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.

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?

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

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

I think “Frank”.

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.

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

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

Yes, the force is strong in her.

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

Weird. She has webbed feet.

Nice one.

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.

Fun, we are.

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