Because I'm such a Geek. That's why!

It's late and I want to go to bed but I had to share this with you all because I'm geeky enough to have spent the last four hours playing with my family super hero photos in my computer programs. I loved this part so much I just couldn't share with everyone. It's part of a larger project I'm working on and I giggled and smiled the whole time I was tinkering with it. Yep. It's official. I'm the biggest dork I know.

Mr. Stethoscope and Me

Once again, I find myself sitting at my computer during the wee hours of the night. I'd love to blame this on insomnia. Because that would mean that it's a personal problem that I have to deal with as an adult fully capable of dealing with problems. The actual reason is always far more challenging. Alex's asthma is the guilty culprit for my lack of sleep. The past few nights have been spent checking on him round the clock. It's just me and my trusty Mr. Stethoscope. I spend these kinds of nights, for the most part, attached to Mr. Stethoscope. We've become good buddies over the years. Sadly, the worst part of viral induced asthma is that it is notorious for rearing it's ugliest head during the night. Annoying, right? My thoughts exactly. This round of cold has somehow become more challenging to his asthma than normal. Strangely enough it wasn't that bad of a cold for us. It just settled in his lungs for some reason. Here lately, his asthma has been controlled with maybe one or two rounds total of his inhaler during any other cold. This time? Yeah...not so much. So I'm ticking away at my keyboard in an attempt to stay awake until his next treatment because the last treatment didn't work as well as it should have. I've become very familiar with the after hours nurses that are kind enough to remind me of proper levels and all the finer details. I have to keep checking on him every fifteen minutes until 4:30 a.m. Only one more hour to go. I suppose it's a good thing that I have silly computer social games to keep me awake when I need them too. Oh well. I suppose that this is the life of a mom with an asthma kid. It's been slowly getting better as he gets older, but we're just not having a good week. Here's hoping that tomorrow night I might get some real sleep. Mama's tired...mentally and physically. Until then...it's been another fifteen minutes. Time for Mr. Stethoscope and I to get back to work.

Life's too short to smile at the camera

Family photos. Everyone does it. At least it seems that way. I've gotten them from nearly every sibling with their families. They sit in front of the camera in carefully placed positions that are optimum to the situation in which they are being photographed. Then they smile for the birdie, click-click-click, print and done. Sure, they look nice. Everyone all gussied up in their finest threads and all primped and proper for the shoot. But it's a bit stagnant if you ask me. Don't get me wrong. I've considered doing this with my family just like everyone else. But as my family will tell you, I've yet to have it done. I have a five year old child and still have yet to get family portraits done to pass out. So recently I've wanted to stick something on my photo wall that is of us and know for certain that there are plenty of family members who want pictures of us as well. Well, the problem with those pose, point and click pictures is that they are fairly boring for the most part. Pretty, yes. But boring. I've seen some very interesting family pictures online on some of those 'fun idea' websites and I thought to myself, "Wouldn't it be fun to have an unconventional picture instead of an ordinary one?" It just so happened that I had an idea for this that I've been tossing around. About a month ago, the kids and I were playing around with all of Alex's super-hero gear. We are all pro-super heroes in this house. Josh took a picture of us and it was fun. Now, the problem with this moment was that the kids were in the pajamas and Josh wasn't in the photo. So I waited patiently for a nice, sunny day to go to my folks house. I enlisted my mom to be our photographer and wa-lah! Our very own photo-shoot commenced. We're kind of a weird family. So we needed a weird family picture session. And I love it!! After some tinkering in GIMP (art program), they turned out fantastic (in my opinion). Totally geeky and 100% us! Conventional family photo, move over! It's time for...

I'm giving this as our family portrait unless I'm threatened under pain of death not to. :)

Battle! This was so much fun! My mom was laughing and so were we. I'm sure their neighbors thought we were nuts. And the cows and horses were going bananas in the pasture.

The boys in battle!

The gals in battle.

Sibling rivalry!

Peace, at last, between the hero siblings!

I love this picture of the hubby and I. I'd be willing to say it's the best one yet of us! Not a bad side-kick for someone with no practice, eh?

And the last shot of the day. This was so much fun and I hope that you all liked it too. If any family is reading this blog and wants any of these, let me know in the comments section or something and I'll put it on a list for what to print. It sure beats a staged smile and point session.

A Long Blog...Just Because

I'm not entirely certain where my original resentment or lack of caring for football began, but I think that I might have a good idea. In school, I was in band. I know, I know. You're probably shocked right now. Jessica?? In band?? But...but...she's so cool. How can that be?? Well, it's true. I played trumpet faithfully and fairly good from 5th grade until I graduated high school. Heck, I'll even go so far as to admit that I enjoyed it. Alot. I thought, like everyone else who can play an instrument, that I was pretty cool. Sure, sure. It's not an electric guitar, but hello? Haven't you ever heard of Dizzy Gillespie? Shoot, I'm probably not helping my 'cool' case right now.

So back to band and football. I grew to despise football in high school. School team pride, I didn't really have. I mean, I clapped when it was expected of me, but I didn't really mean it. I vividly remember band during football season. Who wouldn't remember being drug to the bitter cold metal stands and forced to blow air into an icy metal instrument whenever the band instructor so deemed necessary. (which was often of course.) But really it was the half time show that made me hold that ire that stuck with me so well. Hours of practice and marching, marching, marching in attempt to put on this awesome show where you not only march in complex formations but also do so while playing songs that you either memorize or read off of miniscule paper six inches in front of your face. You finish the show that you think is, well, pretty dang impressive and wait for the applause only to discover that about three people in the stands actually care enough to bring their hands together to clap four times. Pity claps. Ugh.

So this is about the time the crowd starts going bananas and you think, "Oh! Delayed applause! Yay for band!" No, no, no. The cheerleaders come on the field. Naturally. Suddenly the claps make sense and you roll your eyes and sneer at them beneath your hideous, feathered hat. So begins that epic battle between the cheerleaders and the band. While secretly, you wonder if the band wore too-short skirts and donned pom-poms if it would change anything. Of course, I never understood it, myself. Don't they say that a person in uniform is hot? Not like, 'Wow...I'm sweating like a pig in this thing' hot. But rather, 'Holy cow...would you look at them rockin' those uniforms,' kind of hot. Before I actually wore the uniform (pre high school), I thought that people watched the band go by and talk about how neat and snazzy they looked all geared up for the performance. Turns out that once you put the uniform on you realize that those whispers you heard weren't compliments but people attempting to hush their pity and laughter. Suddenly, you realize that the 150 year old hand-me-down uniforms weren't supposed to be yellow and orange but rather red and white. You begin to notice an obvious odor that permeates your very skin. You realize that it must be the embalming fluid they used to continue to preserve the uniforms for the next unlucky people dumb enough to think they were cool.* Of course, we got new uniforms two years before I graduated, but still. But no matter how hard we worked to impress the public, it was all about the football players and those blasted cheerleaders. It was all, "Yay football players! Yay cheerleaders!" and "Booo band!" *sigh*So band led me to despise football. I promised myself secretly that I would never support that blasted sport, despite the practical religious status it holds in America.

So here I am. Married. Kids. Two out of four people in the house loves football in a creepy obsession kind of way. Over the last year, I've started to pick up some clues, but still didn't really ever plan on watching any games. I remained true to my own self-established rule that I MUST NOT LIKE FOOTBALL. So I say this next part with a sheepish grin on my face. My son has asked me time and time again what team is my favorite. I never really have had an answer. A few weeks ago I realized that I really liked Drew Brees and Tim Tebow. The more I learned about them and watched them, I...I...enjoyed it. What?!? How did that happen? So I told Alex that I picked my team. I like the Saints...and the Broncos. (No judging, now.) Somehow...something began to slowly happen that I still won't admit to my husband. I've been watching games out of the corner of my eye from time to time. Slowly beginning to understand things they say instead of hearing naught but a bunch of mumbo-jumbo going in one ear and out the other. Honestly I didn't realize I was doing this until tonight. I was watching the Saints game. I mean really watching it. Suddenly Darren Sproles is runnining to make a touchdown and I found myself moving off of the couch in excitement. I physically floated out of my body as this was happening and watched as my butt physically left the couch, though ever so slightly, in actual excitement upon the touchdown. Naturally, I smacked myself in the head and stopped my moment of unnatural joy in mid jump and tried to pretend it never happened. I felt a sharp jab of betrayal to my self and my seemingly undying devotion to hating football.

So here I sit...admitting something that I fought for so long. I...*gulp*...enjoy football. I don't know how it happened! I blame my five-year old son and his adorable enthusiasm for the sport. Of course, I'm fairly certain that no one that would openly mock me for my sudden interest in this sport actually reads this blog so I feel safe admitting it in writing. I still don't plan on telling my husband because I've made fun of him for his love of football for so long. He'd never let me hear the end of it. Will I one day be one of those people sporting my Tim Tebow and Drew Brees jerseys on game days? Who knows. Until then...it's our little secret, okay?


*The band uniforms weren't actually 150 years old and I don't believe they used embalming fluid. But you never know...

It's Been Awhile

When it comes to epic failures, I have them covered when it's regarding the world of blogging. My Aunt Rhonnie will be the first to tell you that. Ain't that right Aunt Rhonnie? I'm failing at keeping consistent posts going and when it comes to those cute little pictures I used to post quite frequently, I am slacking greatly. Anyhow...in a desperate attempt to appear as though I'm at least trying to keep things mildly updated I am actually posting a good ol' fashioned photo post. Though the pictures are really from the last few months, it's somewhere to start. I still haven't done a Christmas picture post either. Wow...epic fail at it's finest! At this rate, I should have last Christmas photos up by Easter. Enjoy!

Me and Abby sporting some braids. We really do look like we have the same hair color, don't we? Though I must admit that my nose is looking particularly large in this photo.

Captain America and Bucky - too cute! Great movie though.

Leaves!!

Oddly enough, one of the things that Alex talks about doing at school quite frequently is catching grasshoppers. Of course, they are gone now with the cold, but one day he actually came home with one in his pocket back in the beginning of fall. He held it so tenderly and lovingly all the way home and then he wanted a picture with his grasshopper before he let it go back into the wild. Kids...I love them!

A-d-o-r-a-b-l-e. This was taken on Alex's field trip to the Christmas tree farm.

Alex's buddy, Uncle Ben. The kid just adores him. He just curled up in Uncle Ben's lap like this and hung out for quite awhile while watching TV.

New Years, Fun Times, and an Allergic Mystery

This past weekend we got to go visit Josh's family for New Year's. It was fun to get out of the house for awhile. Especially because the kids love playing with their cousins. Abby's still in her "I need a warm up time before playing" phase but other than that it was good all around. My sister-in-law was actually not working for a change and I got to spend some quality time with her which is always fun. She used to work weekends so whenever we visited I got a whopping three hours of sisterly bonding time. They recently moved to the same city as my Parent-in-laws so it came with a bunch of changes. Not only do we get to see all Josh's family in one visit but it came with new jobs for the sis and bro. New job for Heather (sis-in-law) equals weekends off. Yay for weekend visits! Life for the in-laws is always exciting and ever-changing. Very fun. So the weekend was quite nice. Did I mention that I officially have an awesome Chiropractic doctor for a brother-in-law and that he's super awesome for helping me out? Yeah...well...it's totally true. A week ago I couldn't turn my head/neck very far at all. Today, I can look behind me to see what the kids are getting into without pain shooting every which way. Yeah. He's awesome.

Well, with our fun-filled adventure this past weekend came a mysterious moment that adds to my allergic state of "huh??" I went with my mother-in-law and all the kids to the local duck/goose pond to feed them old loaves of bread. Now, we do this here at home only all of our bread comes from our house which is all milk-free. Not to mention that I guess I shouldn't assume that my five-year-old won't eat the moldy, old, crusty bread that is supposed to feed to the ducks. So there I was, feeding a goose when I look over to see Alex snacking on a piece of bread. Guess what? It had milk in it. Naturally, I freak out. Ok...freak out is a bit extreme. There was no hyperventilating or anything too crazy like that, but I knocked the bread out of his hand and asked him how much he ate. I think he ate about 1/3 of a piece of bread. I ran to get a juice box for him to swallow it down fast so it didn't sit idly in his throat. I whip out my benadryl and ask him how he feels. Guess what now? He felt fine. First let me say this: Thank God! But now let me say this: What the heck?? We just got back from his current milk challenge at the doctor's office where he reacted to a mere sip of milk in less than 15 seconds with a mild anaphylactic reaction. He eats a good chunk of bread with milk in it and nothing? I'm confused - officially. He never needed the medicine but who knows what happened. The milk could have not been present in that particular slice. For now I'm just thankful that it didn't go bad. The doctors are confused because of the severity of his reaction in the office but he's still labeled as deathly allergic. Allergies are so confusing.

So other than the fact that I rang in the New Year completely alone in the dark at my in-laws house because everyone was a bunch of lazy butts and went to bed before midnight, (you all know who you are...just sayin') the weekend was fun and I'm glad that we are blessed with such a wonderful family. So to all my family, no matter what part of the world you are in, I hope your new year is filled with wonderful times and good health. Happy New Year all!

The Un-Studio

I've been drawing for as long as I can remember. Art, whether I like it or not, is part of me. Sometimes I despise the skill, as it frequently proves itself completely and utterly useless. Other times it doesn't seem entirely worthless. Of course, when someone finds out that you can, in fact, draw more than mere stick figures, they find it absolutely fascinating. Strange. If I find out someone can draw I usually am mildly interested. Perhaps that makes me a bad artist. I did, after all, barely pass art history class...all four semesters of them. Ugh. Boooorrrring. Just sayin'. So basically, art happens for me pretty regularly. Someone always needs or wants something. Does this bother me? Nah. It's a skill and I'm happy to help when I can. Here's the problem: Drawing while sitting on an old cushy couch does not equal a happy back...or neck...or knees...or shoulder...and pretty much all in-between. There was a day when I had a snazzy art desk and a nifty chair to help ease this situation. Oh, I still have the desk. Problem is, I don't have a place to put it. Short of sticking it in our over crowded sun/play room, I'm all out of space for a studio. Plus it's freezing in that blasted room! Who can draw with numb fingers, right? Well...actually...I did draw with numb fingers when I worked as a graphic designer years back. No heat for the starving artist. Lucky me. I'm not willing to revisit that moment in my life. So until the day when me and my trusty old art desk can be reunited, I'll be cozy on the couch with my pencil in hand. I've actually been so busy with art lately that I haven't had much time in the evenings to do much else. (Hence my lack of blogging Aunt Rhonnie. :-) I sink into the couch with my stuff, plop on Vampire Diaries (or something of that nature) and sketch away! My brother-in-law has asked for art for his upcoming Chiropractic clinic. So I'm drawing lots of spines. I must say that not many people can say that they've spent an evening watching vampire shows while holding a spine replica in their hand. It's an odd image to see. A bit surreal actually. How fitting. The most fascinating thing about no studio are the kids. They love going into my bedroom and seeing the new things I've drawn. They don't quite grasp the spine images, but they ask about them. The most frustrating thing about no studio? Well...let's just say that my $1.89 per pencil colored pencils have been found scattered around the house. Just a tip: If you spend hours on end drawing something, never leave it sitting at the level of a 5 and 3 year old. Plain white paper on a flat surface and colored pencils equal one unhappy mama. I don't get mad at them...but I do smack myself repetitively in the head as a friendly reminder to put the pencils higher next time.