Sweeeet Bar Moves

Mark's birthday was on Friday. You know what that means. We (and by "we," I mean Mark because I was DD) drank until people could fly and everyone was beautiful. We went to the local VFW for our favorite 35 cent drafts and $1.35 bottles. Yes, we are big spenders. Friends and family all showed up to join in with the festivities.

I wish that I had taken more videos than I did. My brother in law broke out with this "noodle leg" dance which had me absolutely crying because I laughed so hard. Here's how to do it. Stand up (duh), put both feet together (If you only have one leg, sit back down- you can't do this). Now bend your knees and swing them (both together) side to side while continuously bending your knees. Hilarity. I promise. Also, it helps to make a painful face, which you cannot completely see because I was laughing too hard to take any decent picture.

I did some fancy-pants dancing moves of my own... all by myself. The singer was playing some Latin song that I must've fancied, because I strutted out there and danced my rear off, all the while making this "EYEYEYEYEYE!" sound, which sounded more like a battle cry, I'm sure. But I thought I sounded like a spring bird and moved like a pro. We'll just keep it at that, shall we?

In addition, Mark's sister showed me how to transform yourself into a midget at a bar. I'm sooo very thankful that I was sober because I probably would have peed my pants by that time.

10.31.07

We had big plans for Halloween this year. Jordan wanted to be "Christmas" for Halloween, while Dylan wanted to be a motorcycle rider. I thought I could save some money, and impress people with my craftiness if I made the costumes myself.

When I got about halfway through Jordan's costume, I had a mental breakdown. I cannot sew, glue, or duct tape a Halloween outfit to save my life. Mark had to take over.

Dylan's costume wasn't even attempted. Instead, we opted to let him pick one out at the store. He chose a "Camo guy" outfit. It was really called "Delta Force" to be a military costume, but he knows nothing of military and/or war. "Camo guy" was just fine with me.

Mark went as a football player because he can, and I went as Mark because I'm cheap.

Here are the results:

Jordan was festive, Dylan was invisable to the untrained eye, Mark was big, and I looked like my brother.



And yes- Jordan was battery-powered:

Small town entertainment

The next bit of fun to be had was the carnival that came to town. We spent about $50 on funnel cakes and unlimited rides for the boys. Dylan went on all of them while Jordan wouldn't get off of my hip to join him. I was brave enough to join Dylan on the spinning teddy bears.

Later on that week, we went to one of the nation's largest truck shows. The monster trucks put on a good show for all of the people there who came equipped with their mullets and confederate-flag-inspired bikinis. The girls were showcased later on in the bikini contest. I would have joined, but they said I had too many purty teef.

I'm On It, Boss

(taken by MARK!)

I'm trying to think of good excuses for my absences. I can't think of anything specific. It's been more of a plethora of smaller incidents.

So, I believe I left off with a dead fish and a sad child. Since then, we have replaced Golden the red Betta with Fishy the blue Crowntail Betta (Oooohhhh).

I've been back to Philadelphia to have another EEG. I don't know what the results are yet, but I was happy to indulge in a cheese steak for my troubles.

My mom threw a killer party for my oldest brother who graduated, and my younger sister who is leaving for Nepal in a little while. What started out as a quiet little get-together soon became a blow out, thanks to Jose. My sister-in-law and I were in charge of passing out the Margaritas. Mom soon found out that perhaps that wasn't the best idea. After sending my husband and my brother to get more tequila and margarita mix, things got even better. Mark and I brought over the Nintendo Wii, and everyone seemed to reeeaaaally get into it, especially the boxing game.

Last Friday Mark and I "celebrated" our sixth year anniversary. When I say "celebrated," I really mean high-fives as we pass each other on our way to the bathroom because of some horrid digestive system failure disease. Romance on the potty. How sweet.

In between these days, the boys and I spend our time racing through the tomato fields (I always win....slowpokes), collecting egg-shaped rocks, and picking flowers. Enjoy some new photos in the photoshow above. I've been snapping away...

No promises on a new update- just promises to try harder. That DOES SO count! Sheesh.

Mug Shots

I did it with last year's holiday family picture. I wanted to see how we've changed in our celebrity status.... Perhaps I should have let it go after all.


Mark: He's now the bad guy from Superman II. Scary. And who is big lips there? I don't see it.



Dylan: I guess the kid pictures would be a given. However, most kids have the same features, fat cheeks, small features. I won't accept that he has been downgraded to a baby Madonna.



Jordan has inherited the Norah Jones face that was given to Dylan last year. Round faces, big eyes. No surprises there.



I really don't know what to say here. I know I haven't downgraded this year. Last year I had Paris. Ew. But Patrick Stewart? Really?! I should definitely get to the dermatologist.



Are you brave? Try it out yourself at MyHeritage.

Christmas Claus

HEY MOM! Look here! As asked, I have put together wish lists via Amazon.com for your shopping pleasure through the season to have sherry....err, to be merry. So, take a look on the right hand side of the blog for a new section with all of our worldly desires. I'm putting tons of things on the lists to give different ideas for all price ranges. I'll be adding stuff as the commercials rot into the kids' brains. If you use Froogle, you can find the toys for a cheaper price too.


A note on the title for those confused folks: My brother and I got into a very heated argument when I was younger on what the fat guy's name was. He insisted it was Santa Claus. I was adamant that it was Christmas Claus. I think I remember a moment in the fight when I realized he was right. I still argued that it was Christmas Claus. I don't know which part of my heritage I should blame that on...

Puppy Love

Mark's sister, Dawn, asked us to babysit. She has no kids, but she has one gorgeous dog. A puppy, really. The kids love him, he doesn't jump, he's very patient and insanely toleranty of kids, he rarely makes any kind of noise, and his drool is kept to a very bare minimum. LOVE him.

The only problem? He is painfully shy. He hides behind his owners whenever someone comes too close for his liking. When they aren't around, he finds a good corner to hide in.

She dropped him off with his food (which he never touched), a leash, a toy, and one sock. He came into our house, crawled under the table, and went into a scared rabbit mode- standing very, very still- no blinking even.

You can imagine how funny it was to the kids...a dog that plays hide and seek?! Woot!

As the day wore on, Guinness became less afraid of us. The kids had their Power Ranger riding his back, and they played peek-a-boo with him as he tried to sleep.

During the night, when we were all in bed, I could hear his dog tags jingling downstairs. When I came down to check on him, I turned on the light in the living room, and he froze.

There he was, in a half-pounce stance, eyes as big as saucers, and with Dawn's sock hanging from his mouth. He stood very, very still, moving his eyes around as if to tell me, "What?! I'm not doing a thing. Just standing here...."

After turning the light back off, and returning upstairs, I heard his jingling tags again.

Now, if I could just find a way to either kidnap him, or convince Dawn that he's better off with me...

Hello, apparently my name is Jeanne.

Stumbling through the internet, I came across a site that you can upload a picture of yourself, and the site finds celebrities who you most resemble. Freaky, and depending on the lighting of the picture you've submitted, downright insulting. In any case, I wanted to share my results.

Okay, let's review Mark, shall we? The "most likely" results start at the top and work their way down clockwise. (Note the percentages) I don't know many of these people, and I am assuming that they've based Mark's looks on facial hair alone. A bit unfair, no?

I believe that Jock made the connection between Dylan and Norah a while ago. I was shocked to not see the other celeb who Jock referred to: Elijah Wood. What cracks me up here is William H. Macy. So very random. I will leave the Jeanne Moreau thing for a minute, but remember her, okay?
Did you remember her? Strange. Jordan happens to look like the young version, while apparently Dylan is the shrivelled up version of her. The only other person I recognize here is Heath. And I do think they look alike.


Ew. How do I look like I belong in with Paris, Mary Tyler Moore, and Joan Cusak? I'm done here. I think I need a better picture of myself.

If you want to be flattered and/or insulted, load up your own picture at My Heritage.

Hot cha cha

To ensure the children wouldn't kill eachother in the heat yesterday, I took them to the playground first thing in the morning. The water mixed with the sand made for a perfect mess.

The water shooting from the colorful mat pops up in random order and intensity, startling Dylan every time without fail.

I let them run wild as we were the only ones there. When I felt that they were tired, thirsty, and dirty enough, we went for lunch.

Last night the kids were able to swim in the pool with Mark's mom while we bailed hay. We did about 300 bails in two hours. Not too bad seeing that the inside of the barn was easily 20 degrees hotter than outside.

Needless to say, all four of us crashed not too long after we got home. I won't complain too much, because I do realize there are people who live with this temperature much, much longer than we do. We are also going to have some cooler weather tomorrow.

Almost a new pet

A large aluminum column supports the corner of the roof covering our side porch. Birds are attracted to it because it provides a nice, safe, dry spot to make a nest. Unfortunately, the aluminum column is open at the top. A Robin found that out yesterday.

While unloading all the groceries from the car yesterday, I heard a frantic scratching and fluster coming from the column. Dylan heard it too. After I explained what had happened to the bird, he was distraught that this bird was scared. He spent the rest of the day trying to comfort and sooth the poor bird. Dylan stood there rubbing the column, saying, "Oh, it's okay little birdie."

When Mark got home from work, Dylan informed him that the bird would be dead if we didn't get him out. So, Mark used his saw, a Dremel tool, and (after I insisted) a gardening glove (very lovely in green) to cut out a spot for the bird to escape. Jordan (who is obsessed with birds) had no idea what was in the column making all the noise, but once the bird appeared, he squealed with delight, chasing after it. Now today, he has been spending some time staring at the same column. I assume he is waiting for more birds to appear.

And, yes, after all that waiting for the magical freedom shot, I missed it.

70 and Sunny

We spent the entire day outside. After feeding lunch to the kids, we hopped into the truck, drove a few miles, and spent the afternoon at the park.

We found that Dylan is a natural at soccer. (Which is a good thing, seeing that we have signed him up for soccer in the fall)

After dinner, we went fishing at the pond behind our house. It's an easy walk (about 3/4 of a mile), and the kids love to look at the mountains and fields as we make our way there. Tonight Dylan caught his first fish. It was, this big! Ironically, the batteries in the camera died before I could take a picture.

Another note: Some family members have been asking for pictures. Instead of me making a trillion copies for everyone, click on any picture in the photoshow above. You may then click on "open photo in new window." Once you are on the photo page in Flickr, you may choose to "order prints," or (easier and free) click on "all sizes" to choose the size picture you like, download, and print them out on your computer. Ta-da! (Two pictures were added to the photoshow above from today.)

Happy St. Patrick's

You know what's great fun today, even before cracking open your first Killians Irish Red? Saying something, but putting a "Mc" in front of it.

Examples from tonight:

Mark: I'll do the McDishes

Dylan: I just McFarted.

Sarah: I have to stop at the McMac machine first.

Dylan: Jordan's a McButtFace.


Of course cursing allows for more humorous comments, however, with the presence of my young nieces who visit this site, I will allow for your imaginations to try them out for yourselves. Filthy McNasties you all are.

Another one bites the dust-a

The 24 hour bug (otherwise called the bird flu in our house because it first appeared immediately after Thanksgiving) has claimed yet another victim. I got it about three weeks ago. A few days later, Jordan got a very light case of it, and only vomited on me four times. Not too bad if you ask me. This past week, Dylan got it. He spent three days recovering from it. He seems to be more susceptible to nausea and dehydration than most people.

Last night Mark was sucker punched with it. All day we were looking forward to his company party. It's not your average company party because he is actually friends with his boss and laborer, and obviously his brother. So we were excited to get the night out. As we drove to the restaurant, Mark rolled down the window for some fresh air. I knew it was going to be a long night.

We were home before Dylan had fallen asleep. Wash your hands, this bird is looking for another victim.

And goodnight to the old lady whispering "hush."

The boys have a plan. It is strategic and well thought out.

If Jordan sleeps through the night, Dylan won't. If Dylan sleeps soundly, Jordan is crazed. And if both miraculously sleep past 5:30am, Mark will accidentally (sure...) drop a knife downstairs while making his lunch, waking both up. I swear they do it to keep me from making rational decisions during the day time.

"Sure, Dylan, you may have another poptart and then play Medal of Honor on the computer."

"I guess Jordan can chew on that wire. I mean, It isn't plugged in right now."

"Well, of course I would love go to the hunting store with you again today. I'll even help you pick out new camo socks this time, Mark!"

Once. Just once I would enjoy to sleep, undisturbed, until the late hour of 7 am.

(Entry title courtesy of Goodnight Moon by Margaret Brown)

Hey, Hay!

I know they're blurry, but I did the best I could- given the circumstances. Dylan's school had a field trip today to the pumpkin patch. It would have been great, but parents were required to stay with their kids, and I just could not have taken Jordan on a field trip with me. Instead, I cleaned my house all day while Dylan induldged in a little Cinderella watching. After watching a mouse run through my house yesterday, it threw me into full obsessive compulsive disorder. I scrubbed my kitchen floor for three hours. I have the carpal tunnel and chemical burns to prove it.

Anyway, to make up for the lost field trip, we took the boys on a hay ride with the tractor tonight. What a beautiful fall night for it as well. Both of the boys loved it, as expected. Dylan even became brave enough to join his father in driving the tractor.

We made it home just after watching the sunset, but with enough time to wash the diesel fuel smell from my hair so that I may be able to watch Martha with no distractions.

Farmer's market

One of the perks to having some of our land rented out, is that it is rented to a local farmer. When we want to, we are allowed to pick some of the fresh veggies and fruit. Yesterday I spent some time picking the perfectly ripe pears, apples, and pumpkins. This is a huge help, come autumn. As many of you know, pumpkin farms sell their pumpkins by the pound, and when you take kids, they make a beeline towards the biggest pumpkin there.

So, being a beautiful day, we took the kids behind our house and picked some pears. Once we got to the pumpin fields, we told Dylan that he can pick out any pumpkin that he wanted. So, we looked, and looked, and couldn't find one that he liked at all. God, this kid is picky. All of a sudden, I hear Dylan yell out from behind a row of brush, "Here's my favorite pumpkin!"

Sure enough, there was Dylan- surrounded by a sea of orange, beaming from ear to ear, crouched down beside the smallest pumpkin in the entire field.