Boys & Dogs who LOVE Baseball.

Having to wrest your beloved baseball out of the
mouth of large dog, REPEATEDLY, teaches
you something. Throwing down with an animal
twice your body weight...you learn how to handle
yourself a little bit.

The lecture on the mound...THIS is MY ball.

The catcher deals with interference.

And again...pick up, throw, catch plus
lots of interesting faces and some spit.


You MUST spit. There IS spitting in baseball.


He LOOKS ready. He's ready, RIGHT?

He looks innocent enough BUT don't be fooled.
He's STALKING.


AND he steals it AGAIN.


Are you ready to rumble?


GIMME the ball. DROP IT!


Robey feigns repentance, the boys get that ball and are back at it.


Shaking off his catcher's call and throwing his own stuff.

Catcher's not happy. Pitcher is going it alone.
What will he throw?


And the pitcher brings the blazing HEAT!
YOU'RE OUTTA THERE BATTER! OUCH!


*nOTe* Dear God, when my baby boy is a baseball ROCKSTAR,
please don't let him date Madonna or use steroids. Thanks & Amen.

Wee Willy Winky

A peak inside one of our early mornings,
on a day when Wee Willy Winky stole my sweatshirt.
He's unspeakably rotten.

THAT face...

SO, he wants to wash dishes
and for once there was no earthly reason
to say no. FOR ONCE, I wasn't too busy
and...we caught the moment.

I hate to think of all the times that I probably
miss opportunities to freeze a moment.
I don't EVER want to forget this time,
these moments, THIS face.

The baby-ness is almost gone...ALMOST...
but there are still glimpses and they are so precious,
so fleeting. I will MISS this.

The curve of a chubby cheek, sun bouncing off
bed-tousled curls, rambunctiously rotten smirks that
are a seriously reliable indicator of impending mischief,
the slowly fading fact that, right now, momma is his best girl,
and the look he gets when he learns or discovers...

OH, my heart...it jumps then explodes with JOY.

THAT face...it helps light my soul.

OH, yes, YES, I most certainly did...

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by
MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what
she and everyone else have not been doing this week.



SO...my mother-in-law sends me this nice birthday card
with a nice little check and says, "send me a picture
of what you do with the money."

WELL...Jan, here's your picture. It is not absolute
proof that when I went for the pedicure that I
DESPERATELY needed with Isaac in tow, he picked
out his color, plopped his little feet up for the nail-tech
and got his done too.


He did not proceed for the next two to three days
to strip his socks and shoes off EVERY time we
encountered someone who had not seen his cool,
sparkly, "Shrek" green, still boy toes.
He does not still exclaim daily that he
wants to go to the "toe store" every day.


It is not my technology addicted husband and I who have
inadvertently spawned children who have their own
technological addiction issues.
Everyone say "sproutonline.com"