I have a new nephew!

Welcome, sweet Christoper Michael!! I cannot wait to meet you and hold you and give you a smooch right on the forehead!

Unfortunately between school, 3+ hours in the car commuting, a kiddo of my own who needs some sort of schedule in order to function and a husband who is STILL plugging away at work as I type this (at nearly 10 pm), I couldn't get to the hospital, another hour+ drive each way, today. I'm going to try try try to go tomorrow morning, but if I can't make that work, It'll have to be on Friday since Thursday is a 14+ hour day for me.

WAH! I wanna meet my nephew!! I have a photo (thanks, Jaelan!!), but it wouldn't be fair for me to post that on the internet before my photographer sister gets the chance to post one of her own. He is, after all, her child.

January 18, 2009

A day's worth of pictures. :)

Our relatively new kitty - we got him on Christmas Eve. He was nameless for a long time, then mom came to visit and decided his name must be Sylvester. I sort of think he looks like he just crawled out of the Pet Sematary in this picture.

Katy - THE happiest dog on the planet.

Sylvester and Chelsae are hunting partners.
No telling what they've got in their sights here.

Kitty and Katy are not the best of friends - maybe it's because
the cat doesn't respect Katy's toy boundaries.

Aaron thinks he and kitty ARE the best of friends.
I'm pretty sure I see fear in those feline eyes.

Forced kitty love. At least Sylvester's a pretty good sport about it. He purrs his fool head off when Aaron picks him up.

Sweet Chelsae Butter. She's getting to be an old girl!

Aaron and Daddy going over the airplane controls

This airplane was a Christmas gift for Pressly.

He and Aaron built it and he has deemed it Aaron's trainer.

Happy Birthday to my Fave Hippie!

Here's an awesome cake from PinkCakeBox for my Dr. Seuss loving mom.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Love ya'

Manna from ... heaven?

I think once I poked fun at my sister Jessica for owning a rice cooker. Why would you buy a rice cooker? I think I said something to the effect of "I have a rice cooker - it's called a pan with a lid!"

After several failed attempts at cooking edible brown rice I decided to buy a cooker. The rice turned out perfectly and I didn't have to watch the pan for an hour or more!

So remembering some yummy cafeteria fare from my youth, I mixed some butter and brown sugar into the leftover rice, took a few bites then shared the rest with Aaron. His reaction? "This is SO DELICIOUS!!" I agree - it was pretty darn tasty. Plus, it was long grain brown rice, so it was chock full of fiber and other tasty nutrients. :D

I don't talk to hippies!

Me: Are you ready for a hair cut? You’re starting to look like a hippie.

Aaron: What’s a hippie?

Me: (squirming a bit) A hippie is someone from the 1960’s and 1970’s who let their hair grow really long. They also didn’t follow all the laws or rules of society, but instead had their own ideas of how society should be and they believed in peace and love.

Aaron: Was your grandpa a hippie?

Me: No, my grandpa was not a hippie.

Aaron: Well, were any of your ancestors hippies? (ancestors?!?)

Me: No, Not that I know…. Oh wait! Your Nana was a hippie! (how could I have forgotten about my own MOM?)

Aaron: (in a fit of giggles) Really? Your mom was a hippie?

Me: Yep – you want to call her and ask her?

Aaron: No! I don’t talk to hippies!!

Me: You talk to your Nana all the time!

Aaron: That was before I knew she was a hippie.

Maybe someday I'll make us some cream cheese, alfalfa sprout and black olive sandwiches like his hippie grandma used to make for me.

You Can't Hit a Home Run Every Time

Or so my wise husband says.

Christmas was really nice this year. I didn't battle the usual range of emotions I typically face around the holidays. Usually, I get really excited early (around Halloween), then in the midst of preparing for Christmas, sometime between Thanksgiving and the middle of December, I slip into a real funk. This year that wasn't the case at all, and it was so nice. I did miss the "up" part of the manic cycle a bit, but not having to deal with the "down" part was more than worth missing the euphoric phase.

So we prepared for Christmas, decorated the house, bought our gifts, wrapped most of them before Christmas eve, and had everything ready for Christmas. Here's where the not-hitting-a-homerun part comes in. Aaron's reaction to his Santa gifts was flat, to say the least. He got a new bicycle, some Batman legos he's been asking for, a game for his Wii, some puzzles and two coveted Webkinz. Oh, and a 4' tall stocking crammed full of stuff. He walked into the living room, looked at the bicycle, looked over it to see what was behind it, looked around the room without even cracking a smile then went for his stocking. Pressly and I were sort of just stunned. All we could do was look at one another and shrug.

In retrospect, I think we identified the problem. You see, Santa didn't bring Aaron anything that was on his list this year. Maybe because that blasted list contained things:
a) that simply don't exist (a particular Transformer Mini-Con that exists only on the video games)
b) which were unreasonable (the minifigures from various retired Lego sets selling for $50++ EACH on ebay - just the figures, not the sets!!)
c) that were simply not possible to get (a Webkinz that hasn't been released yet)

Oh, and his list changed about 48bazillion times. No exaggeration. (c'mon - I don't exaggerate!)

We explained to Aaron that Santa's magic can only stretch so far. I'm afraid the boy is doing the "math." He's very smart, but also a real dreamer who believes in magic and miracles. At least he hasn't cracked open the Encyclopedia to look up the entry on Santa Claus. (yet).

Success(es)!!!

I got my grades for this semester - 4.0 bay-bee!

Pressly and I got all the Christmas cards addressed last night, and I actually got to the post office with them this morning!

I finally purchased frames and mats for some prints I've had for quite a while. Now I need to decide where I'm going to hang these beauties.

Many of our Christmas gifts are wrapped.

I got groceries and the last few stocking stuffers purchased today, so I don't have to fight the retail crowds any more!

I used up some brisket that's been in our freezer for a while - I made yummy taco soup with it!

Christmas Excitement

We're in the midst of preparing for Christmas around here. Gifts have been purchased, (some have even been wrapped!), and school's out until early January.

Aaron built a fabulous Gingerbread house and only ate some of the frosting and candy decorations. As the photos progress, notice the direct correlation between the amount of frosting on the gingerbread house and the amount of frosting on Aaron's person.

And I got a pedicure with a gorgeous Christmas shade of red w/ red sparkles. It was over 70 degrees on Friday, hence the flip-flops. ;)
Pressly still has shopping to do, bless his heart. He'll be out in full force Monday with the rest of the last-minute-shopping crazies. I offered to buy for myself, but he would have none of that.

I designed and ordered our Christmas cards today (yes, I do realize it's December 21st. They will go in the mail tomorrow, and they will either show up before Christmas or after, but they will get there, at least!

Today Aaron and I are wrapping gifts, then I suspect I'll need to do some laundry - I'm pretty sure my poor husband wore the same pair of jeans to work today that he wore yesterday. Fun times!

No Stress

I realized today that my skin has cleared up. I can't attribute it to any change in my skin care routine, but I have been aware of feeling calmer the past week or so. This first semester back at school has been thrilling and more gratifying than I could have possibly imagined. I'm sure at some point I'll be fed up with school and be ready to be done, but for now I just love learning.

Tomorrow I have two final exams and must turn in a field work report which I thought was a relatively minor assignment, but it turned into a 24 page monster. I think I did a good job on the report, and have no anxiety over the exams. I have to score a 52 on one of them to ensure an A for the semester, and I haven't calculated what I need on the other one because I only have 2 of the 4 grades for that class, but I'm confident that I'll pull an A in that class also. The only unknown is my writing class, and making an A in that class is contingent upon making a B+ or better on that paper. I never got to the point that I felt overwhelmed this semester (well, not after the initial adjustment period anyway). Granted, I took only 9 hours, but after being out of school for so long I didn't really know what to expect. Pressly, Aaron and I are adjusting to the changes that have come with shaking things up and I think we'll all survive. Next semester I'm taking 18 hours.

So maybe the title of my post isn't completely accurate. I do have a little bit of stress, but my psych teacher says small amounts of stress can be beneficial. At least my skin has cleared up. I never had breakouts as a teenager, but as a 33 year old woman, I'm paying my dues. Nice.

Oh, hug someone you love today. You never know when they might be gone for good.

Sly Fox

Look at this sly fox we spotted hiding amongst the trees.



Don't worry - there aren't a lot of red foxes roaming the wilderness in Kaufman these days. Aaron has a report on the Cherokee tribe due Monday, and we've been working on it for almost two weeks now. He had to research their habitat, housing structure, food, and social habits and write a report with illustrations. While he presents his report to the class, he is supposed to have a 3-D visual aide. He wanted it to be a lot more elaborate, but mommy's paper mache and hot glue skills only go so far.

He is pleased with the final result, and has some very green fingers to prove his involvement in the proces. we needed to make trees, and I had originally thought we'd just paint some cotton balls. Have you ever tried to paint a cotton ball? It doesn't work. So plan B (improvisation is my middle name) called for a little water, some green food dye and the use of our clothes dryer. It worked, but cleaning the dryer wasn't so much fun.


Here's hoping A-Rock enjoys giving his report to the class. He's learned a lot about the Cherokee, including the fact that they were not nomadic and did not live in teepees. And some of the men wore scaplocks and 'porcupine roaches,' which you can Google if you want to know more.

Holiday Baking!

Aaron brought home a small pumpkin from his fieldtrip to the pumpkin patch before Halloween. Somewhere between there and here, he hatched a scheme to make a pie with it. Not wanting to be the mommy who dashed his dreams, I agreed.

So I faithfully cleaned out the pumpkin and steamed it last weekend in preparation. And found out that even though my recipe says one 8" pie pumpkin is enough, this one wasn't. A mad search for pie pumpkins ensued, and I finally found a few at Brookshire's. I had to pick through what was left and find two that weren't rotten. Luckily, I got what we needed. So I steamed those last night. And managed to run the pan out of water, which smelled up the entire house.

Finally, FINALLY we had enough steamed pumpkin for a couple of decent pies. The next step was to make the glop smooth and creamy.

That stuff is messy! Eeeewww, my finger!

Once the pumpkin glop was sufficiently silky, Aaron and I rolled out the crusts.

Then we measured out all the ingredients. Aaron thinks it's funny that I crack eggs with a butter knife. Interesting how the granite guy forgot to mention that rounded edges on countertops do not lend themselves well to cracking eggs.

I let Aaron do the mixing. Power tools, y'know. Notice all the flour on his sleeves. He loves to cook!
(Don't worry - we didn't put any Karo Syrup in the pumpkin pie - it's for the pecan pies we're making next.)

Once Chef Aaron was satisfied that the mixture was adequately beaten, I poured it into the crusts.

The pies are in the oven now, and they smell yummy! Maybe I can get photos before the pies are desecrated so I'll have something to post about tomorrow.

It Never Hurts to Ask

First, a little dose of humility:
Last Thursday, Pressly surprised me out of the blue with an iPhone 3G. I was surprised and more than a little touched. I was also quite enamored with my new phone. I found myself fondling it repeatedly on Friday any time I had a break from wrangling a class full of 5 year olds.

Friday night while I was at the football game to watch my youngest sister twirl, I was excited to show everyone some photos I had snapped with it. After showing it off a little, I put it back into my pocket and turned my head. About that time, Jaelan exclaimed, "Oh no!" and I looked just in time to see my phone fall. Jordan and her boyfriend graciously retrieved it for me. I was worried someone else would snatch it up before we could get to it. What I discovered next never even occured to me. The screen was shattered! Heartsick, I immediately called Pressly to tell him. I wanted to cry, but I was so upset and in the midst of many, many people I just couldn't.

I was just sick. Pressly suggested I go to the Apple store on Saturday and see if they would do anything at all. After hustling Aaron into the car (one badly stubbed toe and a walleyed fit later -- his toe, both of us may have been involved in the fit), I realized we were too late to make the appointment I had made with the Apple Geniuses. I decided we'd go ahead to the store and see if they could work me in, which they did! To my dismay, the only thing they would offer me was a replacement phone at the "promotional price" of $299. I calmly explained that I was not buying another phone for $299 and asked if there was anything else at all they could do. After going through the ranks, I ended up with the same answer. I really hoped they would offer to replace the screen for a reasonable price since, in my opinion, the fall should not have resulted in so much damage.

Still, the humility. I should not have taken such pride in a material possession.

I called Pressly to tell him the news and headed toward home. He had done some research and found a replacement screen for around $70 that he could replace himself.

It Never Hurts to Ask
This is a phrase my mom used to tell me all the time, but I've always had a problem practicing it. I have always felt like I am imposing if I ask for something outside of the norm or special consideration.

Once home from my fruitless trip the the Apple store, I posted my sad story on a message board for a group of friends who have been posting together on the internet for 10 years or so. One of my very wise virtual friends suggested I email Steve Jobs directly and tell him the story. She even provided an email address. I figured I didn't have anything to lose at that point, so Sunday night I sent an email to the address. It was pleasant and simply laid out the facts. Later that night, DH mentioned that he needed to order the screen and I half-jokingly told him not to bother because I had sent an email to Steve Jobs. He laughed at me and proceeded to order the screen.

By noon on Monday, I got a call from the general manager at the Apple store at NorthPark. She told me they were very sorry about my experience and that they want to replace my phone with a brand new one at no cost!! She then apologized that I'd need to come back to the store to facilitate the replacement. Hello? I'll spend some time and a little gasoline for that!

I hope I didn't come off as unappreciative on the phone because I think my reaction was a little flat. I was honestly in total shock and didn't know how to respond. That's not at all what I had in mind when I wrote in my email, "Is there anything Apple is willing to do for us?"

And since I closed my letter by telling Mr. Jobs that I would love to be able to tell friends and family how well Apple treated us when a freak accident caused unreasonable damage to my BRAND NEW phone (which incidentally, was our first Apple purchase ever):

APPLE ROCKS!!!!

soooo Sick

I'll be MIA for a while longer because I am SICK. This is what I get for bragging to someone recently that I have never had a flu shot and never get the flu. Don't think it's the flu, but I'm not a good sickie. Oh, and spending 7 hours a day with kindergarteners probably doesn't help. Do you realize that those little buggers are, well, booger factories? Ew. I have a funny story about subbing Kindergarten last Friday that I'll maybe write about when I feel better.


TTFN

I Spy

I see you, there, in that minivan. Yes, you. I saw you buying that 6-pack of chilled Natural Light at 7:15 this morning, too. Don't fool yourself - that Trident you bought won't erase the stench that was already on you... Stiffler's mom, you're going to have to change your wardrobe before you become a teacher. You're 40 and pretty, but your daughters must be embarrassed when you show up looking like that at Open House... Aspiring poet, you are not as fabulous as you think. You really should come to class, and quit prowling around Facebook when you are here because if you get busted, you'll screw it up for all of us who use our laptops for legitimate reasons... Trip-trop, trip-trop, who's that on my bridge? It is WAY too early in the day for your feet to be hurting that much. Maybe your too-cute boots weren't the best choice for traipsing all over campus today?...

Redemption!

Got my second paper back from my Writing and Literary Analysis class today.

My professor spent the entire class reading examples of people's papers and showing examples of secondary sources and credentials. He put up my paper to exemplify what I think is gross overstatement of the paper's topic (it is, however, how he wants us to write, so it was a good example). He also showed one of my source credentials and a copy of a Peanuts comic strip I included to clarify an allusion that one of my secondary sources made.

It was quite enlightening to see my paper displayed on that huge screen at the front of class because there were several typos (which he does not count off for!) Given the number of times that I edited and re-printed that paper, I thought it was perfect. Oops.

The last time he returned papers, I was excitedly confident that my writing was so good it would exempt me from any further assignments. Seriously - I half expected him to write "You have nothing more to learn! A++ for the class." (Narcissistic much?) This time, I sat in anguish waiting to see what the grade was. I kept running through my mind the things he said people didn't get right, and trying to remember what I had done on my paper. And remembering that we have only 3 or 4 grades for the whole semester and if I didn't make an A on this one, I could probably forget making an A in the class.

Anyway, in his rambling, I also learned that if you quote the Bible, he doesn't want it written as an actual quote, and he says the Bible doesn't belong on the Works Cited page, even though MLA standards say it does belong.

He said there were lots of people whose grades suffered because they still aren't following his prescribed formula. *Whew,* am I glad I caught on quickly!*

Last Page Comments: Good Job! A

*yay*

My First Substitute Assignment

Sooo.... I was really excited to get on the sub list in our school district. Everyone I've talked to says it's really tough to get a job in KISD, and I believe it, given the number of applications I've submitted over the last year+ for different positions in the district with absolutely no response. I've been told that they really like to hire off the sub list, and if I have a good track record once I graduate, I'll be more likely to get a teaching job in the district.

Last Friday was my first sub assignment. Aaron's friend's mom is the secretary at the Early Childhood Center (Pre-K and Kindergarten) and is in charge of calling subs. I asked her to call me anytime and she called right away! I subbed for the art teacher, and thought it would be a really fun day, if a little stressful because it was my first ever sub assignment. I was secretly relieved that my first experience would be with the little ones instead of the High School or Jr. High.

Oh my, what an education *I* got!

I learned:

-Never, ever, under any circumstances wear a distracting or otherwise interesting shirt when subbing with the under-6 set. I wore a scoop neck 3/4 sleeve shirt that was printed with a cityscape and accented with sequins and beads. D-I-S-T-R-A-C-T-I-O-N!

-It's not a good idea to pause the movie to try to get the kiddos to calm down when they are being too noisy. Apparently, it's a sign for them to get up, play with one another's hair, dance, sing, spin around, etc.

-Late afternoon is a time when various kiddos may or may not need to be medicated or re-medicated, even though their pediatrician may not necessarily think so. Or maybe they need to have had less sugar at lunch. Or a nap. If you try to make a special consideration for one of these kids, to keep them from disrupting the class, the other kids will not appreciate being "left out."

-A LOT of what I've learned in school this semester sounds really fantastic, but just does not work in the real-world. Seriously. Too bad we don't live in an ideal society with ideally behaved kids and ideal situations, because a lot of the stuff my education profs have said really made sense.

-Sometimes you have to raise your voice to get Kindergarteners to line up in a straight line with their hands behind their backs and a bubble in their mouths.

Fun, eh?

Seriously, I did enjoy the day and am looking forward (with maybe a teensy bit of trepidation) to subbing at the High School on Wednesday.

:D

Hey Mom, if you were...

I picked Aaron up from tutoring this afternoon, as I do every Tuesday and Thursday. He was in a pretty good mood. Most days this isn't the case because he *HATES* to go to tutoring. He doesn't really need the extra help and would much rather he were allowed to run about the school like a wild Indian instead of doing homework and reading. But it's a great solution for our Tuesday/Thursday after-school care needs -- At $5 per day, it beats the heck outta $65/week for him to go to daycare for those two days.

He was particularly bubbly and chatty, telling me about the make-believe game of Kirby baseball he and two friends made up and played at recess.


Aaron was really proud of his contribution to the game: He decided that he would have "infinite poison balls," his friend Chaz would have "infinite tornado balls" and his friend Brandon would have "infinite icicle balls." Now before you start giggling uncontrollably, there is no anatomical reference here. These are like baseballs, except they pack quite a (makebelieve) wallop and apparently the goal of THIS (fantasy) game is to pelt your opponents with your special (pretend) power balls in order to put them out of commission, which is admittedly nothing like the actual game of Baseball. This, my friends, is the sort of thing you get when three very intelligent 3rd grade boys get together to make up games on the playground.

Aaron has always had a very VERY active imagination and I'll confess that he has been known to exasperate me. A lot. Because he wants everyone to be as excited and involved in his fantasy as he is, and some days I just don't.have.the.energy.

So while we drove along, he chattered on and I nodded my head and interjected the occasional "Oh really?" or "Wow!" hoping that I seemed interested. We were almost home and he had been busily chatting about this mindless game for quite some time (7 minutes, 13 seconds) when he turned to me and said, "Hey Mom?" And I thought "enough already!!", but sweetly said, "Yes?"

" -- if you were a millipede, would you have some sort of mechanism to tell you when a trap door spider was nearby?"

Well, I should hope so! But more importantly, if I were a millipede, I would be able to justify more shoes.

Money Makes the Monkey Dance

A few weeks ago, I had my first assignment due in my literary analysis & writing class. Since English and grammar are sort of my thing, I was really excited about the paper. I was lucky enough to have Sally Awalt as my English/Language Arts teacher in high school, not once but twice. She taught freshman English the year I entered high school, then moved to senior English the year I was a senior. She really pushed us on composition and literary analysis and it's something I enjoyed and did really well at. In the college classes I've taken before, I've honed my writing skills and gotten excellent feedback from professors. If there's one thing I know how to do, it's write an essay!

So our first assignment in ENGL 3308 was to analyze protest poetry written by feminists in the 1960's. I enjoyed the assignment, even though I don't really identify with the ideas in many of the poems we read. I threw myself into writing the paper and had it ready well before the due date. I even had it proofread by a friend who is a writer by trade. She had a few suggestions, but said the paper was great. I was excited to turn the paper in, and really amped the day we got the papers back. I couldn't wait to see all the accolades and compliments he was sure to have written! I couldn't wait to see the affirmation of my mad writing skillz and see all the ways in which I'd impressed my professor.

The day he returned our papers, the professor said there were 9 A's in the class. He said, "They don't call me Dr. A for nothing!" In a class of 23, with 9 A's, I was feeling very confident. For the next hour, he stood at the front talking about good things people had done, things that needed improvement, etc. He read excerpts from some peoples' papers as examples. At the end of the class he returned our papers and I anxiously flipped through, noticed a few corrections he made and finally got to the final page where he had written:

"Develop your allusion more thoroughly. Very readable writing style." B+

WHAT!?!?!

I was really disappointed, to say the least. After getting over my initial reaction, I could see the things that kept me from making an A. It didn't matter that my paper was really well written because I didn't follow the formula he gave us. I thought I had to just make an allusion, not develop it. I thought the formula he had prescribed was a suggestion, but realized he meant for us to follow it exactly. I thought I could make statements based on general historical knowledge without prefacing it with "I think" or "It is my understanding" or "I believe." He dinged me for not citing sources for statements like "In the late 18th century blacks in America were regarded as being unintelligent and better suited to physical labor." So instead, I should have written "As I understand American history...." Whatev.

It's a very boring way of writing, not at all what I'd expect to do in an upper level university course, but as Pressly says, "money makes the monkey dance" so the paper I turned in yesterday was tedious to write, I found it boring in nature and there were several phrases that suffered from chronic overuse, but I'll be damned if he's going to penalize me for writing well this time! I even had him edit my rough draft on our prescribed "writing day" where we are excused from class to write or can come to class to get his input.

A Little Humor

One of the guys I used to work with sent me this in an email (thanks, Scott!) and I thought it was pretty funny, so I figured I'd share it. I suppose we have been able to remain optimistic since we know the markets are cyclical and we are young enough to just ride it out.

New Market Terms

BULL MARKET - A random market movement causing an investor to mistake himself for a financial genius.

BEAR MARKET - A 6 to 18 month period when the kids get no allowance, the wife gets no jewelry, and the husband gets no sex.

P/E RATIO - The percentage of investors wetting their pants as the market keeps crashing.

BROKER - What my broker has made me.

STANDARD & POOR - Your life in a nutshell.

CEO - chief embezzlement officer.

CFO - corporate fraud officer.

STOCK ANALYST - Idiot who just downgraded your stock.

STOCK SPLIT -- When your ex-wife and her lawyer split your assets equally between themselves.

MARKET CORRECTION - The day after you buy stocks.

CASH FLOW - The movement your money makes as it disappears down the toilet.

INSTITUTIONAL INVESTOR - Past year investor who's now locked up in a nuthouse.

MOMENTUM INVESTING - The fine art of buying high and selling low.

VALUE INVESTING - The art of buying low and selling lower.

'BUY, BUY' - A flight attendant making market recommendations as you step off the plane.

FINANCIAL PLANNER - A guy who actually remembers his wallet when he runs to the 7-11 for toilet paper and cigarettes.

CALL OPTION - Something people used to do with a telephone in ancient times before e-mail.

PROFIT - Religious guy who talks to God.

Random.

Old Dog, New Trick

Our dog Chelsae, who is 14 years old, has learned that if she scratches at the door I'll get up. She's been house trained as long as we've had her (about 12 years) and all that time, scratching the door = "I need to go out." It's taken ME a few weeks to realize that she has a new trick. Apparently she's not the only one around here who is getting older! I thought maybe she was just getting fickle in her old age. It all became clear the other day when she scratched, I got up and went to the door and instead of just backing away like she had done several times before, she walked into the kitchen started doing the Feed Me dance. Her bowl was empty. She gets a little panicky when her bowl is empty and more than just a little panicky when she sees us reaching all the way to the bottom of the dog food bag to fill her bowl.

Note: Feed Me dance = Chelsae sits up on her haunches waving both front paws at the human for whom she is dancing, then she jumps in a full circle, bounces a little, stands up on her haunches and starts all over again. If you don't respond fairly quickly, she adds sound effects, indicating that the situation is dire. It is important to note that she doesn't usually want to eat when she does the dance, nor is she hungry; she just needs the security of having kibble in her bowl.





Flying High

Pressly has been learning to fly his new model airplane and Aaron is taking quite an interest in it. He has his own RC helicopter that he's been flying while Pressly flies his plane.

I was focusing on his face and snapped this shot about a millisecond before the helicopter crashed into my camera. I didn't even see it coming, so the perspective here is accidental but pretty cool. We both got a good giggle out of the crash.


Notice: Shirt and shoes are optional, apparently.































I love this one!


This one was way off in the distance and the lighting was really bad Aaron's expression is priceless.