Friday, December 24, 2010

The Graduate

Sometimes we get pictures taken so I can look back and pretend we're a normal family. I'm totally digging that no one asks why we gave Eve a Charlie Brown haircut anymore. I'm going to make normal my beetch!

You can become a fan of Jo's PhotoMojo on Facebook here. Be sure to check her out and watch for upcoming CureSearch fundraising sessions. I really don't think anyone should put off getting pictures done. You just never know when someone's going to end up bald.

So this past week...kind of busy. Not chemo-busy, though, so I won't complain. I finally got around to uploading pics to the computer. (And yes, I gauge how busy I've been by how old the pics are on my camera.)

Nat made a birdhouse in the beginning of the month at school. Now she's committed to feeding the birds during the winter because they can't get food for themselves. Thank goodness for kindergarteners or else birds would have been long gone by now, much like dinosaurs and unicorns.

Here she is after the Christmas Parade. I'm only a couple of weeks behind at this point. Sometimes I'm so far behind, I'm first.

And Dan got new firefighter boots. He and firefighter boots go as far back as a four-year-old and firefighter boots can possibly go back. He would later go on to play Joseph in these boots.

Little known fact: Joseph had tactile sensory issues.

Matt finished graduate school. No amount of exclamation points or emoticons could express how happy I am about that. To celebrate his last night of class, the kids and I met him afterward on Hillsborough Street to eat at Time Out. I got my favorite- the chicken and cheddar biscuit with egg. Matt calls it the ultimate insult to chickens.

It's hard to tell from the picture, but that thing is almost as big as my face. And my face ain't getting any smaller after eating these once a month. I guess it's also healthier that Matt has finished school and no longer passes by the biscuit gods on his way home from class.

After graduation, Matt and I went to the Chancelor's Reception and fulfilled my dreams of posing in front of large Christmas trees in an effort to feel what it's like to be short. I don't know what Randy Newman was talking about; short people totally have a reason to live, if only to pose in front of Christmas trees.
We mingled and said a quick hihowyadoing to the chancelor and then set off to the cheese table. I ate green cheese. A lot of green cheese.

I knew you wouldn't believe me, so I took a picture.
I guess this is what happens when you leave blue cheese and cheddar cheese alone together in the fridge with an open bottle of wine. I was teaching abstinence-only to my cheese but may rethink that policy now that I've had the pleasure of a cheese love-child.
And of course, I'm the only nerd taking a picture of the cheese, and a woman who was trying to figure out who moved her cheese kindly moved out of the way while I whipped out my camera. I said a less crass equivalent of, "What the hell are we eating?" and spoke with her for a while before realizing it was the chancelor's wife. But it was cool because this was her first experience with a cheese of this color, too. (We were both cheese noobs.) I have a dream that cheese will not be judged by the color of its curd but the content of its calcium.
And what graduation photo would be complete without finding the most inappropriate background for the graduate?
I really think this should be his LinkedIn profile pic.
We went to Toys R Us at 1:30 a.m. a few days ago. Just because we could. I was surprised that the whole parking lot was full, yet the store was pretty quiet. I know kids are loud, but I guess I am so used to tuning them out that I just walk around assuming there should be ringing in my ears anytime I'm awake.
No signs of purple on sale. Damn you, purple.

The Elf on the Shelf was broken out this week. And the name Natalie & Daniel picked out?

Are you ready?

Mart Brent.

So yeah, I don't feel at all silly telling the kids in public they better behave or else Mart Brent is going to fly to the North Pole and tell Santa they were naughty. Actually, I really don't. I take pics of my family in front of posters for UrineTown.

This morning we got to stand in line for two hours to see Santa. We tried earlier last week before Mart Brent came to live with us and the kids were crazy naughty. After Mart Brent, it was like they were different children. Like, children who weren't even ours.
Here's hoping Mart Brent can whip your kids into shape, too.

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