Boys and their toys...

This was just too cute not to take pictures. The other day, Timothy brought out his fishing game and asked his daddy to play with him.

Caught one! Moses was very interested in the entire process, as you can see!

"Look, a fish!"

And here he is, brushing his fish's teeth. Yep, not kidding. It's what he does.

On an unrelated note, here's Chris, wearing the hat I knitted for him. He informed me that he loves his hat, particularly because when the hydrolic lift on the back gate of his truck suddenly let go, the hat helped pad his head so it didn't hurt so much. That thing has slammed on me before, and I think it would take more than a hat to keep me from wanting to take a bat to the darned thing!

Big Splash

We've spent a fair amount of time at Big Splash this summer. We got Gabe and Timothy season passes for their birthdays. It's quite a deal to buy them in the winter because regular tickets cost enough that you can buy season passes, go twice and save money. And since they keep changing the policy on who gets in free, we ended up with an extra pass. The website said "under 3", but when we got there to take our pictures for the passes, I was told it was "3 and under". Chris ended up with Timothy's pass, so now we can all go anytime.

My water baby, in the wave pool.

Tormenting Big Brother, as always!

Gabe is such a ham. A very skinny ham, but a ham, nonetheless!

A great way to spend a hot summer afternoon!

Chris has a new hobby...

And Moses has a new tormentor. He doesn't seem to mind all that much, but then again, we are pretty sure Moses is from outer space. I think this was Chris' way of exacting revenge upon a cat who WILL NOT leave my yarn alone. Not the synthetic stuff, no, he never gives that a second glance. It's only when I have really yummy kid mohair or silk and Romney wool that this part of his personality surfaces. Hiding it from him is not an option, since he knows how to open doors and unzip zippers. Chris has this theory that if we wear him out enough, he'll just sleep and night and not destroy stuff. So here you go. Cowboy Moses.

Next, we have Corporate Climber Moses. He's tired from a hard day at the office.

Chris, I would watch my back, if I were you. I think Moses has figured out how to use the camera. You know that picture of you asleep in Timothy's bed? Yeah, that was ALL him!

These are a few of my favorite dads...

Happy Father's Day! I felt that I should take a moment to write a little tribute to some of the great dads in my life. In no particular order...

My dear, sweet husband, Chris. Here he is, introducing his eldest son to his youngest son.

Next, we have Pawpaw. Here he is, meeting Timothy for the first time.

Here's my own wonderful dad, or "Popple", as he is now know. Here, if I recall, he and Timothy were discussing key battles of the Civil War. No, I'm not kidding. If you ever wonder about some of the strange things my kids seem to know from a young age...he's your guy.

Here's Grandpa Jasper. Timothy was completely fascinated with him during this particular meal.

Another one of Pawpaw, Timothy and Gabe. I just realized how much Gabe has grown. He looks so little in this picture!

Timothy's favorite place to sleep (then and now!). Chris doesn't seem to mind it much.

Popple and his boys.

Chris and Timothy, as you might recall from previous posts, have birthdays two days apart. Thus, Timothy turned a year old right around the same time Chris turned thirty. There was cake. Lots of cake. There is always lots of cake.

Father's Day 2006.

Chris is wearing the very special apron that Gabe made him for Father's Day. Aren't they cute?

Here are my boys at the petting zoo.

Pawpaw and Gabe, in October of 2006. What a little ham I'm raising!

Here's one from Father's Day last year. Look, I'm on my blog!

Grandpa Jasper and the boys, last summer. These boys love their grandpas!

Chris and Gabe from this year's Pinewood Derby.

There are no pictures of another very dear dad, because Chris' dad, Pop, passed away before we owned a digital camera. It was fun going through all our old picture files, but there are so many more pictures of all these great men in my life. Some of them are in boxes or albums at my mom's house. Some of them exist in my mind alone. I just wanted to take a moment to thank them for all that they do, and all the support they've given me over the last 28 years. They're a wonderful bunch, and I'm sure that someday my sons will grow up to be wonderful dads because of the example these guys have set. When that happens, Gabe has already warned me that I will NOT be allowed to babysit his kids, because I will be sure to spoil them rotten and then send them home. He knows me well.

Are you sitting down?

...Because this announcement is BIG. And shocking. Today...I fixed something! I fixed the washer, to be exact! I admit, when I say "fixed", I mean that Chris walked me through checking the circuit box over the phone, and I figured out that the fuse had tripped the circuit breaker, or whatever it is that happens, and I flipped the switch back, thus "fixing" the washer and garage door opener. Truthfully, I couldn't care less about the garage door opener, but laundry was piling up, and desperation is the mother of invention. Or the mother of nervous break downs.

Undignified...

So many of the others that share my house have no dignity. None, whatsoever. For instance, Moses doesn't seem to mind at all when Timothy makes him wear sunglasses. Cats should have more dignity than that.

Then there's Timothy. He got new shoes and he's very proud of them. So proud, in fact, that he likes to wear them all the time. Even if he's not wearing anything else. To be honest, you can't really expect him to have much dignity. He's only three, after all.

Sometimes, however, I can't help but think he's doing it on purpose. Like last week, when he showed up wearing my shoes and socks. The socks kind of look like lederhosen, don't they? Or possibly furry legs.

This is Moses lying on my bed. I don't want to know how he ended up like this. But I'm sure however it happened, it was undignified.

Here's another undignified tummy. This is Miss Mouse. She's experiencing some psychological problems and is pulling out her hair. I saw a special on this disorder on 20/20 and made her watch it, hoping to help her realize that she has a problem. It didn't work. Our vet suggested kitty prozac. He also suggested that might be more trouble than it's worth, since she doesn't seem to mind being bald. Oh, and if you're wondering, she's on top of my pattern book and yarn on my lap. This is why I'm so slow at crochet and knit projects.

Finally, as undignified tummies go, this one takes the cake. Chris was supposed to be overseeing Timothy's attempts to pick up his room before bed. It seemed like it was taking a REALLY long time, so I went to investigate. This is what I found. Remarkably, the room was clean and Timothy was playing happily.

If Chris sees this picture of himself on my blog, he's not going to be very happy with me. Please don't tell him it's here!

A brief tribute to my husband...

And it's only brief because, let's face it, I should be doing laundry or de-furring the couch cushions, or some other useful form of housework right now. Chris doesn't get much face-time on my blog, and I'm not really sure why. He's the backbone of my very existence. He can fix almost anything, including me when I break. He's my best friend and my partner in crime. And he did something so unusual, I feel that I must write about it. My husband has spent the last several evenings untangling yarn for my knitting pleasure! Let me 'splain.

Chris has never really approved of my knitting habit. He thinks it's a little weird for someone my age to knit. In his defense, his mom wasn't the "crafting" type. He's come to accept my strangeness in many other areas of life, but we've had to agree to disagree about knitting. This could have something to do with the amount of space my yarn "stash" is taking up in our very small house. One of my recent stash purchases was two coordinating yarns to make myself a fancy shaw. One is a lovely, fine angora, and the other is a soft, synthetic ribbon yarn. I've been dying to get started, but life gets in the way. There are just too many baby gifts I need to be working on! I feel guilt!!! I finally got out both hanks last week to make them into balls so I could get started. The angora fibers kept sticking together, so Chris offered to help me by holding the hank while I rolled the ball. This was breakthrough number one. We finished that ball in record time, and I got out the ribbon yarn. Unfortunately, the stuff is so slippery, I couldn't get it going, and I ended up with all 300 yards of it in one gigantic, knotted mess. If it were up to me, this probably would've gotten put away for "later" and become one of those projects that I won't ever finish, but refuse to throw away. Chris, however, has patiently sat on the couch every evening since and untangled the yarn. After at least ten hours of work on his part, the tangle is down to the last fifteen or so yards, the best I can tell. And he's still working on it, even though he doesn't approve of knitting or yarn, as a rule. THAT is love! And also breakthrough number two. And for the record, this didn't turn out "brief" at all. Thus, proving I am my father's child! Any of you who have every sat through one of his "brief sermons" and have the pressure sores to prove it will know exactly what I mean!