tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91353592575080202082024-03-04T23:44:06.891-06:00double the laughter and twice the confusionHewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.comBlogger113125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-22653438995170840562013-03-28T21:50:00.000-05:002013-03-28T22:02:07.047-05:00lately<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Okay, I have blogger's guilt. And I am very tired, and coming down with a cold. </div>
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Therefore, I will compromise. I will post pictures and news, but in very brief terms. </div>
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Naomi is six months old!</div>
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She (sometimes) loves the swing!</div>
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Lily and Noah continue to take their posts as Baby Entertainers very seriously.</div>
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I have no idea.</div>
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Although Naomi remains doggedly stationary (she's only rolled over a few times each way) and isn't a steady sitter yet, she is apparently determined to backflip out of her Bumbo...</div>
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We went wild turkey hunting in our backyard! (Successfully!)</div>
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Over spring break, we took Gemma and Grandad to Sea World with us to be our Professional Baby Handlers. The big kids LOVED getting to see Shamu...</div>
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...until he unapologetically soaked us all. I will never forget the look of shock and horror on poor Lily's face! She finally cheered up enough to smile for a picture!</div>
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Naomi's main characteristic is still "happy". </div>
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Mommy and her sweet girl!</div>
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Bounce, bounce, bounce...</div>
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<br />Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-35256086205779668242013-01-20T15:34:00.004-06:002013-01-20T15:39:58.845-06:00Naomi's four month photo bomb<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As usual, it has been way too long since I've posted a blog update... Not that nothing is going on with us--there's plenty going on--but it's things like poopy pants and endless colds and sniffles. And who wants to write about that? But it's time to check in, so I thought I'd update about what the kids are doing these days.<br />
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Lily has gotten through a fairly rough whiny/tantrum/attitude phase and is a sweet and helpful girl these days. She continues to be my "analyzer", constantly asking questions. Only as her memory and comprehension have improved, her questions have gotten more detailed. She tends to ask questions from obscure portions of Disney movies we haven't watched in weeks. And shame on me if I don't happen to remember "Why Aladdin pushed that mean man?" or "Why Rapunzel wants that funny man to go with her?"! She's also obsessed with time and asks several times a day how many minutes or days it will take until __________ . Luckily, she's usually content with a random answer. Lily is a great big sister and is captivated by Naomi. She loves making her laugh and taking care of her blanketing and pacifier-plugging needs. <br />
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Noah is, as always, full to bursting with joy and enthusiasm. He is inquisitive and thoughtful, and he loves entertaining Naomi as often as he can. He continues to be obsessed with anything he can move or manipulate, particularly doors and cabinets. He can still be difficult to understand, but his pronunciation is slowly improving. For months he talked at odd moments about "doo-tee man". I had no idea what he was talking about and assumed he was butchering the pronunciation of something familiar. Finally, we realized what he meant. Scott plays a "game" where he walks his pointer and middle finger around pretending to be a man walking. He walks across tables, falls off ledges, and generally makes the kids laugh in any way possible. We eventually put it together that while Scott does this little act, he sings "Doo-tee-doo-tee-doo..." We'd found doo-tee man! <br />
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Naomi is now four months old, and has continued to be a happy, content baby. She is a good sleeper at home (though not so much at daycare). She has rolled over from tummy to back several times, but it's been several weeks since I've seen her do it. She can alllmost get from her back to her tummy, and isn't too far away from sitting up on her own. Today we gave her a first taste of solid food, but it was a bit of a fail--she ended up screaming her head off, it made her so angry! We may try again in a week or two and see if it goes better. <br />
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I took Naomi to get her four month pictures taken yesterday. She performed like a champ, and Mommy even had time to do some shopping while they printed the photos. <br />
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<br />Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-25829673031225278502012-11-19T22:29:00.001-06:002012-11-19T22:30:55.073-06:00baby alive!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
In the past few days, it seems, Naomi has shifted from being a little lump of a baby to being a truly interactive little kiddo. She smiles, she coos, and she's even starting to try to laugh in response to tickles and funny noises. She now prefers looking at faces to looking at walls, even her favorite bookshelf and wall decorations. She's started smiling at me when I pick her up in the morning, instead of just crying immediately. She's even making some pathetic efforts to put things in her mouth: she fixates on something, flails her arms indiscriminately, and smacks her lips. As a bonus, she's a good sleeper and goes around 7-8 hours before waking up. And she really is a sweet and happy baby, even today after coming down with a cold. She even rolled over four times this afternoon! </div>
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As you can imagine, Mommy is thrilled with these developments. It's so much fun to see her figure things out and to truly enjoy her company instead of just taking care of her all the time. And since she's been going to bed earlier in the evening, I can enjoy some time with the twins. Last night I was a "monster" who terrorized them with my hungry stare and terrible fangs. Tonight we read books behind a blanket hung over the side of the bunk bed. Apparently, "fort" is a hard word--Lily kept calling it a "pork", and I kept trying not to laugh while she could see me. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A true gift of love: Lily shared her beloved polka-dot blanket with Naomi to help keep her warm.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We went to a superhero-themed birthday party for Parker yesterday. Apparently, even superheroes need to stop and take a break sometimes! </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sweet, happy (and leaky) girl!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of Scott's recent accomplishments: redoing our guest bathroom. It's such an improvement!</td></tr>
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A couple of cute things I want to remember:</div>
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<li>Tonight, Lily cuddled up to me before bed. She said she wanted to marry me. It was so sweet, I hated having to explain she couldn't!</li>
<li>Lately, the kids have been increasingly interested in what Scott does at work. One evening, Noah was talking to Scott about what he should do when he caught a "bad man". He didn't have the words he needed, but he was painstakingly trying to describe how Scott might use rope to tie someone's arms and legs to keep them from getting away. Once he figured out what Noah was trying to say, Scott pulled out his handcuffs and held them up. Noah stopped abruptly, pointed at them, and said, "...Oh! You have <i>those</i>!"</li>
<li>We were supposed to go meet my friend Page and a couple of her kids at a museum today. But poor Page broke her hand! When I explained that our outing was cancelled because of Page's broken hand, Lily thought for a minute and asked, "She will get a new hand?"</li>
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Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-45497760645254859442012-10-13T21:29:00.000-05:002012-10-13T21:36:25.377-05:00in the interest of full disclosureLest there be any confusion on the matter, motherhood is not always my favorite job. There are some things that are terrifically unenjoyable. Case in point: pregnancy. Who enjoys being pregnant? Not I. And then, when it's over, you either get to enjoy hours of labor pains and birth, or major abdominal surgery. Sometimes, if you're really lucky, you get BOTH. Your progeny thanks you for bringing her into the world by requiring your around-the-clock care and feeding. <br />
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At this point, it has been over a month since I have slept more than three hours at a stretch. I'm constantly being sucked on. If I'm not wolfing down a meal in the ten minutes Naomi chances to sleep, I'm juggling her on my hip while I sort laundry. Evenings are particularly ridiculous, as I usually end up holding a baby in one arm and making dinner in the other, while playing referee to late-day whining from the big kids. <br />
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At the end of the day I haven't accomplished much beyond getting to the end of the day. I haven't done anything beyond the minimum, really. As exhausting as it is, I have only done what I am expected to do, what mothers everywhere are expected to do.<br />
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Especially frustrating to me at this point is the job of breastfeeding. While I know it has innumerable benefits and I'm committed to it, I simply don't like it. I'd <i>love </i>to take a little vaycay and NOT be the one who has to be on-call for the baby every time she's hungry. Not be the one who is confined to the couch for each evening's four-hour marathon feeding/fussing session. <br />
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But every once in a while in these long, early-baby days, the fog clears and I am reminded that the blessings of motherhood far outweigh the inconveniences. The way Naomi has no idea who I am or what I've done for her, yet she knows it is my arm she wants to hold her, and my chest she wants to snuggle into. The fact that Lily whines and rages when I don't have enough time for her--not because I enjoy it or even because it's acceptable behavior--but because it means she <i>needs </i>her mommy, and nothing else will do. The way my baby's eyes slowly close and she gives a sigh of ineffable peace as she settles against me to sleep. <br />
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Being so important has its drawbacks, but I'll take them.<br />
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<br />Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-76620751714045452302012-10-05T23:00:00.001-05:002012-10-05T23:00:50.166-05:00Gus is a Gussie!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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So this has admittedly been a long time coming, but... we have a baby! Naomi Claire Hewitt was born September 7, at 9:38 a.m. She weighed 6 lbs, 15 oz, and was 19 1/4 inches long. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daddy hanging out with Naomi in the hospital room</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting ready to go home!</td></tr>
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Gemma and Grandad were on call for the birth, and came up and <strike>spoiled</strike> took care of the twins while Scott and I were in the hospital. We were so grateful for their help! Noah and Lily had a great time with them, and it was fun getting to see their reaction to the new baby. And then about 30 seconds later they were ready to go home... thank goodness for electronic entertainment to keep them busy!</div>
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Grandma also came to stay with us for a couple of weeks, and got to do a lot of fun and exciting jobs around our house, including: laundry, dishes, cooking, and cleaning. She also managed to be a surrogate mother to the twins for much of the day while Scott and I stayed busy with the new baby. She got in some grandbaby cuddle time too, though!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noah saw Grandma snuggling with Naomi, and decided that she needed several accouterments for her nap.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dan and Emily have come to visit a couple of times. Here, Emily snuggles the baby while Dan keeps himself busy reading from one of the various parenting books strewn about the living room.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think she was a week old here. She already looks so tiny in this picture!</td></tr>
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Preschooler shenanigans continue in the Hewitt household. The kids love dressing up, so there is usually one or more character running around. Firefighter Noah apparently loves to do Princess Fairy Lily's hair...<br />
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The kids also LOVE to love the baby. I feel terrible, but I'm always having to tell them to get out of her face, stop pulling on her arms, etc. Dakota, however, has no such limits and has often served as a stand-in when the baby is inaccessible for torment. In related news, Lily insists on dressing herself most days--hence the crazy pants. Her idea of matching is dressing herself in head-to-toe pink as frequently as possible.</div>
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Scott has stayed crazy-busy since Naomi's birth, not only helping take care of her and the kids and growing his family-leave beard, but also making several improvements to the house. He fixed up the kids' playset by revamping the sandbox and building a new rock climbing wall. They have spent hours every day since playing outside.<br />
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Naomi seems to be a pretty happy baby so far--no colic or excessive fussiness yet, anyway. She smiles all the time in her sleep (and, lately, at walls and thin air...) so I'm hoping she'll be a happy, smiley baby. <br />
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<br />Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-41962458118964231592012-09-02T21:57:00.005-05:002012-09-02T22:25:31.731-05:00the end of the world as we know itSeptember is here. I'm back at work and the kids are back in daycare. Our long, lovely summer is over. And, most importantly, "Baby Gus" is being forcibly evicted in 5 days. Five days! People keep asking me if I'm ready, if I'm excited.<br />
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And if I'm truly, truly honest... I'm not. I have ordered a dunce cap and a shirt that says, "I AM A TERRIBLE MOMMY" to wear in honor of the lack of enthusiasm I feel for my poor unborn child. I mean... I'm not upset about having a baby, don't get me wrong. Part of my problem, I think, is that I approach major life changes with a sense of needing to prepare and hunker down, rather than just getting excited. I remember this feeling with the twins especially. People would ask me the same questions about being excited, and it was really hard to smother my gut response of "NO, I'M NOT READY, I'M FREAKING OUT!!" and answer with something that sounded vaguely maternal. <br />
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I'm not quite that worried about it this time. In fact I'm probably not worried enough, unfortunately. When I was pregnant with the twins, I fretted and read and planned until I was prepared for everything from diaper changes to natural disasters. This time, it took me until a month ago to remember that babies spit up, and I'd probably better find where I'd stored the burp cloths. It's still a bit surreal, too, oddly enough. That this growth on my abdomen is a child... how strange is that?<br />
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But... excited? I'm excited not to be pregnant anymore. I'm excited to watch another child develop and see the twins get to be a big brother and sister. But I'm not excited about another c-section. Figuring out how to feed a new baby. Trying to coordinate three children's naptimes so that I can EVER have time to rest or clean. The spit-ups, the blow-outs, the laundry. And the sleepless nights, the planning my life around a child who sleeps and eats in relentless three-hour cycles. I could really skip every bit of that and be perfectly fine.<br />
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And I'm not looking forward to upsetting our balance. I'm pretty dern happy with our little family, just the way it is. (One factor that made it difficult to decide whether to even have another baby in the first place.) I love my kids. I revel in their smiles and the fun and love that we share. I have our little life more or less under control (as much as I can reasonably expect, anyway). But... adding a baby? How will that work? Why am I messing with a good thing?<br />
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I know this is silliness, though. I know that I will love this baby with the same obsessive love I have for the twins. And that despite the sleeplessness and constant bodily fluids, in a few weeks I won't be able to remember what it was like without our family's smallest member, and I will have no desire to change a thing. So, in the next few days, if you happen to ask me if I'm excited and I answer with some sort of glassy-eyed stare, please don't be worried I'm going to hate my child. I really am excited, but that excitement is buried under a million layers of pragmatic anxiety.<br />
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And could somebody please remind me to delete this post in a few years, so that poor baby Gus will never know what a terrible, hateful mommy I am? Thanks...<br />
<br />Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-72477294085588997402012-07-18T17:38:00.002-05:002012-07-18T17:39:36.744-05:00a family business venture?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Based on Lily and Noah's newfound scissors obsession and the ever-growing threat of identity theft, I believe we have the potential to start our own small business. If anyone needs professional help shredding documents, we've got you covered! Your personal information will be extremely secure for at least a year or two, until the kiddos learn to read. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiA2SjcI-2Fgsd0RFdUGasXakI7zE1dF3ST4EqB92d8rjQGZK-0Q5X3khQ1G1jY_R67FBUqlPSTAz5YGTurS1kfK5q_PGHh9GmzOpf7_RAvbk7QCLmUaq6TukQvyry7ylwPY4XXQvEAN4/s1600/SAM_1003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiA2SjcI-2Fgsd0RFdUGasXakI7zE1dF3ST4EqB92d8rjQGZK-0Q5X3khQ1G1jY_R67FBUqlPSTAz5YGTurS1kfK5q_PGHh9GmzOpf7_RAvbk7QCLmUaq6TukQvyry7ylwPY4XXQvEAN4/s320/SAM_1003.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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In related business news, we may be looking to contract out for professional cleaning services. Noah tries hard, but the more he sweeps... the more spread out the pieces get!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5yleu_ce0YRTA9kpX42eyX0VJPlxVrX9WQxhSLOMm-D1YL0Ejk7yG907bme92DLQy-gtR4TJzK5e3uWKkTeZ_DZRPioADnO4KIuFVmHXsH3q1QI3ysU-or0vT7wnMaC2tmUcOAZ5yo00/s1600/SAM_1009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5yleu_ce0YRTA9kpX42eyX0VJPlxVrX9WQxhSLOMm-D1YL0Ejk7yG907bme92DLQy-gtR4TJzK5e3uWKkTeZ_DZRPioADnO4KIuFVmHXsH3q1QI3ysU-or0vT7wnMaC2tmUcOAZ5yo00/s320/SAM_1009.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-47709233256768648592012-07-17T09:53:00.004-05:002012-07-17T09:56:16.106-05:00growing...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
All right, so it's been a long time. A loooooonnng time. It's amazing how much it can feel like every day blends in with the rest so that there's nothing to report... and yet when I start looking back and thinking of summing it all up, there's SO much that it's overwhelming! So that has been my story for the past several months.</div>
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Several things have happened or are happening in the Hewitt household and extended family which fall under the broad category of growth:</div>
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<li style="text-align: left;">First and foremost, there's a baby coming! After recovering from twinfants for a couple of years, Scott and I were brave enough to try for "just one". Happily, we were successful, and the newest Hewitt should be here in early September. I didn't want to find out the sex of the baby this time, and although Scott thought that was a crazy idea, he has been kind enough to play along. Lily named the baby "Gus" for now. </li>
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<li style="text-align: left;">We have a new niece/cousin! Abigail was born to Scott's brother and sister-in-law in March. Despite some pretty big indications during the pregnancy that she would have heart problems, she was miraculously born completely healthy (and adorable!). </li>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFduJhCOijbJGT-h4C4nwOKFXkhhW9Ic7AOpmZQvXXJKVGZ92SlE2y2syrS3T0-8qSCx0qNW3BnV5UTyxAeAdVWjpKsciNYj-z9ACGj2KlUPnBeq5wmQGJHsWTo9dZTbPL-ghP6Y7oyOw/s1600/abby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFduJhCOijbJGT-h4C4nwOKFXkhhW9Ic7AOpmZQvXXJKVGZ92SlE2y2syrS3T0-8qSCx0qNW3BnV5UTyxAeAdVWjpKsciNYj-z9ACGj2KlUPnBeq5wmQGJHsWTo9dZTbPL-ghP6Y7oyOw/s320/abby.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Abby, at about 3.5 months</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfzrnxC84AHjqkmD7wJ02ERdXsalW4d3OWcaSrcfpxSvIEOaRpXlzvBfKsRQzZZEW4M0e1sbq0F8IOVclI0AtKXMQWHzoWDkhKcuyu_d7UHGYLj3vvU2s6ePE8-J0rOUuIJdsVGphAHZ0/s1600/SAM_0841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfzrnxC84AHjqkmD7wJ02ERdXsalW4d3OWcaSrcfpxSvIEOaRpXlzvBfKsRQzZZEW4M0e1sbq0F8IOVclI0AtKXMQWHzoWDkhKcuyu_d7UHGYLj3vvU2s6ePE8-J0rOUuIJdsVGphAHZ0/s1600/SAM_0841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfzrnxC84AHjqkmD7wJ02ERdXsalW4d3OWcaSrcfpxSvIEOaRpXlzvBfKsRQzZZEW4M0e1sbq0F8IOVclI0AtKXMQWHzoWDkhKcuyu_d7UHGYLj3vvU2s6ePE8-J0rOUuIJdsVGphAHZ0/s1600/SAM_0841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfzrnxC84AHjqkmD7wJ02ERdXsalW4d3OWcaSrcfpxSvIEOaRpXlzvBfKsRQzZZEW4M0e1sbq0F8IOVclI0AtKXMQWHzoWDkhKcuyu_d7UHGYLj3vvU2s6ePE8-J0rOUuIJdsVGphAHZ0/s1600/SAM_0841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfzrnxC84AHjqkmD7wJ02ERdXsalW4d3OWcaSrcfpxSvIEOaRpXlzvBfKsRQzZZEW4M0e1sbq0F8IOVclI0AtKXMQWHzoWDkhKcuyu_d7UHGYLj3vvU2s6ePE8-J0rOUuIJdsVGphAHZ0/s1600/SAM_0841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfzrnxC84AHjqkmD7wJ02ERdXsalW4d3OWcaSrcfpxSvIEOaRpXlzvBfKsRQzZZEW4M0e1sbq0F8IOVclI0AtKXMQWHzoWDkhKcuyu_d7UHGYLj3vvU2s6ePE8-J0rOUuIJdsVGphAHZ0/s320/SAM_0841.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<li><span style="background-color: white;">Noah and Lily turned three in May. I'm not sure where my babies went, but they are long, long gone. I can't believe how big they are these days! They chatter constantly, remember SO much, and question</span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><i style="background-color: white;">everything.</i><span style="background-color: white;"> Being off with them for the summer is exhausting on a daily basis, but so much fun! </span></li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUqZJ8zP7o6rjpjgi-BXiLZwy5nCl5khsN5TxwmVsR7qIbvt_jMHk2G3zlOvY94_-jKpZobhqmMa0ihXGUdgCEasTQ-0JFsk-JHSJ598nxo9d3a_jquHhj26oyBJn0c8JvX1cLULtt79Y/s1600/SAM_0844.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUqZJ8zP7o6rjpjgi-BXiLZwy5nCl5khsN5TxwmVsR7qIbvt_jMHk2G3zlOvY94_-jKpZobhqmMa0ihXGUdgCEasTQ-0JFsk-JHSJ598nxo9d3a_jquHhj26oyBJn0c8JvX1cLULtt79Y/s320/SAM_0844.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<li>We bought a house! After a year of renting a small house in Bastrop, a house happened to go on the market that was exactly what we were looking for. It's rather more blue than I would like, and it didn't have a fence, but otherwise it's pretty much our "dream" home. Scott fixed us up with a fence pretty quickly, and it looks great! </li>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A little of our pretty new fence!</td></tr>
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<li>We are about to embark on a multi-state trip, since both my sister Emily and my brother Mark are getting married! Emily and Dan eloped last July but are having a traditional ceremony near Nashville on their first anniversary. And Mark is getting married to Teresa less than a week later, in Bloomington, Illinois.</li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF-FfrsrsOnr_2ZGucS7wbDwGQFCQShXO5SO9DeOoOqNnkQFOWSuEjLpS5Tkm4ewIDzL72olcVoAyFwK0c-7dfPihUpj5_h-5S6X_jdLFg5lpbr7ZtVUS6Djc-iXNlxVhqW4Xblj2JT_k/s1600/mark+and+teresa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF-FfrsrsOnr_2ZGucS7wbDwGQFCQShXO5SO9DeOoOqNnkQFOWSuEjLpS5Tkm4ewIDzL72olcVoAyFwK0c-7dfPihUpj5_h-5S6X_jdLFg5lpbr7ZtVUS6Djc-iXNlxVhqW4Xblj2JT_k/s320/mark+and+teresa.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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And that is all for now... this post has taken me about three hours, since I have to stop about every 3 minutes and provide entertainment, breakfast, or conflict resolution. Not to mention that blogger has apparently made a lot of changes to their formatting since I was here last, and it's taking me a long time to do things. So ta-ta for now... hopefully I'll update in less than 8 months...</div>
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<br /></div>Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-46449468146776924932011-11-11T21:38:00.010-06:002011-11-11T23:39:29.499-06:00fall fun with the fam<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC0SriugC-dxZ3WNrPLsqNXWT1c6QRwwbqK3Jvd8zJzr51Qn1G9-biIeqxMMy8xnFht8xh8AgCPFCDZB4muV4y58rANwKWygO3azERwgKAUfdjnmJdgyf6K1OKGRg0UG6mVmwXqhzfqgA/s1600/SAM_0357.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC0SriugC-dxZ3WNrPLsqNXWT1c6QRwwbqK3Jvd8zJzr51Qn1G9-biIeqxMMy8xnFht8xh8AgCPFCDZB4muV4y58rANwKWygO3azERwgKAUfdjnmJdgyf6K1OKGRg0UG6mVmwXqhzfqgA/s320/SAM_0357.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673976321570318322" /></a><br /><div>We recently had visitors from the north: Grandma, Grandpa, Uncle Mark, and his girlfriend Teresa came to visit. We had a lot of fun going to a pumpkin patch, a couple of fall festivals, a local zoo, and otherwise just having fun at home. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3oEE1wEXZmKlaHr_x0n-RhHhePKRVTZQJ8hT6awfg0veW3vARQgYXmG5ehaxyn8eYiWuj2FYlDuM58gbi87L3ksF-JMy7RRbuVnjSIqJTI_66ZhtffP5TT3whb2PkwAjPAq03Fa15cs4/s1600/SAM_0357.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><br /></a></div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8xFxpDN1xMDZ7qDscHgrYlfQ8yvr2fkYOKwEPTFNcVAmmIDcrQwJSOnxIq9_DvV1oZre1gfsCnnPh9N6r4QXWYrKrR-_AgXIChk_QXOMet4gZsB_4HJKQHZiwqUyqbWiG-I7RpIuQQgI/s1600/SAM_0335.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8xFxpDN1xMDZ7qDscHgrYlfQ8yvr2fkYOKwEPTFNcVAmmIDcrQwJSOnxIq9_DvV1oZre1gfsCnnPh9N6r4QXWYrKrR-_AgXIChk_QXOMet4gZsB_4HJKQHZiwqUyqbWiG-I7RpIuQQgI/s320/SAM_0335.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673970506627344690" /></a>Lily was less-than-enthused about posing with pumpkins....<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB76UbU0IcUZ682BHrEgww4AA6O7b8MM12B7_30E9QCaaimZ2L-XX693cKimt7jmcSy2TFDEeAVY76SdGSirkNxkm50p-7HAEjHzT7cMcXNVrzWcgBgG-uYUQ3rQnw0dYAF3lulJnhbK4/s1600/SAM_0348.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB76UbU0IcUZ682BHrEgww4AA6O7b8MM12B7_30E9QCaaimZ2L-XX693cKimt7jmcSy2TFDEeAVY76SdGSirkNxkm50p-7HAEjHzT7cMcXNVrzWcgBgG-uYUQ3rQnw0dYAF3lulJnhbK4/s320/SAM_0348.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673970499032168578" /></a>...but everybody had fun feeding the animals.<br /><br /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvjA_21gNFc-LV7jATYr3aRmgqzk-mmH_Te6LHAjx1fK6LEjx1RvO_NUS2LjhMk_VfIf_AfIdsYvNb-TncdI2qTqAsH718eY8VkErlTUwOiRwClHjsLDr41Baq8woa-0uTtiC1yLKGbY0/s320/SAM_0344.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673965933717207458" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " />Riding the "train"...<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG1_sXksCtjNGO61xeB8ZE6Aqbk-IMHAV1zd_TNMBeVZpoQmZtiF0P2yvRK9edWA_7V0fVM-1RUkrWDdOxm_VDWm8ALkEH-42HuqYD-AJHncNfq8Vo4IeiE6tkGyry-DLwpRZPb6s5xY8/s1600/SAM_0356.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG1_sXksCtjNGO61xeB8ZE6Aqbk-IMHAV1zd_TNMBeVZpoQmZtiF0P2yvRK9edWA_7V0fVM-1RUkrWDdOxm_VDWm8ALkEH-42HuqYD-AJHncNfq8Vo4IeiE6tkGyry-DLwpRZPb6s5xY8/s320/SAM_0356.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673968549384969058" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9FrhN1jaQ819YKqcp_ngCvT9mj5tfo5fFnEuOn4KhZmHk_k649oWp9PM2DN0ga8QXqZvmO_yYiNAHaC9U4UOP1xS-rvlliUk10L5IOgJUjbuuEXlzvL0SIyenE8gu7INEB-X5oMYzAyk/s1600/SAM_0352.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9FrhN1jaQ819YKqcp_ngCvT9mj5tfo5fFnEuOn4KhZmHk_k649oWp9PM2DN0ga8QXqZvmO_yYiNAHaC9U4UOP1xS-rvlliUk10L5IOgJUjbuuEXlzvL0SIyenE8gu7INEB-X5oMYzAyk/s320/SAM_0352.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673968538960186034" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiivAAM4g4O4dwNp0awfhp1W1SrtTHg_0-SC8z-7SZ_aVrXOyJagC8mlh-obAPhWtVBk7rySd3GRzo92A1sfWxZdD4YrZsYx3_f96QrhaG7bHXj7clBMchv5KZfU1omrwlrD4fwqyVqHOc/s1600/SAM_0362.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiivAAM4g4O4dwNp0awfhp1W1SrtTHg_0-SC8z-7SZ_aVrXOyJagC8mlh-obAPhWtVBk7rySd3GRzo92A1sfWxZdD4YrZsYx3_f96QrhaG7bHXj7clBMchv5KZfU1omrwlrD4fwqyVqHOc/s320/SAM_0362.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673968505479491938" /></a>Uncle Mark makes a fabulous horsie:<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV_6n44zoLLK5pz7FKmJhA9QFEqkhTTnB-D4_BQUasLfAsKhG94Xt5iDHvWGlmmYHV9vqhdlyNhwZZC71XVeRI8d0zISvw-uHjZCGXAWJc5f-Y5M1jWmNLdmSLw3ITT9Qt9SJefOfbROw/s1600/SAM_0400.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV_6n44zoLLK5pz7FKmJhA9QFEqkhTTnB-D4_BQUasLfAsKhG94Xt5iDHvWGlmmYHV9vqhdlyNhwZZC71XVeRI8d0zISvw-uHjZCGXAWJc5f-Y5M1jWmNLdmSLw3ITT9Qt9SJefOfbROw/s320/SAM_0400.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673968499523129138" /></a>We went to a Halloween festival at Fort Hood...<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-jcGiaGY6vsqv12gJIkgCP_WQxVH1U06kRxiE71OL0gfnAUUicAhyIcUJx0xYwof96_W7iXJcdvri5EB5ZGDyFOSIOR34clU7CaWS74NoE2X58tqd6VCGQPQDvQvPDP1sPgwmJMldp0/s1600/SAM_0369.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-jcGiaGY6vsqv12gJIkgCP_WQxVH1U06kRxiE71OL0gfnAUUicAhyIcUJx0xYwof96_W7iXJcdvri5EB5ZGDyFOSIOR34clU7CaWS74NoE2X58tqd6VCGQPQDvQvPDP1sPgwmJMldp0/s320/SAM_0369.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673965924262658530" /></a><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfOj5qgkHLDXBVcB3JNHMKgjCluxoo42cZQ4_KFAMntC2GMtw9YeyJRxEMnt1_W9c5yQGH1AQLL71b8lzqTq1zIvAPfXzE5TUjOfVF2f4W1fNZp_tuVoDPpqNy74cTUP8XnFP_ehY2MSw/s320/SAM_0371.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673954570384938610" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUN-FzE2JHiAfCaCXu4J4qegBXrrtJakW0Pe79m7_xoOKkhDAsCf003NEO8b494hUeg3kZzC4oKIzVB5CT-0kGs-A-CGKiYYBL47nPMr2F_gIodlvYRjHAeVW1o2OIdg_cMJRJor5_LWw/s320/SAM_0375.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673958392127387202" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPGYr5XeYy6QzB1EETMxRUGMkjFFf1y03XO8C8L2laUgSCdqNq3xzGpKzAr-9b8BAC0GwU5qsmcW2wNGrRCTFUaKLHrOhrczcWbuvDdqwiovNX-W2FYDD42IhK8B9iwvIhLVR8mGtObrc/s320/SAM_0376.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673958383277742130" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAuedxDWNIoEtLwcZM9vmuD-qERJUViUpyI7Y8nyQLZZaSZezpjbEbnw_SL39nFw_ESJiWhrEZ9Stg7fNOJ_a67xPnrTmYhyZhFL_v-GuLwezGPFmisKxiB5XrmGOguNBTikwcSSpT8qs/s320/SAM_0380.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673965898714072978" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhhVRIp9nx-z_kOxT2IW57Mf2Rl5thZqMGlnY0teTuSyjSmRHgffwcDlJ45ak2aPw31VjvayWSLpiyVaC-XIA0ZcMTV3LJCg91Nno88EwBcucC4AZt3i1TqjVhyWx82Rq-sCz7DLlY4wQ/s320/SAM_0410.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673958416970993858" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTc8uZJzE9-7_dreFj8G8qpTdMmDMvgRKz7djMMeMrNwIcM3rOWZN5vgyMtEd-zY2wWVizyGMCbwyeOT8_ly_AFvCfKJhvJczhJQgyRqtnPHeP7gQkJbR06rsypDj88HoVOdejG5fM46g/s320/SAM_0389.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673965893774537330" /><br /></div><div>On the morning of Halloween, Grandma and I took the twins to the Austin Children's Museum. Their favorite part? The stairs, of course...</div><div><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCjJjKkThphH2vdWVT9AQUz0AzvT9yUAOHWKiIhk8gjC_U_yHmYcAVI23qsuL6xTxd-7pSiX9kYvpJWR__k115uTQ3wFqR6dEE0uzTvBwFOH05dCAGK7yqUPrzM-e4VvqeEX8hLAuiNog/s320/SAM_0425.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673958406068478338" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEtieZdO9vq6xHf7aRqeoLZl8VuPDg0LJvITKd6XlgeV0Cg8FKf1SYSUHVeSSukPfCxcGOx7cgXTeyoJ2rxXCLEjpIPp2ohDMT-RgAXflY2S0LGpYxmCWYu-sf0bcgVj1SrYoEU-MjMNg/s1600/SAM_0421.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEtieZdO9vq6xHf7aRqeoLZl8VuPDg0LJvITKd6XlgeV0Cg8FKf1SYSUHVeSSukPfCxcGOx7cgXTeyoJ2rxXCLEjpIPp2ohDMT-RgAXflY2S0LGpYxmCWYu-sf0bcgVj1SrYoEU-MjMNg/s320/SAM_0421.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673965922588789634" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzchaqOaR1HjCBCD2beX2rLbIpT9rXFNF1SInU_LWmzRm8eqpOHjT2WYlPmzneh_Z1-4SoRaaBkVEpFwia0-PjVlrCscJn21QAu6dZi9cYVtMp390wtG78wf5_YWZPiEw_y6HBBlCOyig/s320/SAM_0415.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673954562232534610" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Zr-9IiD1NSBR4SJgZmjRfDIpjWpjW69ek6aoVRo_AfDr21fxwTCl-wc8wiQi9_RGc-URBNk8WC4vdE7qJlL-6ul6u3Nx63nxC65PDshks7-ggVV3HQNJYB07C6PUbNRmja3nLH22FSw/s1600/SAM_0428.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Zr-9IiD1NSBR4SJgZmjRfDIpjWpjW69ek6aoVRo_AfDr21fxwTCl-wc8wiQi9_RGc-URBNk8WC4vdE7qJlL-6ul6u3Nx63nxC65PDshks7-ggVV3HQNJYB07C6PUbNRmja3nLH22FSw/s320/SAM_0428.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673958378928619506" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">We painted some miniature pumpkins that Gemma bought for us. I thought the kids would be too little to really get much out of it, but they had an absolute blast, and did a lot better than I expected!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRmSEgBjrg5W3UzXJ1xE2ZZMDOsvsSZyQAn2cwVmr0GVSS3NilO1cSrcvmNYL5zkhAdJp8JdJCWL5HcJzOy3P9qPAfPz6GINiSc_RYCvyoulOU5ljFgPblFhtA-SdOrjpDEZ7WgPhBIrQ/s1600/SAM_0442.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRmSEgBjrg5W3UzXJ1xE2ZZMDOsvsSZyQAn2cwVmr0GVSS3NilO1cSrcvmNYL5zkhAdJp8JdJCWL5HcJzOy3P9qPAfPz6GINiSc_RYCvyoulOU5ljFgPblFhtA-SdOrjpDEZ7WgPhBIrQ/s320/SAM_0442.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673954555709804450" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAIBQmhtCZhFU0mCksQOyZDGDAh6IR78KJEzuCW4AvrA18-EJEDg8ayEJIedhOgmO64qf10Szq_2E9RyIF_W8lYV9gMMKaXWZEHhdEClFUDiY7EDOq8VaCN3QiDamkWhQ0vn0Qv-BU-a0/s1600/SAM_0446.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAIBQmhtCZhFU0mCksQOyZDGDAh6IR78KJEzuCW4AvrA18-EJEDg8ayEJIedhOgmO64qf10Szq_2E9RyIF_W8lYV9gMMKaXWZEHhdEClFUDiY7EDOq8VaCN3QiDamkWhQ0vn0Qv-BU-a0/s320/SAM_0446.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673954537379627378" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWhJKSWIR-0Ui6Ts70wZtJb54V_KDDisgAhHBQ7qK77_eCZm7uyeyjqdsPjxLtWx28Tt6zwzQu9ENiYpX6YoK5NLd3fCyMcEbFUU58-fsqtQgYlbTyu1TuYgwJQAw-LMc_m2lDETQ7FM/s1600/SAM_0432.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWhJKSWIR-0Ui6Ts70wZtJb54V_KDDisgAhHBQ7qK77_eCZm7uyeyjqdsPjxLtWx28Tt6zwzQu9ENiYpX6YoK5NLd3fCyMcEbFUU58-fsqtQgYlbTyu1TuYgwJQAw-LMc_m2lDETQ7FM/s320/SAM_0432.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673954535114332290" /></a>Lily was not impressed with pumpkin guts.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz8agMZ6TBwbhednMJlgNRhj9avOOsun8KbWGcDhO62hFG8GC39-tWOmYK6P6ozTldLEZd_K4Y8J7Du8nDG8B06KU_HSmbhAPHcc38SJayFkdSxqIS9MFsMXZhcER88DnD4-3YdSmpe6E/s1600/SAM_0456.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz8agMZ6TBwbhednMJlgNRhj9avOOsun8KbWGcDhO62hFG8GC39-tWOmYK6P6ozTldLEZd_K4Y8J7Du8nDG8B06KU_HSmbhAPHcc38SJayFkdSxqIS9MFsMXZhcER88DnD4-3YdSmpe6E/s320/SAM_0456.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673952348716059986" /></a>Noah thought it was great fun though.<br /><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVhuGlJapTmWm2WyGHyOd053ctlf2FpdNFBgnyDQlIMvYPm7Yi67t_7YIBYkM9YFMrhroJC_maxGEMQkg-jtcxh6PPt0-4mItOIan_OgS1EPrxS2FB16y6LMXlgHZWFVcQe1p_AOkewQ/s320/SAM_0464.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673952317715170962" />Meet Emily's new puppy, Knox. Enjoy the cutness now. In a year and a half he will weigh 200 lbs.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_THpirZUcb5tRpXYRoYHiKTB96XlT6HTU2lrbmWPYsoAKM_kvx6_VBLYlKm9DIUlyeefw-BbjzJhpgquxTvzG4m9rZO6UNOdi3rqsiP_y96ocZZTvotLwIYyidykTN3zXPG0kAxs9Zw/s1600/SAM_0451.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_THpirZUcb5tRpXYRoYHiKTB96XlT6HTU2lrbmWPYsoAKM_kvx6_VBLYlKm9DIUlyeefw-BbjzJhpgquxTvzG4m9rZO6UNOdi3rqsiP_y96ocZZTvotLwIYyidykTN3zXPG0kAxs9Zw/s320/SAM_0451.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673952332992594562" /></a>All decked out for Halloween:<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQXP4O27DasQQPU-VWuFn1RBwwSeit9gq_pNItv7JWn0Hp3curGS617-IxJjz2ur15aB5rP8aWlQ4fOaXVHeQrkl2VVa1g4-CpIVVVzxbYqYsqsE6bSnwaCLn6S_Ne6dgqJPtyFT9lYJA/s1600/SAM_0479.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQXP4O27DasQQPU-VWuFn1RBwwSeit9gq_pNItv7JWn0Hp3curGS617-IxJjz2ur15aB5rP8aWlQ4fOaXVHeQrkl2VVa1g4-CpIVVVzxbYqYsqsE6bSnwaCLn6S_Ne6dgqJPtyFT9lYJA/s320/SAM_0479.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673952300837655106" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhncqIrqEyRj7Nv1oUcntZlnb6l1ttJO6Ug_E0asNGktHxWHHYMMLsWG1SLpLtdwrmOiIly_otBPK0zulqXQSRjeEvNGjVdLChgGeXCu8lsnNAaFMHyBrPHE5NO8ISeC2nQ8X_pFIJWrr4/s1600/SAM_0480.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhncqIrqEyRj7Nv1oUcntZlnb6l1ttJO6Ug_E0asNGktHxWHHYMMLsWG1SLpLtdwrmOiIly_otBPK0zulqXQSRjeEvNGjVdLChgGeXCu8lsnNAaFMHyBrPHE5NO8ISeC2nQ8X_pFIJWrr4/s320/SAM_0480.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673952293474465298" /></a></div>Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-52282203723085658702011-09-27T21:23:00.002-05:002011-09-27T22:00:03.886-05:00gettin' busy livin'So to anyone who has even a moderate interest in reading this blog (this is you, Grandma and Gemma), I'm sorry. I have been quite remiss in keeping up with our exploits over the past few months. The task of summing up even a week or two is pretty overwhelming sometimes, so I let it slide. And the farther behind I got, the more insurmountable the job seemed to get...<br /><br />...so I'm not going to surmount it, I decided. :) This decision was made easier by the fact that our computer died a dramatic, smoky death this afternoon, so I currently do not have a way to upload the many pictures I am lacking. So there's my excuse, and my motivation: I have to provide a quick recap of our summer before we get a new computer that I can add pictures to!<br /><br />Okay, here goes:<br /><br /><ul><br /><li>Our summer was good, but HOT. I stopped keeping track of how many days reached over 100--it was just too depressing. Luckily, two-year-olds are pretty entertained by pretty much anything, since we spent most of the summer hiding from the sun. Crayons, markers, play-doh, and Diego have been our constant companions.</li><br /><li>Potty training is going great! Lily has had about 3 accidents since mid-June. Noah is less reliable, but does a pretty good job staying dry and he is F-I-N-A-L-L-Y starting to poo in the potty! Sometimes growing up is hard to do.</li><br /><li>The kids are still learning so much, it's unbelievable. They know all their letters, upper- and lowercase, and they know most of the letter sounds. (Thank you, Starfall and Leapfrog!) They can both count to ten in English and Spanish, and Noah recognizes numbers to ten. They love to "read" books--they remember quite a bit!</li><br /><li>Lily and Noah are talking SO much these days! Lily's sentences are getting more and more perfect and detailed, and she's making new connections all the time. Today we saw rainclouds, and I explained that it had rained a little, and how much we need the rain. She looked up in the middle of the Walmart parking lot and said, "We need rain, please, God!" I don't know how much she understands about prayer and God and our needs, but it's apparently more than I had given her credit for!</li><br /><li>Noah is quite the control freak lately. It makes me very tired, although I know it's completely normal. There are very well-defined limits throughout our days; there are specific things that I'm allowed to do, and many other things that Noah HAS to do for himself. As a result, he's able to do things like get himself completely dressed with almost no help from me. (I'm allowed to put on his shoes if he tries and fails.)</li><br /><li>The kids are loving day care, which we call "school". They are always asking if we "Go skoo' 'mowwow?" We have lots of discussions about the days of the week and what we're doing on which days. </li><br /><li>Things have been pretty crazy here over the past month or so. On September 4, a huge fire started, which destroyed over 1500 homes and something like 34,000 acres of land. Nobody is sure what the community will look like from now on, but the response from the state and the rest of the country has been pretty amazing. It's been pretty cool to see how God has provided in so many ways, even amid such a tragedy.</li></ul>Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-6261132399067051402011-06-25T14:16:00.003-05:002011-06-25T14:48:50.259-05:00home sweet (plastic) home<div style="text-align: left;">So we have moved, and we are semi-settled. Meaning that the kitchen is unpacked, I know how to get to Walmart without a map, and we can't step into our third bedroom because it's still so full of boxes.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">For most intents and purposes, life as I have known it for months and/or years has come to a screeching, abrupt halt. Kind of a combination of the end of a busy school year, finally being done with renovations/cleaning/packing/moving, and relocating to a place where we live 5 miles from the nearest (small) town. It's not necessarily a bad thing, but it is taking some getting used to. There's only so long I can play with play-doh and watch the same Dora DVD before my brain starts to fry. I go through this to some degree every summer as I adjust to being off. And really, I am thrilled to have a couple of months to spend uninterrupted time with my ever-changing hoodlums. They still change so fast it's ridiculous, and they say and do things every day that make Scott and I laugh and shake our heads in amusement. Noah has made himself the "hat police"--he becomes extremely concerned if Scott seems to be heading off to work without his hat. Lily is currently convinced that every animal we see is either a baby who wants its mommy, or a mommy who wants her baby. Every animal. Squirrels, birds, ducks, whatever. And then we have to have a lengthy discussion about it. Every animal. Every time. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">For those who are curious, here's a picture of our new digs:</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNi87iWcoxkXnwPBJz0992rLzRVkMi1aiPdd3qS34E_mdYLXNCMjcDk6fwLq8id9fDFHiINgkv0lGqC5HcfcY4JMzRnMuo_P_QJMkQM7DGTQB1WafhsUMwdyGyN2i828vI8eGfh0IbhrA/s320/house+front.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622240668301634914" /></div><div><br /></div><div>It's not exciting, but it definitely works. It's been very interesting to me, moving into a manufactured house--I've never lived in one before. Some things seem just as sturdy as a "regular" house, and some things just don't. But it's in really good shape, and just a tiny bit smaller than our old house. It shares several acres with a few other small houses, owned by a sweet Vietnamese lady (and her dog, named Charlie--haven't quite figured that one out yet). </div><div><br /></div><div>Small-town life is going to take some getting used to, although in a good way. People are ridiculously friendly, to the point that I just want to stare at them. Yesterday we took some cookies to our landowner (she gave us a squash last week), and we ended up being pretty much forced inside her house. She fed us fruit and grape juice on her couch while she sat on the floor, and insisted that the kids each take home a large stuffed animal (she had several--not sure why). Today I took the kids to the park and we were instantly adopted by an older couple who were there with their grandson. They helped my kids around on the equipment, told me their names and address, and said that if I ever come by, to go straight around to the back door--they can't hear it when people knock in the front. </div><div><br /></div><div>See? Ridiculous! I could get used to it though. As long as the small-town drama doesn't turn out to be too bad.</div><div><br /></div><div>So... so far so good in the land of Bastrop. Tomorrow's adventure: church! </div>Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-87589446462588837362011-06-18T14:22:00.002-05:002011-06-18T14:39:14.561-05:00like it never even happenedIn case there were any doubts, let me clarify: I don't like moving.<br /><br />I mean I really, <em>really </em>don't like it.<br /><br />I don't like making decisions in general. It feels like way too much power. (Doesn't somebody else know better than me how many kids I should have? Seriously.) And moving is kind of a biggie, especially when it's voluntary. <br /><br />And then there's the preparation. Deciding when to make it "official". Getting your house ready to sell. Getting it even MORE ready to sell. Cleaning, cleaning, and cleaning some more. <em>Keeping</em> it spotlessly clean for showings, on top of everything else that already kept me busy till late in the evenings. Accepting the reality that you only have a few weeks left in your house, and all that must be done in that time. Finding a new house. Moving into that one. Cleaning it. Cleaning the old one! Driving back and forth. Saying goodbye to each facet of our old life, piece by piece by piece. <br /><br />It is hard, and busy, and just sad. And, I realized today, it feels kind of insulting. To move out and clean out every piece of our life, as if it was never here. To look at our house now, nobody lives here. No dogs ever ran in and out with muddy feet and shed profusely all over. No babies crawled to the wall and left handprints as they pulled themselves up. Nobody accomplished anything, made anything, or did anything. Nobody talked or fought or loved. Nothing happened. <br /><br />A house is just a house, I guess. It's just a place. But it's a very personal place. (Sort of like underwear.) The things we did here left messes and scuffs and stains. And to have to scrub my family out of the floors and wipe us off the walls so <em>completely</em> feels a little unjust, I think. I know it has to happen, and I wouldn't want to move into anybody else's dirty house, of course. Selling a house just turns an extremely personal place into a commodity, and it just feels wrong all the way around it. <br /><br />And in two days it won't be ours anymore. A new family will come and make their own scuffs and marks as they live and love here. And it will be their home just as much as it was ours. And that's okay. <br /><br />It just makes me sad.Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-9021978742026850942011-06-14T22:31:00.001-05:002011-06-14T23:04:08.522-05:00a little birthday bashing goes a long wayOkay, I've given up. The twins turned 2 almost a MONTH ago, and we had their birthday party two weeks before that. And I STILL have not documented it here. Of course, selling a house, finishing out a very busy school year, and moving into a new house don't leave a lot of time for extra things. So my perfect birthday post is just not going to happen. Instead, you get the smattering of pictures that I managed to upload a few weeks ago, before my lack of free time truly spiraled out of control. I think I can get the basic idea across, although there was so much more that happened...<br /><br />Noah checking out his birthday cake, mid-creation. He was very handsy.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606410585471007906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2zO6kGw-vbxZjnvooQ9yC0sask4WMevefN5YQVE0NxNuZA4GL6VhuIKo-R0EDpaPvClhEjOf7fwWcTsUSRI18NxEMFCCvSDbpE6mM3vQWolJ7uhUF5o0oLB41acoZ7yo8hNRYgZgkfSg/s320/DSC04928.JPG" /><br /><br />Noah's train, and Lily's butterfly cake.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606413000501445682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyMP0u3tCgYg5HyN5Q2_FyaTBCbgXILPOjdCigdqwyoEg1vkHKtOomE8l1fnGyLjqx1Obj9Gf9DCmil-dVCwaG7ZBkNdjdoEvk4jZzhTgrduEWKb0R8jBsLZ9mhdhqIfGNSWLQk8CT0_c/s320/DSC05039.JPG" /><br />Despite hours of practicing for the big moment with bubble wands, Lily could not be convinced to blow out her candles with an audience.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606414597921467106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimchqkOWLhAubLaKzmyWMEbifwIELZ27rmGd38B_6EqH_HFkPzPNiGO8P_EUgId_hzj60xA_35otXzhHmIrO2ghztczEPlkc-0oiMlXJAuQLfeOfulyTmpHyVJXSI6l2xRIgCHDPlM0LE/s320/DSC05072.JPG" /><br /><br />Noah could! His aim was worse, though, on account of his grabby arms having to be held down.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606414602121499922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin_LqXESEuH4uY04dOBhrr0nHJnMcoHvKdMM2DOc6rIBmM94Tn_Wqieoe1Q5nOTQg32gDkFVPo-3vpH9u9CgpYTFpo29hlCkvtK2dX8hSPUe3cox8caGaNgv02JQy11kBzCe3JoZZ7bRI/s320/DSC05078.JPG" /><br />For those interested, red food coloring comes out with Oxi clean pre-wash spray!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606416197806039330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAHwgr7I1PW9u0yFhA3kuQ-fW87QlpLaML9mh5N6fsN5X4q6B9eiEGylCMqf54-SpE-WssN0I5dKt0gMmEL73I_HPl8bYLBZDyawqED-MS7hxEKSN7fK3OYOXRzM4AEbEbhEhl0sZumNc/s320/DSC05089.JPG" /><br />Family birthday portrait. This is when we figured out that Lily could smile on command.</p><br /><br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606412998441018498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXBsUbfdYZaZpH5bmOPE0hHBNaIxvs4cgJeRxusV85OpTvF_hmpI2YjHh54Yjns-D61O6QCO7pf0JPnip5z_XwfZMFp1HZOiro0r6YvZs0m-VH1zGaXSt_EmAiwEvcx-Rb5E7fadFdX20/s320/DSC05021.JPG" /></p><br /><p>Lily with her Gemma and her stash of presents, birthday bashers in the background.<br /></p><br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606410590204914802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJSpXM1ERHnEBS6ejQcmgFuadUcxkshCNOXlfx-zoY-C-6B0WiL8ancQtI-oslRRHOfeCn-IHxQxqPU-DBfiVcIbUIlxUFOnGk-qhdvU1cVtVcTXdwu1_SbL5qJoWzkQBey8I9L4NuK60/s320/DSC05015.JPG" /></p><br /><br /><p>And Grandad, about half an hour post-party:<br /></p><br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606416201317986802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXh8yV9WrO8_a7ETUhR1JfDwFHkl4VG3kDC9B6OS7NfRKIaYpwzn60JvzJtopXTfhWV0D3mZSgFCDLRwEzmfIDoz1fpzxmFVrqljXw5dmAKax0wdC5Kn0eRURZ___Pa2I7jWuVDkfCIJw/s320/DSC05105.JPG" /> </p>Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-43254222164379394352011-05-30T19:37:00.005-05:002011-05-30T21:36:20.174-05:00who's in charge here, anyway?<div><div><div><div>I just realized that I made it the entire month of May without making a single post. AND IT WAS THE KIDS' BIRTHDAY! Sigh. I have pictures and stuff, I promise. Balloons and cake and the whole lot. I'll get to it someday. </div><div> </div><div>But right now my motive is different: Just wanted to get something funny down on virtual paper before I forget about it. </div><div> </div><div>Lest we all forget, potty training is still in full swing around here. The kids are slowly getting better--they usually only have about one potty accident a day. Noah has yet to decide that pooping should occur outside his pull-up, and Lily sometimes gets creative on where she puts her #2's. (Today's location: the back porch step.)</div><div> </div><div>Anyway, along that vein, Scott decided in his random, spur-of-the-moment humor kind of way, to tease the kids by pretending to poop in the stroller. Lily became quite upset, squealing, "No, Daddy!" in an anguished voice as she pointed in the general direction of the bathroom.</div><div> <img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 240px; height: 320px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612675785533554434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaUvIbZqvJpcvEtILAbDh2kM_hoFLJYO9wr6RXHl8YQWSwMUyie3zr35gvkzGBX7fdfyBX-9ExyvBTnj13iWuCZC5bZIGxIh21TlX8evo7vHGHhKGAzF1B1mdaKMVdxCoYNOO24D4NAzU/s320/CIMG3701.JPG" /></div><div>Noah took a more hands-on approach, inspecting Daddy's pants for poo-poo. </div><div> </div><div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 240px; height: 320px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612675779119636626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtNUw8L5LgtIX_yHDwfK3bOn9W_s9PWhIz229btsdSY2XGXrqDPtw_7brXc4EKtXrLe8ftNz-4a7zO9on2ruDjYlWGy-OY8nKNFd-AFKXX9jPHSy3OK1JXPXggOZ_wrsaJFmfrKaHI5T8/s320/CIMG3699.JPG" />Not finding any, he ran to the bathroom and removed the kiddie seat, then yelled, "Daddy! Poo-poo potty!" to get him to come and use the appropriate outlet. </div><div> </div><div>All in all, hysterical. What did we ever do without kids?</div></div></div></div>Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-16523247531320406712011-04-30T12:35:00.003-05:002011-04-30T12:44:55.379-05:00bubble-ickyI believe we have sufficiently answered the question: "Why did it take them so long to invent colored bubbles?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPmzqcqTgwKFBbz3N2jot8fNKj3Z1AaIhcKBmt6pND_gXMYp2A8uhoD4qcf7ea56JVnmRtKzDzxG5hiVmkHl1rI31pYjkVuJT0lMoTQGErsqgUXXn5la7kx7YodPBSaUrF8U3UbAWySuY/s1600/CIMG3631.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601433152074026418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPmzqcqTgwKFBbz3N2jot8fNKj3Z1AaIhcKBmt6pND_gXMYp2A8uhoD4qcf7ea56JVnmRtKzDzxG5hiVmkHl1rI31pYjkVuJT0lMoTQGErsqgUXXn5la7kx7YodPBSaUrF8U3UbAWySuY/s320/CIMG3631.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT_iZOO5gUExUDIWs7lFrdxBgP8WMLTIZQpNAa5GcqVy6LXyC-sDx5Y_8S7f5cDbdD5sESUkhgfku4JRZeyeEOT7OulfvvDv5TorjpVpqr1n0F5ZwwCpdMNrwNhtZbRc7Nc8wCbcDUaiU/s1600/CIMG3630.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601433154553547730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT_iZOO5gUExUDIWs7lFrdxBgP8WMLTIZQpNAa5GcqVy6LXyC-sDx5Y_8S7f5cDbdD5sESUkhgfku4JRZeyeEOT7OulfvvDv5TorjpVpqr1n0F5ZwwCpdMNrwNhtZbRc7Nc8wCbcDUaiU/s320/CIMG3630.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTrRKiTSD5NmmhlcefTa8b9WKd9uiJiRr0_mCpdz5WY3HPq-vNGu1mvYiICzzitQUTJruCBls6ArDykDVIiRFkD9Ywn_ETygaKOW2Ugs9ABbg2YcboRrT_g-wzh0WdIZnE0Iff8hlA9_k/s1600/CIMG3629.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601433142405381922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTrRKiTSD5NmmhlcefTa8b9WKd9uiJiRr0_mCpdz5WY3HPq-vNGu1mvYiICzzitQUTJruCBls6ArDykDVIiRFkD9Ywn_ETygaKOW2Ugs9ABbg2YcboRrT_g-wzh0WdIZnE0Iff8hlA9_k/s320/CIMG3629.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcXiIYmYG57SrqI44_OfIV1WWHcWtDGanGRzqgmfBdhSCzXJusxzTYoqUs8pDdME-gQ-o30Ycbx4QDW6KGTs-eZ9zzEa6wEoofLAREKkzulGoLeURlzyMP0qK7mTB77MqH57MvHc6JqMw/s1600/CIMG3628.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601433130029329858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcXiIYmYG57SrqI44_OfIV1WWHcWtDGanGRzqgmfBdhSCzXJusxzTYoqUs8pDdME-gQ-o30Ycbx4QDW6KGTs-eZ9zzEa6wEoofLAREKkzulGoLeURlzyMP0qK7mTB77MqH57MvHc6JqMw/s320/CIMG3628.JPG" /></a> </div></div></div>Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-51754938891600674732011-04-26T22:21:00.005-05:002011-04-26T23:10:44.847-05:00April is for backtrackingI was organizing some pictures tonight, and realized I hadn't posted any pictures to the blog in quite a while... oops. Wouldn't everybody rather read my semi-morose ramblings than look at pictures of cute kiddos? Obviously.<br /><br /><br />But in case you're bored, here are some pictures as well:<br /><br />We got to see Gemma and Granddad for a little while a couple weeks ago, down in Bastrop. There's a park there, with a lively (and cracker-loving) waterfowl population.<br /><br /><br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600099857063459666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhBFyGTsq6Dnjbo6OEYK16XfnkHpmy6eCqYDJScb9uZ5O1jZYo0Fd4ZH_8kEFEbHrnEmaurzyaIdMWJ-MZx1gQg6gkt6zGtRfVzX8ojZ9NznjbCMDBouyguP9MMxFauoYrLdV08Y3XKnc/s320/CIMG3566.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600099853365563298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIP7nONQNCRFvMCxKmM8f5ACFZpzsnZIU-26Qw4pvAcBitcPvU-c9fK2H7Lz8Eq9NcwrR3xC7i1ApThPxdVefQsBJDWRYnXysDJANY0zB_OmENHi7cU4ux4uopENLx4qxoD5MBsuasBqs/s320/CIMG3563.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600099850086725010" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTqVv7nlg4KBA8UsoPpHGY8aO2vHxVIqT3HLqcMcCNDx8J7koRM77_7kLLFsZS78cb1bpWfEynwHft5OGN2fIv3i5J1sXwky3yY9D8lbG7lNR-HynHzuyygfGdxt9gKN_y4d1HhcbPAkI/s320/CIMG3553.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600099845964212130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijUtk7xdMnOD3YuD-oQrzOMmb-D8OB_XJzVaTkYgInMN8Iwlx-HfXbWf9NVDKhI_a_HcPCVZ1esVpEv5rEDYUXiG1LS7bvKyFP1Raasn1xdlOCwndmrS1qQy51hfvugVegE4yCXeViHuw/s320/CIMG3558.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600099843152562466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1zx4e9d4mxC8zl6m8E85WjHk-GN0AkCaInP93KSiYVvc8LxmIzYtADNYwj2jhht5kYQ055j-v2lotdaBWq1H9EEmCcej15KqmABrvZD54wWc62-LHulFiQpqk2fMH5CKz_qQ547Nt7zc/s320/CIMG3551.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600102339793136306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9CVAxA3o__GLdm3IrVFsCEZX8DnFMDexi4rvjjkhZZ0TnK13yTffb7xmG-0TAs8nauxL8f20gA86lMpwvastygFV9ZgJTw4nu4r-P7T2Mx-bXEzRbICkyZttPMTM3aatkTJtLg_pA0-A/s320/CIMG3570.JPG" /></p><br /><p>On the way home, we found an awesome bluebonnet field, where we got the picture at the top of the blog (obviously). We were lucky to get just one picture--the kids weren't really enthused about photography. We got a couple good shots, and then had to convince them there was a bunny hiding in the flowers to make them look interested.</p><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6TLkrrJuxJdw-kQbdmgD_9-eVBpgVbkvnOE_074zRh_Mz67X-Dqwljy9CId3tKRygjrqLAzfydYBloFQctfy8dnKT8N4hiDIhrZuOZ5Djef69_kNK7kNCGDN0Q28DaceHcTP88UWo1L0/s1600/CIMG3575.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600104352824781602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6TLkrrJuxJdw-kQbdmgD_9-eVBpgVbkvnOE_074zRh_Mz67X-Dqwljy9CId3tKRygjrqLAzfydYBloFQctfy8dnKT8N4hiDIhrZuOZ5Djef69_kNK7kNCGDN0Q28DaceHcTP88UWo1L0/s320/CIMG3575.JPG" /></a></p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600104343444170242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKRVxGWcfLgRkIlZjUuyTC0qC1mZWzlVzveKBsNnw8rwnUVfVgiNFe11QX3qimeVURmO1bJtKb4-tWs2q8lVrv01ViEyrTbLn1LrOdaB8HQhXbzOZVZyxULyv02_hy_SvenLTHGImI1r8/s320/CIMG3583.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600104336458226850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH-pEoXhUwjP5Ac1JHS2BvTreG11_njGtJlTh3RS6txgB748BSjZrLCfIkFGI94x7QoBlym3vSS1QbmhrvLxhLzfjpjhmbFbdpPv8yGkZTGmR8diegzSnNKZYxhJIpqtnvHv91PrtDbco/s320/CIMG3581.JPG" /><br />Grandma sent the kids a box full of Easter-y goodies. Including an outfit with matching hat (guess which part was Lily's favorite), and some punch balloons. The balloons were an instant hit:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguYw-Gj4C50V4is1o8l4_35P0oV1vm_xnZ_TCFm4v0TE3ckZsKEL2UPHKCW5tGeLJEeu0sJy3O-ofxR7qvXp6ubh7WNIvho3Z85TX4UivTFHev26noEM8q6859iUkMewnzdONyc3qfu2U/s1600/CIMG3608.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600104346562346306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguYw-Gj4C50V4is1o8l4_35P0oV1vm_xnZ_TCFm4v0TE3ckZsKEL2UPHKCW5tGeLJEeu0sJy3O-ofxR7qvXp6ubh7WNIvho3Z85TX4UivTFHev26noEM8q6859iUkMewnzdONyc3qfu2U/s320/CIMG3608.JPG" /></a> <br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600102354763054226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBLDpnYJy8Dgu0C2zqRuekecA28vJ2XUcwUNGtVartSg1vZbabrJNciNL9yI9G43iwF2kfbsSXVhzwlil-FvHwu7cKaUF7yrivqJhU9Q2xrsO7c-jkK1wSR5wY_iJ1zEEtiwI52mmKUFs/s320/CIMG3606.JPG" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7R-fRGYMypSsKze-_tznj05gGvOdu2NrXaVMuEA8R8A-EpZxTAO_owdm2oMxIKxGq92_PqusX75JA91YtYXiUb3sECiUkRlwCCR9K7n_lFostRAIgV1cgSvI0NnlnhhEF6OYTJK0yuNQ/s1600/CIMG3590.JPG"></a> My college roommate Laura and her family came to visit from Illinois. They didn't come to visit me, necessarily, but since they were only an hour away visiting Laura's sister Shawna and her new baby Trey, we spent some time with them. We went to a community easter egg hunt, which was fun--if a bit hot and humid. I was careful not to point out that there was candy in the eggs until the hunt was over--otherwise I'm sure they would have stopped after the first egg!<br /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600102341992274946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgU_BpJaCt7k2VeFsQv8s-c53gON1tzFMDL7fs1F2zaaaKBYrsrKhQUA5DdL1d7Ng9FxFKBT-eC1tgPLHALqtnCqQl9Y3iCrKBsDZlYeG7iA_MXRh3q9Z2AAdEj7zhaxrXfUiSpELGx1E/s320/CIMG3600.JPG" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj0FT16GkOS0GULsQ1Y6gb8cipf_ZkGsvwB6fJ1Eh1LIirQiNcDQJv_Og3mo1BZU5R4UIxhVcoacgHhcCRU9U7Zmvo-OKW408LQjgP24AndKMAj3r_QBJjZDYzfmK5OVxQkjpeyYgu9UA/s1600/CIMG3603.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600102348697753778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj0FT16GkOS0GULsQ1Y6gb8cipf_ZkGsvwB6fJ1Eh1LIirQiNcDQJv_Og3mo1BZU5R4UIxhVcoacgHhcCRU9U7Zmvo-OKW408LQjgP24AndKMAj3r_QBJjZDYzfmK5OVxQkjpeyYgu9UA/s320/CIMG3603.JPG" /></a></div></div></div></div></div>Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-82029252905514653772011-04-19T21:15:00.003-05:002011-04-25T00:01:43.560-05:00toddlerismsOkay, I gotta write down some things before I forget them:<br /><br />-----------<br /><br />We have a couple of "boo-boo bunnies" --cloth ice cube holders for putting on ouchies. Back in my naive, early-mom days, I thought that we'd be using them all the time by now, but I was wrong. Ever tried to get a toddler to hold an ice pack to a boo-boo? It doesn't happen. They want to hold it and play with it, and leave it somewhere for the dog to chew its ears off. But we're getting there, so when Noah fell the other day and hit his ear hard enough against the railing of the porch that it began to swell, I got out the bunny. <br /><br />Noah wasn't all too interested in holding it to his ear, as usual. But Lily was fiercely jealous, and started demanding, "Boo-boo baa-ey! Boo-boo baa-ey!" I told her she could have the bunny sometime later, when she got a boo-boo. <br /><br />Hearing this, Lily sprang up from the porch step, ran over to the railing, and bashed her head (gently, but with gusto) against the wood. The look on her face as she braced for impact is something I hope I remember forever. She was none too pleased when I still denied her the bunny, even after such self-sacrifice!<br /><br />------------<br /><br />Both kids want to be just like us, and that is especially true of Daddy. Since he has been exercising a lot at home lately, they have seen him do a lot of workouts at home. Watching Noah try and jump over a jumprope is completely hysterical--not only can he not jump, but he can't begin to swing the rope. He just sort of spasms, and giggles about it. Lily is more interested in lying on the exercise mat and doing "crunches". Or something. She makes a big show about sitting down, and then lifts her legs in the air over and over. Sometimes she gets up and sits back down again to start over, for good measure.<br /><br />------------<br /><br />Lily has been very interested in identifying emotions these days, particularly "happy" and "sad". Recently Noah's Elmo cup has had to go to time out during dinner, since he keeps sticking his fork into the straw. One of these times, I pointed to Elmo on the cup and said, "Look--you made Elmo sad, because he's in time out." Both kids stared doubtfully at the obvious grin on Elmo's face, and Lily protested, "Ehmo 'appy!" <br /><br />"No, no," I said. "Elmo is said, because he's in time out."<br /><br />She looked at me, then at Elmo. Then she blew a kiss toward the cup and said, "Ehmo 'appy!"<br /><br />------------<br /><br />At bedtime, Noah and Lily wear pull-ups. Noah's have two varieties based on the movie Cars--one just has Lightning McQueen, and one has both McQueen and 'Mater the tow truck. Owing, I suppose, to his love of trucks, he refuses to wear the ones that only have a car on them. Since we have about 30 of them, I keep trying to trick him into wearing them by just having him put a pair on without pointing out the picture. He is ever-vigilant though, and always checks for the requisite truck. If there is only a car, he says "Uh-oh!" very importantly, like he's discovered some huge oversight. Then he runs to the drawer of pull-ups and rummages around until he finds the kind he wants. "There!" he says, very satisfied with himself for having corrected such a terrible error.<br /><br />------------<br /><br />Tonight we played outside after dinner until bath time. Lily wet her pants just before we came inside, so we took them off when we came in. I then announced that it was time to take a bath, and Lily went running off in the direction of the bathroom with more than the usual excitement. <br /><br />A minute later, as I was trying to herd Noah toward the tub as well, I heard anguished cries coming from down the hall. I went to the bathroom, which was dark, and flipped on the light. The ensuing sight was a bit of a shock--Lily had bent herself headfirst into the tub and gotten stuck. Her feet dangled barely off the floor, with her bare bottom (etc.) in prominent view. I had to leave her there long enough to run and grab the camera, even though I obviously can't share the picture outside the immediate family! She's going to hate me for that one in a few years...Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-62735446683141401382011-04-16T23:21:00.006-05:002011-04-17T00:22:06.871-05:00at the jumping-off placeWell, it's official. We are moving to Bastrop. </br><br><br />It sounds sudden when I put it like that, but it's been in the works at some level for a long time. When Scott and I first got married, we planned and daydreamed where we might settle down someday, and Bastrop was on our short list. It's half an hour outside of Austin, in the middle of a randomly beautiful piece of Texas covered with hills and pine trees. It's decently close to Scott's parents, and it's close enough to Austin that Scott can attend trainings and possibly move into a different position in DPS without relocating the family. </br><br><br />So it's been in the plans for a while. Choosing the timing has been a bit tricky, but the plain truth is that we're outgrowing our house. We're going to have to upsize before too long anyway. </br><br><br />And there it is. I can tell you the reasons why. I can spell them out logically, and it all makes sense. </br><br><br />And in the grander scheme of things, I'm happy and excited. But in the day-to-day steps of making it all happen, our lofty goals are foggy and unclear in my view. The future is out there, but I don't know what it looks like. Much more real are the steps of extricating myself from the life we've built here. Getting our house ready to sell. Looking for a new job. Pulling those lofty reasons back out of the fog to show them to our friends and explain why we're leaving, over and over and over again. It makes me tired and it feels strange. Sometimes, like right now I find myself waiting to wake up from this weird dream. (Denial beats keeping my house squeaky-clean for showings, anyway.) </br><br><br />Ah, I probably sound depressed. I'm not. This move is something we've worked for, prayed about, and looked forward to for a long time. But "someday" and "today" are two very different things, and I'm not always the greatest with change. (Last night I realized that one of the "newer" t-shirts in my pajama rotation is 12 years old.) And beyond just change, uncertainty is pretty much terrible. I like being able to think a couple months ahead and know approximately what the horizon will look like. Once time passes and a few more things get figured out, I'll be able to rest a bit easier. Until then, I just need to have a little patience and a little faith.Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-11629092549415700192011-03-21T20:39:00.004-05:002011-03-22T23:40:45.186-05:00on the twelfth day of potty training...So... potty training. For anyone interested in our progress, here is a rundown of things so far:<br /><div><div><ol><li>I can sing any and all lyrics to songs from "Elmo's Potty Time". Some of the songs about perseverence, I'm convinced, were written to parents rather than two-year-olds.</li><li>We have gone through two containers of Clorox wipes, a roll and a half of toilet paper, daily loads of laundry, and 38, 424 toilet flushes. I'm a bit scared to see our water bill this month.</li><li>Teaching your toddlers to "stand on their heads" (with feet still on the ground) is VERY helpful when wiping little bottoms. </li><li>From its association with dozens of accidents, I now have PTSD from the word "Uh-oh!" Full-on flashbacks, hypervigilance, irritability, and bad dreams.</li></ol><p>In short, potty training hasn't gone <em>exactly</em> as I had planned. (Me and my nice, planned, perfect world--why won't real life cooperate?) To be fair, Lily has done pretty well. A few days ago she had an accident-free day, and today she had only one accident. But then, she loves praise and encouragement (and candy), and hates to do things wrong or get into trouble. </p><p>Noah, on the other hand, has decided that right NOW would be a great time to start the terrible twos in full force. Tell him to do something--ANYthing--and he won't. Won't, won't, WON'T!! And he'll have a grand time just staring at you, willing you to make him do it. Applied to peeing in the potty, this translates to... well, accidents. Or purpose-ents, or something. Because the kid KNOWS what it feels like when he has to go, and he just refuses. And you can lead a kid to the potty (and hold him down), but you just can't make him pee.</p><p>Anyway, that's enough potty talk for now. I have a couple more tricks up my sleeve and if those don't work... well, I don't know many adults who wear diapers. He'll probably learn eventually. Until then, I'm going to be severely jealous of any parent I see with kids in diapers.</p><p>The visit with my parents was fun--true to form, I didn't take very many pictures. At least events this week weren't exactly photogenic anyway.</p><p>Grandpa loves grapefruit. The kids were fascinated, until they tried some...</p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586721234330737858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbwjx6fTvNJH63dRE6eqotIAmZdZafiBxR-B60aNL8EfqOtUwtcEquclcKNNaD4ZbeqUjfquyB0teKB4yiVl4nE9ga5Kff589OWds5KBm-PvC97pH2as3vDftIzXx9AnTjMW4hg70MjIc/s320/CIMG0340.JPG" /></div><div> </div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586721234970156418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2LX_uO208dl0F13dX2F63cgtwrAGnbdr8YSCv4o2wQmI8yOyY2JJU4Kbb6WjM4Kyc14z5rCLdRgE6auuZERf179fPByLqx7lXL0zGUt45xdvNRjnFodFM6rCYr90fux-YILjtSZEuR5Q/s320/CIMG0343.JPG" /></div><div> </div><div>A much bigger hit were the purple-icing-coated cupcakes that my mom brought home one day. They were decorated with Dora the Explorer, and since that particular cartoon creation is the subject of Lily's current frenzied obsession, she thought they would make a nice celebratory dessert. They were also extraordinarily messy.</div><div> </div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586723462829866626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmWaS9f3uNEuRoJZtdTNuvug30ckYHsJy79i1ZfBQZJw7SHpBRULt0m3hzL6oPFtM3XSyYx6ydVsbt8hOd5if5Oe-tr4XZr_zXXaLNfY8pnsucMDEIB3meulmyHlyO3YYv-fzH1ZDNGjA/s320/CIMG0355.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586723468782395346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRZvfFJl6n1jlOsCdSUq_qW_lwEgDZNcKjgkM5fI8G4icbO9G5bNnG-J3vtRk4mz7pzmMPJhOpeN_A-ed7XQnLRpSi8A1xjNwGOotcw3m7gj8a5d8Cdyfd3NWSBdwkYIEjCQv5tWymcBo/s320/CIMG0365.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586723473226281138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqW_Qy6CrR5EQY447LqmwHkMpdw6AGneztzy8i9aL_RGFQAX9DQCmt9zCRvOQz_AJS5pfBnFC9D4uDGBFgnnwdQlgkoZZZjJnMlCT1fogvvlEbifPCwO2E46DhEtJCsjqKJB4MNHON38g/s320/CIMG0367.JPG" /><br /><p>It would have been nice if they could have pooped purple or something exciting like that, but I was again disappointed.</p></div></div>Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-55776253621852100752011-03-13T14:36:00.006-05:002011-03-13T15:24:59.745-05:00all aboard the potty trainWell, we've taken the plunge. "Diaper" is now a dirty word around the Hewitt house.<br /><br />With spring break on the horizon and my mom coming to stay for a week and a half, we decided it was time to tackle the dreaded "P" word and get potty training over with, once and for all. I had planned this for months--I did lots of reading, bought training pants, and got plenty of pull-ups ready for naptime and bedtime. When I told people our plans, the response was almost universally skeptical, but I persisted.<br /><br />"What if they're not ready?" people would say.<br /><br />"But they ARE ready," I would say.<br /><br />"What if they don't want to do it?" they would ask.<br /><br />"They WILL do it," I would answer.<br /><br />"Both of them at the same time?" they would question.<br /><br />"Of course! They'll learn from each other," I would reason.<br /><br />"Are you sure they're old enough?" they would say.<br /><br />"SURE, they're old enough. We're going to do this!" I would assure them.<br /><br />After all, they're almost two years old, I told myself. My mom potty trained me and my siblings by the time we were two. LOTS of kids are trained at this age. And we are all completely sick and tired of diaper rash. So what if there are two of them? It may be twice as messy, but we'll figure it out. They know how to say "tee-tee", "poo-poo" and "yay!" --what else do you need to know? We're set!<br /><br />My mountain of confidence lasted about two hours into the first potty training day. After several glasses of juice, a dozen accidents, and the worst meltdown I'd seen from Noah in a long time, I was ready to throw in the pee-soaked towel and admit defeat. My careful plans and charts I'd made were abandoned. Noah was such a basket-case I ended up putting a diaper back on him. Thank goodness for Grandma, who calmed me down and convinced me to give it a little more time.<br /><br />So after a little while, I took off Noah's diaper and held him down on the potty for a few minutes as he screamed and fought and....FINALLY went tee-tee in spite of himself. He immediately looked down, surprised, and seemed short of shocked and relieved that he hadn't self-destructed. Half an hour later, he sat calmly as he relieved himself, then clapped his hands and shouted, "Yay!" as he gleefully accepted his candy reward. It's amazing what changes an hour or two can bring!<br /><br />And Lily, bless her juice-guzzling little heart, had more accidents than successes that first day--despite her apparent understanding of the whole potty process. But she's gradually done better and better too.<br /><br />As for myself, I'm still terrified to leave the house with them and I'm not sure how complete their training will be by the end of this week, when I go back to work and real life resumes. But I find myself so proud of them that I can't help but think they may continue to surprise me.<br /><br />...and I'm really, REALLY glad we have tile floors now. Can't even tell you how glad.<br /><br /><br /><br />Watching their hero Elmo talk about using the potty:<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_PHueU3WsxRWJyeL4zBGPs4zyaccmlougkvMX5l99VYhm4imIhdckbnZS7QhL5gH2cvMlRGbGrarqhYIhtSD2VEu5SBcSZfrOQGUaMR90Oo59DtKRWmr3XGeWMbW7JYz2Dm7iKi9QzvI/s1600/CIMG3546.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583652810893702082" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_PHueU3WsxRWJyeL4zBGPs4zyaccmlougkvMX5l99VYhm4imIhdckbnZS7QhL5gH2cvMlRGbGrarqhYIhtSD2VEu5SBcSZfrOQGUaMR90Oo59DtKRWmr3XGeWMbW7JYz2Dm7iKi9QzvI/s320/CIMG3546.JPG" /></a>Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-81278526069156437352011-03-07T23:51:00.002-06:002011-03-08T00:17:40.474-06:00take a picture; it'll last longerI will readily admit that I'm terrible at taking pictures. I'm a bit better at taking pictures of the twins than of other people and phases in my life, but ...well, not much. When we're with other people, I tend to be reminded to pull out my camera after other folks have already been snapping pictures for a while. (And shamelessly mooch their pictures later!) Even when something cool is going on, it just rarely strikes me to pull out a camera to capture it.<br /><br />Part of it is that I'm scattered. I just am. I do well to remember my own name sometimes, let alone to snap a bunch of photos when I'm trying to keep track of two zoomy little toddlers. <br /><br />But part of it, I think, is that it's just not that rewarding to take pictures. It's not positively reinforcing, to put it behaviorally. I can't take pictures of the things I really want to remember, the things I enjoy most. Like the way I can turn an anguished cry of <em>"Boo-boo!" </em>into a satisfied sigh with a simple kiss--dozens of times a day. And the willingness with which two tiny hands grab my fingers at my command, ready to follow me anywhere. The way it feels when Lily finally settles before her nap, nuzzling into my neck while I run my fingers through her hair. The way I can tell from across the house what my kids are doing (and whether they shouldn't be). The satisfaction in Noah's face when I've finally figured out what "Da!" means in a particular situation, after he's repeated himself 20 times. <br /><br />They told me to make sure I had a good photographer at our wedding, because after a while that's all you remember--just what's in the pictures. And it's true, really. Two weeks after the event, I couldn't remember what song I had picked for the end of the ceremony--and I had <em>agonized</em> over it for months. My memories now run like a flipbook that mysteriously resembles the wedding album on the bookshelf. <br /><br />But there is no good photographer here, and even if there were it wouldn't matter. There's just no way to capture the things I want to hold onto forever. Even the things I do remember will become grainy and distorted with time. It makes me a bit sad, like I'm constantly saying goodbye to two tiny people as they constantly get replaced by two slightly less-tiny people. And I know I will love the next stage as much as I have loved this one, and the stages before it, and even my life before them. I think I just have this impossible wish to hold onto everything wonderful my life has ever held, and never let anything go.Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-23158151616936320892011-02-24T16:17:00.002-06:002011-02-24T16:25:55.701-06:00rite of poopageWell, it has happened. I have passed a threshold, crossed a bridge.<br /><br />I expected it to happen before this, really. Talked to other parents who'd been through it before, and knew my day would come. Expected it. Feared it. <br /><br />Today, Noah woke up from his nap and started to cry and fuss in his usual way. Sometimes he falls back asleep though, so I wasn't in a hurry to go get him. But after a few minutes his cry reached a desperation pitch and I knew naptime was officially over. So I went in to get him out of his tent--a pack-n-play sort of thing that's a lot less headache than an actual pack-n-play.<br /><br />As I went in, I realized that Noah was trying to say something. Boo-boo? How did he get a boo-boo? I could see his tear-streaked face pushing through the mesh of the tent. So I unzipped it.<br /><br />The situation dawned on me in pieces. First, I realized his diaper was babyless, lying on the tent mattress. Was he trying to say "diaper"? He kept crying, and I still thought he might be hurt.<br /><br />Until I saw his hand, clutching a rather large (and luckily, rather solid) turd. He was holding his poop <em>in his hand.</em> He was saying "poo-poo", not "boo-boo"! I ALMOST almost took a picture of him sitting there, crying pathetically, clutching his poo. But finding the camera was a tall order when I was laughing too hard to see straight anyway.<br /><br />I gingerly helped him down, helped him throw his creation in the toilet, and we both scrubbed our hands thoroughly. Then, realizing that he had residue all over his bottom and legs, I decided that a bath was in order and plunked him directly into the tub. Somehow even though I was being careful. I still managed to get poo on both my pants and shirt.<br /><br />I'm not sure how he didn't make an even bigger mess--there was some poo on the sheet, but none on his pillow or the insides of the tent! Mommy's learned her lesson though, and never again will Noah take a nap without pants.Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-91269691003046837772011-02-21T19:44:00.006-06:002011-02-21T20:33:32.692-06:00the icecapades and beyondIt's one of those times when I feel I should chronicle some things. Not because I don't have enough to do or because it's anything exciting enough to share, but a monthish has passed in a blur and I really want to figure out where it went. So let's see, what have we been up to...<br /><br />1. We lived through horrible winter weather. Superbowl week will now forever remind me of nasty ice and freezing winds. On the night of Monday, January 31, the temperatures dropped dramatically and freezing rain began falling. By the end of things, about an inch of ice and a couple inches of snow covered everything in sight. School was closed for four days, because the weather stayed below freezing and there weren't enough ice and salt trucks to make it around to everyone. It was the coldest weather northern Texas has seen in 15 years, the news said.<br /><br />What made it even more exciting was that our power (including our heat and hot water) went out. For nine hours one day, and four hours the next. Our firewood was outside, frozen solidly to the ground. Our kitchen pipes froze for 2 days. Oh, and Scott was working 13+ hours a day in Arlington to deal with the Superbowl traffic. Thankfully, the roads started clearing enough for us to leave a little and the power came back on for the nighttime... but it was still a long, long day.<br /><br />In lighter news, the kiddos braved the zero-degree windchill to play in the snow for about 5 minutes. Lily was pretty cool with it. Here she is trying to climb up the slide that had about 3 inches of solid snow and ice packed onto it:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir21LKrSXwklWCztI4vGPAnnJ4yMvGSxj89n4qoi07hkxj9mY-Z_FaMqIzU3EAFjIt8BOa3B5lHnlv7OUzm1tk09Ws0hw-LuNUizPMC5rv062qwRxCGGMFJMlZlPaqM3C7bT4fbOfvs50/s1600/CIMG3508.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576328988034142290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir21LKrSXwklWCztI4vGPAnnJ4yMvGSxj89n4qoi07hkxj9mY-Z_FaMqIzU3EAFjIt8BOa3B5lHnlv7OUzm1tk09Ws0hw-LuNUizPMC5rv062qwRxCGGMFJMlZlPaqM3C7bT4fbOfvs50/s320/CIMG3508.JPG" /></a><br />(She failed.)<br /><br />Noah was not as convinced that snow and cold are good things. Perhaps he was mourning the absence of his missing tiger mitten...<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimt5jgTEuoS5tSdUwFi8Ls-pk1cMKxe2an73tVXTF4Y7pvACb3OqmTR700tubh5kI2DdhG_L3hGwWp6XRSDRDqsE_djmNLrIL-5LpQUITiM9-4A-vZSF78pnsp1NoETsGUOMhG0GZ38tI/s1600/CIMG3507.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576328983329364802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimt5jgTEuoS5tSdUwFi8Ls-pk1cMKxe2an73tVXTF4Y7pvACb3OqmTR700tubh5kI2DdhG_L3hGwWp6XRSDRDqsE_djmNLrIL-5LpQUITiM9-4A-vZSF78pnsp1NoETsGUOMhG0GZ38tI/s320/CIMG3507.JPG" /></a></div><div>2. We have been sick. Nothing major, but what I thought was going to be a fairly forgiving cold season has turned out to be kind of horrible. From mid-December through Valentine's Day, it was hard to tell where one cold stopped and the next one started. Next year I'm buying stock in Kleenex. The twins are so used to having their little snotmakers wiped that they'll attempt to blow their nose on anything resembling a tissue. I turned around one day to see them raiding the napkins...<br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576327270072312274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdoJFVz0qyjwd9iCmooAF4DL6LVb5KmEzjOxWfSrX5pWXGPyjKC5NW4ZeIckY7KgYxXzpD8lWGmBYtV9yYBiwipxqcVDWeMocixhZ2LyZtT9v4FHt2cWFghzvBJrW0KWWVpOjIlmXAm8M/s320/CIMG3483.JPG" /></div><div>3. We went to Bastrop. Literally just a few days after the horribly cold temperatures, things warmed up to the 70s. We spent the weekend at the cabin in Bastrop with Brad, Becca, and Elijah, with a visit from Gemma and Granddad.</div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIZXqzsIwsaPDyBUnxi06VmhAqQ-7rc4u6_DqkCnB2CsKuClWgQyzZ6UdtEBclucc0zEhzQMooxFPO40lK-_5LBKzjYrRpU9S7LhLo66k4dMWapYP9WeEUk3mYq1wFSudO6PFgp3j2trE/s1600/CIMG3517.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576327278084664306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIZXqzsIwsaPDyBUnxi06VmhAqQ-7rc4u6_DqkCnB2CsKuClWgQyzZ6UdtEBclucc0zEhzQMooxFPO40lK-_5LBKzjYrRpU9S7LhLo66k4dMWapYP9WeEUk3mYq1wFSudO6PFgp3j2trE/s320/CIMG3517.JPG" /></a><br /><div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576325107651927842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4D3YIIae_0KBypsOVGcMs6ejF9abqM2jSKkcV4QoQgD9jeiaRbHe2-o784y0qnRmCTz5wzuy4ZWJwoUrNKrs-D6gINmnrfFCNjfPLl4_XuPNQMMfhI7Ei0O0DsveGR1IzsJ5RMbTdjbQ/s320/CIMG3524.JPG" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4IkHXx3jwBJ7MmAdI0hPSVHK9sMb3Oz9EChumIlS_Ciy_0S6VIoxg1Qp_HWK0_rleCc_pQkv5fHET9CAyahdgzXf2kJcoG4b4uqAMekEOUYFm6xp4snOJ9N-uOKnNfaxMUsMtNUz7S4o/s1600/CIMG3521.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576327272800202034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4IkHXx3jwBJ7MmAdI0hPSVHK9sMb3Oz9EChumIlS_Ciy_0S6VIoxg1Qp_HWK0_rleCc_pQkv5fHET9CAyahdgzXf2kJcoG4b4uqAMekEOUYFm6xp4snOJ9N-uOKnNfaxMUsMtNUz7S4o/s320/CIMG3521.JPG" /></a><br />4. Lily got her first (semi-) black eye. It was very un-dramatic though. She was climbing up on some playground equipment, stumbled, and fell about 12 inches into a metal bar. It's hard to tell in the pictures, but it looked pretty spectacular for awhile.<br /><br /><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaqzjO9ltGfOGhaGstEVlAVH85coQcuOmArybOvbqqs-N9GUfO0-huEmWzk1VKLoBv1hHWPQ75wQoQFR5ORpu1PfvqsysTH9cn6Xo1TQQN4etMFVMhLCAwnEQaL_PVBjWMCm90JN7iJR4/s1600/CIMG3523.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576327264978976018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaqzjO9ltGfOGhaGstEVlAVH85coQcuOmArybOvbqqs-N9GUfO0-huEmWzk1VKLoBv1hHWPQ75wQoQFR5ORpu1PfvqsysTH9cn6Xo1TQQN4etMFVMhLCAwnEQaL_PVBjWMCm90JN7iJR4/s320/CIMG3523.JPG" /></a><br /><div><div>5. We have enjoyed more warm weather. And especially after that terrible cold week at the end of winter, it's been just incredible to spend a lot of time outdoors. Noah and Lily LOVE being outside (as most kids do) and they can be happy doing just about anything. Their sidewalk chalk skills are a little better developed this year:<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhg1elyhyphenhyphen024I8b9nt0TtnS9uzAOODHSgic1EpF_TiH-VPkKiLsVc1Rc9bBIFThwL0hKeNBLJX72vyhpG6RWQN01z9_uDCaO3UuaPc-zHCWHg4opAOY5zp0PapfP3EHnuq2xIR-F0SkFY/s1600/CIMG3530.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576325099463388514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhg1elyhyphenhyphen024I8b9nt0TtnS9uzAOODHSgic1EpF_TiH-VPkKiLsVc1Rc9bBIFThwL0hKeNBLJX72vyhpG6RWQN01z9_uDCaO3UuaPc-zHCWHg4opAOY5zp0PapfP3EHnuq2xIR-F0SkFY/s320/CIMG3530.JPG" /></a> Noah was very concerned about the broken pieces of chalk. He also thinks that everything pink is "Nee-nee's"<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghE1ejG8QaALAccgunc_k7fFrQmj5QDz_hv4AwFSw9b0ePyRLZ_JnP-TH4eplL5M_4niXgqJ-I1Zv-f6WdPiRb9eyxoPAxYLJJhYav8LR9o9Yr0adgZAXVrrhU_Lgm4zyDgMPIPYminSA/s1600/CIMG3531.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576325102972032626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghE1ejG8QaALAccgunc_k7fFrQmj5QDz_hv4AwFSw9b0ePyRLZ_JnP-TH4eplL5M_4niXgqJ-I1Zv-f6WdPiRb9eyxoPAxYLJJhYav8LR9o9Yr0adgZAXVrrhU_Lgm4zyDgMPIPYminSA/s320/CIMG3531.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_X-pF0elzAi-FJl7W7vDurt65zteKs4rfLKgs6DbkaBx13xPf-jdX8W5T0AFmklbwcA92Y3X4wdMvgZIhOE5dLg58_qB2w2jU1UW7XBLvgkY7wkjOjKlbsNTTnuCq-ABWM5tzNCvCm_g/s1600/CIMG3533.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576325092816614162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_X-pF0elzAi-FJl7W7vDurt65zteKs4rfLKgs6DbkaBx13xPf-jdX8W5T0AFmklbwcA92Y3X4wdMvgZIhOE5dLg58_qB2w2jU1UW7XBLvgkY7wkjOjKlbsNTTnuCq-ABWM5tzNCvCm_g/s320/CIMG3533.JPG" /></a> </div><div>6. We are putting down tile. What an undertaking! Scott is doing most/all of the actual tile-laying work, but I feel like I've been running a marathon for the past few days too. We're tiling about 2/3 of our house, including the living room/entry, kitchen, hallway, and bathrooms. That's pretty much everywhere we go all day, so there's a lot of furniture to move. And with little (hyperactive, defiant) toddlers, you can't just pile all the furniture in the other rooms and expect them to be happy twiddling their thumbs in their cribs all day. (But wow, wouldn't that be nice?!) So I've been busy organizing, cleaning, and rearranging our "office" into a play room area. We've always stuck everything in the office that we didn't want to deal with, so to tackle a whole roomful of procrastination was ... well, not fun. I pretty much stink at organizing and cleaning things out, so it was kind of torturous. But it is done and the kids have had a place to play as the rest of the house has been uprooted. And looking at all the hard work Scott has had to put in so far, I still feel like I've come out ahead... :)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-4220404167024856622011-01-24T13:50:00.008-06:002011-01-26T22:18:49.968-06:00madcap recapAnnnnd it's catch-up time again here on the Hewitt blog. Rather than try to sum up our lives in the past month and a half, I'll rely on pictures...<br /><br />When we were down in Beevile just before Christmas, Grandad built the twins a swing. Lily loves swinging so much that she can barely stand it when they come up in conversation.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQEoBTrZPIZted6AQiuxB2gbVmb0aW86e94kXAwIVAa1G6ozD_gUY10gChJTWsDekZ9mYynFqtnDZR-FXVfam7Fmy9ybjvCeSfaEeaRX0tI4ByZM2aa34Kq4pYPIY4niQ0ac1xeON337s/s1600/DSC00677.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566702902219526034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQEoBTrZPIZted6AQiuxB2gbVmb0aW86e94kXAwIVAa1G6ozD_gUY10gChJTWsDekZ9mYynFqtnDZR-FXVfam7Fmy9ybjvCeSfaEeaRX0tI4ByZM2aa34Kq4pYPIY4niQ0ac1xeON337s/s320/DSC00677.JPG" /></a> Noah opted for a stroll--er, crawl--along the boards Grandad stacked for him to play on.<br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566701466875888642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9R8Y0ssx0caeavFMKzWmOPRKkd3xR21mR5Hn3IGQfgIKamuVSHkM8BcOKJtR9LaWt1KwPlJDm8U_M1lovFVLe19aHMn48RGkQn1u1xR-yKt5P-v_0WEWyGNEXM2ifql3GsQW-w0VPG7I/s320/DSC00686.JPG" /></div><div> </div><div>Gemma, Noah, and cousin Elijah</div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZLLlt8-lW0KIZrrP2Eg9MO_PfaPhRXaDcc_Ec4UUOktIkRGcRzCvjVa7CqSWXPp-AzY6t7s082n_DlDLabs5byDcRfNsvYdm7HKoVNocIKdu60qlIHljW1kK5ejFeiz_gYwh6LD8yNfY/s1600/DSC00613.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566702898196103058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZLLlt8-lW0KIZrrP2Eg9MO_PfaPhRXaDcc_Ec4UUOktIkRGcRzCvjVa7CqSWXPp-AzY6t7s082n_DlDLabs5byDcRfNsvYdm7HKoVNocIKdu60qlIHljW1kK5ejFeiz_gYwh6LD8yNfY/s320/DSC00613.JPG" /></a><br /><div>Some of the Christmas takings...<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYC1Qf8BTroSOqI1rX1OiWNGA2okRMKsfH26hf7GeecFB3zs2kJFeJBip7bvGMpNZDY0iHhDXQ-1UcJsFGInmypG6KMNEI9D1opQPWgQnRiY6wZ8GO0rOOYUHm94gX1UGfrneQEssR6nI/s1600/DSC00503.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566701463280990946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYC1Qf8BTroSOqI1rX1OiWNGA2okRMKsfH26hf7GeecFB3zs2kJFeJBip7bvGMpNZDY0iHhDXQ-1UcJsFGInmypG6KMNEI9D1opQPWgQnRiY6wZ8GO0rOOYUHm94gX1UGfrneQEssR6nI/s320/DSC00503.JPG" /></a><br />Elijah, practicing his Texish:<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA3UaX-BnM5-y0srQQw4o0Vt4mukbjf0F3-pV0eEmcjiwn68Olxx0BCU6-7bSNUUHBVrl6yJAg43RccpbRgBgxkBArgyrs3O2xvi_bz6KgCEo6ywEKuaCHXFje4c1KqL-iQDs6cmfq_5k/s1600/DSC00437.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565849382651875394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA3UaX-BnM5-y0srQQw4o0Vt4mukbjf0F3-pV0eEmcjiwn68Olxx0BCU6-7bSNUUHBVrl6yJAg43RccpbRgBgxkBArgyrs3O2xvi_bz6KgCEo6ywEKuaCHXFje4c1KqL-iQDs6cmfq_5k/s320/DSC00437.JPG" /></a><br />Standing around while Christmas tree shopping, and the salesperson just happened to snap a picture...<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzZvnfRGZuO4YVCAwQrwoWpOcJgB95ATIc1DHGUDTm_P0FuTUTzPK_hKqTt1Y3yMZNr9fmbciJeeOdWQ4QD8CSw8R09sCB8B5LiL3j0OZNF71ZGXWwrAapSat6t0YA_ldPRQHSTPxZL0o/s1600/DSC00419.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565849377204437490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzZvnfRGZuO4YVCAwQrwoWpOcJgB95ATIc1DHGUDTm_P0FuTUTzPK_hKqTt1Y3yMZNr9fmbciJeeOdWQ4QD8CSw8R09sCB8B5LiL3j0OZNF71ZGXWwrAapSat6t0YA_ldPRQHSTPxZL0o/s320/DSC00419.JPG" /></a><br />Enjoying more Christmas spoils...<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE6y7PKyT54giTQn6tiZFx1GILqox79B13Az0uPFKMVlGiFDtTONw2gj3pqozQFo5euFn2EaF0NsG4-dW7GhOmwv7gWiN3OTMbRIpAc5heV2ha3HGDB86ZUHfWZt8DPq1eZuM8VJAxdao/s1600/DSC08532.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565847573010043058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE6y7PKyT54giTQn6tiZFx1GILqox79B13Az0uPFKMVlGiFDtTONw2gj3pqozQFo5euFn2EaF0NsG4-dW7GhOmwv7gWiN3OTMbRIpAc5heV2ha3HGDB86ZUHfWZt8DPq1eZuM8VJAxdao/s320/DSC08532.JPG" /></a><br />Noah's really good at defying gravity. Or I just don't know how to rotate a picture.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdY2mLzFKr1gs0vGwSVowdSgf4IGSKJ_TXyRxIu6HF8nbkc8P6wWHBsDE8HhJMaVvBUtjXu14XUL099QIA4sx05PfYLDlwwIwBSDwnLFD4-j_Wor1TwybqnY41KnUteUhmIvTFjUnmRmE/s1600/DSC08527.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565847563530072018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdY2mLzFKr1gs0vGwSVowdSgf4IGSKJ_TXyRxIu6HF8nbkc8P6wWHBsDE8HhJMaVvBUtjXu14XUL099QIA4sx05PfYLDlwwIwBSDwnLFD4-j_Wor1TwybqnY41KnUteUhmIvTFjUnmRmE/s320/DSC08527.JPG" /></a><br />Back at home, dressed in Christmas trappings:<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCHh2d8WDJTdkE0JVC9T4bXgLlZqgPTKLMzKIWK7Se9pUrBJ88EoHF-HNKeooxor7Mj5yyMn4A2ZGeKUPCte9TaRzTQ_HHLqXRNYNDP9sdQii2ReLL1uDcHnaMbvF757kuypRlRHSuEn8/s1600/CIMG3408.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565847558661012834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCHh2d8WDJTdkE0JVC9T4bXgLlZqgPTKLMzKIWK7Se9pUrBJ88EoHF-HNKeooxor7Mj5yyMn4A2ZGeKUPCte9TaRzTQ_HHLqXRNYNDP9sdQii2ReLL1uDcHnaMbvF757kuypRlRHSuEn8/s320/CIMG3408.JPG" /></a><br />Christmas morning festivities almost didn't make it past the stockings, once the youngun's realized there were suckers sticking out of the top. "SUCK! SUCK!" demands Lily:<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY8pflIwuITWirjxSf7X7UjOp9__wb_NoleZ9dQqPvcpjQQWPZpmNqEI_Cxj3X3Bow_DJTHKv6Ifw1e48Gx6WBnxG4B4bcpnQDEHlIOelYHJhXzXiyNWCFIqYwXVFVjt0EKq9u8aCJ0yU/s1600/CIMG3412.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565847548023152850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY8pflIwuITWirjxSf7X7UjOp9__wb_NoleZ9dQqPvcpjQQWPZpmNqEI_Cxj3X3Bow_DJTHKv6Ifw1e48Gx6WBnxG4B4bcpnQDEHlIOelYHJhXzXiyNWCFIqYwXVFVjt0EKq9u8aCJ0yU/s320/CIMG3412.JPG" /></a><br />"TEET! NAANEE!!" exclaims Noah:<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuBN7VqfgkADieIaXxUstJkmqTls5OEFlGrrC14f4686PXhH5j6NzGy3K0hCd005d1V8pNHdgLRiLPTpX_COKKS40T197K8qeo_0hpNHrf8aZppPLdwZUqvtqxHf3nk-5DNE2hoib7nIg/s1600/CIMG3413.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565847542535892674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuBN7VqfgkADieIaXxUstJkmqTls5OEFlGrrC14f4686PXhH5j6NzGy3K0hCd005d1V8pNHdgLRiLPTpX_COKKS40T197K8qeo_0hpNHrf8aZppPLdwZUqvtqxHf3nk-5DNE2hoib7nIg/s320/CIMG3413.JPG" /></a> Lily demonstrates the proper way to eat pumpkin pie: Scrape off the cool-whip, and toss the rest.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTMmtzGpuN5vJBBBHwSKrGIgh5W3Uj3CRuApjEraJ9jfh_GdK5_Kv3UJT32oJ_InzfbI7jGaOPPmujUh0kakxYrRpiUqZpZnu_iRRXoazS8iJp3H5lKdc6CEUI5c5DzLU9GTAvTL-_hY/s1600/CIMG3425.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565845891819055890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTMmtzGpuN5vJBBBHwSKrGIgh5W3Uj3CRuApjEraJ9jfh_GdK5_Kv3UJT32oJ_InzfbI7jGaOPPmujUh0kakxYrRpiUqZpZnu_iRRXoazS8iJp3H5lKdc6CEUI5c5DzLU9GTAvTL-_hY/s320/CIMG3425.JPG" /></a><br />Noah, on the other hand (literally), demonstrates his pumpkin-pie-on-a-stick technique.<br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565845829862048594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2vmWRIqR6ivPd1OI2ORYb8rh2liV42iBI-q525xodAk1MW4D4MzjS4PQaa4A1SgUNGdS33ft5_8LG1EvYWwq0_jWTFavQYUyJS4KXDx3EYmqUnL3c-mPARYqyXW07us3XtBb6uMYUoMY/s320/CIMG3419.JPG" /></div><div>This is how you do it, right?</div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzqFcIX5IEhOSptsCJjd5-ILLNwXvPcc1pMfboX08jJJrnWVWKDEBI905VENfp3MaFyKvCaFRif5cKcjtK01vWWrGYDyhsNYpBpHfACprLxLACR4uMGuHYwHCcEbDpIu-7j9zkZG-v2Fg/s1600/CIMG3417.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565845881833767906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzqFcIX5IEhOSptsCJjd5-ILLNwXvPcc1pMfboX08jJJrnWVWKDEBI905VENfp3MaFyKvCaFRif5cKcjtK01vWWrGYDyhsNYpBpHfACprLxLACR4uMGuHYwHCcEbDpIu-7j9zkZG-v2Fg/s320/CIMG3417.JPG" /></a><br />Winterwear, for the bone-chilling 50-degree weather:<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-4_buRGyphXrC6yfAnJoUm0ChIeewsUKi7DeInMUfdiB1H9wSZOTaBpxHSUZkoeLlVO1mDQZvqMBVVx3WkfD-5dwIryGf8SkhCoE8yJfqHkuiFaEalzUK5OYXygiClo1smM2dWF0XoRw/s1600/CIMG3426.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565845880977518354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-4_buRGyphXrC6yfAnJoUm0ChIeewsUKi7DeInMUfdiB1H9wSZOTaBpxHSUZkoeLlVO1mDQZvqMBVVx3WkfD-5dwIryGf8SkhCoE8yJfqHkuiFaEalzUK5OYXygiClo1smM2dWF0XoRw/s320/CIMG3426.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGQg1s87OKRsWHg4X43NnAbo4KccKSgL5ZK62iujJ4UMAGOx_2PdH2EXQxkqUMY2s7PkA32bD7VxYdw8jYHndGQVkwQu-QsvHdOrhl7lH7q4m58ofB3tKu7cNYj05-cwkF3Wxn9AgM4pM/s1600/CIMG3429.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565845876321860978" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGQg1s87OKRsWHg4X43NnAbo4KccKSgL5ZK62iujJ4UMAGOx_2PdH2EXQxkqUMY2s7PkA32bD7VxYdw8jYHndGQVkwQu-QsvHdOrhl7lH7q4m58ofB3tKu7cNYj05-cwkF3Wxn9AgM4pM/s320/CIMG3429.JPG" /></a><br />New non-infant hooded towels, which the twins call "hats". Butterfly:<br /><br /><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM7f0lw5yF11JoCcRCalB7pON4ehhN6DzyzCrS3Lv9C_zAf0Zrod6pt2hyphenhyphen3ppuTetbBflQ0LOnjTAMf0gAW7VU45OewRe7YgefLpOvOkICLHWvCJ10x1Y2dYcVaCZNjq7ihdC2kdEiJcs/s1600/CIMG3414.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565844626599785058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM7f0lw5yF11JoCcRCalB7pON4ehhN6DzyzCrS3Lv9C_zAf0Zrod6pt2hyphenhyphen3ppuTetbBflQ0LOnjTAMf0gAW7VU45OewRe7YgefLpOvOkICLHWvCJ10x1Y2dYcVaCZNjq7ihdC2kdEiJcs/s320/CIMG3414.JPG" /></a><br />...and frog:<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjSAZiCvz6CaxVI2yXM_5Ja5qdQmXK46LmSJU1hV_PKImbTb61cr3j-GKXEDDh4b2uIxHvNKE3rRkpvS6Civ1cCnlJbH8QpR3ClntRxxmETk2Ew22WtYNfGUQwDMaveAEVLfN8HrfDLvg/s1600/CIMG3415.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565844621756756034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjSAZiCvz6CaxVI2yXM_5Ja5qdQmXK46LmSJU1hV_PKImbTb61cr3j-GKXEDDh4b2uIxHvNKE3rRkpvS6Civ1cCnlJbH8QpR3ClntRxxmETk2Ew22WtYNfGUQwDMaveAEVLfN8HrfDLvg/s320/CIMG3415.JPG" /></a><br />In early January, we headed up to Michigan for my brother Michael's wedding. Contrary to my fears, the twins did really well on the plane--no freak-outs, vomiting, or other excitement for us. Mother Nature celebrated our arrival with record-breaking lake-effect snowfall. No kidding. 38 inches over three days. Early in the frozen precipitation melee, I took the kids outside for some winter revelry. We gleefully celebrated...<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJPLfHFv_jLJH54OKdgbeIcC-2Pv5RcoPXgDohl1CzSCOECMXc4LvAoyH17WhMEKZUkKGgK1NVqO92z9rw0p6c0sf9L-KfI9EROrC4VnluK9BKS9nz1zQiSTpvGhHOsvXCuQYFaXl4qU8/s1600/Snow+in+Michigan+4.bmp"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565844617521231474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJPLfHFv_jLJH54OKdgbeIcC-2Pv5RcoPXgDohl1CzSCOECMXc4LvAoyH17WhMEKZUkKGgK1NVqO92z9rw0p6c0sf9L-KfI9EROrC4VnluK9BKS9nz1zQiSTpvGhHOsvXCuQYFaXl4qU8/s320/Snow+in+Michigan+4.bmp" /></a> ...made snow angels...<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiazIMBtwRtVPDycEqgup0Ddzch6FnouCxxJm5HQqlIfkX4B0u6FzGHClTbTtLHr5CxcAIqR5jVYxVlc3VDv76x98zjw4vFhIbLtkaW1546gY_bNQtHeevkT266kSjSrOqkirQoxqI06H8/s1600/Snow+in+Michigan+3.bmp"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565844604719367314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiazIMBtwRtVPDycEqgup0Ddzch6FnouCxxJm5HQqlIfkX4B0u6FzGHClTbTtLHr5CxcAIqR5jVYxVlc3VDv76x98zjw4vFhIbLtkaW1546gY_bNQtHeevkT266kSjSrOqkirQoxqI06H8/s320/Snow+in+Michigan+3.bmp" /></a> ...and trudged around in the snow for about 3 more minutes before giving up completely. The kiddos were fascinated by the snow until they touched it, and it was COLD. <br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDyDE-R261QhFHPjknNTzgSmIR3rr7QEVheRzL0C5hyZE-eoN-53336QeeP7arHUgCYcIAnjD_boSXtVTQGD-xaKmQRmbK9Kp9h492BnshzvArjWcz0bGkfD5P9G-FxXc88h5WU__3_Sg/s1600/Snow+in+Michigan+2.bmp"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565844592728345714" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDyDE-R261QhFHPjknNTzgSmIR3rr7QEVheRzL0C5hyZE-eoN-53336QeeP7arHUgCYcIAnjD_boSXtVTQGD-xaKmQRmbK9Kp9h492BnshzvArjWcz0bGkfD5P9G-FxXc88h5WU__3_Sg/s320/Snow+in+Michigan+2.bmp" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4mccB1cnzpAx0lZsOlY3XCvSZNUUSqDBIgQ8AZB4Bbb9J4BDh27LHXdJ95g4z9icOEzhtAdUtKsgXlc1Qccs0QMIrq_W3ToxKs9eRo466hFBbICtRMkUXvi1dGBKcQR-h4yqTXM22hyI/s1600/Playing+in+snow+in+Michigan+2.jpg"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkn34A5z6s70pJwzeDfQ6_LSrp7o5dGnFALnKQ3jtirScNVag3jGIsS6JnTSYpXGnWMhDX24fgSCefrK_IxJqDG8xhADZp52zpm0g6a8YO7ZzZKqG6aftC-ubFqO4kWgqbxfFinclcJfc/s1600/Playing+in+snow+in+Michigan+1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565842576058293410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkn34A5z6s70pJwzeDfQ6_LSrp7o5dGnFALnKQ3jtirScNVag3jGIsS6JnTSYpXGnWMhDX24fgSCefrK_IxJqDG8xhADZp52zpm0g6a8YO7ZzZKqG6aftC-ubFqO4kWgqbxfFinclcJfc/s320/Playing+in+snow+in+Michigan+1.jpg" /></a> </div><div>As far as the rest of the trip (like the wedding), I am severely lacking in photographs. But it was beautiful and very happy, and we're glad we were able to go! </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9135359257508020208.post-76681990810301964822011-01-02T20:41:00.007-06:002011-01-02T21:32:09.162-06:00small wonderSo we're not really potty training at the Hewitt house, but the level of potty awareness is fairly high these days. Mostly, this means that Scott and I get applause for using the restroom, as well as a couple of eager toilet-flushing assistants. And every evening before getting into the tub, the kiddos insist on having a seat in their potty chairs and attempting to go "tee-tee".<br /><br />The results have been fairly hysterical, if a bit lackluster in the success department. Noah usually sits for about two seconds, then gets up and inspects the bowl of the potty--to no avail of course. I'm not sure how that child is ever going to have the patience to execute a complete tinkle.<br /><br />Lily, on the other hand, has had a bit more success--she's actually managed to pee in the potty several times. She seems to think that peeing involves a great deal of straining and grunting, which usually yields little but some stifled giggles from Mommy. But for the past four nights in a row, she's gotten an added bonus:<br /><br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557789174317708562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8lgESzY4BAKh-YumjggSVxXC8irsNPm89ASDneJHHUC9ZHCm3iRKuJBzyd0dr30SoM1KVOprdsnNgtjk_2AjEb9iV5wylmPnpR1MUSNE2PSAENjhyphenhyphenueo2HkiQ3tCBHWQSgtU-MDv6KkE/s320/CIMG3430.JPG" /><br /><div>At the risk of being a little too vulgar, I give you the Tiniest Turd Ever... version 4.0. She's made a similar-sized creation four nights in a row, and it's really cracking me up. Now that I know she's figured out at least <em>something</em> related to bodily functions, I need to start getting her on the toilet during her regular poo times. Too bad we're leaving for Michigan in three days... maybe once we get back, though! </div><br /><div>In completely unrelated cuteness, the babies are beginning to understand that we need to be quiet when someone is sleeping. Sort of. Mostly this involves barging into the bedroom when Daddy is asleep after working all night, pointing at him, and then spitting "SSSSCCCCHHHHH!!" as loudly as possible with a finger to their lips. <br /><br />Noah is especially aware that people's eyes are closed when they are sleeping, and that some of our favorite books feature sleeping animals and people. He points out aaaaallll the figures with closed eyes and sprays them with his "SSSSSCCCCHHH!!". Every one. Unfortunately, since mommy likes Sandra Boynton books which feature many dancing animals, and Ms. Boynton feels that animals tend to dance with their eyes closed, this is a lot of spitting. </div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 294px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557795010165925682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ6T58tKWOi29THJfz3KW-FiACesyrSJyTZ9OHKaeQ_f4EudUQoUMnOwSqvLISRVJ7PP8HBt-cWuGwT9l2v1NRasPtXVQ7x39mGWtbRGu3LSmDM8g39VD6EjrwIf-l1P8L4GqlCixnIaQ/s320/pajama+time.jpg" />And sometimes Mommy can barely stop giggling enough to finish the story...</div>Hewittfolkshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13766217524239017693noreply@blogger.com0