Look Out Michelangelo

Tonight, after a bit of a tantrum (note the splotchy red face) Grant settled down and started sculpting. He showed me his creation and even named the animal he had just rendered in Play-Doh. Can you guess what it is? Here's a closer view. Take your best guess and leave a comment. Hint: It's probably not what you're thinking.

Junk O'Lanterns

Remember our Halloween Jack O'Lanterns? Scary, eh?. Well, it's amazing what six weeks of laziness in throwing them away can do.
I think next year we're going to carve 'em in September so they're scary when they really need to be.

Cuties

The Crunchers have two major loves in their lives. First of all, cuties. I'd like to personally thank the genetics genius that came up with this citrus wonder. Other companies try, but they are not the same. The boys go through 2 boxes a week, at $7/box = $56/month. (They don't give the tasty things away.) At least it's a healthy addiction. Seedless, easy peel, the wedges just fall apart in your hands, and the taste.....oh man....
Well, Cole is trying to describe it... uh huh, right, mmmmmm, so true. Maybe the rest of you didn't understand him, but what he said was, "I never want to be without a cutie the rest of my life." We all feel the same, don't we?
Well, that brings me to the second (although equal if not greater) love of their lives, also under the cutie category. They love their Hannah, one of the few names they can both say with perfect clarity.
No boy in the world loves their piano lessons like these guys. And what comfy boots she has, too. Since her parents up and went to Utah without her, she spoiled us by hanging out a couple of nights. We sure love this girl.
Fortunately, it works out well to share this cutie. But someday, they each have to go find a Hannah of their own. Good luck, boys!

Stoned Immaculate

There will be no photos associated with this post. When I tell you the subject you will likely be grateful. You see, I have a kidney stone. I first noticed it on Thanksgiving day, and by notice, I mean like you might happen to notice someone hitting you with a 2x4 in the kidney and then kicking you in the groin. All week I've been in varying degrees of discomfort and I went to see a urologist today. He ordered a KUB x-ray and when he put it up on the screen even I could point out the the little bugger. Upon examination it turned out to be about 10mm long and 7mm wide. Maybe that doesn't seem very large but the largest one that I've ever passed was only about 4mm in diameter. That's like the difference between a lemon and a pineapple.

Okay, maybe one photo, because my sister would be disappointed if I didn't: Cute little guys, aren't they? Anyway, it's highly unlikely that this new one will pass on its own so I'll be going back next week to see if it moves and probably schedule a session on the lithotriptor.

Boxen of Laughs

We went to a see Brian Regan in concert last night. Very funny. I laughed myself hoarse.
	We forgot to bring a camera so I used my cell phone's camera to take a few shots of the stage and we got a picture out in the lobby with a cardboard picture of Brian. I would have gotten better pictures if I had asked someone to draw a picture using crayons on damp tissue paper. Anyway, I would write more but I'm watching video clips on Brian's website.

Why I Blog

(Shamelessly stolen borrowed from Pearls Before Swine)

Up To Our Ears in 'Taters

When I was a child, my parents used to look at my ears and say they were so dirty they could grow potatoes in there. Cole and Grant tried to plant some in their ears this morning at breakfast. Some kids get tubes in their ears, our boys get "tubers".
(Hairstyles courtesy of Pop)

The (Puget) Sound of Thanksgiving

We spent the Thanksgiving holiday with Pop's sister Laura up on beautiful Puget Sound. Her husband John has already posted about Thanksgiving Day and some of the family fun that ensued. We just wanted to say "thanks for a great weekend," and tell our side of the story.

After an entire morning of being driven around in a pink ferry by cousin JuJu, the boys were begging for the real thing. So off we went.
First of all, we'd like to thank Laura for bringing non-stale, non-moldy bread for the birdie luncheon, since Cole was fighting the pigeons for every piece. He basically munched down every chunk of french bread we gave him (for the birds), and wasn't above grappling over crumbs on the dock. I think the pigeons thought he was one of them.
Cole made some tight bonds with the flock, and would only leave after much coaxing, bribing, encouraging, and luring with talk of more food. (As a general rule, he doesn't go more than 5 min. without a snack of some kind.)
We finally made our way on the boat. They were overcome with enthusiasm.
"Hey, I don't see any vending machines."
"Hey, I don't see any jellyfish."
How do kids do it? It's about 39° outside, and they can't get enough of that freezing fountain water. Ice cold little hands are preferable to them. They're ready for Everest. No, really....
...watch Cole go up these stairs by himself! We might have to get Granta good Sherpa (or Grandma) to hold his hand for the climb, but he delights in the cold.
I only wish we had brought a change of clothes to see just how far into the water they would go if we weren't hanging on to them every second.
After getting a fresh reminder of how bitter cold this water is, we all went back to John and Laura's to watch "Guardian" - the movie about Coast Guard swimmers rescuing people in the Bering Sea, off Alaska.

Rainy Days and Grandmas

Grant, look! It's raining! Yeah, but it's not raining cats and dogs, just cats. Grandpa, you're lucky I was here to help you bring in firewood. This is my new bike. Grant has one just like it. This is our new old bike, which our friend Mellie donated to us. (Thanks) We only have one so we get to fight over whose turn it is to ride. It's too tall for me to reach the pedals but I pretend I'm riding FAST!

Entertaining for Dummies, by Crunchers

When we told people our grandpa was coming to visit, a lot of 'em asked us, "so, what do you do with him?" Good question. Entertaining takes lots of practice, and we don't mind passing on a little expertise.
First of all, if you enjoy it - he'll enjoy it. Grandpas are just big boys, after all. We've pointed out a few things, here. They like to be read to in silly voices (especially rhymes) and music is nice. We brought our laptop, just in case. (They're a little unpredictable.)

Never get into a one-on-one tickle contest with a Grandpa. They're just too good.

Even a two-on-one tickle match with a Grandpa is hazardous.

If all else fails, go for the face.

Encourage him to take a nap. Pretend you're going to take one, too, if that helps.
Most of all, be a monkey. Everybody loves a monkey.

Now, as for Grandmas, we'll have to do a separate edition for them, about hugs and stuff.

Christmas in November

Grant: Grandma and Grandpa came to visit.
Cole: Hooray! That means presents!
Grant: Grandpa made us a tool bench stocked with of lots different tools.
Cole: It's got storage bins and cupboards and hooks and everything!
Cole: Grandpa showed me how to use the electric drill. It was so much fun!
Grant: I was studying the jig saw. It seemed vaguely dangerous. That's why I wore the hard hat.
Cole: Pounding with the hammer was lots of fun, too. Almost as much fun as pounding Grant's head.
Grant: Oh yeah, that's why I wore the hard hat.
Grant: But you forgot to mention the new shirts they brought for us. Mine says that I'm the most handsome boy around. As if that weren't obvious.
Cole: You don't know how to read yet. I think it says that you need your head pounded. Once I finish teaching everyone about the jigsaw I'll find that hammer again and take care of it.
Grant: Anyway, we're so happy with our new tools. Thanks Grandma and Grandpa!
Cole: Yeah, and thanks especially for the workbench.
Cole& Grant: We love you!

Constructive Destruction: A Parable

Once upon a time a happy little water heater lived under some stairs. It was especially happy when the occasional spider or mouse would stop by to visit. But between visits it would get very, very sad. Naturally, even spiders don't like overly needy friends so they visited less and less. One day, when it hadn't had any visitors for ever so long, it began to cry. For many months it cried until the press board below it had become soaked and the 2x10 sub floor started rotting. Eventually the 4x8 beam below began rotting too. Finally the little water heater could handle it no longer and ceased to function. After that the needy little water tank got the attention it craved, although it resulted in a trip to the dump where it could rust in peace.

Some years later a happy little family moved into the house and found that the rotted floor was still there, and without the guilt-tripping water heater to make the area uninhabitable, the spiders and mice had returned in abundance. There were even rumors of an occasional snake visiting, although those reports are considered exaggerated. The rotted floor remained until a few weeks ago when I, your humble blogger, decided I needed a new power tool. Of course, you can't just go buy a new power tool, you have to have a project that requires the power tool you want. Well, I wanted a reciprocating saw. Various projects over the years would have been made easier with one but didn't require one quite as much as the removal of some partially rotted floor boards. Anyway, here's the hole while I was still removing the rotten wood. Keep in mind that all of this is under the stairs so the "ceiling" is only about 3 feet above the floor. Not really the ideal working conditions (especially when the boys wanted to come help) but I got a new saw out the deal. Few things are better for feeling like a man than using a reciprocating saw to cut chunks of wood out of the support beams of your house. I'd post some after pictures but we just put some carpet over it so there's not much to see. Suffice to say that I replaced the rotten wood with some 2x6 boards that were left over from the deck project in the summer. Then I used some expanding foam to seal most of the cracks, put down an insulated vapor barrier and put the carpet on top of it. Voila! New storage area for only the cost of a saw and some boards.

WANTED: Microwave Platter

Is it even possible to replace one of these without spending more than the microwave was worth to begin with? I stepped out of the kitchen and literally five seconds later Cole had gotten the microwave door open and pulled the platter out. He hasn't been tall enough to reach it without help until now. They're no longer babies or even toddlers, they're agents of mass destruction.

Monkey Mama Blues

Now, I haven't previously used this blog as a venting outlet, but just this once - I must rant. I have two little hands, which are no match whatsoever for the four hands of the Crunchers. This morning, as I was working around them to get my hair looking somewhat civilized, I realized they had taken my brush out to the living room. I went to get it (maybe 10 sec. to find it.) When I returned I found them smashing my make-up and smearing it into the rug. I had to work fast. I gathered it all up, and put it on the kitchen counter while I shook out the rug on the deck, so it wouldn't get rubbed in any worse.

Cole followed me, and grabbed a chair to get it back, but lost interest when he saw a dry erase marker. I came back in with the rug, and one cabinet was covered with marker, not to mention his shirt. I hurried and soaked the markered part of the shirt in bleach, and heard a spraying sound. What's that? Oh, Grant has the hair spray EVERYWHERE, and I quickly confiscated it, ran to get the camera away from Cole, and then back to get the soap away from Grant. "OUT, OUT, OUT," and everyone was shooed out of the bathroom, and door shut. (That's about half of what happened in 30 min, but I don't want to bore anyone. And don't even think about telling me to keep doors closed, and things out of reach. No, no, no. They are way more advanced than that. If I throw all the chairs, step stools and large toys off the deck, they'll still find a way to get on the counter and into everything. And there aren't enough secure places to put everything. It already takes me three times longer to heat soup because of all the precautions, and security I must override to get what I need.) So, we all went outside.

What can they get into outside? Plenty, really. But that's not nearly as headache inducing as the constant hitting each other with sticks, throwing mud on kitties, wrestling for the driver seat of the mower, and not being content with a single object in the world, unless the other one has it first.

So, all you other mothers of monkeys out there, please tell me - am I going to survive?