tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14449552453912068712024-03-14T02:02:38.346-07:00Landry Lovin'Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.comBlogger323125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-69464200312320675352013-11-07T11:48:00.003-08:002013-11-07T11:48:58.217-08:00Christmas 2012First let me explain.<br />
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Last year was a little wacky around December time. When it was all said and done, my kids opened presents at three different locations. I am not saying this to complain but to explain the "wearing a different outfit but still opening more presents" pictures. Yes, I had hopes to raise children who would function in this world but clearly all is lost now.<br />
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We had Christmas Eve Eve at Nini and Pappy's, Christmas Eve at Mema's, and Christmas morning at our own house.<br />
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How to start Christmas Eve Eve right?<br />
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1. throw in some cute kids (extra points for a tie)<br />
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2. Add a newlywed Auntie and Uncle<br />
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3. A sprinkling of grandpa<br />
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4. And the piece de resistance, the rest of the gang all showered and looking good<br />
(Shelby already has her Christmas game face on... "Preeeseeennntzzzz")<br />
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Johnny Manziel's Number! </div>
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Please note: this is the last time you will see this shirt clean and <i>NOT</i> on his body.</div>
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Matching doll PJs! Apparently they sell them in mom sizes too. They don't include <i>that</i> in the mail out catalogue because the last thing anyone wants to do is have a throw down about matching pjs with their daughter. <i>NOT</i> a client builder. It <i>IS</i> on the website however. I guess they figure by the time your kid can navigate the web the mommy/daughter pj-fest desires have died along with the image of your dad as the strongest man in the world and the idea that your mommy looks pretty in the mornings.<br />
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Oh good! A book that plays a song! The same song! Over and over!</div>
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Had I only known that I would be waking up to the sound of dice for weeks to come...</div>
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I think his muscles look bigger in that shirt. Definitely!</div>
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I guess I'll put my doll in the matching pj's (since my mother doesn't <i>really</i> love me)</div>
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Christmas Eve at Mema's<br />
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Shelby finds her doppelganger.</div>
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Goodie! More music for the one year old!</div>
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Wyatt gets his first real bike! Mema rocks!</div>
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Actual Christmas Morning (yes. the parents are flagging but the kids are going strong.)<br />
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Rapunzel Barbie. </div>
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Every girl mom reading this just suppressed a shudder. We all know five days from now with all that hair she's gonna look more like Meth Barbie (sold in the shady alleyway behind ToysRus)</div>
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Only in Texas...</div>
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His face is the caption.</div>
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Sorry Walker. I didn't think through the consequences of this particular gift.</div>
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And, no Christmas photo montage would be complete without the yearly dog carnage. Moose, for some inexplicable reason, bumped the lid off a rubbermaid container full of packed ornaments and opted to chew up a few. Good thing he only got the Christopher Radko ones.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOHm18TdvOtIkocydQbh1XHXdF1GZtsQxa8La9oFS__lg1Q_S-QUuKGgODGc5fS9nOd3aawHUXrA7lLv1FeFnN8e9Lx0iug7kmvYHLYRli4cqCIR9x4COzsHISxzm6Hv25U5gf3P_-M8OB/s1600/IMG_0017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOHm18TdvOtIkocydQbh1XHXdF1GZtsQxa8La9oFS__lg1Q_S-QUuKGgODGc5fS9nOd3aawHUXrA7lLv1FeFnN8e9Lx0iug7kmvYHLYRli4cqCIR9x4COzsHISxzm6Hv25U5gf3P_-M8OB/s400/IMG_0017.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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He might have napped for part of Christmas morning but he woke up ready to dominate the karaoke machine! Not afraid to fight for his spot in the family limelight.</div>
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2012 was a smashing success! </div>
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Bring on 2013!</div>
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<!-----extra-->Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-51185805344602835942013-11-05T11:25:00.002-08:002013-11-05T11:25:24.508-08:00A not so silent weekend<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My sweet, wonderful husband offered to watch the kids while I went on a silent retreat one weekend (I know it sounds strange but I promise no gutteral chanting or yoga moves were involved.) As I am driving home Sunday, I call home to get the full briefing from my daughter.</div>
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"[lots of chatting] and then Wyatt went to the dentist and got a balloon and a sticker [more chatting]"</div>
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Wait. What?</div>
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Seth then gets on the phone and just tells me to get home and he'll give me the full run down. After I get home, Wyatt walks down the stairs and...</div>
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Well, we shall refer to this as the "before" picture:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioty0W7QocZUfoBjTqIAO-Yl9aw0sofe691hfI0gOM_mXsTjj56gKofGyMqCx29DdsMp7KsedhF7eHLfQ7U8UOUy6z7gproNJ0TJvhECinmQR687FAcI81eAwKmbQX3fAiXdAE2WhVmQKz/s1600/IMG_0521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioty0W7QocZUfoBjTqIAO-Yl9aw0sofe691hfI0gOM_mXsTjj56gKofGyMqCx29DdsMp7KsedhF7eHLfQ7U8UOUy6z7gproNJ0TJvhECinmQR687FAcI81eAwKmbQX3fAiXdAE2WhVmQKz/s640/IMG_0521.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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After:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR-MQTYioNkbhXmT_UedtNTERXDx6KTOdjLgMrKctINhQW0E6AvG_2k03jinwGYXhOhvPNqb154BVus3Xsn5cn-tpY93av61nMBzxdvOJQrMZgRz0OJWAXxpsgeXquOV4BjIGqATfqXF76/s1600/IMG_0674.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR-MQTYioNkbhXmT_UedtNTERXDx6KTOdjLgMrKctINhQW0E6AvG_2k03jinwGYXhOhvPNqb154BVus3Xsn5cn-tpY93av61nMBzxdvOJQrMZgRz0OJWAXxpsgeXquOV4BjIGqATfqXF76/s640/IMG_0674.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Yup. Ol Wy managed to ricochet his bat off a PVC pipe that fateful Saturday morning. Seth ran over to him and thought he had a cut on his hand only to realize he was holding his tooth...his entire tooth-root and all. Shelby proved to be made of "sterner stuff" during this crisis and ran for paper towels to mop up the blood now covering Wyatt. Off to the emergency pediatric dentist--Yeeha!</div>
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Here's a picture of the DENTIST! </div>
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(I know she looks high schoolish to me too! Sign #117 that I am clearly getting older.) </div>
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Sainted Seth still managed to keep the other kiddos alive AND clean <----bonus p=""><br />
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A few more shots to be sure that you get to see what I did when I got home...<br />
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Mema even brought him some special treats & a game</div>
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Shelby's reaction to all the gore </div>
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(kidding! She was a champ!)</div>
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Just another weekend in the life of the Landrys!</div>
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Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-81239917541404090472013-10-28T07:05:00.001-07:002013-10-28T07:05:57.247-07:00What I saw when I turned the corner...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Is it too much work to walk five steps inside and use the toilet? </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNwaLXNlfF1nZ3FCpahefRAiH06Ws80efSdP9w5I8A34hI6uAusOVqMX2notb5ZjhDpSIuS9guNxQop7nl3ut7DYMKSwDw1HjF88M8dlRHLBUHYFHkXfeZy4-DFoXO43CxZrGcY7RxxVA8/s1600/IMG_0541.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNwaLXNlfF1nZ3FCpahefRAiH06Ws80efSdP9w5I8A34hI6uAusOVqMX2notb5ZjhDpSIuS9guNxQop7nl3ut7DYMKSwDw1HjF88M8dlRHLBUHYFHkXfeZy4-DFoXO43CxZrGcY7RxxVA8/s640/IMG_0541.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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The glare off his white hiney is blinding.</div>
Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-78094614904212546232013-10-23T18:58:00.000-07:002013-10-23T18:58:20.900-07:00Cousins<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Not sure if this has occured at your house but cousins hold celebrity status in ours. My kids are far more interested in what their cousins are eating (I want some too!), wearing (instant cool factor!), and doing (me too!) than anything Justin Bieber or some other doomed child star might be. So when the grandparents offer to take the four oldest to Millican its pretty much guaranteed that the kids will have a great time (and sleep the next 24 hours solid when they get home). </div>
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Happy happy happy</div>
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They are the cutest things!</div>
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"Should we touch it Wyatt?"</div>
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"Na. Let's just watch it slowly asphyxiate."</div>
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"Great idea....Good times."</div>
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Catfish: <i>There theems to be thomthing in my noth</i>.</div>
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Good eatin' tonight!</div>
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Mac Man</div>
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Passed out with a dirt-encrusted face. Must have been fun!</div>
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And we must save the best for last...</div>
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<br />Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-55632212421455344832013-10-15T11:10:00.000-07:002013-10-15T11:10:18.869-07:00School Carnival 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
When I think back to my school carnival growing up two images pop up: confetti eggs and the ping pong ball game where you could WIN A GOLDFISH! (Needless to say this was the parents' favorite game as well). </div>
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I mean, think about it. You could find your best, most treasured friends and smash confetti-filled eggs on their head. It's the elementary version of "I love you man!" The more loved you were the more confetti you had plastered to your sweaty face (and the more Advil you needed later). And the goldfish game, well, I probably don't need to tell you why this caused frenzied excitement amongst us little people. Hello! It was a way to circumvent the parents! </div>
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kid: I want a fish</div>
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parent: no</div>
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kid: I won a fish</div>
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parent: crap</div>
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As an animal-crazed child I was thrilled to have any sort of animal beneath my careful husbandry. Unfortunately, with a younger sibling, their long term survival rate waaaaas not so good. I never got to reach the point where my mom had to nag me to scrub the bowl. They were long gone to the big toilet in the sky by then. I simply rinsed out the bowl and awaited next year's victim...errr..fish.</div>
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Well, the fish game has been axed. (I heard vague whisperings of a parent uprising and some tank scum smeared on protestors bodies but these are all, of course, rumors...) I am glad so say that the annual ritual of attempting to concuss your very best friend still remains. Shelby might need a few more years to embrace this particular aspect of the carnival. Her bent is more towards the tamer entertainments of the carnival.</div>
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1. Sugar! (let's call it "dinner" kids)</div>
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2. The Petting Zoo </div>
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The only way to pry my kids away from the animals was with more sugar. </div>
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Vicious cyle.</div>
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It's a miracle he still has all five fingers...</div>
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<br />Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-23978819070678359652013-09-13T11:15:00.002-07:002013-09-13T11:15:52.144-07:00Katy Rodeo NightKaty Rodeo Night. What a fun night with the family.<br />
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What could possibly go wrong?<br />
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It all began well. Kids dug up their city slicker hats, and I put the most rugged outfit I could find on our 18 month old (which was a turtleneck with a Moose in a tent. Yes, I realize this was a sad attempt at "country" but have I mentioned that I've really let go here people?). Then we went to McDonalds where Shelby got a Barbie Happy Meal toy.<br />
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The joy trajectory shot up after that one.<br />
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And then, <i>the fatal error</i>.<br />
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We decided to go pet the animals BEFORE buying our tickets. La de da let's take our time and teach the kids the pig names (Blue Butt was the favorite breed. Shocker.). Then...<br />
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A DISASTER OF EPIC PROPORTIONS<br />
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(sweet innocent family totally unaware of their fate)</div>
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SOLD OUT!</div>
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Our kids stood there looking a little confused. Like this was some sort of joke b/c they all had their gear on. Think quick mom!<i> Let's go to the carnival kids!</i></div>
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We walked all the way over only to realize (dum dum duuummmmm) it was a cash only operation and all I had was a credit card. </div>
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So there our kids stood. No rodeo. Staring at all the flashing lights with hints of funnel cake and cotton candy tickling their noses. </div>
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The joy trajectory has completely bottomed out and begins to slide into dangerous territory.</div>
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And here is where I reach my finest (or lowest depending on how you view it) moment. Before they are completely unreachable at the bottom of the child angst spiral, I make them an offer.<br />
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<i>Hey, kids how about I go buy you something at Target?</i><br />
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Moaning stops.<br />
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Joy trajectory ceases it's downward slide.<br />
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I begin to paint a picture of the wide, glistening aisles full of innumerable goodies from which they may choose.<br />
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Twenty minutes later we are headed home with a Fancy Nancy book and a Ninja Turtle T-Phone.<br />
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Not exactly the night I had envisioned but all was well in the end. Lesson learned for next year.<br />
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Wyatt the next day:"This horse is as tough as a nut."</div>
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Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-15447938020037905112013-09-09T17:44:00.000-07:002013-09-09T17:44:38.639-07:00We "Tri"ed really hard last weekend...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
...and now we are tired.</div>
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First of all, let me state that my daughter requested this triathlon <i>herself</i>. As a matter of fact, I told her "no" until she could ride her bike without training wheels. Two weeks later, she is training wheel free and lining up for her <i>open water</i> swim. </div>
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In a lake. </div>
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That was brown. </div>
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By herself.</div>
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Yes, my six year old hopped in without any hesitation (once I told her there were no fish in it which was a lie hard to maintain once we got there and multiple people were fishing on the other bank...)</div>
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Headed to the water here. She was the last in line b/c she had no official time (translation: every other child in the event had already done this before and therefore had a time.)</div>
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Fearsome Competitor!<br />
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She's off!<br />
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I wonder if her curls caused any drag in the water...<br />
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Burnin' up some rubber!<br />
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(It was during the biking portion I observed two things: Shelby is getting a little big for her bike and there were some kid bikes out there that were NOT from Walmart or Academy if you know what I'm sayin')<br />
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I straight up was having to fight back tears as she crossed the finish line. </div>
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And now (drumroll please)... <span style="font-size: large;">Mommy's Triathlon!</span><br />
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Me and my training partner (whose crazy idea it was to run the tri in the first place and has given me serious cause to question our friendship during the month of August).<br />
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I feel the need to also mention that Genevieve is nursing her THIRD child who is 6 MONTHS OLD! I personally feel she deserves a special medal.<br />
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Nothing makes the other triathletes quiver in their shoes like a "selfie" before the race. </div>
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(BTW do you see the gal's hinney on the right photo bombing our pic?)</div>
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Let me give you the play by play from here on out along with the lessons I learned...</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Open Water Swim-</span></div>
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Before June, my major (and only) stroke was the "I don't want to get my hair wet" mom stroke. That means I've been freestyling for approximately 3 months at the time of the tri. I mention this so you may grasp that my less-than-fluid state in the water made me panic just a wee bit. Now might also be the time to mention, dear readers, to NEVER use the port-a-potties near the swim entrance. </div>
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Like ever. </div>
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Trust me on this one.</div>
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Anyway, I swam the 400m mostly breast stroke since every time I put my head down to freestyle I ended up off course. Apparently that line in the lap pool was more important than I realized.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Bike:</span></div>
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I got about halfway through the 12m course when I may or may not have shifted wrong and caused my chain to fall off. Since my last bike was a banana seat, I have also been learning how to shift gears this summer as well. Apparently this is still a work in progress.</div>
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Fortunately, the bike crew patched me back up and sent me back on my way with a minor delay that didn't concern me in the slightest. At the end of the race, Seth was so upset for me that I had worked so hard only do have the chain come off and delay my time during the biking. To which I replied, "I'm a winner!"and trotted off to the car to pet my medal. </div>
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(This, of course, became the running joke for the next two days as Seth marveled at how different we were. But really, I birthed three kids, trained through the Texas summer, learned to swim, learned to ride a road bike, and finished the triathlon. I felt like a winner even w/o the trophy. If we start subtracting minutes for each child birthed, I bet I could have been top ten...just sayin')</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Run:</span></div>
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So after you swim and bike then you get to run a 5k! Yay! While I am no speedster, I was definitely most comfortable here as I couldn't drown or break equipment. However, I should mention that it was hot this Labor Day and the run started around ten o'clock. My original time goals for the run devolved into a) don't walk b) don't hog all the ice sponges at the mile intervals. Both of these new goals severely tested my willpower, but I prevailed so that the lovely picture could be taken below on the homestretch. </div>
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"I'M A WINNER!"*</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguAKoiThAyBn6aV-s6qMRcjRMsXEJp6hIdzZ5vaN1SJ60dfu4mEwJorb14wbeIJ8QIIrzGrh5yMClRNOZ9R8dUHBPhp9SOdmr2u2M-8D63h3euwcDyYiKJKwO-FCG6g698uzStnjSl26Th/s1600/noname.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguAKoiThAyBn6aV-s6qMRcjRMsXEJp6hIdzZ5vaN1SJ60dfu4mEwJorb14wbeIJ8QIIrzGrh5yMClRNOZ9R8dUHBPhp9SOdmr2u2M-8D63h3euwcDyYiKJKwO-FCG6g698uzStnjSl26Th/s640/noname.jpeg" width="428" /></a></div>
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(The lemon yellow tri suit was cause for many an envious stare let me tell you.)</div>
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At home and feeling good!</div>
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Uh oh, lack of electrolytes are showing...Questionable decisions are being made</div>
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*in my mind at least.Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-84736883577747624152013-08-30T12:09:00.004-07:002013-08-30T12:42:14.614-07:00Birthday Morning<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
While I opted to have his party later, we still celebrated Wyatt's actual birthday morning. Monkey bread, a few presents, and the "you are special plate" that is currently missing.</div>
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All children of the 80s will notice a familiar gift theme here. Yep. They're back. Those heroes in a half-shell could be denied no longer. April O'Neil is no longer a 30 something reporter in a heinously awesome yellow jumper, but a young teenage girl (good move Nickelodeon). As a matter of fact, the feature film has already begun filming with <a href="http://perezhilton.com/cocoperez/2011-01-26-new-ad-from-megan-fox-armani-jeans-campaign-spring-2011">Megan Fox</a> as April O'Neill. I don't know about you but she was the FIRST choice <i>I</i> thought of to play the pre-pubescent human lead for a kids feature film. </div>
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Way to go Hollywood! </div>
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You've done it once again.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiKY3n9SGmGJ2UTAGo7fyk5EyBwi8_L5-Bln-YiuP1afE7QFw26An5coN-HsjNBb2rr0yQ8d0Wwgweev5DnaGvgDiD41ZAiRpcarU_4K1EqkIgBftKcl-K9SrcEciMy39uLLJKf9nfC90J/s1600/IMG_0132.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiKY3n9SGmGJ2UTAGo7fyk5EyBwi8_L5-Bln-YiuP1afE7QFw26An5coN-HsjNBb2rr0yQ8d0Wwgweev5DnaGvgDiD41ZAiRpcarU_4K1EqkIgBftKcl-K9SrcEciMy39uLLJKf9nfC90J/s400/IMG_0132.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
Wyatt could have cared less about April O'Neil but was super pumped about getting Dog Pound (which is the character Seth has taken to referring to himself as usually right before he begins to body slam the boys into the couch cushions)<br />
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"Hmmmm. Vintage Turtles. This will match my Vintage Alvin and the Chipmunks and Vintage Looney Tunes. Mom must be going through something..."</div>
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Yes you are my little man. </div>
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Yes you are.</div>
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<br />Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-33357826793636738962013-08-30T11:42:00.000-07:002013-08-30T11:42:35.142-07:00Loose Tooth Drama<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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What happens when your oldest type A child gets told by the dentist that her bottom teeth are starting to "flex"?<br />
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The demand for "hard" foods and readings of "Fancy Nancy and the Loose Tooth" skyrocket.Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-22427709115491490752013-06-30T19:08:00.002-07:002013-06-30T19:08:17.705-07:00Happiness is...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPF2_HjKwNKiAZXvuJ8mI2fwKxvPMARGUv0Ld9bG_I37bMC8KsMG03joNQ10VeFgbKBS1I6abYQ_czLjV_FOgBz_URk53fNOTc20fecVMhEPSainz8fRPPP6tHg1aN-wlDJZpDrZGE8k8L/s1600/IMG_0141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPF2_HjKwNKiAZXvuJ8mI2fwKxvPMARGUv0Ld9bG_I37bMC8KsMG03joNQ10VeFgbKBS1I6abYQ_czLjV_FOgBz_URk53fNOTc20fecVMhEPSainz8fRPPP6tHg1aN-wlDJZpDrZGE8k8L/s640/IMG_0141.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<br />Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-70965233579497329202013-06-27T14:51:00.001-07:002013-06-27T14:51:34.578-07:00They call me the fireman...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
SOME mothers must love their kids more and, therefore, plan super cool specialized parties. (Other mothers throw a party in a park for ALL the children on the same day and convince the kids it is so fun to share their birthday with all their siblings)</div>
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Well, we attended a fireman/truck themed party for (one more loved child) that kicked off at the fire station. As you can guess, BIG HIT with the young kiddos.</div>
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Wyatt scans the horizon for the telltale sign of smoke.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiydvubSSERHYZhcjvkWl20RamlKXttsbjKaku2-UOPJIMDHg-0368ChcjVuEcG3PAtebh36oZwurP3ZmxpE4KFU41uUmqAI9ZgvxpXITRcbyaDfzWWH6Rm1GkJFt-6eo7lTObqun4X3XWK/s1600/IMG_0096.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiydvubSSERHYZhcjvkWl20RamlKXttsbjKaku2-UOPJIMDHg-0368ChcjVuEcG3PAtebh36oZwurP3ZmxpE4KFU41uUmqAI9ZgvxpXITRcbyaDfzWWH6Rm1GkJFt-6eo7lTObqun4X3XWK/s640/IMG_0096.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Yup. They let him squirt the hose. </div>
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Sorry for the bad news but it's all down hill from here from now on son.</div>
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Sara: <i>Haha! Look at me putting on all the gear.</i></div>
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Sara: <i>Haha! Look at me about to pass out from the weight of the uniform. </i></div>
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<i>BTW I see you smirking behind me smug fireman. I'd like to see you give birth. </i></div>
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<i>Smirk that!</i></div>
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There is no fire too hot, not building too tall, no helmet to big for... FIREMAN WYATT!</div>
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After the station, we convened back at the party house where my shame circle was complete after observing the coordinating food and decor. My initial pride at having put on makeup and taken a FULL shower that morning was squashed. Good thing Wyatt had a great time with his buddy Atticus (who he insisted on sitting next to.) Great job Supermom Sara!</div>
<br />Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-89377237768480230362013-05-13T11:31:00.001-07:002013-05-13T11:31:23.274-07:00Post-bat-to-the-face dentist visit<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Seth volunteered to watch the kids for the weekend while I went on a silent retreat.</div>
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Seth's weekend turned out to be anything BUT silent...</div>
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On Saturday, he took the kids to Millican where Wyatt managed to ricochet a bat off a PVC pipe. </div>
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Wham! Right into the mouth! Seth looked through all the blood and thought he saw a flap of skin only to realize it was Wyatt's WHOLE TOOTH - root and all. He stuck it back in and drove to the pediatric dentist in B/CS (clearly I am omitting some details for your sake). </div>
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Diagnosis: the tooth is going to make it!</div>
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Treatment: Some antibiotics and extra spoiling!</div>
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Real Trauma: Shelby <i>almost</i> loosing out to Wyatt as the first one to loose a tooth</div>
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Wyatt 2 days after...</div>
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Post-tooth-reinsertion visit (in his favorite shirt).</div>
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What are the other kiddos doing? </div>
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Brushing creepy tooth toy's teeth.</div>
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Tell me that's a face that won't haunt some dreams...</div>
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Here she is in all her tooth glory BUT she did receive excellent news. The dentist told her the bottom ones were starting to "flex."(This is code in Shelby's world for obsessively push on them until a tooth is loose enough to pull).</div>
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What kept Walker occupied...<br />
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<br />Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-69771751200437936352013-05-01T11:19:00.004-07:002013-05-01T11:19:51.556-07:00under the weather<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-46022848727327143352013-05-01T11:18:00.002-07:002013-05-01T11:18:53.381-07:00Aunt Bri Gets Married!So Shelby really likes all things wedding related. This does not bode well for daddy:). She was super pumped to watch her auntie walk down the aisle. Wyatt was a little unsure what all the hoopla was about. I think their two faces are pretty expressive of their wedding experience.<br />
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It didn't hurt that she got to hold a baby at the reception either. Future babysitter alert!</div>
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Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-35080048342314348532013-04-29T16:57:00.000-07:002013-04-29T16:57:33.060-07:00Valentine's<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Gaaaa! We've been hit! It's a drive-by heart attack!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPPf75e7AP4ra-mBCoK5f-jsfjnPs19jJ-yMWEDwPo8wh7vD_-e0O-b_rshMOhFki4sae80KNrn91WXehLwYKZoqwZB7w0GYcTlajuosgvuvB1UQHs1UVC9g2_L0EfGtXZoHTQPD3LDLb2/s1600/IMG_0117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPPf75e7AP4ra-mBCoK5f-jsfjnPs19jJ-yMWEDwPo8wh7vD_-e0O-b_rshMOhFki4sae80KNrn91WXehLwYKZoqwZB7w0GYcTlajuosgvuvB1UQHs1UVC9g2_L0EfGtXZoHTQPD3LDLb2/s640/IMG_0117.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Wait...no it's just my curly-haired holiday fiend hard at work.</div>
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If her hands were not covered in blisters after that kind of output I would be shocked. What began as a lone heart on the door by Daddy morphed into us needing to restock on tape and pick up teeny bits of paper for days on end. All in the name of love right?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQk1-uEdWxBW3AjWpqSpn9nnP8Vs1TuUq8yGLuEHQIJTSkRsDtvdlAPrqgJbjC6dEtpxHFpsxH5hxU_MrQxhIQ80ry5op-a87-EWSb6OC2espbQdIcSv8Zng9peq-3-aTTRyTD1kZD53qK/s1600/IMG_0106.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQk1-uEdWxBW3AjWpqSpn9nnP8Vs1TuUq8yGLuEHQIJTSkRsDtvdlAPrqgJbjC6dEtpxHFpsxH5hxU_MrQxhIQ80ry5op-a87-EWSb6OC2espbQdIcSv8Zng9peq-3-aTTRyTD1kZD53qK/s640/IMG_0106.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
She didn't stop with the door decor. She carried right on into class valentines. Please note the Fun Dip to the side.<br />
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Nothing like a Fun Dip explosion in your backseat to get Valentine's started, am I right?<br />
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Parents, you are welcome.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghYIaCKu95zNOkKLlBIvRW4SAPc2lJRnIg1XZuoMtRlBwEOaVRMqMopB_sh14r6F0O9GRzhWPI6s1oQLbu0m66xqRhCzpaJOZR31s4no43AKIjOg4DJ72ZxS00QUXZ_GAiApsuwF8IRdC3/s1600/IMG_0107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghYIaCKu95zNOkKLlBIvRW4SAPc2lJRnIg1XZuoMtRlBwEOaVRMqMopB_sh14r6F0O9GRzhWPI6s1oQLbu0m66xqRhCzpaJOZR31s4no43AKIjOg4DJ72ZxS00QUXZ_GAiApsuwF8IRdC3/s640/IMG_0107.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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I am starting to see the light with older kids. Shelby cut out all her own valentines, addressed them, and stapled the Fun Dip packets on. My job was to hunt down the extra Fun Dip packets and eat the sugar sticks inside. Can't leave those laying around now can we? Some say they taste like petrified powdered sugar.<br />
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I agree.<br />
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And I still love them. (says the girl who loves marshmallow fluff straight out of the can)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAxnW02z8IavX8xgs7mOstlJbwpmS2SrbRAAA3box2mgg5N_gKOBg2z2YtmVdNuJAEzO_9to9I7VB3axCdyoCu26ashU7ao7EF452HNLZmeMUtcfWId0OM2MRldIIVNq5GwiKRpCXleoEx/s1600/IMG_0118.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAxnW02z8IavX8xgs7mOstlJbwpmS2SrbRAAA3box2mgg5N_gKOBg2z2YtmVdNuJAEzO_9to9I7VB3axCdyoCu26ashU7ao7EF452HNLZmeMUtcfWId0OM2MRldIIVNq5GwiKRpCXleoEx/s640/IMG_0118.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Shelby even began to wax poetic about the upcoming holiday of love. Clearly she is showing signs of brilliance as she is not boxed in by silly rhyming patterns.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeEpkxEbzbpULQjKTzeFrwxSXbQ5HxgSnjb60Xw2LrNYJ7lkQfuXNb6aRKWQBGsatQzptSEWfNihatMUvXwnCflM1K9A6k6Na-WRK2YW-FYeTrR_HmhHrXW_yyHBSBCbW_tJMBGMVe58gB/s1600/IMG_0119.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeEpkxEbzbpULQjKTzeFrwxSXbQ5HxgSnjb60Xw2LrNYJ7lkQfuXNb6aRKWQBGsatQzptSEWfNihatMUvXwnCflM1K9A6k6Na-WRK2YW-FYeTrR_HmhHrXW_yyHBSBCbW_tJMBGMVe58gB/s640/IMG_0119.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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She even made Walker a sympathy Valentine.</div>
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Here is a shot of the approximately 3 minutes Wyatt was contained and "helpful" with the Valentine stuffing. </div>
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Time for the goofy "boy smile." Trying to get him to just take a normal picture is not in the cards during this age apparently. </div>
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He might also be a little hopped up on Fun Dip fumes.</div>
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Hard call.</div>
<br />Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-49428106933721285692013-04-24T09:16:00.000-07:002013-04-24T09:16:01.954-07:00Visiting cousins<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A Cajun Birthday Cake!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlrDw12ll9XPfghAbdrBCOK_lQHVxBRZcZHwBi2g_-l_Y0CoXS8Zta6YT6GL_lkfULXux50BQGIoqc_5uBA5WQmZQ2J9gK2wnXK_359OJl5P4xufaYInSE8IT9DeDouBzeJrFiRYa1zemL/s1600/IMG_0123.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlrDw12ll9XPfghAbdrBCOK_lQHVxBRZcZHwBi2g_-l_Y0CoXS8Zta6YT6GL_lkfULXux50BQGIoqc_5uBA5WQmZQ2J9gK2wnXK_359OJl5P4xufaYInSE8IT9DeDouBzeJrFiRYa1zemL/s320/IMG_0123.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Trip home. Looks like the fun caught up to him.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipUCg3ZrMF9v-oXp5waIKtcYkgLUbFjYOWblQcbea0bmrSHNYexOYkNYdV06bNc4eW9Q-hk7sF_4eQ7zGVaSeDj_bZcjpm9B9OwAeqT8KyYJEDzTqn__V3UpvlBQ28Je4NqycHnM0Jj9YY/s1600/IMG_0124.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipUCg3ZrMF9v-oXp5waIKtcYkgLUbFjYOWblQcbea0bmrSHNYexOYkNYdV06bNc4eW9Q-hk7sF_4eQ7zGVaSeDj_bZcjpm9B9OwAeqT8KyYJEDzTqn__V3UpvlBQ28Je4NqycHnM0Jj9YY/s320/IMG_0124.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-39858629903099468002013-04-24T09:15:00.004-07:002013-04-24T09:15:33.977-07:00Wheeeere's Walker?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
After scanning the backyard and garage, I couldn't find Walker. I then found him below. He had been sitting in his stroller for at least 10 minutes which is nothing short of a miracle for an 18 month old.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKTmoFaYxpFyTENLEHo793L-Ugz3P-KXYRMB0THL1fySlALlCFWjWyJn6WRv6VlGwKuf22uQyXQh8ZDPP1T8931u9vwiApowsoNpRYtFMR05YxPuGsgKPJAIa5zgcNm6yzjZ_xAdaA2Wlw/s1600/IMG_0089.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKTmoFaYxpFyTENLEHo793L-Ugz3P-KXYRMB0THL1fySlALlCFWjWyJn6WRv6VlGwKuf22uQyXQh8ZDPP1T8931u9vwiApowsoNpRYtFMR05YxPuGsgKPJAIa5zgcNm6yzjZ_xAdaA2Wlw/s400/IMG_0089.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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My little sneaker! </div>
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Gotta watch this one but he sure is cute!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8uJlAM1cse2nGta5_2j0Pe6ZrCQSh87UMTomKdJsZzTHK9mRWufcm9hZS0_zsDUAXZFQ7xeInNZSibEmvnuGonUxdp4GQP3e_WFm-fBP3lJMBz3V3qIkYZF695LHpmYEIHv4mAHzZZ7dy/s1600/IMG_0091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8uJlAM1cse2nGta5_2j0Pe6ZrCQSh87UMTomKdJsZzTHK9mRWufcm9hZS0_zsDUAXZFQ7xeInNZSibEmvnuGonUxdp4GQP3e_WFm-fBP3lJMBz3V3qIkYZF695LHpmYEIHv4mAHzZZ7dy/s400/IMG_0091.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-60008274635873618692013-04-24T09:08:00.001-07:002013-04-24T09:08:50.509-07:00Sucker!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Yup. Mom got suckered into a purchase at Target. It's so hard when $12.00 can buy such unrestrained joy (and hours of occupation as your son fights imaginary ninjas in the backyard).</div>
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Look at that face. </div>
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His smile is so big he might strain something in his face!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3SmzijopWvJh5VGAIGte-2NmFx9L6W1BKRj1tHRMfH6Iqicr8xaM86iXCGYnpMwf2N8W0MjGXOlqqikWLz0I3RyZPbDwEDqJX5bKRfVZEsYmjpbw84KD_9_s4Mv7tivHPo3qTj1UfcIPw/s1600/IMG_0056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3SmzijopWvJh5VGAIGte-2NmFx9L6W1BKRj1tHRMfH6Iqicr8xaM86iXCGYnpMwf2N8W0MjGXOlqqikWLz0I3RyZPbDwEDqJX5bKRfVZEsYmjpbw84KD_9_s4Mv7tivHPo3qTj1UfcIPw/s640/IMG_0056.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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So the mask leaves a little something to be desired...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTZSSeDfxtDh5BKjiWXK-b2Dokki45tUPcQyP9g0kgsMEdDv4acxyVGy2BkIF0y94RD8H7nzzyRP4qrKqj0ypyU-70P_siHN9LnxzomuswqdU5FODQR2jZiWSkMh1Xkys6R6suidBj2You/s1600/IMG_0057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTZSSeDfxtDh5BKjiWXK-b2Dokki45tUPcQyP9g0kgsMEdDv4acxyVGy2BkIF0y94RD8H7nzzyRP4qrKqj0ypyU-70P_siHN9LnxzomuswqdU5FODQR2jZiWSkMh1Xkys6R6suidBj2You/s640/IMG_0057.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Wy loves these so much he insists on sleeping with them which means he is developing quite the arsenal in his bed (swords, three pronged thingies, daggers, a shotgun and a stuffed horse & coyote-the last two aren't weapons unless you count the fact that he launches them at his baby brother)<br />
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He is sure turning into "all boy" lately!<br />
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<br />Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-21891223192136809672013-04-18T20:10:00.000-07:002013-04-18T20:10:46.403-07:00Wrong Decade<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
So Shelby has my hair, and, I hate to brag, but I have always said I have awesome 80s hair. </div>
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Unfortunately we live in 2013.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjysH5tmTfyQ0I7ge2jFPBrux5rAPboaW9ax30x7hVtnWRMEmID5vp8lTtY_NABRl9pDl_Tjs-CNXuXO1njwhb1QeEVo8wDdj4nhZUP13R1OZu3-J3B2ec7gGV0I4eWWlX5FOWFmEqsx3Rb/s1600/IMG_0065.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjysH5tmTfyQ0I7ge2jFPBrux5rAPboaW9ax30x7hVtnWRMEmID5vp8lTtY_NABRl9pDl_Tjs-CNXuXO1njwhb1QeEVo8wDdj4nhZUP13R1OZu3-J3B2ec7gGV0I4eWWlX5FOWFmEqsx3Rb/s400/IMG_0065.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Uncanny, yes?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyuyZSdlUFaWx1Z5PRi8BqOKzbk7YxrwV1v9SkZ8FzuCGgEocuf_YOpaUdppTS2xMrH3qlwuufBkyFJDl1W2UBQ3z5THbHpkoLV8EXBl0GIIU3wz6DIu1izvaqTZrkuvgRgmhK4yoMNG9P/s1600/Whitesnake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyuyZSdlUFaWx1Z5PRi8BqOKzbk7YxrwV1v9SkZ8FzuCGgEocuf_YOpaUdppTS2xMrH3qlwuufBkyFJDl1W2UBQ3z5THbHpkoLV8EXBl0GIIU3wz6DIu1izvaqTZrkuvgRgmhK4yoMNG9P/s320/Whitesnake.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I say curly-haired girls unite! Throw away your flat irons and embrace the volume! </div>
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Who is with me? </div>
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We are practically there! The headband is making a resurgence and I've noticed studs cropping back up in clothing. We are one step away from glamour shots people!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuoUQCm14wSkblBYViO3HQzInwiCRkawdGeFZE42qkoRRNONjhtHmR-15dW0O_4wV9wpNXTux7tRwrOdPBmgXjqPHvc924kV1YuF0cEBar4GSHn0_Dmp1oAClK_Kn2AcaJsqZ5B2wHTia1/s1600/61.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuoUQCm14wSkblBYViO3HQzInwiCRkawdGeFZE42qkoRRNONjhtHmR-15dW0O_4wV9wpNXTux7tRwrOdPBmgXjqPHvc924kV1YuF0cEBar4GSHn0_Dmp1oAClK_Kn2AcaJsqZ5B2wHTia1/s320/61.jpg" width="259" /></a></div>
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Together we CAN return to hair's era of awesomeness!</div>
<br />Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-81993215165133672842013-04-09T08:04:00.000-07:002013-04-09T08:07:03.732-07:001st Dove Hunt<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So Daddy asked our not quite 4 year old if he wanted to go dove hunting with him one Saturday afternoon. Normally I would be worried about him getting "ants in the pants" thirty minutes into it, but he did wait patiently for OVER AN HOUR to take a picture with the Heisman trophy (Dad was ready to bail but Wy insisted he wanted to stay). So off they went where I later received the picture below. </div>
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I will refer to this one as the BEFORE picture...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizIeJRd_1Y8f55DgROh86F8pVP9_2HW3LmeI6EzuHxvbg37A5x-Pkvya3tQndqwwxsPHveEM1rAE1rW1HY6Rg-FSmPnpNdGUyckRf1l4Cc1O7rIV1-_IZc8IubeILeIKY9iyQJoLfkCpWe/s1600/IMG_0052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizIeJRd_1Y8f55DgROh86F8pVP9_2HW3LmeI6EzuHxvbg37A5x-Pkvya3tQndqwwxsPHveEM1rAE1rW1HY6Rg-FSmPnpNdGUyckRf1l4Cc1O7rIV1-_IZc8IubeILeIKY9iyQJoLfkCpWe/s400/IMG_0052.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Here is the AFTER...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWTPvTp195Fxm_fFofCpodAD2TXKKWNXTTcQQnNdHFNTt5FHWym0hqYkQ4Gb-xFbuFSvvZCvxAGYRwNzG0VqpTQw7-TqDI8x24-_DJodfj-5j_OFD99AHACMS1lGojCw_IZd1zaxonXRqn/s1600/IMG_0046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWTPvTp195Fxm_fFofCpodAD2TXKKWNXTTcQQnNdHFNTt5FHWym0hqYkQ4Gb-xFbuFSvvZCvxAGYRwNzG0VqpTQw7-TqDI8x24-_DJodfj-5j_OFD99AHACMS1lGojCw_IZd1zaxonXRqn/s400/IMG_0046.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Please note the dirt on his face and the random rope he found in the field that still sits in our outdoor toy box. </div>
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Another side note: Seth keeps trying to throw away what he insists is trash, and I insist are the kids' favorite toys. Case in point- the frayed rope above.</div>
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Ok kids, gather around the dead animal and say "cheese." </div>
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Nothing says "Texas" like a picture with camo and your kill.</div>
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<br />Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-22645668485442962182013-04-09T07:34:00.003-07:002013-04-09T07:34:33.857-07:00Unexpected Gift<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Uncle Chris and (soon-to-be) Aunt Stephanie asked Shelby and Wyatt to be in their wedding this summer by sending them personalized pencil cases full of goodies including a ring pop (important fact for later). </div>
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Unfortunately I should have told them that my kids don't really love surprise gifts all that much. I think it's pretty obvious here that Shelby is only putting on a good show to make everyone feel better.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZMzRh5HlW2AC-eliIGCjQkFJCTxEnizfW8gTuq-tOTIcxUXRUM-qAPFeTZM4qCVAu-Yj_v_amwbAEyxsnY6WZBeavOh-yK360Tke-jr8HblbrTC7JfyCCrBESikieSTx3P8RKKGJJmrld/s1600/IMG_0032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZMzRh5HlW2AC-eliIGCjQkFJCTxEnizfW8gTuq-tOTIcxUXRUM-qAPFeTZM4qCVAu-Yj_v_amwbAEyxsnY6WZBeavOh-yK360Tke-jr8HblbrTC7JfyCCrBESikieSTx3P8RKKGJJmrld/s400/IMG_0032.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Even Wyatt managed a weak smile over stickers. He tried to pretend he liked them by promptly covering the house, himself, and his younger brother in them, but I saw through his charade.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp2bfoJKrYXU0d3ahlF0CL_hNDJjgvOO4ep62G9VfA77XDgq-D4yjEQrqyTgUVrBcnYT6BoDP-hWnUQ3bQv7q-B4otjTA_oOevUEyBwT91EB3HppEgfiCU135bYNfyx64zchS7kG6icurl/s1600/IMG_0035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp2bfoJKrYXU0d3ahlF0CL_hNDJjgvOO4ep62G9VfA77XDgq-D4yjEQrqyTgUVrBcnYT6BoDP-hWnUQ3bQv7q-B4otjTA_oOevUEyBwT91EB3HppEgfiCU135bYNfyx64zchS7kG6icurl/s400/IMG_0035.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Yep. An entire family eligible for an Oscar <i>pretending</i> they are thrilled OUT OF THEIR MINDS by the unexpected package in the mail. (The funny part here is that Walker has no clue what he is holding yet is still smiling like it's Christmas)</div>
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After some of the initial excitement died down, I thought to whip out the camera since it seems like the last time I filmed might have been when Shelby started walking. </div>
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What I ended up filming made me cry.</div>
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My husband teased me about re-watching this video so many times, but I think all the other mothers out there will see why I have come to treasure this unexpected moment with one of my children. Sometimes as moms we seem to constantly be pouring into our kids with no immediately visible fruit to show for it. Yet, here I was given a moment where I could see that they are listening, and thinking, and remembering beyond their next snack or tv show.</div>
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Yes, an unscripted moment.</div>
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An unexpected gift.</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(*Important background: we packed ring pops in our Operation Christmas Child shoeboxes for the orphans)</span></i><br />
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<br />Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-87368344008877605982013-03-19T11:04:00.001-07:002013-03-25T11:07:25.097-07:00Final Artwork of 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Shelby's tragic tale of a Christmas gone awry...</div>
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Wyatt's Christmas card from his class...Jabba the Hut style</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdcJHUzckmZCtoQ4u55CwxID-KXONq3pL306wYMJBcHq7zkPhQCQLyWojwHTOs_xv_uPBabs7bYik-xTE98y0cXG5klH5R5n7w__WrlQyPRz2w5V3JdjwirUJtaG3fIJv8lRd35WQrEBMC/s1600/IMG_0070.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdcJHUzckmZCtoQ4u55CwxID-KXONq3pL306wYMJBcHq7zkPhQCQLyWojwHTOs_xv_uPBabs7bYik-xTE98y0cXG5klH5R5n7w__WrlQyPRz2w5V3JdjwirUJtaG3fIJv8lRd35WQrEBMC/s640/IMG_0070.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
Anyone else think ol' Mary and Joseph look a little like some sci-fi worm gone wrong?Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-49062072365937102152013-03-19T10:55:00.000-07:002013-03-19T11:01:12.416-07:00Aggie Bama Game!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The real key is to start them young. That way they are entirely brainwashed by the time they fill out applications at 18.</div>
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We begin with buying them Aggie paraphernalia. </div>
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Johnny Football jersey: check</div>
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Aggie football: check</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVoSb4vboYUXAL5WPStNbeSK32rr0JZIHEft8X4b8jGNHTk2WAtOtv0TYZisP6yo-Az0N13uUqzjVmR3dG2hr1zSfDaV0kCHxieljy7OOURGMlE7AMs2HU0ipHo6qayVo9h4T6wF-qbbnZ/s1600/IMG_0021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVoSb4vboYUXAL5WPStNbeSK32rr0JZIHEft8X4b8jGNHTk2WAtOtv0TYZisP6yo-Az0N13uUqzjVmR3dG2hr1zSfDaV0kCHxieljy7OOURGMlE7AMs2HU0ipHo6qayVo9h4T6wF-qbbnZ/s400/IMG_0021.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Aggie "leatherhead" hat: check (bonus points for the homage to Aggie history)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbc3T0sxjNVGGesG0Qs9-g1valrRdgsDVgGTCwR4ZWMn1YzRMYx0egejbVqiyAAJJYNCK4EpPtXy92Xf6zzvKM_DHA4HxlUY6dyEMD8JOI5QrxYmMgeY_53kzGKa-4RMdnE3BkW4SDoGqK/s1600/IMG_0019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbc3T0sxjNVGGesG0Qs9-g1valrRdgsDVgGTCwR4ZWMn1YzRMYx0egejbVqiyAAJJYNCK4EpPtXy92Xf6zzvKM_DHA4HxlUY6dyEMD8JOI5QrxYmMgeY_53kzGKa-4RMdnE3BkW4SDoGqK/s400/IMG_0019.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Awesome display of future Aggie muscles: check<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimNxYVawIboXO9mjnohO0t50SCMPC1X1c_6hWxydGOGCwkUo2hVUKIUmmAIH4cu-ITiPVFiGrMU8ewWRFv84Hsorta2PYLJ62hcjEubL5EAMQST7pjwClroBAE1fggVQGczDqbmjlE3b0M/s1600/IMG_0024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimNxYVawIboXO9mjnohO0t50SCMPC1X1c_6hWxydGOGCwkUo2hVUKIUmmAIH4cu-ITiPVFiGrMU8ewWRFv84Hsorta2PYLJ62hcjEubL5EAMQST7pjwClroBAE1fggVQGczDqbmjlE3b0M/s400/IMG_0024.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Poor inflatable that is a stand-in for all Aggie opponents: check<br />
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It doesn't hurt that Daddy is so into the game he is starting to sweat and all thoughts of a decent bedtime are out the window. With games like the 2012 Aggie Alabama game, who needs brainwashing?</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Gig 'Em Aggies!!!</span></div>
<br />Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-48605118237149390472013-03-06T09:39:00.000-08:002013-03-06T09:39:42.612-08:00Future Author/Illustrator?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Shortly after reading "The Gingerbread Man" in Shelby's class, that sneaky little cookie disappeared from their classroom and was spotted all over the world via postcards from family. To say that Shelby was engaged in Gingerbread Man's journeys would be an understatement. Her daily drawings began to get a little more gingerbread-y...</div>
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(This is obviously not her greatest work to date. It looks like someone punched the Gingerbread Man in the mouth which is not a total shocker since his little "run run as fast as you can" line is a little obnoxious. Cruisin' for a brusin' with that one.)</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5LaT752NomX6hkxpdGVwOQOVOsNPWMHvnk-sXoMNKTstyM81EXp9gbdQipDiPnDXkFs06Kf1JD294CPE3Ue9A-j3wO9t8qPudl54CMWK6CDdmPo3kJX17oH5_s3ip5FgOY2kaVW0eJr09/s1600/IMG_0015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5LaT752NomX6hkxpdGVwOQOVOsNPWMHvnk-sXoMNKTstyM81EXp9gbdQipDiPnDXkFs06Kf1JD294CPE3Ue9A-j3wO9t8qPudl54CMWK6CDdmPo3kJX17oH5_s3ip5FgOY2kaVW0eJr09/s640/IMG_0015.jpg" width="480" /></a><br />
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Here are a few samples that I got of Shelby's budding artistry. </div>
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I present to you...</div>
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The Gingerbread Man series by Shelby</div>
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In this tale, we discover the softer side of our young gingerbread friend as he spends his days frolicking in the family bakery with his best bud the Pillsbury Doughboy.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ3r9mZu0gIA5zUL7x_1W-6JGdGqmLoKgtj0XKB3-Pyst6MoC6-lRo5VmM7SraGodE1xDCO0QvcaeN0S1P89Dql_uew4pZiw6SXsMljAJkxVq_XUqC9q24D-WP1uk5Lx6o8XDVtbuFfUbJ/s1600/IMG_0013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ3r9mZu0gIA5zUL7x_1W-6JGdGqmLoKgtj0XKB3-Pyst6MoC6-lRo5VmM7SraGodE1xDCO0QvcaeN0S1P89Dql_uew4pZiw6SXsMljAJkxVq_XUqC9q24D-WP1uk5Lx6o8XDVtbuFfUbJ/s640/IMG_0013.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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In this darker version, our crusty pirate friend loses an eye to the great white gull and is tragically dissolved by a giant wave in the end.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXvLq_XK2lUsRpOTMI06coTQEsch58W9EEIbFRoHEFpwJkH0vWVcQ3uXGxOLdrlRergDHSYgrQGT1q0QjMVJUpVK49X9OtS9lJt0glS1kJLQRzkn-4F5BG3Nr5U1kcs75q5v7Q2ar5PrAZ/s1600/IMG_0014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXvLq_XK2lUsRpOTMI06coTQEsch58W9EEIbFRoHEFpwJkH0vWVcQ3uXGxOLdrlRergDHSYgrQGT1q0QjMVJUpVK49X9OtS9lJt0glS1kJLQRzkn-4F5BG3Nr5U1kcs75q5v7Q2ar5PrAZ/s640/IMG_0014.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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The plot for "Gingerbread Princess" is a little thin but she does enjoy changing out her candy buttons daily and spinning fresh cotton candy hair in the castle candy room. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd69hIV_OsbD6qadG3xU17PyJcAowixTv0ri71p3RCnWOym3zYqZM6LzhScAiDx0OsiUD9hR0uIAsmcNTdMdikwvXxLBt9_cbwbOHMWdaEhDeSk67NoevQdy8ex6Qqkaj5EFyoFAuV2fyw/s1600/IMG_0012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd69hIV_OsbD6qadG3xU17PyJcAowixTv0ri71p3RCnWOym3zYqZM6LzhScAiDx0OsiUD9hR0uIAsmcNTdMdikwvXxLBt9_cbwbOHMWdaEhDeSk67NoevQdy8ex6Qqkaj5EFyoFAuV2fyw/s640/IMG_0012.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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(My greatest regret this Christmas was not getting all her variations of the Gingerbread Man. They were my morning highlight.)<br />
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On another note, Aunt Tracy taught her how to write her name in cursive. The "fancy" writing is a HUGE HIT!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirTa1W2AS3ZkJAIBKebrL1INVpE473DIHWZSrGkcROyMEnHzWffEgRB8y2f-FDOs84I9Mf-QsGt3CJrfTA5vhhBsEX4lTENJH28-MBxmfMfehiKa1RGmLJ7lRrAN_kHTzHeZvkty-y61Gv/s1600/IMG_0010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirTa1W2AS3ZkJAIBKebrL1INVpE473DIHWZSrGkcROyMEnHzWffEgRB8y2f-FDOs84I9Mf-QsGt3CJrfTA5vhhBsEX4lTENJH28-MBxmfMfehiKa1RGmLJ7lRrAN_kHTzHeZvkty-y61Gv/s640/IMG_0010.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1444955245391206871.post-47579867031889746372013-03-05T08:16:00.000-08:002013-03-05T08:18:10.009-08:00Copy Cat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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* It should be noted here that the blow up in this video is officially dead. </div>
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*Can you tell I'm really enjoying being a boy mom?</div>
Landry Lovin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/01152948165303522975noreply@blogger.com0