Updated page for Jon.
White template, nothing fancy.

the wind is really picking up

You can see the bottoms of the leaves as they begin to curl up, regardless of the rain and sunshine.

* * * * * *

Belinda is sitting here telling me about a girl she is drawing:
"her floor is messy. And she gets the hiccups every night.
She's fretending she has a purple mask on and she has to take it off.
It's purple like blueberries. I ripped it out for you."
She really does say "fretending" instead of "pretending,"
"wase" instead of "vase"
"Doesn't she look nice? She has a melance (?) of hairs.
She has diamonds on her dress."

I am busy enough with school. I get to translate, diagram, and grammatically analyze the books of Ruth and Ephesians this semester, among other things. It's very nice to be able to ... [interruption]

"This is Haybee Abee Abee [her affectionate term for Sammy] when he is bigger. He has girl hair."

What is she talking about?

"Here is his dress."

"Belinda, Sammy won't a dress when he's bigger. He'll wear a suit and pants!"

"I put a flower on his dress. [singing] Mounce of Tiggers, Mounce of Tiggers, Mowance of Tiggers"

I have no idea what's going on here.

* * * * * *

Leigh is driving back from Jersey, from a management meeting. Every now and then we send each other sounds and pictures on our phones. She'll be home soon, and we'll all have dinner together. Having family time in the evenings has been great.

"This is a picture of Plumpy the Chicken. Does Plumpy the Chicken have girl hair? I'm making him hair. That's Donna's bad dream. It's a fingernail. It was walking and talking and walking and talking and knocking on the door. Do you want another bad dream? I can draw any bad dream you want." Donna is our cockateel.

I'm not making this up -- I'm taking dictation in real-time.

"There's her eye-laces. That girl has girl pants. You like them wearing lipstick? Wait! Time for chubby time Haybee Abee Abee. That girl is meeeeeeeean. That girl is meeeeeeean. After she was sad, she became a mean lady with girl pants on! And then she didn't have shoes any more because she was mean. She has boots. Mean people need boots. She has overalls on. And she came with no berrettes in her hair. Mean people don't have barettes in their hair. She is wearing exercise clothes. I'm going to make Saybee [Sammy again] a beautiful playground. That's Miss Carrie's house."

Say hello to Mr. Mom. Yes, Jon is hanging up the hardhat, badge and workboots up for good. Now there should be more time for study AND more importantly time to hang out with the family. It's been a little difficult over the last few years for me (Jon) to be in school most of the morning, come home to see the family for an hour or two, then head off to work (which was sometimes dangerous) until 11:00 PM, and then come home to study until ??:?? AM. But we did it.


I don't have any idea why I did that effect to the hard hat. I guess I was too excited.

Now Mr. Mom is learning how to do all kinds of things -- change poop diapers, not shrink the laundry, etc. And a real favorite has been making breads from scratch. Like this sourdough pizza crust, which was the best one yet.


Leigh is enjoying her new job at Macy*s. She's doing the things she likes to do -- touch makeup and talk to people.
She gets nice long breaks and works with nice people. And she gets to dress up. And nobody there has coming screaming and running to her because someone was looking at their toys. Not yet.

By the way, I did effects on this picture on purpose.

It's nice that we can do things together in the evening now. For an example, see below:





By the way, it's the Centennial Park, not the Bicentennial Park. I was previously unsure, because the sign is hidden by shrubs.

In this picture, I wanted to get all of their faces in the holes at the same time. That didn't work, as you can see. And when they're old enough to follow my directions they probably won't be as cute. Maybe.

FLASHBACK

This is from when Belinda was little. We were living in our bungalow in West Virginia. Those times were sweet. But we knew we had to move on and do other things, just like a baby girl knows she has to grow up and do more things.


Today we had the kids measured and weighed. Sammy weighs about 23 pounds, and I think they said he is 31 inches long. Belinda weighs about 32 pounds and is 39 inches long. They had to get their fingers pricked to check their iron levels. Belinda was making wild animal faces at the nurse, but seemed to cheer up at the sight of bandage. She doesn't want to go back to the doctor again.
Sammy, on the other hand, didn't care what they did as long as he got to make a mess. He managed to smear the tiny, tiny drop of blood on his fingertip all over his thigh somehow. When we finally got the bandage on, he loved it. Then we found it floating in his mouth a couple of minutes later. He is a biohazard.

Next I want to put up pictures that Belinda has colored of thirsty people, of pregnant people, and of gorgeous princesses. Then I will put up pictures of Leigh going to her new job. Yes, she is going to slow down (has already slowed down) on all her part-time pursuits. She is now going to manage the Estee Lauder store in Macy*s, and we think she's going to have a lot of fun. We were talking about it: she's been either pregnant or nursing for the last 4 years. She hasn't worked formally for 4 years. Instead, she's been doing the much more demanding job of HouseWife (quite possibly the most psychotic job on the planet besides that of Roach Trainer). The good news is that we will all be able to spend more time together as a family. We like that.

CRAYON SHAVINGS

Belinda colors so much now. A couple of hours every day at least. When she gets tired of coloring with them, she likes to sharpen them.

FALLEN BALLERINA

Back at Q-Mart (Quakertown Farmer's Market). It's nice to buy your children COOKIES that are BIGGER than their HEADS.


Barbie's Tragedy.


Rollerblades. Cup full of acorns.



...and on our best mornings...







You can't bottle up Youth for later, so you might as well use it up when you're young. Parents on the other hand are always bottling up more Old. Why can't we just meet in the middle and rub off on each other. You know, like putting a carton of ice cream in the same bag as a hot lasagna -- they would meet in the middle and just be warm. What would this house be like if we were all "warm" and neither too young or too old? It would be more dull than spit.






Late summer = great walks.


Playdough waffles anyone?