Ketchup

Dear Katie, Shanna, and Tommy,

We had a great time this afternoon at the Greek Festival. The gryos were fantastic and we loved the music and dancing. So much fun! We would like to apologize for the horrible first impression our child made today. Between dancing on the table and his subsequent breakdown, you should know how mortified we are. We identified the source of his first official "terrible two" meltdown: ketchup. Remember those delicious Greek fries topped with feta cheese? (Yes, Shanna, feta does make everything "betta".) Well, the divine dipping sauce was too much for our child. As we left, red-faced with screaming, writhing child in tow, he kept reaching out for the basket of fries...well, actually, just the ketchup.

Katie, I know how much you wanted to meet B, and I don't blame you if never want to see him again, or have children of your own. Shanna, I hope that you remember the good times with our small wonder. Tommy, I hope what you witnessed today makes you give your little boy kisses and kisses for being so well-behaved.

As we left, I heard someone say, "Oh what's wrong with the poor baby?" I asked myself the same question, and when we figured it was KETCHUP, well we were--um, baffled. Behold the wonder of a toddler brain: reverting to the dinosaur in all of us over sauce. Well done, son.

As we venture to Matsuri (Japanese festival) tomorrow, we will certainly keep him away from the soy sauce. We do not want to tempt fate.

Hugs and kisses,
Jeff and Keiko

Alec Baldwin

I don't watch 30 Rock. I probably should because I love Tina Fey, but more so I adore Alec Baldwin. Every time I talk about good actors, Alec Baldwin comes up and everyone agrees he is incredible. I mean, have you ever seen Malice and his God speech? Classic!



While he does drama well, he is even better with comedy.


I don't know if you have seen the latest SNL skit with Alec Baldwin playing Wii, but you should definitely look it up. I don't know that I have the "Schweaty Balls" to post it.

Jeff and I would like to invite Alec Baldwin over for dinner, so if you can pass the message along I'd appreciate it.

PS- He can call me a "fat little pig" all he wants.

Birthday celebration

Erin's birthday was the 10th, Jeff's the 13th, and mine is coming up on the 22nd... We went to The Monastery with some friends (all not pictured).

Julie, Jeff, and Nick

Keiko, Cam, Rachel, Jessi, Erin, and Julie

Nick and Jeff (stupidly playing horseshoes when it was freeezing)
Julie, Keiko, Rachel, and Jessi

Bonnie, Keiko, and Katie (you are on my blog, Katie!)

Cam and Joseph

Coop/beer, "Road Rage" Erin, and "Don't hug me" Jess

Keiko's fine photography skills.

Friday the 13th

Tomorrow is Jeff's birthday. He is pretty proud of the fact that not only does his birthday fall on Friday the 13th this year, but also that he was born on Friday the 13th...simple joys.

Since those 25 random facts things are all the rage right now, I thought I would write 13 random facts Jeff might never tell you.

1. Jeff was conceived in the back of a Bonneville parked in a corn field.
2. He is scared to death of having a daughter.
3. In 6th grade he was kicked so hard "down there" by his brother, he had to wear a pee-pee bag for awhile.
4. He used to model dresses for him mom when she worked as a seamstress.
5. He is slightly obsessed with Panic at the Disco.
6. His feet are really ticklish.
7. Speaking of his feet, he totally needs to take a loofa to his heels. They scare me.
8. He is way more in to Japanese culture than me.
9. He is a control freak when it comes to reading directions and assembling things. When I got my breast pump, he had to put it together and read the directions to me.
10. Speaking of boobies, he has his nipples pierced.
11. He puts hot sauce on everything. When I say hot sauce, I mean like fire sauce.
12. He cannot pick up dog poop consistently for the life of him. I think people have not moved in to the house next to use because of the massive quantities of crap in our backyard.
13. Jeff gives me a kiss and tell me he loves me every morning before leaving.

Happy Birthday, Jeffy!

Shoes, part II

I woke up this morning (@9:30, Jeff let me sleep in) and ate breakfast (Jeff made me pancakes, jealous?). I then informed everyone that we would be making a trip to the store to buy B's shoes.
No getting ready, we would go as is. I was not going to take a chance that some early bird shopper would swipe the one and only pair.

B was in his footed outer space PJs, Jeff in basketball shorts and trademark white wife-kisser, and I was (am) dressed in black sweat pants and a tie-die shirt. In our fashionable glory (Jeff cheated and put a real shirt on) we headed out and I victoriously purchased the shoes.

Here they are...

As I tried to take pictures of them, B kept shouting, "CHEESE!" So, I had to indulge him as I had to indulge myself this morning. I think Jeff might feel left out, especially because I am allowing him to indulge in sorting the dirty clothes for laundry as I write.
That's a cookie remnant, btw.

Red Shoe Diaries

We were out tonight and I happened across the most incredible pair of red shoes for B. They looked like those, but red, and they had a cork-type bottom, and they were two sizes too big, but whatever. They were on sale ($18 bucks!). But, alas, we are trying to be "good"... I loved them--I still do. If I am still fantasizing about my kid looking like a bad-ass in red shoes come morning, I am going back to buy them.

Why is it always the red shoes that get under people's skin??

Attention Arizonans

Recently the legislature cut $133 million from education--the original estimate was $103 million. When superintendents met with the legislature they were told, "Unfortunately, as long as you superintendents keep stretching and providing for kids, parents don’t feel the pain. What you must do is stop providing services until the parents are fed up."

You are about to be fed up. The millions of dollars does not provide for just paper, pencils, and rulers. We are talking after school programs, tutoring, buses, sports, staff, and teachers. Classrooms will be stuffed with upwards of 40 students, no new textbooks, technology will be a thing of the past, and the list goes on.

Despite progressive thinkers, like Gary Nine (the sup for Florence), who proposes a .01 cent sales tax (that would produce $1 billion and cost an average family $12/month) and legislatures like Rebecca Rios and Rich Crandall, the governor and the top four (Pearce, Kavanagh, Burns, and Adams) went ahead and cut above and beyond what they originally proposed. (Side note: immediately after signing, the Gov hopped a plane to the Super Bowl. Nice exit.)

A couple weeks ago almost 2,000 parents, teachers, students, and community members rallied at the State Capitol. There is another planned for Saturday, February 14th from 11 to 1pm. This is not a teacher rally, nor is it just for parents, this is for anyone who has the slightest regard for the future of AZ.

If you are interested in getting more information, go to www.respectforregularfolks.com.

FF2x4 Update

#1. I am down 12 pounds in 3 weeks. Word.

#2. My dr was right. Losing weight once you have birthed a child sucks. It's a whole new ball game. A much more slow tedious game...like 90 years old batters and there is no strike limit.

#3. I adore working out when I have time, but I couldn't pick a worse time to listen to my dr (who wants me to work out for 45-60 minutes a day) because I am taking a full-time grad load this semester.

#4. Thank you to my friends who are helping me without being totally obnoxious. I heart you.

#5. I am very concerned I am jinxing myself by mentioning any of this.

Poetry

I was reading my friend Katy's blog today and thought I would post this. I just wrote it the other night as I rocked B.

Love is not always an ecstatic, manic frenzy that causes the heart to shout, dance, and leap:
Is my phone broken?
Why won’t he text?
Should I check my inbox?

Love can be the simplicity of holding the sleepy little prince
rocking back and forth (back and forth),
with his warm little body in footed pjs (which promise adventure in outer space)
that once fit perfectly in the crook of my arm—but now lays long and heavy from my left shoulder to my right hip—
and the scent of “gentle, no tears” lingering in his hair.

Dark, little eyes blink and sparkle—catching all the light in the darkness.
The smallest, softest hand tickles the hollow of my throat and
(As I did after marathon phone calls ending with dawn)
(As I did after reading the love letters thick with emotion)
(As I did after inhaling the perfume of deep, red roses)
I sigh.

My love for the prince grounds my soul and it is nice to have a smooth landing.

I love storage space and my husband

I have more storage space and it is so very stylish. We have this wasted space downstairs called a pony wall that seperates our dining from living room area. I hate it. I've been wanting a cabinet installed and after (tonssss) of prompting Jeff delivered again! With the leftovers in our garage he installed a cabinet that runs the entire length of the wall. We were perplexed what to do about the doors since they are pricey and we are po'. I suggested using fabric to plywood cut to size and Jeff agreed it was a pretty good idea. He took some scrap wood, painted it black on the back, covered the front with material that matched our decor and ran some painted moulding along the edges. It looks so awesome and...well there are no words.

I don't have any good before pics and the flash is off because the gold in the fabric looks to shiny.

Now I get to stock my new cabs.