regarding a certain pigeon


Remember this post?
All about that nasty pigeon {that I have since named Beverly}?
Well, we kept watching and watching and watching.
And that darn egg never hatched.
Although we were pretty hopeful that Beverly would leave since her egg was a dud, we felt kind of sad.
We were pretty sure it was our fault that that egg never hatched.
With all of those buckets of water out of the sliding door during the Idaho-wintry month of May, we probably caused the egg to freeze.

Feeling laden with grief, Tyrel looks out on the deck one last time to say his goodbyes.
But instead of saying adieu, he shouts, "THERE'S ANOTHER ONE!"
Needless to say, all remorse as gone and was replaced with slight aggitation.
Beverly is never going to leave, is she?

This morning before Ty left for work, he decided to see if the one good egg had hatched yet.
After slowly sneaking to the window, banging on the glass like a madman to scare Beverly out of the nest, he turned around quickly, his face forlorne.
For this is what he saw...
{note the dead egg on top. oops.}
 Apparently, Beverly gets around.
As tickled as I am to find out that our backyard is a pigeon brothel, I am beyond thrilled to be moving out of this place in t-minus 24 days.
Sorry, Beverly. I guess that means you are on your own.



Tyrel's sister {Coya} and her husband {John} are in the process of moving to Nebraska.
We are extremely bummed out to see them go but are so excited {and jealous} for the adventures that await.
Father's Day was one of our last hurrahs, and I promised I would post some pictures.
Mainly because half of them are hillarious.
Oh Mady.
Now who will we laugh at? :)

five months


Tuesday was my little girl's five month mark.
Silly, I tell you.
She is growing up way too fast.
Since I have been working all the time (boo.), my lovely friend Jayme took some 5 monthers for me.
You want to steal my baby, don't you?

Well, you can't.
I have 9 months of weight gain {which, by the way, I am almost rid of!}, 24 hours of labor pains, and 5 months of poopy diapers under my belt {and currently the agonies of teething {we hope!}}.
I think that means I have dibs.
But I will nibble her chunky thighs and squishy cheeks for you!

father's day


We had a nice little Father's Day, and I hope you did, too.

I am just tickled that they are so much alike.
Look at those silly faces.

More later, folks.

today kemry ate some bananasmoosh...


...and loved it.

She has been doing so great with her rice cereal that I mashed up part of one during lunch today.
She ate all of it.
And continued to lick her hand afterward to get all the banana-y goodness that had migrated away from her mouth and onto her sticky paw.

Aaaaand then she drank 8 ounces of milk after.

{But seriously. You should see her thighs lately.}



All morning long, Kemry kept making this face at me...
Look at those cheeks.
Holy canoli.
Adorable, yes?
That is what I thought.
And, quickly after said thought, I remembered another picture I had taken a few days ago when she was playing with Sophie {the Giraffe, for those of you who are not familiar with ridiculously-expensive-but-so-worth-it baby toys}...
Cute as well.
Something about that little crack just made you smile, didn't it?

I am sure that she will be horrified when she is older and finds out that her peek-a-boo-crack was shown to everyone on the internet.
But she is just to darn cute to keep that one hidden on the hard drive.

curse you, tyrel murri


Yes. It is true.
The NBA Finals.
I guess he had to start her early or something.

tummy giggles


Sorry about the obnoxious mother in this video.
But this is really posted for my parents since they live 1,000 miles away.
And they love me {almost} as much as they love Kemry so it evens out.



I had been anxiously waiting to pick up this book and read it since it came out {but once I went on maternity leave, I hardly stepped foot in our bookstore to check it out for a few weeks...a great perk of working for Barnes and Noble, ps.} and just finally got around to finishing it tonight.

The story is told by a five-year-old-boy named Jack. 
Jack and his mother live in Room {basically an 11x11 foot shed in the back their kidnapper's yard}. 
Room is all he has ever known. 
It deals with the terror, joy, and love that they experience in Room, held together by their loving relationship with one another. 
When they finally escape Room, Jack {and his mother, for that matter} has to learn to live all over again.

I thought the story started off great but slowly pittled off toward the end.
Enough so that I just skimmed the last few pages.
Overall, I would give it a 6/10.
Good enough for one read, but definitely not great enough to make it onto my bookshelf.
{as for a few other books I have read in the past couple of months...
 I Am Number Four {Pittacus Lore}
3/10. Laaaaaame.

Bossypants {Tina Fey}
9/10. Awesome.
 Matched {Ally Condie}:  
6/10. Good idea...
...but it was slow to pick up the pace. Still, I will probably read the next one because the first leaves you hanging.

Water For Elephants {Sara Gruen}
I started this when it came out waaaay back in 2006 and had only the last few chapters left before I got too busy with here we are...2011. Finally finished. And it was not too shabby.}

Just in case you were wondering.

the trial of being a baby


The other night we took an evening stroll in the park.
We had such a peaceful, nice time...


...until we turned around to go home, and I saw this...

 Oh dreaded baby hair! 
She has been sporting a tuft of a yamaka on top, an old man's baldy-strip in the middle, and a unkept rattail on the bottom.
Poor thing.

Thankfully, we were able to fix the rattail problem...
And now that she rolls over onto her stomach no matter what we do, the other two might fix themselves.
If not, she is in for one rough childhood.

the day tyrel and vandy turned 99


How can that be?
Isn't Vandy only 23?
And Tyrel 26?
It comes down to this, folks.
The worst cold bug ever known to mankind has taken over the Murri household.
It is sicknasty.
Let's just say that the CEO of Kleenex should cut us a rebate check.

I am finally getting over the worst part of my cold.
Tyrel is unfortunately just getting to it.
Neither of us, however, can hear a darn thing.
As we were both getting ready for work this morning, our ears were exceptionally plugged, made so much better by the fact that I hardly had a voice.
Tyrel and I are infamous for trying to talk to one another at the most illogical times, like when one person is standing next to the washer/dryer, holding the screaming baby, or taking a shower with the vent on...
So we already know how short-tempered we are {I am} about this subject.
After the 49th time of Tyrel saying, "Huh? What? I can't hear you", I decided I needed shout what I was saying.
As loud as I could
{which turned out to be a bad idea because of the pain that emanated from lungs due to coughing and phlegm}.
This did not make Tyrel happy.
Which did not make me happy.
Which made Tyrel even more unhappy.
{Well, it was probably just me getting more unhappy again}
{Kemry could have cared less, for the record}
All of this silliness {along with some sore leg muscles from a run earlier in the week where I decided I didn't need to stretch before or after...} made me realize that we are going to make horrid old people.
And isn't the goal of life to become those cute old people who knit and read the paper all day?
And play bingo and take naps?
Or something like that?

But even though we haven't been able to hear each other the past few days, be it due to our plugged ears or the constant coughing/nose-blowing, we still knew how to take care of each other, in our own way...
Including back tickles, face massages, slow walks in the park, and no cooking {hallelujah!}.

So as I sat in the rocking chair, feeding the Kemster her pre-bed bottle {who has also suffered the agony of this cold...don't even get me started on the boogers...} and watched my poor husband with a hot rice pack on his painfully throbbing ear, I realized that, even though we would make an awful elderly couple, we are one rad young family.

And besides, I already know how to knit and am a professional napper.
I guess that means we are half-way there.

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