Friday, December 18, 2009

Farewell to the cowboy state!

I'm high on Sharpie fumes from all the packing, so this may be nothing but photos, but here is the last Wyoming blog. I know when speaking of Wyoming, I tend to get snarky, but I'll behave myself today and just show you some of my favorite parts of the last 18 months here in Cheyenne. It's a beautiful place, full of beautiful people, and we had a great time with our Wyoming Experiment!

This is Devil's Tower, and one of our favorite places and trips we took.



Old Faithful...thar she blows!





Yellowstone National Park. Uh, obviously. In case you can't read. But then you wouldn't be here.




This was in April...oh wait, I said no snarkiness. Maybe she's looking for Easter eggs?




Ok this dog lives on the roof here in Cheyenne. In all kinds of weather. He's up there.




Nothing really to do with Wyoming, but here is Gianni at the age of just barely two, after he made himself toast. Literally made it himself. 1. Took the bread out of the box. 2. Carried across the kitchen to the toaster. 3. Toasted it. 4. Buttered it with knife. 5. Got a plate. 6. Ate it. Don't forget this all involved being much shorter than the counter.




Our favorite neighbor in the history of neighbors: Lillie-Ann. We're sticking her in a box with airholes.





Close-up of doggy. Almost had Anna convinced it was a reindeer last year.







This is outside our church building.








Know what this is? Well, do you? Don't feel bad, neither did I. It's for hanging up your cowboy hats of course.









Again, not really anything to do with Wyoming, but here is Gianni potty training his stuffed gorilla.









The best part of being a girl is the sleep overs. The best part of the girls being of a certain age, is that Mommy and Daddy can go to bed at a decent hour and they can pop their own corn, take themselves to the bathroom, find their own sleeping space, work the tv by themselves, and generally stay up all night unsupervised. Unless their parents are reading this, in which case, they were never unsupervised.





Well, in a nutshell, and without photos of the cool windmill farms, uber cool thunder and lightening storms that you can see coming from miles and miles and miles away due to there being no pesky mountains in the way, and other great things about Wyoming, that was our year in the cowboy state. Thanks for reading, guys. I'll be back someday.









Tuesday, December 8, 2009

A week in the life of two two-year olds

Hey, Fat Luigi!





Hey, Skinny Vinny!







We're going...









....into the belly of the beast....




...there will be danger at every turn....






...I eat danger for breakfast...





Then ... are you hungry?







Starving...











I now have an inkling of what having two-year old twin boys would be like. (Any readers out there who actually have two-year old twin boys, please don't write and tell me I don't have a clue. I admit it daily). The Quinnster was pretty much an angel and his best friend, Moose, was well, he was himself and you only need to look at the fact that he is the only one with red-eye to know that he was basically leading Quinn into sin at every turn. He doesn't have much hair but he has just enough to nicely cover his horns. Quinn's mommy and daddy hoped as an experienced mother of three that I would manage to teach their little darling how to speak three languages, read Dostoievsky, be potty trained, increase his culinary palate, help little old ladies across the street, memorize scripture, tie his shoes, discover the cure for cancer, institute world peace, and make a mean risotto. They're lucky however if he hasn't learned to smoke, swear, imbibe, gamble, womanize, and drive. He now wears tight jeans, white Ts with rolled up sleeves to hide the cigarettes, and greases his hair. And goes by the name Butch. At least they didn't sneak out for tattoos and piercings while my back was turned, huh? And really, that's all I promised. That, and that he will return with a new passion for Bon Jovi, Sandra Boynton board books, naked vacuuming (ask Gianni 'bout that one), jumping off the couch, finagling in and outta the Pack n Play, carrying a stool around at all times because it comes in handy for numerous naughtiness, removing couch cushions for optimum jumping and bouncing contests, the joy of dog food snacking, and hiding things in the potty seat. Not necessarily in that order. Gianni calls him "Ken" (no, not Butch), and it would have been cute and amusing to hear G. yelling through the bedroom door, 'Mommy! Daddy! Ken's awake!' Cute and amusing had it not been 4 am. But we're very grateful for our time with the little booger, and hope he doesn't forget about his Auntie Lyssy and Uncie Mike and the strange little boy who kept slamming doors in his face and taking all the toys, when he moves off to Ireland to become a leprechaun.
We begin the packing process now. Wish us luck, say a prayer or a hail Mary or anything that might help. I hate moving. And I really hate the nightmare of driving across frozen solid Wyoming in December twice. When we go rolling off the interstate, into the path of penguins, polar bears, and prehistoric ice age creatures, and run into the same iceberg that annihilated the Titanic, I will put in a good word for you at the pearly gates. You may divide my worldly possessions amongst yourselves: children, dog, fish, Kitchen Aid mixer, Samsung washer and dryer, and my Nancy Drew collection. Oh, and Die Hard 1-4 complete with extra bonus material. And bills. Some lucky devil is going to get lots and lots of bills. Unless of course, all those things are smashed flat by the ice berg. In which case there will be nothing to fight over at the funeral - and for your information, I like daisies.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Anniversary Hijack!!!

That's right... Melyssa's tech savvy husband has siezed control of the blog(and changed the password) as a celebration of both my nearly limitless power, and our 11th wedding anniversary.




So let's all take a trip down memory lane shall we?...




I Love this one for three reasons. First she wore those coveralls everywhere!!! (Hillbilly).
Second, how secure does she look in her decision to go through with this?

Third, do you SEE the gun show going on in background...???

Play this if you LOVE Mariah as much as I do!!!

Now, who WOULDN'T want to be permanently attached to these women???



At this point, I was about to cry... so was Dave... Still looks scared... If she only knew!!!
Ok, this was ILLEGAL!!! She's only 20! We got kicked out of the casinos at Lake Tahoe on our honeymoon as well.



The whole Fam Damily!!! Hey it's uncle Vinny on the right, yeah be afraid...


So 11 years ago I got married. Me. Mike Williams. I still can't believe it, I'm sure most of those reading this can't believe it either!!! I can honestly tell all, that I am more in love today than ever before. I have all I could ever want, need, or desire with Lyssa by my side...


I love you forever Baby.