Mom, here’s your update.

Roz has eaten her first pancake.  She has also joined the daily-banana-for-breakfast bunch and eats it just like the boys.  I just hand her the banana.

I have the boys singing the tune to Far, Far Away on Judea’s Plains because it’s been stuck in my head.  Who knows why.  Just this morning Brookston sang the tune with the words “ambulance truck am-bu-lance truck. Fire truck and fire truck, go outside.”

Brookston feeding Rosalyn.

We have a sugar ant infestation.  If I had to choose any bug infestation to have, it would be sugar ants.  Sometimes, I tell myself that they’re being friendly and just trying to help me get things cleaned up.  It’s teaching me not to lean against the counter when I’m doing dishes because they’ll crawl up my shirt.  I was always getting my shirt wet doing dishes.  Really wet.

Since I just revealed grossness, here’s a picture of my kitchen – perfectly clean.  Because this is how it always looks.  Always.

The boys have given up their naps and I, in turn, my sanity.  Theirs was willingly given, and mine unwillingly.  Now we have “quiet time” and that stays in quotes.

Rosalyn pulls up on the furniture to stand.  She gives high fives, claps her hands, and crawls fast enough that she can harass B&E if she wants to.  I encourage this behavior.  And if I hear “don’t eat that, Roz, don’t eat that” ten more times today I’ll…I’ll...I’ll…*sigh.  I don’t know.  Roz has three Moms.  Two are misguided for certain, one we’re not certain about.

The Roz Baby.  Nice bruise, eh?

The boys still won’t eat mashed potatoes and gravy.  I know, I know.  You’re saying “they can’t be your kids, Nicole.”  But I think they are my kids -- enough to know not to get in the way of me and the gravy.

We have the greatest neighbors.  They are heaven sent neighbors and I love them.  They are teaching me what it means to be a good neighbor and I’m taking notes.  We just went to the 35th annual (or something like that) block party.  It was in the street fantastic.  I’ma blog more about that later.

Need a shower?  There’s a handy setting on the hose for that.

Rosalyn is a library book assassin. If you have any books you’re not fond of, request to have her over.

These days I say cool things like: “Brookston, don’t touch your sister with your hot-dog.”  And “Everett, are you having booger trouble?”  And “Let’s not put the books in the dishwasher.”

Important Dates to Remember

A day ago Rosalyn crawled for the first time en route to a red Ferrari 250 GTO with the number 19 on the side.   Once in her possession she munched on it.  She’s teething.

Here’s a picture of Roz.  No GTO though, this will have to do.

Approximately 8 days ago Everett successfully climbed onto a rooftop.  He had a grand time until he was chased down by the authorities.  

Here’s a picture of Everett –not on a rooftop.

Approximately 35 days ago Brookston was bitten by a pig.

Brookston – not getting bitten by a pig.

we’ve moved. sort of… we’re moving? still….?

So yeah, we’ve moved, but we’ve things over at the old place still. There is no place for it here.  Yet.  I mean, there will be.  Or there will be a yard sale.

Here are a few pictures of the new place in it’s early move in stages because that’s all I’ve taken so far.

 

I’m thoroughly enjoying our new place.  First of all it’s a little house!  Oh, goodbye apartments.  Also, it sports a washer and dryer.  I use my own driveway, with no threat of being towed.  There is so much light!  Oh, I love the light.  Wood floors are a blessing and a treat when you live with kids still developing motor skills and moral discipline.  I now have fancy high speed internet, but no phone service.  Ah, well.  It’ll come.  Our neighbors have brought us dinner, offered childcare, and enthusiastically talked about the block party coming up. 

So, we’re a bit more moved in than the pictures relate, but I’ll have photos of that later.  Maybe once we’re actually out of the old place.

We’re off on vacation soon, and so our life is interesting.  Bye now.

famosity

I don’t know any famous people.  I’ve never run into one in the airport.  I’ve never caught a glimpse of one as they stepped into their fancy car.  Now, however, thanks to a good old friend of mine, I can at least say that I personally know someone with their  picture hanging up in Times Square. 

Here’s the link to the article.

and here’s another article about the ad campaign.

He’s a dedicated follower of fashion.  I wonder how tall his head is there on that billboard.  Head height seems important when you’re famous, don’t you think?

 

mormon.org

 

Here he is on the pass along card too:

He’s in Times Square and pockets everywhere.

big dog, little dog

there’s only a 1 letter difference between died and diem, and only a 1 letter difference between carpe and carp, but there’s a world of difference between between a dead carp and carpe diem.

the OB

OB isn’t what you thought of when you first read it.  it’s the Original Blogger, which apparently i--nicholas winston frederick empey—am.  and that’s not my real name.  if you’re at all interested in reading the rantings and ravings of a 17-18 year old male then by all means be my victim:

http://kingvitamin.livejournal.com/

Two Years

Our boys have been on the earth for two years now.  We celebrated with train cakes, because “train” is usually the first word uttered in the morning, the first word uttered within sight of the computer, and the first word uttered upon beholding a pile of books.  Uttered is a weird word. 

Luckily, despite our trouble with the medium, the first word the boys uttered when they saw our cakes was “train.”  Phew.

 And that’s all the messier it got.  Nice job boys.

 

Roz didn’t get any cake.