go into hibernation for the remaineder of the day. Not being able to speak, see or hear what's happening in the world is appealing to my inner ostrich right now. 

Oh, that's D's t-shirt for the day. He loves shirts with graphics and pithy sayings. This is one of his favorites.

I'm a little late in posting this. Oh well, right? Good. Anyway, this is the first installment of  "Humpday Hooligans" where the camera is focused on the boys together. I have to admit that I'm not sure how many ways I can photograph them together, but I'm going to give it a try. Different body parts each week could work--like these knees. For those of you who must know, D's knees are on the left, JP's on the right. ;^) I think this picture is pretty cool. You can see their basic height difference just by looking at their knees. Even though JP is nearly 3 yaers older, he's barely 2" taller than Devin. And the way D's been eating the last few weeks, I suspect that gap will be smaller very soon. Eventually, based on what we know of their growth curves since birth, Devin will be taller than JP.  JP struggles with the idea a lot too, (It's hard for me to fathom being shorter than my younger sister; she's about 1" shorter.) so we just remind him that while Andrew is the oldest child, he's also the shortest. His youngest brother is 6'2", and while we don't know how tall his middle brother might have been at full height, he was already over 6' when he died at 17. JP seems to be ok with it for now, but you can see little sparks of envy when Devin gets pants a size bigger than his 'age pants' and JP gets a size that two smaller than his 'age pants.' I suppose I'll just keep reminding him that height is the least important thing and hope he's ok with it in the long run.

Must. Stop. Drinking. This. Delicious. Liquid. Heaven. 

Well, sort of. Andrew's just a big fan of Michigan State. These crocs are just the tip of the iceberg of the MSU branded things he owns. Jackets, hats, sweats, t-shirts, even a fleece throw can be found around our home. He's fiercely loyal to the school and their teams. That loyalty is just one of the traits that I love about my husband. It's one of the things that attracted me to him from the start. When this man is your friend, he's there for you in every situation. I love that. I love him. ♥

♥

The job hunt that is. As I've mentioned before, Andrew is looking for work. We're not new to him being out of work; he was unemployed for about two years at the beginning of our marriage, too. This time it's a bit rougher on us since we've got no financial cushion. I'm not saying we're destitute at all, we've definitely got what we need to get by for a while, but the need to find a new job is much more urgent than it was in 2002.

Can I just say, though, that I hate looking for work? Yes, I know, I'm a stay at home mom. That doesn't mean that I'm not part of the job search. When he's on the hunt, I'm on the hunt, too. I scour job sites, network with people I know, I even read the good ol' classified ads. I make suggestions for the type of job he could look into, and I let him bounce the pros and cons of it all off of me, too.

But beyond all that, I do my best to cheer him on. I remind him that he's worth hiring, that even if the job description isn't a perfect fit, getting his name into their brains is better than not. I tell him, "Don't say no for them. Give them a chance to decide what they want to say."

Job hunting is never fun, nor is it easy.  I'll breathe a big sigh of relief when it's finally over.

There. A picture of me. I'm not a big fan of being on the wrong side of the camera lens, so don't expect to see too many more of these this year. I'm definitely going to try to be in more photos, I just need to learn to give up control of the camera more often.

I can't tell you how difficult it is to get a really good photo of this boy. He has this thing about smiling in pictures; he just won't do it. The guilt he feels over being happy even though his father died is palpable. He doesn't want to appear happy to anyone because he truly believes he should be miserable. I suppose I can only be there to support him, to let him know that it is ok for him to be happy but also that it's ok to still be sad about his father.

In the last four years I've been asked numerous questions about living in Wisconsin. The most common question has to do the weather. Obviously this state is known for the winters. They're cold. And snowy. And really, really cold. I'll admit it, I don't love the winters here. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that I loathe the below freezing temperatures, the snow and ice...oh, the ice! But when you take those cons and pit them against all the pros of this place, well, the pros definitely win.

I love that mix of rural, suburban, and sorta-urban (aka university) areas in this town. I appreciate that I live just two hours from two major cities (Chicago and Milwaukee), should I want more of a city feel. And as much as I dislike the winters, I adore the spring, the summer, and the fall. I'll take the average 80-85° summers in Wisconsin over the 100° summers in Texas or the 90° (with insane humidity!) summers of Florida.  In. A. Heartbeat!

This one is mine. ♥

Meet my husband, Andrew. He proclaims himself a geek, he's got a wicked sense of humor, and he loves me.  We've had our ups and downs over the last eight years, but I wouldn't change any of what we've been through for the world.

I love hearing Devin ask me that question. I know it's going to lead to a lengthy retelling of some event from his day and that it might take up a lot of my time, but I relish that. There was a time when I was convinced he'd never talk at all.

Devin has Asperger's Syndrome. While his official diagnosis didn't come until just after his third birthday, Andrew and I knew something was going on at least a year and a half before that. D was a pretty normal baby/toddler. He was very precocious and had quite the vocabulary. By the time he was a year old, Devin was speaking in full 3-5 word sentences and asking questions appropriate to the situation around him. And then, it disappeared. Seemingly overnight all his language, both receptive and expressive, was gone. We were blessed to have a wonderful pediatrician for D, and the ball started rolling on evaluations. After a few bumps in the road, including a move to Florida where nobody would help him, we landed in Wisconsin where we were finally able to get the help that Devin needed.

Today he's miles ahead of where he was even just a few years ago.  D attended a special education preschool program for two years, and that along with time spent with his brother JP over the summers helped his speech to skyrocket. He's quite the chatty guy these days, well, when he wants to be. I love hearing him tell me, in minute detail, how he played on the computer, or how he played a game on the Wii, or about a book he read to his Puffles. I especially love his questions. He asks things that I know I wouldn't have thought of when I was seven. I love every second of the chatter he fills our house with, and I wouldn't want it any other way.

I mean, really.

Life is good.