"H" is for "HUNT!"

I had no idea what to do for "H" day, yet knew we really should do something academic around here instead of watching Nick, Jr. all day! Since I couldn't think of a fantastic idea, I took the easy way out and said "H" was for "hunt!" I figured that way Mason could figure out what "H" was for! He has his own little VTech camera, so I had him put it to good use. I sent him and Nana on an outing to find all the objects they could that began with the letter "h". . .

They had a great time, and came up with some good stuff! On his own, Mason found

            

a "Honda"

some "horses"

               

a "Highlights" magazine

and a "hydrant"

And my very favorite discovery of the day?  "H" is for "holding hands."  So sweet, those two!

That's my studious boy. . .practicing his "H's!"  (Actually, we're making him practice before he does something much more imaginative like pretending he's a B-2 Bomber.  A typical day in the life of the Rays!)

39 plus 1 equals COOLEST HUSBAND EVER!

Happy, HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my handsome husband. Here are my top ten reasons why he's the coolest and most wonderful 40-year old ever, and deserves to have a PERFECT birthday today:

1. The man can dance. I am so not joking about this. He can two-step, jitterbug, waltz, or just cut loose and "bust-a-move." He's light on his feet in a way that defies his size. Go, Rip!

2. He can fix, built, repair, and drive ANYTHING. (This is a handy thing for your hubs to be able to do, ladies!) He can weld, solder, diagnose issues, and use any tool known to man. From building our playset with my dad to driving a tractor at the Ranch to birthing calves with his dad to defragmenting our computer, he's got it covered. He's got SKILLS. He can even drive an 18-wheeler! He's a total renaissance man.

{2.1 His skills extend to his vocabulary. I LOVE a man who knows the difference between "your" and "you're," knows how to work an apostrophe to perfection ("s apostrophe" or "apostrophe s?" Rip will know), and has taught me to never end a sentence in a preposition. He's smart that way.}

3. AND he looks fantastic in a suit. So powerful and polished. There's nothing like a man in a suit, shiny shoes, and a tie. Yummy.

4. Rip is TOTALLY hands-on with our kids. He bathes them every night, cooks them breakfast every morning, and plays a mean game of Chutes and Ladders. He's changed more than his share of diapers, and takes them to the library every few weeks. He's amazing.

5. He can cook, and I'm not talking about heating up mac-n-cheese. He makes the best brisket this side of Brenham, has pulled pork tacos mastered, and makes delicious mashed potatoes. He also bakes. (I know, right? Does it GET any better?) The neighbors crave his homemade yeast rolls.
6. He's a gentleman. He always walks on the "street side" of the sidewalk and opens doors for me. I knew I was going to marry him when he handed me a handkerchief shortly after we started dating. He also says "yes, ma'am" or "no, sir" as necessary in his sweet Texas accent. Mmmmm.

7. He always chooses to spend time with "us" over anything else. He'd rather watch "Monsters, Inc." than play poker, go hunting, or play in a softball league. He makes me feel like there's nowhere in the world he'd rather be than home or with me. And I really believe that it's true.

8. He will wear a Purdue sweatshirt and hat and root for my team. Ya'll have no idea how much that means to me. It's a big deal.

9. Not only does he prefer to be home than anywhere in the world, but he NEVER COMPLAINS when I want to go out of town to visit a friend or go on a girls' trip for a weekend. . .he never makes me feel like I shouldn't go. I love that.

10. He's a great partner. I know that he's on "my team," which happens to be affectionately referred to as "Team Ray." He loves our kids, me, his parents and sister, my parents, and our extended families deeply, and that's the best trait in the world. (He also happens to love dogs, but I'll leave that piece of information out since I don't share his enthusiasm for big house dogs.)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RIPPER!!!!! I love you to infinity and beyond.

The Great American Backyard Campout

Rip and Mason have been talking about doing this for probably a year. . .I think Mason wore Rip down, so the two FINALLY had their campout.

Despite promising to help set up their campsite, Mason got distracted very quickly. As soon as the tent was out of the box, Mason thought playing in the sandbox looked like more fun. And clearly (?) that necessitated taking off his pants. When I asked him why he was "nekkid," he said he didn't want to get sand in his undies. Aaaaaah. Gotcha.

As soon as the hard work was over, Mason was all about camping again. He got the inside of the tent all set up with sleeping bags, pillows, toys, and his beloved stuffed animals. He was so very excited.


And Rip was having a blast. He was so happy to sit by the "campfire" (aka the grill), drink his beer, and enjoy the evening. He said at one point that it felt like they were at the Ranch. Since that's one of Rip's favorite places in the world, I thought that was a pretty good thing.


The two cooked hotdogs on sticks, roasted marshmallows, made smores, and talked. It was so sweet to see.

They went to sleep around 9, and I didn't hear from them again until daybreak. They came inside smelling like campfire smoke and boys, and happy as could be.

"Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler!"

Don't be too impressed. . .I have absolutely no idea how to pronounce that! But I DO know that it means "Let the Good Times Roll" in Louisiana-speak. (Okay, it's really French, but that's WAY outside my comfort zone.)



We GOT to EAT 'da CRAWFISH!



Our super cool neighbors, Dameian and Jerry, host a crawfish boil every spring. This is the first time we've ever been able to go, so we had to start with a little lesson. . .



Rip needed NO assistance with the nasty little buggers. He knew precisely the strategy. . .



The kiddos were more fascinated with the live crawfish than the cooked ones. . .they loved getting sticks and trying to get the crawfish to grab on with their claws. Well, all the kids but Mason. Look at the horror on his little face. . .


Admittedly, tearing the heads off crawfish isn't exactly my thing. I have a phobia of any meat "on the bone," and the full skeleton of a crawfish definitely falls into that category. So I stayed close to the table with chips, cookies, and hot dogs. Me and The Boo.



We had a great afternoon hanging out with our neighborhood friends and letting the kids run wild. I may not have loved the main course, but I absolutely loved the party!


"Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler!"

SHOWDOWN SUNDAY!

We are a blended family. . .






Rip comes from a long line of Aggies, and I am a proud Boilermaker who bleeds black & gold.


What are the chances this would happen?



This is a BIG day for the Ray family. . .BOILER UP! GIG 'EM AGGIES!




(Will one of us have to sleep on the couch tonight? We shall see!)

G is for Giving

Remember my brilliant idea to do "alphabet activities" with Mason? Ummmmm. . yea. Remember how the last activity I posted about was in, I dunno, like October?

Okay. . .so clearly I'm not the best about keeping up with this. But we DID get through the letter "G." In December. I suppose this is a bit (a lot?) delinquent, but I figure it's better late than never. I'll try to be better with "H!!!"

Before Christmas, we took Mason to pick out a child from the "angel tree." Before we had kids. Rip and I used to make an annual event of shopping for children in need. Always one boy, one girl. This year, we wanted Mason to "run the show," so we let him pick. It was so heartwarming to see him deliberate, then choose one name from the tree. He chose a preschool-aged girl who asked for a "Little People Playset." He was so excited to shop for her and pick out something he thought she'd like.

Even though it was for a girl who probably dreamed of the Little People Happy Sounds House, Mason just KNEW she would want the farm. He was very insistent, so we let him select the farm.

I think the most special moment of the experience was watching Mason pay for the gift. We give him $1 in assorted coins every week, and he must divide it into "spend" (50%), "save" (40%) and "give" (10%) piggy banks. After the whole year, he had $4 in change in his "give" bank. Which he proudly carried around WalMart in a Ziploc bag, then gave to the cashier like a champ.

He was so proud that we didn't let him see us secretly slipping the cashier our credit card to pay the difference between his $4 contribution and the cost of the farm!

As soon as we got home, we talked about what we had just done, and asked him if he knew why it was important. I almost cried when he said "some little girls and boys have parents who don't have very much money for food or presents. We helped them have a Christmas, too." Oh, what a sweet boy!

And of course, we practiced the letter "G." G is for giving!

Boiler Up!

One of the (many) things I miss about living in Indiana is being able to see Purdue play on TV. I'm a third generation fan, and as they say, we "bleed black & gold." I love, love, LOVE Purdue sports. When they're good, like the men's basketball team is now, we get to catch so many more games because the networks will air them!

This season has been a ton of fun, and we've made a huge deal out of watching the games as a family. I'm trying to make little Boilermakers out of my boys, so we get all dressed up in our gear and make an event of it!

We even got our little basketball goal out and played a "pick-up game" during halftime. Somehow, it involved chasing each other around the whole downstairs, and there was even some tackling, but that's okay. We'll be flexible on the rules of the game for now!

Hail, Hail to Old Purdue!