Hey, Ladies! Get funkay...

Think Beastie Boys. Paul's Boutique. All caught up?

Springtime finds the Crawford girls all sassy...Gracie, with the first of many seed-and-soil-based experiments in the miracle of new life. We'll be taking wagers on how long these new life forms survive. They very well may, if...
the following look doesn't just snap the life right out of them.
Sassy to bored. In the snap of a finger.

Eve's heavily into self-portraiture lately. Wouldn't you be, if you had a camera at the ready and you could put forth cheese like this?

Eve, flaunting the fact that she, at nearly 10 years of age, can successfully fit into a dance cosume her mother filled out aplenty at the tender age of 7. Mom's not bitter! Ahem!

Gracie, on the other hand, calms the matriarch's nerves by wearing a more-modest-than-would-be-typical-Tinkerbell costume. They still look like candidates for Clown College.

Eve's first piano recital was a smash...here, receiving her Tchaikovsky statue and a certificate from teacher Miss Tasha.

The prodigy. Eve always amazes: pubilc performance opportunities that would still make her mother vomit come second-nature to her daughter, which we all admire and envy more than a little bit. We thought we were looking at a 7 p.m. performance time, and at 6:30, when a panicked teacher called and asked if we were on our way, you've never seen 6 Crawfords and a Grandma hustle fanny quite so spastically. No fancy dress, no quiet time to gather her composure, and barely time to digest her KFC. But was she a pro? You betcha.

Eve and dear friend Emily after Clear Sky's First Annual Sock Hop. She wore mascara and danced with a boy! Dad's not supposed to know.

Eve and Mom Do History

We don't do it enough, but every so often Evie and I venture out for a girly date...this time, we toured the Historic Molly Brown House in Denver. Eve's been begging forever to see the "mansion" the Unsinkable Molly Brown lived in for portions of her adult life (don't know about Molly Brown? Seen the movie musical with Debbie Reynolds? Then get on it!)
It's not that the house is huge by modern standards, but she and her gold-mining husband were so rich at the turn of the century, their quality of life must've been above and beyond normal. Indoor bathrooms, gas lighting, electricity! Evie was amazed at how small the beds were, which is evidence of how small the people were...in our non-historic mansion, with the exception of mama, NOBODY's small.
Trying on the fancy hats brought immeasurable happiness. Price tags on those sold in the giftshop? Not exactly priceless: $250.00 on up. We were all urged to be VERY careful.

On My Honor...

Since joining the church Cub Pack last October, Ty's had THE best time; the pack at school had more bells and whistles (read: more budget), but this group has his friends, which is the real selling point. This pic could be the dictionary entry for "Cub Scout Pack Meeting": during the flag ceremony, Bryson's doing a bang-up job reverently reading through the proceedings, and his fellow Wolves?

The results of the time-tested and kid-approved activity of drawing a dinosaur on the top of your head.
Because Ty's got the best dad in the world, every time he comes up for awards they have to block out a good 10 minutes to account for all the patches, belt loops and pins he and dad continually earn. Tonight he earned his Wolf badge, in just under 6 months, and proud mama actually got to be there: no Mutual!

Because he knows the Prophet's sage counsel to avoid multiple piercings, Ty's being super-cautions while pinning the mother's wolf pin on yours truly...

Storm Watch '09

One of the things Matt and I miss most about SoCal was the panic caused by a good winter rain; news flashes by concerned anchormen and women, breaking to on-the-street reporters interviewing people, asking their subjects when they "knew" they would need their umbrellas...

here, there's actual weather patterns. Funky, nonsensical weather patterns. But no Storm Watches.
After that amazingly mild winter, spring comes in like a lion...2+ feet down here in Castle Rock, complete with school and work cancellations. Gorgeous views, fantastic to snuggle before the fireplace and watch the madness unfold, if you were lucky enough to get the groceries beforehand. And we were.

Ty, knee-high in frozen precipitation, standing in our newly-cleared Zeke path. Watching that poor pooch navigate his way through chest-high snow just to do his business, pathetic. But we laughed anyway.

A not-so-funny shot as he ascends the stairs...

Happy Trails...

Whether you prefer the old cowboy version or Van Halen's brilliant re-working, the Crawfords invite you to share along in wishing our nephew, Collin, the best of all things as he heads off to Mexico on his two-year LDS mission. Aunt Linda has fond memories of playing limbo with 3-year-old Collin as she wore a cowboy hat and a ballet tutu, David Lee Roth "Bum-ba-dee-duh"-ing from Grandma K's speakers back in the day...and here he is, at 19, with his amazing family before taking checking into the MTC. Sniff...
The Kulwicki crew, via the Prusse and Crawford genes:
Back row, L to R: Mike Prusse, Matt Crawford, Eve Crawford, Linda Crawford, Camille Prusse, Collin Prusse. Front row, L to R: Ty Crawford, Grace Crawford, Shane Crawford, Colette Prusse, Grandma K, Diane Prusse. Last time we can take such a picture for at least the next two years. Which is a good thing.

Had to sneak in a pic of the smooth criminal...

Easter Morn

Of all of the Bunny's gifts, none was more thought-provoking than the edible Easter grass imported from Germany...if you can't read that label, one of the selling points is that it's "Grass-tastic!" Sure, and why not?
The Bunny isn't all about wanton consumption of crap; he's heavy into literacy, at least where the Crawford kids are concerned. Much joy will abound as we repeatedly hear Ty read this tome aloud. The best part: it quotes dialogue directly from the movie. No, really, I've been heavily reassured that this IS the best part.

The bunny's effort at wish fulfillment for Eve: a Pretty Princess Tea Party cookbook. Not that she asked for the book, per se; I believe her heartfelt request was for a mother that created these kinds of delicacies on a daily basis. Or who cooked in any kind of a meaningful way at all. The book provides a way, in theory.

Not as gross as it seems: just Shane, working the bubblegum eggs. Hard to believe that they weren't constructed of the world's finest bubble-blowing ingredients. Shane also scored Star Wars readers...Shane's nothing but impressive with the academics!

The first of many headless and tail-less chocolate bunny corpses that have begun to litter our property. Gracie also scored "Bear Gets Sick" for the library, and "Thumbelina" on DVD...which will join the other siblings' additions to the collection: "Bedtime Stories", "Bolt", and "High School Musical 3".

Would you let this troop into your place of worship? My sister and brother-in-law's ward had no qualms...bravery! Or low standards?

Our brave nephew Collin is entering the MTC this very week in prep to work the souls of the residents of the Mexico Puebla mission. We wish him all the luck in the world, and know that although his parents and sisters will have a complete breakdown, this is the best thing in the world for him and for those folks down there waiting for him. We're proud as second-degree relatives can be!

Easter Prep 101

We feel that it's important to keep the kids loaded up on as much sugar as humanly possible. Obviously, you make dozens of sugar cookies, cover them in icing, marshmallows, coconut and sprinkles mere hours before Peter Cottontail makes his appearance and brings another 10+ pounds of choclate and gelatin-based garbage into your home. Obviously.
Metabolize that!

Looking more guilty than satisfied.

Egg-dying is more time-consuming and patience-trying than the boys have the temperament for. Caught them in the act anyway.

Evie, on the other hand, could do this all day. It's just her misfortune that her mother can't hard-boil an egg correctly.

The skill! The technique! The inevitable breakage...

Too prissy. to get those fingers all stained. She opted to look cute instead.

Hunting Season

Easter Eve. Perfect conditions for an egg hunt: tight quarters, no age divisions, tornado-grade winds. As a parent, you feel good about sending your little ones out into a free-for-all with what seems like hundred of other unsupervised kids, wood chips flying into their eyes...
At least Gracie had a good time throwing her tantrum. And, hey, we can have another hunt tomorrow...

A bit cold, damp and dreary this Easter...but bunnies are not known to care much for weather reports, and tend to hide Easter eggs on the deck and lawn regardless of precipitation. The crew is all decked out in protective gear to claim their bounty...

The second and last egg Gracie procured on her own before the rain forced her inside. Her inner diva is becoming more and more pronounced.

Intrepid Evie, rescuing an egg from its perch underneath a dripping patio table...

The boys. Egged-up, wet, and ready to rock.

Later that evening, in the dry warmth of Aunt Diane's basement, yet another hunt, cousins only. It just never gets old, does it?