Friday, March 4, 2011

Photobooth Friday: Have You Seen Me


We are desperately seeking our little red vest. Favorite red vest, with the puppy zipper tog.

Mason and I lost it together, I suspect. Because he was probably wearing it, and then promptly decided I should carry. Anyway, that's what I'm thinking. I am so frustrated that I can't find it. And this is the perfect weather for wearing it. Grrrr...

If it shows up, please bring it over.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Patron Saint of Water Fowl



My Mas has a tender heart. The colder it gets outside, the warmer his compassion fires. Passing the frozen golf course pond he cooed, "You know, I wish I could save one of those duckies from the golf course."

As a mother adverse to animal poo, I was reticent to ask how.

But he said, "I would just catch 'em and then ... ummm... wrap 'em up in my bed."

Oh lord, may I survive his charity.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Photobooth Friday, The Thaw

We're ready for spring!

Monday, February 21, 2011

The Gymnast


The gymnastics experiment is wildly popular. I'm only wondering about what Mason thinks gymnastics is. He seems to be connecting with the skateboarders, snowboarders, freerunners, martial artists, and bmx dare devils on TV instead of the chipper, flippy, sparkling girls aspiring to stick a round off, back handspring into a full twisty thingy at the gym.

The good thing is, there is a local parkour group who practices at his gym. The bad thing is, there is a local parkour group who practices at his gym. If you're familiar with parkour and you are a mother, you understand my dilemma. Mason is obviously only permitted to observe these dynamos. But encouraging this type of sport is a little like encouraging your child to run with the bulls.


Parkour is sport. It's using your body, being fit, and doing what you think is cool -- not what others might value. A philosophy this mother can endorse. Parkour in some applications is jumping around in public spaces, bouncing off handrails, flying leaps across city scapes, dropping 20 feet or more and rascaling away into a handstand on an I-beam -- physically challenging moves which can look very showy, but also be hazardous. Something that arrests this mother's heart.
In reality, he's 4. He might forget about this when summer tennis starts.

Then again, he might not.


And just for fun... check out this photo. Taken directly after his first ride on the flying harness (picture up top). They unbuckled him and he fell back on the mat and said, "That was awesome!"

Sunday, February 20, 2011

King of the World



M: What would you do differently if you were king?
Coop: King of what?

M: What would you want to be king of?
Coop: A castle

M: Where would your castle be?
Coop: I don't know.

M: What would it look like?
Coop: Just grey metal, and then some flags.

M: What color flags?
Coop: Any color with little castle pictures.

M: Would you have a queen?
Coop: I don't know. (Makes gross-out face.)

M: Would you have a bishop?
Coop: Yes, I would.

M: What would you do inside your castle?
Coop: I usually... ummm we just sit. Kings just sit down until the other team, the dark team, comes. Okay, I'm all done. Bye mommy.

Interview over.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Photobooth Friday, On Saturday


So, a day late, and you shouldn't be surprised. Because that is how I roll. Always late. And for the most part, unapologetic. But, it's photobooth Friday nonetheless...

bonus question: Any idea what is going on here?

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Trust Me


A day or two ago I was upstairs and the boys were somewhere else. Far enough away that I didn't know what they were doing, but I could hear them talking. Then I heard Cooper say, "No Mason, it won't really hurt. Trust me."

It's times like these that I think back to the times when I convinced some of my brothers to do some fairly hideous stuff. Like the time, well actually times, I dressed at least two of them up like WWF entertainers and curled their hair with an itty-bitty curling iron. Then I smeared their eyelids with Mimi Bobeck-esque blue eye shadow, and their lips with a Donatella Versace shade of orange lipstick that you could see from space.

Then they ran around our basement and pretended to be professional wrestlers. It was awesome. It would be even more awesome if I had photographed them. Then I could blackmail them. And I would. Because, as they say, it won't really hurt. Trust me.

PHOTO NOTE: Is Mason's face saying, "Trust you? You're kidding, right?"