to a lovely pediatrician, dictated by Jack and transcribed by his mom

I sent this in the mail today.  Hopefully, its intentions will be well-received.

Dear Dr. Woehling,

You asked me to write you a letter when I started going poop on the potty, and I did it!  I've gone ten times since I visited you!  I like Miralax because it makes my poop soft.  I did NOT like the enemas because they were like little drills.  Every time I poop, my Grandma takes me on an outing.  I even drew a picture of my poop for you. {unfortunately not included in this post.} Thank you for telling me lots of good ideas!  See you soon!

Love,

Jack Richards

mostly for the out-of-towners

Here are a few pics of us mosying around... nothing too exciting, especially considering my great lack of photography skills.  Grandparents and other adoring fans: feel free to look past that and enjoy the exquisitely dashing Richards clan.

sledding with Grandpa: could life get any better?

Here's what I woke up to one morning.  Never could I have imagined how priceless some 99-cent safari hats from Michael's could be.

This is Miss Caroline, pre-baldness.  Sure enough, she's losing hair by the hour!  We're holding our breath to see what comes in.  In the meantime, she's got some really cute veins on her head.

Ring-Around-the-Rosy with Grandma, aka Jack's fiance.  ("But Grandma, if I marry you, then I'll have TWO Grandma Richards!")

Happy 3-month Birthday, sweet Caroline!

This was supposed to be a perfect Valentines Morning photo op with the two boys kissing Caroline on her cheeks.  Sounds cute, right?  Jack, however, decided to let Froghead act as proxy for himself. Froghead doesn't like girls, I was informed, hence the distance from her.

Ah, the ExerSaucer!  A new phase begins, one in which my legs will now be clean shaven!

just a little amputation

For fear of this blog starting to sound like a bag-on-Nate forum, let me be clear:  he is a wonderful, compassionate physician, an awesome dad, and the only man on earth that could ever put up with all my antics.

That being said, I must chronicle our little twenty-second conversation this afternoon:

Nate: "Babe, let me call you back in a sec.  I'm just scrubbing in for a quick little amputation."

Me:  "A quick little WHAT?"

Nate: "Oh, just this old guy's foot.  It'll be quick, I promise."

And for once, I was the one who was speechless, even past the point of monosyllabic grunts.  

is this normal?

So, I just realized I had a complete, 10-minute, expressive, animated, and heartfelt conversation with my husband, who uttered two monosyllabic grunts. He then found great pleasure in mocking me. Hhhmmm.