How do I do this?

All right. I've been trying to get this blog going for several days now, so I figured I should just write something on the off chance that someone happens upon our spot. Of course, I'm new to all of this. I don't even know what the heck "blog" means. I'll tell you why I'm doing this. I have a friend (hey Anne!) who thoroughly enjoys my emails and newsletters. She always tells me how hilarious I am and that I should share me with the world... ah, who doesn't enjoy a little flattery? But I must admit: I really do enjoy writing about my family, especially when I can make someone laugh! There are days, such as this one, that finding something nice to say about my kids is a must, lest someone's life be in danger.

So Anne but the bug in my ear - she's also to be credited with our title, as she says she loves our "antics". I won't even talk about the book deal she's hoping for... So at first I thought, nah, I haven't time for such ventures. But then I thought about our warm-hearted-but-not-really-that-mature 17-year-old son, Wesley, who talks in his sleep NIGHTLY!; Our brainiac-turned-Edward-Cullen 14-year-old son, Tyler, who's not only brilliant, funny and loyal, but HOT to boot; Our Twilight-obsessed, star athlete, future pro volleyball player/global missionary 14-year-old daughter, Ally, who isn't afraid to ask the "blonde" questions; Our strong-willed, control-freak, "I-wasn't-being-bossy-I-was-just-warning-them-because-someone-was-going-to-get-hurt"-otherwise known as the TYPE A - 11-year-old daughter, Kurstin, who can't tell a story without EVERY MINUTE DETAIL, but none of the important ones; Our thoughtful, sweet, caring, never-wanting-to-hurt-anyone's-feelings 8-year-old daughter, Elissa, who isn't quite so thoughtful, sweet, caring or mindful of feelings when paired with her older sister (the type A); and of course, the oh-so-cute, adored-by-all, best baby in the world (no contest), our 14-month-old son, Robben, who daily amazes us all with his new tricks and words, such as "cock".

All that being said, it was my dear husband Todd who finally convinced me this had to be done... not with his words, but his actions. It was a cold and rainy night. He'd had a long day at work (installing a beautiful custom hardwood floor in a large home that was being remodeled. The owners were not living there at the time, so there was no power. Because of the weather and time of year, it got dark very early, so they pulled the work truck almost INTO the house and shined the high beams in for light). So on his way home, there was a light misting rain, and his truck, a '54 classic, has no windshield wipers (bad fuse). We live way out in the country where there are no street lights, so this was a particularly precarious situation. He drove about 20 miles per hour to the nearest gas station to buy a squeegee... you can feel it coming can't you? The man proceeded the rest of the way home driving with his window down and actually SQUEEGEE-ING the rain from his windshield!!! The 15 minute journey took upwards of an hour! We won't even talk about the cold dinner he came home to.

I didn't see how such incidents could occur and go unnoticed by the world at large. So here we are. The final nail was driven into this coffin that night when Wesley, ever the thirsty child (he seriously is parched at the mere mention of "work"), tried getting out of the top bunk to get a drink and toppled head-over-heels, gashing his ribs on Tyler's bed before crashing onto the stone floor. Hearing the commotion, Todd went to see if something was amiss, only to find that the door was blocked by a heavy object - that would be Wesley. He wasn't sure what was going on, as these episodes usually happen while he's sleeping... the aches and bruises served as a bitter reminder in the morning.

So how could two such incidents take place in such rapid succession if not to provide a sign for me that it is high time we start a blog?!?!