ode to a father: part 2

I am girl number 4 in my family lineup so by the time I came along, my dad was a seasoned pro.

My dad has done a great many things in his life. He has spent many years as an educator, coach and administrator but has also done everything from farm work to cement work. Because of him, I learned that I am not too good for any job.

I learned all kinds of other things as well. For example, in his infinite wisdom my dad taught me that it is better to be pissed off than pissed on. A statement that my sister Jo learned firsthand during an unfortunate incident when we were in Italy.

I learned the importance of education.

I learned that girls can do anything.

I learned that there is no replacement for hard work.

I learned that you can in fact, get pulled over for speeding while driving a school bus.

I learned the value of reverse psychology through burnt potato chips. (ps-dad, we all still love the burnt chips).

I learned never to say "I wish..." in front of him so as to prompt the old "wish in one hand, sh#* in the other to see which one fills up" saying.

I learned that a father's love for his girls is unconditional...even when they all have poodle perms and braces.

I am lucky enough that my dad is still around to keep teaching me things. And to teach my son things.

Love you dad.

Ode to a father: part 1

Two years ago, you became a father. I won't lie, it took me awhile to adjust to life as a parent. Not you. You were made for this.

You instantly became a teacher, cuddler, catch player, lego builder, loving disciplinarian.

Not surprisingly, he watches everything you do trying to be exactly the same.

Little does he know that he was born that way:) Lucky for me, now there are two people like you in this world.

*pictures from Heather Rae Photography*

Two...

My post will be short today as I'd rather spend the day trying to absorb the fact that my son is two. TWO! We've had a very busy week so more to come later. I love you Tyson:)

Rubber ducky, you're the one...

Our bath time routine goes a little something like this...

Step 1. Line up all toys very precisely on the tub ledge so as to have an audience.

Step 2. Examine all body parts to make sure everything remains intact. Also, scrub belly button with toothbrush. Or face. Or toes. Basically, scrub everything but your teeth.

Step 3. Throw a fit when getting hair/body washed. (I refrained from taking pictures at this point so I could concentrate on the slippery toddler)

Step 4. Watch every last drop go down the drain because you are told you have to get out once the water was gone.

Step 5. Look really adorable.

Take that Martha

Though we got a fantastic deal on these barstools, I've never really liked them. I didn't really want to fork over the cash for new ones so I thought "what would Martha Stewart do? She would refinish them!" (Okay, I can't back that last statement up. I never ask what Martha would do...purely for the fact that the answer would probably be way out of my league and therefor depressing).

So first we took the barstools apart so we could recover the top with this great fabric I found ON SALE! Luckily my sister Jo was around for this part as I shouldn't be allowed to attempt my first try with a staple gun by myself.

Then I painted the legs to better match the top...

and voila! They still could use another coat of paint but honestly, isn't this way better than before? I think the most impressive part of this is the fact that I actually completed a home project. Never in my life have I cared about craft stores or home improvement stores with any kind of enthusiasm. Now I drive a minivan and get excited when my JoAnn's coupons come in the mail. I think motherhood is turning me into a sissy.

Toxic

On of our newest favorite activities is drawing with washable markers. So many times throughout the day I feel a little tug on my pants accompanied by a "play mawkers mama...play mawkers mama! over and over, each time getting exponentially louder. Usually I am happy to appease him because 1-it is something that keeps him occupied and happy and 2-it gives me a chance to do whatever I need to do in the kitchen (the kitchen or dining room is the official land of the markers because of all of the wipeable surfaces). So he draws away and I get to cook dinner: win win.

We are however, having some trouble getting him to limit his drawing to paper and not the table, walls, his clothes...

...or his face. Anyone know if washable markers are toxic to those who ingest them?

We recycle

Every monday afternoon Tyson gets a couple of playmates in the form of our neighbors. Owen is almost exactly a year older than Tyson and Grace is 8. Since the boys don't know much about Hannah Montana and Grace doesn't really get her kicks out of watching the tractors in the field, it can be challenging to come up with activities to keep all age groups entertained. Instead of choosing to enrich their minds with something educational (blah blah blah), I decided to let the kids go wild with some old magazines.

At first, only Grace really understood what was going on.

Then they really started getting into it...

literally...

At this point, their dad showed up to pick up his kids and witnessed this scene.

I wouldn't be too surprised if they found another babysitter.