Baby Girl!

I keep forgetting that most people don't visit the maternity blog, so I'll post it here too. It's another girl! Obviously, we would have been happy with a boy as well, as long as he was healthy - but a girl is great! Won't have to cram 3 boys and a dog in one room, we have girl clothes around, MaraJade will have a sister (whether she likes it or not), and it's balanced!

Joe Edward Flanagan 3/1/1930-9/4/2009

My Grandpa Joe - my mom's dad and whose name Mace has as one of his middles - passed away September 4 after a long battle with emphysema, pneumonia and such.

From the Seattle Times:

Joe E. FLANAGAN Joe left us on Sept. 4, 2009. He was a retired beer truck driver, avid bowler and horse race fan. He is survived by wife Arlene; sons Eddie (Delsie), Kevin & Tim (Heidi) Flanagan; daughters Linda (John) Burrell, Jolene Warden and was predeceased by Kyle Kochel. He also left sisters Emma (Carl) Soderberg, Helen Thomas and brother Ray (Lois) Flanagan, many grand and great-grandchildren. Come celebrate Joe's life with us on Sun. Sept. 20 at the Mt. Baker Comm. Club, 2811 Mt. Rainier Drive S., Seattle, WA 98144 at 1:00 p.m. We'll share memories, stories and food.

Maceism of the Day - 9/17/09

So I'm at Toys R Us with all the kids to buy the boys some Legos. Everyone's wandering around, looking at the various items. There's one of those displays in a case, with some Legos assembled & looking super cool. A boy, maybe 6 years old, is completely enthralled with the display, calling down the aisle to his mom about how cool they are and so on. Mace comes up next to him to see, and so the boy turns his enthusiasm on him - like any friendly kid would. After a few seconds, Mace says, "Hello?! You're talking to a stranger!" The boy immediately shuts down and says, "Oh. Yeah," and goes back to looking at the display, now completely silent.

Oh Safety Town - your influence lives on.

Losing your mind...

happens so slowly, you just sort of don't notice it. Not until that final straw lands and you go over the edge. Sometimes it does so slowly, drifting down and falling softly onto the pile of similarly harmless-looking straws, all of which are deceptively suffocating. Other times, it's that last giant stick that comes crashing down on your little teepee of sticks and straws and obliterates your carefully-constructed cage. Either way, when the fog clears a little, you're left in the same condition - with one little hand waving weakly out the top of the mountain.

"Your grammar is a measure of your character"

Perfect!!