Sunday, November 23, 2008

Weekend(s) update.

It has been a long while...too long. And I am repentant to have left without saying goodbye. Please forgive me. Here's what's been going on during my absence.
We finalized both the purchase of our "new" home and the sale of our "old" home, moved out of the "old" home and started demo-ing and remodeling the "new" one; which consequently has forced us into temporary homelessness. Thankfully we were able to find some good samaritans to take our brood in...my sister and her family. Methinks she might be regretting that decision now, but she and her family are to too kind to kick a pregnant lady and her four children out into the cold, so here we are, still mooching off the fam.
The past two weeks have been spent trying to get things finished on the house so that we can leave my sister and her family to the peace and serenity they once knew...so long ago. But, honestly I am not sure when the house will be done. Hopefully it will be done "enough" that we can start moving in this week, but I know better than to get my hopes up.
On a lighter, happier note, Chad and I went to the Coldplay concert last night. Again, I bided my time by watching fellow concert goers act like imbaciles. This concert experience boasted a middle aged, ice-cream licking, dancing man, a couple of scantilly clad hoochie ladies shakin' their assets, and another freaky, dancing lady off in la-la land. And like last time, I became the freaky, dancing, old lady when my boy Chris took to the stage and started singing.
In a nutshell, the concert was amazing. Coldplay is probably my favorite band and it was surreal to think that I was in the same room with them. They were cordial and gracious throughout the entire concert which makes me love them even more. I have spent the blessed sabbath walking in a Coldplay daze. Unfortantely it's back to the grind tomorrow.
I have left you with a few of my favorite coldplay songs...that are still ringing in my ears...literally.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Lil' Bruiser.

The other night I decided to retire to bed early. Ever the involved parent that I am, I turned a movie on for the big kids and sent them downstairs, while I took the lil' guy upstairs with me. I turned on an episode of...you guessed it...Little Einstein's, so as to give the boy some intellectual edification whilst I rested the ol' eyes. For the record, I was resting my eyes, not sleeping.
Anywho, at some point I did end up dozing off and was awoken by the blood curdling screams of my little man. It is never fun waking up to that sound and my heart nearly burst out my chesticle.
Sometime during my, uh-hum, brief moment of unconsciousness, my little guy decided to venture down to the basement where his elder siblings were...supposedly sleeping. Something tells me there was no sleeping going on, but rather the usual shenanigans that seem to plague our family.
By the time I had my wits about me, Avery had already climbed the two flight of stairs with her screaming brother in tow. She explained that Beckham had been playing, while they were all "resting" and had somehow fallen off the bed and hit his eye on the trundle. Uh huh, sure. She handed over her injured brother and promptly left...the sign of the guilty. When I was finally able to focus my weary eyes I was immediately drawn to Beckham's left eyebrow. It seriously looked like the boy had a mutant alien growing under his skin...it was ridiculous.
By morning the swelling had gone down, but had left a nasty purple bruise in its wake.
It has been a couple days since the incident took place, but it looks worse now than before. The bruising has moved down the side of his face along his temple, and is underneath his eye as well. Poor kid. He doesn't even know how pathetic he looks. I have made it a point not to venture out in public so as to avoid the dreaded "what happened" question. Even if it was an innocent little accident there are always those mother's who like to flash the "that would never happen to my child" glare, and in my volatile hormonal state I felt it best to avoid the confrontation...not sure why, but pregnancy seems to bring out my impatient and intolerant side.
I will try to upload a picture soon, that is if I can find my camera and the necessary cord (we're in the middle of moving...just in case you were wonderin').

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Post Election Day Emotions.

I thought I had best remove my nobama ticker before the government tracked me down and tried me for treason.
No seriously, this post is for my kiddies, but read on if you like.
Today history has been made. Though I am a staunch republican and voted as such, I cannot help but feel a little proud of the history that has been made this day. Though I cannot profess to support everything president-elect Obama stands for, I do believe that all men are created equal...regardless of race, religion, etc. For that I believe this day is a victory for everyone.
Little ones, I know that you cannot fully understand the gravity of this situation, but it is something your children and grandchildren will read about in their history books.
The one thing I hope to impress upon you most is that this country is great. It was founded my great men who wanted it to be a home for people of all colors, races and creeds. It is truly the one place a person can become whatever they want, and can accomplish anything they set their mind to. I hope, my little kiddies, that you will always remember that.
Okay, now I'm off to bury all my gold and silver and secure the bunker...just in case.
P.S. Another proud moment for me today was seeing that proposition eight passed. The people have spoken...long live the family.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Weekend Update

This weekend has been a busy one. On Friday, Halloween, I attended the kiddies Halloween parade and then later that evening took them out trick-or-treating. I was pleased to see that for once mother nature cooperated and gave us some decent holiday weather. The kids were troopers and and came home with an ample supply of sugar...mama thanks you.
Saturday, our family partook in the dreaded annual Brendle family photo shoot. For some reason the word picture brings out the very worst in my family. Every year I get my hopes up thinking that this will be the year; the year everyone decides to be a team player and will smile, smile, smile til' their little cheek muscles quiver with exhaustion. And every year I'm disappointed. This year was no exception. However, the photographer had a finger like a trigger-happy gun slinger...the fastest finger in the west...and was able to capture some pretty great moments. Thanks Amy.
In addition to our photo shoot, I have started feeling lousy and we have started packing up for the big move down the street. We have to be out of our current home by the tenth, which leave us this week to get everything done. Fingers crossed that the deal on our Fruitwood house goes through.
And finally, today, Sunday, is Beckham's birthday. I am grateful he is only two, and will not care that his day was really lame...just a couple presents and a crappy Wal-mart cake.
I am hoping that the remainder of the weekend involves, me, a bed and some peace and quiet. But, I'm not holding my breath on that one. And now, some pics...don't be surprised when you see one of them donning our annual Christmas card in a few weeks.





This pretty much encapsulates how the whole family feels about picture time.


















Baby Beckham's 2


My little man is another year older. It is hard to believe that two years ago today, I gave birth to an almost nine pound child...my uterus and bladder haven't been the same since.
The poor child began his existence nameless. For the first week of his life his daddy and I bounced names back and forth waiting for one to stick, but to no avail. Finally inspiration struck, in the form of Emily Dean, who suggested the name Beckham, and finally our baby boy was named...after a freakin' super uber hottie soccer player with a British accent...swoon, swoon. Uh-hum, where were we? Oh, and finally our baby boy had a name. I cannot imagine him being called anything else. Fittingly, the child has had an infatuation with balls of all sorts since birth. And yes, the poor child will play soccer. It seems a little sac-religious to have him play anything but.
It is difficult to imagine life without this fair-haired, blue-eyed angel boy. Granted, he doesn't always act like an angel, like when he hits, bites or block-clocks the kiddies in the nursery, but he does have plenty of tender moments, like when he climbs up on my lap and tells me "I love you much", or when he tells me "by you me", which translates to "come sit by me", or when he jumps on my head and "lick/kisses" me.
In a nutshell, life with Beckham has been joyful. I realize how quickly he'll grow up. Until then I will enjoy him for what he is...a pleasant, yet occasionally moody two year old boy, who loves cars, dinosaurs, and action figures. I look forward to at least a few more years of "I love you much's" and "by you me's" and "lick/kisses" and I'll be sure to savor each one, for I know that soon enough they will not be given as freely as they once were.
But, no matter how old and cool you get, little Beck's, I will always love you...I will always love you much.