Seven Year Olds are LOUD

This past Sunday afternoon, we had John's seven year old birthday party at a local place called Stomping Grounds. (Think McDonald's playscape on crack.) It was a relatively small group of boys – only about 10 total – but my oh my were they loud. We were the last party of the day so the place had mostly cleared out by then tail end of our party. It wasn't until the kids were stuffing their faces with pizza and cake that I realized that the deafening roar we had all been enjoying just moments earlier had subsided. It dawned on me that our 10 kids had been comprising the better part of that roar. Good heavens. I cautioned James that while the boys yelled, whooped and hollered, little girls shriek. Loudly. In very high pitches. He looked scared.

Here is a sampling of the party…





I have been getting some requests for updated pics of Scooby, so below are a couple new ones of him. He's nearly 70 pounds and still growing… albeit, not as rapidly. He's a handful and a discipline nightmare. We are working on it, but suffice it to say that a rambunctious, awkward, 70 pound puppy is a lot of work. And by a lot, I mean full time job. On Dec. 20, we had Scooby's "manhood" removed in hopes of slowing him down a tad. It didn't. In fact, only three things have changed; he eats more ravenously now than before, my Dad now refers to him as "Scoobette", and his flatulence is now officially unbearable. I mean toxic, noxious, deadly unbearable. The vet says we have a good six-month wait before we see any slow down from the surgery. Lovely. I frequently tell Scooby the same thing I used to tell John when he was wailing from colic… "It's a good thing you're cute!" (And Scooby IS cute!)



Lastly, I leave you with a sweet pic of John and James on a lazy Sunday afternoon and an adorable shot of my sweet niece, Allie.