Never a Dull Moment With Brenda

A couple weeks ago my gaggle of geese and I got to go up to the Air Force Academy with my parents and youngest siblings and go see all the retired airplanes that have so much in common with my Dad. It was mighty fun! But then we drove down to see the chapel and learned what fun REALLY is!

My dear sweet sister, Bren: "What's that big round building next to it?"
Mom: "That's the observatory!"
Bren: "OH! So that's where they like... watch and MAKE SURE you got married!"

Fireworks

Remember way back when we were all little and could lay around memorial park and watch the fireworks falling and get little embers falling on your face and there was no band?! You could smell the gunpowder and hear the fireworks crackling and all the little sighs of people saying their "oohs" and "ahhs." I used to lay there and think how super romantic to cuddle up with my darling someday and watch the fireworks go off. It was so other-worldly and beautiful.

And then all of the sudden one year, the Soussa marches started and instead of waiting in breathless anticipation for the next firework and being suprised and charmed, they started going off exactly when the cymbals did and in strict accordance to 4/4 time.

Sometimes the prettiest music is just around you. Not something contrived and superimposed upon your ears as loudly and brashly and oompa-loompa-y as possible. If you want music during fireworks, really, wouldn't it be someone softly singing your favorite song in your ear after the last one goes off and you've had a few moments of silently just enjoying being exactly where you are.

I know a LOT of people really like the band. I'm not asking to go back. It just kind of ruined for me. So I'll let you all snuggle under the colorful burning falling stars and make your wishes and dream your dreams. ...if you can think through all the noise.

And while things change and I don't want to go watch them near the band, I'm not bitter. My house, in all its beautiful perfect-for-me-ness overlooks the entire mountain range and I'll get to see all the displays from it. And instead of silently dreaming of the future, I'll stand there with it holding my hand and resting it's head on my shoulder and squealing about how pretty it all is and then come in and hum their favorite songs into their perfect little ears and lay their dozy-headed little selves into bed and sit outside their doors listening to my favorite post fire-work silences ever. Them SLEEPING.

Don't Worry. Be Baja.

Ian and I sat down to lunch today to enjoy my favorite breakfast... Baja salsa. (www.bajasalsa.com)
The following conversation ensued:

Ian: "are you going to eat that whole thing today?!"
Me: "I guess! I didn't mean to. I just kind of felt led.
Oh that reminds me! We should go to the baja salsa store and see if we can't get it in gallons!"
Ian: "are you sure you'd want to deal with a whole gallon of it?"
Me: "um.... yep."
Ian: "Yeah, but still, where would put it?"
Me: (motions to belly) "...duh."

If any of you want to know what to get me for my upcoming day-of-my-birth, consider this a monsterous hint.

Silent Screams

Hank and I were born with an affinity for non-verbal communication. That kid and I can communicate, negotiate, and completely convey pretty much everything we need to without a single word. (don't take this to mean we're not loud. We get scolded for our rambunctious onomatopoeia on a daily basis)

Clark and Ian were both born with an affinity for a wee bit o' drama. And are both rather loud and temPESTuous. But Clark really wants to get in on this whole non-verbal thing.

So this morning when I told him to go pee so we could have some breakfast, he silently went through his usually noisy routine and thrashed his legs about, pretended his leg was falling asleep, pretended his neck was hurting, pretended he couldn't walk and staggered like a drunken sailor the whole way to the bathroom.

I would have furrowed my eyebrows and shaken my head in the same way that usually means discipline is imminent unless the behaviour quickly stops, but if I had moved my hand from my mouth or looked back in that direction, I would have burst out silently laughing and non-verbally condoned the behaviour.

Atilla the... Huh?

Someday, I promise I'll post something about the kids again.

In the meantime... meet the newest...

"Atilla the...huh?"

I think it's pretty obvious who I patterned him after.

I mean... just check out those muscles!

Super Awesome Crochet Action Figure

So... you all know Sam? The awesome? 'Scuse me... THE awesome?

Well.... once upon a time, this conversation ensued:

Susie: I was wondering... Are there shirts out there that intentionally make the sleeves smaller so your muscles look bigger? Do you have mom take them in? Do you buy your shirts small or... are your muscles actually so big that your poor sleeves just pray they make it through the evening?

Sam: its actually a secret technique taught to me by an ancient head hunter named muga muga, who instructed me in the ways of shrinking heads, i then took that knowledge and used it in the discipline of shrinking sleeves. after many minutes spent mastering this art i have finally been able to make a extra medium shirt fit like a extra small in the arms. yea for cannibal head hunters!

His response was so brilliant that I couldn't stop laughing for days... weeks? how long has it been now. I'm still laughing.

So... I had to make a Muga muga.

He is rather vain about his muscles. He's even called them "the ladies" and given one a kiss.


Modesty being a good thing, his beloved "Grand-muga" (my own dear mother) decided to make him a shirt. ....size extra medium of course.
And since he was an individual lacking anything resembling "couth," she invited him to tea.


It was pretty nice. Man. But man. You know he wouldn't do it for anyone but you man.


Later he impressed us all with a demonstration of his awesome mucles. And curled a few dolls who were having the tea party with us. ...calling them his 'dumbells.' So much for giving him any social graces.


One can only take so much tea, man. So he went off to watch some MMA.


What an awesome Grandmuga to get his personality so much as to make him such an awesome muscle shirt, man!

Should I be a little afraid that he is Hank's absolute favorite doll she's ever seen? Just seeing the pictures today made her start shouting, pointing and screaching MUGA MUGA MUGA!
Can't really blame her. The second I saw Ian's gigantic muscles, I couldn't think of anything else, man.

Why?

I wouldn't change a single thing about her and she is designed perfectly to specifications and lovingly created. So... I'm not questioning the design or anything.

But every once in awhile, I do kind of wonder why oh WHY is Hank's arm just long enough to reach out and grab my nose while nursing? No matter how I try to move my head away, that little grabbin' Han is just right there.
I also question why the baby has such strength that once she has my nose, I can't wrench it from her grasp. And while we're asking questions... why does she think it's so ridiculously funny!?

Not among my questions: "am I making enough milk?" They say you can tell by looking at the corners of a baby's mouth to see if she is getting anything. With Han, you just make her laugh and see if any comes out her nose.