The ultimate motivator.

Kids will do a lot for a piece of candy corn.

 

As it turns out, dogs will, too.

Now accepting applications.

Moms. Just because it's summer doesn't mean your children shouldn't be held to the highest educational standards!

At the Breyer Home For Our Two Children And Their Parents, kids are exposed to a rigorous academic curriculum and expected to develop anywhere from 10-15 new skills during the summer months. These skills include but are not limited to:

Table manners.

Literary appreciation. 

Lawn care.

Personal grooming.

Penmanship.

Photography.

The creative arts.

Physical fitness.

Basic mobility.

Risk-taking.

And accessorization.

 

Sure, this much learning in one summer may seem overzealous or even overbearing to some. But to those who doubt my methods I say:

Can you think of a better way to cram an entire summer's worth of random photos of me not teaching my kids anything into a single post? Because clearly I cannot.

A modern classic.

Last night before bed, Calvin starting singing Jesus Loves Me for the first time by himself. It was precious. That is, until he got to the middle.

"Jesus wuv me this. I. know. Bible tell me so. Wittle wuns to beeeeeyond!"

Um, what?

I asked him to sing it again with the same results, only this time when he got to the "to beeeeeyond!" part, he pumped his little arm up in the air.

Ohhhhhhhh.

He was singing the Buzz Lightyear version of Jesus Loves Me. Of course.

Thank you, Disney-Pixar.

Card-carrying members of the NRA.

As if. The only thing that we might belong to that has those initials is the National Restaurant Association, which I just made up. But we could totally pass for NRA members, couldn't we? Look at Nate's squint! Look at me coolly blowing on my freshly-fired gun!

Nerds.

On Saturday night, we went out with our good friends Scott and Brenna. Nate's mom and dad took Calvin overnight, the Vuongs worked miracles to secure a last-minute babysitter, and the four of us had a double date. Over dinner, Brenna asked if we had any romantic Valentine's Day plans. To which Nate replied "Why, yes! We're going out to dinner with our friends Scott and Brenna and then going bowling. How about you?"

We've never been big on Valentine's Day at our house. Except for the first year we were dating, when Nate made me a fancy dinner and HUNG FLOWERS FROM THE CEILING. It can only go downhill from there, right? Besides, I prefer to show my love to my husband every day. But there will, of course, be flowers waiting for me when I get home. And yes, that is a statement, not a question. And also a bit of a threat.

So, our uber romantic Valentine's Day date consisted of stuffing ourselves to the gills with steak and crab, a million rounds of skeeball, and bowling. Turns out Nate and I suck at bowling. I didn't think I sucked, but I do. Especially next to Brenna, who is like Mrs. Bowling Minnesota or something. It's so hard to have friends who are cooler than you. Unfortunately like 99.5% of mine are. Which isn't saying much — I'm some kind of dork (did you read that first paragraph?).

Scott was never quite able to cut the string in the game with a dangling Nintendo DS despite a solid $15 worth of effort, and by the end of the night I was on a first-name basis with the teenager working the arcade ticket counter because this 31-year-old woman is too, uh, special to use the newfangled coin card technology. But Brenna beat Scott at bowling and won the right to sleep in yesterday, and Nate redeemed himself by bowling a turkey, so I'd call the night a success. And Calvin is now the proud new owner of a foam football, some girly stickers, a plastic dinosaur, and some other weird crap we were able to trade for our 350 tickets.

That's right, 350 tickets.

We may suck at bowling, but we are AWESOME at picking easy games that give you lots of tickets. Breyers FTW!

Christmas bells, er...sirens.

I don't know where you spent Christmas day this year, but my family spent it on a fire truck.

Yeah, you read that right.

Christmas day has always been celebrated in a somewhat non-traditional fashion by my family. We usually spend it at a movie; one year we spent it at a truck stop. And I wouldn't have it any other way. There's no extended family drama, no fancy dinners, no dressing up. Just good ol' family time, yummy appetizers, a trip to the movies, and many rounds of whatever board game we feel like playing that day. (This year it was Apples to Apples. I think we played it for about six hours on Saturday.)

Since Cal's still too young for a movie, we've had to forgo that tradition the past two years. But we did manage to get out of the house, and that was for a trip to the Lockport Fire Department, where my brother-in-law, Kyle, is a fireman.

Coolest. Uncle. Ever.

(Well, all of his uncles are really cool. But Uncle Kyle has fire trucks. Hard to compete with that...)

Calvin was in awe. And a little scared. He refused to wear Kyle's helmet or try on his boots...but he loved looking around. And so did we. In fact, I may have worn my junior firefighter sticker for a few days afterward...


Checking things out with Uncle Kyle and Daddy:



Love him.


"And here we have some knobs, and also some levers..."


No, of course I did not almost drop my child out of a fire truck.


A sisterly photo op.


I am ROCKIN' that helmet. Future fire chief, no doubt.


Studly men, doing manly things.


Jordan showing us his sexy fireman pose for next year's calendar.


Love this one of Kyle with Calvin...and Calvin's hat in his back pocket.


My junior firefighter.


If this wasn't so heinous of me I would insist on my parents using it for next year's Christmas card...