The Last of 2015

The girls' first-ever snowman. 

December always feels like a speeding school bus on fire going over a cliff.  Seriously.  The period of time from African American Friday to New Year's Eve lasts about as long as it takes me to take a crap.

(Considering I have a magazine, obviously.)

This stands in stark contrast with the Ohio months of the year - such as August and April - in which nothing of great consequence happens, and consequently they last FOREVER.  You can ascertain as much by going back into our Family Archives and seeing how many blog posts emanate from they respective months.  December gets, like, a dozen or so posts.  There might be two from August.

I've included some randoms from this once-tenth month of the year (study up on your Roman history, America), as usual.  Seeing how we had so much going on this month, you're left with kind of a bizarre sampling, but enjoy it nonetheless. . .

Kris trimming Watson's nails.  We bit the bullet and finally splurged on a top-rated set of nail clippers off of Amazon, as we had grown sick and tired of dropping $10 every few weeks to drive the dog across town to a groomer's.  It's a nerve-racking process, and Watson definitely loathes it, but Kris has only spilled blood on one occasion. 

Chris and Nicole's Christmas card this year.  They have a thing for cats.  And sweaters.

Going a few rounds with Abby, who has made an attempt lately at learning this. . .

(Shows some promise, but I think it's going to take awhile.)

My old roommates used to wear Viking hats and chug Bud Light out of 32 oz steins on a Tuesday evening.  This is what my new roommates do (somehow not as cool.)

It's the thought that counts, kids.

Abby demanded this note be taped up on the outside of the fireplace, where Santa could readily spot it Christmas Eve.  We're all a bit weirded out with this.

The Cannonball reads one of her new favorite books, Aesop's Fables, to a classroom of stuffed animals before going to bed.  What seven-year-old doesn't obsess over a 2800 year-old collection of anecdotes penned by a Greek slave?

Kris and her mom, Marcy, shortly before heading out to check out the girls' Christmas Nativity pageant at the First United Methodist Church in downtown Midland.

Dad's 62nd birthday fell on a Saturday this year, so Chris (and his dog, Tucker) hitched a ride up to Clare with us, meeting Jeff and his brood there.  Here's the two of them holding down the kid's table.

Tucker's pretty chill, but Watson and Bailey had to be removed from the communal space during dinner, as they're too wound-up and loud to be around people eating.

Alayna and Bradley enjoy some candy canes (and back talk) following an awesome Buccelli's dinner.

Craft beer and school spirit.

Hanging out with Nana

Three dogs, even in a big house, is just too damn much. . .

These kids love themselves some pinball. . . even though they're terrible at it.

FINALLY.  We went and saw Star Wars VII: The Force Awakens on December 20th: three days after opening night.  In order to play it safe during this time period, I disconnected myself from social media, the Internet, and my smartphone as a precaution, fearing the inevitability that some asshole out there in Cyberspace dropping unwanted spoilers when I was least expecting it.  Besides Yours Truly, Abby was probably the most excited member of our family to see it (we're Star Wars buddies), so she wrote this note on our front door for the whole neighborhood to see.  We ended up arriving at the theater an hour early, which Kris thought was overkill, but proved to be a very smart move:  there were eight people ahead of us, and shortly after we got there the line grew until it snaked out of the theater and around the side.  As a result of us showing up early, we ended up getting some of the best seats in the house for the movie, which, truth be told, was AWESOME.  But that's a whole other blog post itself, honestly, so I'll save that for another time. . .

Look what I found on Netflix the other day - Pee Wee's Playhouse Christmas Special.  I grew up with this on VHS, but Kris didn't think it'd be appropriate for the girls. . .

. . . who knows why.  What's not to like about a talking chair, Little Richard, Charo, the King of Cartoons, and the one and only Pee Wee Herman?  I mean, it's not like the guy that played Pee Wee ever did anything that society would deem 'inappropriate,' right?  Right, America?

Deer in headlights.

As you all know, Old Man Winter properly screwed us this year:  no White Christmas to speak of, but shortly after Christmas, we get this crap. . .

Sure, it's pretty. . . but shoveling this crap (especially when it's all wet and heavy like this snowfall was) is a pain in the ass (and back.) 

Here's hoping this snow business only sticks around for a month or so.  That's about the norm up here in Michigan, right?  Guys?

- Brian

Caesar's Randoms

Hey fans.

July was a crazy month, wasn't it?  We thought so.  We celebrated 'Murica Day, a few birthdays, reunited with the infamous Sausage Pad on the Muskegon River, reunited with all of our extended family up on Eight Point Lake, and basically got our feet wet with the whole 'Michigan Summer' thing.

Here's a brief look at some of the stuff that took place around these parts over the course of the last few weeks.

Enjoy:

Kris let the girls 'decorate the basement' for my 26th Birthday. . .

Watching Star Wars on VHS and enjoying a morning cup of coffee on my birthday (admit this is the greatest entertainment center you've ever seen. . .)

We decided to host the whole family at our house for dinner and drinks later in the afternoon/early evening, to show people the house, meet Chris' new girlfriend, Nicole, and otherwise celebrate my big 2-6.

Some store-bought (unhealthy) and homemade (extremely healthy) Asian food (we're big fans of ethnic foods in this joint.)

Hanging out with Cousin Owen (Jeff's son) - the sole heir to the Hough name (unless my kids grow a pair and demand to keep their last name when they get married.)

Messing with Scarlett (Jeff's oldest.)

Grandma and a bunch of Aryan children (technically they're Anglo-Saxon, but let's not split hairs, here.)

Getting ready for after-dinner shenanigans. . .

Introducing Scarlett to the joy of lightsaber dueling (you can never start them too young, obviously.)

(You're doing it wrong.)

Grandparents make the weirdest faces.

Uncle Chris takes a saber to the face.

My war injury from the Sausage Pad Tubing Adventure.  Still looking like pure shit.

This dog can't get enough of sleeping in the sun.  He gets it from me.

See my library, off the right, there?  That's about 1/3 of what I had a year ago: I purged half of my library last summer, when I brought home my classroom library from school (which was the same size as my library at home), then another load shortly after the Holidays.  Finally, I got rid of another four boxes worth of books (which was incredibly difficult to do, I'll point out), after carrying all of it down a flight of stairs.  For the next year, they'll remain boxed on those steel shelves, as I have no other place to put them.  I figure when it comes time to actually buy a house, I'll build a series of bookshelves built into our house, like we did in our old house.

She fell out of bed.  Please don't call CPS.

Checking out the ice cream joint around the corner from our house. . .

I hate giving my kids sugar in public - they always turn into a couple of assholes.

After years of hearing people call pop 'soda,' it has been incredibly refreshing to see signs like this wherever you go.

Twister is nowhere near as fun as it was when you were a kid.  At least for us out-of-shape sorts.

Abby plays Barbie Supermodel on my Sega Genesis.  

Don't piss off the Cannonball in Chess. . .

Abby's trying to learn how to play, but she doesn't have the logical inclination - or patience - like her sister does.  I think she's going to be more into stuff like 'sports' or 'drag racing.'

This process takes twenty minutes.  At least.

Find the dog.

How I've been spending my afternoons. . .

There was a big, block party for our immediate community towards the end of the month - something the locals have been doing for years, I guess.  They rent out a bunch of tables, everyone brings a dish, and people chow down and hang out.  We forgot all about this, so we came late as to not eat other people's food.  Tim and Julie - our neighbors directly across the street - showed up, and Tim pulled all the neighborhood kids in his homemade train (a series of painted barrels he pulls behind a riding lawn mower.)

This small park is sandwiched right in the heart of the block, so instead of people's backyards facing each other, they face a park. . . which is kinda cool.  Our house is a corner house, so unfortunately we don't have this luxury.

That's the girls' friend Reba pushing Alayna (she's Abby's age.)

Not a fan of the monkey bars. . .

One of the elder statesmen in the community brought a few coolers full of water balloons for the kids to play games with. . .

. . . which, quite predictably, ended in all-out chaos and anarchy.

Lord of the Flies

Alayna wanted no part of the water balloon fun, but Abby sure as hell did (no shocker there.)  Here she is sneaking up to drench her sister. . .

(. . . she's not very good at this.)

Once the kids ran out of ammunition, it was time for another 'train' ride (that's our kids, there, in the front.)

Walking the dog back across Midland's famous Tridge after checking out the Dog Park they have down there.  Watson was, as usual, more than happy to make a god-awful amount of noise playing with the other dogs down there.

After staying the night at Grandma and Papa John's, the girls were taken out to the 'Thumb' (Michigan-speak for a genuine, geographic region, believe it or not) to some random beach on Lake Huron for a day in the sun. . .

The kids were pleasantly surprised that the water wasn't salty. . . or filled with man-eating sharks, unlike the beaches they used to frequent in Florida.

I never saw the fun in this.

Making friends with random kids.

I guess they sculpted the Trash Heap from Fraggle Rock. . .?

Back to School shopping for Kindergarten and Second Grade. . . already.

One more month of Summer remains before we're free of having kids running around our house.  Let the countdown begin. . .

- Brian