Just another day

Here is just another day in the Howard home. Close your eyes and picture this:

Grace is upstairs. She is screaming to the point of coughing. Yelling "I'm cold! I want to wear clothes!!!" No this isn't some sort of bizzaro punishment for her. A master plan of her's has failed. She has decided that she is opposed to "sweaty pants". Translation: She doesn't want to wear the pants you and I call sweat pants, or pants that don't have a button on them. So, in what she thought was a stroke of pure genius she put all of those pants in the hamper (which are currently in the wash) along with the few pants that she considers to be "not sweaty". *sigh* I hope the neighbors don't hear the screams of "I'm cold. I want to wear clothes!" (she is refusing to wear her pj's too by the way, so she runs into the room screaming in her cute little unders with hearts on them. Her eyes pink, puffy and watery from her fit.) I tell her she can continue to freak out but just not so close to me, she runs off to her room yelling her new mantra "I'm cold, I want to wear pants! I don't like sweaty pants!"

Yes, yes that in and of itself is rather funny but wait I'm not finished with the mental picture yet. Zeke (who we are now taking to calling "Jack,Jack" (if you have seen the Incredibles you know what I mean) is (well was) in the swing crying to the point of coughing (which seems to be a hot Howard child choice of freak out) because he wasn't being held. It's rather funny actually. Because the moment you pick him up he stops-instantly, just like that and then he smiles at you. Then the instant you place him somewhere other than your arms-the instant his little bum touches another surface-purple face screaming insues. *sigh*

And let's not for get about the Asa man. He is a sweet mood today. Following me around with his blanket on one hand and promises of being "my buddie for evah and evah". I look into his eyes one almost swelled shut from some new allergic reaction we haven't figured out yet and give him a kiss. "Grace is really freaking out Mom." he says as he starts in on his chicken and rice (it's what he picked out for breakfast). Then he starts to sing a funny little song to the tune of "Im a little tea pot" one of the lines goes something like this..."Grace is screaming, Zeke-a-baby cryin'. She wants pants, she's freakni' out" All the while supported my his brother and sister doing back up vocals (crying).

One can really do nothing but laugh I suppose. Someday when they are grown I will look back on this day with a fond feelings and wish we were living this day over again...but that day is pretty far off I think.

hhmmm...What do you think?

The following was written by Ben Stein and recited by him on CBS Sunday Morning Commentary:

Here at this happy time of year, a few confessions from my beating heart: I have no freaking clue who Nick and Jessica are. I see them on the cover of People and Us constantly when I am buying my dog biscuits and kitty litter. I often ask the checkers at the grocery stores. They never know who Nick and Jessica are either. Who are they? Will it change my life if I know who they are and why they have broken up? Why are they so important?I don't know who Lindsay Lohan is either, and I do not care at all about Tom Cruise's wife. Am I going to be called before a Senate committee and asked if I am a subversive? Maybe, but I just have no clue who Nick and Jessica are.

If this is what it means to be no longer young. It's not so bad.

Next confession:I am a Jew, and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish. And it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautiful lit up, bejeweled trees Christmas trees. I don't feel threatened. I don't feel discriminated against. That's what they are: Christmas trees.

It doesn't bother me a bit when people say, "Merry Christmas" to me. I don't think they are slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto. In fact, I kind of like it. It shows that we are all brothers and sisters celebrating this happy time of year. It doesn't bother me at all that there is a manger scene on display at a key intersection near my beach house in Malibu. If people want a creche, it's just as fine with me as is the Menorah a few hundred yards away.

I don't like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians. I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period. I have no idea where the concept came from that America is an explicitly atheist country. I can't find it in the Constitution, and I don't like it being shoved down my throat.

Or maybe I can put it another way: where did the idea come from that we should worship Nick and Jessica and we aren't allowed to worship God as we understand Him?

I guess that's a sign that I'm getting old, too.

But there are a lot of us who are wondering where Nick and Jessica came from and where the America we knew went to. In light of recent events...terrorists attack, school shootings, etc. I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found recently) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK.

Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school . The Bible says thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself. And we said OK.

Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock's son committed suicide). We said an expert should know what he's talking about. And we said OK.

Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves.

Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out. I think it has a great deal to do with "We reap what we sow." Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says.

Santodonato. Now that's a name!

My uncle Joe just sent me this picture of my Grandpa Antonio on his way to America. The odd thing is the that ship sank off the shores of Long Island a year after he arrived. The picture was taken by my uncle Joe in Naples, Italy.

Living here in Minnesota it's easy to forget who I am and where my family came from. Ever since I was a kid I remember feeling just half a step out of the loop. My name was odd- teachers could never pronounce it, when we had roll call with a substitute teacher I began to just reply with a "Here." when the new teacher took a long pause when she got to the S's. I remember going out to New York when I was a teen and having this strange feeling like I had finally come "home". No one stumbled over my name (first or last for that matter) and we all pretty much looked alike (I'm a pretty light Italian but I was dark for a northern Minnesotan.) There was a connection between all of us that was almost tangible. We were family.

This picture brings a feeling to me that is hard to put into words. This picture makes me feel proud. I can't imagine what is going through my Grandfathers mind as he prepares to leave everything he knows. I am struck by his strength to be willing to leave his family and do what is best and the most difficult. I have seen the same character in my father. His decisions are never based on difficulty, they are based on best, he always chooses best. Thank you Grandpa for making a better life for your wife, sons, and me.

This should be interesting

Well I decided that since we have moved that maybe it would be good to have a place to update ya'll on how we are and what's going on. And yes I have no computer savvy at all so this should be very interesting. Thank goodness for those google folks they make it all most idiot proof! So here goes nothing...