Baby Monitor

So Jen and Nathan are living with us for the summer. It has been totally awesome to have them and their son Isaac here. But it has given rise to some potentially awkward moments around the house. Firstly, there is the fact that from the side if you squint and are standing on your head, I look slightly like Jenny and have almost, but not quite been mistaken for her by Nathan. Luckily, those mistakes are few and far in between. Adam hugged me once because he thought I was Marie. I guess I'm getting used to it. Thankfully, Katy has never once mistaken me for Aaron. Silly in-laws!

Once I was up in the middle of the night because I had to go to the bathroom. I never turn on the bathroom light in such cases because it is very bright and makes a loud "whirrr" noise that wakes one up more than one wants to be woken up. This particular night, I heard eerie noises and voices issuing from what seemed to be the bathroom walls. This happened a couple of nights, until I finally realized that the noises were coming from the vent on the floor, right above the basement where Nathan and Jenny are living. They were probably just up giving Isaac a feeding. Phew!

Lastly, there is the baby monitor. It sits conveniently up on our kitchen counter so Jenny can hear Isaac cry downstairs. Today while Michelle and I were in the kitchen, we heard some loud singing come over the monitor. We recognized Nathan's voice in a passionate rendition of "Hello, Jenny" in true Louis Armstrong style. Nathan loves singing songs and substituting his wife's name in for any portion of lyric that would fit. Example: "Jenny, oh Jenny, don't listen to them...how can they say they're your friends?" or "Oh, it's a jolly holiday with Jenny...Jenny makes your heart so light."

Don't you wish your significant other would do such things? :)

The Last Gallon

Today I woke up and headed to the kitchen for some breakfast before church. I'm not a huge fan of cereal, particularly because in my family, the good and sugary ones (lucky charms, cocoa puffs) are usually inhaled by the younger ones before you have time to get out a bowl and spoon. True to form, today's box of Apple Jacks was no more than a disappointing spread of crumbs with the occasional cereal fragment. Turns out that didn't really matter...when I opened up the fridge I came upon a gallon of milk covered with the ominous, black-sharpied message: "The Last Gallon!" I shuddered in horror. One gallon of milk. To get through the entire day.

My mom usually buys about 6 gallons of milk when she goes to the store. Do you know what it means when you only have one gallon of milk for the whole family? Bowls of cereal only half-full of milk and therefore an unpleasant mixture of soggy and bone-dry cheerios. That is not good.

Here we go!

Having come to the realization that our family is sadly underrepresented in the blogosphere, I'm experimenting with this blog. I figure we need to have a tangible record of the hilarious moments in this family that too often go untold. Also, this will be a great way for us college kids (that will be me in the fall...go cougars!) to have a way to connect with the goings-on at home. I know I'll be homesick!