Emma Hoodenpyle

Emma has learned a monumental new trick, HER LAST NAME! This is big! (Yes, yes. Her trick is big too, of course.)

Seven Years Old!

Today is Jack's birthday. He is seven years old, and I can hardly believe it! Where did the time go? Everyday I am startled by how fast he is growing up. Where did my first little baby go? I tried to reminisce with him about it this morning. It went something like this:

Me: "Jack? Remember when you were my baby? And you would let me rock you? And cuddle with you? And hold you in my arms? And love on you?"

Jack: "Yes, Mom. But that was when I was just six."

Happy birthday, my BIG boy!!!

Christmas 2009

Stall Tactics

When you're two, stuck upstairs in a crib, and you don't want to commit to sleeping at bedtime, try shouting bizarre things from your room. After all, everyone else is awake and having fun downstairs. That's not fair. Here are a few options to add to your list of SHOUTABLE stall tactics, as tested and recommended by Emma. Try:

*Pretending that your foot is "STUUUUCK!" in the bars of the crib. Call for help. (This may come out sounding like "HUUUUCK!" if you're not too good at your "s" onset yet. That's ok. Your mom will still come.)

*Feigning dehydration with pleas for "WA-WA!"

*Filing a missing person report regarding any one of your usual bedmates who may have been accidentally left downstairs. (The critical sleeping roster includes: WOODY! MONKEY! ELMO! MICKEY and MINNIE MOUSE! and BABY! Take roll.)

*Falsely reporting "POOP!"

*Falsely reporting "PEE!"

*Yelling out important up-to-the-minute fashion alerts. "MOMMMM! ROSE ON HOCK! ROSE ON HOCK!" (Hock = sock. Again, she's not good at s.)

*Insisting that your "BLAAAANKIE!" needs adjusting.

*And employing seasonal distractions as applicable. "HAAAANTA CLAUS... HANTA CLAUS COMIN'.... TOWWWWN!"

Emma's Funniest Home Videos

Well, this is not really intended for ALL of your eyes. But it's too funny to pass up. Grandma and Grandpa mentioned wanting to have Emma's "I Love You's" on a video. So I obliged. (Because they're old, ya know.) I'm just kidding, Grandma/pa. You know I love you. Here is the result:

Santa and the Christmas Bird

What do you mean you don't remember this old story? Santa and the Christmas Bird! Everyone knows Santa and the Christmas Bird. Good grief. I can't believe you.

Think back to your childhood... all the old Christmas folklore? Remember? Santa Claus and the Christmas Bird! Come on! The story goes something like....

One night Santa Claus puts on some really snazzy clothes. He struts around his house in a cool red suit with fluffy white trim -an outfit that he got for Christmas last year. He is sure to show everyone in his family how cool and eviable his outfit is again this year. All who see his cool red outfit exclaim with delight and praise about how awesome he looks. All... but one. There is one who does not appreciate the fact that Santa has a neat outfit. This one is full of jealousy and rage that she doesn't have a red suit with fluffy white trim. She wants to wear Santa's outfit. She wants to wear Santa's outfit right now.

And thus, the Christmas Bird is born! Look how EQUALLY cool the Christmas Bird outfit is! Isn't it beautiful? Isn't it just as amazing and terrific as the Santa outfit? (Nod your head with some umphf here if you want to pull this off, people. Consider this an interactive story.)

Yes. Yes. She thinks it is just as cool. THANK GOODNESS. Perhaps we can have some peace now. Ahh... Santa and the Christmas Bird. What a great story.

Compulsive Is The New Fabulous

Wow! It's been awhile since we played a tagging game together. Here we go. Angela says my blog is fabulous and is due for the winning of a "Fabulous Award." While this is certainly no leggy lamp with fishnet stockings, I do consider this a "major award". So thanks!

According to the rules of this tagging game, I'm now supposed to discuss five things that I am compulsive/obsessive/somewhat disturbingly overanalytical about and then award the "Fabulous Award" to a handful of other blogging friends.

Okay! Let's do this! Everybody's got their weirdness, and here's some of mine:

1. Step into the dark corners of my mind with me for a moment. At night when I can't sleep, sometimes I make emergency plans in my head. What if a fire breaks out in my livingroom right now? What if a burgular was to break into the back door at this moment? Would you know what to do? Would you know the exact order of your steps in these emergency situations? Don't worry. I would know. You could go back to sleep. I would have it all laid out and save the day. If you're spending the night at my house and terror ensues, you're covered.

2. My blanket. I love my blanket. And yes, I can't very often go to bed without it. I carry it around with me. Jim, Jack, and now Emma have helped me search the house for it when I occasionally lose track of it. Good grief.

3. Christmas lights. I am slightly Scroogelike when it comes to Christmas lights. When I drive past your house, I will sometimes lose my sense of the benevolent and kind Christmas spirit that should surround us this season. Only momentarily will I slip into a really-not-so-gentle critique of what you've done wrong with your lighting. I'm sorry about that. Merry Christmas!

4. Wrinkles. I abhor them. I don't like them on my clothes. I iron a little more than I probably should. I don't like them in my bed. I will remake the bed just to tighten down the sheets and rid the sleeping area of all things wrinkly that could possibly be beneath my body as I lay unconscious. I don't like the feel of your t-shirt's wrinkles underneath my hand whenever I place my palm on your shoulder. Without hesitation, I will go so far as to yank on your clothing in a vehement effort to smooth things out. There will be no wrinkles underneath my offended hand. (Do I still get my award if this paragraph has been entirely about not my own obsession but my crazy husband's?)

5. To make up for my cheating ways on number four, I'll share a good and gross one that I'm sure you'll feel obliged to give me crap about later. You know that story that came out a little while back about the guy who has collected all of his fingernail clippings over his lifetime in a clear plastic bag? They are curled and brown and disgusting... but he has them. Well, I kind of get it... in a weird way. I do enjoy peeling sunburned skin and collecting it in a pile on the bed beside me before I throw it in the trash. I really like to use the Ped Egg on my heels and then open up the contraption to see the little white mound of dead skin cells waiting there. I like to see how many gray hairs I can pull out of my head in the morning, and it irritates me so much when I lay them on the counter, finish yanking, and then can't find them again to survey my collection. (Gray hairs magically turn invisible when they are not attached to my head.) So, yeah. I understand weird guy's fingernail collecting ways. I would not ostracize him. I would cut him some slack.

(Unless he had screwed up Christmas lights.)

I tag Danavee, Ashley, Andrea, and Jennifer. Go and continue being fabulous. You're it!

Emma Love

Stupid camera and its insufficient memory space for the last word... "Mommy."

It's official. She loves me. (And Daddy.) And we love her too.

How Well Do You Know the Hoodenpyles?

Jim and I don't think this commercial is funny.

Well, we take that back. We like one second (and exactly one second) of it. We can stare at this commercial straight faced and unamused until one particular moment, and then we fall to pieces. Laughter. Laughter with tears streaming down the cheeks, actually.

How well do you know the Hoodenpyles? Can you name the second?

Brigitte Dale

Yes! That's right! A new label: Things That Make Me Happy. Here is my first on the list:

Lately I've discovered Brigitte Dale. I love Brigitte Dale. I'm completely convinced that Brigitte Dale would love me too if she knew me. This is not unlike my belief that John Mayer would fall madly in love with me if only he would spot me in a concert crowd one day and somehow just know that I was his one and only. Or perhaps it is similar to the way that Danavee believes a friendship with Kelly Clarkson is written in the stars for her. (I know, right? Mine are so much more likely... )

But back to Brigitte. Brigitte is a "video blogger". Don't worry. I didn't know what that was either. Look up her name on YouTube and you'll find more than 400 video blog entries... all funny and awkward and neat. She makes me want to be a video blogger too. How fun to just talk to yourself about funny things all day.... for a job!? I think I could make a decent go of this profession although I don't know who would be my boss, or who would pay me, or what I'd talk about.. but... still. I think I might get hung up on the way my nose looks on camera from time to time, but it sure would be fun. (My mom is freaking out right now. No, mom. I'm not going to become a video blogger. That's just weird.)

Watch a sample. I love Brigitte. Brigitte makes me happy.

Say What?!

Emma's words... where do they come from? This one has popped up at bath time lately when little fingers get puckered.

Strictly Because I'm Proud of This...

Halloween 2009

We tricked and treated in the Hills' neighborhood this year. Jack was really a lot happier to do this than this picture lets on. Here are Jack and Zoe on front porch 'candy duty'. The pumpkin to the right hit the sweets a little too hard, you might notice. Tsk.

There! That's more like it Jack. Jim is dressed as Elmo in the background. I can't get him to stop sleeping in this outfit.

A happy cat.

I was just teasing. Elmo was some other

Halloween diehard on the street. Here's Jim in his Jim costume.

Happy Halloween!

Back to Blog Business

Okay. It's time.

Life events are passing me by, and still, I'll have you know that I have no desire to write about them. Don't get me wrong. This is an unpleasant and uncomfortable lack of desire. I miss this blog. I miss getting a good idea and being absolutely squirmy until I could get it on "paper." I miss connecting with you, reader, here in this spot too. I miss it. I really do. But. I don't even know. There's definitely a "but."

Regardless, it's time to quit sulking. I'm going to sit here and force it.
Here are a few things that are blogworthy, but for whatever reason, I've turned up my nose at typing it all out before now. Enough! Let's catch up and get back to business.

Jack has started first grade. He's completely loving it. And he's reading like you wouldn't believe. We practice spelling words every night for homework. We read. We laugh. We work together well. I recently talked with his teacher at parent-teacher conference time, and he received a glowing report. He is somewhat "talkative" at times, but he's a good boy. His first official standardized achievement scores indicate a natural knack for math. And I'm so glad that Jim has passed this on to Jack. He is quirky, tenderhearted, and sweet. And his most cherished possession at the moment is a child-sized "Snuggie"... yes, as seen on TV. He's always been an infomercial addict. This must also be somewhere in the gene pool. Uncle Lee has a similar (weird) affection for Ginsu knife sets, juicers, and Sham-Wow's, and it has somehow wriggled over into Jack's DNA as well. But, yes, the Snuggie is the "it" thing in his life, at the moment. This makes me laugh. Jack is my sweetheart.

As for Emma, she seems to be developing at an unbelieveably rapid rate. She talks nonstop, and I'm not sure that there's anything she can't attempt to say. Her "no's" are resolute and sometimes shouted with furrowed eyebrows because she's not A BIT intimidated by her parents' furrowed eyebrows. And her "yes's" are lisped sweetly in the most adorable way. Lately, my favorite responses are "Coming!" when her name is called from across the house and "Cooo-oool!" when she thinks something is.... well.... cool. At this age, Emma is very independent, assertive, and outgoing. She caught on to Trick-or-Treating in a matter of seconds, complete with "Happy Halloween's!" and "Trick-or-Treats" unprompted. I don't know how this girl knows half of what she knows. But I think she is absolutely amazing. She'll be two at the end of this month, you know. And that is also amazing.

Happy recent ten year anniversary to Jim and me! We enjoyed a whirlwind trip to Vegas, and that was fun. Next comes a cruise to the Caribbean in March. Bring on Spring! I'm restless and ready now!

Look-A-Like

Emma reminds me of a few people these days...

... a little piratey

... a little gimpy

... a little Nolte

Emma's Sense of Safety (On a Sliding Scale)

"Yes, Momma. I agree that I made a bad choice in sliding down that big slide at Wacky World all by myself. I'm sorry, Momma. I won't do that again. In fact, from now on, I'll be leery of all slides. I'll slow down in general. I won't race Jack up or down the stairs anymore. I won't wrestle on the bed. I will be more careful, Mom. I'll fine tune a better sense of cautiousness and healthy fear. I promise you this, Mom. My arm hurts and I've learned my lesson. I just know it."

"Yes, Mom. I am gonna be so careful from now on. See this cast? It'll be a reminder. It'll firm up this lesson in 'I should know better-ness'. You just wait. I will ask you before I do anything crazy from here on out. "

"Oh man. I really hate this sling. I hate it almost to the same degree that I've learned this important lesson in being mindful about the limits of my body, Mom. I won't give you any more gray hairs after this, Mom."

"This tractor is cool, isn't it, Mom? Oh yeah, Mom. Careful.. yes, I'll be careful. I remember."

(Two days later...) "Ooooh, a SLIDE!!! That looks super dangerous and fun. Wait for me, Jack!!!"

"The 2 in the middle of the night," let's just say.

I'm sorry, blog, for calling you a big, fat lump of blah in the following entry.

It's 2 am now. Do you write it "2 am" or is it "2 a.m."? I've seen it both ways. 2 am seems so much prettier. More streamlined and efficient. And if 2 a.m. is correct technically, then how do you handle it if 2 a.m. comes at the end of a sentence? Are there TWO periods? I woke and could not go back to sleep at 2 a.m.. (That can't be right.) 2 a.m. is difficult to type and, if you ask me, it just looks awkward. It's cumbersome. Maybe it's only cumbersome in the middle of the night. If it were 2 pm (2 p.m. ?) and I weren't so incredibly tired, I probably would be thinking about something so much more weighty on my Questions I Wonder About list. Certainly not rules of English abbreviation.

Regardless of the grammatical answers I'm fishing for above, it's the middle of the night. I should be sleeping. Instead, I'm here with you, blog, you big, fat lump of blah. (There it was. Please note my apology.)

My mom says you've gone "stale." I don't think she meant this as a compliment. I'm clarifying because some people actually LIKE their chips, bread, or pretzels a little stale. My aunt leaves the pretzel bag open on purpose for that very reason. Softer, floppier pretzel twists = better. But here in this context, blog... let's clarify. Stale is kind of an insult. I'm sorry about not writing much lately. If we look over at the righthand sidebar, yes, we can agree that the number of entries per month demonstrates a clear trend of steadily declining frequency in posts. What's with that?

I don't know. I just don't have much to say. I don't feel creative even in the tiniest bit. I'm a little bit bored with you, I guess. I want to sit on the couch with Jim. I want to watch "So You Think You Can Dance." I want to play on the new backyard swingset with Emma and Jack. I even want to fold some clothes. (gasp) January - 9 entries. April - 7. June - 5. August - a puny 2. Sorry about that.

Don't fret though. I'll come back around if I know me. You'll probably hear from me in the middle of the night when Jim's away and I can't sleep, or something. Maybe Emma will have just pooped her pants and started screaming about it, solidly reaffirming the case of insomnia your author already had tonight, minus her Jim. And then, after washing the incidental poop off of her hand, your author will return to bed and just... lay there. The mp3 player won't work. Facebook won't make her sleepy. An hour of this will pass. And then... THEN she'll resort to thinking about grammar.

I bet you'll get some love then, you big, fat lump of blah.

Ironman Louisville - 2009

Jim is an IRONMAN! I am SO proud of him. Swim: 2.4 miles, Bike: 112 miles, Run: 26.2 miles. Here are a few shots of pure pain, 11 hours and 9 minutes of it!

Emma News - 21 months old

Curious about Emma these days? Here are a few fun facts:

*loves to play dress up

*preferred accessory is mom's belt

*uses more and more words each day... "yes, cookie, wa-wa (water), mom, dad, hi, up, block, clock, rock, rocket, woof-woof (dog), opp (off), out, go, car, Emma, duck, ball"

*stubborn about giving up the pacifiers

*loves to swing

*pickier eater than Jack ever thought about being

*still loves to dance

*favorite book, hands-down, is "Go, Dog, Go!"

*brings her swimsuit to anyone who's willing to take her to a pool

*adamantly prefers riding in daddy's truck over mom's car

*absentmindedly flips her tongue completely upside down (like her brother and father)

Elaborate Pretending With Jack

Welcome to the ring. Let's meet our wrestlers.

El Toro - "The Bull"

Profile description: And aggressive thumbly man. Fond of his own snarl. Well groomed sideburns.

Likes: Sushi, strolls in the park, cooking

Mariposa

Profile description: Busty little thumb wrestler, lacking in personality

Likes: Long red fingernails contradicted by manly arms and thighs

Pre-Match Interviews

The Match

Thank goodness my second child is a girl. Barbies are so much easier.

For My In-Laws

Thanks for coming over and watching the final (real) stage of the Tour de France with us this year. It's been a race packed full of tensions between teammates on the Astana team this year. It's clear that the Hoodenpyles stand united on Lance's side of any unseen arguments that the media was not privy to. We are all so very happy and excited to see Lance and Johann start up a new American team with a Radio Shack sponsorship for next year. Applause. Applause.



And speaking of sponsorship.. that leaves a certain Alberto Contador up in the air, doesn't it? Does he need a new team? Yeah, maybe. Although I can't stand the guy after this year's shenanigans, I have been brainstorming on his behalf.

I think I've found him a new sponsor. I see lots of potential benefits for Alberto and Garanimals kidwear if these two join forces. Maybe the biggest benefit is that they won't even have to take a new picture! Alberto has already posed.

"For Little Boys", indeed. Good luck, Alberto.

Try This. I know, I know. But Just Try.

Tihs is inretestnig. Did you konw taht you shuold have asboluetly no tourble raednig tihs bolg entry dsepite the hrorible splelnig? Yuor brain is a smrat one. Yuor brian deosnt eevn need the lteters to be in the rhigt odrer. As lnog as all the lteters are there, it's okay. Yuor brain jsut nedes the frist and the lsat lteters to be in the aprporpirate palces. Waht a cool fact. Congarutltaitons! You hvae qutie a powreufl macihne in taht noggin of yuors!

Phobias

Do you know just how many weird phobias there are out there? "Lots" is a totally insufficient word to describe the amount. But there are lots. Jim is watching the Tour de France at the moment, and because I'm interested (but not as interested as he is), I've researched some weird phobias that make me laugh in between my occcasional glances at the mobs of bicyclists on the television screen.

Phobias that I think are strange:

Arachibutyrophobia- Fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of the mouth
Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia- Fear of long words
Kyphophobia- Fear of stooping
Hobophobia- Fear of bums, beggars, or homeless vagrants (This one's for Danavee.)
Apotemnophobia- Fear of persons with amputations
Dutchphobia- Fear of the Dutch

Phobias that I'm pretty sure I have (mildly or severely):

Spheksophobia- Fear of wasps
Aeroacrophobia -Fear of open high places (and specifically someone running up behind you and pushing you off of the open high place)
Apiphobia- Fear of bees
Dextrophobia- Fear of objects at the right side of the body (would be more applicable to me if it said "neck")
Anginophobia- Fear of choking or narrowness (I used to not let Jim eat while we were driving for fear that he would choke on his burger and, while trying to save him, I wouldn't be able to handle both the taking over control of the car AND the administering of the Heimlich maneuver.)

Phobias that I would rather have because they're so much cooler:

Pteronophobia- Fear of being tickled by feathers
Automatonophobia- Fear of ventriloquist's dummies
Lutraphobia- Fear of otters

Daytona Beach Vacation - Continued

Kennedy Space Center - "The Rocket Garden"

This massive building is where the shuttle is assembled. The tour guide explained that three and a half Empire State Buildings could fit inside of this structure.

Looking up at this sort of thing makes you feel very, very small.

This is one of Jim's favorite pictures of the trip, so I thought I'd share. Here it is getting late in our long Space Center touring day... can you tell? Emma's in need of a nap. Mom's in need of patience to endure Emma's needing of a nap.



And here's what we waited for... a much anticipated rocket launch. A little anticlimactic. It disappears into a heavily clouded sky exactly two seconds after snapping this fuzzy picture. To us, it looks a little like one of those fireballs that get blasted out of a Roman candle on the 4th of July. Oh well.... chuckling.

Rock wall climbing at Daytona Lagoon - Jack was very brave until he reached the top for the first time and looked around. It was a little higher than he thought, it turns out.

Go kart racing at Daytona Lagoon

Emma sits on the sand and considers digging with her shovel (after rejecting the water just minutes before). Sand, however, sticks to every exposed surface of the skin and upon realizing this, she rejected it too.

A very happy Jack. Only deeper in love with the beach by this time...

(You can laugh. It was a good joke, I agree.)

A very happy Emma... away from that horrible beach and safely returned to the balcony.

One of my favorite shots of Jack. What a great trip!