Why, I just did this yesterday!

When was the last time you got into bed and thought to yourself, "You know, what feels like a right decision to me is to strip off all my clothes and draw all over myself with a red pen. Yep, that seems good. Better get cracking on that."

For Aubrey, she was struck by that wave of genius today during "nap" time. Also note, in an effort to keep this blog's PG rating I made her put on undies but I found her naked as the day she was born. I couldn't stop laughing.

For your viewing pleasure

I bring you a little tacky, dusty rose background, circa 1998, to make you feel love during Valentine's Day.

A man and his shoes are soon parted

At least Dane wishes they were. Let me summarize.

Dane was born with club feet.

Feet doing much better.

Must wear orthodics in shoes to keep feet doing well.

Dane hates his orthodics.

Dane hates his shoes.

Two things:

1. We did get him different shoes that he is much happier with.

2. As a mother, is it bad that I took pictures of the above situation and thought it was hilarious?

Dance like no one is watching

Greg and I have been participating in a family Biggest Loser/Get Fit/Stop Your Whining and Do Something About It contest. Three weeks in we are feeling good, eating better, and working out a lot. Which brings me to my point. You know. Because I try to make one.

I was getting ready for bed the other night and Greg said, with true amazement, "Your abs look great!" This is flattering for many reason. One, my husband thinks I look good. Enough said. Second, I have had three kids over the course of the last 4 1/2 years and my stomach has taken a beating. Weight lost? Yes. Abdominal muscles taunt with no flabby skin over the top and not a trace of a stretch mark or a really weird looking belly button? Uh, no. Thirdly, I have been beating my abs to a bloody pulp the last few weeks and DESERVED a compliment on them.

But it continued. "What have you been doing for them?" he asked.

"Well, I've been using the yoga ball at the gym, crunches, and my ballet video."

It's true. I have a workout video, two part series, called "The New York City Ballet" and I love it. In a former, juvenile life, I took six years of ballet lessons. The video brings me back, makes me think that I have grace and a swan like neck, and kicks the tar out of my abs, thighs, and rear. (Which, by the way, may or may not be a good thing. I think the flab is going down but there seems to be even more junk in my trunk. I do not think I need a ghetto booty. But I digress.)

"Really? Your ballet video, huh?"

"Yeah, it's really good. You should do it with me sometime."

Do you know where I'm going with this?

The man, my man, Greg Jones, Mr. Basketball, has done my ballet video with me not once, but twice now. Start to finish. Every plie, every front attitude, every stretch, and every miserable ab exercise on there. By the end he is sweating, begging for water, and acknowledging my studliness.

He says he is sore and more sore the day after we do the videos. For him, a lot of it is about the intense stretching and flexibility components of it. I think looking at the physiques on the male dancers doesn't hurt either. These guys look like they've been carved from marble and then lacquered into a luxurious shine. I'm not sure if a few grande plies in our family room will get you there but the dream is alive and well. And for now I'm loving having an exercise partner, some validation that my work out is hard too, and pride in knowing that MY MAN is man enough to dance.

Pictures of Dane, take two

I recommend one year old boys to anyone. They are awesome.

(p.s. I rotated my pictures before posting them. Blogger took it upon itself to put them on their side. Not awesome.)

Dane also had his one year appointment. He was 21 lbs. 1 oz. (15th percentile) and 32.5 inches long (90th percentile). He also had his appointment at Shriners this morning and his foot was scored 0. That's as good as it gets folks! They made him a new splint and some orthodics for his shoes but we are in the clear now. A year ago today I was hauling all three babies to Shriners EVERY DAY for training on how to tape and splint his foot and when they told me we had to do it until he walkd I nearly cried. Yet here we are, on the other side of that year and what do you know, it didn't kill us after all. Besides, our little Dane is so worth it.

7 a.m.

So far today I have been puked and pooped on. What have you done?

This is what one looks like

It happened. Our baby baby turned one. He walks everywhere. He has a temper. He gives the best snuggles. We no longer have to tape his foot. He seems so big and still so small. He is our ever precious, ever loving, Danish Doodle. Happy 1st Birthday baby boy!



...twenty minutes later. Blogger is having an aneurysm and is refusing to let me post any more pictures. I am in turn also having an aneurysm. Trust me, it's not pretty.

Consider this picture your teaser. Dane, on his real birthday, chowing down on his first chocolate chip cookie. He loved it, good man. Any child of mine will find peace and comfort in the warm embrace of chocolate.

Lianna, you don't get an exit seat

To loosely quote my sister Lianna from a few months ago (she'd been doing a lot of flying):

"I highly doubt that if my plane drops out of the sky that any of my broken body pieces will be able to find my seat to serve as a flotation device. Like, hey, we just dropped three thousand miles into the Pacific and my remains are spread over three watery miles but look, there's my seat that doubles as a flotation device!"

I am motivated to actually listen to the flight attendants next time. Lianna, maybe you should too. :-)

Three stooges

Here is a photographic essay as to what my
kiddos have been up to this last week. In no particular order you can see Aubrey learning the ropes of women's hair care and diffusers, Nathan reading "People" magazine while pooping, and Dane, delighting in a mess of honey and flour.

Never dull I tell you, never dull.

Mug shot

I cut off all my hair. I think I like it.