Sisters and babies!

Happy birthday to my cute nephew, Jonah, who is one today, which I totally cannot believe. He's my younger sister's son, their first baby, and he has Amy's red hair. He's a handsome little man, and I can't wait to see him again!

Jonah

And something I can't believe even more is that today Corgan is eleven months old! I feel like I was in the hospital with him last week! He is just about ready to pull up to stand, but he's so stubborn and he gets so frustrated that he gives up. It's pretty cute! All of my boys kind of waited until the very last minute for every milestone, so I know he'll get there. I CAN'T BELIEVE he'll be one year old next month! Time is stealing my boys away from me!

Corgan

On that note, because I was behind on my blog earlier this month, I didn't document the birth of another nephew, making me an aunt for the 24th time. Camden McKay Myers was born to Ashley and Jon, their fifth child, on Septemeber 10, and we are so excited he's here! Belated congratulations to Ashley and family! I can't wait to get to know him!

Camden

This is for Suzanne...

... since she's not on Facebook, and she so loved my earlier story about the gerbil. Today, you know, the same exact day as the one I cleaned up gerbil carcass, I heard a frantic squeaking coming from the mouse cage. Ruby was on top of it, and when I yelled, she ran off. I noticed the mouse was limping. Upon further inspection, her front leg was gone. G-O-N-E. Ruby somehow got it through the cage bars, and I'm assuming she ate it. At first the mouse was trembling so hard I could actually see it from far away, but now she's just hobbling around like nothing is wrong, using one paw to eat, and running on her wheel. She's a resilient little fuzzball.

The Perilous Life of a Rodent

Um, I think I jinxed the gerbil. Remember last week? I mentioned I wished it would escape the cage? Well, I'm really all talk, I don't want any animal to get hurt. But I do admit I really disliked this particular gerbil. I liked her in the beginning - she's technically Fynn's, a birthday present from Sarah. But she bites HARD. I kid you not, I still have a lump in my finger from where she bit me three months ago. Really, she's a harmless little rodent, but it has become kind of a joke that I have a vendetta against her. I even tried to see once if she'd leave her cage and start exploring the backyard. But she was terrified, and when I actually saw her trembling, I felt major remorse and repented. I've protected her from Ruby the cat vigorously.

UNTIL...

Last night I noticed her cage topper was very slightly askew. Not enough for a cat to get in there, but certainly enough for a gerbil to escape. And sure enough, she wasn't in there. I wanted to find her before the cat did, so I did a thorough search and found nothing. This morning, I sat down at the computer, glanced around as I waited for it to load, and spotted a stub tail on the floor. Attached to a rear and two hind legs. And - that's all. Oh, besides the organs spilling out. Yeah, I hope you aren't eating lunch right now. So I had to clean that up, and I feel bad for the little gal. Thank goodness the boys weren't up, yet. I haven't disassembled or cleaned out her cage, yet, and today I found Oliver inspecting the crime scene.

Happy 70th Birthday to Dad!

Happy birthday, Dad! I'm sorry Lucy isn't here to share it with you!

Flowers Gone Wild

My sisters and I used to walk to my grandmother's house and visit with her. We'd often go sit on her back porch when the weather was nice and just talk. I would talk to her a lot about all of her flowers - she had many. Wild and cultivated roses, irises in every color of the rainbow, tiger lilies, honeysuckle, wisteria, sweet peas, and many more that I've forgotten over time. She instilled in me a love of flowers and gardening that was nourished by the books I read. Anne of Green Gables, The Secret Garden, Little House on the Prairie, etc. Although I'm not necessarily a perfectly green thumb, I think I've developed a lovely light yellow, spring green thumb. At least I had, up until I got pregnant with Fynn.

Pregnancy kicks us all in the butt in different ways, and one of the things to suffer with Fynn and Corgan was my gardening. I just gave up. Weeding was too hard, I was hormonal and one failure of one plant would upset me and I just lost the desire. But I still love flowers so much. I love the wild look, and while right now the weeds have taken over a bit too wildly, there have been some other lovely results of my lazy sowing the last couple of years. It's still not quite what I would like it to be, but I'll take what I can get in these busy days.

This is the low brick wall by our porch, covered in black-eyed Susan vine, and purple hyacinth vine. They are all mingled and twirled together, and I love it.

Close-up of black-eyed Susan vine. I've loved them from the moment I saw them in a magazine, and tried for a couple of years to grow them without success. But last year, it worked, and this year, they came back with a lovely vengeance.

Both of them together. Mary Ann gave me a handful of the purple hyacinth vine a few years ago, and they came back in spectacular bunches all over the place. They are a little crazy, but beautiful - and they smell divine.

This popped up in the middle of my lantana. It looks a bit familiar, but I can't place it. Does anyone know? The find of this one inspired this post this morning, and I'm thinking it might inspire a little more of the fey spirit of gardening.

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...

... start writing again. Really. I think I can. I WILL do it. It may take me a while to get back into the writing groove, but I will try. Since I don't have anything spectacular to report right now, I think I'll just give some wee updates on different topics and post a few pictures. Then we'll see what I can come up with tomorrow. Or the next day. Or, you know, sometime.

Ewan is incredible. He is loving kindergarten, and announced yesterday he has a girlfriend named Sarah. For the past two days, all he has talked about are the superhero team he has formed with Sarah, Natalie, each of us, and the cats. For Halloween, he wants to be AntMan, a hero he made up after an ant bit him (mimicking what he'd seen on Spiderman when Peter Parker is bitten by the spider.) Ewan is incredibly smart, and excessively sensitive. I love him madly and am so glad to be his mommy. I'm afraid he's more like me than I would like to admit, and that equates to being a major challenge. He requires more patience and care than the other two put together, but I know through prayer and faith, it'll all be worth it.
Fynn is hilarious and fun and stubborn and frustrating, and acts like a turd much of the time. He's in his testing phase, which means he ignores nine out of ten words that come out of my mouth just so he can see how I'll react. Unfortunately, I haven't been strict enough on him - not like I was on Ewan. Being pregnant and having Corgan when Fynn was so young really threw a wrench in my parenting philosophies and one year later, we are still recovering. But I'm trying to get the reins back, and hope to be raising a polite, kind, obedient little boy soon. I mean, within reason. He is a little boy, after all. And a very cute one at that. His face is so angelic, it belies the growling attitude he has most of the time. But he's still my little cherub who loves to play ball and cars, be a superhero, and copies everything his big brother does. Everything.

Corgan is quite a big boy. His height and weight are in the 95th percentile. He actually only began to army crawl about one month ago; the doctor said when they are tall and big like that it is harder for them to get their heft around. Today for the first time, he can go from crawling to sitting up all on his own. And he's ready to start pulling up to stand. It's possible he'll be a slightly late walker, but I'm not concerned. He loves the kitties and meows back at them. He actually had a two minute long conversation with momma kitty Ruby today. It was very cute. He says "dada" and is working on "mama" which usually comes out "nana." He's still more blond than his brothers, and I kiss his feet and squeeze his thighs regularly. I can't believe he'll be one year old in a month. I mean, didn't I just have him last month?

The animal kingdom is alive and thriving in my home. Well, maybe not thriving. Two months ago, a hamster escaped its cage and was found the next day - rather, a piece of her was found the next day. I guess Ruby was hungry. In addition, Ruby has severed the tails of two, count them, TWO different gerbils, as well as murdering another. The survivors, short stub tails notwithstanding, are doing well. One of them has become my friend, squeaking at me and letting me pet her. The other gerbil... Well, I just can't help wishing SHE had escaped her cage instead of the hamster. I actually have a pretty funny story about that, but I'll save it. I went a little crazy after the deaths of the gerbil and hamster, and replaced them rapidly. So the current (and final) tally is two gerbils, two mice, and two hamsters. I can't help it; I like the furry little buggers.

We have kept two of the kittens from Ruby's litter, two little boys we named Oliver and Mudflap (Ewan named him after a Transformer.) They are sweet little guys, and I love them so!


Lucy, a cat I bought with babysitting money when I was 16 years old, had to be put to sleep last week. She had a tumor behind her tongue that couldn't be removed without removing her tongue. So she was basically going to starve to death either way. I went to the veterinarian with my dad, who has been her constant companion since I left and got married, and I was with her until the end, which wasn't easy. I tell you, that cat has absorbed more of my tears in years past as she gave me love and comfort - during an awful heartbreak, through getting over it, moving away from home, coming back with my tail between my legs, through meeting Bryce and watching him leave on a mission, through the two years waiting for him to come home...
I feel badly for my parents, who had gotten quite attached to her, more attached than I've ever seen them to any other animal. But I'm sure she's happy, and I feel confident she's somewhere with my little Flex, playing and being friends.

Me, I'm still fat and trying to motivate myself to work out and lose the stinkin' weight. I had a setback in the middle of July when I injured my knee and had to have surgery. It's still not back at 100%, but I'm doing physical therapy, and hope to be back to normal very soon. Then I won't have any more excuses. Ewan said to me the other day, "Mommy, you need to lose weight. Every day you look like you have a baby in your belly. I call you 'needing to lose weight' mommy." It didn't hurt my feelings, it made me laugh. But when my five year old can tell I'm unhealthy, it's very convincing. For too long I've thought, "Hey, I'm young, I have time, I don't have to worry about disease or diabetes, yet." I realized finally that I am working my way through my 30s, and I don't have time anymore.

Bryce and I had our garage converted into a bedroom for us. Our home is very small - 850 sq. ft. give or take, only two bedrooms, and we were sharing a room with Corgan. There were days Bryce would come home and I'd be laying on my bed having a claustrophobic fit. There was just room for nothing, and often when I needed a moment to myself, Corgan would be napping and I couldn't go in there. I'm grateful for our house, and we have a nice, huge backyard, but we really needed our own space. So now we do, and it's lovely. Thanks to *you know who you are* for this wonderful room, and thanks to Shannon for helping me put it together.

This is already too long - the perils of not keeping up. I hope you stuck through to this point. Hopefully I will be up and running more often, humor intact. And now I need to catch up on all of your blogs! Now - good night!

New kitties!

Okay, so sorry because I SWORE I was going to be updating more often, even trying for every day. But first we all had a horrendous sinus infection, and then once we got well from that, both Bryce and I caught this very odd virus that made our whole bodies feel like we'd been in a cage match, with a low fever... bla blah. So I haven't been in the groove. I even neglected Primp & Tell pretty badly. Anyway, yesterday Ruby had another litter. I normally would never have allowed her to have two litters, especially back to back, but after what happened to Flex, I wanted baby kitties. And it's not as if I had a whole lot I could do - it's clear now she was pregnant before Flex was even killed. And I am so ecstatic. All day yesterday I was expecting the "big event" because Ruby was acting so sluggish, and after she had them, I was so giddy and happy it was like a kid on a sugar high. I do love cats. So much I'm actually a little teary right now. Anyway.... So I will probably be keeping that little calico beauty there, I love them. And I'll almost definitely keep another one, too, just not sure which one. I want to wait and see their little personalities and see how affectionate they are. Also, there is now photographic proof that there are FOUR of them, so if something happens like last time, I won't second-guess my sanity. Pardon the poor quality - I had to snap this quick before Ruby came back from eating and took off my hand for messing with them. I really don't want her to move them this time.

Zombie Shoutout

My little sister, Amy, is very crafty and talented at all sorts of crafty craftiness. She's been embroidering lately, and some of her stuff was just featured on an embroidery blog. Yay, Amy! I'm so proud of you!

What's the big deal?

I've had more than one person tell me I'm brave/crazy for posting my weight online and being so frank about what I've gained and what I'm going to do about it. I don't really understand why people are so embarrassed about their weight. I mean, anyone who knows me and sees me can tell I'm overweight - by a lot. It's not like I look skinny, and then to find out I weigh 190ish pounds is such a shocker for someone. "I had no idea you were fat!" they might say. No, people aren't stupid, if you are fat, they know it, they know you know it, and the number is not something to be ashamed of.

The single mostest cutest thing I have EVER seen

Mary Ann, Mariah - my sister-in-law, and I were talking at dinner tonight about baby squirrels. Mary Ann said you never see them out and about - ever. I realized this is true, but we do have a book here that shows a nest of teeny-tiny hairless baby squirrels. So I said I had seen one, but only in pictures. I just received an e-mail from Mary Ann with a picture of a baby squirrel, one a bit older than the pictures I'd seen. I don't know if I've ever had something make my heart thump and nearly stop beating out of cuteness before, but this about did it.

Random Empowering Thought of the Day

The boys are asleep, Bryce is out working, and I've been cleaning like the Queen was coming to visit tomorrow. But you know what? I'm just NOT going to clean my baseboards. I mean, why? I don't want to. It's not like we're going to be licking them. If a major stain develops, sure, I'll wipe it up. Kid vomit splashes on the baseboards - I am so there with some bleach and an old rag. But other than that, nah. So I'll sweep, I'll mop, I'll wash some dishes and laundry and put it all away. Hell, I may even dust from time to time. But I'm just not going to worry about my baseboards. Not even when I have a party. And I'm not going to feel guilty about it anymore. I'm okay with that.

This may not be much to you...

... but when I see little guys like this, I know there is a God.

Summer Survival

Ewan has a need to entertained constantly. Despite his reading abilities, he is not a child who will go sit quietly and read for an extended period of time. He has never enjoyed playing alone much, and besides wrestling Fynn in great matches that rival WWE Smackdown, he can't find anything to do. I tolerate the wrestling as long as I can, until Corgan is sleeping or my ears start to bleed, but he just won't/can't stop. He just moves constantly at lightning speed. From one end of the house to the other, over and over again. He truly can not even sit still for a short conversation or even to one sentence. And he has become quite belligerent - talking back, telling me no, questioning literally every tiny thing I say. I've taken the kids swimming, let them play out back in the water and mud, play in the sprinklers, taken them to the play area at the mall, and turned on more PBS Kids than should be legally allowed. But he's bored stiff. He really is just too smart for his own good, and I can't keep up with him! Mary Ann has offered to take him some or to watch the other boys while I take him places, but he can't be going somewhere constantly. He won't read, won't play blocks, loses interest in his Transformers very quickly now... I'm at a loss. He blossomed so much while in PreK, and I just can't wait for him to start kindergarten. He really needs that structure, constant learning, and something new every day. It's going to be a long summer. (That's not to say I won't bawl my eyes out when he starts, but, hey - methinks I'll get over it quickly.)

Corgan has two teeth now, yay! And they are the cutest teeth I've ever seen. Fynn is just busy being Fynn, talking in longer sentences every day. Not much else to report besides some cat in the neighborhood is a mourning dove assassin and I am finding their carcasses in the yard several times a week. It's been real swell.

I will go ahead and be quite frank here on my blog - I think it helps me. I've been in major denial about my weight until last week when I stepped on the scale on a whim. The wind was knocked out of me when I saw that I now weigh 194 pounds. I about fell over. With all three pregnancies, I managed to keep my weight right under 200 up until delivery day, so to see myself that close and NOT be about to deliver a baby, it freaked me out. I've cut waaaaaaay down on my Coke habit (love referring to it that way) and my abiding love for Cinnabon Cinnamon Bread. I admit I've fallen off the wagon the last two days, but it won't stop me. I'm doing it this time, by gosh! I even bought some fun exercise DVDs geared to kids and their moms. Should be fun!

'Sup?

I was just about to head to bed, but remembered I wanted to try and post something every day, just to get back into the groove. So read at your own peril, it's really just me trying to fill some space. Things are going well over here at the Taylor household. Bryce and I are finally starting to feel like we are catching up financially due to his second job. So we're breathing a little easier, which is always a good thing. Ewan is already bored senseless since school isn't in session, and some of those interesting behaviors of his that had largely disappeared with pre-K attendance are now back with a mighty vengeance. It's going to be interesting getting through to the new year. Fynn is feisty, feisty, feisty. It's funny to look at your children and see yourself manifested in them. I thought Ewan was exactly like me, with some of his anxieties and behaviors, but I realize that Fynn is also exactly like me in a different way. Just ask my mom - apparently I came out of the womb practically hissing in feistiness. That's Fynn for you - it's me all over again. Corgan is now sitting up on his own, but he absolutely refuses to even attempt a crawl. It's frustrating because the Baby Olympics are in a month, and he's behind in his training.

We've had another pet death, our gerbil, Piper. I really don't know what happened. She was just dead. I feel bad for Sophie, her cage mate, because they were just the best of friends. You can't put another gerbil in with one that is already established, because they'll fight. But they are quite social creatures, so I'm sure she's lonely. Poor thing. You may think I'm totally crazy, but Flex's death bothered me so much that instead of getting my cat fixed as planned - I pimped her back out for another litter. She's starting to get all round on the sides. (Don't tell the animal activists, they'll picket my house.) I just want a kitten that doesn't have to have a territorial fight with Ruby over the house. We've already had two cats abandon us because we brought Ruby home. So this way, they know each other from the beginning! Sorry, I'm just a total cat freak. I may even keep two kittens. Just to make up for the trauma of losing Flex the way we did.

By the way, if you haven't already, got to Primp and Tell to enter our latest giveaway. It's a good one!

Okay, I'm already going to bed an hour later than I promised myself, so auf wiedersehen.

Indecisive Ida

I had put down on my Facebook status that I was shutting Skillywidden down and keeping it as a personal journal. But I don't really want that; I like updating everyone with pictures and stories and tidbits. The problem is that while I was pregnant and tired and hurting nonstop, I just got so burned out, and I haven't shaken that feeling quite yet, but I want to. Because of my lack of updating, the number of people who actually look at my blog has gone down to less than 10. When I very first starting writing a blog, I loved it and felt I was good at it. I want to enjoy it again, and will make more of an effort to get back to where I was before my pregnancy turned me into a shell of my former self. It's funny - my pregnancy with Ewan was mostly okay, but with Fynn and with Corgan - my butt was totally kicked. I used to be an avid gardener, but during my pregnancy with Fynn, I lost all interest and haven't really gotten it back yet. Then with Corgan it was my writing that I fell out of love with - and I haven't gotten it back, either.

Well, whatever the reason, I'm going to make an effort from now. I'm going to try to actually write something every day - not really for the sake of updating, but to get me back into the groove of writing. I do love to write, and always have. So you'll be hearing more from me.

I think.

Flex

The smell of a kitty's fur.

Our baby kitty, Flex, one that I have been quite attached to - more attached than any cat I've had since I was a kid - was found dead in our front yard today. He had gotten out and I thought he'd come back in, but he hadn't. I feel like a lost little girl and have been sobbing all day long. We had a little funeral for him and the boys and I drew pictures to put in the box with him. The most amazing thing was when his mommy kitty, Ruby, followed us out to where we buried him, climbed in the hole for a moment, then got out and stood by while we had our funeral. Ewan was upset when I first told him, but recovered fairly quickly, Fynn doesn't understand at all of course. Bryce feels guilty and sad, and I just feel like a devastated child.
My picture of Flex's heaven - a shallow pond with lots of fish for catching, a tree that grows feet for him to play with, three little boys, and Bryce's beloved kitty Smokey that disappeared a few years ago. I know they'll be best buds.

Ewan's picture for Flex. :( FYI, the spiky haired maniac is me.

Fynn's picture for Flex.

This is what Ruby has ben doing all morning. I had ice cream for breakfast since I was in mourning, and I think this is Ruby's plan as well - eat a hamster to drown her sorrows.

Oh, one more thing

Ewan had his five year check-up on Wednesday. This is what he told the doctor," I just can't decided if I want to be a scientist, a penguin helper, or a schoolteacher."

I got nothin'

Shannon commented that I should update, already, for Pete's sake! I agree, but I just - I got nothin'! Life is just ticking along at a slow little pace. Any spare time I do get, I've been spending on Primp&Tell or Facebook. Ewan is doing really well in Pre-K, Fynn talks like a big kid now, and Corgan gets across the living room by rolling over and over again. Bryce has taken a second job as a limo driver to help us pay off some debt. I have also applied for a part-time job at a daycare center - we'll see what happens there. They have room for the kids, so it's just a matter if they pay me enough to be able to work with the kids there and still have some surplus to contribute to bills and such.

But I am here, we are alive and well. Just busy. Or not busy enough. I don't know. One of those two.

Kitties!

It's been fun to have these little kitties around. They are so sweet, and so cute! One of them got an eye infection, and I kept having to take it out of Ruby's little nest for them to treat it. She got so irritated with me that she moved them behind our stove. One day I couldn't find them. Until I opened the oven drawer...

The pans have since been washed.

The gray one found a home with Kara, and the other whitish one found a home with Mary Ann. (Thanks, guys.) This one is mine, all mine. Ewan named him Flex, and he is seriously maybe the prettiest cat I have ever seen. I love his little face. (If you have any male cats in the room while you are viewing this, you might want to cover their eyes. Look closely and you'll see something inappropriate for Tomcat viewing.)

hahahahahahhahahahaha!!!!

Do you hear that demonic sound? It's me, laughing uncontrollably at the visual I have in my head at this little incident.

Right now...

... Cheez-its are ground into the rug

...Kitten-chow is scattered all over the kitchen floor, along with tiny little water pawprints

...the kitchen counters are bathed in a concoction of flour, water, enchilada sauce, and mysterious crumbs

...a novel's worth of Ewan's school papers are scattered around the house, and I can't throw them away, but have nowhere to place them

...Fynn, who skipped a nap today, is trudging around in his bedroom grabbing toys and periodically trying to escape unnoticed. Go to sleep already, kid.

...there's more dirty laundry than can be reasonably done in 24-hour period of time

...there's a stack of magazines and books about one foot tall that I never have time to read

...there's a stack of random papers and odds & ends on the side-table, again with no home to put them

...I need a shower

...a sticky substance has settled down on my desk and has started raising a little family of mini-sticky substances

... my bedroom is a disaster area of hurricane aftermath proportions of unfolded laundry and baby stuff

...I am exhausted

... I should be taking care of the things on this list, and I know I'm on the computer instead, but I just can't go in that kitchen. All I want is to settle down with cookies and vegetate.

Why can't I get this done during the day? Because Corgan never stops whining and crying, Ewan & Fynn play Spider-man to the point of injuring each other, which results in an unbearable amount of whining, and then me being followed around by mini humans saying, "Hold you, pick me up." When I do feel like I have a spare second and start to tackle something, a major spill occurs, or someone gets badly hurt, or Corgan starts SCREAMING. *Sigh* I'm tapped out. It's one of those nights where I feel like I could just go catatonic with the seemingly undoable amount of work to be done.

I'm not trying to say "woe is me," but I just love my family and want to be able to do the best for them, and just feel like I can't keep up. Argh! I know I've fussed about this before, but I just felt the need to vent as I sat here on my break from bulldozing the kitchen mess. Off to the trenches I return...

Where the Wild Things Are

Ready to get some chills down your spine? This trailer for the movie based on everyone's favorite children's book Where the Wild Things Are is amazing and magical, and I can hardly wait to see it.

Happy 6 months to C-Dawg

The Corganator rolls over both ways, shrieks like an owl just to hear himself, cries a lot over his teeth, is fascinated by the kitties, laughs and grins like the Cheshire cat, adores Ewan and is being really stubborn about sitting-up practice. Oh, and he reeeeeallllly loves his mommy. And I love him. *Sigh*

On a related note, happy 7 months to baby cousin Jonah!

the absence of me

Okay, I am so behind on reading everyone's blogs and keeping up with what is going on. I just haven't had the opportunity or inclination to sit and catch up on everything. But I will post soon, and I will be catching up with everyone soon as well. (Sarah Y., I'm totally on board with your new blog!)

Taylor Status

What is the plural of "status?" Is it "statuses?" "Stati?" Hold on, I'm going to look it up... Oh, wow. It's "status." Hm! Who knew? Anyway... I know I haven't been doing regular posting here other than the occasional picture explosion, so I felt like just posting the state of all things Taylor-oriented.

Corgan is ginormo-baby. Every day, Bryce or I say, "When did he get so big?!" He has no teeth, yet, but he drools like a leaky dam. He's rolling over from back to tummy, and he's starting to experiment with some consonants, constantly screeching out "D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D!" He's a very happy baby, a major contrast from the colicky screamer he was the first few months. Every time he looks at someone, usually women, his jaw opens in a gigantic gummy grin and he crinkles his nose. We've made real progress in that our friend John doesn't make him cry anymore.

Fynn is so stinkin' fun. I can't believe how much he is growing and talking. He loves bugs, and we frequently find him on his belly, very closely examining a tiny creature. I have to stop him from picking up ants and spiders, but I do let him carry around a June bug when he finds one. The other day, he kept one in his hand, alive, through two hours of car travel and shopping time. However, that little booger WILL NOT sleep at night. We put him to bed at 8:00, and that kid will get up over and over again - sometimes more than a dozen times. Nothings works, either. We tried Super Nanny's advice of not saying anything to him, but immediately putting him back in bed, we've tried spanking (just a little tap). Nothing. Right now, having been put to bed an hour ago after not napping today, he's still in there taunting Ewan and roaring like a tiger.

Before I get into an update on Ewan, just a little about him. He's been quite difficult the last couple of years. He's very anxious and seems to have some sensory issues. It's all quite difficult to explain, but it has been a struggle, one that I fear will go on and I won't know how to handle. On the other hand, he's very smart. We could hold full conversations with him when he was barely two, and when he was three, he started sounding out and reading words on his own. He's very curious about words, and asks what everything he hears means. We recently (finally) got him into Pre-K through our elementary school. It has made such a difference. He'll now draw pictures (would never before, only scribble) and is more willing to work at something, whereas before if it was just a slight challenge, he would run screaming from the room devastated. Today, his teacher flagged me down to tell me their language and speech person visited the room today. She said to me, "This boy will read anything you put in front of him." Apparently, they gave him word lists, and he was reading at above a 4th grade level. So this language specialist is going to come in each week and work with him and see what else he's capable of. I was just so excited, because I worry about him so much. I had a hard time not crying in happiness for him. He's not into sports at all, but seems to have a very scientific mind, and you'll always find him in the company of adults rather than children. More than once I've gotten to school to pick him early and found him on the playground, talking his teacher's ear off while the children ensued in hilarity around him. He's quite an interesting, awesome kid.

Bryce is working hard, but may need a second job soon. I'm trying to keep up with everything, and barely succeeding. The kittens are cute and growing and each one has a home waiting for it. In fact, one will be staying with us and Ewan has named him Flex.

Fynn scopes out the insect life.

The biggest worm I have ever seen, even after being accidentally cut by a shovel.

So disgusting, yet so AWESOME.

Flex is on the left. Say a prayer: Fynn is determined to slam the door on one of them.

This is what Fynn does when I've banned him from the kittens. I tried to get a shot of one of their paws coming out, but they were too quick.

Easter Pictures!!

Bryce The Great took these photos!!

No other words will suffice: SPARE ME!

Despite the fact that they are so extreme, I think PETA does a lot of good. But do you think PETA ever thinks about how much more good they could do if they weren't so damn crazy????

For Ashley and Amy

Score! (Click)

Just because I'm bored and it's cute

This is a picture of Ewan when he was one year old - his first Easter. I accidentally flipped to this last night in a photo album, and was shocked at how much I see Corgan in this little face. And I can't believe Ewan isn't this little baby anymore.

Glorified Online Picture Album

I realize this is what my blog has become, but I'm okay with that. My energies are going to other places right now. At any rate:

One of the fun things about having boys is getting spectacularly goofy shirts like this one that remind me of stuff my brothers would have worn.

I know he's only two, but I swear he's never going to grow out of using his ice-cream bowl as a hat. Maybe I should stop taking pictures of it. It perpetuates the myth that it's amusing.

Huh. I guess it is amusing. And cute. Until I have to clean it up. You should have seen his booster seat. Maybe he does it for the afternoon bath that inevitably follows.

We never found the third white kitty that disappeared. I really am completely flummoxed as to what could have happened. Here are the two white survivors. They have markings like a Siamese. One of them will have a permanent home with us. Probably the boy.

Yeah, enjoy it now, Mama Kitty. The vet is calling your name.

Mary Ann has staked her claim on this little guy. He is quite cute. Wait, it's a girl. I think.