPIN my chair as I was sitting on it and it was driving me insane. So I handed him a crayon and some paper and said "GO DRAW MOMMY A GIRAFFE!"


I turned around to find my obedient son...

...drawing a giraffe.

Round Two.

Dominic has his schedule, and goes as follows.
8:00am Come inside and have us go from sink to sink to let him drink out of almost every single one.
9:00am go BACK to the door he just came in from, where he has been for the past 12 hours, and request to go back out to eat some more food.
9:15am Come BACK inside and go upstairs under my bed.
2:00pm As soon as things upstairs have settled and we are all elsewhere, Dominic feels it is time to take his DIRTY, SHEDDING self and get ONTO my bed, on the white duvet, and curl up a few times and settle in for a nap.
6:00pm He peels himself off my bed leaving a gross, furry, dirty spot and goes BACK outside for more food, and we don't let him back in till 9am.

I thought perhaps, I will try a few things to avoid him being on my bed. First, I shut the door, but Jack likes to let the cat go wherever he is meowing to, so I know Jack let's him in. Then I thought about putting a towel in the bed, so he could sleep on that. But when I came in there at 2pm, he sat JUST OUTSIDE the perimeter of the towel and looked at me like I was some sort of idiot. Then I thought I would just forget about making the bed altogether, and fold the comforter up to the headboard.
That didn't take either.


Here is a CLOSE UP, by the way, of the way he is looking at me just then:

It's as though he's thinking "This is more fun than I've had in a LONG, LONG time."
So I have decided that either I get rid of the cat, or get used to doing alot of laundry, MORE often.

And ironing. Cause that thing is from IKEA and needs to be ironed after every wash. And that's a King.

So who wants a cat?

Is that the little boy I carried....

Once upon a time, jack was quiet, and couldn't move anywhere. Where I put him, was where he was when I'd come back. Those are the days I miss.

However, I don't remember consciously talking to him the way I was...I don't remember that at all. My voice has gone down two or three octaves.

What am I DOING!!

So I get to "work" today and there is a list of people to call to ask if they'd like to be in the Club Championship here at Ivory Ridge Tennis. I haven't had to play Telemarketer in awhile. Not since my "temp job" days.. So I am not used to the fact that people still have home phones. Where MANY people use them. Not just the person you are trying to contact. Here are a few calls I made. One right after the other.

Ring, Ring.
"Hello?"
"Is your mom there?"
"...this is she."

(ooooooo ouch.)

Ring, Ring.

"Hello?"
"Hi, is Susie there?"
(kid:)"Just a sec. MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!"
(clunk clunk clunk)
"Hello?"
"Susie?"
"No, this is her husband.."

(YIKES.)

"Hello?"
"Hi is Pince there?"
"Who?"
"Pince?
"There is no 'Pince' here."
"Oh I'm sorry I must have the wrong number..."
"There is a 'Vince'....are you looking for Vince?"

(why yes, the "V" on this list left for me DOES look alot like a "P".)

"Does Vince play tennis?"
"Yes."
"Is he there?"
"No."

(Strike three.)

The Finale

I drew a diagram of what I discovered yesterday morning. Jack has done this before, so I should know better. But he also has thrown my phone, pressed every button with unnecessary force, and dropped it at least a dozen times- and it somehow managed to work.

However, this was the final straw, and after a few close attempts at being ok- the phone finally gave up and is no longer.

On that note, everything on there is lost, including all your phone numbers. Please, if you will, email me your phone numbers so I can collect those again.
Starlalmd@hotmail.com

Thank you.

Backyard friends...not the Backyardigans..

This is David and Victoria. Every afternoon they grace us with their presence just below our deck. They don't even come for food really, cause sometimes they just like to sleep there. But I do try to give them a little something every now and then. Jack likes to sit and "quack" at them. And once they are gone he stands out on the deck with his hands palm-up, asking "Where th'ducks go?"

They are our friends.

Stupid Cat.

Can't drink out of a bowl like REGULAR animals.

Cruel Beauty

The face of a boy who is about to have his head shaved.


Jack has lusterous locks, he truly does. And they are beautiful, I'm often asked if I color his hair. Which I think is a stupid questions and I'm quite offended by it, but at the same time I think how lucky Jack is to have such pretty hair.
However, it grows like a weed and maintenace is a nightmare. I just went to Keish a to get his hair cut and it's not the funnest thing trying to make him sit on that booster and tie something around his nck that prevents him from using his arms. So Josh and I decided that we would give ourselves a break, not to mention Jack- cause this hair gets mega staticy and sticks to his face and ears. But it wasn't in Jack's best interest.



We wanted to give him a mohawk, just for Easter Sunday...but the kid wouldn't hold still and the buzzer was all over the place. So was hair. So we just cleaned him right off and what was left was a perfectly shaped, buzzed head. But also- what seemed to look like a cancer patient.


After a nice thorough shower, Jack was cleaned off and dressed, and he decided to grab the phone and call Grandma to tell her what we did to him.

Reiterate.

So for those that thought I was being a baby, (DAD) I found these pictures on my work computer. These are the same conditions I was dealing with during that white out, but this is from the Tennis Club's point of view. Good thing I was cozy in my hotel, or I would have had to shovel.