A Visit From the H-men (part 1)

People don't come to see us very often. They're always saying that they're going to- they ask us if we're doing anything on this date or mention in a conversation that they were thinking about flying out during that week, but- they never do. The last time we had out of town guests, was in December 2009. ...and we can't really blame people, because we are kind of way out here in the middle of nowhere.

But nobody came when Evelyn was born.
And nobody came after Evelyn was born.

And it was really kind of depressing. Especially when we see that the same people who said that they were going to come, at one time or another, go other places instead.

But again. We are pretty far off the beaten path, and can't let our hearts get too sore over our lack of company. We understand. We don't' like it, but, we understand.

Finally though, somebody said they were coming, and then they actually came!



Somewhere around ten pm on Wednesday night, Christopher's Dad, Brother, and Brother's girlfriend, walked into our home just in time for freshly made chocolate chip cookies. I didn't want the house to smell like diapers, and I needed something to keep my impatience at bay.

Josh and Crystl went down to Ventura to meet up with Grandpa Dave, and then they all flew to Dallas, and drove from there to Abilene.

The first ones to meet Miss Evelyn.

The older two were asleep when they arrived, so they didn't get to meet them until the next morning. Which was nice, it gave us all a chance to greet each other, snack on cookies, and play a game or two of wii, before heading to bed.



It was so nice to see Dave holding the baby. She wasn't quite sure of who he was, or why someone other than Mommy was holding her, but she didn't cry or fuss (not then, at least), she just kinda went with it.

And he seemed to enjoy it quite a bit as well. When you go from living on a boat by yourself, to holding a 7 month old in a faraway state, its got to be a little bit awkward, but- it was a nice change for the both of them.



The cat insists that anyone thats here, is here visiting her. So while Christopher and Josh started making an avatar for wii sword fighting (or whatever it was that they ended up playing), Bomber got as many good pets out of Crystl as she could.



They were tired, from their journeys. It was obvious. Yet nobody wanted to go to sleep, because what fun is that? First one to turn in is a rotten egg.

Alright so we didn't end up staying up too late, the excitement wore off quickly, once we started passing around yawns.


The next morning sure was interesting. Eleanore spent the first half and hour hiding from everyone, crouching under baby bouncers, leaning behind Daddy's legs. Charlie seemed to warm up to everyone extremely quickly, which was the opposite of how he used to handle unfamiliar faces (we welcomed this change of character). And Evelyn, as seen in the pictures above, got along with everyone just fine.

We made a big breakfast of potatoes, pancakes, bacon and eggs, and then later on in the day, went down to Christopher's work for a tour, and then played around by the airplanes.



The boys walked around the planes, talking engines and wings, while us girls (and Charlie) played in the shade of a B-52, occasionally ducking from a hornet as it doubled checked us out to make sure we weren't packing pollen.

It wasn't really my thing, ya know? I just kinda stood back and observed most of it through my lens, capturing it on record for everyone else, the way that I typically do, and the way that I'd wish someone would do for me.

I did however, have to dive in and check inside of little mouths, looking for broken teeth, after a nose dive or two off of the tip of a bomb. I've still got the green and brown bruised shins to prove my loyalty.



It didn't take long for the baby to start getting hungry, and the hornets became more unfriendly by the minute.

We hopped into our cars and headed for home.

To Be Continued...

750th post, babies not sleeping, and red hair.

While I want to write chapters and chapters about the babies getting to spend the past weekend with some of their never before seen family, I have yet to upload pictures and get them into tip top shape.

Its 9:00 at night. The house should be quiet, but rather than silence, I hear the older two upstairs, alternating between fighting and giggling, taking advantage of the freedom that they have in their newly shared bedroom. The baby is just now snuggling up with her Giraffey (in my lap, rather than her crib), after half an hour of solid red faced screaming (tummy troubles for the both of us tonight).

So instead of the long adventure filled loaded-with-pictures post that I was planning on putting together this evening, I'm going to just share with you a picture of my freshly colored red hair.

Because my roots were Eminem miles long and the hue had faded into an awful shade of dark rust.

Lovin' Kitty Bomber.
I always wait way too long between cut and colors. Going to the hair salon isn't exactly top priority when you spend most of your time rockin' the bermuda sweat shorts and bangs under bandana look.

The first couple of days afterwards though, I always feel like a new woman. Like "hmm, maybe I could wear makeup everyday. Maybe I could get dressed in real clothes on a Tuesday morning just for the heck of it".

...aaand then the baby yanks on my bobby pin hair flower, someone gets poop (or spitup, or both) on my white shirt, and then I end up crying for one reason or another, and have mascara running all the way from my neatly lined lower lashes down to my perfectly powdered chin.

Its worth it though. To go through my tri-monthly efforts, in order to feel pretty for a week or two, before the color starts to fade and the hair straightener gets put back into the cabinet under the bathroom sink. If nothing else, my husband gets a brand new wife for awhile, some saucy redhead in a cute floral print dress, and I get out of the house for a few hours, long enough for my hair stylist to massage my neglected scalp under warm running water with her awesome glitter tipped fingernails. Also, we discuss bad movies that trap songs in my head (Adventureland- Rock Me Amadeus), and declare Nick Jr. shows the most annoying ever.

Its 9:35. Eleanore and Charlie are finally asleep upstairs, probably half hanging out of their beds, and with the toys that they thought they were hiding scattered all over their floor or maybe still in their hands. I've tried to get up twice to put Evelyn in her bed, but she won't be set down, so instead shes lying in my arms while I type, sucking on her bink and pulling at the Hello Kitty silly band on my wrist. At least shes not crying anymore.



Thats what I really look like, by the way. All dolled up, and hanging out in my sweat pants. Even after my hair has been blow dried and I've put on mint eyeshadow... I really have no desire to put on uncomfortable clothes, or go anywhere to be seen. Instead I throw on my favorite pair of lazy pants that have somehow survived 3 pregnancies, and make ridiculous faces at myself in the mirror.

Oh life.

9:48. The baby is asleep in my arms. The bink fell out of her mouth and hit the ground. Do I dare try to move her into her crib?