How Sweet it is to be Loved By You

Layne's first baby sign was "food", Briks first sign was "more", Roxwell's is "I love you." This kid is so sweet. He throws out the sign when he sees us in the morning, smiles when we sign it to him and he will sign it right back. So now you know when this munchkin is gazing your way with his arm in your direction and his fingers all funky -- that just means he is sweet on you too.

All by Myself

This Little Piggy Skipped The Market

Hobo Days

You know how cities have random celebrations; Renaissance Festival, Country Thunder, County Fairs? Britt, Iowa, my parent's hometown is a teeny, tiny town in Northern Iowa that actually celebrates hobo's. This is the point where originality crosses the fence to absurdity, I know. Hobo Days is actually a long time tradition in the area and besides the exceptional friendliness towards hobos, is most like any other small town festival.

We do not make it out to many parades, so it was a novel experience for the kids. Especially MY kids, who are candy-deprived, where the most they have ever had in their possession was from trick or treating less than 20 houses. They ended up with over a gallon of candy, mostly tootsie rolls since the bigger kids grabbed the bigger stuff. This parade was an hour long, and every other float threw a couple fistfuls of candy.

The kids got the wave down pat

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Even Roxwell learned real fast.

Collecting their loot

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This is what happens when they actually throw candy AT you...stinking hobos.

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At the end of the morning when we were heading back to our car (because that is all we could stand of the blasted humidity) I told my mom that I hadn't gotten a picture of a hobo. She looked around where we were and turned to a man with a long beard and asked "Are you a hobo?" I was mortified. Luckily he was and he graciously posed with the kids. So here is "Jump Off John" and all hobo pride. Notice how Brik kept a stroller's distance, that was on purpose.

"I Skieded!"

We really thought Layne could have fun water skiing. Dad pulled out his kiddie skies, the same Mickey Mouse ones that I learned on at a young age. They are short, wide and tied together with the handle connected to the skies. A rider on the boat holds the other end of the long rope and lets go once the skier falls, lest the kid be drug. Dad worked on pulling Layne off the shore with the jetski while Jarom arranged the skies and I readied the camera. Each day we worked with him we could only talk him into a few tries before he was adamantly done.

On our first day working with Layne, Brik agreed to giving it a try. With low expectations,we were set to grab him within the first few feet of the shore so that he wouldn't get freaked out when he fell. With sheer amazement, we watched ort little three-year-old effortlessly ski a circle the width of the river and with confidence bounce his skies on the water to add to his enjoyment. First try, every try.

A bit timid when it was go-time, but after one sucess he was all smiles.

After that, Brik was an expert on the subject, telling anyone else that skied "You have to jump so it is more funner." He was sure to tell every one "I skieded." By our last day he was waving at us from across the river while casually gliding across the water.

Brik was very encouraging to Layne, always telling him how good he was doing on every try. Eventually Layne was able to go a decent distance before wiping out, on the last try of the third day he actually skied too. Fun memories.

Murky Glory

It is obvious that we trek our family of five (quite a load and expense) to Iowa (a very unglamorous destination) for the sole purpose to unite the grandparents and grandkids. It is no secret that as parents we are only in attendance for transportation purposes. Even still, I have many memories of my old stomping grounds; Manchester, Lake Delhi, The Country Club, Britt, Hobo Days...It is invigorating to remember childhood.

Lake Delhi was where I first learned to ski and spent many a weekend being pulled behind the boat via various blow-up devices (inner tube, ski rocket, torpedo). Engine Joe is the cliff we jumped off of when I perforated my eardrum in middle school. Freddy's Beach is where we built castles, moats and rivers in the sand, jumped on their super bouncy trampolines or swam out to their floating dock with a slide, rope, trampoline and diving board (I wonder if that is still there).

Dad now has a condo on Lake Delhi with jet ski and pontoon. We got out in the boat most every day. Layne, of coarse was into driving as much as possible. Roxwell was not too fond of the life jacket so we tried to make arrangements so that he would not have to be along for the ride. I gave skiing, knee boarding and tubing a go and was pleased to still be able to hang on with minimal day-after-stiffness. Jarom absolutely loves hanging out on the Lake and participating in the various water sports. Brik, well, we'll get to him next post.

P.S. My husband is hot.

Stress? What Stress?

As if packing up one city girl, two monkeys and a baby for a 10 day trip isn't hard enough...

Throw in a car accident,

A storm that lays trees across the road, causes a full (Sabbath) day power outage and 3 stir crazy kids pent up in a non-child proofed house,

An allergic reaction,

A teething baby,

Falling down the stairs in the middle of the night while tending to awake kids,

Getting to the airport late after the flight is closed and not even having to pose as a pathetic family with small children because we already were that family,

Loosing every card game known to man

And juggling face time between divorced grandparents.

Yeah, I'd say that is stress.

Hickville

We are wrapping up our trip to Iowa, yay. No, really it was fun just A LOT of work, stress and sweating. I am looking forward to wrapping myself in a dry towel after showering and getting my hair flat again.

We surprised my Dad by coming in a few days early for his 50th birthday party, a big outdoor celebration for the ultimate redneck. Complete with homemade yard games, raunchy gifts and coolers of party beverages.

In this game you take turns hitting a nail with a hammer, first one to get it all the way in the stump wins.

You all know the Hawkeye bean bag toss.

Ahhh, a normal game--volleyball.

AH-MAZE-ING!

Gone on vacation, too busy to properly blog.

Here is a sample of our day...can you tell who this is?