Jeremy Camp

MY niece, Juliette, and I went to a concert Friday night.

The last concert I went to was New Kids on the Block.

I was twelve...so quit snickering.
At the time I was the envy of my middle school.
NKOTB was a blast--I won't apologize for my fangirl mania.

I went with my friend, Leah Redding. We got matching floral print overall shorts, coordinating scrunchies for our off center ponytails, and a silver plated locket to keep as a memento of our time in the big city...Albuquerque. I screamed non-stop and ignored the fact that my beloved Jordan couldn't carry a tune when singing live. Leah refused to waste a moment screaming and instead savored her time staring at the little dot that was her favorite new kid, Joe McIntyre.

*sigh*
nostalgia

I take no credit for my taste in music. Any one growing up in crazy town Roswell is granted immunity for lack of cultural sophistication.

So, taking into consideration my prior taste in music--or at least my tendency to ignore crummy music and squeal over poofy haired pretty boys--proceed with caution.

Juliette and I saw Bebo Norman, Natalie Grant, and Jeremy Camp. They're christian rock artists and not my typical genre, but they were surprisingly non-trite for the most part and I was impressed by their earnestness. Granted, it may not take much to top NKOTB, but this rock concert...rocked. Prior to the concert I was only familiar with one song from one artist: Jeremy Camp: There Will be a day

And that was the last song of the night.

It was totally worth the drive to Portland.
Bebo Norman: Inventive name. Fantastic voice.
Natalie Grant: Not Related to Amy Grant. Fantastic band behind her.
Jeremy Camp: His little girls danced on the stage with him in a die-of-cuteness moment. He can lead my sing-along any time.

I'm no longer a sucker for bouffant boy hair and perfect orthodontic smiles. I prefer the real man (with no hair and a naturally perfect smile that still pierces me) who walks through my front door every evening. So let me now recommend that you not add New Kids on the Block to your iTunes favorites. But it might be worth your time to check out these three artists. They each have a couple of songs, at least, that are truly stellar.

And if you ever want a fantastic girl's night out, let me recommend Juliette. She could make Chinese water torture fun. (not that Bebo is water torture, quit putting words in my mouth)

*love that girl*

And the Emmy Nomination goes to ...Emmy

This Girl...my little dramatist.

She's Bright, Articulate, Energetic, Thoughtful

Extremely Tender-hearted and Compassionate

Playful, Imaginative, Creative in the Extreme

At times, she is other-worldly. True, we joke that she's often in her own world. Or perhaps on vacation in a world of her own creation. One inhabited by dragons, talking cats, or horses with wings. She often seems to be writing and performing the soundtrack for her own mental movies.

And so I wonder what she will do with that Other-worldliness.


With her poet's soul, will she write books that transport us to those places she spends so much time creating? Will she write the music that will make our deepest emotions seem tangible?

I don't think she will be able to help herself. I think she will always need to create, be it in sculpture, performance, visual art, music, or some genre she invents herself.

Check back here soon. I'll share some of her work with you. And when those accolades and nominations start rolling in you can say you were a fan of her earliest works.

Let Sleeping Babies Lie...if you can.

Whenever I see this picture my lips get a bit twitchy and I feel a burning need to kiss that little hand.

And This. This is no help at all. I swear this little boy will get no rest at all. How am I supposed to resist? He just lays there, all warm and sweet smelling...

and flashes these little numbers, and I'm expected to look but not touch?

I think not.




He's asking for it, really. I cannot be held accountable for disturbing a sleeping baby.

(sorry, Abram-love)





But when I do wake him up, as I inevitably will,



he is, if possible, even more kissable.




Poor kid can't get a break.



But really, it's his own fault. That's what you get for being beautiful and charming. The gifted life is a hard one to live, fella. Beautiful people have to make sacrifices for their adoring public.

ooohhhh. MY mama lips are mighty twitchy. Do you think I could sneak upstairs and kiss him without waking him?

hmmm. Worth a try.

An Examination of the Attributes of Cheeks

Being a baby lover in general, and having five little loves of my own, I am a great appreciator of fine cheeks. They are kissing pads and smile magnifiers, raspberry receivers and snuggle cushions.

Finley's cheeks are full, round, plush, and go on for days. We think they give her the squeezable shape of a CareBear. Her big round eyes and unique, unalterable hairstyle only contribute to the impersonation.
When we unearthed Emma's CheerBear costume (the one she sweated to death wearing on a Florida Halloween ) Finley wore it for days on end. Those naturally fluffy cheeks hugged by the padded cheeks on a CareBear hood is Swoon Worthy. Tell me, dear reader, do you not want to kiss every surface inch of this little girl?






















I **heart** cheeks

One Track Mind

It's 1am. My babies are sleeping. The house is quiet. So, what am I doing with my late-night kid-fee hours? Looking a pictures of my little people, of course. Reliving the bliss. You see, I don't photograph tantrums, public meltdowns, stomach flu, overwhelming household chores. I photograph grins, and discoveries, and cheeks that beg to be kissed. And birthdays, I document those too, screamin' or no. Here's Jared's 10th birthday from back in May: Paintball! Yeah, baby! What a blast. Aaron's brother, Alan, put together a rocking game of woods ball and Tamara made a paintball cake. Aaron, Jared, and I had so much fun with Alan, Juliette, Logan, and two of Jared's friends from the baseball team. And you know what? Ten-year-old boys can be brutal. Do not underestimate the tenacity with which they will pursue you through the woods. (oh, and wear extra padding. Paintballs hurt a bit.)

Totally non-sequential

Blogging for me is feast or famine. After the famine of the past several months we're gonna have to approach the catch-up phase a little like an appetizer buffet. No rhyme or reason or logical progression. Just bite sized snatches of "oh, and this happened" and "lookie-here". So if the Spraguelings look drastically different from post to post, you'll know why. And so my first offering of yumminess is from Abram's fist birthday, which of coarse was also my birthday. Oct.9th:
yeah, We like him a whole lot. And I liked having a chocolate monkey cake, as well as a little monkey man to share it with, on our birthday. Our cousin, Logan joined us for a day-off-from-school trip to the zoo. Followed up by a steak dinner grilled to perfection by my sweet baby-daddy. And, yes, a chocolate monkey cake. We had our extended family over the next day for more monkey cake and family fun. So I feel like we were thoroughly celebrated. I'm amazed that I've had an entire year of these dreamy blue eyes and cheeky little monkey grin. He's beautiful, clever, energetic, snuggly, and ...mine. I challenge anyone to know him and not fall deeply and irrevocably in love with him. Happy Birthday, Abey-baby.