Thursday, April 23, 2009

Red letter day in the Fox household - Josh is finally starting to crawl (well, OK - scoot, and backwards and that) and Cade and Drew invented a new game called "Flurb".

How does one play "Flurb", you might ask? Well, it involves highjacking the new plunger that your mother bought to unstop the kitchen sink and suction cupping it all over the floor and screaming "Flurb!" every time the seal pops and you lift it off the floor. Once you have mastered these basic flurbing skills, you can move onto more advanced ones such as Flurb Racing (stick and unstick the plunger all the way across the room to a designated finish point so you can "win the race") or Flurb Reaching (suction the plunger to the refrigerator and pantry doors, jerking them open from afar by yanking on the plunger handle).

Never let it be said that my children aren't weird, er...I mean, creative.

Monday, April 20, 2009

Long Time, No Post

It's hard to believe it's been three months since I last posted. Life has been so crazy that I'm barely holding up my end of Baby Bunching and Deep South Moms and this blog has been sorely neglected. But here's a classic story from today that illustrates one of the many reasons for my absence:

Cade and Drew have managed to befriend a 9 year old boy in the neighborhood named Thomas. Thomas (who may or may not have parents?) spends most afternoons riding his bike unsupervised down the middle of the streets in our neighborhood. He is Cade and Drew's hero because his bike doesn't have training wheels. Sometimes he plays with the boys at the park and for the past couple of days he has dropped by to invite Cade to "go riding" and Cade is desperate to do so.

Today he stopped by again and wanted them to go riding and I told him we were leaving for soccer practice in a bit so they couldn't come out, but if he wanted to, he could come back tomorrow and they could ride bikes in the back, provided they didn't leave our driveway.

Cade and Drew were so happy that they literally started doing a dance of joy, hugging each other and singing a song and acting like psychotic screaming freaks on our front porch. Josh, as usual, was screaming his fool head off in his high chair while all this was transpiring.

Thomas looks at them and then looks at me and says, "It must be hard to be you. I'd better come over tomorrow and help you."

Nothing like being a nine year old's charity case.