when my son, Ethan, was little he was obsessed with feet. my feet, his mother's feet, the girls at ladies bible study's feet. when he was super tired he would chew on his own feet until they bled.
alas, now at near 2, he's given up his obsession with feet and has replaced it with an obsession for toilets, wiggles, and throwing tantrums. but the phrase "Ethan's Feet" has stuck in my head as a sort of nomenclature for my life, so there it is.
the lady in the photo is my misses, Tara. she's awesome, she works for the government, saving the world or something (its classified).
i spend my time raising a kid, being a male house wife ("house husband" has just never worked for me, so i am experimenting with male house wife, it sounds kinda funny too) and pastoring (that's not a word but it really should be) a small church plant (that means new church -- i like parentheticals, which is also not a word aparently) and thinking about church, church leadership (whatever that means) and theology when it comes up.