Hot Saturday Nights

Typically, our Saturday nights are filled with fun things.

Like, that one time, when we shampooed ALL the carpets.

But we didn’t use the store-bought cleaning solution. Ours was a homemade cleaning solution of boiling water and distilled vinegar.

We can get pretty wild and crazy out here.



Last Saturday was a little more exciting.

We turned on the heat before bed.

(insert newlywed joke here)

ANYways... thank goodness Sarah stayed up for a little while, because she woke me up concerned about a “smell.”



We learned:
1. The smell of natural gas and smoke are a bad combination
2. Seeing a real fire in your home makes you rethink the lame fire-escape-plan
3. Dallas Fire Department: Not as quick as you might imagine
4. A 3 year old will immediately wake up if you ever-so-quietly tip-toe past his room. But when the house fire alarm is blaring and the fire department is screaming down the street? Sound asleep…
5. A new ac/heating system will slightly affect the newly created one-income budget


So, if you see us....

...selling Zac’s play-doh creations as “abstract art”...

...or notice our change of address to a 20-ft hunting trailer ...

...rest assured that we are just trying to recover after purchasing our new AC/Heating system.



Seriously, though, this was a real emergency situation and we are very thankful that Sarah was awake. Basically, the 25-year-old unit had reached its last day. The fire chief told us that if we had both been asleep, all 3 of us would have been asphyxiated before the house went up in flames.

A sobering moment that made it a little easier to swallow the impending financial implications!


Thankfully, the Lord had better plans for us.

Like updating this blog.

Aren’t you lucky? Hmmmmm?

But I won.

Dear Zac,

You have made a big impact on me.

And by impact, I mean the 1-inch gash I now have on the top of my head.

Everytime the shower water hits my head, my screams of agony will remind me of you. And should I ever succumb to Male Pattern Baldness, I will get to share the story of the time we raced to get dressed.



Last night, Mommy - in her quick-thinking wit - announced a last-minute race to see who could get dressed in lawn clothes faster.

Suspicious that she might be assisting you (What do you mean you can't unbutton your shirt by yourself? Cheater...), I was determined to prevail and enjoy all benefits and praise that may or may not come with the title of The Fastest Dresser.

I remember it like it was yesterday.



Anyways, in what seemed to be slow motion, my clothes were strewn around the room and I knew I was winning with mere seconds to spare.

I pulled my 2nd shoe on and began to leap across the hall to your room.

Unfortunately, my cougar-like legs could not contain the power within, and my leap was a little higher than I anticipated.

And, midair - as I was screaming I WON! my head slammed into the top of the door frame to your room.



When I came to, I was in the fetal position with my head in Mommy's lap. Sure that my neck had snapped, I was ready to bequeath my belongings and take my last breath. But Mommy assured me with a smile, I was, in fact, alive. (wait... was she laughing at me?)

You, non-reactive and carelessly stepping over my body in your doorway, were ready to head outside. And, oh yeah, you want to be pushed on your swing.

With a new cracked doorframe, a raging headache, and a less-than-sympathetic wife, I followed you outside to play.

But I won.

In sickness and in health

Misery does NOT love company. Being sick is much more gratifying when you can whine and complain and lay around while being taken care of by your healthy energetic spouse.

This weekend, with both of us barely clinging to life, no one was there to take care of us.

We stumbled into Kroger on Saturday night to buy soup and crackers, both of us feverish, chilled, and slightly delusional. Even watching a movie was too difficult for our coughing, aching, hot-then-cold, can't-sit-still bodies.

And we all know that nothing is more attractive than the sounds of post nasal drip.

Sunday, we mustered up the energy to replace little Nemo and Spotty. Two PetSmarts and one Walmart later, we think we've accurately matched up Nemo. Spotty was a little tougher.

How to avoid explaining the death of Goldfish:

1. Freeze dead fish and find reciepts

2. Buy fish that somewhat resemble those whom we fondly remember

3. Convince child that fish sometimes change colors/lost spots/alter personalities over the weekend

But what do you do when the family wakes up on Monday morning and the two NEW fish are dead?

Flashback Friday

I remember when Zac got his fish.

Last Tuesday.

He loves them so much. "Spotty" and "Nemo" are the highlight of his day.

He calls me at work to see how they are doing.

At night, we put the tank in between his bed and the nightlight, so he can watch them swim until his eyes won't stay open anymore.

And then we hear in the morning how they "ate their food 10 times!" before he fell asleep.

We hear him talking to them in the evening, telling them how to roll dice correctly. And telling them he is "so glad the pet store was open."

He thinks he is their "Daddy."

So, Sarah and I promise to take care them while he is gone for the weekend. We even cleaned their tank last night. But when we wake up this morning, they are floating at the top of the tank.

WHY GOD?! Why? We have murdered his children!

Our weekend, formerly planned with fun things like sorting the garage and folding laundry, now will consist of us freezing little Nemo and Spotty, then frantically searching the metroplex pet stores to find a matching set of goldfish before Zac comes home on Sunday.

Surely we aren't the first parents lying and conniving trying to protect the emotional stability of our child.

All of the above

This is a lesson in.......

A) God makes plants

B) Learning colors

C) Counting to 20

D) Assessing a child's maturity, good judgment, strength, and coordination to determine the earliest age at which they can safely assume fundamental outdoor responsibilities

Getting to know each other...

What exactly is Babycenter?

There goes my study...

It's not even physically possible yet... but did we getcha?

I hope so, because I got fooled with it earlier this morning.

Happy April 1!!!