Homicidal or Hilarious?

Those two options above, for whatever reason, seem to be the only two options for my mood this week. I've been sick-- almost flat on my back-- for the past two days, and have been trying to help out wherever I can, but wow! I feel like these two pictured below might just be a handful even if I didn't feel like I'd just been run over by a small SUV.

Four examples of why I feel this way:

Uno: Judah is in a very trying stage right now-- he clings to us as if separation would kill us all, and whines every five minutes whether we're separated or not. Recently, I tried to do dishes in the morning with two major impediments: 1) I could barely stand up anyway, and 2) Judah kept trying to pull my shorts down, causing me to list to and fro. Finally, just when it looked like he was going to walk away, he turned around and pulled my leg hair (apparently he missed the shorts by that much) as hard as he could. Naturally, I screamed like a frightened elephant. So, he screamed like a small child, which is inexplicably MUCH louder. Really, Judah?

Dos: However, for about three seconds a day, he will be super- awesome.... just about make up for the eight hours of whining. He will hold his arms above his head and start running to you, completely unaware that at eleven months old he shouldn't be able to run, until BOOM! He forgot about the stuffed animal sitting there and, to quote one of my favorite children's books, Corduroy, over he fell with a crash! And then both we and he will sit there giggling. Hilarious.

Tres: Elijah is almost three going on almost fifteen. I told him yesterday that he needed a diaper change, so naturally he dawdled. Finally, I laid down the ultimatum that either he came and let me change him "like a big boy" or "I would come get him like I would Judah," which always works. Elijah is nothing if not a big boy at heart.

Yesterday, however, he looked at me as if I had severely annoyed him and said-- direct quote, italics mine-- "I'm coming, Dad. Why you in such a hurry, anyway? I'm coming." Wow.

Cuatro (and final): In addition to that beautiful outburst, he had about a twenty-minute meltdown today completely unrelated to his split lip that he sustained yesterday at the hands of a flute (long, but pretty funny, story), but at the end, after twenty minutes of unbridled hostility, he turned around and with no guile whatsoever, said, "Thank you for getting me a Popsicle. I love it when you do things for me..." and went on a two-minute compliment barrage. He's basically bipolar, but measured in mood swings of seconds, not days. In other words, he's just like me :), as Rachel so often lovingly points out. I'm glad she's stuck with us. I don't thin anyone would blame her if she just pulled a Runaway Bride and was found five counties over.

Have a wonderful night!

A God-sized ass-kicking

I figure that if you don't read this post after that title, either a) you don't like God, with some possibly excellent reasons; b) you think the word ass is provocative, which unfortunately it is not in our house, or c) I have lost all ability to switch it up on you and surprise you, dear reader. Probably c. Oh well.

To the rest of you... this story is a little more personal than some. Just so you know. I include this picture of Judah just because he won't appear at all in the story elsewise, and he's getting so cute and walking everywhere that I feel he needs a little shoutout.

Over the past couple of months I have gone from feeling bulletproof to downright mortal. Though I had a relatively rough oh, first fifteen years (my own fault), once I hit high school I've felt pretty good about myself. Probably too good. When you drink Mountain Dew instead of water while you run around a soccer field for ninety minutes, you pretty much have to think you're bulletproof. It wasn't until well after I got out of high school that I realized just how dangerous that was. Thankfully, no heart attacks resulted as a consequence.

Lately, though, I have been a regular hypochondriac. I thought I was having heart palpitations daily for about two months, then quit drinking six cups of caffeine a day and realized I actually might have been having them, but I still felt the same way afterwards-- fearful, like I never knew what was coming.

It got to a point where I was actually concerned enough to go get a physical and have some bloodwork done. I'd been feeling like crap for a couple of weeks and the day of I had to fast for 12 hours, so I was already feeling absolutely awful, convinced that I had inherited the family diabetic gene, but lo and behold-- nothing. My bloodwork was basically unremarkable.

Fast forward to 6pm on a Wednesday night-- I was home with the boys, having weird flutterings again and just feeling like if I was going to die, now would be really inconvenient, if not embarrassing. I can just imagine my poor neighbor having to tell the police, "we finally thought something might be wrong after the boys were screaming for two hours straight and he hadn't quieted them at all..." etc. Enter Elijah. Strumming his horribly out-of-tune guitar and looking impish, he demanded I sing "Days of Elijah." If you haven't heard LJ sing "Days of Elijah," you clearly haven't been to our house. The original recording is here. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h4wl0VFgpjY&feature=fvst

It was as I sang that song that the thought popped into my head, and not of my own volition. "What if I don't have to live life this way?" What if, like it says in 1st John 4:16b-19,

God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. ¹⁷ This is how love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment: In this world we are like Jesus. ¹⁸ There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. ¹⁹ We love because he first loved us.

What if that were true? And what if I acted like it were true instead of just saying that I believed it? (Because I do that a lot-- say I believe something but not really act on it. It's actually one of my more annoying qualities. You need a list of the others, ask the Queen ;) And I was blessed to have a chance to believe, because these stupid heart things either were in my head and I couldn't get them out or something was really a little bit off.

So I started singing. Really, anything that I could remember from my childhood. Then I borrowed the guitar from Elijah and kept singing. Then I started singing falsetto, because my real voice was starting to crack. And all of a sudden, it was as if the crap in my chest was blown away-- it just left. I don't think that I noticed, honestly-- I was too busy singing. I think that I realized I might be up to something a little different when Elijah started getting REALLY into it and flashing all the lights in our kitchen like it was a dance rave, something he's never done. I just grinned and kept singing-- I hadn't felt this good in years. Literally, probably two or three years. And I just kept singing. Finally, a little after seven, I thought that even though I could probably sing until 9, Judah was looking pretty droopy-eyed. So I quit for ten minutes and put him back to bed... and after that we hummed more than sang, because he's the lightest sleeper I've ever known.

I don't think the memory will leave me for quite some time, though. Smashing away on a tuneless guitar with Elijah running back and forth putting the kitchen "strobe lights" on, the power of God came down... and I can't help but think that it all started with Elijah. Sometimes all it takes to move mountains is the simple prayers of children through their songs.

Have a wonderful night!!

If you come over our house...

... be very afraid!! Why, you might ask. I'll tell you. But it's going to take a little story-- that's just how this household rolls.

(That's Elijah mixing up a bomb-- I mean a cake. But that's not why you should be scared.)

It all started at 5:30 this morning, only fifteen minutes after I got up to go running like usual. Except this morning Judah decided to get up with me. I was not pleased. Neither was he, after he found out that getting up at 5:30 instead of 6:15 meant that he got locked in the basement with me for half an hour. Finally, dizzy from running, we headed upstairs for the showers, with a brief stop along the way to collect Elijah. Frankly, with all the caterwauling, it was pretty amazing that we didn't wake Sleeping Beauty up in the next room. Tiptoeing with Judah into the bathroom, I pulled back the curtain when the bathroom light began to flicker.

(There's Judah in all his glory-- if he wakes up at 5:30 tomorrow, God help us all!)

Anyway, right about the time I looked at the light, it stopped flickering. I looked away-- it started flickering again. This repeated -- I kid you not-- twice, maybe three times more. I was pretty sure that I was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Honestly, it disturbed me enough that I looked outside at the paltry inch of snow that had fallen overnight. No wind. Nothing even threatening the electrical cable. What was going on?

Like Sherlock Holmes, a plan began to form in my mind. It could only be one thing. But so unlikely-- still, it was the only thing left that it could be.

Rushing into Judah's room, I found Elijah. He had turned our electric space heater back on (I had turned it off when I took Judah downstairs at 5:30) and was wildly swinging the dial bacj and forth. Now you probably live in a house built after 1940. I don't, and most, if not all of our upstairs is on one BIG circuit. Taking advantage of this, Elijah was using the space heater as a dimmer for all of our upstairs lights. Intentional? Probably not. But if it was... he got me good.

Have an excellent night!

Oh the mayhem!!

Well, it's been awhile since I told you the regular old ins-and-outs of what's been happening here in the Cinema district, but it's been a little crazy. (I submit this above as evidence.) That picture just makes you want to ask, "What's going on?" Are they being sweet gentlemen and kissing each other? Is Judah pulling a Mike Tyson and trying to bite off Elijah's ear? Hmmmm...

In other news, we can't seem to shake Elijah of his first life obsession. We broke him of the pacifier with frustratingly little resistance -- as in, why didn't we do it earlier? But his obsession with fans... well, look below.

(In case you can't see, that's him drawing a fan on his new art board. In fact, it's the only thing he'll draw. At all.)

There was actually so much mayhem going around today that Judah went to bed at 6:30 and Elijah went to bed at 7:30-- both ridiculously early for each... especially Elijah, who is notorious for sleeping less than 10 hours a day INCLUDING naps sometimes. Did I mention that the reason they went to bed so early is that they refused to nap? Even though the Queen was REALLY sick? They weren't being kind, those little marauders.

P.S. Did I mention that she's pretty amazing? (I don't think that I could do what she does at 100%, never mind the 50% she's at.)

P.P.S. I think the mayhem is here to stay.

12 Days of Christmas Day the Last: Family!

Christmas is over! And thanks to the fact that I took the weekend off to do nothing but go to church, watch football, and nurse a sick wife, so is Martin Luther King Day... but I digress.

This year, Christmas was all about family-- and I think that's a good thing. We don't actually see much of either side of our families, either through distance--in the case of Rachel's family, who lives six to ten hours away depending on how fast you drive ;) or good old-fashioned Yankee independence--in the case of mine, who drop by once a month but mostly to watch football ... so a good old-fashioned dose of family never hurt anyone-- except Elijah, who this week had a his wonderful papa (that would be me) drop a candle on his head to show him what would happen to him if he kept his dangerous behavior up. I'm pretty sure that my showing him how much it might hurt did more damage than actually pulling the shelf down on him, especially psychologically, because now every night before bed he says, "when we brush teeth, Daddy, you're not going to drop candle on my head..." are you?" Memory like an elephant, that one. Anyways, I'm glad that this Christmas we got to be with family. It was even worth it to this workaholic to take some time off to see the adopted family....

(that would be Ina and Dick Tubbs, without whom -- especially Ina-- Elijah would be a depressed little man) or the Massachusetts family... and please note the apparent exorcism caught on film as my sister gives us the 'evil eye' :)

or the Delaware family, without whom our house would have no toys and no "Grammy and Pa! GrammyPa coming today??" just about every day, even though they can only come visit once a month or so.

We're thankful for them all... and the Christmas season was a great reminder of just how much we like these fine folks.

12 Days of Christmas Day 11: A Conundrum

One of the things that I got this Christmas (this is Micah speaking again,with many

thanks to Rachel on her fabulous guest post yesterday) was the opportunity to think about

the future. To use a terrible job interview question, where do I see myself in ten years??

Is it really doing this??

(And I don't mean sitting around looking useless sipping Coke like it's a fine wine. I mean writing-- that's just the closest thing to a Hemingway shot I've got kicking around.)

Or possibly could I be doing this??

(This, by the way, is shameless self-promotion: For the second or third time in five years the local paper took my picture while I was working. It was slightly after the 12 days of Christmas ended here, but I just wanted to brag a little bit... the actual link to see it in context is here--http://gtsnaps.smugmug.com/Gloucester-Daily-Times/January-2012/20888528_V3Xjq6#!i=1669576644&k=NTCZJwk )

Could I be doing this below in five years?? (Answer: I hope not. Being the face of a four-armed man, even if the other person is your best friend, is no way to spend your thirties.)

It's a tricky conundrum. I love my current job, which is mostly craftsman-type carpentry and house creations, but I don't think that: a) I want to beat myself up physically like I currently do day in and day out, aa) I don't really particularly want my own company, because sales is less my thing, and b) I really love to write. It's just that whenever I try and lock myself in the basement here and churn out some pages on my novels, well... c) the fact that I have two boys and a wife who don't really let me sit unattended for any length of time at all kicks in. That and d) I can never stay writing on one novel for more than a week-- I blame the ADD that runs around my head. Also, e) writing doesn't necessarily pay up front -- if ever :) So I don't know exactly where it's all headed-- I just had too much time to think about it this past week or two.

I do know one thing, though. No matter what I do, I will be doing it with this lovely lady --

Any thoughts??

12 Days of Christmas Day 10- Hertz Hurts

Hello everyone! Micah has graciously given me (the Queen) the blog post for today. I think it has to do mostly with the fact that today's story involves mostly me.

This year we celebrated 'Christmas' with my family over New Years weekend. For the past two years we've flown when travelling to DE but this year, with two little ones, and two years of delays due to flight changes/weather, we decided to drive. As my dear little almost-10-year-old car who has been perfect for our family does so much for us around MA, we decided to give her a break and rent a car for our trip. Plus with AAA we get a discount, unlimited milage, an e

xtra free driver, and some other fun things. This year AAA was giving a double upgrade so I even researved a small SUV for our trip for the price of an economy car. My car, as awesome as it's been, has no working tape player, no DVD player at all, no keychain door locker, and no cruise control so it's really the small things that make me excited and I was EXCITED!

Micah got home around 3pm and the boys and I were packed so we put them in their PJ's (the idea being they'd sleep most of the six/seven hour drive), and went to the rental office. When we got there (at 3:45) we started the usually 20 minute process of checking out the car. It soon became obvious that the computer system was very slow. At around 4:15 the lady told us our economy car needed an oil change so they would give us a free upgrade. I thought "Whoa-how big is our car gonna be!" But soon had my hopes dashed when we were given a Chevy Impala- WHAT? I asked why not our small SUV and the lady looked at me like I had two heads. "You never had a reservation for an SUV." Well, now I was confused, but I said nothing since it was still 4:20 and we were no closer to driving away. At that point, I sent Micah and our two adorable knights in pj's home while I waited out getting the car.

At 4:30pm, she stumbled onto the page of the reservation in which I HAD asked for a small SUV. "Oh I just saw this now. Sorry," she said. I don't believe I said anything; maybe I just nodded politely. At 4:35, the computer crashed-- before printing out the contract. At this point the lady called her manager in Salem to have them print off the car rental contract so she could drive me to their office so I could sign it. They told her they'd fax it to her. I again said nothing but definitely didn't bother nodding politely.

She left to get the fax from the other room and after leaving me alone for five, I called Micah. He picked up the phone and I believe I said something like "I'm going to lose it." (I'm sure he loved getting a call that started like that, but he handled it well and I thus did not in fact lose it!) We discussed me simply leaving but in all honesty she already had my credit card information and I was afraid she'd still charge me. Fortunately for everyone, she returned at 4:45 with the rental agreement for me to sign. I did ask for her manager's email address but she didn't have it and although she offered to have me email her so she could pass it on to him, I declined. (Things that make you go hmmm... chance of the complaint actually getting through, anyone?)

After booking it home, picking up the boys, grabbing dinner, and heading out at 5:30, we had a wonderfully smooth drive and arrived in DE at 11:30pm. All in all, a great trip that had a rocky start.

Looking back on the situation, I realized a couple things. First, we won't bring the boys with us again to pick up the car as it's just too hard entertaining them in a car rental office. (We didn't take any pictures, but Elijah kept wanting to climb in the cars in the showroom and Judah kept trying to crawl out the plate-glass doors.) Second, I will insist on leaving with the car I reserved. And lastly, that Micah is awesome. During the times when I am pushed beyond what I can handle, for whatever reason, Micah is my go-to guy. He encourages me, pushes me, comforts me, 'calms me down' so-to-speak and I'm thankful that he was only a phone call away on this Day 10 of Christmas.

12 Days of Christmas Day 9: Pictures Only!

12 Days of Christmas Day 8: V. Wilson and E. Wilson

One of the greatest treasures and blessings that we have over the holidays is to be able to still visit with my grandparents (and Rachel's as well). I barely remember seeing my great-grandparents, and for Elijah WILSON to get to hang out with Vernon WILSON, my grandfather, (see evidence above) is pretty precious. As I watched the two cranky contrarians (one 2, one 76) haggle it out over a guitar, I was reminded of what an amazing thing passing a legacy of grace to the newest generation can be. I wrote this piece a year or two ago to commemorate my grandfather's birthday, but was just musing on what we pass down to our kids this Christmas. I hope that it resonates with you all as well.

“A Legacy Passed”

When you name your firstborn son, you always aspire that you could give him a title of greatness. Most of us aren’t actually nobility nowadays but we who know Jesus have something better- real heroes. When it came to naming our firstborn, we decided to name him after two heroes- and thus Elijah Wilson Nimon came to be.

First, we wanted our son to be bold for Jesus. Though the original Elijah didn’t know the risen Christ, his boldness for Yahweh stood out in example after example. Though it’s unlikely that the first Elijah ever purchased land for a temple with money God hadn’t given to him yet, the way Gramp Wilson did, the boldness for the name of God in both men is something we want our son to grow into.

Second, we want our son to be a leader-even when others hedge at following. Time and time again we have seen Gramps, Wilson, lead the way- whether for his parishioners in Dover-Foxcroft long before we were born, or for the times we can remember at Calvary Temple in Waterville, or organizing centers of reconciliation and hope in Kigali, Rwanda- Wilson embodies the leadership that we hope little Elijah Wilson will someday grow into.

Finally, every parent wants their child to leave a legacy to their children- hopefully one that was passed from them, which they in turn received from their parents. Much as the original Elijah transferred a double portion of his spirit to Elisha, it is our dream that our son will someday grown in favor with God and man and become a God-fearing husband, father, and leader, just as the Wilson who came before him. Gramp, we want to thank you for funning the race, keeping the torch bright that we may give the fire to little Elijah- it truly is a legacy passed. 

.... And that's my lovely Gram doing her favorite thing in the world-- teaching an eager young man to read :)

12 Days of Christmas Day 7: Judah!!

One of the many delights that I was subjected to this Christmas season was getting a deeper look than the two often scream-filled hours at madcap knight-in-training #2: namely, Judah Clayton Nimon.

Judah is generally the easier of our two sons to overlook: it doesn't have anything to do with his pretty decent physical prowess-- he isn't eleven months old, and as I write this he's cruising around the basement-- nor does it have to do with his lovely and generally easygoing personality. No, the unfortunate fact of life in our house is that unless you can be as loud as Elijah and I, it's tough to get yourself noticed. Judah is a quick study-- he's gotten louder. Though he's not screaming in these little photo vignettes, it was pretty cool for this proud papa to see him in some full days when he really was having some fun.

He even wormed his way into the grownups table at Christmas dinner!

Well, fittingly enough, it's off to bed for him now. I hope Elijah doesn't destroy the house while I'm putting him down :)

12 Days of Christmas Day 6: Playing Nice

I realized something today, almost a week after Epiphany-- I know, right? (Now there's a high church pun if there ever was one.) The realization came after friends that we hadn't seen for quite awhile came over and brought their large, handsome young man of 14 months along with them. He's recently begun to walk and thus I brought out our little dump truck for him to cruise behind. Elijah and Rachel were actually out on their own errand and wouldn't be back for a little while, so it was just Judah and his friend, who probably has 10 pounds on him.

As soon as his friend started cruising behind the walker, Judah cut in and (gently, oddly enough) hip-checked him off the steering column. And it hit me-- we have TWO maudlin, rough-and-tumble boys. Elijah might get the headlines, but Judah "follows in his footsteps," so to speak. How could he not when at least once a day, Elijah sits on him for 10 seconds? And so it is that I'm incredibly proud of them to announce that over the holidays, they were pretty angelic when it came to their interactions with their cousin Rebekah (Bekah). For all the mayhem that ensues here, they were very gentle-- and I've got the pictures to prove it!!

Maybe it was just getting out of the house that scared them straight, but whatever it was, I was glad!!

12 Days of Christmas Day 5-- Trampolining with Uncle Andrew

One of my best memories of the holidays this year I have ZERO memory of. That's right, I'm admitting it. I wasn't even there. Didn't want to be there. And had no interest in joining in.

Sounds like a great time, you might say.

AND YOU'D BE RIGHT!!!

Because this is the story of when Uncle Andrew saved the day (no, no that Uncle Andrew from the Chronicles of Narnia-- rather, my brother). It was the day after Christmas and we were all settling into the couches at the Gloucester house, having a quiet dessert and chatting. Scratch that. Most of us were. Elijah, true to form, was doing something like this... "HI THERE! WANT TO PLAY WITH ME!"

Generally the answer to this was "um, no, but maybe later," which is adult-speak for "never gonna happen, kid, even if you are cute,"

The follow-up response was generally, "Oh, ok. Come upstairs and see fan with me now!" Elijah is not one to take a hint.

With chaos hanging in the balance, Uncle Andrew stepped in. "Do you want to go trampolining with me?" he gently asked LJ. Did he? I think he may have tried to sprint outside without a coat on. And for the next blissful hour, the only thing we heard from Elijah was a faint scream of "More! More!" Amazing.

As a final bonus, someone (Rachel?) managed to get a shot of the 'levitating LJ.'

And my brother is officially awesome.

12 Days of Christmas Day 4: A Priceless Friendship

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Today's Christmas memory is one of those "I-can't-believe-I-actually-got-that-shot" camera shots. Judah and Gabby (my in-laws King Charles Cavalier spaniel -- no ordinary spaniel she) had a bit of a love affair going for most of the weekend, kissing each other and (in Judah's case) doing mating dances... he had this weird little dance where he spun round and round that he would do for her and only her, but the height of their little fling was certainly the time that he leaned in for a kiss and she sucked up his pacifier.

Sitting on the kitchen floor "parenting" Judah, I saw the whole thing go down and hollered at Rachel that a camera was needed, while at least one person around us reacted sensibly with disgust that a dog was sucking (quite proficiently) a baby's pacifier. Without hesitation the Queen found the camera and tossed it to me. I just barely got the picture before Gabby came in to give me a slurp, too-- those are my hairy legs in the shot.

Best. Picture. Ever.

12 Days of Christmas Day 3: Breakfast with Ina and Dick

This year, Christmas began with the 25-day countdown of Advent and culminated with a wondrous breakfast Christmas with our friends from next door, Ina and Dick Tubbs... that's "my Ina" as Elijah always calls her and "Mr. Dick" that Judah crawls over to as fast as his little paws will take him.

Elijah was so upset at 7:00am when he woke up because he wanted "Ina and Dick come over now, please. Please!!! I go get them now!" Not wanting to ruin Christmas for anyone else, we told him that maybe we should wait until 8am when we had told them to come over. That didn't fly too well with Elijah. We found him yapping angrily at the back door that "it won't open, Daddy. Fix it!" Thank God for deadbolts, eh?

After a delicious breakfast of Rachel's sausage breakfast casserole, we retired to the living room where we all sat around and watched Elijah open gifts. Judah had no interest in doing anything except jump up on his little rocker and coo at Mr. Dick. Works for me. He must know that he's a knight-in-training, because he rode that thing like a little horse, scaring the dickens out of us multiple times, but of course never actually falling off.

Elijah's highlight gift was a "guitar string" (which, oddly enough, is just a plain old guitar) from Rachel and I... he insisted on bringing it EVERYWHERE for the first week, which is why you'll see it in most pictures of our vacation. He played it ambidextrously, which made it sound verrrry different when he played it upside-down-- I think it was designed to be a righty guitar.

But the best outtake from that morning would be this photo, where a) I look like I have man-boobs, b) Judah looks like a big dancing present himself, and c) the stalwart Marine in the corner looks like he's crying... that's just the kind of day it was!

12 Days of Christmas-- Day 2: Behind the Basement Door

My in-laws dearly love me. I know this because against all reason, they allowed their lovely daughter to marry me, let me take her six hours away (on REALLY good traffic days) and evenbought a house for me to manage right around the corner from us. ( I know that they probably also purchased it to see their superstar grandkids-- couple of pictures below, but it's been a lot of fun for me to renovate and maintain it, so for that I know they love me too.)

But on Saturday I really started to wonder a little bit. Because, you know, when you wander downstairs to what just might be the world's most fabulous basement (I like to think of it as my honorary 'man-cave'), generally you don't expect to locked in when you come back. But I was. And no one would let me out-- I think they didn't hear me. So I finally had to call the Queen five minutes later to let me out. When she stopped laughing hysterically, she came downstairs to let me out. Which was really funny until she pulled the doorknob off. Yup. Not just locked in-- locked in with no way to open the door. (This is my father-in-law trying to use his surgical skills on a doorknob.)

But here's why the man is a devastatingly effective surgeon. No panic. He'd planned for this very occasion. That's right-- he keeps all the tools in his basement storage area (which, coincidentally is bigger than my living room-- it's awesome!!) and had me find a screwdriver with which I eventually busted myself out. I replaced the doorknob the next day. I think it was the most useful thing I did all weekend. And that's the tale of why one day I may lock the Queen down there : ) -- one never knows. Tomorrow, a little bit of the mayhem that happened in Gloucester!

12 Days of Christmas: Day 1-- some pictures!!

So it's been awhile since the Court packed up its rented horseless carriage and headed south for the holidays AFTER celebrating a merry and maudlin Christmas right here in our own backyard (technically, the kitchen) with Ina and Dick on Christmas morning while neatly sandwiching in three days of nonstop noise and fun at the Gloucester homestead. Yeah, that's right. This particular Court doesn't really believe in taking it easy for the holidays. We party hard. And late. (And early-- especially Judah.) In fact, we did so much, it's going to take twelve days to tell you about it.

For today, though, I simply wanted you to see some of the craziness that happened down in Rachel's parents basement. (Where, incidentally, the funniest occurence of my Christmas happened-- tune in tomorrow!)


This is Elijah 'exercising' on the very stylish workout equipment. He didn't really go for the traditional methods-- why run when you can hang? (for a good 30 seconds, no less!!)







And there's Judah deciding if the treadmill is the one for him or if he's going to kick me off the stationary bike-- I gave up and went running later...


Tomorrow, the saga continues...