Chewing fingers... num-num-num
And now I'm bored.Friday, July 17, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Happy Birthday, Jeff and James!
Photo taken 07.15.08 -- James, Jeff (a.k.a., "the birthday boys")Dear Jeff--
Happy Birthday to my wonderful husband! :)
We have often joked about how last year's birthday played out. And the need for THIS year to make up for things. (Backstory: We had one day to pack up and move the entire contents of my house, and bring them to Jeff's. One day. On which it was about 150 degrees. And we discovered that morning I was pregnant. This was an unexpected discovery.)
I think back to the hectic pace of that hot day in July and wonder how we ever made it through. The photo of you and James that night at dinner speaks volumes. James seems relaxed and happy. You? I can see the effort you're making to appear festive.
Well, 365 days have passed, and this morning I saw happiness on your face. True happiness, joy and love as I wished you a happy birthday with a kiss, and as you sat on the bed watching Bobby sit up by himself for the first time. I am blessed not only by having you in my life as my best friend and love, but also watching you be a great father to the "yours/mine/ours" group we call our children. You are a wonderful example to the kids through action and words. The active role you play in their lives as a father, teacher and role model is one of the most endearing qualities I see in you. Days may come and go without them saying it, but I know each of them love you and respect you more than mere words can express.
As a husband, I couldn't ask for a more outstanding partner in life. Someone with whom I share so many similarities, yet someone who continually shares new things. We live, laugh and love together, and have formed a family that I couldn't be more proud of. Our first meeting -- "falling in love at a coffee shop," -- to our most romantic wedding on Captiva Island and the birth of our son... these memories and all the million others in between are framed with the image of you smiling at me with such true, honest love. I thank God each and every day for bringing our paths together; grateful for every minute we spend together. I look forward with genuine love and anticipation at spending the rest of our lives together. Neither of us know for sure what the future holds -- there will be ups and downs, good times and stressful times... but I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, you and I will face everything together, with more love in our hearts than was there the day before. And there is nothing -- no person or event -- that will break the incredible bond you and I share. Ever. It just grows stronger and stronger each day.
You are the love of my life, Jeffrey, and I hope you have a very happy birthday.
Love, Rebecca
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Trading Up: DC for MLB
Inspired this morning by Lindy's blog, I have my own transition to deal with. This one at the hands of two "9-but-soon-to-be-10-year-olds," Jack and Charlie.
You may have read the earlier post about their extreme love of "the game" (a.k.a., baseball). This isn't a simple, passing crush. They started playing at age 2, and I have buckled up for the bumpy ride to the major leagues. (Because, naturally, that's what they aspire to be when they grow up.)
However, it wasn't long ago when I could look into the den and smile when I saw the boys lounging, limbs draped all over the sofa, watching their "counterparts" Zach and Cody on the Disney Channel. I think they related to this show more than the average kid, simply because of the identical twin thing. I never realized how much they related to them until once when discussing haircuts, Charlie said he wanted his hair to look like Zach and Cody's.
Now? The Disney-fest has been cast aside in favor of MLB -- and lots of it.
For those of you who aren't aware, we're in the middle of the All-Star break. Yeah, I didn't know either. But yesterday evening, I walked next door to ask one of the boys something, and was stunned at the sight before me. There, in their garage (a.k.a., "man cave") was Jack, Charlie, Tebo (the neighbor) and Sam. The boys were seated on a bench seat from their van, watching the wall-mounted television. On the screen, major league players were taking turns at cranking out home runs. The floor was covered with popcorn. Jack, wearing a batting helmet, greeted me with a rundown of which players had been up, and how they fared. Now, instead of hearing the names Zach and Cody, I hear Albert Pujols and Prince Fielder. (Prince Fielder of the Milwaukee Brewers won the Homerun Derby, by the way. Go forth and impress with this nugget of knowledge.)
Could these possibly be my children? My boys, who used to sit and watch not only Zach and Cody's crazy pre-teen antics, but "Cory in the House" and (my personal favorite) "Phil of the Future"? Yes, they've officially started growing up. Where have I been?
Later in the evening, the boys hit the "Back 40" for one last game. (The "Back 40" is a huge common area between our homes and the clubhouse/pool area -- perfect for boys to get a pick-up game of baseball going.) Jeff and I were outside, finishing some yard work. As the the last bit of daylight faded, there was a particularly heated play. And I distinctly heard the phrase, "What the hell, Charlie?!" leap from Jack's lips. Soon after, as he sat with me on the patio and we discussed the error of his ways, his gaze would wander over to the rest of the boys, still pitching and batting. I had the chance to take a good, long look at his face for a minute. I searched for even the smallest glimpse of his "baby face" -- you know,... when you look at a little kid and you can kind of still see what he/she looked like as a toddler or pre-schooler. There was none. Nothing. My son's features have changed to that of a boy about to turn 10, just three short years from being an official teenager. Three. Short. Years.
I guess it's no wonder they've traded in their Disney Channel-watching days for ESPN Sportscenter and any MLB game they can find on the menu. So, while Lindy bids farewell to NickJr. and enters the magic land of Hannah Montana and the Disney Channel, I am passing the torch to her. At least with Hannah Montana, there's music and fashion. My future? There's a whole lotta dirt, sweat and jock straps.
You may have read the earlier post about their extreme love of "the game" (a.k.a., baseball). This isn't a simple, passing crush. They started playing at age 2, and I have buckled up for the bumpy ride to the major leagues. (Because, naturally, that's what they aspire to be when they grow up.)
However, it wasn't long ago when I could look into the den and smile when I saw the boys lounging, limbs draped all over the sofa, watching their "counterparts" Zach and Cody on the Disney Channel. I think they related to this show more than the average kid, simply because of the identical twin thing. I never realized how much they related to them until once when discussing haircuts, Charlie said he wanted his hair to look like Zach and Cody's.
Now? The Disney-fest has been cast aside in favor of MLB -- and lots of it.
For those of you who aren't aware, we're in the middle of the All-Star break. Yeah, I didn't know either. But yesterday evening, I walked next door to ask one of the boys something, and was stunned at the sight before me. There, in their garage (a.k.a., "man cave") was Jack, Charlie, Tebo (the neighbor) and Sam. The boys were seated on a bench seat from their van, watching the wall-mounted television. On the screen, major league players were taking turns at cranking out home runs. The floor was covered with popcorn. Jack, wearing a batting helmet, greeted me with a rundown of which players had been up, and how they fared. Now, instead of hearing the names Zach and Cody, I hear Albert Pujols and Prince Fielder. (Prince Fielder of the Milwaukee Brewers won the Homerun Derby, by the way. Go forth and impress with this nugget of knowledge.)
Could these possibly be my children? My boys, who used to sit and watch not only Zach and Cody's crazy pre-teen antics, but "Cory in the House" and (my personal favorite) "Phil of the Future"? Yes, they've officially started growing up. Where have I been?
Later in the evening, the boys hit the "Back 40" for one last game. (The "Back 40" is a huge common area between our homes and the clubhouse/pool area -- perfect for boys to get a pick-up game of baseball going.) Jeff and I were outside, finishing some yard work. As the the last bit of daylight faded, there was a particularly heated play. And I distinctly heard the phrase, "What the hell, Charlie?!" leap from Jack's lips. Soon after, as he sat with me on the patio and we discussed the error of his ways, his gaze would wander over to the rest of the boys, still pitching and batting. I had the chance to take a good, long look at his face for a minute. I searched for even the smallest glimpse of his "baby face" -- you know,... when you look at a little kid and you can kind of still see what he/she looked like as a toddler or pre-schooler. There was none. Nothing. My son's features have changed to that of a boy about to turn 10, just three short years from being an official teenager. Three. Short. Years.
I guess it's no wonder they've traded in their Disney Channel-watching days for ESPN Sportscenter and any MLB game they can find on the menu. So, while Lindy bids farewell to NickJr. and enters the magic land of Hannah Montana and the Disney Channel, I am passing the torch to her. At least with Hannah Montana, there's music and fashion. My future? There's a whole lotta dirt, sweat and jock straps.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Grumpy-butt, Grumpy-butt... why are you so grumpy?
I wish I had a video of this to share. But I don’t. Although if I did, I swear we’d be strolling away with the $100,000 grand prize on America’s Funniest Home Videos.
Wednesday: Jeff had a particularly rough day with Bobby. The child just screamed all day – no major illness or injury, just a little CBS – “Crabby Baby Syndrome.” By the time I got home from work that afternoon, I found Jeff sitting on the bed with a (finally) sleeping baby in his arms. We whispered our conversation, so as not to wake Bobby. As we spoke, I saw Bobby’s eyes open. Wide. Staring up at Jeff. I motioned for Jeff to look down at him, and as God is my witness… the moment Jeff looked at Bobby, that little stinker snapped his eyes shut.
So, Jeff turns back to me and we start whispering again. Bobby’s eyes open again. Wide. Staring at Jeff. He looked down at Bobby, again, at which point Bobby quickly closed his eyes. Again.
This happened one or two more times, and by the last time Jeff and I were laughing so hard, Bobby just gave up and kept his eyes open. (Thank goodness he sensed our amusement, and joined us with smiles and giggles.)
If Bobby’s little trick is any indication of the years ahead, we’re in big trouble.
Wednesday: Jeff had a particularly rough day with Bobby. The child just screamed all day – no major illness or injury, just a little CBS – “Crabby Baby Syndrome.” By the time I got home from work that afternoon, I found Jeff sitting on the bed with a (finally) sleeping baby in his arms. We whispered our conversation, so as not to wake Bobby. As we spoke, I saw Bobby’s eyes open. Wide. Staring up at Jeff. I motioned for Jeff to look down at him, and as God is my witness… the moment Jeff looked at Bobby, that little stinker snapped his eyes shut.
So, Jeff turns back to me and we start whispering again. Bobby’s eyes open again. Wide. Staring at Jeff. He looked down at Bobby, again, at which point Bobby quickly closed his eyes. Again.
This happened one or two more times, and by the last time Jeff and I were laughing so hard, Bobby just gave up and kept his eyes open. (Thank goodness he sensed our amusement, and joined us with smiles and giggles.)
If Bobby’s little trick is any indication of the years ahead, we’re in big trouble.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
Yesterday, leaving the dentist's office...
Jack: Hey, Mom... You know that Farrah Fawcett lady?
Me: Yes
Jack: When she was in the '70s, she was HOT!
Me: ?!
That's what I get for leaving two soon-to-be-10-year-olds to read magazines in the waiting room. When I went in for MY appointment, they were all about the ESPN Magazine and Sports Illustrated. Sometime in the following 20-30 minutes, they found People and Us Weekly. Nice.
Jack: Hey, Mom... You know that Farrah Fawcett lady?
Me: Yes
Jack: When she was in the '70s, she was HOT!
Me: ?!
That's what I get for leaving two soon-to-be-10-year-olds to read magazines in the waiting room. When I went in for MY appointment, they were all about the ESPN Magazine and Sports Illustrated. Sometime in the following 20-30 minutes, they found People and Us Weekly. Nice.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Oooohhh... ahhhhhhh
Highlights from the inaugural Cameron Fireworks Spectacular,
brought to you by The Cameron Brothers.
Never before have I seen two adult males so giddy with anticipation as Jeff and his brother James last week. When we stopped by James and Jenny's house mid-week, the two of them retreated to the garage to gaze upon the vast pyrotechnic paraphernalia. I'm sure there was giggling involved.
When Jeff and Tyler went over Friday afternoon to help with some party prep, the anticipation was too much and they lit a couple of things. From what I was told, the explosion was so loud and unanticipated, they nearly peed themselves laughing.
Friday night arrived, and it might just as well have been Christmas morning for them. They spent the better part of two hours in the garage preparing the great display. They lit the first fuse at 10pm -- family and friends (and random neighbors) were dazzled beyond belief for nearly an hour.
But... you know all those big-money fireworks displays you see, with explosions creating multi-colored sparkles in the night sky? Know what you DON'T see? The freakin' shredded paper carnage that ends up in the fall-out zone. And Saturday, James and Jenny's house (and their neighbor's!) was the fallout zone. I hadn't realized how much clean up there would be... until hearing about it after the fact. So, a HUGE apology goes out to James and Jenny for our absence in the clean-up process. Next year, we're so there.
And before you get the wrong impression that we're a bunch of midwest rednecks with nothing better to do than set off explosives to celebrate a national holiday (see prior post), let me assure you we're NOT. Extreme safety was priority number one from the first sparkler to the grand finale. It's just that everyone has "their holiday," whether it's going all-out decorating for Christmas or Halloween, cooking at Thanksgiving or hiding more colored Easter eggs than should be allowed by law. The 4th of July just happens to be the Cameron boys' holiday of choice.
And no one can mix it up with educated political debates and explosives like they can.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Happy (almost) 4th of July
It's unofficially the 4th here today. Our family get-together is today, rather than tomorrow, for a variety of reasons. But that's OK, since it'll make the weekend seem even longer. And after last week? That's fine by me.
For the past couple of weeks, some people in my neighborhood have begun the annual tradition of setting off small explosive devices to celebrate the holiday. This is driving our dog crazy. Literally. Buddy came to us as a shelter dog, so we don't know his history. But there's definitely signs of post-traumatic stress disorder... for dogs. Thank goodness the vet gave us "doggie valium" for him to take the edge off.
Are small explosives really the focus of this holiday?
I did an interview yesterday with a local home builder for the Parade of Homes this fall. He is a first generation immigrant to the United States, arriving in the mid-1970s. He was 18. A few times during our conversation, he mentioned how America is equated with "freedom" and "choices. " Any one of us who has had even one American History class is familiar with that concept. But do we have it in the forefront of our minds every day? How many of us have had the experience of living in a society where one's views and opinions are oppressed? Where we have no choices... we have no "say."
Listening to how this man has even integrated the appreciation of democracy and choice into his career was eye-opening. His home designs are very unique; seeing four of his homes situated in one cul-de-sac with one home built by another builder made it obvious how different they are. He has followed his dream and passion, building homes that may be newly constructed, but evoke thoughts of nostalgia. Why build homes that are so vastly different in design from his contemporaries? "I want to bring democracy into home design," he said with a laugh.
Here is a person who truly appreciates democracy and choice possible in our country -- something that any one of us could -- and often times do -- forget.
So, Happy 4th of July! Take a minute between the hamburgers, potato salad and the fireworks to appreciate what we are fortunate enough to experience in the United States. The freedom to choose. The freedom to follow dreams. The freedom to have a "say so."
And the freedom to seet off many, many small explosives in the name of patriotism.
For the past couple of weeks, some people in my neighborhood have begun the annual tradition of setting off small explosive devices to celebrate the holiday. This is driving our dog crazy. Literally. Buddy came to us as a shelter dog, so we don't know his history. But there's definitely signs of post-traumatic stress disorder... for dogs. Thank goodness the vet gave us "doggie valium" for him to take the edge off.
Are small explosives really the focus of this holiday?
I did an interview yesterday with a local home builder for the Parade of Homes this fall. He is a first generation immigrant to the United States, arriving in the mid-1970s. He was 18. A few times during our conversation, he mentioned how America is equated with "freedom" and "choices. " Any one of us who has had even one American History class is familiar with that concept. But do we have it in the forefront of our minds every day? How many of us have had the experience of living in a society where one's views and opinions are oppressed? Where we have no choices... we have no "say."
Listening to how this man has even integrated the appreciation of democracy and choice into his career was eye-opening. His home designs are very unique; seeing four of his homes situated in one cul-de-sac with one home built by another builder made it obvious how different they are. He has followed his dream and passion, building homes that may be newly constructed, but evoke thoughts of nostalgia. Why build homes that are so vastly different in design from his contemporaries? "I want to bring democracy into home design," he said with a laugh.
Here is a person who truly appreciates democracy and choice possible in our country -- something that any one of us could -- and often times do -- forget.
So, Happy 4th of July! Take a minute between the hamburgers, potato salad and the fireworks to appreciate what we are fortunate enough to experience in the United States. The freedom to choose. The freedom to follow dreams. The freedom to have a "say so."
And the freedom to seet off many, many small explosives in the name of patriotism.
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