Monday, November 16, 2009

Gut Check Time

This weekend, the weather here in Colorado asked the Little Hawks a question:
"How committed are you to running every single race in the Fall Series?"
Eli: "I see no reason for this running you speak of!"
Josh: "Is that snow and freezing temperatures I'll be running in? Hmm . . . not so much."

Emma and Hannah:

"We are SO in!!"
I am proud of you, my tough girls!

I'm not saying I understand what would possess a person to leave their warm jammies and run in freezing cold snow, but I really do admire your grit!

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Rocket Dog

"I'm not the man they think I am at home . . .

Oh no no no I'm a rocket man . . .
Rocket maaaannnn burning up his fuse up here alone . . . "


Monday, November 9, 2009


That's Much Better . . .

Now this is more like it! Our resident genius photographer has discovered that using a certain person's brother to make him laugh during photo shoots is a surefire way to banish the weird picture face!
Although he works hard to hold it in:

He's no match:

Alright folks, show's over.

What is cooler than wearing my snowboots everywhere?
Wearing my brother's . . .
Rugby: "Em, didn't Mom tell you not to wear your snowboots hiking?"

Saturday, November 7, 2009

B.D.E.

Best.Dog.
Ever. Ode To Rugby
Oh Rugby of the sweet golden eyes and soft fuzzy muzzle, you are the Best Dog Ever.
No gate or barrier is too heavy or secured so well that it cannot be knocked aside by your head - not because you are an idiot, as I've so often accused in a moment of baseless frustration, but because you are tenacious and crave my company always. When you bark incessantly at the neighbor's dog, it is because you are fastidious about securing your territory, and not because you are a stupid dog, as I've so often exclaimed in sleepy, early morning thoughtlessness! And when you curl your lip and refuse to return the friendly overtures of a sweet yellow Labrador Retriever, it's because you know that often looks can be deceiving, and trust no one who comes running uninvited toward your pack. And that time you ran away to nip at the haunches of that German Shepherd, what did he mean by running around in your field anyway? (He was bigger close up, wasn't he?)
You warm my feet, you make me laugh, you warm my heart.
You Are The Best Dog Ever.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Where Are The Boys??

Those of you familiar with my blog might be wondering where my two sons have gone. The title of the blog is still Four Little Hawks, yet the past few posts have featured only two of them.
Do they still live here?
Do we still love them?
Well, yes - and yes, we still love them very much indeed.
You see, the problem with posting pictures of the boys on the blog lately is just . . .
You know, it might be easier just to show you.
Lately, when Joel (aka the family photographer) asks the girls to model for him, you get lovely pictures like these:
Conversely, when you ask the boys to pose for a few shots, you get this:
And - Heaven save us - this:

Joshua insists that the 500 shots we have of the above "squinty face" cannot be helped, as he has light colored eyes that are sensitive to the sun. I would argue that he currently has two picture faces, "Squinty" and "Miserable", neither of which are nice to look at.
But Eli . . . oh Eli.
This is the boy with the million dollar, light up the world smile. Yet, you turn a camera on the boy and he assumes the expression of a brain addled lemur. In every picture. I'm convinced that when his future wife and children see pictures from his childhood, they will want to know when and how he recovered from his devastating brain injuries. No matter how many times I show him pictures of himself and try to explain that he should use his "real smile", this is what we get.
He actually had the nerve to act scandalized when I didn't want to order his school pictures this year, and demanded to know why. I don't know the sign for "brain addled lemur", so I just pointed to the proof and gave him the look.
He understood perfectly.

We Heart Snow Boots

Because they match perfectly with my spider hat . . .
And they make it easier for Daddy to catch me . . .
And they seem to say to the rest of the world, "Look at me! I'm an individual! Whether it's forty degrees outside or eighty, I'm gonna rock these snow boots, just because I can!"
I have recently discovered that there is no footwear quite so desirable as a heavy, hot pair of snow boots. I know this because every morning before school I find myself repeating the phrase,
"Take those snow boots off, your feet are going to roast!" to the general dejection of my daughters. I wonder what it is about them that makes them so fun - so worth exasperating your mother trying to sneak off to school in them? I think you have to be under the age of 10 to get it, so I'm not even going to try. I'm just going to sit back and enjoy my silly girls clomping around on a sunny day, bedecked in boots that, at least in Hannah's case - amount to half their body weight . . . and smile.