A Trip To The Attic...

Recently, Jen decided that Claire and Bridget needed an update to their wardrobes. With "Sprimmer" here, each will need clothes that are a little more comfortable for the warmer temperatures. The fact that it snowed and rained and was 20 or so degrees colder than the previous days when we started this adventure is irrelevant.
So while I'm up in the attic, my feet dangling from the in-ceiling access hatch, Claire decided she wanted to come up with me. She climbed the ladder like the little trooper she is and got to the top step...and FROZE! After 10 or 15 minutes (ok, probably not THAT long, but it sure seemed like it!) of coaxing her to reach up with both hands for me to grab her, she chose to skip the fun in the attic and concentrate on the new batch of jeans, shorts, and T-shirts being plucked from the bins. Bridget had already pulled out a myriad of items that were, seemingly, very fun to play with (and chew on, in the case of the shoes!).

Poor Audrey however found out the hard way that she was exempt from all this apparent fun. In the middle of the event she asked Jen if she were getting some new outfits from the attic as well. Jen's reply was, "No. These are all YOUR old clothes!" A dejected Audrey sulked away, embittered by the fact that she's the oldest and can only "get new clothes". HUMPH!

There's a Monster in our House...

There has to be. That's the only thing that can explain what's been going on.

It all started about a year ago (actually, about six years ago!). Someone started taking a very interesting item from hour house; TOILET PAPER! I can buy a 12 roll pack on Monday, and be back at the store on Friday buying more. I've never seen this TP monster, but I'm sure he exists.

The only other explanation I can come up with is this:

Girls use a LOT of TP!

I prefer the monster theory. I mean after all, if I eliminate the impossible, whatever remains - however improbable - must be the truth, right? So, since three girls CAN'T possibly use this much TP in such a short amount of time, there just HAS to be a TP monster loose, right? If they do, what will happen when Bridget is potty trained?

Maybe a call to the TV show Monster Quest is in order.

To Bridget...

Exactly one year ago today, you came into our lives with little fanfare, but greatly anticipated. For the past 365 days, I have cherished every moment I've spent with you. Although I whine and complain when you wake up at 2:30 in the morning, I secretly rejoice because I get to spend four or five hours with you all alone, just you and me! I have loved every cry, laugh, snort, sneeze, spit up, bath, diaper (well ok, maybe not love the diapers), and mess. I look forward to whatever you have in store for me in the future.

As of today, you are no longer an infant, or even a baby. Today you're a little girl. But, you'll always be my baby! I hope that today brings you much happiness, many joys, and a lifetime of memories. I hope you never forget how much your mom, Audrey, Claire, and I all love you!

Breithlá shona duit Baby Girl!

STILL Halftime At Our House

For those of you who don't know or aren't aware, my wife rocks. Evidence for this is the fact that we all watched the Super (DUD) Bowl on Sunday. We had a great spread and lots of fun. Even Bridget had a good time (I am of course making a HUGE assumption there, since she can't tell me either way!). However, the main reason for our Super Party was the halftime show.
Now, as a teenager, I had the requisite Madonna poster in my room. I liked (secretly) some songs back then, and I continue to like (a little less secretly) some of her songs now.
When the halftime show started, I was watching just as eagerly as Audrey and Jen were. However, I was not prepared to watch the whole thing 5 times. The best part was watching Audrey and Claire dance the whole time to every song!
Sadly though, it is still halftime for us. Audrey watches the halftime show on youtube at least 10 times a night. She and Claire sing "Give Me All Your Luvin'" and "Vogue" constantly while Bridget sits on the floor and "dances" and claps.

Ironically, they are more entertaining than the actual game was.

Corporate America, part 2...

For those of you who missed part 1, click here.
One of the myriad of things Claire wanted for Christmas was a new laptop. The one she had before (and gave to Bridget) only played songs and flashed lights. Jen found one that will help her learn things while being a little more grown up (it came with a mouse!).
Last Tuesday, while enjoying a four-day weekend, er I mean; while I was working from home, Claire was playing with the laptop. While sitting down watching Bridget do something nine-month oldish, I called over to Claire to have her come watch. Claire's reply? "Hold on dad, I need to send this email first"!

SOBERING, isn't it Rick????
Why, yes conscience, it is!

Estrogen Reminders

No other time of year demonstrates more clearly that I live in the deep end of the estrogen pool than does Christmas. There is nothing quite like the feeling of seeing what Santa has brought and not seeing a Tonka trunk, or a Nerf Dart fully automatic machine gun with an 80-round magazine, or a six pack of Hane's underwear.

This year it was Groovy Girls dolls and play sets, Harajuku Mini clothes (for all three), and sewing kits. The only toy that will produce a milliliter of testosterone is the Hot Wheels Shark Park racing set (and yes, Santa brought it for Claire!). I guess there is the Twizzler rope swing. I can go make the girls throw up in the spring!

A Ski Bunny Is Born

So tomorrow is Audrey's first ski lesson. We've spent (and are spending) the remainder of the day getting her ensemble ready. On the way out the door to get a helmet and goggles, Jen was sure to remind me that Audrey's new ski jacket is light pink and her snow pants are black. I really needed to get something not too "matchy" but nothing that clashes.
Ok, wait just a damn minute! I grew up on the slopes, being from Colorado and all. Part of the whole experience of skiing is wearing items that make the furry woodland creatures run for cover! The thought of "matchy" pieces of ski gear is outrageous.

Great, now I have a ski bunny. Hopefully she doesn't find the lodge with its warm fire!