Monthly Archive for September, 2011

Welcome To Our One-Year-Later Life.

Last year today, we lived in this house.

This year today, we live in this house.

Yes, this house.

That has a living room.

That is large. Really large.

That has a section for toys.

That has a closet on the same floor you enter so that you can — gasp — put coats inside! Instead of, say, on the floor.

That has a SEPARATE dining area. I repeat. The table is for dining. The table does not hold anything resembling a computer.

That has a kitchen. With just a touch of counter space.

That has a garage in the back. Also a groovy green color.

That has a relatively new (mobile) resident under three feet tall.

Recap: We moved. We built a house (Jay spent months single-handedly putting in floors, cabinets, toilets, everything.) We had a baby (Dot spent too many nights single-handedly feeding, bathing, and putting two little girls to bed). We moved again. We are still married. We are still drinking heavily.

Confession: Does this house look suspiciously clean? Yes, Jay and Dot bust their asses cleaning the house for a Very Important Visitor and forbade Ruby from touching any of her toys for 12 hours.

Random Expression Of Feeling: Are we happy we took that leap of faith? Yes. Are we tired beyond belief? Yes. Are we hoping to (1) win the lottery, (2) meet a leprechaun at the end of a rainbow, or (3) trip over a 20-pound gold nugget? Yes, why not, and of course.

Key Takeaway: I do not recommend you try this at home.

This Is Movable Max.

Remember the last time we tried to coax a certain Miss Ruby to crawl and she just didn’t quite make it?

Well.

I guess this is what having a big sister does to you. You just wanna get places and do things.

Jay calls this method Big Toe Crawling.

This Is A Nice Purdy Picture Of Us.

And yes, I noticed Ruby’s little pose as well. She did that with no prompting.

See more on Jay’s Flickr stream.

Sportless In Seattle

I have a confession to make. Which, on a blog, is kinda like saying, “I’m reading aloud every word of this PowerPoint slide.” (And what’s up with that?)

But you’re here. You’re reading. So here goes.

Boy, am I glad Jay doesn’t watch sports.

Let me say that one more time. With feeling.

BOY AM I GLAD JAY DOES NOT WATCH SPORTS!

I note that many a people are into sports, and rightly they should be. How else can you legally watch all sorts of well-toned men and women in various stages of undress, doing athletic feats while you drink beer, eat chips, and yell profanities?

Instead, Jay is into making shit. Like this awesome lamp. And other amazing contraptions that include, but are not limited to, staircases, hot-welded custom baby gates, kitchen countertops…

I make a bad sports widow. Mostly because it took me years to sort of, kind of, understand the two main sports in this country: American Football and Baseball. I still don’t get it. No offense to fans: In both games, there seems to be a lot of waiting. At least I love and understand design.

So I’m secretly glad I don’t have to watch Jay watch sports or have time stand still come Superbowl.

Besides, there isn’t really a game I’m into, except Netball. Jay is amused that I used to be in competitive sports. What? With all my saggy bits? YEAH FOLKS! I was fit! I was semi-toned! I was a pretty good GA (Goal Attack) and captain of the team. Back in the day. When my legs looked good in a short skirt, yo.

Jay’s sports of choice these days is Home Construction. I occasionally lose him to how-to videos by Bob What’s His Face. But there was a time when Mr J was a competitive snowboarder himself.

I believe that’s what’s called “Air.”

That’s hot.

As I have yet to find photographic evidence of my sporting prowess — Hey, all my yearbooks are in Singapore! — you will just have to take my word for it.

And trust me on the legs.

Stuff Ruby Says

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