Alright, Sports fans!

When I was growing up, my Grandma Jean would clap her hands together loudly and proclaim, "Alright, Sports fans!" She used it as a very good method of claiming attention. I don't know why that spontaneous childhood memory sprang up from the recesses of my mind just now, but I'm glad it did. It's unplugged a whole slew of memories from visiting Overton as a kid and I am swimming in gleeful nostalgia.
 Speaking of childhood memories, Noah was creating a few yesterday that I was determined to capture on film in case he forgot them. It's been one of those goofy mom-dreams that I have for Noah to "mow the lawn" with daddy. What I mean by that is...well, here, just see for yourself, silly readers!

   Noah was given a toy mower for his second birthday. The instant he opened it, visions of Stephan and Noah toiling away at yard work in adorable synchronization danced in my head. The first time Stephan dragged out the mower to have at the front lawn, I sent Noah after him with his own bubble-blowing mower. It didn't go so well. The roar of Daddy's machine sent Noah right back to me. I was afraid that my dream for an adorable photo opportunity would never come true.
  Then, cut to yesterday. Stephan had to mow the back jungle yard, so Noah and I went outside to cheer him on. As Stephan was bravely attacking the grass with his big-boy mower, I remembered Noah's mower and ran inside to grab it and the camera. Soon as he saw his mower, Noah snatched it from my hands and set to helping Daddy tame his wild play grounds. (Besides the picture, I got three or so videos of Noah "mowing", but after reviewing them, I decided to leave them off of the blog, as they were the kind of videos that mommy thinks are adorable and to be treasured but everyone else knows they're pretty boring.) Anyways, after successfully returning our back yard to playing order, the boys parked their mighty machines and called it an evening.

Daddy's doesn't blow bubbles. lame!

In Witten news; Mommy was horrible and completely forgot to let anyone in the family know that Witten was to be dedicated to the church this past Sunday. I only remembered because the church was kind enough to call Stephan the Saturday before and remind him of the upcoming baby dedication. So, yesterday, Witten was dedicated publicly to God and to His church. He was his usual adorable self until right when I carried him into the sanctuary. Then he seemed to realize that he was tired and decided to be cranky. (Ain't that always the way?)
  Today, after a happy, cheerful Witten morning, baby boy was inconsolable for some reason. I just happened to take a peek at his gums and saw two widdle biddy white dots where two widdle biddy teefers are trying to poke through. NO! My baby is already sprouting TEETH! What?? When?? How?? Where the heck has time run off to? My little boy, whom I often times still think of as being born last week or so, is rolling over, eating baby cereal, trying to sit up, and teething! I really might start crying If I ponder this amazing and tragically unstoppable progression of time for too long, so I refuse to allow myself to ride that train of thought any longer.

I'm to adorable to grow up!

   Well, readers, to wrap up (as I am hungry and wish to eat), I will say this: it's a darn good thing I know so many pregnant people right. I'll just get my newborn fix from their babies for the next two years or so until it's time for Stephan and I to have another one of our own. For now, I'll continue to thank God everyday for the life and the two precious sons He has blessed me with. Thank You, God!