Morning, Sunshine

For your viewing pleasure.

LOL

I really needed a laugh this week, and I found it yesterday in the Salt Lake Tribune:

Nothing Stolen from Lohan

A burglar alarm led police to Lindsay Lohan's house on Tuesday, where officers found evidence of a potential break-in and ransacking. Turns out, the mess belonged to Lohan, not the burglars, police said. Police determined no one entered the home and nothing was stolen.

I'm still laughing.

Peekaboo!

Peekaboo Photos, that is. I have been holding out on you by not posting these sooner. Katie did an amazing job with Gabe's newborn photos and family photos. Here are some of my favorites.

Rock-a-bye Baby

I have been feeling sentimental lately; I suppose it is having a new baby in our home. When I was growing up my mom had a saying on the wall in the baby's room that I remember and loved. I recently asked a friend to make the saying into a picture for my nursery. I wanted to make sure I had the words right so I looked it up on the internet and found that it is actually the last stanza of a longer poem. Here it is; I think you will love it as much as I do.

Happy mother's day!

Song for a Fifth Child

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing and butter the bread,
Sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I've grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(lullaby, rock-a-bye, Lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(pat-a-cake, darling, and peek-peek-a-boo).
The shopping is not done and there's nothing for stew
And out in the yard there is a hullabaloo.
But I'm playing "Kanga" and this is my "Roo."
Look! Aren't his eyes the most wonderful hue?
(lullaby, rock-a-bye, lullaby loo).

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
For children grow up, as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.

Ruth Hulburt Hamilton, 1958

The Haircut

Before.


After.


The culprit and his victim.

Yes, that is a bag of hair.



The fix.






Who is this big kid?