They say that words written onto an internet page are as good as being carved into stone. I couldn’t agree with that statement more than I do tonight as I realize that it has been nearly two full years since I updated anything on this blog. Not to say that I’ve been lounging around naked in a bean bag chair eating Cheetos (to borrow a Ron White quip), but it is still a little disappointing that it has been this long.
It will be nearly impossible to chronicle all of the happenings of the past two years, so I will attempt to sum them up in the next sentence. Hang on to your hats..
Trevor Aaron was our second son to be born 8-weeks early and need an extended stay in the NICU before joining us at home where we settled in to the routine as a family of four only to be roused from that dream by a surprise (can’t put enough emphasis on surprise) pregnancy test in March 2016 that declared we would be a family of 5 made up of 3 kids the oldest of which was 3-1/2 yrs old when our princess Elise Ann was born in October – though not 8-weeks early she still managed to conjure up her own memorable entrance to the world.
Whew. I might have a future in word-smithing after that spectacle, yeah?! There you have it. In between raising an independent toddler and trying to keep the middle child alive – by the way, he was literally born to be a middle child, hindsight being 20/20 – we have somehow added to our chaos a beautiful baby girl. And it is on that note that I decided a proper journal of the adventures of the Pickle Jar needed to be revived. Some of the events we have lived through I will back track and pick up, some will remain only a memory in our mind that brings a smile to our face and hearts.
2016 has been one of the most incredible years we have ever been through both personally and professionally. Looking back I regret not writing down those memories onto the stone tablets of the web. Looking forward I see plenty of stories that will have to be written out to be believed. Like the time the boys had a sword fight in the living room with wine glasses. Or the time the boys helped me change the oil, and I looked down to see nothing but Trevor’s stocky legs sticking out from under the van. Or the time(s) we found the boys in the driveway in nothing but diapers/unders talking to strangers who were out on a walk. Or the time The Mrs caught Trevor literally hanging from the dining room light fixture. Or the time….
House of Pickles 
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