This Guy

I love a man that's easy to please. 

Like this guy. 

Yogurt-covered raisins=happy.  Mama playing peek-a-boo=hilarious.

Nate is 18 months old now.  It's such a fun age. 

We wake up to him yelling "basketball!" "football!" and "Daddy...are you?"  He thinks he's three and a half and wants to do everything Brooke does.  He loves dancing to Michael Jackson and he's dying to play in the litter box. He calls me "Daddy." He loves letters and numbers and shouts them out at the top of his lungs.  He fake burps and says "excuse me."

And he's (usually) one happy dude.

See?

Yeah. I love this guy.

Snow Day-Ja Vu

Did I already write this post? 

Something tells me that I already did. And something also tells me that this will not be my last snow day entry this winter...or maybe even this week.

I love it when it snows so much, ain't nobody goin' nowhere.  In other words, Scot was home with us today!  We had a ball.

Brooke has decided that coloring and cutting are awesome.  That's all she wants to do.  Ever.  So we did.

Nate broke the Official Snow Day Rules by changing out of his pjs.  But when one smears blueberries all over one's self, one must break the rules and change.  The mismatched socks keep the snow day spirit, I think.

Sigh.

This snow day was different because we bundled up Brooke and set her loose.  I thought I'd spend 10 minutes bundling so she could spend 5 minutes playing.  I even took pictures of the clock when I started and when she went outside.  That girl proved me wrong.

My snow angel made a snow blob.

She shoveled with the "Brooke-sized" shovel.

 She pretended the snow was pixie dust.

And one hour later she came in.  But only because I made her.  Because she looked like this.

I love this picture because she's so happy even though she's freezing.  And because it reminds me of the part of Christmas Vacation where Audrey's eyes are frozen after the family goes out to find a tree. 

I don't think her eyes were quite frozen.

Anyway, we had cookies.  You know a snow day is reason enough for me to throw the diet out the window and bake some cookies.  Peanut butter cookies...yum!

Later, I snuck out to take a couple of pictures. 

The sky was beautiful. 

 I had the feeling I was being watched...

I'm so thankful for the snow.  And for what's waiting back inside.

Snow Day

Today we are snowed in.

 (I have no idea where the "W" took off to.)

I love a good snow day.  A snow day.  One day.  Day two might put us all over the edge.  But one day was fun. 

We made snow ice cream for the first time.

Directions:

1. Mix together 1/2 c sugar, 1 tsp vanilla, pinch salt, 1 beaten egg, 2c milk
2. Freeze self while searching for clean snow
3. Pour mixture over snow



4. Do not eat any because you're trying to get into shape.  But think seriously about pouring mixture into your hot tea, which, for the record, is a poor substitute for any kind of ice cream.

Nate wore his favorite outfit for us. 

His almost favorite outfit.  Two socks and a diaper away from his favorite outfit. 

Oh, outie bellybutton. 

How do I love thee?  Let me count the ways... 

And now for a nap.  Time to drag The Blanket upstairs.

 

 

Brooke found some toys that mysteriously disappeared about two weeks ago.  It was like Christmas morning up in here. 

 

And that just about sums up our snow day.

Love in an Elevator: The Anniversary Post

I met Scot the second day of my freshman year of college.

That morning I stepped onto my dorm elevator to go to my first Intro to Physical Therapy class (because I was a physical therapy major for about five minutes).  As I stood on the crowded elevator, I overheard some guy say that he was going to Intro to Physical Therapy, too.  I looked up, way up, to see dark brown eyes peeking out from under a white Missouri hat.

       "I'm going to that class, too, " I said.
        "Can I walk you?"  Some Guy said.
        "Sure," I responded. 

"Some Guy" turned out to be Scot, and I was already impressed. Seriously, what 18-year-old guy politely asks a girl if he can walk her to class?

So Scot and I walked to class and talked and laughed. Then we sat and talked all through class.  (Dad, it was just an Intro to Physical Therapy pass/fail class. No tuition dollars wasted. Unless you consider that I have never been a physical therapist.)

Anyway.

We dated. He taught me to love football and I taught him to tolerate sorority parties. We hung out with each other's friends.  We drank coffee and studied at Memorial Union.  I cheered him on in intramural sports.  We sat on the columns and the balcony of our dorm and talked until the wee morning hours. He gave blood for me during Greek Week after I nearly passed out.  We had some of the best times of our lives together.

As poor college students, cheap dates were a must. We often took long walks through campus together.  One of our favorite places on campus was Peace Park. Rumor had it that if you walked over the little bridge in the park with your date, you would marry that person. We walked over it many, many times.

Before long we were completely inseperable and I knew he was "the one." He made me laugh. He was always so thoughtful and kind and good to me. He was my best friend. I knew I never, ever wanted to be without him.

Winter of our senior year he got down on one knee and proposed on the bridge we'd crossed so many times together. I cried my eyes out.

And ten years ago today we got married!

(Me throwing the bouquet over everyone's head and into the fireplace in the back.)

So, happy anniversary, Scot! What an amazing 10 years. We've moved five times, lived in three states, gotten degrees, changed careers and had babies.  I can't wait to see what else life has for us.

I thank God for you every single day. 

And I'm so glad we were too lazy to take the steps.

Christmas 2010: Part 2

For the second part of our Christmas we headed out to see Nina and Pop Pop. The kids were so excited to go to "Nina's house" again. 

Brooke was more than willing to help pass out gifts.  And to rip into them.

One of the favorite gifts:  a Fancy Nancy ensemble, complete with purse, jewelry and feather boa.  "Ensemble" is a fancy word for outfit, as Fancy Nancy would say.

You know girlfriend needs her some cute shoes.

Do you ever see my family and wonder, "Why are they all wearing Mizzou stuff?"  Because we get it for Christmas and because we love it.  That's why.  These two are ready to get in the game... 

After we opened gifts we played and played and played.

My mother has a Hannah Montana wig.  Long story.  Scary, isn't it? 

We love you, Nina and Pop Pop!  We had a wonderful Christmas with you!

Christmas 2010: Part 1

We had a great Christmas at home this year.

We woke up first thing in the morning to find that Santa had come.  The cookies we left by the fireplace were gone and the gifts were under the tree. 

We dug in.

By the way, does anyone know how to Photoshop out snot? 

I got Brooke a doll even though she's never been interested in them. I thought maybe if she had a more realistic-looking doll she'd play with it.  It's so sweet when little girls play with dolls.

At first it looked promising.  Brooke named the doll Sassy.  She held her and patted her. It was sweet. 

Then she dropped her. And there she stayed.  The end. 

The Santa aftermath.  And sweet hair, Mom.

When the chaos of gift-opening settled down, we read the story of Jesus's birth, a story the kids have heard many times over the past few weeks.  Brooke likes to pretend she's baby Jesus. Maybe a slightly inflated sense of self?

We spent the afternoon playing with the new toys.  Tea, anyone?

We watched the snow.  The beautiful, Christmas-card snow.

We (briefly) played in it.

I made a small Christmas dinner for us.  I decided to tackle a new kind of stuffing this year.  Herbs, cranberries, apples, sausage, and bread (obviously).  It was really, really good, thankyouverymuch. :-)



Unfortunately, the meal went downhill from there.  What's wrong with the picture below?

The child on the left is crying even though she's about to be served a much-better-than-usual meal.  Child on the right (not pictured) is screaming, too. 

Seriously, I have no idea what was wrong with either one of them.  It was weird.

So Scot and I exercised some outstanding parenting: we got frustrated, parked the kids in front of the TV and ate a nice Christmas meal together, just the two of us. And as much as I had wanted a family meal, it was really nice to have dinner alone. I didn't even have to cut Scot's food or wipe his hands off after dinner.  

Christmas of 2010 was a very merry one.