Snow, snow, go away

Two weeks ago, there was NO snow on the ground here in lovely Hoth.  The sun was shining, pigeons were cooing, and then...BLAM!...Mother Nature remembered we're supposed to be in the middle of winter and rectified the situation with a series of storms that have caused much whining in the Alfred household because it meant that the boys have had to....GASP!...work/shovel the driveway/sidewalk. 

Back when the first storm hit, we took some time to enjoy the local tradition of using Old Main Hill for winter activities before settling in for serious shoveling:

Elijah is like me when it comes to winter activities.  He seems to have an inherent grasp of physics and realizes that sitting on a slippery object and pushing yourself down a steep, snow-covered hill will probably result in injuries (see sign).  He tried it a time or two, and then came to an important realization:  when you get to the bottom of the snow-covered hill, there's only one way back up...and it involves a lot of huffing and puffing.  (Final score:  winter activities:  0, pragmatism:  2)  Elijah went down a few times and then found a mud puddle (yes, even in winter) to make "orcs."

Ethan, on the other hand, is the daredevil of the family.  He sledded with such intensity that HE BROKE HIS SLED.  Also, he freaked Gabriel right out.  There were a ton of people (read that, indestructible teenagers) on the hill and Gabriel didn't care when THEY went down the hill.  BUT...when ETHAN went down the hill...he had a little meltdown of fear.  Every time.

Note:  this is the snow AFTER most of the first storm had melted but BEFORE the two following storms hit

GAH.  It's a shame snow is so monochromatic.  It really makes it hard to see the snow forts the boys built for defense during their Ultimate Snowball Fight...which, of course, quickly degenerated into the Ultimate Shouting Match Wherein Everyone is Apparently a Cheater.  Good times, good times. 

In non-weather related news, for those of you who haven't heard, we're still waiting to hear the final verdict on where Jon has been accepted into a PhD program.  Texas A&M and the University of Tennessee are off the list, but we're still waiting to hear from THE Ohio State and Kansas State.  According to various breaking news sites for nail-biting grad students, if you haven't received rejection letters from THE Ohio State at this point, you're on their short list and they're fighting over funding decisions.  This is fabulous news because Ohio State is a Big 10 school.  Meaning:  AWESOME school with GREAT history program, especially in his area of specialization.  Not to mention that we would have family (Lisa!) less than two hours away.  Fingers crossed, perpetual prayer, all that good stuff.  My daily mail routine now includes a brief "please let there NOT be anything in it" shout out to the Powers That Be, because no news is good news at this point, but hopefully we'll know by mid-March. 

We'll keep you posted.

Godzilla, Linus, and other houseguests

This is me, coming up for a breath of non-vomit-tinged air.  I'm trying to make the most of my fifteen minutes of feeling slightly better than usual, but I'm worried I've jinxed it by trying to do something completely unnecessary, since last night's bout of "morning" [HA!] sickness came immediately AFTER I took the meds that generally help me function the next day.  Grrr.  I should be doing the dishes while I can.  I'm not worried about the laundry that needs folding...somehow, that always manages to disappear on its own.

Anyhoo, here's the newest Alfred dirt (Ethan is going to LOVE this):

Ethan is entering puberty. Saying that someone is "entering" puberty is an understatement along the lines of "Godzilla strolled through Tokyo."  What we need is a verb that somehow manages to convey destruction, mayhem, and emotional desolation.  Actually, the Godzilla analogy is pretty accurate, especially if you're watching an emo version of Godzilla. (Actual dialog:  "Tokyo hates me!  My life sucks!  I'm going to stomp around and throw things until someone tells me I am loved, and I still won't believe them!")

Fortunately, this all started about the time that the school had the annual "Maturation Seminar" to help us idiot parents (phrase borrowed from our loving offspring) remember what it's like to be pre/pubescent.  Personally, I don't remember being so...dramatic, although I'm sure my parents (who had six daughters and a son) lived on a nightmare emotional roller coaster from 1986 until...oh, 2008.  Sorry, Mom and Dad.  At any rate, I always assumed that really great emotional firestorms were monopolized by GIRLS.  I was WRONG.   Thank heavens for the brain development portion of the maturation seminar, wherein we learned that Ethan isn't an ungrateful monster, he's just trying to process information using a misfiring brain whilst under the influence of an uncontrolled flood of hormones.  What a relief.  Now, if we can just survive until his brain starts working again...at which point HE will probably be sitting in a maturation seminar with HIS kid, trying to get him to stop giggling at the pictures.  Smirk.   I'm starting to figure out that 1) my parents have always been freaking geniuses and 2) by the time our kids come to the same realization, I won't care about being right anymore.  I won't have the energy for it.

Speaking of growing up before his parents are ready for it, Jon and I moved Gabriel into a toddler bed.  To be accurate, Jon moved Gabriel into a toddler bed; I mostly sat pathetically in a chair holding pieces more or less in place, moaning, with my tongue lolling out the side of my mouth (really) while Jon cursed bad design and materials.  The end results of this are a nifty sleigh bed of questionable quality that Gabriel loves AND a toddler whacking me on the face at 2:30 AM to crawl into bed with us.  He does this while dragging his blue blanket behind him EXACTLY like Linus does.  Cuteness:  his one survival skill. 

What of Elijah and Jon, you ask?  Mostly they try not to do anything to set Ethan and me off..because let's be realistic...pregnant women are probably about as much fun to be around as teenagers.  They'll both deserve sainthood by August.

Peace. 
(with any luck!)

Christmas cheer...a little late

I'm Batman.

  And I have a drug problem.

Fortunately, I have the support of my cousins....

And brothers....

(who don't get too mad when I mess with their birthday presents)

And some more cousins and grandparents....

Although my mom has been somewhat useless lately, 

mostly complaining about smells and how she wishes she could just throw up already

Thank heavens for Dad, who is the only reason I have clean bottles or pajamas these days...

 

Dad says that eventually my teeth will come in and I'll stop drooling like a faucet and screaming in pain at two in the morning, which sounds pretty good.  In the meantime,  remember that in addition to being ridiculously cute like my brothers, I really like dogs.

Haxxoz part duex!

Once again I, the wonder Jon, have haxxed my wife blog.


Is there a purpose to this? Is it just to be a mean cyber bully? to see what she does and stalk her until she does my will...

No, no, it is none of these. Rather, I just wanted the blogosphere to know:

I am married to the most wonderful person in the world. 

Meegan is the best Wife, Friend, Mother and Support that God has or will ever create

Love you baby!

MWAH HA HA HA

Jon found this, and I found it hysterical and thought, "I MUST SHARE THAT!!!!"



Special recognition goes to Elizabeth, my newest in-law, for NOT being one of these Provo girls.  I'm proud to call you family!

An ode to my mom

My mom has a great eye for decorating.  She ALSO has the disgusting ability to skillfully execute her ideas...at least, it's disgusting to those of us still trying (and failing) to tie bows that don't come out looking like snarls.

(Explanation of the bow irritation:  I'm in charge of the PTA bulletin board at school, and it took me FOREVER to tie a bow for the present on the Christmas board...and in the end it was mostly just stapled to ***look*** like a bow.  But I digress.)

Back on track.  I didn't inherit Mom's mad skills.  I can't arrange flowers or decorate cakes, and I DEFINITELY can't tie a decorative bow.  I didn't get her cute nose and perfect toes, either..curse you, FrankenToes!!!!

Looking on the bright side, however, the list of stuff I do have includes--and this is a huge relief--a Christmas tree without a spider infestation.

So life's pretty good.  We decorated the tree tonight.  I think I stress too much about things that aren't very important.  For example, I'm kinda bothered that our tree clearly illustrates the theme, "A Toddler Lives Here," as seen below:

If you look carefully, you can CLEARLY see just how far Gabriel can reach.  For those of you who can't, here's a helpful photo edit (please note the tree is currently bow-free.  I haven't finished wrestling with the new blue and silver snarls.  I mean bows):

We didn't even finish decorating before I gave up on the pipe dream that I would be able to keep Gabriel away from the shiny stuff.  But now that I've had time to bemoan my tree (yeah...shallow), I've decided that I would far rather have a toddler-friendly (if slightly goofy-looking) tree and a Gabriel than a beautiful tree with no Gabriel.  So things balance out.  Besides, it's not just Gabriel who wreaks havoc on our Christmas decorations. For example:

It's a Jurassic Christmas!

Those poor villagers...MWAH HA HA HA HA!

In other news, Jon and I have taken to torturing the boys, at least to hear them tell it.  OH YEAH!  It's all part of our intricate plot to lighten Santa's payload this year:

I only WISH that was a staged picture...they were literally bracing themselves to choke down dinner.  Granted, it was tomato soup, but still...har har har, you're welcome!

To sum things up:

1.  Mom, you are amazingly talented.  Also, thanks for being so patient with all of us Tree Destroyers, as I'm sure this isn't a unique occurrence.

2.  Living with little boys is hysterical.  You just have to take Ferris Bueller's advice:  life moves pretty fast.  If you don't stop to look around once in a while, you could miss it.

Brothers don't shake hands....brothers run around and scream

Trust me, the camera DIDN'T do justice to the level of noise they were producing.  But they were happy and, with any luck, helping Gabriel burn some energy so he'll go to bed before midnight.  Most importantly, they are proof that it's possible to have healthy and happy blended families.

Peace out!


PS--You know what's a pleasant surprise?  Turning around to yell at some weirdo lady messing with your baby in the check out line at WalMart, only to find out it was Maggie/Kat.  I have family in Logan--YAY!!!!