Pesky

On January 7, 1985 my parents gifted me with a very dubious present--a pesky little brother who would go on to spend years of his life pestering me while convincing our parents of his general awesomeness.  They only see the fact that he is slightly taller than me (a foot is nothing in the grand scheme of things if you ask me) and slightly more athletic than me (the trophy case in my parent's house has exactly one trophy that does not boast of his glories, and I'm pretty sure that mine was one of those given to everyone who participated).  Then, take into consideration the facts that he is not only younger than me but also male, and you cannot be surprised that he always got away with everything I didn't.  Don't mention to me TVs in bedrooms because I've never gotten over him getting one when I was never, ever allowed to even consider that idea.  Curfews are also a sore subject.  ...10 years later....

Now, Curtis just finds new ways to pester me, like beating up my husband:

Buying my daughter Christmas presents with literally 17 twist ties that have to be individually undone in order to extricate the pieces from the box:

Teaching my son to sing "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause" and then to immediately become grossed out by the very idea:

Using my son as a basketball and attempting to throw him into the hoop after Aunt Jenna's ball game:

And, while there is no photographic evidence of the rest of this tragic tale, I can only promise its veracity--single handedly causing me to lose two consecutive games of Ticket to Ride followed by a dastardly and soul-crushing defeat in Royal Hearts.

Luckily, I managed to come back and own him in our last game of the season.  Years from now, looking back on the Christmas season 2010, only one pertinent fact will remain: I came out on top.  Where I belong, naturally ;)

My Favorite Kind of Christmas Wrapping

Has a bow and adorns one of my favorite people on this Earth...

Robby's Attempt at Decorating for the Holidays

Dear Santa,

My son drew a picture for me for Christmas . . . . all over the kitchen . . . . in permanent marker. Next year, could you let him know that a hug or even a half eaten cookie would be a better surprise?

I think I might need some therapy for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder at this point. So much for a laid back afternoon of watching some good football and maybe sneaking in a nap.

Ode to the DumDum

Dear DumDum,

I want to apologize to you for never appreciating your amazing qualities before. As a child and even up to very recently, if offered one of your kind I would turn up my nose and politely decline. Little did I know that at only 25 calories a pop and no fat that you actually have magical powers.

I had the good fortune to stumble onto your powers at Halloween when well intentioned people put you into my son's Elmo candy carrier. Then, I felicitously decided to offer you as a reward for good potty behavior on the day after Halloween. To my surprise and delight, my son was immediately enamored. Now that you are the regular treat on offer, we are more than one month accident free. A magical Christmas present to be sure. I promise to never underestimate your goodness again.

Points for Creativity

So, as many of you know, we have been trying to sell our house for over six months now. Obviously, it is not the greatest time, but well, we need some more space--especially once June hits. This weekend, we had a second showing on the house, and we could not help but let our hopes get up just a bit.

Today though, we got the feedback. Great location! Great curb appeal! Clients love the living room and dining room area. However, my clients are very tall, and they just don't feel that the layout of the house will work for them as a result.

Too tall. There you go. So, if you know of any shorties who are looking for a great house in a great location for a great price in Fort Worth, send them our way. But, if your friends who are house hunting are tall, please let them know that our house may just not be the one for them.

This has been a public service announcement courtesy of Hobbits Unlimited.

Very Christmassy

Juliet loves to put on her reindeer antler headband and then to walk to the nearest adult for the inevitable coos of how cute she is.

And I always comply. I mean, look at her.

A Tiny Thing to be Thankful For

In the spirit of the season, I thought I'd post about something for which I'm super grateful. It's been 12 longs weeks but my strict "no caffeine" regimen has been lightened in favor of a light caffeine rule. So, my iced tea breaks are back, even if not for every day. Oh Sonic, how I missed ye.

... of course, that is not the only tiny thing we are grateful for this season :)

Family Portrait, redux

Golf is a, uh, .... Wonderous Sport?

We recently went to Academy to do some early (ish) Christmas shopping. The plan was basically that the boys would play around on the little practice putting green while Juliet and I did the more civilized shopping . . . like in the children's shoe section . . . or the outdoor cooking section . . . or the pretty much anywhere but the golf section.

Yet, somehow, there we all four were while Juliet and Robby battled for ground on the green, each sure that his/her golf ventures were more crucial than the other's. My attempts to lure Juliet off the putting green were entirely unsuccessful, and the final whisking away involved real tears (just hers, though I don't think a few tears on my part would have been wholly unjustified...)

I have heard all of the great benefits of golf. Trust me, golf runs thickly in the veins of both sides of the family. But, when I think of being a golf mom, all I can picture is my mother walking 36 holes in both pouring rain and scorching heat without being able to really talk to anyone or getting breaks to eat. No thank you. I am resigned to having one golfer in the family. But, two? That is just cruel.

I have hatched plans already to prevent any further interest on my daughter's part for this strangely alluring sport. My plans include new clothes, new toys, a later bedtime, access to sweets.....in short--whatever it takes.

Though, now that I think about it, maybe my real plan should be highly encouraging her to take up golf. It seems to me that even at the tender age of one, she has figured out that if Mommy thinks it is okay to play with, there is probably something more fun to be had somewhere. Of course, golf clubs are just destructive enough that she might figure out that they are actually a great thing to get her hands on after all.

Why am I starting to feel like I am already sunk on this one?????

Proud

This is a picture from the Tarleton women's basketball game tonight. The amazing woman shooting the free throw is my sister-in-law Jenna, wife of my very lucky brother. In the span of less than a year, she has faced ACL surgery, multiple bloodclots that arose as a complication from that surgery, long recovery and lots of hardwork to overcome the effects of both of those, and most recently, a foot injury.

Yet, there she is, out on the court being a superstar. She never gave up on her dream, and she worked incredibly hard to get there. We are so proud.

The Boys Club

I have been aware since I was a little girl of the existence of a phenomenon that I have come to call the Boys Club. While this is not a physical, card carrying, dues paying organization, it is very much a living and active organization.

To find proof of this organization, simply observe any two males who are in the proximity of one another. Often, these males are immediately drawn to one another simply due to their gender. They not only bond over the pure fact that they are both male, they revel in proving their manliness to one another through an extremely wide variety of activities that expand and broaden as they grow older, but it doesn't seem to change entirely. The other option is competitive facing off, but that is the stuff of another post.

When Robby was born, Bryan and his brothers would collectively hold Robby while softly (for them) chanting, "Boys! Boys! Boys! Boys!" I thought that this was cute--a playful gesture. Little did I realize that it was actually an iniation process into the club, which I have now learned is something that boys are aware of from birth. I don't think I was quite prepared for this.

I am constantly amazed at how Robby identifies himself so proudly as a boy. If he sees a pair of pink converse shoes, he is quick to point out that he can't wear them because he is a boy. If Juliet tries to play with his toys, he sometimes tells her that she can't, citing that it is because she is a girl (or a baby, or both, but you get the point).

If we can't convince Robby to get dressed in long pants or a long sleeved shirt, despite the need due to the weather, (for some reason, Robby strongly prefers shorts and short sleeved shirts--and short socks come to that) Bryan can simply go put on something similar, and then Robby will want to wear it too. Because they are boys, and those are the clothes that boys wear.

Which leads me to the problem of belts. Because Bryan is so skinny, he needs a belt all the time. But, Robby doesn't have a belt. So, he gets upset because he is not dressed enough like Daddy. So, Daddy ends up going without a belt. Santa, if you are reading this, can you bring Robby a nice belt for Christmas so that his daddy won't run the constant risk of losing his drawers in public?

(both are wearing grey baseball shirts, blue jeans, and black tennis shoes...no belt)

Happy Halloween!

This year Halloween was really fun because they were both old enough to dress up, and Robby was definitely big enough to get in the spirit of things. We got to go trick-or-treating twice--once with the school on Friday morning and once this evening at our church.


Here are some pics from the events:

(We totally bribed him with a piece of candy to get him to smile for this one :)

Not all ballerinas can suck their thumb and perform their moves at the same time.

Robby was thrilled to get to trick-or-treat with Aiden. This was their first year not to have matching costumes, though we moms never actually planned it the first three years.

Robby and Brodie are ready to take this joint for all the candy they can get!

If I play my cards right, that banana will be mine!

And a Happy Halloween it was :)

A Real Texan Now!?

I moved to Texas in 1990 at the ripe age of 9 after being born and raised in Fort Collins, CO. My dad is a born and bred Texan, and even though my mom didn't grow up in Texas, she was born here and graduated from high school here. So, I consider myself to be of Texan heritage. After 20 years here, after marrying a Texan, and after giving birth to two Texan babies, I think I have the right to call myself a true Texan.

But, there was a missing key ingredient. After years of trying to figure out the missing link, I finally hit upon it. How can I be a true Texas girl if I've never owned a pair of cowboy boots? (And, no, the red lace up ropers from 5th grade DEFINITELY don't count.). Last week though, my sweet husband bought me my very first (and let's be straight here--very likely my only) pair of boots.

So, here I am. 29 and finally a true Texan. What a good day. Let's hope the Rangers do me proud.

One of These Things is Not Like the Other

We have a very set nighttime routine with Robby in terms of getting ready for bed. The routine is as follows, with very rare deviations:

1. Mommy/Daddy announce that it is time to start getting ready for bed.

2. Robby suddenly remembers 14 or 15 urgent tasks that must be completed before bedtime preparations can begin. Much bargaining ensues.

3. PJ/teeth brushing time

4. Last minute wrestling and/or chase games are held between Robby and Daddy

5. One last potty break

6. Story time. Always a Curious George book, though we do vary on which one will be chosen

7. Prayer time and song time. Robby normally requests a minimum of five songs. We bargain this down to three. The following three songs are always chosen of late and in this exact order:

A. Jesus Loves Me --the standard

B. Jesus Loves the Little Children --a true classic

C. Life is a Highway (as prominently featured in Cars) -- recently featured in Parents magazine as one of the top lullabies of all time. .....or not.

Happy 1st Birthday Juliet!!

Juliet, you have finally made it. You are officially one year old. This year has been a huge blessing, and I cannot tell you how happy you have made us.

I love you so much.

I love your beautiful smile more than I love my first cup of hot tea in the morning.

I love your sweet snuggles more than I love homemade chocolate chip cookies OR brownies.

I love your infectious laugh more than I love sleeping in as late as I want.

I love your slightly mischevious nature more than I love shopping for a new pair of shoes.

I love your inquisitive personality more than I love curling up with a good book.

I love your modest drama queen tendencies more than I love watching Grey's Anatomy.

I love your wonderful (and not picky!) appetite more than I love even the best Mexican food.

I love your tenacity more than I love solving even the hardest word puzzle.

I love your warm greetings more than I love getting long emails or real mail.

And, it's not just me. You have made our family more complete. Daddy and Robby both love you so much also. We can't wait to see how you will grow over the next year!

Like Father, Like Son

Recent breakfast conversation with Bryan:

Bryan: The key to successful entrepreneurship is finding a product or service that you can offer that costs you less than what other people are willing to pay.

Amy: Mmmm hmmmm. What's amazing is your ability to find those things.

Bryan: Are you kidding me? It's simple--you just always have to be on the look out and to be ready to jump on ideas when you have them. Of course, it's always very important to carefully research the idea and put facts and figures on paper before you start something.

Amy: Oh, completely. Yeah. Man, this Chick-fil-A chicken biscuit is awesome.

Bryan: I guess. Sometimes eating is such a chore though.

Amy simply makes a face that is a mixture of disbelief and resignation.

-- End scene --

Recent dinner experience with Robby:

Mommy: Robby, you simply have to eat something. Food is what gives us energy and helps us to grow big. And, pizza is yummy.

Robby: Noooooooo. I don't want to.

Mommy: Just a few bites. You got to make the pizza all by yourself. So fun!

Robby: I don't wanna eat.

Before Mommy knows it, Robby has sprinted from the table and comes back with a calculator and proceeds to just crunch some numbers. While she doesn't read three year old writing very well, she's pretty sure it's a basic workup of the numbers for Robby's first venture--a pizza stand at the daycare.

Robby, thinking to himself: Let's see, average food haul per day would be one poptart, three pizzas, and six chicken nuggets.... that should be good for at least three or four glasses of milk, a dump truck, and some sweet markers. Now, I just have to figure out how to smuggle the food into school without the parentals noticing that I'm not eating it.

A Family Portrait

How I Managed to Fight the Rainy Day Blues

1. Lunch at Chick-fil-a complete with romping time in the play area and a milkshake shared with Daddy. Check.

2. Special adventure with Mommy and tah to see Curious George Live. Check.

3. Skipping nap as unnecessary waste of daylight hours. Check.

4. Sweet rain boots. Check

5. Capture and successful commandeering of mom's new umbrella. Check

6. Making Mommy's heart work overtime due to the mixture of pride, love, and fierce protectiveness at the sight of my independence and grown up behavior. Check.

It's Fall . . . Right?

My thermometer may give no indication of it being fall, but my kitchen says otherwise. Last weekend we made our first batch of chili for the season, and tonight we are ushering in this marvelous time of year with our favorite homemade pumpkin pie. Mmmmmmm. My tummy is glad that fall is here even if my pants aren't. :)

Things You Never Thought You'd Say

From the Sloan Files of Things We Never Thought We'd Say:

"Don't rub it in sweetie. It's not lotion . . . It's tomato sauce."

Happy Birthday . . . er, Happy 11 Months Juliet!

This month marks my last month of celebrating Juliet's monthly milestones rather than her yearly ones. She turned 11 months old last week. So, naturally, we had her 1st birthday party last Saturday. What?? The girl is advanced; that's all I can say.

Actually, we had her baby dedication at our church this Saturday, so we just decided to have one big bash. It was an extremely special day. My maternal grandmother flew in from California for the occasion, and it was her first time to meet Juliet, which was so wonderful. We had great representation of family from both sides, and it meant the world to us everyone who was able for the tea party and then the service afterwards.

Getting the stage set

The tea party spread

Birthday cake, petit fours, blueberry scones, and the awesome flowers my grandmother arranged

The birthday girl makes her grand entrance

My favorite pic from the photo session with Nana

Outfit change 1: down to diaper for the cake! She just dug her face right in and stuck with it for at least 15 straight seconds. It was awesome!

Sharing her goods with Daddy

Opening presents is so fun!

Robby scored a couple of presents himself :)

We have now made it to the dedication service. Our pastor is praying for the family. As you can see, both children were really attuned to the prayer.

The whole family! What a blessing to have such wonderful support as we raise our children.

Hamming it up for Nana's camera!

You Know It's Time to Call it a Night When

the following two things occur simultaneously:

1. You spend over 20 minutes looking for the lid to the Greek yogurt, which involves multiple rummages through the trashes and scouring both the garage and fridge before realizing that the peel-off foil you trashed was the only the lid that came with the yogurt after all.

2. You realize that the strange sound you have been listening to throughout the entire hunt for the nonexistent lid is your cat who has locked himself in your childproofed kitchen cupboard for who knows how long.

Yup, folks, bedtime it is for this tired lady.

For Robby - A Happy Birthday Tale

One of the greatest blessings for me this year has been to see Robby blossom into someone who loves books and loves to read. So, for his third birthday post, I decided to write him a story about my favorite little boy in the whole world.

On the day God made Robby, he was so tiny that God decided to give him a very safe and warm place where he could begin to grow. The place God put him was in Mommy's tummy!

Robby liked it there very much. He liked it so much that when it was time for him to leave Mommy's tummy and to move into Mommy and Daddy's house, he decided that he did not want to leave. Mommy had a doctor come help her, and after many hours, they were able to convince Robby to be born.

Here is a picture of what Robby looked like right after he was first born!

Once Robby was born, he came to live at his mommy and daddy's house where he had a room and bed of his own. At first he was so little that he spent every day just eating and sleeping. He was so little that he could not walk or talk or even sit up by himself!

But, the milk that Robby was drinking helped him to begin to grow and get bigger. By the time Robby had his first birthday, he had learned to sit up, to stand up, to walk, and even to say a few words. He was still pretty little though.

After Robby turned one he started changing from a baby to a little boy. Each day he amazed his mommy and daddy with all the new things he learned how to do.

Robby started eating the same foods as Mommy and Daddy and started drinking milk in a big boy cup. He learned how to run really fast and jump really high. He learned how to golf and how to climb all over the jungle gym at the park. He started playing with choo choo trains and learned that he loved the movie Cars.

Before he knew it, a whole year had passed, and Robby got to celebrate his second birthday!


The biggest thing that happened the year after Robby turned two was that he became a big brother. Just a couple months after Robby turned two, Mommy and Daddy brought home a little sister for Robby. They named her Juliet. Robby is a very good big brother, and he does a great job helping to take care of Juliet.

Robby continued to grow and become an even bigger boy after he turned two. He learned how to use the potty and stopped having to wear diapers. He also got to start sleeping in a big boy bed instead of the crib he slept in when he was little.


While Robby continues to like Cars and trains and playing golf and playing at the park, he added some new favorites to his life as well. Robby learned to love Curious George and swimming and Toy Story.


Time flies when hanging out with Robby, and it's crazy, but he has now had a whole year pass since his second birthday. Now Robby is three. We can't wait to see how Robby continues to grow and get bigger this year. Before we know it, Robby will turn four and will able to run even faster and jump even higher.

I am so glad that I get to be Robby's mommy because he is my favorite little boy in the whole world.