Honor went to his two year check up yesterday. He’s getting so big. He weighed 24.5 lbs and was 35 inches long. I can’t believe that tomorrow is his second birthday. He has changed so much in the last year.

Well, maybe not that much…

We’ve been through quite a lot in the past year, trips to the hospital, countless items thrown in and recovered from the the toilet, lots and lots of cereal poured all over the floor.

I think Jim said it best, “We’ve already been through the terrible ones, what could be next?”

But whatever is next, we’ll get through it. And we’ll love it, because whatever he brings, it’s easier to deal with when we look at his crooked smile and chubby cheeks and hear him whisper back, “I. Wove. You.”

Awhile back, before Honor really talked much, Eden had taken to saying “Rocky Butt.” No one knows were she got it, but she said it about 100 times a day. The frequency of this is partly my fault, because whenever Eden would say it, Honor would repeat it and it was just so dern cute…

After hearing our little chorus of “Rocky Butt”, oh, a million times, Jim decided that it wasn’t cute anymore and told Eden that she needed some new material. “Why is it always ‘Rocky Butt?’ Why not ‘Rocky Toe?’ Or ‘Rocky Nose?'” He said. So somehow she has taken to saying “Rocky Dude.” Everyone is a “Rocky Dude.”

But now that we’ve broken her of saying “butt” every other word, she’s not saying anything that’s potentially embarrassing to us and she had to come up with a new one. So Jim informed me the other day, what Eden’s new phrase is. It’s a phrase that I’m ashamed to admit, must be straight from my mouth, “Freakin’ Dork.” So I asked her about it, “Eden do you say ‘Freakin’ Dork?'” And she tells me, “No, Honor says it to himself.” She’s smart that one.

Thank you all for participating in my hair drama with me. I know that I promised better pictures today, but that means that I have to commit to taking a shower, and that’s just a little too much.

But I can show you photos of the kids, because I got my iphoto fixed.

Eden making a silly face.

Eden with her very best friend, Alannah, who is over a head taller than her and 2 months younger.

Honor was slowly transferring the whole sandbox onto the patio using these two legos.

Today I am busy getting the invitations for Fiesta Blevinza out. I wish you all lived close enough to come! (if you are close, email me.)

Lately Honor has taken to dragging his cars everywhere. First he was keeping them in an old wipe box, and then my mom gave him a lime green bag to keep them in. The bag goes everywhere. He had quite the broken heart the other night when his daddy didn’t let him sleep with Every. Single. Car. He. Owns. He’s even taken to stashing some in his pillow case, on the off chance we don’t find them.

Really this is a good thing. We bought him most of these cars a year ago in hopes that we could find some sort of toy he’d play with. He sure plays with them now. Plus I told Jim to look on the bright side, at least he’s not wanting to sleep with Edens baby any more.

Honor has been cracking me up so much lately with his word combinations. Once in awhile he’ll bust out a word that just makes me pause for a second, like tattoo (that’s what I get for letting him watch Miami Ink.) He’s been very quick to let me know if he doesn’t want something, “No want.” And very quick to let me know if he wants to be held, “Hold it.” He came to me the other day holding a raw egg (yes the boy can reach the counter now) saying, “Cook it. Egg. Cook it. Egg.”

But the best part of this talking stage is teaching him to say “I love you.” Even when you tell them to say it, there’s something about it that melts your heart.
So I tell Honor, say “I”
Honor: “I”
me: “love”
Honor: “you”

It’s just the sweetest thing. So now he tells me, “I you.”

And the best part, Eden is always asking me to “say the words”. So I scoop her up and we say the words together, and then Honor wants to say the words. Yep, I did good, my kids are asking to tell me they love me.

Monday night I went through every article of clothing we own, including every article of clothing the kids have ever worn. A friend of a friend’s dad is driving a big load to a church in Louisiana. I’m so grateful for the opportunity to give. At first Eden was a little disturbed by the fact that I was giving away all our clothes. “You’re giving away my dresses!” I was a little worried about how I was going to teach her compassion. It was difficult to explain to her what’s been going on in the other side of the country, but I think she finally understood that other little girls over there don’t have any dresses at all, let alone a bed to sleep in.

I explained to her that I wasn’t giving away any of her clothes that still fit, just ones that she doesn’t wear anymore – she seemed to be relieved by this. But I told her that she can give away something that she still wears if she wants. She decided to donate her blue butterfly shirt – totally on her own – and went and got it out of her drawer. She wanted to go with me to give it to the little girls who don’t have anything anymore. It’s moments like these when your heart swells with such pride, that you don’t even know what to say.

This is why we parent, to teach our kids compassion and grace, to care for others who have nothing. We have the responsibility to train them to be good people, it’s nice to see that we can be successful.

PS: Everyone MUST read this email written by a woman who volunteered in Austin, Texas with the evacuees.

While waiting in the car –

Eden: “I want to go into the store with daddy.”

Me: “Sorry sweetie, you can’t go into the liquor store.”

Eden: “Because they might lick me?”

So, this weekend when we were watching a tivo’d episode of Star Trek the Next Generation (NERDS!), Eden was sweetly coloring on a coloring book and Honor was sweetly coloring the ENTIRE HOUSE. I knew when we picked up that pack of crayons at evil Walmart for $.10 that I should spend the extra money and buy washable crayons. But they were ten cents, I figured it would be ok. A calculated risk. A stupid risk.

So we were watching Star Trek, learning about things like subspace fields and deflector dishes when we realized that Honor was strangely quiet. Jim went to investigate. The pictures didn’t turn out, but he found the entire surface of the kitchen decorated in hues of blue and green artistic scribbles. We’re talking, everything at Honor height, the stove, the fridge, the dishwasher, the walls, the cabinets. Later we found that he took a trip down stairs and decorated on his way down. He even got Eden’s turd computer monitor.

It was SO our fault. See, I think the problem is that we’re expecting him to be like Eden, and he’s just not. It would be nice, but he’s just not. It is absolutely against he nature to stay out of trouble. Honor will just always be… ornery. I need to just keep that in mind and come running whenever he’s not in my sight.

All I have to say is, I’m buying stock in the magic sponge. It got every speck of crayon off. That and I’m going to install a tracking beacon in Honor, so I can always locate him. Tracking beacon, another thing I learned from Star Trek.

I’ve always been amazed by how well advertising effects kids. Eden will watch a commercial one time and be talking about how she wants a Sky Dancer for the next month. As our business becomes more of a marketing company, we’re realizing that traditional forms of advertising are becoming less and less effective. But the one market that will always be susceptible to traditional advertising is children.

Which leads me to my little kiddos. They are, already, children of the 21st century. Eden can recognize most fast food restaurants from a mile away, especially “The Ice Cream Store” (Dairy Queen), My mom is proud… and probably at fault. Even Honor knows Taco Bell, honestly, we don’t eat there THAT much. The other day, as we drove past Taco Bell, he said, “See it! Taco Bell!”

They can point out most technology, Honor sees my iPod and says, “mama, iPod’ (emphasis on the “d”). Eden can work the TV and she’s always telling me to “record it.” Recently Eden has taken to playing a Dora Matching Game on the computer. Now every single time one of us is on the computer she asks, “Can I play the Dora Dame?” There’s only so many times you can click on little cards and watch them flip over to reveal swiper before you get bored, so I thought I’d let her try and play herself. She’s perfect with a mouse. She’s only 3 years old! So she now has her very own computer (a turd slow Apple running 9.1) with Dora set to the home page. And while Honor enjoys clicking on “his” mouse, he’s much rather be destroying a computer. No amount of cool technology can keep destruct-o-con down.

Honor usually wakes up and yells “WAKE.” But this morning I was a little slow to get him out of bed and instead of yelling “WAKE” he was crying, “No want night night, no want night night.”