5 years ago

april 25, 2003
we were dreaming of august
planning our day, planning our lives, planning our life away
the world was our oyster
or at least it would be if either of us acctually liked oysters.
maybe the world was our cappriotti's bobby. yea. that's it.
either way, the world was ours.
we spent every waking moment together, or thinking about being together, or literally driving to or from being together.
when we weren't together, or thinking or literally driving, we were text messaging.
seriously, a lot of text messaging. the national federation of extensive text messangers would be proud.

you: a very cool blue-grey jeep with no doors.
me: a very un-cool silver-grey neon with no automatic door locks.
notes on my very un-cool silver-grey neon when i left for work in the morning...planted by mr.thoughtful at some point in the middle of the night.
shopping for clothes, and shoes and bags and hair highlights on any given day.
back when money flowed like a red martini on white carpet...
we ate, drank and be merry. c
heesecake factory.
chilis. chips and salsa.
maddys with the gang.
dave and busters with stephen. broken machines and winning tickets.
hammocks and moonlight.
dinner and dancing and falling in love.

fixing up our "prefabricated" house at 2048 lenape unionville.
brown, brown and more brown paneling.
dreams, dreams and more dreams of what the future would hold.
looking beyond the brown paneling and seeing what life would be like as husband and wife.
no one could have prepaired us for the next 5 years.
for living chinese, 2 babies on board, 11 diferent houses, and lots of cheese curls.
but each day got us closer, moved our hearts ever closer together, and gave us what we needed to be who we are on april 25, 2008.

sometimes you are being prepaired for the future during your today.
and sometimes you find yourself right where you are, and you love it.
that is me today.


perfect day

the perfect day according to foster:

hair static from endless sliding.

rosey cheeks from riggorous climbing.

a green backhoe digging up lots of dirt that sticks really well to clean sneakers.


the sound of silence

do you hear that sound? if you are saying "what sound? i don't hear anything" then you must be sitting in my kitchen, drinking a glass of tepid water and writing a new blog entry...because that is what i am doing, and all i hear is silence. the absense of sound...this my friends is what silence must sound like. i could acctually think a few thoughts in my oh-so-silent brain if i felt so inclined. na. that would mess up my silence.

wow. thats a lot of kids!

all 19 of us together at once for a photo-op

young love


sticks and stones

foster is obsessed with sticks and rocks (gotta be a guy thing). we are not talking about twigs mind you...these are full-grown STICKS...you know the kind that could be mistaken for a sword if you happen to find yourself in impending danger. and the rocks are not exactly anything to be taken lightly either. i think david himself would be proud (of david and golieth).

so we are off. large non-twigs in hand and as we walk. "we" (meaning foster, and me repeating as a good mom does in training the early linguist) continually call out "rock!" as a new jem is found along the edge of the grass. "we" proceed to jam it between our fingers and sticks so that as the trip progresses the extra space in "our" hands becomes increasingly impeached. as "we" reach down for one last decadent rock...a real beauty, i might add...at least 3 inches in diameter, rough around the edges and completly coated in mud...the dam breaks under the pressure of stick/rock overload and we have a catastrophy of vast proportion. sticks and rocks scatter everywhere. "OH-NO!" "we" shreak! a large effort of picking and swooshing and shuffling ensues as "we" grasp at every last morstle. i suggest putting them in the basket under rowan's stroller so as to not repeat this episode in the future. this is a grand idea, and each individual peice is carefuly stowed one at a time. (did you hear what i said? ONE at a time.) 9 minutes later, we are off again. our precious cargo is safetly stowed in our under-stroller compartment. all is well.

repeat the above steps 13 more times.

ah, life with little boys. i love every second of it!


at the choo-choo

there is a cute (little) wooden train in our development, and for our choo-choo obsessed child, the fact that it is a rather lame display of playground potential dissapears and it becomes an endless climbing, sliding, acorn finding, stick hitting zone of enjoyment.

foster's fake smile - he was not thrilled about being forced into posed photography so that i can have at least one picture to document the fact that i do, in fact, exist. i have found that as i look through our pictures there are none of me! these kids are going to grow up thinking that i was just a figment of their imagination!

the tongue of enjoyment



you know that saying "if i had a penny for every time i heard...such-and-such"?

well, seriously, if i had a penny for every time i have heard "choo-choo" in the past 5 months of my life i would be a world renound collector of Manolo Blahniks, sporting a non-knockoff dolce and gabanna bag, and an entire wardrobe fashioned entirely out of strategically placed diamonds and precious jewels.


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