Christmas Adventures 2011

Greetings again! Micah asked me (the Queen) to do another guest post this time about Christmas most likely cause I love, love, LOVE Christmas! Did you get that? lol

Seriously though, beginning with Micah's birthday in November until January 1, our little castle is full of holidays, birthday, advent, and all the fun that goes along with them! And I LOVE it! In fact, in this house one might say - I own it (as in the responsibility, excitement of all the planning, preparing, and doing).

This year Christmas really started for me on December 1st when Elijah and I started doing advent together (Judah was there too but didn't really participate obviously). Each morning we would 'do advent' as Elijah called it by him finding a little booklet with the days number on it. I would then read part of the birth of Jesus story, he'd hang the booklet on the tree and then we'd read a verse and say a prayer. We also lit candles on Sundays with our advent candles while singing a verse of 'Oh Come, Oh Come Emmanuel.' My favorite part of that was after letting Elijah blow the candles out each time he's say "I made a wish!" as though they were birthday candles.

For Christmas this year, I got to have Christmas breakfast at our house. Our dear friends/adopted grandparents Ina and Dick came over and we had the traditional Clayton breakfast casserole, fruit and cinnamon rolls. Then we opened presents! This year Ina and Dick outdid themselves with wonderful and thoughtful presents for the boys. We also gave each child one 'bigger' toy and a couple stocking-stuffers. Judah couldn't really care less but Elijah got a toddler size real guitar and hasn't put it down since! I love giving our boys what I call intentional gifts. I don't like just buying anything but rather giving something they will love and that will benefit them. The guitar is perfect for my little music man! Plus Micah really likes it too and often Elijah is yelling at 'daddy' for his guitar back.

After breakfast we headed over to the Nimon's for gifts. Then I got to come back and have some downtime at the house while the boys napped (one of the benefits of living on 15min away from the in-laws). Later the boys and I went back for the meal, dessert, and some game playing. It really was a wonderful Christmas.

And the best part is I got to enjoy it! I think my mom (who is an amazing entertainer!) has taught me well that planning and preparing things ahead of time often means much more enjoyment for the hostest. Although I ran around doing a TON of fun Christmas activities and making a ton of food and having people over, etc., on Christmas day all the food was prepared, table set, and presents wrapped so I actually got to sit back and enjoy everything without missing all the fun!

While it would seem that I might be sad that Christmas is over with no more caroling, gingerbread house decorating, baking, partying, game playing, etc. we get to do Christmas again this weekend with the Clayton family! I bet you can't guess how excited I am!

Fuego! Fuego!

Hola, my Spanish speaking-friends. If you need a translation-- it's "Fire! Fire!" :) Mmmm-hmmm.

We were right about to have dinner, a friend and her wee little one were coming to join us, and all was right with the world. Well, almost everything. Rachel had finished up the pasta and had thrown the garlic bread into the oven. Naturally, Judah started melting down. To be fair, he hadn't slept save but for 45 minutes all day, and we knew it was coming-- it just happened at a bad time.

Metaphorically speaking, Judah was a bit like the magician's sleight of hand-- nothing really awful, but a distraction from where we should have been looking. By the time I got him calmed down and fed the LJ, it was almost 6pm. Rachel headed downstairs to check her email, and the rest of us waited for our guest.

I started coughing a little and smelled the faintest hint of burning, but a quick check of the pasta showed nothing, so I went back to my 10-grid sudoku puzzle-- a doozy, and again, something that took a little too much attention. Suddenly, there was an acrid smell in the kitchen. It had to be the oven. Opening the door wide, I peeked in and called softly down to the basement. "Rachel," I said, "I think you might want to come take a look at this."

"What is it?" said my lovely wife.

"Nothing much," I said. "But the toast is on fire."

A note to myself in the future-- if I ever need the Queen to come without hesitation, I should use that line. She grabbed two potholders and ran the flaming cookie sheet outside, where they extinguished themselves. Case closed.

"You know what the worst thing is?" she muttered to me after they were finally smouldered out, "I bet they're perfectly done on the other side."

You know what-- they were!! Have a wonderful night!

of all the things I've lost I miss my dignity the most!!

WARNING: This post is designed to scare anyone recently married or about to be married from having kids anytime soon ;)

For those of us already with kids, it might sound like a typical day at the office, so to speak...


So it's Wednesday, and the Queen is off to work. Elijah is playing quietly by himself (glory halleluljah!) so Judah and I head off to the bathroom. Normally he runs around and thinks he's being naughty by trying to dive into the bathtub while I get ten minutes of relative quiet to himself, and all is right with the world. Not today. Today he figures out that the bucket of my toiletries is available for throwing all over the bathroom, and immediately starts destroying the entire room, item by item.

This calamitous noise naturally attracts the attention of the LJ, who isn't about to let a good mess pass him by. He lumbers in and joins the mayhem. Seeing this, Judah gives up and starts trying to climb up on me. Maybe you, dear reader, are one of those types who is naturally free and easy, but I'm not. I wouldn't even change with the other kids after sports practice in high school. Now I am sitting on the can with a 10-month-old attempting to scale me like K2 or Everest. Ugh!!!

It gets better, though. Apparently Elijah figured out that he couldn't destroy anything else on the floor and turned his attentions elsewhere, because as I slung Judah as far away as I could for the fifteenth time, Elijah (with an eerily timed bonzai! yell) pulled the curtains down with a crash! The curtains are ten feet away from the loo, as the Brits would say. All of a sudden I actually wanted Judah crawling on me for modesty's sake. Sensing this, he went to play with the curtains. Curse you, Judah. Seriously.

So huddled under as many books as I could find, two small madmen prancing around with glee, what would naturally happen but my cell phone ringing. It's the Queen. "Just wanted to let you know," she said cheerfully, "my work didn't need me after all. I think I'm going to stop by for a book and go read at Starbucks for the evening. I feel like I've earned it." (Parenthetically, she had, but I didn't really feel like conceding this at that point.) "How are you all doing?"

I told her. I'm pretty sure she wished she hadn't asked.

If you want to continue through life with your dignity intact, just remember (especially you ladies-- dignity is definitely checked at the ER doors during childbirth) kids aren't the way to go -- in spite of that, I'm glad we had them, even if it was the end of all things modest and staid. Have a wonderful night!

I looked up and realized...

... that I have no life.

Let me rephrase that-- I have exactly the life I always dreamed of. I have a fantastically compassionate and beautiful wife, two CRAZY little boys, a house that only needs minor repairs, what feels like a steady job and no (diagnosed, at least) anxiety disorders.

It's just that I don't really do anything except go to (6 days a week) work or (1 day a week) church and come home, then repeat cycle. Not very interesting-- and that's ok. Because while I'm at home being uninteresting, stuff like this happens:

While attempting to bathe/ change/ rediaper two boys at once, I have LJ on his bed changing him when (surprise surprise) Judah screams. I mean really screams. Because I'm the overreacting type, I yell at LJ without even looking. He must be guilty, because he starts saying that he's sorry right away. "Sorry Judah for kicking you..." I look and behold, Judah has a red welt on his face. Seems he stuck his face a little too close to LJ's ticklish little behind and pow! got kicked in the face for his troubles. "Sorry for kicking you-- in the face" I prompt, and Elijah repeats the apology. Satisfied, I turn to continue putting his pajamas on.
"Daddy," Elijah says, "I leave footprint on his face."


And that's why my life just might be more interesting than yours after all. Have a wonderful night!

The 'polite switch'

polite switch, n. 


      an unknown nerve ending, often hidden under layers of boorish behavior, that when triggered turns even the surliest children into offspring from the Leave It to Beaver era.


                     Wherever this magical switch was on Elijah, someone accidentally pressed it yesterday... and we are all quite happy about it!




       Gone (temporarily, I'm sure) are the crazy tantrums and random acts of naughtiness... replaced by such things like this morning:

       [Elijah walks downstairs and gets up on his chair]

       Elijah: I really like you, Mama.

       Rachel [shocked]:  Why, thank you, Elijah.  I really like you too.

       Elijah:  You're welcome.

       Me:  Elijah, I'm proud of you.  That was so sweet.

       Elijah:  You're welcome, Dad.


I didn't want to push it, so I stopped there.


        Or this morning again when Rachel and I were being cranky with each other (which was my fault, by the way, because I have no short-term memory... it is, however, the first time I've been wrong this month, so I thought it worth noting ;)

       Elijah [interrupting said argument]:   Too loud back here.  Quiet, please.

       Me:  Oh, ok.  Sorry.

    Seriously, I felt like I was at a tennis match.




 It even happened last night, when he played independently for an hour with Mama Giraffe and Baby Panda.  Rachel and I actually let him stay up half an hour past his bedtime because he was being so good, we didn't want to mess with it.  Two things that interested me about his playtime:  One, it's the first time that I can remember that it's been a mama and baby-- normally, it's a daddy and baby.  Apparently, at almost three years in, he has finally decided his mama loves him... it took long enough.  Second, what exactly would the father be if the mother is a giraffe and the offspring is a panda??


       Seriously, the things that you have the time to ponder when you're not running after your kids all day every day!!  The 'polite switch' might be temporary, but we're going to love every minute of our little knight's behavior until it reverts!!

PRIMAL FEAR

is a) a really awful movie starring Richard Gere

AND

b) an accurate description of what was going around our house at 2 am night before last.

(Disclaimer: I was really the most scared that I have ever been. Having said that, feel free to laugh-- we're all safe, and it got a LOT funnier about 36 hours after it happened. Also, I throw in a picture taken almost two years ago of Elijah raiding the chip bag because it's pretty creepy too.)

The story all started when the Queen somehow misplaced her keys that day. No one knows where she lost them, and two hours of searching later (searching that she somehow managed to tear herself away from to go eat, drink and be merry at a Christmas party) I still hadn't found them. So she came home and we went to bed. Elijah, bless his soul, was having a rough night himself and kept waking up screaming with night terrors.* So we weren't getting much sleep.

I had finally drifted back off to sleep when I got a sharp elbow in the ribs. "Micah! Someone's trying to get in the back door!" Normally I don't really worry about these things-- our doors are securely deadbolted, etc. But of course TONIGHT our keys were potentially floating around somewhere, so I listened. Nothing. "Rachel," I whispered irritably, "Go back to"

WHAM! I definitely heard that. Someone had just opened our screen door. I panicked. Doing what every male does when they panic, I froze. "Did you hear that?" she whispered again.

"Yeah I heard it."

"Are you going to go check?"

And do what, I thought to myself. Get shot? Hmmm. I was now terrified. "Maybe we'll see if it's just the wind."

"I don't think so."

"We'll, let's see." CLICK! Oh crap! I had just jumped out of bed (to protect my family-- I guess there was one courageous bone in my body) when the first wave of adrenaline really hit. And by adrenaline, I mean nausea. I was so dizzy that I could barely stand up. I raced halfway down the stairs and realized that I had nothing in my hands.

"Well?" the very anxious Queen inquired when I got back.

"I didn't go down yet," I admitted with shame. "I need something to defend us with."

Next to our bed there is a flashlight and a battery screw gun. I grabbed the screw gun and ran downstairs, bellowing "HELLO! HELLO!" I suppose if someone was around the corner, I would have pointed the gun at him and told him to freeze, but there was no one there--alomst a disappointment at this stage... I needed something to do with all that adrenaline. The door seemed deadbolted as usual, and no windows were open. I headed back upstairs, a sense of pride in my step. Maybe I wasn't the world's biggest chicken.

"Nothing," I said. "Let's switch sides for tonight so I'm closest to the door."

Something I should mention at this point: I left every light in the downstairs on. If someone did come back for more, I was going to see him long before he got to me-- and I put a battery in the screw gun so it would make some noise if I had to use it.

Two hours later, I was still awake when I heard Elijah wake up. Normally he screams at night when he wakes up, but curiously enough I heard him get out of bed (something he KNOWS he's not supposed to do) and come wandering over to our room. I think all the light filtering up from downstairs had messed with his sleep cycle. "Morning time," I heard him mumble to himself. "Daddy, wake up!" As he opened the door to our room, I heard Rachel stir.

"Lemme up!" he demanded, as he always does at 6:00 am when he wakes up. Small problem: It was 2:45am. BIG problem: The Queen didn't know he had come into the room. Primal fear, meet lungs. Rachel screamed like she hadn't in awhile.

"Rach, it's LJ... Rach, it's LJ... Rach, it's LJ." I was legitimately terrified now that she was going to have an aneurysm. Thankfully, she realized what was going on within ten seconds (to her credit, she wakes up much quicker than I do), and it all turned out fine. Well, except for the not really sleeping again that night. My adrenaline has just now returned to normal, I think.

And we've made one small change: We have furniture barricading every entrance. We might perish in a fire, but dang it, no one's getting in!!!

Have a wonderful (and hopefully, less stressful) night!!

*Actually, at one point Rachel woke me up to go comfort him and then had to come back twenty minutes later to get me-- I wasn't really awake, and had wandered into his room, laid down in the bed next to him, and fallen asleep myself. Just so you understand how tired we were already.

life-changing words

I've decided that the thing about big U-turns in your life is that they're unmarked. Unlike the highway (now I've got Tom Cochrane's "Life is A Highway" blaring in my head) there aren't any signs saying, "I-90-- two miles" to let you know that in fact, a big change is coming up. And so it was that I almost missed one of the biggest changes in my life this past year amidst the rest of a regular Sunday.

It was actually right in the middle of the Sunday mayhem that I wrote about last post (http://lifeonkingarthurscourt.blogspot.com/2011/12/craziness-at-church.html) when I was listening to the priest's sermon (and I use the word listen somewhat loosely-- I have an attention span of slightly longer than -- what's that? -- oh, squirrel!! -- two seconds. He was talking about his recent trip to the Holy Land and Palestinian culture. It was an offhand remark for him, but a bomb of a dawning idea in my head. "One of the most important things a father can do is their culture," he said, "is to bless their children. It is one of the most critical roles that a man can have." Just like that. Fifteen seconds that I almost let waltz right by me untouched.

But what an idea! I think in all fairness it should have occurred to me sooner, or that I should have already known this. But-- one of my biggest roles as a human-- as a parent-- is to bless my children. And so I started three days ago, in fact. Every night, as part of their bedtime routine, I bless them. I tell them things that I hope for them and look for things to complement them on. I ask God to speak His own blessing into their life. I'll let you know how it turns out in the long run, but I'm excited. It's a pretty awesome task!

The Lord bless you and keep you;

The Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you;

The Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.

--Numbers 6:24-26

craziness at church...

I think that we have finally settled in at our new church, at least enough that I can finally write a little something about all the madness that happens during those magical hours from 10:30 to 12:30 on Sundays when God shows up, the music is spectacular -- I don't know anywhere else that you can get a full choir, a massive pipe organ, and a trumpet many Sundays, and a peculiar brand of mischievousness descends on our two little madmen who a) can't read to follow along with the service, but b) we still don't want them screaming their bloody little heads off. Yeah, it's a recipe for disaster. Just saying. If you don't think it is, look into the eyes of the Queen and Elijah in this picture and then imagine them causing all sorts of trouble-- not hard to do, is it :) ?

With that in mind, here's three things that I'm still nervous about-- one of which already came true: First, I want to point out that we're still not used to the whole burning of incense. This fact was driven home one morning about a month ago now when we showed up and walked into church and as we did, my brain went, "Hmmm.... something smells funny!" but I didn't think any more of it until Elijah yelled, "Where's the fire?" and pointed with great intensity at the smoke billowing from the front of the church. Yours truly, being a total lightweight when it comes to smoke, then spent most of the morning hacking up a lung-- look, there's a reason I've never taken up smoking, all right?

The other point about the incense that Rachel and I are mildly worried about (in the sense that we REALLY want to see it happen) is that the head incense guy (a very sweet man by the name of Michael) is very, very good with the incense pot-- he spins it this way and that twirling smoke gently into the faces of the priests as he walks up the aisle, almost the way I always imagined Gandalf blowing smoke rings in The Hobbit. But... we're convinced that one day a child will come blithely wandering into the aisle ahead of him and clang! out like a light. We're not taking bets on this, but we do try and keep Judah away from wherever the incense happens to be... he's kinda the cute, slightly oblivious type.

Secondly, another of the things we learned over the course of time was that when you approach the altar, you need to 'acknowledge' it. In one sense, this is a very beautiful and thought-provoking concept. The holy King of all Creation wants to come down and fellowship with you and has made his dwelling for that moment in the altar of worship... pretty cool to think about. In practicality, however, exactly what does one do to acknowledge the altar? The first time I had a reading to do on the altar, I was terrified. I watched what everyone else who did the readings up front did for weeks, but there was no real set pattern. One gentleman bowed deeply (I wasn't sure that I could bend that low), another woman almost curtseyed as she came to it. I settled for a somewhat awkward stop, drop and roll (actually, I just stopped for a one-count) and then continued forward. Until someone explains to me exactly what's supposed to happen, this low-church convert is going to try a sensei-bow next time... we'll see how it goes.

Finally, the thing that I am really most terrified of is ten minutes with the LJ without anything to distract him. As you may or may not have read, the last time we went on a SATURDAY, for heaven's sake, the boys terrorized me while our friend's one-year-old sat placidly by, not making a peep. I don't know what kind of drugs they gave him, but I want some for the LJ. This Sunday, he was a gentleman upon his return from the nursery, where he spends most of the service, all the way through Communion, where he receives a blessing from the priest, but then we had ten minutes of beautiful organ music to sit through. I love the sound of the pipe organ blasting out sonatas. Elijah-- not so much. I looked over at one point and he had somehow made it all the way down the aisle and was half-snuggling with the very surprised gentleman there. Upon us finally corraling him, he came back and appeared to be happily playing with his little magnetic Nativity set. He smiled, held up the little donkey, and looked at me with a playful grin. "Aw, Elijah!" I thought. "I think he might be understanding the Christmas story." Then he looked up to the rafters and in one quick motion, let the donkey fly. I don't know if you have ever seen the end of any overdramatized sports movie where time stops and the ball/ puck / player hovers, suspended in the moment, but that's exactly what happened here. I think that I was cringing well before the donkey landed with a soft thud next to a distinguished science professor TWO rows in front of us. It stuck the landing. He looked a little surprised, but was quite gracious when I slunk forward to reclaim it. In other news, the entire three rows around where we were sitting was almost howling with laughter. I guess there's no telling what will land on you when you sit near us in church... but I don't think we're ever going to let him play with anything heavy.

Christmas outtakes...

Elijah: "I put pencil in my ear. Now I just like Daddy..."

(because apparently I jam a pencil in my ear to go to work each day... he was so proud that he finally got the pencil tucked behind his ear after, say, ten minutes and two meltdowns of trying)

That little outburst the other day got me thinking of all the non sequiturs that Elijah comes up with in our conversations-- some brilliant, some offputting, some obvious.

Me: " The little red hen asked them all, 'Who wants to plant the wheat?" ... and what did the cat say?"

Elijah: "Not I!"

Me: "And what did the dog say?"

Elijah: "Not I!"

Me: "and what did the mouse say?"

Elijah: "Squeak!"

(it must be the new edition, Fairy Tales Revised!)

(sound of Judah screeching from living room)

Rachel: What happened?

Elijah: Judah fall down and cry.

Me: How did he fall down?

Elijah: I pushed the table into him.

Mystery Solved!

(sound of Judah screeching from hallway.. notice a trend)

Elijah: Judah-- don't cry!!

Judah: Waah!

Elijah: Dad! Make him stop crying please!

Judah: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Elijah: Now!

(sound of peaceful silence)

Elijah:I put passy [pacifier] in his face so he stop! Good Judah!

... and there's so much more, I just can't remember it all!

Since we're on the subject of Christmas outtakes...

... I feel like this is a good summary of what life is like here at the Court.

a surprise scavenger hunt for the Queen

Well, I have only a few things to say today, because this household is racing against the clock. The Queen returns at any minute and has a surprise scavenger hunt awaiting her-- but you all can play along too... you just don't get to drink the prize at the end. :) Poor you. Above you see a wrapped bottle of liquor. (And by liquor I mean something with so little alcohol I bet small children could drink it unaffected, because that's all we lightweights can handle).

Below you will see six photos, each a different hiding spot for the six bottles currently hidden throughout the house. Ever since we first met (see yesterday's story http://lifeonkingarthurscourt.blogspot.com/2011/12/for-queen-on-her-birthday.html for those details), she has LOVED scavenger hunts. Since I royally screwed up her birthday yesterday, the boys and I are taking advantage of the fact that today is a new day and hopefully it won't have to be rescued by eleven fabulous friends taking her out to dessert and cheering her up-- because, you know, dessert at 10:30 isn't the same as dessert at seven. So, my beautiful Rachel, I am sorry, and here's the key to the first round of the hunt. To the rest of you, here's a little brain exercise in finding small green bottles in confusing (moderately) backgrounds. Happy hunting!

Amongst the games it hides....

Nothing mysterious about this one, but a little harder to figure out where the shot was taken...

The easiest one to find...

And finally, hiding amongst the mess...

To reward anyone that could find all six (I'm guessing that's everyone ;) , a little Elijah story... I came into the kitchen today to see him twisting a ribbon around his torso back and forth. "Dad," he called out, "what am I doing?" This is his cue that I'm supposed to 'guess' what he's doing, and normally it's pretty obvious. I had no idea, and after two or three guesses, I gave up. "LJ," I said, "what are you doing?" Big grin.

"Puttin' on my bra!" Yup-- you can't make this stuff up. And that's why I'm getting a lock on the door for my poor wife in the morning. Have a good night all!

for the Queen on her birthday

For the Queen's birthday I wanted to tell the story of waaaay back when ...

I first noticed her. (I say that because she apparently already knew who I was, but I had no idea who she was.) It was a brisk, blustery day in late fall New England. The leaves were perfect, and so was the quad for watching the sights pass by. Stationed in a perfect corner room in Wood Hall, a building which no longer exists in the small campus of Gordon College, two or three of my friends and I would sit playing games and generally staring out the window watching attractive women pass by. (I'd like to offer an excuse for my behavior, but then, as now, there is really no excuse. At least the story has a happy ending!)

My girlfriend of four years had recently dumped me-- she lived 500 miles away and didn't think a long-distance relationship would work, so my interest in the greater world at large had significantly increased. Anyway, that day was pretty special, because that was the day that I saw my wife. She was a gorgeous brunette, cruising in between some of her friends on her way to class, and I instantly fell in 'curiousity' with her. Small problem. Short of running after her and demanding her name, a classic movie technique but not one that scared little me would ever attempt, I had no way of ever seeing her again.

Actually-- not a problem at all. Thanks to one of the world's worst ideas (really-- it was so bad that it was literally scrapped the next year), Gordon had decided to put every person on campus in a photo directory with all their home address info along with phone number if they so desired, etc. It was basically FaceBook without any privacy settings whatsoever... I know, insert obvious joke here. Anyways, we used it for really mature things like giving away phone numbers of friends to complete strangers or having our own March Madness tournament to determine once for all the most attractive people on campus-- stuff like that. In this case, though, it allowed me to check the entire senior class (which took about two hours) for who my mystery girl was-- she was clearly an upperclassman, with sophisticated looks and taste... I could tell just my looking at her. Actually, I couldn't, because two hours later I had determined that she wasn't a senior. The real moral here is that I'm glad her maiden name began with a C, because almost six hours later I found her in the FRESHMAN class. Now that's creepy with a capital C.

And speaking of creepy (here's a happy photo four years later at graduation), note the awful facial hair I'm sporting. I look like I'm ready to charge into a suburban wading pool thinking it's the great outdoors. Back to the story: now I knew who she was, and STILL had no way to meet her. Six hours of stalking wasted for nothing. But that all changed one fateful morning in the cafeteria. I saw her standing by the microwaves warming up a bagel, fearlessly walked over and said, "Hey-- it sure gets warm over here by the toasters in the morning!" And it worked!

By the way, I'm still pretty sure that was the WORST pickup line in the history of such things... but I just wanted the Queen on her birthday to remember our first meeting ten-odd years ago. Good night all!

photo caption contest!!!

So today's blog is short and sweet... and it's open to all, not just those of you who regularly read here... write in a photo contest caption below as to what's going on in the picture above.

My two best were: "Elijah finally understands the Leaning Tower of Pisa"

OR " Kids, it looks like this game of Jenga has officially gotten out of hand!"

Anyways, I'll let it go until the 8th of December and then announce our household's vote as to the best caption. You'll win-- well, respect, admiration and (very remote shot here) a job as a copy writer... really, just our respect and admiration, but it'll be fun!!!!

The Queen's Math

The Queen's Math is much like the Queen's English here in America-- it's been so trodden upon that it doesn't make sense any more. (Sound of English Literature major departing his high horse.) In a lighter vein, the Queen's math are some equations that happen a lot around this little part of America. Some make decent mathematical sense; others not so much-- enjoy!!

A) 1 man listening to Straight No Chaser's cover of "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" = 1 blown mind ... sorry to subject you all to what I think is the best acapella act going, but this medley is just crazy!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KdmOVf8eam4&feature=related

B) 2 boys trying to do a puzzle = 48 pieces put together in a very short time. Pretty amazing! Actually, make that 47, 46, 43, 41... dammit Judah! Leave the puzzle alone! Yeah, there's really no chance of the puzzle staying together-- I'll get back to you on this one.

C) 20 feet of gutter blown off the house in ice storm last December = 11 months to fix (because, as you know, I'm a carpenter-- and fixing my own house was apparently a really low priority... at least it's finally done!)

D) 4 people congregated to take Christmas pictures = 4 different ways to look at the camera... oh well. I think there's a good picture or two kicking around from that photoshoot ;)

E) 1 candycane = 5.5 gallons of drool... we actually just saved it for his bath later on that week (I'm kidding, folks!)

and for the grand finale, I submit a somewhat more complicated equation....

F) 97 holes in a colander + 1 curtainrod + 2 pacifiers + 1 humidifier + 44 puppies on pajamas + 1 book = 1 sleeping Elijah!

And that's pretty much what it takes to exhaust him to the point of sleep... there have been a couple nights lately where we have had to stay up later than we would otherwise have naturally drifted off to sleep because we live in fear that we will one day wake up at midnight to him stretched out on the couch, watching TV and living it up while we sleep. We'd at least like to postpone that to age 14 or so.

Have a wonderful night!