For Grandpa Bruce

A belated Memorial Day post. So many memories.

O!

M.D., you may be right. But around here we say Clinton Schminton. I think Barack's running mate should be The Rock. Just imagine all the cool campaign slogans with references to geological formations, modern music and general awesomeness.

They would totally win.

Enough political commentary from me. Back to Access Hollywood.

All You Can Eat Mongolian Goodness

There was a date on Friday night, complete with makeup (just me, not Kevin) ridiculous umbrella drink and after-dinner trip to Cheapo. It was such a rare occurrence that I took pictures for proof.

(Look! Haley's Comet!)

We stayed out too late, but our sitters were great sports. Our children, however, were less forgiving. Is there nothing that will convince them to sleep past 6:15 am?

Despite the early wake-up call via baby monitor, we seriously need to do this more often. We may even consider a paid babysitter sometime.

Where does one even start looking for one of those, by the way? Is the going rate still $2.50 an hour?

Chance of Storms

A short road trip to Eau Galle Recreation Area today. How much fun could it be to throw things (sticks, rocks, sand, toys) in the water? So much fun, that Noah occupied himself for nearly an hour. So much fun, that he ended up not only soaked from head to toe, but also caked in a thick layer of sand. So much fun, that he threw an enormous tantrum when it was time to go.

He completely lost his mind, which was uncool. Still, it's hard not to laugh just a little at the out-of-control toddler with wet, sand-crusted jeans rolled up at the ankles and sagging well below the diaper line at the waist, no shirt (discarded because it was too wet) and bits of beach in his belly button.

The second tantrum came when he woke up in his car seat in the garage at home; he passed out twenty seconds after leaving the park. The third came around dinnertime when he was refused a meal consisting exclusively of feta cheese.

After that, I lost track.

Some days two is more terrible than others.

Spotless Mind

Sleep deprivation is an interesting thing. There are days following sleepless nights when I am conscious of the bits of reality that I'm missing out on.

Did Noah take his vitamins this morning?
Where did I park my car and who remembers what it looks like?
Did we miss a doctor's appointment yesterday?

Then there are days when I feel like I'm well-rested, fully present in the world, participating at my full capacity. Until it is pointed out to me that, in fact, I am not.

Noah's teacher: "Please don't forget Noah's sleeping bag next week." (he doesn't sleep well in foreign bags, apparently)
Daycare center director, via phonecall, 10 minutes after we'd left: "Did you notice that you left the kids' jackets and backpack in the driveway on your way out?" (at least it wasn't one of the kids)

More caffeine must be the answer.

Weather Vanes

Is it too much to hope that maybe, just maybe it's safe to put the boots away now?

You Better Run

Giant Baby

We added Teddy Bear Park to our playground collection today. It has Astroturf in place of real grass, but it may still make it into this summer's regular park rotation.

Perspective

The only other blogs I regularly read are those of friends. I'll be honest - I'm in it for the cute baby pictures (and some political commentary, Moondog).

The exception is this blog, which I was led to via a random email from a friend. The story is tragic, even for someone whose career deals in a modest amount of tragedy. The writing and the photos are beautiful, making it all the more heartbreaking. After my first visit, I cried for days. I still tune in almost daily to offer telepathic support and to remind myself that I might truly be the luckiest person on Earth.

Slicked Back and Parted After Bathtime

I Love a Baby in Blue Jeans

Lunchtime Deconstructionist

Add to the list of words I never imagined I would have heard coming out of my own mouth, "No, you may not put food in Mom's shoes."

The odds are good that I will slide my feet into bits of Progresso Vegetable Soup tomorrow.

Don't Call Her Handsome

Swinging Is Fabulous

I don't generally like the idea of an uncomfortable band of elastic around my baby's head, but it is cute sometimes.  It also keeps her from being mistaken for a boy in public places.  I'm considering having her ears pierced as well.  No?

Many more windswept photos from Mother's Day at Homeward Hills Park here.