Open Letter Friday & Completely Unrelated Picture

My first official open letter, I dedicate to my sister. 

Dear Kristin,

Can you please get your dog, Duke, to stop humping inanimate objects? It makes me feel uncomfortable. It also puts me in an awkward situation when my kids ask, "Mom, why is Duke shaking his bum on the chair... table... shoe... your leg... Eden... that Elmo toy?"

It's not cute. It's not funny.  Well, maybe just a little bit funny, but still... you can only watch a dog try to do the naughty with a stuffed animal so many times before it begins to lose its thrill.

So I think it's time to take away Dukes dog-hood or at least lock him up when we're at your house until Eden is old enough to defend herself.

Thank you so much for your consideration on this fragile subject matter.

Sincerely, your sister,
Ginnie

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• I know I have 3 other kids, but they're just not quite as fun to take pictures of right now •

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Keeping my baby 'the baby'

She's getting too old for a bottle. I realize that. 

But you should see how excited she gets when I hand it to her. 

And who am I to deny cuteness such as this?

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Competitive by Nature

The majority of my morning was spent debating with my sister, Kristin, about who had the messiest house.
Since I went over my cell phone minutes last month ($120 worth... ouch!)  this conversation took place via texting. We were sending pictures back and forth of each room in our house titling each picture as 

"The kitchen mess" 

"The laundry room mess"  

"The neglected-corner-in-my-room mess"

We even sent pictures to each other to prove who matched their nasty house the most. It wasn't pretty.

Meanwhile, my silent destroyer was on the move. I found her fully enthralled in the the bathroom and giddy with excitement pouring out cupfuls and cupfuls... and cupfuls of toilet water all over the bathroom. And if that wasn't enough, she had given all the kids toothbrushes and dog toys a bath in the toilet.

It was a special moment for me.

I ended the texting debate with this last picture titled, 

"My walking mess"

I think I win.

Messy house update: 5 hours later both of our homes are in the same disastrous state they started out in.

On the upside, we have managed to carry on an intense game of Words with Friends throughout the day.

And just for the record, I'm winning that too.

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Let's pretend I posted this a month ago

(because that's when I actually started writing this)

Picture from last September- canyoneering in Zion's

Do you ever feel like your going crazy? 

Not party-like-it's-1999 crazy or ... wearing-socks-with-sandles crazy.

but, like backwards-speaking, head-spinning, projectile-vomiting crazy.

Maybe I'm possessed. Maybe I've had one too many candy cane chocolate coated almonds. Or maybe, it's the fact that my van broke down and I will be van-less for the next week. Which means going anywhere as a family of 6 will be impossible. So in order to resolve this little problem we will vote off one member of our family for the week. Imagine something similar to survivor, except you don't get voted off the island... just the car. I'm hoping it will give the kids incentive to be especially good this week. 

Fast forward 6 days. The van is fixed and I go to pick it up. The mechanic looks at me and says, "I'm amazed this van didn't blow up on you.". I thought he was kidding. He wasn't. 

This was my loving text to Nate: 

Just picked up the car from the mechanic. He told me that we were lucky the car didn't blow us up. That's comforting. 

2 minutes later I sent another text: 

Dear Ginnie, I love you, but not enough to buy you a new van- one that won't blow up while you and the kids are driving in it. Sincerely, Nate 

5 minutes later this was Nate's reply:  

Dear Nate, Thanks so much for all you do for me and our family. I know you are working hard for us and it's okay, I can be patient and keep driving this old van until we can buy another one. I love you so much! 

Ginnie 

1 minute later from me: 

Wow, I'm incredibly sweet! 

Another minute later from Nate: 

I know. That's why I married you. 

There are two things I'm am sure of, 

1. Married life would be better if we just did the talking for our spouses.

2. Three things could possibly survive an atomic bomb: cockroaches, a McDonald's cheeseburger, and my minivan.

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