Boys.

You can't pick your kids friends. But I would love if River happened to be friends with Rowan some day. I am sure they would have lots of belly laughs together. Just like we do with his parents. Daryn's laugh is one you can't forget. Loud and genuine. Jacinda laughs at Daryn, laughs at me, laughs often. When a quad launches off a cliff by accident. When her daughter pulls a fire alarm. And I laugh too. When thing are so outrageous that what else is there to do but laugh. I love this family. Shared laughter is just one reason. And I hope our children can have that too sometime. That would be swell :)

TACTILE

So I've been hearing from Chris for ages how he doesn't like food because of the "texture." Creamy sauces. He likes pineapple now but ONLY Cold, not hot, after over a decade of telling me pineapple was akin to poison to him. This is a man who would not eat a tomato, a sweet potatoe casserole, a cabbage roll. Milk?..... while i might as well have tried to convince him that paint thinner was good for him...and the list goes on..... My dear husband has greatly widened his palate. I must give him credit. But to me most of this game is mental. I won't eat fruit on a salad, for example is hocus pocus... I like fruit. I like salad. But put them together and I gag? This comes from a childhood of being served separate meals and having pickiness be allowed. Or is it?

I have seriously come to question my stance on picky eaters watching my 9 month old eat food. I was hoping he'd take after me in this department but I'm not so sure. While I watch other kids his age muck around with their food, River is different. While he's mastered the pincer grasp these days, he is very selective with what he will put in his mouth. He will gladly eat as many dry cheerios as I put in front of him. Cheese makes the cut. Fruit that is dry like a non-mushy banana or a raspberry he can't get enough of. But lately some of his favorites are just not acceptable. A slimy mandarin piece. ewww. A noodle? Yuk. With a disgusted look on his face He picks up mushy things only to throw them on the floor where they belong! And there is no tricking this kid. He can tell the texture faster than his little brain can process it. Yogurt on its own. Please. Feed me. Raspberries and blueberries and pineapple. MMMM.. But try to mix fruit in the yogurt and my tongue will drop that fruit faster than you can blink! Same goes for hunks of meat! That gag reflex works to well. "You want me to eat my meat then you better make it feel like mashed potatoes!" Wieners. Ok. Grilled Cheese Sandwiches Ok. Slimy rice with veggies. Don't even think about it!

This kid is all about the "feel of things" lately. He goes around and finds soft things and bend and flexes in half rubbing is cheek and head back and forth. So flexible. A rug, a blankie, a teddy bear, the cat....finally touching the feel books. "he's so tactile" according to grandma. I couldn't agree more. A phase... maybe. But I just might be on my way to realizing that Popplewell's like things the way they like them... OK!!!!

Family Time

We just love our time at the cabin. There is something cozy about the lake in the winter. We almost feel like we let out a huge sigh of all our stress of life when we walk in the door. Then we have days of pure relaxation and quality time that isn't as easy to attain in the city. No phone ringing, no computer, no bustling city to temp us. Its just quiet. and its just us.

Peaking in on River loving his mobile

Product Review

Ever walk by something on the shelves of the grocery store you've never tried and thought, "I'll give it a shot, that looks good?" Well I'm here to save someone that trouble. If you see Kashi granola bars.... look in the other direction. While tasting like a good blend of poo and card board, this product receives a great big two thumbs down. All three were a good amount of awful... but the trail mix topped the charts of disgusting. Stick to Nature Valley or any other of the granola bar family.

December 5th

December 5th came and went this year. It was a cold wintery day at the lake, and then a quiet drive home that had us remembering Randy. Four years ago Chris lost his father, I lost my father-in-law. Losing someone is something. Having it be your dad is something else. The person that made you, held you the day you were born, took you to hockey, taught you to fix your car, cheered for you, gave you advice. The other side of the "your parents" equation, the person you expect will grow old along side your mom. It is no small thing. Having it happen so suddenly robs you of even comprehending what you are really losing. Immediately anyways. It leaves you feeling unprepared to handle it, to carry on. That makes it so hard. Unfair. And it keeps little reminders coming back to you of what life was like when he was here, and what it may have been like if he still was.

That day, that drive and that night in bed I lay awake remembering. I had seven years of knowing a great man. I had the privilege of seeing the dad my husband looked up to. Seeing where he got so much of who he is from. Memories fade despite every effort you make to hold onto them. But a flash of Randy's face I can always see. His warm smile. Its etched in a very close and accessible place. I can take that face off the shelf in my mind any time. And I do. That handle bar mustache is always right there.

I remember a man that worked so hard. So hard he found it hard to slow down. I married his son that is so much the same and he tries hard to keep a slower pace every day because of it. I'll remember the weekends he was home, a computer always very close at hand. And I'll remember his wind pants. O did I love it when he would relax and wear wind pants. I loved when he wore shorts and a cut off t-shirt and sandals and sat on a lawn chair at the cabin. A german shepherd and a smiling wife were near by.

I remember how important it was for my husband to spend time with his dad when he was home. Being a selfish teenager who wanted her boyfriend's time and attention all to herself, I was occasionally put out by this. But O how we cherish that time and those visits now. I am so grateful that we had that. How many suppers and lunches out as a family did we have. I couldn't believe the money spent on eating out. He always paid for me. I was always treated like a daughter. Even before I was. Those dollars could have been millions and they would seem like pennies now. It was money well spent. Saturday morning coffees at our place. Conversations around the kitchen table. I guarantee somewhere in there would be talk of a new gadget or cell phone :)

This family has been through hell and back. We really have. And maybe we aren't quite back yet. But we have come so far. Each and every one of us. Wow how life changes with time. Just 4 short years. I remember many thoughts about fleeing time from Randy. In his wranglers, his boots, a leather vest, a blazer coat. No tie. I wish I could hear your thoughts still. I have to believe you can still see us. You would be so proud of your daughter. I know you would. She is doing incredible things. For herself. And for others. She went to Africa. Can you believe it? And you would have another son getting married. I know you would be proud of the man he has become. I know you would be proud of his choice. I know you would love her. And you would have a grandson. His name is River Rande. After you. And we will be telling him all about you. You would be a grandpa. You could teach him so many things. You would see his smiling face and you would be so proud. You would see your son as a dad. And I know you couldn't be more proud of him. I am.

So another December 5th has passed. More tears have been cried. O how hard it is sometimes. Sometimes when my husband cries and just wishes he had his dad. I cry then. I often imagine my little boy losing his dad. Then I can begin to understand what my husband might be feeling. O how we wish we could change things. We wish we had you back. We wish we had more answers. But we carry on. We carry you with us. We love you.

I remember when I was broken hearted and you called me. You cared about me. You surprised me. You always seemed to see another side, a bigger picture, and had understanding. You were a mediator. A friend. A story teller. An example. You are missed.

Nothin Beats Us 3

Bath Time. A Happy Baby. A Warm Heart. Fun Times at Home as a Family. Nothin Beats It.

Where's the Kitty?

The favorite game around this house. "Where's the Kitty?" Hear her bell. Spot the kitty. Hyperventilate and crawl to catch the kitty. Grab, rip, bite, pull, and maul at her. Kitty moves 10 feet away. Chase her. Start all over. Kitty doesn't seem to mind much. Eventually Kodak has enough and runs up the stairs. So far this means safety. I have a feeling it won't be long.