Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

sam and my dad.

I've decided that since I own this domain, I can obviously use it as a platform for whatever I feel like. I think the whole $10 a year I pay for this blog earns me that right. And today, I feel like sharing "I love my Dad." And that is all.
Ok, not quite all.
Sam and I spent last Saturday at my parents' place. It was a roaring good time. We put Sam in the same infant seat that I fell off the table in 30 years ago - super safe and fat boy didn't fit - and had fun trying to dodge food that Fe was attempting to give the not yet 3 month old. She does this to get a rise out of me. She's very good at what she does.
Sam looked dapper on Saturday in blue plaid shorts and a turquoise colored shirt. Don't worry, pic is coming. Hold your horses and scroll bars. PK was not yet dressed for the day when I showed up - he was sunning himself on the deck. His life. My dream. He saw Sam's outfit and announced he had the same one and would shower and put it on.
Who doesn't want to be twinsies with a 12 week old?
So he and Sam are outside enjoying the trees (Sam is quite the budding arborist) and PK yells for me to get a camera - "ANY CAMERA" - and come outside. This "any camera" request tells me that whatever he is doing, a cell phone camera might actually be better than me fumbling around with settings on my Nikon monstrosity. (Side note: my Nikon monstrosity is actually a Nikon monstrosity that my Dad bought himself two years ago. So, his Nikon monstrosity. I borrowed it like a month after he bought it and have failed to return it. Whoops. I'll get right on that.)
This is what I find:
Apologies, first off, if you already saw this picture on my Instagram. I care in as much as I do not. Somethings get to be double social media covered. Like when your Dad and your baby are in matching outfits and chillaxin' (this is definitely the definition of chillaxin') on a summer evening.
I like that they are in matching outfits.
I like that they are both slumped a little to their right.
I like that Sam cannot sit up yet or totally hold his head up so this chair is probably not the best choice for him at this point in his baby life.
So I say to PK, "You break him, you buy him."
And he says "I kind of already did that."
Obviously, he didn't break him so try and connect the IVF dots here.
We gave Sam my Dad's middle name (Kerry) which is actually the name he goes by because the "P" in PK apparently wasn't cutting it. Samuel Kerry. So this picture is technically S.Kerry and P.Kerry. We settled on "Kerry" kind of like how a stadium sells naming rights. Qwest put up the most money, so Qwest Field. Safeco Insurance...Safeco Field. Of course we didn't sell the rights to name Sam, and I had always wanted to use my Dad's name for a kid as a tribute piece because he is so special to me, but this situation that we were in made it all the more funny and perfect for Sam to have Dad's middle name. Also, if you can't laugh about the way your child came into the world, what do you have?
 These two are quite a pair.

'Sup, Ladies.

a little lucy and sam.

Don't think that I've forgotten about my favorite niece just because I now have my favorite baby.

I've actually gotten a fair number of questions about Miss Lu lately and what she's been up to. Lucy is 4 1/2 now, enjoys One Direction ("I love Harry so much, Sister"), cutting her own hair, and doing gymnastics for the "cute swimsuit you get to wear". She is obviously rocking life.

Lucy and my sister moved out of state so that's why Babe hasn't been on here much lately. I miss her terribly but love how much she already loves her cousin. We have some gems of the two of them together during visits. Thought I'd share a few case your cuteness or "aaaaahhhh" meter was low this Sunday morning. I'm such a giver.

Lucy came to visit every day I was in the hospital after having Sam. She wore "Big Sister" scrubs to his birth. That didn't get confusing at all. At school, she told people she was having a baby brother and someone said no, you are having a cousin. She said "No, my Sister is having my baby brother." Not confusing at all.

But actually, let's be clear here. She did not come to see me in the hospital. She came to see her "Little Fart" (again, she rocks at life and nicknaming).

Then she visited us our first day at home and took a picture of him to be the background on HER cell phone. She has one. Basically, it's a cheap game system but she does send a lot of "ahdgflnkasld" texts to us.

She is FABULOUS. The hair (pre-self cut). The sunglasses. The cell.

Then she spent a day "babysitting" Sam where she did a lot of creepy kid things like knew that turning down the volume on the radio would make him stop crying or that he was about to wake up and be hungry 5 second before opening his eyes. You know, creepy little kid "look at the angels" kind of things.

So during said babysitting day, Lucy says to Sam, "Wez just had lunch and now wez gonna watch some cartoonies and then wez gonna fall asleep because it's nap time."

By all accounts, Sam nodded and did just that.

And now you have died because those are the cutest pictures you have ever seen. As my sister would say, all the little lambies go nigh-nigh. Look at those two lambies.

So there you go. A little Lu for your morning.
She will be up for a whole week in August so be prepared for a repeat post of adorable cousin/faux sibling pics.

day twelve: family dinners are my favorite.

It's Sunday so it's family dinner day.
We don't do family dinner every Sunday, but if we do a family dinner we do it on a Sunday. I tried to make that sentence as complicated as possible and I think I did a great job. Win.

Things were going great and pretty normal.
Shelley brought her new long board skate board so there was some playing on that. I needed help with somethings from my Dad, and Lu pushed her new Build-A-Bear around in a stroller. All in all, pretty good. Pretty fun. We'd had a few laughs. Someone (not Lucy) had already wet their pants from the hilarity of the long board riding so yeah, good family dinner. Solid.

Dessert was where things started to go down hill and I'll be honest, I'm not entirely sure how this happened but I do know that there is still milk in my hair and dried ice cream on my cheek.

The play by play:

Tonight at dinner.
Fe was getting things set in the kitchen for dessert - we were in their dining room. Lucy came in with the brownies  (she's big into helping these days), I took them and asked her to go back and grab plates and a spatula.

Fe hollered back "No plates! I don't want to do more dishes. I don't care what gets on the table cloth."

Oh, Fe. You angel. What on earth were you thinking when you said that? WHY would you ever say something like that? She basically opened a rabbit hole with her words and by the end of the night, well, I had to have my rings cleaned and Shelley needed two baby wipes to get her face clean.

The four of us (PK, Chuck, Shelley and Me) started in pretty good on Fe about the plates. Harassing Fe is one of our favorite past times, so this was a no brainer. We had to lay into her. Why couldn't we have plates? Why didn't she love us enough for us to have plates? Why was she cheapening our meal?

Fine whatever.
We set the brownies on the table cloth and started eating.

But then we had a kind of "give a mouse a cookie moment" and said we all wanted ice cream.

Well, then Fe came out with ice cream AND BOWLS and we all were a little perplexed at the blatant hypocrisy. What was her prejudice against plates and why were we suddenly being afforded a dishware? Could it be that she did actually care what got on the table cloth and what revoking her previous statement?

PK decided he'd had enough of her flip flopping.
He put the ice cream on the table and all but forbid spoons. The Father had spoken: we ate the ice cream like Randy from A Christmas Story.

Then, Shelley said she wanted milk.
Obviously, PK was not allowing cups after the stance he took with the brownies and the ice cream. And obviously, none of this was going too far at all. Shelley and I cupped our hands and Dad poured in the milk. Eventually we just sucked it right off the table.

By the end of this, the table was destroyed - I mean, really decimated - and Lucy was mooning us. I'm not sure how that last part fits in, but my the time you've eaten a scoop of chocolate ice cream off a dining room table - things get foggy.

I decided to put all the pictures at the end so you could really watch this escalate. Of course I didn't bring my camera so this is all iPhone but at least we have them.  Good luck Fe: you said you didn't care what go on that table cloth. Fingers crossed it comes clean.

Day Twelve: I love my family because this actually felt completely normal.

Brownie sans plates. If she'd just given us plates...

My dessert: brownies and ice cream.

Having some milk. The milk in a glass already on the table was from dinner and therefore considered null and void for dessert.

Straws don't count has dishware or utensils so I think this is fine.

Milk and ice cream.

Dipping my brownies in my milk.

Yep, that is my Twilight Valentine's Day card from Fe and PK.

The aftermath.

day eleven: i think she's my cousin-in-law

How dedicated am I to this self-imposed, "I must be masochistic" blog challenge? I'm upstairs at Chuck's aunt and uncle's house blogging. I never miss a deadline (that's a lie). Nothing says family time like tethering yourself to a computer and saying "I'd love to chat and catch up, but I have blogging to do. Sawreeeeaaa."

Anyways, I think I can make up for missing family time by making this a family post right? Can I correct my horrible misuse of time and complete disregard for social etiquette IF I make this post sentimental? Well, wez about to find out.

It's Cousin Ski Weekend. That's why we are here. This is year four of our now annual ski weekend where everyone skis and I sit inside with the lodge cat waiting for them (that's 100% true - I had a very good, probably rabies ridden best friend last year who kept me company and loved clam chowder.).

But, let's complain about the unseasonably warm weather we are having because guess what ruined Cousin Ski Weekend? Mr. Sun and Mrs. Fifty Degrees Fahrenheit. Win if we wanted to go on a picnic. Total buzz kill if we want to go skiing (again, I use the term "we" as if I'm speaking on behalf of them because I literally couldn't care less).

Obviously, I didn't come here to ski. I came to see my favorite cousins and not skiing actually works in my advantage because not skiing means I see them more (until I left to go blog and then that really negated um, ev-er-y-thing.).

Chuck ended up spending some quality time with his Uncle.
I got to spend some much needed one-on-one time with Janelle.
(The other cousin, Mark, is in high school so he dropped up like we were hot to go be a super cool high schooler - I loves him. He's home now, but I have zing him at least once because those are the rules he and I live by.).

Janelle and I walked to Fairhaven to shop.
All we bought was more candy. My post two days ago started Janelle thinking about when the last time she had a giant bag o' candy was and apparently it was forever ago so that needed to be fixed ASAP.

It was a nice walk. We had so much to talk about. She'll be 20 this summer and that pretty much makes me want to die.

When we came home we went nostalgic and found this.
It's the reason I decided to post real quick about her.

This is us at my wedding. She's 12, has braces, and is definitely wearing her first pair of heals. They are about two inches high and she says all she remembers is them killing her feet. I think this is the last time that I was ever taller than her.

This picture KILLS me.

Day Eleven: I love Janelle and I love that I got her as this ridiculous bonus when I married Chuck.

day six: shelley and chuck

Today's love: Shelley and Chuck.

Ok so yeah, this is obvious because I kind of like my sister (we have a few things like Fe in common) and I have had this thing for Chuck for the last ten years (even though he was a rebound relationship and I am super excited for "the next guy").

But I can't go that obvious as to write a post about how much I love my sister and adore my husband. That's a little too easy. What I love, love, love is the relationship between Shelley and Chuck (not in the Sister Wives way).

Family vacation to Hawaii - 2006

Maybe it's because they've been stuck together for so long in my life story. Maybe it's because Shelley was a whole 15 when they met (and sporting a dark brown hair color, learner's permit, and a cheer uniform). Whatever it is, I love it. I love their relationship.

Even way back in 2001 when Chuck and I were totally just "going out",  Shelley and Chuck always got each other. They always understood each other and enjoyed each other's company. Things in the beginning of them were pleasant, normal, reasonable for a sister and her sister's boyfriend. It was all I could have hoped for: my guy and my gal got along enough to be in the same room together.

Then one summer, I stayed at college for summer school and Chuck came to Seattle for an internship. He lived with my parents (and thusly an 18 year old Shelley) for about two months and that was it for Shelley. Chuck became Charlie Baby and suddenly those two were buds.

I'm pretty sure that Shelley was acting like Chuck in this picture and being tall, and Chuck was acting like her lady friend. Wowmom is what you are looking for. 

I love that they love each other pretty unconditionally.
I love that I have seen each of them drop everything to come help the other.
I love that one time they used $50 from my parents to buy a giant inflatable waving Santa Claus instead of Fe's Christmas tree (which is what they were sent to get).

But really, nothing explains "Shelley and Chuck" better than the Christmas gifts she gives him. She's kind of like Lenny from Mice and Men when it comes to giving Chuck gifts: she almost "over loves" him and what she buys is always amazing. (I think this post is kind of a two-for-one. I love Shelley and Chuck, and I love the things she buys him. It's a double day Monday.)

One year: $25 dollars to McDonald's.
Then it was the remote control Monster Truck.
The marshmallow gun was a huge hit.

This year. WowMom. Shelley hit it out of the ball park.

She got him a Duck Hunter.
Not like Mario Bros. But actually more awesome.

It's a "gun" and a flying "duck". The duck flies around the room until it is shot three times. It's an infrared sensor that does tells the duck when it's died. It's amazing. And it's such a Shelley to Chuck gift.

Please to watch for visual enjoyment:


As you can see, you literally hunt the duck. You do not however, need to be dressed like a hunter - that was just a special gift from Chuck to you.

Ok so I know Shelley wasn't in the demo pictures but the point is: They have a pretty special brother/sister-in-law relationship. As Chuck and I have grown up together, so have they and somehow have come out with this weird, twisted, odd little relationship that is totally normal for them.

And I love that.

we took elf fe to dinner. obviously.

Ok so at that same pizza place, you know the one I wrote about with the baby in the kitchen, well, maybe we also we're exactly being "restaurant appropriate" either.

I mean, they had a baby in the kitchen.
We had an Elf Fe at the table.

I'm starting to bring Elf Fe (also known as ElFe - naming rights belong to Fe's BFF Christine) to family activities because why wouldn't I bring a plush version of my mother with us? I mean, if you had a stuffed your mother, wouldn't you carry her around?

So, I brought her on the outing we went to the ended with us at said Baby Kitchen Pizza Place.
And I brought her inside for dinner. Obviously, she had to eat.

Mom and her had a little chat.
Not sure what you talk about with your plush self but it seemed for existentionism-ish to me (that's a word. Existentionismish. I took three philosophy classes in college and this is the best I could do. I went to a public university. Sue me.).

She ate a salad which I said wasn't necessary since she looks great and why is she watching her figure, but she insisted. Also, Dad insisted on creating a nice Italian back drop for her and lemme tell you, getting that fork to stay up. Go Shelley. That was not an easy one to balance. See, this was a family game. We are very inclusive in our inappropriate behavior.

Then Dad also took some time to discuss somethings with Elf Fe that he had on his mind.  He and Real Fe have been married for 36 years, so I'm assuming he and Plush Fe had a lot to discuss.

She washed down her salad with a Dr. Pepper.
I should know, because it was mine and she's always taking my things. That's a lie.

And then Shelley tried to eat her. Which I'm not sure how that fits in, but it happened so yeah. I don't really know how any of this made a post, but I know that I sure love Elf Fe and kind of love having her pop back onto the blog.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again.
Once you find a plush version of your Mom as an Elf, your life is never really the same.

it's kind of like finding a potato chip with the pope's face on it.

Story set up: I'm at Marshall's getting my shop on. I'm in line to check out (I totally scored, BTdub), I turn my head, and what to my wonderings eyes should appear....

But a Harvest elf (yep, HARVEST elf...not holiday, not Christmas, not Santa's) and that Harvest Elf looks exactly like my Mother.

You look at that face and you tell me that you do not see Fe.

Closer look? FE.

Still no?

Here. Ok, that's not actually a picture of the harvest elf; that photo may have been altered in photoshop. But still. Can you deny that that elf does not look like The Fe?

Yes I bought it. And I find it to be a Harvest Miracle (even though it's now officially Christmas time).

Harvest Fe Elf will be in a lot of our Holiday activities. She has to be. So now you have that to look forward to.

someone was topless at our thanksgiving.

I honestly believe that if I don't start blogging again, I'm going to lose friends. And not peripheral friends or facebook friend friends, but like actual bridesmaids-in-weddings, godmother to children type friends. And I really can't afford to lose them.

I hosted Thanksgiving yesterday.
Shelley was supposed to just like last year, but plans sort of changed and now Shelley is hosting Festivus on Saturday (apparently she's got a lot of problems with us...) so I did Thanksgiving. In my family, that train of thought and change of plans is super normal. Super.

I thought I did a great job with my table scape.

Mostly because that's our new dining room table and if I could marry it, I would. It already has brought me so much more happiness than Chuck ever has and I've only had it 10 days. I've had Chuck for 10 years. Yikes.

I really thought my table scape set the mood for a lovely Thanksgiving.

And then Lucy showed up.
So that ended the "lovely" thinking about 5 seconds into the evening.

Last year, it was a tuxedo. This year, a Native American. The move to this place is obvious in the Shelley Parenting Handbook.

So that costume was great and all and it lasted about 10 minutes.

Then she took off everything (yelled "OH YEAH!!!") and started jumping from footstools to couches. Side note: how much do you want to be a kid again and jump from hotel bed to hotel bed? I mean, isn't that basically what she's doing? Sometimes, I am super jealous of her life.

Then she wanted to drive the house (she's really into driving our house lately) and we all had to buckle up. Or she'd leave us behind.

Evidently, the only part of the house that moves when she's driving is the staircase so we were instructed to pile on. And of course we did that because she was naked, driving a house, and (though not pictured) wearing a pilgrim hat.

Also, this is a picture of Shelley and Chuck (duh). Shelley likes to take "couples pictures" with Chuck, usually after Chuck and I take a picture. Again, this might sound weird, but what's weirder is when we call ourselves Chuck's sister wives. Which is true. I'm his wife and that's my sister. So, Sister Wives. Is that not how that works? Ok.

Basically from there Thanksgiving kind of took a normal route.

Chuck and I took a picture together.

Mom wore a head dress.

Lucy watched TV like this.

Then took a book in with her to the bathroom (which she's also calling her "office" when she has "business" to attend to).

She ate my place cards while waiting for us to dish ourselves up (Jack was supervising and doing a terrible job.).

Shelley and I did this. (I think it should be reminded every time there is a picture of the two of us that, yes, we do have the same parents.)

Chuck and Lucy snuggled.

Lucy and I wore matching PJs. (yep, that just happened). This was taken at about 8 o'clock. She hadn't worn a stitch of clothing since 4:30. Also note my wicked awesome Thanksgiving chalkboard turkey.

And that's about it.
Thanksgiving was, per usual, fabulous. My friend Elizabeth said, and she's right, there aren't many ages when you're allowed to go topless at Thanksgiving, so we've got that to be thankful for... that Lucy is still baby enough to get away with these kind of shenanigans.

Happy Thanksgiving!
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