Ring Bearer made us proud!

Posting the wedding pictures from Kyle and Tara's wedding has taken much longer than I had hoped, but here they are! There were hundreds of photos (literally) from which to choose, but here are some faves:

The Rehearsal: Friday, February 6, 2009 - Springfield, Missouri

Kyle presented the pillow to Jack and explained the importance of the Ring Bearer role. This was the first time my sweet nephew made me cry that weekend, but certainly not the last.

The rehearsal went off without a hitch. His smile was precious and he took pride in his special job. Jeff and I were instantly optimistic about how he'd do the next day.

The Rehearsal Dinner - Pleasant Home Fellowship Hall

Nephew Kyle and Niece Kayla with Jack and Davis.

Lacey, Jack, and Hope at the Rehearsal; Family photo at the dinner.

The BIG DAY! Saturday, February 7, 2009:

Jack just before showtime; Kyle seats his mother. Second time I cried. That could be me one day. And then... the Bell Ringers and Ring Bearer appear... the strings accidentally stopped playing before the boys came down the aisle, but they just walked down in silence.

I was so proud of each them. They did great!



Kyle couldn't hide his emotion when his beautiful bride came down the aisle. I captured the last few moments on film. It was so sweet. (Third cry.)

Here they are - Kyle and Tara Griffin! Sometimes I accidentally call them Kara and Tile, but luckily it hasn't happened to their faces... yet.

On right: Greg, Sharon, Tara, Kyle, and Kayla (who sang beautifully at the wedding.)



Greg, Sharon, Kyle, and Kayla. I loved the black and lime green dresses Tara chose.

Jack relaxin' after a hard day's work!

Jack Everett LOVES "his" Kayla. He follows her outside for some outdoor shots.



Jack ran away just before the "jump shot."

The Reception - Wow, what a party!

Jack with Aunt Mel just BEFORE the server spilled 10 glasses of grape juice down her new dress. Luckily, Melody took it like a champ and was very kind to the mortified (sopping wet) waitress.

After a formidable fit in the elevator, Jack turned his frown upside down and loosened his tie for some food, fun and dancin'!

Nana sure missed Papa on this most special occasion, but two little boys made sure she was never left without a gentleman to dance with!

After being dressed up for over eight hours, Jack Everett had had enough, so we called it a night.

Here are the rest of the wedding pics (in a Facebook Album) - check them out!

What a memorable wedding. It is so enjoyable to celebrate a couple who is starting their lives together the RIGHT way. Their patience in waiting and following God's design for marriage was quite a testimony to everyone in attendance. The wedding ceremony itself was the worship service God intended and it was an experience few will forget.

Welcome to the family, Tara! We love you and are very proud to call you "ours!"

Our five-trick pony...

It is so amazing to see these babies demonstrate that they can learn new things. Millions of connections are being made every day in that curious little brain, but it takes a while for the results to become visible to an expectant Mommy and Daddy. Well, they are starting to show up in Davis and I am just as amazed watching him as I was the first go-round.

Here are some of our blondie's newest tricks, none of which are actually useful except as an endless source of entertainment.

Act 1: "Pat, Pat, Pat."



Act 2: "The wave."

Act 3: "The bbbtthmhthhmhbbbb....."

Act 4: "Dada." (Well, 1 out of 2 parents in this house think that is what he's saying.)

Act 5: This just happened about two hours ago and I was pretty shocked. You can hear in my shrill, annoying narration how excited and surprised I was when our little "Davis in the Box" revealed this new skill.

You can see Jack was just as surprised as we were when Davis "boosted" himself. Oh, and it's time to lower the crib mattress. Fun times.

So, what happens when Baby Davis doesn't do his tricks on command?

That's right. He has to get down and give me twenty. Actually, his unsuccessful attempts at crawling usually result in these little baby push-ups.

Next trick on the docket: We've begun teaching him Sign Language in hopes of replacing the shrieky Pteradactyl cries with the simple sign for "MORE." I am told (and will simply have to trust) that it's not too early to start, so we are giving it a try.

Today at lunch Jack signed "more" and repeated OVER and OVER... "More, Dave? Do you want more? Do this, Dave. Look, Dave. Do this. DAaaaVIS!"

He finally said, "Momma, he won't even look at me! I think the first word we need to teach him is his name."

Mii No Like.

Guess what?! Researchers have discovered a cure for high self-esteem!

It's called the "Wii Fit."

My nieces Hope and Lacey have one but I had never tried it. So, last night, Hope created my "Mii" on their system and named her "Auntie M." Jack enjoyed helping her pick my hair, eye shape, nose, mouth, shirt color... everything. That's about where the fun ended.

So, after entering my birthday and height, it asks that I stand on the Wii Balance Board scale. My weight pops up on the big screen, but not before the system lets out a GROAN as if I am about to break it. Of course laughter breaks out in the room.

As it calculates my BMI, this pops up on the screen:

As soon as it does, there is a loud plop sound and "Auntie M" suddenly has a gut and love handles! How rude. I then undergo a series of balance tests and it asks me (and every person in the room looking at the big screen) to wait while it calculates my "Wii Fit AGE." Oh great. I haven't even gotten used to my REAL AGE... You can hardly see this next pic, but here it is:

Yes, that is a FORTY-FOUR! Wow, this started out as a fun activity and now I feel like a FAT person... who is also OLD. Oh, and let's not forget WEAK. After the laughter in the room dies down, I am asked to choose a personal trainer... male or female. Well, those who know me know I instantly picked the male trainer and guess who it turns out to be?!?! Is it Bob Harper?... NOPE! Bob Greene?... NOPE... it's...

... JEFF GRIFFIN !!!??!?! What the?! This just got one million times worse.

I wanted to say to the screen, "No, dude, this is NOT a good evening." Instead, I completed a series of humiliating ab-tightening games:

I headed soccer balls while avoiding panda bears and soccer cleats and was called... "Amateur..."

... I bent down and then plunged up for snow-ski long jumps and was called... "Unbalanced."

After about six sub-par jumps, I felt a little bit like a kid with an overwhelming urge to whine, "I don't wanna play this any mooooooore!" So, Auntie M. took a break from the slopes. We packed up the kids and my personal trainer drove me home. As soon as we walked in, I saw this:

My new treadmill from Dad. I suddenly felt a fondness for it that I had never felt before. I have totally been taking it for granted. I began to appreciate that it loves me unconditionally. It does not call me names. It does not make groaning sounds when I put my weight on it. It does not make a loud buzzing sound when I stop before the allotted time is up (thank goodness.)

This morning I reflected on last night's experience and looked at the treadmill, my trusted old friend. As a sign of my gratitude, I decided to give it a day off today. Hey, it deserves it.

Besides, I am a Wii bit sore from ski jumping.

Play-Don't

I so totally want to be THAT Mom. You know, the one who says, "Relax... let them play... it washes... they're just having a good time... you can just vacuum it up... kids will be kids..." Yeah, HER. Well, (as Julie and Laura know) I am so NOT HER.

But this time, Jack was asking for Play-Doh, Little Brother was asleep and I had a huge load of data entry to complete for the church. Perfect.

I left him with just four cans of Play-Doh and muttered these famous last words: "Can I trust you not to swirl them together or make a mess? Just do your best." "Yes, Momma," he assured me. I trust him. He doesn't like getting messy any more than I do.

About 35 minutes later he came to me, all proud, "Momma, come look at my beautiful rainbow!" I followed him, envisioning four long different-colored snakes laid carefully next to each other to make a rainbow.

Here is what I saw when we got to the kitchen...

Oh, no he didn't!

Oh, yes he DID.

Not four cans swirled together... but T-W-E-L-V-E. I hadn't put the Play-Doh basket high enough. How courteous of him not to bother me and just help himself to eight more cans. I had to take a deep breath and contemplate how to react. Was this curiosity? Artistry? Disobedience? He was so happy, "Isn't it beautiful, Momma? It's bigger than my face! Look Momma, it's bigger than my face and my whole two hands!"

I hadn't said, "Do NOT mix these together, do you understand?" I had not checked in on him and he had been unattended for a good 35 minutes. He is just four years old. Is this to be expected of a 4-yr-old? Is this disrespecting his things or making art? I didn't really know. All I did know is that I had better grab my camera. After all, I had to e-mail pics to Jeff.

As usual, I decided to go with the Natural Consequence method of parenting. I explained that he had made a choice to mix them all together, and that he would have to play with it like this for a long time. He said, "That's okay, now I have twelve cans of rainbow Play-Doh and I love 'em!" I said, "Okay, you made a choice, so I am glad you are happy with your decision."

We put them all back into the containers and neatly back into the organized Play-Doh bin for next time. (For a Mom who hates picking little pieces of Play-Doh out of the crevices of our Play-Doh tools, you can imagine how much I hated picking out nasty brown swirled up pieces.) I knew good and well when it was time to play next time he would be disappointed, but he'd learn. One thing was for sure: This Momma would NOT be buying new Play-Doh for a very long time.

So, the next morning... Yes, the VERY NEXT morning, we went to Jake's second birthday party.

Guess what the party favor was:

Seriously, you can't make this stuff up.