New Tricks

Okay, here's the deal. As a writing assignment, I show my oldest daughter how to create a blog. I get her all set up then step out the door to run a few errands. I come back a little over an hour later and she's got her blog up and running with several posts and pictures--pictures! Man, I'm feeling really old at the moment. So, dear daughter shows Mom how to do pictures, change colors, etc. I didn't think I was that far behind the times. I guess I am.

Dear Daughter (dd) wanted me to upload this picture of youngest daughter. It's not the best shot, but it does capture the true essence of Little Terror (sometimes I call her Demon Child, Your Father's Child, Booger, or, most often, Squirt). Every picture of Little Terror has some comical aspect to it. I'm glad that years ago I gave up on wanting every picture of my children to be perfect (not so much perfect as un-perfect). This is the child, that in nearly every family photo I've taken, has some sort of look on her face, mostly something unflattering. But that's her, my little spit fire-firecracker; as sweet as a kitten one moment and as wild as a boar the next. (NO, she did NOT get that from me...I'm as sweet as a kitten ALL the time!)

Why don't we load a few more pictures, now that the world of uploading has been brought to my attention (and I really should be doing housework right now). Let's see what we can find...Okay, here's what happens when you're the only boy admist the Estrogen Ocean: you army crawl around the house with a sniper riffle, knocking off sisters one by one. The Obster (pronounced Obe-stir) is crawling through my bathroom, which goes from my bedroom into the laundry room into the kitchen, or to the downstairs. I had to step over him a few times while doing laundry, as to not compromise his strategic placement. Goofball. Poor, poor boy. He so needs a brother.

Oh, this is fun!! Let's see what else there is to find! Okay, here's another one. Here's Little Terror again. She dressed herself. She's in her long johns and has two hats on her head. What's so funny about her hats is that the black one is one that I bought when I was in the 8th grade (yes, I was once that young). I'd forgotten that was my hat, tucked into the dress-up box, now being worn by my 4 year old. What a cutie.

Here's Kali. I like this picture of her. My camera died before I was able to do many more pics. Shame, shame. And here's her school picture. My how she grows! She's just less than a head shorter than me now.



And here's Kass, my whimsical, creative, little mommy whom I tell to never get married or move away, as I'd have no one to take care of me:

And now, really I must go be responsible....I heard the other day that our actions define us, that by our actions we become known as who we are. As such, I must go, leave the warmth of my flat screen, and whip this ship into order. Responsible, that's me (unfortunately).

But first, just a few more pictures...just a few. Oh look, here's me and my favorite son. And here's the girls after Christmas dinner. Kass is wearing the Christmas dress I made her (the red one). She was born in the wrong era, too. She needed to be a midevil damsel.