Thursday Afternoon Mash-up (a.k.a Things You Weren't Dying to Know, But Hey, It's My Blog and I Can Do What I Want)

A few things: 

Number One:  John called me on Tuesday afternoon to inform me that he had just broken his foot during his daily lunchtime basketball game.  After checking the date to be sure it wasn't April Fools Day all over again, I informed him that I didn't think basketball was supposed to be quite so contact-oriented.  I'm pretty sure these boys have adapted it from normal person basketball, into some form of tackle, let's beat each other up, kind of basketball.

And by the way, this broken foot is only the latest from the boy with the craziest injuries on the planet.  Case in point:  Memorial Day weekend 2006, he's taking out the trash, and a piece of broken glass SLICES THROUGH HIS CALF MUSCLE.  We end up in the emergency room, he ends up with staples in his leg, and I end up with a very unhappy husband who can't participate in any lake-time fun.

(I also end up with a super gross image of his calf ingrained into my mind for years to come). 

Or how about December 2006, when he's hanging out with some guys on a work trip, and they decide late night pooltime is in order.  During which John decides to dive into the pool....WITHOUT MAKING SURE IT'S DEEP ENOUGH.  (Guess what?  It wasn't.)  Deep cut on the forehead, possible concussion, and a phone call to his sweet wife at 2am to tell her he's in the emergency room.  After which, sweet wife turns into one very ticked off, you have no idea what you're coming home to, kind of wife. 

Clearly, 2006 was The Year of the Emergency Room at our house.

Number Two:  Is there anything better than a sleepy baby, all snuggled up into your shoulder?  I think not. And this from the girl who was once afraid to even HOLD a baby.  Thank the good Lord for the mothering instinct.  Or else some of us would really be in trouble.

And by "some of us,"  I mean "me."

Number Three:  I'm finally getting around to posting a few more of AG's six-month photos with Kerie.  Now that she's 8 months old.

Because that's just how we roll around here.

Here, give me the camera.  I promise I can handle it.

Classic AG.  Let's see if I can get my toes in my mouth.

(Guess what?  She can.)

Yet another classic.  Fingers=constantly in the mouth.

Nothing has changed in the past 2 months, except practically everything.  Ally Grace has a lot more hair now, looks more like John every day, can sit up on her own, eats lots of baby food, and still taunts me by saying "dadadadadada" constantly. 

What hasn't changed is that she's full-on presh each and every day.  It's only getting more and more fun!