We will not go quietly. Oh, and check out our Snowman!

I know that I’ve said it, admitted it, lamented it, proclaimed it: I read a lot of blogs. A lot of photographers’ blogs, in fact. Momographers, Lifeographers, Mammarazzis – you name it. I’m drawn to color, composition, stories, and lately, quietness.

I love those quiet, calm blogs.

…..

Oh that is soooooo not our family.

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There is chaos and farting and loudness and you can’t step two inches in our space without nearly killing yourself on a Lego or a Squinkie. And who the heck knows what a Squinkie really is, by the way?

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Forget making lemonade out of lemons, people. We build mighty snowmen out of snow.

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We’re gonna need a bigger carrot. And a name.

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I think “Frank”.

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That’s right. A deer knife to micro-shovel out shelves to hold Snowman Frank’s eyes, which are rocks. We have lots of rocks. I get them as presents from my 2yo every Friday, along with large sticks, like this: “Mom. Mom? MOM! I found a thparkly wock fah you.” Friday he goes to play at a farm all morning, and Friday my SUV gets loaded up with rocks and sticks to cart around until I can distract that little man long enough to clear them out.

Thankfully, I still had some nice arms for Snowman Frank in the back seat and a nice rock pile beside the driveway from which to choose some lovely, sparkly eyes.

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After displaying the patience of Job during the building of Snowman Frank, the Ellie Dawg was in for a real treat.

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She is like a Jedi Knight when it comes to snowballs.

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Yes, the force is strong in her.

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Ninety-seven hours later, Hank was still hucking snowballs for her.

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Weird. She has webbed feet.

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Nice one.

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She looks like a crazed mountain lion on the attack in that one.

And that’s how you spend a quiet afternoon at the Pantier Casa.

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Fun, we are.

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