Squeeker squeek squeekin.

So Ursa minor has been pretty congested of late. I'm sure as newborn this would be frustrating and quite confusing. Anyway, being the terrible parents we are, we have been delighting in the squeeky noises she makes. It almost sounds like somebody jumping around in a vinyl suite.


Anyway, I obsessively have to post more pics of Uschi.

Hee haw.

Alas, alak.

I'm not so sure about this bath thing.

Nevermind.

NEVER say Never? (Connor age 4)

I remember a receint call I made to the America house....I call often because I know that most of the time one or all of the boys can't or won't want to talk to me. So I figure that if I call a million times a week, one boy may want to talk to me once. It feeds the ATA urges. I called Megan & was talking for a while and heard little Connor in playing or asking for food in the background (both forms of growling sound the same). I asked if I could talk to the boy, but when Megan handed him the phone; I heard a commotion, running start and trailing cry, "NEVER!!!!"

Sad sad day!

The Loop Holes of Beatings

CONNOR, MEG & BRYANT (July 2009)

I was on the phone the other day talking to the boys...or at least attempting to. I'd had a brief chat with Bryant and a grunt from Connor, and was about to finish up with their Mum when I heard a ruccus and some Connor whimpers in the background. This is not uncommon when I call the America house, but I wanted to make sure no one was being killed, so I asked Megan what was going on. She was too distracted to answer, but I hear her frantically yelling,

"STOP BEATING YOUR BROTHER! USING HIS HANDS COUNTS!"

With the Bryant's talent to find these loop holes, I think he should become a lawyer.

Transformers: a Melt down in Disguise.

I was just watching the dvd of Transformers 1 with JR. Due to the overwhelming sensationalism of the franchise and the sequel coming out, I wanted to see what all the hub bub was about. As I suspected, it's merely a melodramatic realization of every boy's childhood fantasy. You've got fast cars, explosions, robots and hot girls w/ wearing clothing that would in no way support their viggorous activities. According to my father, all the components that create a "good" movie.

That being said, my nephews (like boys of all ages) LOVE "good" movies. As I was being loveably forced to watch this "good" movie, I was reminded of their encounter with le cinema gradeur. When the first movie first came out, the boys, their folks and Baca went to go see it in the theater. From all accounts, the boys were enthrawled w/ the non stop explosion riddled action mayhem. So much so that before the climax of the movie our youngest monster, Connor, exploded. Well...almost. Apparently he became so engrossed and overwhelmed with all the sesory overload that he couldn't sit still. More so than usual. He must have been climbing on people, tearing out hair and gnashing his teeth because Connor has never been one to walk out on a Robot movie. Poor guy!

Shout Your Courtesy From the Rooftop!

BROCK: AGE 5-ish

This story was just obtained from a reputable source...Scouts Honor.

I just got home from an eventful evening at one Brad Jenkin's b-day shindig. There was much excitement as children chased each other and Brad told us questionable stories about his childhood, and current day habits. But the most exciting story came from the more reserved, but just as comical, Leslie.

We were caught up glorifying the golden days when she remembered a particular kindergarten playdate with her daughter Rachel & Brock. To give you a little background about Brock, at that time, he was a bit more rambunctious than he is now. He tended to take life, and other dangerous objects by the horns whenever possible. With Brocky, there wasn't much holding back, especially when it came to sharing what was on his mind. But Brock had and has a good heart and usually the best of intentions....it's just sometimes it doesn't necessarily come out that way.

Now that the background history is set up properly, picture this if you will: Rachel and Brock are playing at the park having a grand time when all of a sudden, at the top of the slide, horror creeps across Brock's face.

"Rachel! Turn around and don't look at me! I'm about to do something that my Mom says not everyone should see!" In his attempts to be courteous to his feminine playmate and obey the commands of his Mother, he just announced to the entire park his intentions to scratch an itch that boys and men know all too well.

... All done with the best of intensions.

Stories from the Boys, courtesy Aunty Adri!!!

BROCK, BRYANT, CONNOR: June 2009

So I spoke with the boys today...a rare occasion. I spoke w/ them a long time too! It's only because my new phone has a feature that you can distort your voice. You have the choice of a kids, munchkin, man, woman, toneless or hoarse voice. It's actually quite creepy. But the boys liked it...so much so that they stayed on the phone for a half an hour! Woah!When I was talking to the middle boy, Big Head Bryant, he randomly stopped the conversation and said, "Brock [his oldest sibling] cut off his pinky toe!" What?! Then Brock yelled in the background that he only cut off the toenail! Once again, Brock was running around without shoes and snagged one of his toe nails. I'm sure it's nothing. It was just interesting to hear the exhaserbation in Bryant's account.

Then I spoke with the youngest Ferral Boy, Connor. He was enthrawled with the crazy voices coming from my phone but abbruptly told me to talk normal. Then we were talking about visiting his grandparents (who are living in Australia at the moment) and I told him that we were going to see them in a few Christmases in Hawaii. I explained that Hawaii was a place where we could swim in warm water, and girls wore skirts made out of grass and coconuts on their shirts. "Tell Baca (his Grandpa) to bring a ladder." Connor interrupted. "Why?" asked I. "To get the coconuts from the trees," was his matter of fact reply.

Later on JR started to talk to Connor. He told him that Baca and Grandma live with Kangaroos and that you can teach them to box. I think he scarred the boy because he asked us to tell the Kangaroos not to hurt Baca. Then we were talking about my sister Meridth and how she's going to have a baby. He asked how big the baby was in her tummy. I told him the size of a watermellon. Then I told him that Uschi (said watermellon fetus) was going to be born on the same month as his birthday. "How long is that?" asked Connor. "About 4 months away," I told him. "Wa hooo! Yess!!!" he cried in glee. "Do you want to know what I want for my birthday?" For 5-10 minutes, he listed all the hot American toys. Most of which I couldn't understand due to his cute little speech impetiment. But he did tell me he wanted a sword.

Aaaah the boys. I'm sure that's not interesting to anyone but me. But at least I've got my ATA fix for the moment.

CONNOR’S DEEP LOVE FOR DEEP DISH

CONNOR: Age 2-3

This is an account that I was not present for, but is very descriptive of our young feral boy, nonetheless. As you will see from this story, our nickname of Connor is quite appropriate (*for those reading that don’t know, a feral is an untamed, wild beast that follows its own agenda and is not easily dissuaded from its primal instincts).
One night at the America house, the family had sat down to a nice pizza dinner at the kitchen table. Connor was 2 or 3 at the time and comfortably eating out of his high chair adjacent to the table (it may or may not have been the first time he had partaken of deep dish cuisine, but it was the first time he revealed his undying devotion to it).
As the pizza began to dwindle and everyone was enjoying their second or third slice, Connor felt threatened by the loss of this beautiful cuzine, so he pulled the entire box onto his chair’s table top. If anyone dared reach for a slice, he protected his prize with a fierce growl as he gnashed his teeth at the enemy. You think I’m joking? Maybe exaggerating? Not so. There are many witnesses of the threatened animal snarls that erupted from the tiny boy’s throat…scouts honor!

IT HAS BEGUN....

FINALLY!

THE WEE MCKEAN OFFSPRING BLOG HAS BEEN CREATED!

Hazaah!

Since you're interested enough to read this blog, you obviously know the Ferral Boys or Gimbel Girl and are interested in hearing all the havok they reak or have reaked. So here's what you should do: type out all the horror, tales of woe or famous stories that you can remember about the Boys & soon to be Girl, embellish them as much as you want, and enter them as a blog on this website. This is just for us and our Teeny McKeany friends/family. So it's a private website. Fell free to add whatever sensitive material or future blackmail that you'd like.
(If you need help adding to this blog, you can either contact ATA and ask her or simply send her your story and she'll add it herself).

Thanks for the help...let's let the games begin!