I hate those parents who are always like my kids the smartest kid in the world because 1. its pretty obnoxious and 2. its not true because mine is.
...
I know, hate me if you will but I totally feel like that sometimes. My kid really is the smartest kid ever.
Khage has officially learned to ride a bike, a big boy one with no training wheels. And while it doesn't take a genius to ride a bike, it does take coordination, dedication and that raw fearlessness. All traits of Einstein I am sure. Not a foreshadowing, just an observation.
I am a combination of shocked, proud and sad over Khage meeting this milestone head on. Brad ran holding onto him for all of 50 yards before Khage no longer needed him. He fell only once before he was riding that bike like he has been secretly sneaking off to lessons in the middle of the night. Sidenote: He hasn't, trust me. I alarm the house at night so as to catch him with his body half out a window mid escape...
Enough from me, watch my baby not be a baby anymore.
That was only Khage's second time on a bike and now he's going off curbs, down driveways and pedaling while standing up. Add impressed to the cocktail of emotions I have got going on right now.

Sunday, October 19, 2014
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
HARLYN AND HER PAINTED TOES
That's what happens when you leave Harlyn at Nana's house.
Brad and I took the stand against nail polish on babies well before Harlyn was born, obviously we didn't memo everyone. Khage confessed to me that half way through the paint job he told Nana Mommy says nail polish IS NOT for little girls. Seems that little tidbit didn't halter her any.
And obviously because Nana is a grandparent she gets a free pass for just about everything, which is why I saw the pink painted toes, simply smiled and said nothing of my disapproval.
And thanks to this post that she's probably reading right now, I wont ever have to. hi mom.
Of course were not truly upset over Harlyn's toes being painted, after all its just nail polish and it chipped off in less then a week. That aut to teach you not to pass on the top coat.
And if anyone feels like testing our free pass theory, be aware... pierced ears are not included in that decree. That action will not go unpunished. Insert smiley face emoticon followed up by emoticon dagger, so you know were being playful but we also mean business.
Friday, October 10, 2014
SO WE MEET AGAIN
Oh how I have missed you. You being my blog... but because I'm feeling super affectionate I will throw one of those missed you's at you too random reader. Unless your my mom... because I just saw you.
Now imagine me sitting at my desk lovingly petting my blog. After six years this blog has weaseled its way into my heart and I just don't feel right when I abandon it for weeks on end. But it was for a good cause, a cause that may benefit this blog... but probably not. I'm back in school, taking a few courses... and I would like to tell you that may translate into less run on sentences but who am I kidding that's my calling card. My professors hate it I am sure, but you guys like it right? Right? Hello. Bueller.
Just to clarify, the run-ons set the conversational tone around here, so don't be too quick to bust out the red pen and attack my stylistic errors. Here, on this blog, we okay run-ons, we skip out on our weekly posting obligations and sometimes if were feeling froggy we post staged pictures of ourselves.
BAM.
Can you feel that scholarly aura radiating off that picture? Was is the highlighter? Stack of books? Oh, the banana. It was definitely the banana. That was Brad's idea... gotta have that brain food people.
Anyway, I'm back in school and I haven't found a super effective means of keeping my kids distracted long enough to enable me to do school work AND blog. So until then were gonna have to settle for some shoddy posts every other week.
And just for reference, all those books above are not required reading materials for school, just a few randoms I picked up from around the house. One of those books may be titled The Dangerous Book for Boys and until James Dean and Marlon Brando magically team up and starts teaching I'm not convinced that book will ever become mandatory.
But just so we are clear, if that class was offered I would absolutely take it. Abso friggin lutely.
Now imagine me sitting at my desk lovingly petting my blog. After six years this blog has weaseled its way into my heart and I just don't feel right when I abandon it for weeks on end. But it was for a good cause, a cause that may benefit this blog... but probably not. I'm back in school, taking a few courses... and I would like to tell you that may translate into less run on sentences but who am I kidding that's my calling card. My professors hate it I am sure, but you guys like it right? Right? Hello. Bueller.
Just to clarify, the run-ons set the conversational tone around here, so don't be too quick to bust out the red pen and attack my stylistic errors. Here, on this blog, we okay run-ons, we skip out on our weekly posting obligations and sometimes if were feeling froggy we post staged pictures of ourselves.
BAM.
Can you feel that scholarly aura radiating off that picture? Was is the highlighter? Stack of books? Oh, the banana. It was definitely the banana. That was Brad's idea... gotta have that brain food people.
Anyway, I'm back in school and I haven't found a super effective means of keeping my kids distracted long enough to enable me to do school work AND blog. So until then were gonna have to settle for some shoddy posts every other week.
And just for reference, all those books above are not required reading materials for school, just a few randoms I picked up from around the house. One of those books may be titled The Dangerous Book for Boys and until James Dean and Marlon Brando magically team up and starts teaching I'm not convinced that book will ever become mandatory.
But just so we are clear, if that class was offered I would absolutely take it. Abso friggin lutely.
Sunday, September 7, 2014
ON TODAY'S NEWS...
What can I say, I am a proud wife. I can't help but shout it from this blog's metaphorical rooftop.
Brad made it onto the front page of MSN news. Hear that kids, your Daddy is famous. Excuse us while we gather in the living room and share in a celebratory dance. Should only take a few minutes, Harlyn gets winded awful quick.
What was he on the news for?
Oh, I thought you'd never ask...
No not the guy standing there being unproductive. He's the one on the right. The one working.
Also, the one partially hidden. Why am I not surprised, he's kinda shy like that.
But that IS his butt.
Trust me, I know his butt when I see it.
That's him running a jackhammer and making rubble of the concrete. He's such a hearty man running that power tool.
If your affiliated with Ridgid or Carhartt, I fully expect to receive a call from you shortly to discuss endorsement options. Have your people call our people, then you'll be free to get all the pictures you want of Brad's best angle.
No face shots. Like I said earlier, he's shy.
We'll be in touch.
Brad made it onto the front page of MSN news. Hear that kids, your Daddy is famous. Excuse us while we gather in the living room and share in a celebratory dance. Should only take a few minutes, Harlyn gets winded awful quick.
What was he on the news for?
Oh, I thought you'd never ask...
Do you see him?No not the guy standing there being unproductive. He's the one on the right. The one working.
Also, the one partially hidden. Why am I not surprised, he's kinda shy like that.
But that IS his butt.
Trust me, I know his butt when I see it.
That's him running a jackhammer and making rubble of the concrete. He's such a hearty man running that power tool.
If your affiliated with Ridgid or Carhartt, I fully expect to receive a call from you shortly to discuss endorsement options. Have your people call our people, then you'll be free to get all the pictures you want of Brad's best angle.
No face shots. Like I said earlier, he's shy.
We'll be in touch.
Monday, August 18, 2014
SHE DID IT
Harlyn is the most strong willed baby I know. At fifteen months and with legs that make her hover over most other kids her age, can I hardly call her a baby anymore?
Doesn't matter, I will anyway.
My baby, she officially did it, she has stopped sucking on her fingers and has refrained from hair pulling. Two struggles I foolishly feared would last clear through her high school days. But not this girl, she's too determined for that.
If your child suffers from either of these habits, I hope our methods can help you, help your child through this phase...
We helped her stop finger sucking by wrapping her finger in medical tape during the day, and put her in a night shirt with the sleeves stitched closed while she slept. She made quite the effort in removing the tape all throughout the day, but I was persistent and would reapply it continuously until she understood that I too meant business. After a week of that game, she hardly noticed the tape there at all. And a few times, when I forgot to tape her fingers, I noticed as she would pull her hands to her mouth and decide against it... she truly is my strong willed baby.
As for the night, I figured breaking the sleeping habit would be the hardest because she finger sucked as a form of self soothing, especially when she was tired. I foresaw her waking up through the night with the inability to put herself back to sleep, but happily that wasn't the case. The first night she was obviously upset and confused, but fell asleep after only 15 minutes of tears and didn't wake up until morning. And it only got easier from there.
Because finger sucking and hair pulling went hand in hand for her, as one habit was broken the other slowly went away as well. I haven't even seen her attempt to pull her hair even though it has slowly begun to grow in.
It has been about 3 months since we decided to shave her head, and I can't believe the progress she has made. I may be hasty in proclaiming this habit of hers broken, but truly it doesn't matter. For her, right now, within this moment of her life, she did it. She found other ways in which to express herself, to sooth herself and to communicate her emotions to us. Hasty or not, I am incredibly impressed by her.
Bald or fuzzy haired, she is our beautiful little baby with a will that makes us proud.
Doesn't matter, I will anyway.
My baby, she officially did it, she has stopped sucking on her fingers and has refrained from hair pulling. Two struggles I foolishly feared would last clear through her high school days. But not this girl, she's too determined for that.
If your child suffers from either of these habits, I hope our methods can help you, help your child through this phase...
We helped her stop finger sucking by wrapping her finger in medical tape during the day, and put her in a night shirt with the sleeves stitched closed while she slept. She made quite the effort in removing the tape all throughout the day, but I was persistent and would reapply it continuously until she understood that I too meant business. After a week of that game, she hardly noticed the tape there at all. And a few times, when I forgot to tape her fingers, I noticed as she would pull her hands to her mouth and decide against it... she truly is my strong willed baby.
As for the night, I figured breaking the sleeping habit would be the hardest because she finger sucked as a form of self soothing, especially when she was tired. I foresaw her waking up through the night with the inability to put herself back to sleep, but happily that wasn't the case. The first night she was obviously upset and confused, but fell asleep after only 15 minutes of tears and didn't wake up until morning. And it only got easier from there.
Because finger sucking and hair pulling went hand in hand for her, as one habit was broken the other slowly went away as well. I haven't even seen her attempt to pull her hair even though it has slowly begun to grow in.

Bald or fuzzy haired, she is our beautiful little baby with a will that makes us proud.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
A LESSON FROM KHAGE....
Khage: Me and sister and Daddy have popped boobs.
Me: What?
Khage: Me and sister have popped boobs and so does Daddy.
Me: Oh ya?
Khage: Ya, and you have blown up boobs.
Me: Well, okay then.
Nice to know that, to him, were all just walking around with balloon boobs on our fronts. All at various degrees of inflation of course.
Me: What?
Khage: Me and sister have popped boobs and so does Daddy.
Me: Oh ya?
Khage: Ya, and you have blown up boobs.
Me: Well, okay then.
Nice to know that, to him, were all just walking around with balloon boobs on our fronts. All at various degrees of inflation of course.
IGNORE THIS
No seriously, you should ignore this.
This isn't one of those don't look, even though I am secretly hoping you'll be intrigued enough to look moments. I really think you should skip this one... unless your name is Harlyn.
After all this post is about her first birthday, the same one that happened over TWO months ago.
Told you. You should have ignored it. But now I am hoping that since you came this far, you might as well take a little walk with me. Oh how fun memory strolling can be... especially when its long over due.
We don't have to hold hands, but it could be nice.
Harlyn started off less then pleased to partake in a day dedicated solely to her. My kids are funny like that, they never want the spotlight.
They get that from their Daddy.
She loosened up once the food came out... that she gets from me. We served hot dogs, with plenty of fixins to create delicious dogs from Chicago style to chili cheese, tator tots, pasta salad and coleslaw. Nana baked her beautiful lemon cakes, we decorated with cheery hues of yellow and pink, and I displayed her monthly pictures which only made me want to cry. We planned pot painting and flower potting for her kiddie guests, and it became pretty necessary to hose them off in the sprinklers soon after.
She was gifted with everything a little girl could ever hope for: a purse, baby pram, cradle, tea set, clothes, a doll house, and books. She was spoiled rotten and I think she knows it. Her Tete Cole even made her a dress, just about the cutest thing you will ever see. We are still waiting for this scrawny chick to grow into it, but beware when she does she will be modeling it for all to see.
In true girl fashion, she didn't dive into her cake. She sampled a few licks before she realized it was sugary goodness and then all refinement went out the door. Nothing the sprinklers couldn't handle.
It was a wonderful day, celebrating our little sunshine with a bunch of family and a whole lotta love.
This isn't one of those don't look, even though I am secretly hoping you'll be intrigued enough to look moments. I really think you should skip this one... unless your name is Harlyn.
After all this post is about her first birthday, the same one that happened over TWO months ago.
Told you. You should have ignored it. But now I am hoping that since you came this far, you might as well take a little walk with me. Oh how fun memory strolling can be... especially when its long over due.
We don't have to hold hands, but it could be nice.
Harlyn started off less then pleased to partake in a day dedicated solely to her. My kids are funny like that, they never want the spotlight.
They get that from their Daddy.
She loosened up once the food came out... that she gets from me. We served hot dogs, with plenty of fixins to create delicious dogs from Chicago style to chili cheese, tator tots, pasta salad and coleslaw. Nana baked her beautiful lemon cakes, we decorated with cheery hues of yellow and pink, and I displayed her monthly pictures which only made me want to cry. We planned pot painting and flower potting for her kiddie guests, and it became pretty necessary to hose them off in the sprinklers soon after.
She was gifted with everything a little girl could ever hope for: a purse, baby pram, cradle, tea set, clothes, a doll house, and books. She was spoiled rotten and I think she knows it. Her Tete Cole even made her a dress, just about the cutest thing you will ever see. We are still waiting for this scrawny chick to grow into it, but beware when she does she will be modeling it for all to see.
In true girl fashion, she didn't dive into her cake. She sampled a few licks before she realized it was sugary goodness and then all refinement went out the door. Nothing the sprinklers couldn't handle.
It was a wonderful day, celebrating our little sunshine with a bunch of family and a whole lotta love.
Monday, July 28, 2014
CAMPING JULY 2014
We will never take these kids camping again.
Never ever.
And when I say never ever again, what I mean is: we will probably go again in a few months.
But definitely not next month.
Brad and I hardly deserve that kind of torture.
Although, our wilderness devil children would probably love that, purely to pang us.
Stop. I need to explain this cheesy fingered situation. While we were scoping out the ideal campsite we were all chowing on Doritos, and every time Harlyn wanted another one all we could see was her little orange dusty fingers shoot up from the back seat. We died. All 6 times.
And that concludes the fun portion of this trip.
Commence all the crying and wining, disguised in photos as an enjoyable family camping trip.
Where there is mud, these kids will go. I'm not complaining, I love me some filthy outdoor babies. Just as much as I love getting all Sacagawea on them later, and bathing them in the lake.
Do you see how close I am? I think if I were quick enough I could have snatched him up and skewered him. Maybe this one's too cute to eat, but he had a little fat friend running around that I wouldn't mind gettin' my hands on.
Grandma and Pompa even drove up for a day to go fishing with us. These kids are so darn lucky, clearly they wouldn't have made the drive just to smell see Brad and I.
Things I want to remember about this trip:
Once the kids got a whiff on the fresh air they morphed into miserable little people, but returned to their natural selves once the campsite was completely packedup and the fire was put out. oh joy.
While camping, both kids were happiest once when we let them play inside the Tahoe.
Khage zonked out early in the evening, Harlyn on the other hand was on crack and refused to go to sleep at a normal hour. She spent her time winding down by jumping all over her slumbering brother while Brad laughed uncontrollably, only encouraging her poor behavior.
While hiking, Harlyn was thrilled to stop and pick flowers.
Khage absolutely loved fishing, but even more so he just loved playing with the bait worms.
So much in fact, he wanted us to take them home, sadly we made him release them into the wild. #myparentsaresouncool
#getoveritkidoryoucanwalkhome
#whyamitalkinglikethis
#makeitstop
...
Ya. I think were done here.
#whyamitalkinglikethis
#makeitstop
...
Ya. I think were done here.
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
TO MY WIFE
Jamee Mae
Thank you for all you do and all the selfless acts you
commit, our children and me are truly blessed, they do not understand yet as much as you would like but I certainly
see it every day. You have sacrificed so much for the sake of our children. There
is no better match for me our are children then you. I don’t tell you enough (well
I've never told you) but if it wasn’t for
you I wouldn’t be the man I am today you
help me in everyway . Thank you for
being such a wonderful person, the light in our little world, the sanity(
sometimes), the laughter, and all the greatness in this crazy little home. Thank you Jamee Mae for all that you do. I
love you so much honey.
Your
loving husband.
Friday, July 11, 2014
STORY STONES
Khage loves when I tell him stories. He asks me all day long; before naps, when he's bored, in the car, during lunch, while he's on the pot, while I'm on the pot... too much? I always go too far.
Anyway, its kinda our thing. Like a club that only we are apart of. Brad has gotten in on it a few times but that Khage always seems to come running back to the real story telling master. And I loved telling him stories, up until the other day when...
I ran out of stories.
So there Khage sat, crossed legged in front of me, with his eyes burning a hole into my soul, anxiously waiting for a magical tale... I had nothing.
I went into panic mode.
Come on guy, I'm an adult for crying out loud, I am growing out of my imagination by the day. I can't just think up fictional stories on a whim anymore. And I surely can't think up multiple stories in a day to appease his undying requests. I have life insurance, I read nutritional facts on the backs of food labels, and I watch black and white movies... I'm no longer a kid. I'm a full blown adult and my head is consumed with other things outside of the realm of mystical lands and talking animals.
Something had to be done. After all, I didn't want to be kicked out of the club. I have never belonged to a club before, especially one as prestigious as this.
And so Story Stones were born.
Technically speaking, they were found and painted. Never born.
Now I just grab a few of these bad boys and build a story around them. Khage loves it, and I'm still an honorary member of the club. Khage is none the wiser.
Tell me you saw the little house. Pretty proud of that little house, with it's picket fence and a tree to boot. Who would have thought my hidden talent was in tiny rock painting? Is that a thing, tiny rock painting? If so, I should compete.
And people say stay at home moms just watch tv all day. Puff on that, haters.
Anyway, its kinda our thing. Like a club that only we are apart of. Brad has gotten in on it a few times but that Khage always seems to come running back to the real story telling master. And I loved telling him stories, up until the other day when...
I ran out of stories.
So there Khage sat, crossed legged in front of me, with his eyes burning a hole into my soul, anxiously waiting for a magical tale... I had nothing.
I went into panic mode.
Come on guy, I'm an adult for crying out loud, I am growing out of my imagination by the day. I can't just think up fictional stories on a whim anymore. And I surely can't think up multiple stories in a day to appease his undying requests. I have life insurance, I read nutritional facts on the backs of food labels, and I watch black and white movies... I'm no longer a kid. I'm a full blown adult and my head is consumed with other things outside of the realm of mystical lands and talking animals.
Something had to be done. After all, I didn't want to be kicked out of the club. I have never belonged to a club before, especially one as prestigious as this.
And so Story Stones were born.
Technically speaking, they were found and painted. Never born.
Tell me you saw the little house. Pretty proud of that little house, with it's picket fence and a tree to boot. Who would have thought my hidden talent was in tiny rock painting? Is that a thing, tiny rock painting? If so, I should compete.
And people say stay at home moms just watch tv all day. Puff on that, haters.
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