Alliteration

I told S., "You can't bonk your baby brother with a book!" Then I saw what book she had just bonked him with:





Reason #11

Yesterday while Sheridan was 'napping', I heard her calling softly, "Mommy. Mommy. Mommy." I went in to tell her to be quiet and go back to sleep. She calmly told me, "I stuck." And she was. With her foot. In her bottle.

Last night, she was calling Daddy just as softly. He discovered she had her leg stuck between the bars of her crib.

So today, when she started calling me with a more urgent tone, I hurried in to see what was stuck where. She was standing up in her crib, grinning cheerily when I opened the door, and greeted me with, "Cookie?"

Turd.

This wasn't yesterday's incident. This was five minutes ago. A good scientist repeats her experiments to see if the results are consistent.

I have no idea what she has going on with the shirt.

Just Good, Clean(ish) Fun

We were on our way to a party at a friend's house Friday night, and C. was trying to get the itinerary straight in his head:

"Mommy, we are picking M. up at the library?"
"Yes."
"And then we are going to Walmart?"
"Yes."
"And then we are going to the B.'s?"
"Yes."
"And then we are going to jail?"
"Ye-what???"

Okay, the B.s' parties are always fun and the atmosphere is pretty relaxed, but I don't recall anyone going to jail. That does make me wonder what sort of stories C. is going to be telling at school about our family activities.

We were originally supposed to be going to another gathering, one I'm sure we would have enjoyed as well, peopled with names that are probably a bit more recognizable around town. Good people, but no one I know well enough to say, "Oh, crap, the baby puked on me, can I borrow a pair of jeans?" to. (Not that this has happened to me. Just M.)

The B.s' parties are peopled with mechanics, cops, teachers. Hard-working, plain-speaking, salt-of-the-earth types, who may not have a lot of money or connections, but who will show up to help when your pipes freeze. They live waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay out in the desert, on land they are fixing up themselves. It seems like every time we go out there is something new - a garden, a horse corral, a nice deck with a hot tub.

Of course, this month we finally started getting some rain, and the sky really dumped just before the party. They had put up a couple awnings over the deck so the adults were nice and dry, but the ground for miles around was solid mud. Did I mention that most of these people have kids? And that the kids of hard-working, salt-of-the-earth types are generally not prissy, afraid-to-get-dirty types?

Yep, they had fun. C. ran off to join the pack the minute we got there (which, as shy as he used to be, made me very happy), and I pretty much didn't see him for the next four hours, except when Daddy found him and made him get something to eat. Mrs. B. very wisely served everyone from the doorway of the house, blocking it off with her 90-pound frame and a don't-even-think-about-walking-those-muddy-shoes-into-my-kitchen stare.

S. was her usual charming little turd self, scamming food from everyone, seeing how close she could get to the edge of the deck and then grinning every time she made Daddy jump. She enjoyed the mud as well (which reminds me, I still need to see if I can get those cammo boots clean). L. slept the entire time, not even stirring when one of the ladies appeared in front of me, announced, "I have washed my hands," scooped him up, and wandered off. There you have a testament as to how relaxed these gatherings are - that morning at the library I had kept him hidden away from everyone at the SRP closing ceremony, but when T. carried him away I just dug into my cake and ice cream, enjoying having both hands free for a moment.

Conversation ranged from car repair to husbands who hog the bed to potato salad recipes (the latter sounds so old ladyish, but it was REALLY GOOD potato salad!) No politics, no having to watch what you say or to who, just regular people wrapping up the week and enjoying each others' company.

And nobody went to jail.

A Timely Warning

Last night I was washing the cover to L.'s bouncy seat, and actually took a moment to read the stuff printed on the bottom:

I guess that means he'll have to give up smoking while he's sitting in it.

I'll break the news when he wakes up.

You Might Be Rednecks If...

...instead of making airplane noises to get your child to eat, you pretend her food is bugs that you chase around and stab with your fork...

...and it works.

Every time.

Reason #10

S. quickly picks up on what will drive you craziest, and capitalizes on it. She will kiss everyone in the house (Today she was kissing the daddy in Hop on Pop because he'd had a bad day) except Daddy, unless she REALLY wants something from him, because that drives him up the wall. With Grandma Kathie, it's refusing to say "Grandma". So, in the car the other day...

S: Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.
   Mommy, Mommy, Mommy.
   Gamma, Gamma, Gamma.

Grandma, excited: You said Grandma!

S: OOPS!
   Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.
   Mommy, Mommy, Mommy.
   Daddy, Daddy, Daddy...

Garden Update

 Funny thing happens when you, say, have a baby, and ignore your garden for a week or so - especially when it (finally) rains all that week:



Holy Swiss Chard, Batman!

Wow! That's a lot of green!

This is ONE tomato plant and a few watermelon vines (Christopher's garden). There were other plants at one point, but these, as you can see, have kind of taken over.

So, what's going on with the beans/yellow squash? Have they enjoyed the rain also?

I guess that would be a "yes". Perhaps we shouldn't have watched "Attack of the Killer Tomatoes" yesterday.

Actually, we harvested our first yellow squash this morning.

Side story: she liked it so much, she wanted to play with it. Mean old Mommy wouldn't let her. So she bit me on the knee! Then looked up at me with an expression of, "So what are you going to do about it?" I gave her a one-minute time-out, sitting on the floor in front of the sofa. Oh, the tears! The heart-broken sobs! The stifled laughter (the latter would be from M. and I). Then we talked about how naughty that was, and said sorry and I love you, and two seconds later she was asking to play with the squash again.

So, will there be other yellow squash to fight over?

This looks promising.



This looks...different...



This...isn't even a squash.



Let's face it, folks, I have no idea what's growing in this garden.

Wait...what's that? Creeping up above the squash plants? Is it....no...can't be...

BEANS!!!  With bugs on them. Don't care.

And then we have these guys. They were not found in my garden, were not released anywhere near my garden, and really have nothing to do with my garden - but aren't they cute? Very tame, too - someone has been feeding them, which has made them a nuisance to other people, which is why Daddy was called to trap them. Don't worry, though, they have already been relocated somewhere more appropriate, together and unharmed (except for the minor trauma of having been brought to the house first, and probably fearing they would have to live near my scary children. And be fed squash.)