10 Years Old

Andrew turned 10 years old on Jan. 3rd. That's so insane. 10 years old???

He's not my cute little baby anymore, that's for sure. He is a kid hanging in limbo somewhere between that cute little boy of years past and an obnoxious teenager. He smells, refuses to take a shower, hates getting his hair cut, or even combed for that matter, constantly talks about farts and poop, and loves to eat his boogers. And yet somehow, we do love him.

We had a party just the 3 of us on his actual birthday...

Andrew loves infomercials. He had been begging for the Sobakawa Cloud Pillow for a verrry long time. Whatever floats your boat kid.

That weekend he had a bowling party with friends and cousins.

Andrew and Ben...best buddies.

12 Years

It's been 12 years of marriage for us. I'm not a mooshy person, and am getting even less mooshy the older I get...if that's even possible...so I have nothing mooshy to say. (Tim just walked in the room and read this and was totally flabbergasted. He demanded that I write 12 mooshy things about him for the 12 years. Whatever).

I do love him dearly if that counts for anything ;)

He is my best friend. Ever. Period.

Cats 101

I think cats are smarter than we give them credit for. Their main purpose in life is to annoy us, and they know exactly how to do it. In the morning, every single morning while I'm still in bed, Squirt (who weighs 20 lbs) likes to climb all over me, particularly my bladder, knowing full well that I'm desperate to get up and pee. Or, if you're wearing light colored clothes, our black cat likes to rub up against you and if you're wearing dark colored clothes, all of a sudden our white cat, Squirt, wants to be your best friend. And the laundry. It doesn't even have to be warm out of the dryer for them to want to snuggle into it. They just know that it's clean and it needs cat fur all over it. I'm telling you, they think these things through.