Parlez vous...Wait! Don't tell me!

I'm learning to speak French! This doesn't technically count as a New Year's resolution as I've been working on it in fits and starts for the last few months. I had a few years in High school followed by a couple of remedial college courses. And now, more than a decade later, I can tell you that haricot verts are indeed safe to order as a side dish (that'sgreen beans in case you were wondering).

Why the sudden interest in becoming bi-lingual? Well, why not? It's good for your head -- I read somewhere that people who speak more than one language are a lot less likely to develop Alzheimer's (Ignore the fact that I can't remember exactly where I read that or how much less likely their risk was. Google it yourself, haters!). And maybe it will be good for my heart, too. French is the language of love, is it not?

So that's my latest undertaking. I did what I always do when I come up with a new project -- I went out and bought a book. Several books, in fact -- one of which has mostly curse words and slang. I figure when I'm feeling iffy on my French vocabulary, I'll throw in one of those words or phrases and immediately shift my audience from thinking, "Is she an idiot?" to "Ooh, she's just too cool to care." Well, that's the plan at least.

I'd appreciate any tips from anyone else who's tried this self-education stuff. Oh, how I wish I'd paid more attention to poor Ms. Lloyd when I had the chance back in High School French class. Instead I just made fun of her misguided affection for stirrup pants. If I could write a letter to me then...I'd probably forget to mention French or anything else besides, "Enjoy that flat stomach, b!@#$*! It won't last long!!"

My One Resolution for the New Year

William Lyon Phelps wrote, "The final test of a gentleman is his respect for those who can be of no possible service to him." I found this quote in roundabout fashion by reading the latest post on "Tiny Kingdom." You can click the link on the right and follow her link to read the whole thing. My goal for the year is to measure up to this definition of a gentle(person).

Merry Christmas!

We're in a bit of a lull this morning. The babies are napping and Jack is playing Hungry Hippos -- the no-rules-frantically-grab-for-marbles version. So I thought I'd take a moment to say Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all of you taking the time to visit this blog. Thanks for an awesome year. Your comments, both in person and in print, have meant so much to me.

I know it's customary to say, "Hope Santa brought you just what you wanted." And honestly, I don't wish anyone a vacuum cleaner or an electric skillet (unless you're so inclined). But I do have one wish for your New Year. I hope at some point you receive something you didn't expect...something you might even have refused if the choice had been yours. But once this unasked for thing enters your life, I hope you are surprised to find it's better than anything you could have plotted for, planned for, saved for, wished for...just better than anything you could have expected. And I hope that unexpected joy makes you just a little more inclined to relax...to go with the flow...to not get bent out of shape when the road you're traveling suddenly takes a sharp detour into unfamiliar territory. Because you just might wind up someplace wonderful.

Wishing you love in abundance, happiness overflowing and peace tempered with just enough chaos to make you appreciate it. -- J.

They've Got What You Need

As a former drug rep, I can't resist the occasional stab at Big Pharma. Call it biting the hand that fed me, if you will. Don't wait for it to load completely, just press play. Thanks to Sociological Images for yet another winner.

Best Thing I've Seen Today...

...Tommy, with both index fingers pointing skyward, bouncing up and down saying, "Dan' Dan' Dan'." It only got better when the rest of his brothers decided to follow suit, and we all danced together for a brief, beautiful moment; and then it was gone. Short of installing video cameras to tape 24/7, blogging about it is the only way I know to keep something so great from disappearing into the jumble of first words, vaccination dates, and grocery lists that makes up the back of my mind. I hope it makes you laugh when you think of it, too.

Warming My Geeky Heart

O.k. -- I think I've mentioned I'm a former Show Choir geek (jazz hands everybody). That's why I had to post this. A big thanks to Staci for forwarding this one on. I believe this is Indiana University's College Choir.

I would have blogged but...

a whole bunch of life attacked me at once. Bits of it are screaming right now, in fact. I hope you'll check back next week as I have high hopes for a brief moment of sanity sometime between Monday and Friday.

Tom at Large

Photos of Tom are very much like photographs of Big Foot, fuzzy and too far away. Until I get better at action shots, Tommy leaves me slim pickings for posting. But I do try for a fair and balanced blog so no one can claim to be mom's favorite at a later date. Even though I may have failed to capture it on film, this guy is a sweetheart through and through.

Future Host of Blues Clues?

!@#$% Paparazzi!


Tommy or Sasquatch?


Tommy almost being still for a millisecond

Sam Outdoors

Sam discovers nature's icky side...
...And generously shares it with Will
Sam being beautiful

Will Is Beautiful

Will is unsure of his opinion on "nature"


A Dimple Appears


Maybe Leaves are O.k.

Pictures Caught Lately

Jack Tunes In






















Then Tunes Out

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

Upon closer examination of the Christmas card photo (see below), I was struck by how very much my boys needed another haircut. They've already had their "First Professional Haircut" with bits of fuzz saved in an envelope for posterity. But I think three wiggling, screeching, crying boys descending on one unsuspecting hairdresser was a bit much for the poor woman to handle. They all left looking pretty much the same as when they went in. Maybe a little shorter, but not necessarily ready for their GQ cover shoot.

They say the definition of insanity is to do the same thing expecting an different result. With that in mind, I decided that I would give Sam and Will haircuts myself this time. Going to a pro didn't work out that well for us. Why shell out cash if Will's just going to wind up looking like Moe from the Three Stooges anyway? How hard could it be?

The whole process began in the bathtub where I relieved Will of the majority of his mullet. Unfortunately, the scissors I found in the bathroom cabinet were a bit too dull for haircutting. They kind of folded into his hair rather than cutting it. And since speed is of the essence with any task involving Will, I decided to cease and desist for the moment.

Once everyone was dressed and had fairly dry hair, I decided to try again with a pair of much sharper scissors. I tackled Sam first this time, since he really only needed his bangs trimmed. After a quick clip across his brow, it began to dawn on me that simply having witnessed a haircut might not actually qualify me as a hairdresser. Sam had taken on a certain Frankenstein-esque look. Very square across the brow, dropping abruptly past the ears to a much longer back. No wonder there are so many mullets in the world. I had just given my son one without even trying!

I remembered that most of the time the hairdressers pick up the hair in sections, lift it away from the head and do a tiny snip to layer the ends a bit and make them look less boxy. So I gave this a try a few times. But he just wouldn't stop MOVING! Or trying to help with the scissors, which almost resulted in the loss of a fingertip and part of an ear. Luckily, no blood was shed, and I decided as long as I brushed his bangs a little to the side, he looked just fine.

I moved on to Will, but without as much enthusiasm as before. This time, Tessa held him in her lap while I trimmed his bangs. He sat as still as a statue, completely mesmerized by the hair falling across his nose and cheeks. He remained frozen until I finished the front and over the ears. Then he had to turn around and face Tessa, so I could try and fix the back -- slightly mangled by the dull scissors from before. I tried to even it up quickly. But instead of looking down at his lap, which would have been immensely helpful, Will kept bending backward to smile at me upside down. Granted, it was really cute, but not at all conducive to a decent haircut. I tried to do the lifting up sections and snipping them thing, but with so much bending and twisting, the result was iffy at best.

Finally, I stepped back, determined that he looked better than when we started, and decided to leave well enough alone. Fortunately for Tommy, he doesn't have any hair to trim, and Jack has so much hair that I'm completely afraid to touch it, so both those fellows were left out of this particular endeavor.

All in all, I don't regret the experience. I think they still look cute, and I managed to avoid a chaotic trip to the hair salon. Although, I'm not sure I'll be able to do it again, just because I'm already so far out of my comfort zone. Next time, I may leave their hair in the hands of professionals. Until then, cross your fingers that the mullet makes a comeback, because I seem to have a knack.

This One's for the Christmas Card!

O.k. Guys! Let's all look at Mommy!

That was good, but let's all try smiling this time!

Seriously, Tommy, there's a good chance your face is going
to stick like that.


O.k. Guys...we're just looking for one decent picture here.



Good enough. Merry Christmas, everybody!