Branson Vacation

And we're home and on to the next phase... the one where you need a vacation from the vacation you've just taken. We're thoroughly pooped! Silver Dollar City, mini golf/go karts, Celebration City, and White Water (in that order) provided lots of fun for the family. Here are some pictures/videos to enjoy.

Jack gets brave with some face first water sliding.

Yeah, that's my Jack - the only one screaming.

This is one of my favorite videos of the day. A handful of overly stimulated kids riding at the end of a long day. Look at the faces, and laugh with me.

2008 Concreteman Triathlon

Congratulations to Jim as he competed in this weekend's Concreteman Triathlon at Fellows Lake. Although the race results are unofficial just yet, he believes he finished 8th overall. In his age group, he earned a second place finish.

On the schedule for upcoming events: Republic Tiger Triathlon in August, MS bike ride (200 miles), marathon in the fall and another in the spring, half Ironman in June, and a full Ironman event for next August. We don't know how he does it.

But before we look too far into the future... we're off for a much needed vacation. See you later.

Can't Think of a Title

So, I need to know something. Do you ever occasionally feel that feeling? Maybe I should be more specific. The feeling goes something like this... although nothing terribly major is wrong in your immediate life at the moment and you are having a nice time wherever you are, you feel uncomfortable and edgy in your skin. It's a feeling as if you just know that somewhere, someplace, something is not right. There are someone else's problems there hovering in the air, and if only for a little bit, you assume the responsibility for feeling them. I wouldn't think that this feeling is unique to me, but who knows. I will say that I felt it tonight. There was a funk peculiar to one local Steak 'n Shake restaurant.

Now I love Steak 'n Shake. I really do. But immediately upon entering the place tonight, I felt the tension. First of all, it's a noisy and cramped place. If you can snag a booth around the perimeter of the room, I've learned that it's not so bad. (Perhaps this explains why I never really outgrew my wallflower tendencies at junior high dances either. But anyway...) The booths along the windows are good for my seating strategy, but the tables out in the wide open middle? Not so much. Jim and I got stuck in the middle tonight, and we were getting battered by the edginess from all sides:

*Heavy-set man to the left. He wore a Bluetooth thingamajig in his ear during the entirety of his meal and then chose to speak way too loudly with it immediately following his last bite. Here's how he is, by the way... "Ohhhh, fine.... just... uhhhhh..... sittin' here with Wanda."

*Unhappy teenage grandkids to the left and slightly behind who clearly didn't want to be there with their grandparents. They sat in the usual teenage, slumpy way with their cheeks leaning on their hands. Elbows on the table. Mouths hanging open. Eyes vacant. I felt for their grandparents whose feelings, I hoped, weren't hurt.

*Unhappy slew of waiters and waitresses up at the counter who were audibly frustrated by the customers who would eat and run out without paying. Do people really do this? There was disgusted talk of the "dine and dashers." And a few looked happy just to sit down for a minute at an open table, roll silverware in napkins, and rest their feet. Service work is hard work.

*Thirty-somethings on the right with a toddler who'd missed his nap today. (This was an easy conclusion as they addressed him several times as "Mr. No-Nap.") The child cried easily several times. He couldn't draw his picture quite right. He didn't get to order the right food. He poked his eyeball with his pencil, etc. It had been a long day for him, and I was glad when he ended up on his Daddy's knee to receive some due comfort.

*A woman sitting diagonally from me, next to the window, who very possibly had a metal rod in her neck or a bad crick that prevented the turning of her head to look at people easily.

*Irritated woman sitting diagonally from me, opposite side, who was served her beautiful looking hot fudge sundae... but no spoon. The waitress wasn't noticing her glare quickly enough, and she was becoming more and more impatient by the minute.

And just when I was about to get further lost in the agitated crowd of all of these people clattering their dishes and practicing their frowning, Jim leaned over.
"Do you ever feel like you're sitting in a place where someone is about to jump up on a table and yell, 'Okay, people, be cool. This is a robbery!'"

Thank you, Jim, for making me laugh and helping me shake the Steak 'n Shake vibe. Let's hold hands as we get out of here.

An Earnest Message

Sure, I'll record this for you, Jack. But I think you're barking up the wrong tree. I'm just not sure eight month old babies are developmentally ready to feel pity and/or sentimentality for your knickknacks. I'm also doubting she'll pick up on the subtle nuances of your very serious facial expressions. But okay... we'll try it.

32 Things You May Not Know About Jim

*is an excellent cook.
*insists on being the driver in any group that travels by vehicle.
*is a perfectionist regarding yard maintenance.
*prefers to sit on the left of me in a movie theater because that's the way we sleep, and any other way just "feels wrong."
*burns roughly 21,334 calories per day.
*carries spiders outside to avoid the wrath of Whitney.
*possesses uncanny navigational skills in unfamiliar cities.
*hates the sight of bare feet.
*hates it when people wear sandals or open toed shoes... (see above).
*committed a monologue from "Pulp Fiction" to memory ten years ago and knows it still.
*is very, very neat but organizes in piles.
*has the smallest handwriting known to man.
*(on a related note) writes in all capital letters.
*must read to fall asleep.
*does not sing.
*prefers the summer Olympics to the winter Olympics, although he thoroughly enjoys both.
*has 4-5 Twizzlers for dessert each night.
*needs sunflower seeds on all road trips.
*empties and loads the dishwasher every single day (right before he sifts the cat litter).
*cannot stand for his hair to touch his ears.
*is totally rejuvenated by a 5 minute nap.
*calls every one of his male co-workers, "Sir."
*can't spell worth a hoot.
*doesn't mind to put out all the signs for a garage sale but wants nothing to do with the actual event.
*stamps messages in the snow very legibly.
*feels pretty strongly about his clothes being wrinkle-free.
*brushes his teeth BEFORE taking a shower in the morning, which I think is just plain weird.
*prefers fruity ice cream toppings to candy ones.
*is always early and is never late.
*packs his suitcase very methodically and repacks mine.
*likes to accumulate shotglasses but knows to display his collection at work rather than home (thank you).
*balances equal parts wonderful husband and amazing father.


Happy Birthday to Jim. We are loving and missing him on his birthday.

Mugs and Mugshots

Our family is preparing to go on vacation. We are going far, far away this year to the bustlin' metropolis of Branson, MO. (No, no... please put away your banjo.) Now, as I consider my travel plans, I must tell you that this year I am taking some extra precautionary measures. I am in need of a Sharpie though. Anyone got a Sharpie?!

Still recently enough that I haven't yet let go of my grudge, Jim and I visited Branson's Silver Dollar City. If you are unfamiliar with the place, it's like an amusement park with an oldtimey, hillbilly feel. Think blacksmiths, woodcarvers, bonnets, tintype photographs, steam engines, and cloggers. Mix that in with water slides, roller coasters, and thrill rides aplenty, and well... there you have it. It's a fun place, and if you've lived in the area long, you've probably been too many times to count.

So on with the story. I began to say that Jim and I visited SDC last year. Silver Dollar City, like any tourist-oriented venue, is out to make a profit. The locals sometimes refer to the place as "Steal Your Dollar City," but that part is okay with me. I've, after all, purchased the tickets and, in that gesture, am accepting of the costs. I do appreciate the opportunity to save money at the park when the occasion arises, however. And here, at this point of the story, enters in the coveted "Silver Dollar City mug". Let's take a moment for some explanation.

For as long as I can remember, Silver Dollar City has offered these themed mugs at each and every cart, restaurant, corner, nook, or cranny within its boundaries. When I was little, they used to be glass mugs in the shape of a boot. These days, they are simply plastic mugs with close-up pictures of people screaming wildly as they accelerate down the incline of a featured park roller coaster. But nevertheless, despite their changing appearance over the years, the mugs have been a traditional product offered up for your consumer satisfaction.


When you buy one of these mugs, you rake in the perks of discounted beverages galore. And if you remember to bring the mug back each year (even still with those nostalgic glass boot ones, I'm pretty sure) you continue to save the bucks when whetting your tastebuds again and again. There is no limit to the beverage fun!


Jim and I purchased one of these mugs last year. We enjoyed using it to sip our colas and frozen lemonades. We were happy and our drinking needs were quenched... but then I sat on a bench.


Things turned ugly without warning as I was waiting for Jim and Jack to appear at the exit point of a roller coaster. I was pregnant with Emma at the time and could not ride. So instead I picked out a shady spot and sat. Remember, I was not parched at all. I had my mug on the bench beside me, see. People-watching helped to pass the time while I waited for the boys. And I was not thirsty. Whitney and her mug... sitting on a bench. The mug was to the left. The mug with the pictures of the happy, screaming people was sitting to the left.


But what's this?!!! (See how I'm shifting tenses? That's to let your subconscious know of the dramatic shift in excitement level that's happening right now. Are you leaning forward toward the screen?) A lady is suddenly sitting way too close to me on my left. That's weird. She's two inches away from me, and there's no one on the other side of her. Seriously, she's too close to me. I feel awkward. But she's scooting away now. That's better. We exchange polite glances, and I go back to people watching. What do you know? It occurs to me that I'm feeling a little thirsty. Good thing I have my Silver Dollar City muuuu....


Where's my mug?! Odd. It was right there next to my leg just a second ago. I look down at the bench. I look on the ground underneath the bench. I look behind the bench. I look at the lady, and she looks at me. I look to my right. I look back to the left. I look at the ground again. I look at the lady again. And then it begins... the web of lies.


"What are you looking for?" she says to me.


"My mug," I say.


"Oh? When did you last see it?" she says.


"Um, right before you sat down," I say.


"Oh? Well, that's so weird. That's just odd. I have a mug, but see, (pulling out an exact replica of my missing mug from her stroller) I always put my initials on the bottom of my mug, so that when this happens, I know which mug is mine."


I say nothing, but instead, I continue with my searching looks toward her and all of the other little places in her stroller that she could've stashed my mug. She reads my mind and offers to show me all of the hidden compartments of her stroller and the fact that they are empty of stolen mugs.


"That's just too bad. Those mugs are very valuable," she says. "They save you a lot of money in the long run. I always label my mug with my initials so that mine doesn't ever get mixed up." (She again shows me the black initial on the bottom of her stupid, stinkin' cup.) Her case is rock solid.

At this point, I don't know what to do. She's a smart one, folks. And I concede the fact that she has won this go 'round.


And then returns Jim. I tell him the story, get mad all over again, and he joins me in my fury at the obvious thievery of the Silver Dollar City mug.


I wish this story had a happen ending. But it doesn't. We even went so far as to launch a sting operation and spy on the lying woman for some time after the episode. We planned to catch her redhanded, in the act of running the same scam on another poor, defenseless victim. We imagined ourselves ripping off her mask (Scooby Doo style) and shouting for the hillbilly authorities. But it never happened. The woman has our mug to this day. We just know it.

A sketch of the perpetrator.

That's why I'm currently rummaging in a drawer for a Sharpie. If nothing else, I did learn the importance of labeling my mug with my initials "so that when this happens, I'll know which mug is mine." Here we come on vacation, Silver Dollar City! We're bringing our stinkin' mug.

Bumblebees and Babies

Have you ever really thought much about bumblebees? They are excellently named as they do nothing more than bumble along when they "fly."


A huge and clumsy body makes them slam into ceilings, houses, or people's t-shirts more than regularly (a problem shared by Junebugs). And radical gains and losses of altitude appear to be completely unintentional. When you consider the wasp, they look intelligent when they fly. You can see their mean little eyes, and they generally fly in a premeditated and predictable pattern. Bumblebees, on the other hand, are the shaggy dogs of insects. You never see their eyes, and their tongues (if they had them) would surely hang out as they collide into your head.

Somewhere, someplace maybe there is an offended mother bumblebee listening to me go on about her kid. She's indignant and defensive. And perhaps she would say, "Well, look at your own larva, lady!"

And I would say, "Okay, okay. Take it easy, mother bee."

Out of Sorts

Emma is getting a tooth. Her world is a bit out of sorts. She sits in the middle of the floor and announces her discontent for us all to hear. And not a whole lot soothes this feeling.

Emma, do you want to have your bottle? (No.)
Emma, do you want to have your diaper changed? (No.)
Emma, do you want to take a bath? (Okay, but that's not going to work longterm, and you know it.)
Emma, do you want to take a nap? (No!)
Emma, do you want to play with toys? (Are you kidding me with this?!)

Ahhh, but there is one trick that makes her a just a little bit happy ---unconventional uses for an old pacifier. It must feel sort of good to chew the tar out of it with her sore gums. I have a feeling that this solution's time is limited too, though... We'd better snap a picture quickly and exploit it for its humor while we can.

To Whitney

Today was a perfect day, wasn't it? You rarely get to spend time with Jack these days. And that's kind of sad. Make time, Whitney. Slough off the silly stuff that you can't change or that may occasionally bring you worry, stress, anger, or sadness. Forget the laundry, and walk away from the dishes. Hold your child's hand for a little bit, and ask him what he wants to do. You rarely do that.

Jack designed the schedule for today, and it felt good. Someday you'll come back to this entry, and sink into it. Remember what he wanted to do together:

1. Roll ALL the windows down, and open up the sunroof while we're driving.

Stick our hands out of the windows.

2. Turn up the music. And listen to anything that is Justin Timberlake's again and again.

3. Go to the carwash. Watch through the windows while our car is on the 'moving road.'

4. Eat at the "Hat Restaurant" (Arby's-- think of the sign) and sit at one of the special tall tables.

5. Go to the library almost entirely for playing at the train table.

6. Tell each other how much we love each other --- many, many times.

Emma's New Friend

"Well, hi! What's your name?"

"I'm taking my bath. Neat, so are you!"

"Do you have teeth? That's okay. Me neither."

"Your Mom seems cool."

"Goodnight."

"Can I play with her again tomorrow, Mom?"

For Sale: Good Deals and Great Times

It's that time again... the annual summer garage sale at the Hoodenpyle house. Don't look so glum. It's not over yet, so you could still come tomorrow.

In the meantime, here's what you've missed:

I couldn't seem to GIVE this ugly table away. Only 25 dollars! Come on, people.

Terri makes her blog debut as she finds a glamorous pair of sparkly flats... and a trunkload of other treasures that cost "a quarter." (Most of our profits came from her.)

Jack shops after hours and purchases not one, but TWO, clown noses.

One of the noses mentioned above finds an inappropriate home immediately.

And just about everyone realizes the opportunity to chide Danavee for her prices.

T-Ball Pictures

Just an Observation

I happened to be walking into Price Cutter the other day, and the window displayed a movie poster featuring one of their rentals. Pictured was the one and only Ice T. (But then later Jim corrected me and told me that I was thinking of one and only Ice Cube.... laughing.)

The poster caught my eye as I approached the doors. For some reason, I started rummaging through all of the headshots of Ice Cube that I have mentally stored, and I gotta say, I was struck by an observation. Anyway, there's a joke in here somewhere. Do you make the same observation? I bet you can find it.

Happy Fourth of July!

So, in connection with my last entry... we have been in St. Louis recently. We traveled with our friends, Danavee and Kenny, and took in a fabulous concert. As an added bonus, Kenny showed off his marching skills in a fourth of July parade with the Army band, and we cheered like fools from the curb.

Here are some nice time passing activities (if you're ever waiting for Kenny to march by someday) while parade watching in St. Louis:

1. Pose in front of the arch. Actually, pose as if you are hanging from the arch. Go ahead... the St. Louis residents LOVE it, and no other tourist has ever considered doing this before.

2. Sit on the steps of the old historic courthouse and discuss, thoroughly, the details of the infamous Dred Scott decision.

3. Try one of those dance video games that you've always made fun of other people for doing. Develop an addiction to those dance video games. (Actually, this one works better if you do it the night before the parade watching.)

4. Brainstorm a list of random things you could shout out to make Kenny laugh at the moment he passes by. Good luck... he's good... but perhaps it gives him an advantage in this game if he doesn't hear your efforts while he's saxophoning.

5. Make your patriotic movie debut.

Refer to Danavee's blog link (right) if you just can't get enough of this crazy fun.

JM Concert - St. Louis

There's no need to preface this with a lot of explanation. If you're reading this, the odds are more than favorable that you are aware of exactly how cuckoo for John Mayer I am. We've just been to a concert where we enjoyed second row center seats! It was a beautiful thing. He was GREAT, and I had a FANTASTIC time.

So excited, with Danavee, that I totally forgot that bending of the arms is possible.

Look here, we worked hard for this one so pay attention. I am trying to kiss John, but apparently I get only a mouthful of microphone. Ughhhh.

And She Crawls

Emma receives the outstanding achievement award for "New, but Fast Crawler." She's at the podium giving her acceptance speech. She refers to an index card to thank all the special things in her life that have inspired this development:

...wires, the entertainment center that contains expensive electronics, plastic Wal-Mart sacks, the camera, sharp or pointy objects, small toys of Jack's that could be considered choking hazards, (and the music plays her offstage before she can finish her long list)

Oh my goodness. I can see that we really didn't fully understand what babyproofing was with our first, mild-mannered and laid back child. Oh! I've lost track of where Emma went. I gotta go.