Originally to be titled “Mason’s Balls”, I changed the title to not be so juvenile. Here is the picture to go along with my post this evening:
We had fun kicking around the soccer balls (in the house) this evening. Mason gets a big kick (hahahaha) out of playing with his balls.
It’s been a fun time around the Beesley house, I’m sure it has been around yours, too. Let me tell you how fun it is to work in the corporate office of a Building Materials Supplier in the middle of the worst housing slump in nearly 30 years. Let me tell you that the main reason I stay at my job IS NOT because of the job security. I do love my job, I’ve got a great boss, decent benefits, and I like the people I work with, but it’s like working in a morgue. I’m only assuming it’s like working in a morgue, for all I know working in a morgue could be fun.
Here’s possibly the last couple of popsicles pictures for a while. They love themselves some popsicles, let me tell you what. If all I fed them was popsicles, they would be two happy children. If they could eat popsicles and kick the soccer ball around the house all day, they would be two very happy children.
They are, for the most part, two very happy children, anyhow, even without the added benefit of popsicles and soccer balls. I was laying on the floor tonight and had Mason giggling uncontrollably. That’s fun for me.
Violet is now recognizing her name whenever she sees it written down. She can write most of the letters of her name, though not in the correct order just quite yet. She’s a smart kid. Early voting started yesterday, so I took her with me to vote. She saw a woman wearing a Barack Obama t-shirt, and she says, “Look, Dad, Barack Obama.” Then, we went inside to vote and all the older people volunteers oohed and aahed over here. She sat quietly in the chair while I did my civic duty, except for the minute when she thought she saw her name on the side of the voting booth. It said “Vote here.” Close. So, on the way home she said Barack Obama’s name over and over again for the nearly the whole twenty minute drive home. She did stop at one point to say, “Dad, we need to talk.” She then proceeded to tell me that she was ready to go to the big kid’s school.
Not quite as eloquent as Violet, but just as cute, Mason has begun venturing out of his comfort zone of constantly whining to try his hand at a few words. Playing on the front porch a few days ago, he was heard saying “Bubble”, as he was blowing bubbles. Then, another point after his bath, he runs out of the bathroom with his little naked body and screams, “Ball!!!” at his soccer ball.
This is how we end our day:
