Fun Times

I was thinking this morning as I was holding Cayden about a time when Mike and I didn't have children. We were an aunt and an uncle before we were parents. My niece was kinda fussy one night and Mike asked if he could hold her. My sister said "she likes to be on your shoulder" meaning held up so that she could nuzzle into your neck (you know like when you burp a baby?). So, we all start talking and my sister-in-law starts laughing so hard. I look at her and she's looking through her laughter induced tear filled eyes at Mike. He's sitting there with Mia ~sitting~ on his shoulder (you know how you would hold a kid up on your shoulders with your head in between their legs? Well, put the kid on one side of your shoulder). I started laughing and Mike looks at us and says "what?" My sister-in-law says "up to your shoulder, not on it." Mia had to be maybe three months old so she was slouched over and didn't look comfortable at all. Poor girl. Needless to say, Mike learned 'how to hold a baby' before we had our baby just six months later.

For Rachael

Please excuse the naked chest

England v. USA

You know, the hardest thing about living in a foreign country and being married to someone that is a different nationality is times like tonight. England is playing the USA in football. I have Mike routing for England and getting Ryan to route for England, and then there is me. I have observed a Euro quarter/semi/final and the World Cup final. The atmosphere here makes it very easy to route for England. So, that's what I've done. I will be completely honest. Football was a sport I used to ~loathe~ until I moved here. I have since gotten really into it, and enjoy supporting England. Tonight, I'm having a little bit of an inner battle. I love supporting England, yet I feel an obligation to support the US because that's where I'm from. Oh what to do. What. To. Do.

Okay I made up my mind. England it is. GO ENGLAND!

Santa Ryan!

So tonight in the bath Ryan kept saying "beard, mammy, santa!" he had his back turned when he was saying it, so I said for him to turn around and this is what he looked like! He kept telling me he was Santa because he had a beard. Silly boy.