Clean House For Baby

Owen and I are trying to get the house clean for the new baby. Mama is exhausted and ready for this baby to come. We have decided that we still do not have a name... we are open to suggestions. We are quite ready for the new baby to join us! This week has been filled with anticipation as we looking forward to this blessed event! Pray for us.

Owen's Conspiracy

He may look as though he is studying the Martyn Lloyd Jones section of my library, but is actually deviously learning how to have the house to himself....
Today as Lydia and Anna were heading out of the door to Mrs. Birn's baby-shower there was a terrible event. Lydia and Anna were outside and Lydia asked me to come out and wipe off the snow from the vehicle (it seems that wearing Birkenstocks in the middle of February is not always the best of ideas).

I was more or less than happy to do this for her and I got the broom out of the kitchen closet. I told Owen that I would be right back and I closed the door on him (so he did not get his feet snowy). I could hear him knocking and being annoyed that his entire family was out-of-doors while he was stuck inside with the dogs.

I finished wiping the car off and Lydia pulled out of the driveway. I walked up the steps to the front door to the dreadful fact that Owen had locked the door! I turned around, knowing that I did not have my keys and that all other doors were locked, and yelled to Lydia as she waved and drove off!

I yelled, 'Lydia stop!' very loud as she drove away. I made a fool of myself waving and yelling as she drove north on Union Avenue. As she passed the Notliberal compound she must have noticed her over-sized husband doing aerobics in the snow (in his pajamas, mind you). She turned around and pulled into the driveway.

I told her that Owen had locked me out. She responded that he does not know how to do that. Oh, it must have been one of the dogs then. Well, whomever it was, I got back into the house and Owen was crying because he was scared. He is not used to his large father jumping up and down while yelling in the front yard... in his pajamas, mind you.

All was well and Owen and I did some father and son things while Lydia and Anna were away. We cleaned all of the vents in the house and a good time was had by all.

Five months on Black Friday!

Today you are, may I lovingly say, a mistaken readerhood. You all thought that today was Black Friday, the day in which large women with hair weaves are trampled underfoot at Walmart. Little did you know that it is actually the day in which we celebrate Owen's fifth month of postgestational life! Yeah for Owen.

Of course, we thought that we would celebrate with a blog post full of drool-filled love. We also had a little discussion about the rampant consumerism and commercialism that is Black Friday, and we thought of a few commercial ideas as well.
Owen said that when he is six months old he wants to do the Quizno's commercials. He is sure that he has the roughian look that the company finds to be so marketable.
He also said that he would give his chance at some modeling. Here he is trying to look quite serious. He told me that he was going to send this in with his portfolio to some cologne companies. I told him that this may not be lawful gain, and we would discuss it when he is seven months.
Anna said to him, "O-O, you are staying right here with me. We want to live with Papa and Mama forever!"
They really love each other a lot. Anna thought that maybe they could do radio instead. She suggested NPR, Owen suggested Wood 1300.
I said, I would choose Wood 1300 as well Owen! I gave him a big hug for his thoughts.
They were both happy with the choice that I, their father, made for them. They would stay right here with us and not work until they are of age.
Lydia was obviously happy with that decision as well. Anna raised a hand in praise due to not having to be forced into child labor.
Owen reminded her that if it was not for child labor those people at Walmart would never have been trampled under foot. So much for a good deal on Black Friday with that on your conscience.