This evening Daddy set out to make a mockery of knot tying by rehaning the baby swing in the tree. I had asked him to do it so that the swing was more secure... I was just expecting the boy scout in him to have a better rig. But anyway, as soon as he was done and wanted Billy to try it out, Billy lost interest and ran out to the front yard.
I thought he wanted to see the BeepBeeps. Nope. Those are boring today. Let's chase shadows! He ran down the sidewalk screaming "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!" after his own shadow. When he was done he turned around and ran back the other way. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!" Down the hill. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!" Around the bend. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" Back up the hill. "Aaaaaa..." Oh, wait. Mommy pick me up, running up the hill sucks.
Yeah, right. Running up the hill is no problem at all. I can do it barefoot with a 25 pound weight strapped to me. And I did.
The moral of the story? Don't chase your shadow if you can't run back up the hill. :P
Friday, April 20, 2012
Thursday, April 19, 2012
April 19, 2012 ~ Prehistoric Baby
How is it possible that men are born like cavemen? Is it really ingrained? Even Daddy for all of his education and worldliness has a man cave where he goes to do battle with computerized foes. Are we just cave people walking around in suits and heels?
So there I am this morning dropping Billy off at daycare. It's the usual toddler chaos. Here I think that he's going to play with the BeepBeeps on the floor. Instead he runs over to a cute little girl on the other side of the room. She's just standing there. Now, in my head I see this going down: he runs up, does the cute little foot shuffle and then maybe offers a toy or says "hay-yo!" It would be so cute, wouldn't it?
So what does Billy do?
He runs over to that cute little girl in her pigtails and punches her right in the chest. She just stands there deciding whether or not to cry. I, or course, run over and scold him. Seriously? Seriously. So, then I tell him to go over and apologize. So he runs up and gives her a big hug. I'm pretty sure he engineered the whole event just to get to the hugging part.
And here I am imagining Billy's ancestor 40,000 years ago wandering through the woods of Europe. Ooh, he spots a cave woman walking along in her very sexy ill-fitting animal skins. He walk up to her. "You pretty. Me like you." Crash! He whacks her over the head and then drags her off to his favorite cave to make him mammoth stew and raise his brood of cave babies.
We all knew that kid on the playground that would pull a girl's hair to get her attention. I was just hoping that wasn't MY kid.
So there I am this morning dropping Billy off at daycare. It's the usual toddler chaos. Here I think that he's going to play with the BeepBeeps on the floor. Instead he runs over to a cute little girl on the other side of the room. She's just standing there. Now, in my head I see this going down: he runs up, does the cute little foot shuffle and then maybe offers a toy or says "hay-yo!" It would be so cute, wouldn't it?
So what does Billy do?
He runs over to that cute little girl in her pigtails and punches her right in the chest. She just stands there deciding whether or not to cry. I, or course, run over and scold him. Seriously? Seriously. So, then I tell him to go over and apologize. So he runs up and gives her a big hug. I'm pretty sure he engineered the whole event just to get to the hugging part.
And here I am imagining Billy's ancestor 40,000 years ago wandering through the woods of Europe. Ooh, he spots a cave woman walking along in her very sexy ill-fitting animal skins. He walk up to her. "You pretty. Me like you." Crash! He whacks her over the head and then drags her off to his favorite cave to make him mammoth stew and raise his brood of cave babies.
We all knew that kid on the playground that would pull a girl's hair to get her attention. I was just hoping that wasn't MY kid.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Book Reviews
I'm an avid reader. I usually read a book a week, even with a toddler. Before Billy I usually read two.
So, I'll be leaving my comments over on the discussion board after I finish each book. Sorry, I don't often get to the NYT list books that are current. I read everything from modern mysteries to historical romance.
I just posted my thoughts on Wicked. Stay tuned for more posts on the Hunger Games Trilogy, Don't Let's Go To the Dogs Tonight, We Bought A Zoo, Water For Elephants, Sarah's Key and the other dozen or so books I've read this year.
My comments are on the discussion board, located here:
discussion board
So, I'll be leaving my comments over on the discussion board after I finish each book. Sorry, I don't often get to the NYT list books that are current. I read everything from modern mysteries to historical romance.
I just posted my thoughts on Wicked. Stay tuned for more posts on the Hunger Games Trilogy, Don't Let's Go To the Dogs Tonight, We Bought A Zoo, Water For Elephants, Sarah's Key and the other dozen or so books I've read this year.
My comments are on the discussion board, located here:
discussion board
April 17, 2012 ~ Baby's got a new pair of shoes
Yep. New shoes. Sorry, no pics yet.
Inevitably, Billy has changed size again. This time he changed shoe size, clothing size and diaper size all at once. It's a cornucopia of new things around here. Like the new outfit from yesterday (see yesterday's post).
I swear, every time I turn around the kid has outgrown something. I'm always ripping clothes off of him because they are too small, even though they fit yesterday before I washed them and the zillion times before that. And of course, once it's ripped off and tossed into the "Don't Fit" pile (read: entire floor of his closet) he starts screaming and running around madly wanting to put the too tight clothes back on. Sometimes, he wins and goes to school with his belly hanging out like he's nine months preggo. Then I wash them and hide them before he freaks out again.
So today we introduced new shoes. These are shoes to make Pierce S. proud. (If you don't know who that is, then you're not my cousin.) Red plaid with navy blue accents. I can't describe men's shoes. So I'm probably making them sound crappy when they're super cute.
Anyways, he wanted to go "oush-shide" and was carrying around his old shoes. I had his socks. I broke open the new box of shoes. Ooooooooooooooooooooh! Quickly he chucks his old shoes over his shoulder. So yesterday. We sit down and I put them on. More oooooooooooooooohs! Immediately, he has to try them out.
Smack. Smack. Smack. I have a vision of a clown stomping. They're so big. He's so small! (In a not-so-much-anymore kind of way).
Ok, imagine you're one. You've got new shoes. What do you do? Clearly, the first thing to do is smack smack over to your old shoes and... stomp on them! Take that, too small shoes! Ha! And that! "Ok, Billy, enough shoe carnage." Wait, they're still twitching. A few more stomps for good measure. Alright, got 'em!
And now the question for the day: put those old shoes (now dead and mangled thanks to a thorough toddlering) in the "Don't Fit" pile or in the trash pile. Hmm.
Oh yeah, and when I tried to take the shoes off at the end of the day? Massive tantrum. Tears. "Noooooooooooooooo! Shoooooooooooooooes! Miiine!"
I think he likes them. Glass slipper? ruby slippers? Nope. Plaid shoes.
Inevitably, Billy has changed size again. This time he changed shoe size, clothing size and diaper size all at once. It's a cornucopia of new things around here. Like the new outfit from yesterday (see yesterday's post).
I swear, every time I turn around the kid has outgrown something. I'm always ripping clothes off of him because they are too small, even though they fit yesterday before I washed them and the zillion times before that. And of course, once it's ripped off and tossed into the "Don't Fit" pile (read: entire floor of his closet) he starts screaming and running around madly wanting to put the too tight clothes back on. Sometimes, he wins and goes to school with his belly hanging out like he's nine months preggo. Then I wash them and hide them before he freaks out again.
So today we introduced new shoes. These are shoes to make Pierce S. proud. (If you don't know who that is, then you're not my cousin.) Red plaid with navy blue accents. I can't describe men's shoes. So I'm probably making them sound crappy when they're super cute.
Anyways, he wanted to go "oush-shide" and was carrying around his old shoes. I had his socks. I broke open the new box of shoes. Ooooooooooooooooooooh! Quickly he chucks his old shoes over his shoulder. So yesterday. We sit down and I put them on. More oooooooooooooooohs! Immediately, he has to try them out.
Smack. Smack. Smack. I have a vision of a clown stomping. They're so big. He's so small! (In a not-so-much-anymore kind of way).
Ok, imagine you're one. You've got new shoes. What do you do? Clearly, the first thing to do is smack smack over to your old shoes and... stomp on them! Take that, too small shoes! Ha! And that! "Ok, Billy, enough shoe carnage." Wait, they're still twitching. A few more stomps for good measure. Alright, got 'em!
And now the question for the day: put those old shoes (now dead and mangled thanks to a thorough toddlering) in the "Don't Fit" pile or in the trash pile. Hmm.
Oh yeah, and when I tried to take the shoes off at the end of the day? Massive tantrum. Tears. "Noooooooooooooooo! Shoooooooooooooooes! Miiine!"
I think he likes them. Glass slipper? ruby slippers? Nope. Plaid shoes.
April 16, 2012 ~ Going Carters Cute
First off, a big super duper thank you with an extra dose of awesomeness to Grandma. She rocks. It's true.
So, I've been trudging through the wilderness of baby clothes for about a year and a half now, trying to make sense of it all. Every company seems to have different sizes. Styles are completely different. Some clothes are for long babies, some for fat babies, some for short babies. I mean, seriously, what DOES 0-6 months mean? Zero, that oh-so-cute-I'm-a-week-old-and weigh-7-pounds. Versus 6 months old, which could mean 15-20 pounds. The best I've seen is the 0-12 month size. I think they just couldn't figure out what size baby would fit into that and shot for the moon. I'm going to go out on a limb here- clothes for a newborn aren't going to fit a one-year-old. At least, in my world. Maybe baby clothes manufacturers live in a different reality.
So, here's my plug for my favorite brand. They have always fit Billy in the age range suggested (when you know how to read it aka 3months= 0-3 months). Are super cute. And while pricey sometimes, I'm always able to come up with a bargain. Let's face it: Billy looks cutest in Carters. Oh, and I'm not being paid to say it either.
So, I've been trudging through the wilderness of baby clothes for about a year and a half now, trying to make sense of it all. Every company seems to have different sizes. Styles are completely different. Some clothes are for long babies, some for fat babies, some for short babies. I mean, seriously, what DOES 0-6 months mean? Zero, that oh-so-cute-I'm-a-week-old-and weigh-7-pounds. Versus 6 months old, which could mean 15-20 pounds. The best I've seen is the 0-12 month size. I think they just couldn't figure out what size baby would fit into that and shot for the moon. I'm going to go out on a limb here- clothes for a newborn aren't going to fit a one-year-old. At least, in my world. Maybe baby clothes manufacturers live in a different reality.
So, here's my plug for my favorite brand. They have always fit Billy in the age range suggested (when you know how to read it aka 3months= 0-3 months). Are super cute. And while pricey sometimes, I'm always able to come up with a bargain. Let's face it: Billy looks cutest in Carters. Oh, and I'm not being paid to say it either.
 |
| Mommy's little fan |
 |
| Cutest. Hat. Ever. |
 |
| My favorite onsie of all time. |
 |
| 28, as in the year he'll graduate high school... |
 |
| Love this dinosaur shirt. And who doesn't love plaid pants? |
 |
| Rockin the Carters |
 |
| today |
 |
| today |
Now, we've had plenty of other cute clothes from other companies. But after the cuteness of today's new outfit, you have to admit, sometimes it's worth going Carters cute.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
April 15, 2012 ~ When Billy goes missing...
Every weekend Daddy and I take turns on who gets to sleep in. This morning was my turn. Since Billy will usually break down the door to get to me, Daddy decided to take him out for breakfast around 9:30. Awesome, I get quiet and I get to sleep in. What more can a girl want?
I got up, made myself some french toast and coffee and ate breakfast out on the porch with my book. It was warm, there was a nice breeze and I was uninterrupted. I was apparently sitting still enough that I got to see a badger wander through the yard (Buddy, you're a terrible guard dog!) and a red-headed woodpecker was only a few feet from me (don't peck on my house, you gorgeous bird!) It was a lovely morning.
But, I really can't sit still all that long. I opened up all of the windows, cranked the stereo and started cleaning the house from top to bottom. It's hard to clean with a Billy around- takes twice as long- but I was cranking through the chores. Even got two loads of laundry done.
By now it was Billy's naptime. "Huh...where are my guys?" I thought. But Daddy isn't good with time and is probably out running an errand or looking at tools in the hardware store and not watching the clock. "No biggie." I clean until I'm tired of cleaning. I still need to vacuum, but if Daddy comes in with a sleepy Billy I don't want the noise to jar him awake (and it's happened before). Besides, it's a great excuse to avoid vacuuming. Again.
So I grab my book and go back out to the porch to read more. By now I'm watching the clock. Still no boys. So I call Daddy. No answer. So, I read more, wait a half hour and call again. No answer.
Ok, so now we're overdue for a nap by an hour and a half. So, I start checking around. The big diaper bag is still here. Both strollers? Still here. The trike aka the Green Piece of Awesome? Still here. That's one awfully long breakfast. So I call again. Still no answer.
A cornucopia of emotions and thoughts run through my head as two hours past naptime approaches. Is Daddy a big dork who doesn't have his phone on him? I might have thought something stronger than "dork", but let's keep it classy. Are they ok? What the hell are they doing? Has my baby had a diaper change or slept? Are they in a ditch? Kidnapped by men wearing blue gloves from the Alliance? Ok, probably not that last part.
We had plans for this afternoon, so there's no way Daddy would want to miss out- those were his plans. Where is he? Where is Billy? Why won't they/can't they/don't they answer? I call again. Still nothing.
So, I do the only thing that a grown woman can think to do when her husband and son went out for breakfast and it's nearing dinner. I called my Mom. Grandma talked me off the ledge and then called up Daddy herself. He answered immediately. Grandma never calls him, so if she's calling he picks up.
After breakfast Daddy took Billy to the camping store where he had some money to spend there (only usable at that store). He saw a hiking harness for a baby, thought it was cool and bought it. Then he decided to try it out. So they went hiking. And he got lost on the trail. In the woods. Out of cell phone range. Grandma called when they had just made it back to the car, which was in cell phone range.
So, as it turns out, Daddy is a big dork. Again, I might have used some stronger vocabulary, but I think I just won't mention that string of niceties here. He was stunned that I was worried.
"I thought I'd give you the day off," he said.
"Without telling me? We had plans. How about a phone call. I was worried. It's late."
"What, did you think I ran off with our kid?"
"No, your iPad is still here."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
And we're back to that big dork. It's a good thing he's cute.
So, we did get to our plans later today. Billy got to try fresh squeezed lemonade. His thoughts? "Yummy!" His exact word. And at dinner he also bit me and drew blood during a tantrum.
All in all, a stellar day. But, hey... at least the hives are finally gone!
I got up, made myself some french toast and coffee and ate breakfast out on the porch with my book. It was warm, there was a nice breeze and I was uninterrupted. I was apparently sitting still enough that I got to see a badger wander through the yard (Buddy, you're a terrible guard dog!) and a red-headed woodpecker was only a few feet from me (don't peck on my house, you gorgeous bird!) It was a lovely morning.
But, I really can't sit still all that long. I opened up all of the windows, cranked the stereo and started cleaning the house from top to bottom. It's hard to clean with a Billy around- takes twice as long- but I was cranking through the chores. Even got two loads of laundry done.
By now it was Billy's naptime. "Huh...where are my guys?" I thought. But Daddy isn't good with time and is probably out running an errand or looking at tools in the hardware store and not watching the clock. "No biggie." I clean until I'm tired of cleaning. I still need to vacuum, but if Daddy comes in with a sleepy Billy I don't want the noise to jar him awake (and it's happened before). Besides, it's a great excuse to avoid vacuuming. Again.
So I grab my book and go back out to the porch to read more. By now I'm watching the clock. Still no boys. So I call Daddy. No answer. So, I read more, wait a half hour and call again. No answer.
Ok, so now we're overdue for a nap by an hour and a half. So, I start checking around. The big diaper bag is still here. Both strollers? Still here. The trike aka the Green Piece of Awesome? Still here. That's one awfully long breakfast. So I call again. Still no answer.
A cornucopia of emotions and thoughts run through my head as two hours past naptime approaches. Is Daddy a big dork who doesn't have his phone on him? I might have thought something stronger than "dork", but let's keep it classy. Are they ok? What the hell are they doing? Has my baby had a diaper change or slept? Are they in a ditch? Kidnapped by men wearing blue gloves from the Alliance? Ok, probably not that last part.
We had plans for this afternoon, so there's no way Daddy would want to miss out- those were his plans. Where is he? Where is Billy? Why won't they/can't they/don't they answer? I call again. Still nothing.
So, I do the only thing that a grown woman can think to do when her husband and son went out for breakfast and it's nearing dinner. I called my Mom. Grandma talked me off the ledge and then called up Daddy herself. He answered immediately. Grandma never calls him, so if she's calling he picks up.
After breakfast Daddy took Billy to the camping store where he had some money to spend there (only usable at that store). He saw a hiking harness for a baby, thought it was cool and bought it. Then he decided to try it out. So they went hiking. And he got lost on the trail. In the woods. Out of cell phone range. Grandma called when they had just made it back to the car, which was in cell phone range.
So, as it turns out, Daddy is a big dork. Again, I might have used some stronger vocabulary, but I think I just won't mention that string of niceties here. He was stunned that I was worried.
"I thought I'd give you the day off," he said.
"Without telling me? We had plans. How about a phone call. I was worried. It's late."
"What, did you think I ran off with our kid?"
"No, your iPad is still here."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
And we're back to that big dork. It's a good thing he's cute.
So, we did get to our plans later today. Billy got to try fresh squeezed lemonade. His thoughts? "Yummy!" His exact word. And at dinner he also bit me and drew blood during a tantrum.
All in all, a stellar day. But, hey... at least the hives are finally gone!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)