It's European!

My Precious and I went on a Rock Hill adventure this past weekend (sans Daddy, unfortunately). We got to hang out with my college suite mate, Georgia, and her darling Spartacus. Then we got a full day with my Nana and Papa, my mom (new Nana) and all my dear Sanderson family. Andrew had a blast running back and forth to his Ashton, playing peek-a-boo with his cousin Brent and making sure everyone else was admiring him at all times.

Georgia sent me a package a couple weeks ago that contained an adorable pair of sandals that Spartacus recently outgrew. Andrew adores these sandals, so instead of the tears I brought forth when trying on shoes a month ago, I often find him doing his best to get these on himself. If they are in view, they must be worn! This happened during some post-bath-naked-time and, sorry Jeff, but I just couldn't help myself ... the memory had to be captured.

I got in the mood to blend something the other day and homemade whipped cream fit the bill. My Sweet Scooter gave me a hand licking the beater.

And Phil and I got to go to the American Idol show as guests of Chris Sligh - how cool is that!?

I think we're going to make this picture our Christmas Card this year. "Season's Greetings from Phil, Christy, David, Mary and Sanjaya!" Be on the lookout ....

Don't Go Down Homely In The Afternoon

My Precious had his very first bubble bath yesterday. Though he's looking quite cheery in the photo, he didn't think much of it. He quickly scooted to the far end of the tub, putting as much distance between himself and the congregating bubbles as possible. Then he'd warily poke at them with a finger. It amused me.

Andrew has also decided that his sweet bicks were meant to be free and can pull the tabs loose from his diaper as quick as a wink, thus our evening wambones selection has evolved to include shorts. The extra layer has kept his wily fingers from grasping the tabs, and it looks pretty hip, too!

And finally, our poltergeist is really starting to mess with my head. His name is Mortimer Ichabod and he's lived here with us for years. I'm totally used to him ringing the doorbell - doesn't phase me at all anymore. I also don't care that he finds great delight in turning on my over overhead bedroom light, though I did call the police the first time he did it. (I came home late , and you have to use a remote to turn the stupid thing on, which I knew - and continue to know - I hadn't done.)

Well now he's gone and taken my Blockbuster rental. I was all psyched up to watch something other than football with Phil on Sunday night, so after a sweltering visit to the park we swung by Blockbuster then came directly home. I fed TCBITW and put him to bed then got all situated on the couch ready for the fun to begin. No fun. DVD gone. Searched the entire van (yes, I drive a van - I'll explain another time). Looked everywhere in the house including, but not limited to, the freezer, behind the stove, the linen closet, under the couch cushions and the dryer. I really hope Mortimer enjoys season 1 of The Office and sees fit to return it to me before it's due back.

Homogenize The World Mochaccino Land

Oh my goodness, do I have a busy boy! Climbing up into things (like the refrigerator and dishwasher) are new favorite activities, as is WALKING! (see video below) My Precious has also dropped his morning nap, so we have even more time for said activities. I think I may look into a zoo membership or pass to the Stone Mt. Park as the weather becomes more friendly for out-of-doors sorts of things. His Royal Cuteness seems to be really enjoying taking his show on the road.


It has just been in the last few days that Andrew has really taken off with the walking. Now he can just stand up in the middle of the floor and take a turn about the room, falling on the sweet bickies after a bit. Occasionally he will careen off to one side and go down head first, and it is this that causes me to hover over him still and wish all my furniture was made of bubbles.

To protect the precious tootsies, I went to Evil Target to exchange some wonderful-but-too-large shoes he got for his birthday (he has wee baby feet). These shoes are a brand only sold in Evil Target stores and I only wanted to get a different size but was prevented from doing so because I had "exceeded my allowance for non-receipt exchanges." What a stupid store. I am considering doing the unthinkable ... getting my Targetesque items from that other place (I can't bring myself to write it out, but it rhymes with Paul Glart.) And, yes, my local Paul Glart is a bit ghetto, but it's cheap and they haven't angered me lately.

And now sit down, inhale deeply and just take in his fabulousness.