Spring Fling 2005

Chris said I needed to post some photos and FAST. Apparently I may be losing some of our "constituency" with the Brit Lit and meteorology. And by "constituency" he means himself. I'm told photos will bring back those who do not care about TS Eliot or The Wasteland...

Below are some photos from Wilson's Spring Fling at his school. Each spring parents are invited to come and hang out at school. We eat lunch and do some crafts and then play outside. It really is a whole lot of fun to do because we get to meet with the other parents and the kids Wilson loves so much. Two of Wilson's friends have been his buddies since they were infants. It's fun to see these little guys grow up.

Hopefully this will more than make up for the poetry quote.

In case you're wondering, Chris is never in any photos. He's behind the camera, snapping thousands of pictures at Wilson and me.

He's ready to go out and play - or make trouble. Both "play" and "trouble" have the same look.

Don't these two look angelic?! Don't let that look fool you. These two have been together since they were 10 weeks old. This is Wilson's best friend and co-mastermind.

This was an area where the kiddos could make parent portraits. So, naturally, Wilson wanted to draw Dietrich - the dog - first, THEN decided he wanted to draw Mommy.

Mommy doing some touch-up work on her portrait.

Wilson, Van Gogh, Crouch.

He handed me the chalk and said "I want you to write you love Wilson right here." Obviously he was supervising to make sure I did it right.

Ready to slide.

Wilson and Stewart playing on the "Big Kids' Playground".

Wilson's first ride in a tire swing - we had to remind him to hold on the whole time.

This is where Wilson told his friends how much fun the tire swing was...

And then there were three. It's hard to keep three boys from letting go on the swing.

Wilson and his two buddies on the tire swing.

April Showers Bring May Flowers. Maybe.

The skies over Fort Worth have been dark and threatening for a few days now - and yet there's no rain. I'm reminded of T.S. Eliot's The Wasteland every time I look at the clouds:
"Here is no water but only rock
Rock and no water and the sandy road
The road winding above the mountains
Which are mountains of rock without water
If there were water we should stop and drink
Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think
Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand
If there were only water amongst the rock
Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit
Here one can neither stand nor lie or sit
There is not even silence in the mountains
But dry sterile thunder without rain".

My parents are glad right now that they invested a fortune in my Baylor education so I can rattle off modern British lit while looking at the clouds and comptemplating meteorology. Bottom line kids - there's no money in the arts.

All this to say Wilson's been pulling his weight around the house trying to keep our flowers watered. He so badly wants to play outside with his umbrella in the rain, but there's no rain. Sometimes he gets a big smile on his face and says "I think I hear thunder." But again - no rain. We only want the rain though - no more tornadoes blowing over huge trees in the yard. Just rain.

Chris' parents visted this weekend. They were kind enough to help do some yardwork; shopping for annuals, planting annuals, chopping a root, levelling ground where the tree fell over last summer, laying down grass. The best part was that Nana kept Wilson busy on the other side of the yard, so no one (Wilson) was lifting our tools and playing with them. If you have to do yardwork with a 3 year old, you absolutely need to get yourself a Nana. You will accomplish a ton and there will be no whining. I take that back - there was whining. Chris was whining around 11 pm that night because he was a little achy. And I was a little whiny at the same time because I was a little cut up from trying to prune a bush near our roses. But the important thing is that there was no child whining. And for that we are deeply grateful to Pawpaw and Nana. They will probably never come visit again, but our yard looks really nice. :)

Seems I have mastered the art of rain making. Early this morning I saved the first paragraphs as drafts. This afternoon the skies opened up and the thunder produced rain... And hail. While the rain was a help, the hail most certainly killed my flowers. So either I wasn't meant to have the pretty flowers I planted this weekend, or, if you quote section 5, What the Thunder Said from "The Wasteland" you will get your rain. And some hail.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words...

...So I will let them speak for themselves. We have nights where we go play outside after dinner. These nights aren't about money or toys or anything else other than family and cheap fun. It's really amazing how many of our best family memories center around a garden hose and some 99 cent bubbles. May all of you have family nights such as these. Enjoy.

The cutest lawn-care boy in the neighborhood (cheapest too!),

We have the greenest lawn on the street from March - October!

Water just tastes better when it's on tap.

Daddy was just a little out of range...

What you can learn from a three year old.

Priceless smile - why we don't buy him expensive toys!

Wilson has no poker face. We can always tell when he's been scheming.

How listening to Daddy is bad for your health.

Payback!

Can you see the really sad boy by the A/C here? He's upset because "Daddy isn't sharing".

Chris, Wilson and dogs - Dietrich (sheltie mix) and Callie.

Our dog, Callie, is a rare "bubble pointer" dog. She actually strikes the pointer pose and then chases down bubbles. Callie is a Lab/Chow mix.

Our new dog, Callie.

Our dog, Dietrich.

As Wilson says, "Mommy, let's go make some foont-prints". Yes, that's foont-prints - not footprints. Funny because he can say "entomology", but these are "foont-prints". go figure.

Future Entomologist (Entomology - a branch of zoology that deals with insects.)

Wilson looking at bugs

Wilson's Greatest Observations from April

Wilson sees the world in a very unique way. Maybe most three year olds see the world differently than adults, but Wilson is very serious about making us aware of how he sees the world. Thus, I have decided to include some of Wilson's best observations this month:

Poppy Was a Rolling Stone - no, Poppy was a Hamster:
The most loved and hated "toy" in our house is a dancing, singing, hamster dressed up in full Marine dress-blues. You push his little foot and the hamster moves his sword up and down, dances, and sings "From the Halls of Montezuma" - the Marine Corps Hymn. Said Hamster has a habit of singing (loudly) early on Saturday mornings. As a Marine, and susequently a father, Dad (aka Poppy) believed in singing his three children lullabies. Just our lullabies were "From the Halls of Montezuma" and "The Battle of New Orleans". To continue the tradition of our proud military lullabies, the Marine Hamster was purchased and given to Wilson. Wilson loves this Hamster. He could be the only three year old not living in a military family who can sing the Marine Hymn. At any rate, we were talking - my three year old and I - about Wilson's beloved Marine Corps Hamster. He said "Poppy give me this Hamster?" "Yes, Poppy gave you the Hamster. That Hamster is a Marine, just like Poppy." Wilson's eyes got huge. If you can imagine what a Pekinese dog's eyes look like - put those eyes on Wilson's head. He looked at his hamster and leaned in close to me. He said, "Poppy was a Hamster?!"

I'm NOT Riding in THERE
Mom, Mimi, and Grandpa came to visit Fort Worth on their way from Weslaco to Missouri. They stayed over at a hotel with an elevator in it. Wilson and I went over to the hotel to pick them up and I told Wilson we needed to get into the elevator. You would have thought I was trying to abduct him the way he threw a fit and screamed on the floor. I was not about to walk up the stairs to the fourth floor (I'm that lazy), so I drug him in to the elevator. The whole ride up he clung to my leg and whimpered. We got out and he said "I'm not riding in any more alligators today!" Elevator, Alligator. Sounds the same to Wilson.

The Spongebob Squarepants Scandal
There is a battle brewing between son-in-law, grandson, and mother-in-law. Chris purchased yellow, square sponges to clean dishes with last summer. Mom, who can smell mold in a five mile radius, visited last June and said she could "smell the mold". Someone trashed the sponges (not sure who) by her next visit in July. Mom replaced nasty sponges with nice scrubbing brushes (apparently mold is choosey about what it grows on). None of this is the real problem. This weekend the storm began to brew when we washed the car as a family. Wilson always "helps" Chris wash the car. Wilson kept fishing around in the bucket of soap saying "Where's Spongebob?" I didn't pay much attention, but Chris later explained to me that Wilson thinks those little yellow sponges are Spongebob Squarepants (boy, if we had known that before Christmas, we could have made Wilson really happy for very little money!) and he uses Spongebob to help Chris wash the car. Chris told Wilson "I can't find any sponges, Honey threw them away." This transpired at 1:15 p.m. on Saturday. At 9:30 p.m. I was drying Wilson off after his bath. Very seriously he said "I need to call Honey." I dialed the phone and handed it to Wilson. He was holding the phone and looking very serious when I heard Mom say "Hello?" Wilson had only one thing to say to Honey - "Honey, you throw my Spongebob Squarepants away?!" Apparently Wilson had been silently stewing over the disposal of a moldy sponge for about 8 hours.

My Sheri Amor
This event actually happened in January: Our niece, Adison, was born in St. Louis and Christy's sister, Sheri, sent us digital photos of Adison with all of our family so we could see her. Wilson was really excited to see Adison, but I was worried about Wilson and how he would react to seeing his "brother" Nathan, Christy, or even Honey and Poppy, holding a baby when he's used to being the only grandchild. To our delight Wilson didn't care. He was fine with Honey holding Adison, Poppy holding Adison, Nathan and Christy holding Adison. He was fine with all of the pictures and he loved seeing Adison. Everything was good - until he saw a photo of Sheri and Adison. He jumped out of my lap and said "But that's MY Sheri!" Wilson loves Sheri and he can't seem to get it through his mind that Sheri is Adison's aunt. He is not willing to "share" his Sheri.

Wilson and the Baylor mascot at Diadeloso at the FW Stockyards

Wilson playing in the rain with his Winnie the Pooh umbrella

The Ten Scientific Proofs of Bluebonnets

Saturday we drove out to Ennis, Texas. Ennis is home of the Annual Bluebonnet Festival in Texas. The population of this small, Texas town quadruples the third weekend in April. Otherwise quiet country roads are jam-packed with couples - one holding a map, the other trying to drive and make out names on road signs. We've been going to Ennis to get our bluebonnet photos for three years now. That gives me the right to tell you, our family and friends, the "truths" I have learned about seeking out bluebonnets:

1. The best, easiest accessible bluebonnet patches are packed with men wielding large cameras. These men appear in the margins of all your best photos.
2. The best, easiest accessible bluebonnet patches have "trample holes" from everyone sitting, walking, and posing their children and their dogs in them.
3. The best, untampered with bluebonnet patches are all behind a fence that says "Trespassers will be prosecuted to the fullest extent allowable", "Beware of Dog", or "Beware of Bull".
4. The second best, untampered with bluebonnet patches are in the back side of a field that you have to hike across.
5. Bluebonnet patches are guarded by several thousand fire ant hills.
6. If you tell a three year old on the way across a field to a patch of bluebonnets "Watch out for fire ants", said three year old will cease in his ability to walk - he will cry and demand that his mother carry him.
7. His mother will end up wearing sandals with heels on them that day because in the past we've never had to hike for bluebonnet patches (we've gone the weekend before the festival, apparently). This creates difficulty hiking and carrying a three year old while trying to avoid fire ants and any other "critter" that may be under the knee-high weeds.
8. If you ask your husband to carry his child because you wore sandals with heels you will get a lecture on appropriate footwear. You can then say that you were born and raised in a city, with concrete "woodland trails". It will not do you any good.
9. Once you finally get to the patch of bluebonnets, three year old will cry and say "No more pictures today." You will discuss with your mate how to best get these photos: punish, threaten, or bribe.
10. We don't know why Wendy's created a 99 cent menu. We thank them for putting a 99 cent Frosty on that menu. Three year old boys will do anything - including smile in the bluebonnets for several hours - to get a 99 cent Frosty from Wendy's.

Our next Baylor Quarterback...Wilson tries on a Baylor football helmet at Diadeloso Worldwide at the Stockyards in Fort Worth.

Family photo out in the bluebonnets in Ennis, TX. 

Wilson and Mommy enjoying the bluebonnets. 

Why Blog?

So - after my initial angst with blogs and bloggers (the whole point of your innermost thoughts is to keep them innermost - not to make the whole world aware of them), I gave in and got one. For one thing I know our friends and family want to see photos of Wilson (who wouldn't?) and I know sending digital photos through e-mail slows everyone down trying to download them. For another thing, I am married to a website developer - but that doesn't mean I know anything about making or maintaining a site where our friends and family can see what we're doing. And he's busy getting paid to make customer sites and my job is "pro-bono" and that puts it way down on his list. So I decided to try my hand with the enemy blog. This thing has templates - and all you have to do is click the easy buttons. And then, POOF, instant website with our family info on it! It's magic. Or it's technology. I don't understand either. Just as soon as I figure out how to upload digital photos, we will all be set! I give this about a day before Chris complains and he makes me learn how to use a "real" website...

The hardest part - so far - was trying to find a name. You have to name your blog. And, like all things dealing with the web, everything I put in was already taken (it does not pay to be the last one on the bandwagon), so I named it "From North of Here". Just so you don't have to wonder about the name: When I was a freshman at Baylor University in Waco, Texas I went to a rush function for a national service fraternity (I'll leave out their name) with a few girls from our dorm who were interested in being a part of a service organization as opposed to joining a social sorority. While we were there, one of the fraternity members says to me "Your accent sounds like you are from up north." I was shocked to hear I had an accent since I didn't think St. Louisians have accents so I said "Well, yeah, I am from north of here." The girl nodded and said "I thought so. You from Dallas?" No. Just a little further north. Anyhow, it sounded like a good name - and no one else had used it. Lucky me. I did not rush that organization by the way. I joined a social sorority - my sorority sisters had a better understanding of geography.