At Least We Know The Prosthetic Squirrel Hips Work

Our beloved friends the Peabodys are coming home today from Memphis! Joseph has finished his radiation treatments, and thus we get to enjoy having them near once again. Andrew decided this called for his most extensive art project to-date.

The Precious was permitted to use a real marker for the first time, which was big fun. I stood by with a wet paper towel to wipe up the stray marks from the floor, but he actually did quite well.

Andrew then explored his space with stickers. Another first.

Here's some video of the sticker learning curve:

For some adorable, toddlery reason he felt the need to kiss the poster. Many times.

And the artist with his completed creation.

This is what was happening behind me as I worked to un-tape the project from the floor ....

Spine Spider, How Was Your Vacation?

We had some crazy nap hair a couple days ago that just had to be captured.

Then The Precious had his very first play dough experience. I made it myself while he was developing the crazy nap hair - dyed it blue and everything!

I was feeling quite Martha Stuartish (with a dash of Little House on the Prairie) while stirring a pot of homemade play dough on the stove. I really can't believe it worked. I dumped the first pot - gave up on it too soon, I think, as apparently it prefers to start out a soupy, lumpy mess before magically transforming into a ball of doughy fun.

I guess I subconsciously felt life at home (as opposed to constant travel to exotic locations) was too boring for me, so I decided to lock TCBITW in the car while at Kroger. He was playing with my keys as I unloaded the groceries and I noticed the car (van ... whatever) was doing the little honk thing it does when you lock it. Clearly this did not fully process - it processed only to the point where I figured I should take the keys away. And throw them in the front seat. And close Andrew's door.

The Lord is so gracious to allow me to be an idiot in February, and while Phil was not traveling. He (Phil ... not the Lord) was able to jump into the car right away and come rescue us with an extra set of keys. My mom stayed on the phone with me while we waited so that I wouldn't freak out, and we discussed what I should use to shatter a window if, say, Andrew started choking, or if I decide to do this again in August. My tennis shoe, we determined, was of no use, and the parking lot was terribly low on baseball bats that day. We then pondered what level of adrenaline it would take for me to hurl a shopping cart through the windshield.

As exciting and dramatic as that would have been for all the nursing home residents buying groceries that day (and there were a few), I'm happy to report that no windshield smashing was required. For the most part, Andrew waited contentedly. It was comfortably warm in the car and he liked the game of Mommy hiding out of his view, then suddenly appearing at his window making strange faces. Every once in a while I'd see him look somewhat stricken, wave, and mouth "bye-bye?", which was sad, but no tears or hysteria from either of us.

Brooke, I thought of you several times throughout the ordeal. Not exactly your fear of passing out after strapping your babies in the car ... but close enough to bring you to mind. :-)

Do Not Jump On Fanny Lifter

And we're back! Again. Phil was practically on death's door the night before our flight, but was able to actually sit up and take some steps unassisted by the next morning, so we decided to go for it. He had the flu the whole time we were there (and is still hacking up a storm in bed behind me as I type), so that put a bit of a damper on things. But other than that, our trip was great!

As you can see in the top picture, Andrew just adores his Nannie and ate up all the attention and fun activities. Look at her - who wouldn't have fun with this chick?


The scenery was breathtaking. I confess I didn't think I'd like it all that much, being a big fan of trees and all, but the wide open spaces surrounded by snow-capped mountains were incredible. Here's a picture I took from the window of the car as we were heading out of town. Of course, it doesn't near do it justice. The clouds hide the beautiful mountains in the distance.


As I mentioned, Phil was feeling dreadful most of the time. In the middle of our stay, he started to feel better, so naturally he decided to go skiing with his dad. It then came as a complete shock that the following day found him barely able to speak, feverish and slumped pitifully in a recliner sipping luke-warm beverages.


Andrew had a bad runny nose and was working on a molar, but pressed on like a champ. In preparation for a future visit when he, too, might have the opportunity to nearly kill himself on a ski slope, he decided to do a little weight-lifting with Nannie.


And now the triceps ...


Sadly, I don't have the picture of Andrew with the waitress he fell madly in love with (it's on Nannie's camera and I forgot to show her how to e-mail it). The whole scene was hilarious and adorable. Every time this woman walked by, he went completely bonkers, giggling then collapsing over the side of his high chair when she looked at him. When she walked out of sight, he would crane his neck and look forlornly in the direction of her last sighting. Before we left, she gave him 2 toy cars, a hug and a kiss on his left cheek (which he has still not allowed me to wash). I'm not sure what she did initially to catch his eye, but I've never seen him so smitten ...

...though his Nannie comes pretty close.


Here he is after our trip to Santa Fe wearing his new deer-skin moccasins.

And it appears Blogger is finally allowing me to post videos again! Andrew absolutely LOVED this game of jumping on and off this exercise stepper. I think he'd still be doing it if we let him. You'll notice him cutting his eyes back behind him waiting for applause - he was specifically seeking the attention of his Papa. If Papa was in the room, the Precious was doing everything in his power to get a smile from him.

Thank you Nannie and Papa for a wonderful visit! We can't wait to see you again.

Hipster Doofus

Sometimes we like to make crazy faces ... just because.

So this morning, My Preciousness woke up just after 5 am covered in major nasal crustage and feeling like ca ca doody from the most recent church nursery pestilence. Phil woke up with chills and a fever. (Did I mention that we fly out tomorrow morning to visit Phil's parents in New Mexico?) While I was attempting to clean up what some might refer to as an "out of control" kitchen situation, Andrew decided that his breakfast of oatmeal and strawberries was inadequate and went to work on some pancakes (he has figured out how to open the pantry door sans parental assistance). By the time I was able to interveen, Shiloh had gratefully snarfed more Bisquick from the floor than a dog his size really needs. And my hair looks bad.

Sorry - nobody likes a Gloomy Gus. As a tribute to positive thinking, I shall now list some things that didn't happen this morning, but could have:

1. Not a soul came to my door dressed as porkchop and brandishing weapons, demanding all my cash ($.75) and jewelry.

2. Sofie has not been possesed by the devil, and hence has not done anything dasterdly to my personal effects.

3. My sketchy neighbor did not drive his stinky work van into my mailbox, through my yard, or into my living room.

4. The roof squirrels have not figured out how to enter the house via the chimney.

5. The disembodied head that holds my blonde wig has not come to life and zoomed through the air screaming. (I guess this goes back to my fear of spooks, but I have imagined this happening many times. A few days ago I moved the head into the closet, and I've noticed I think about it decidedly less.)

6. No diarrhea from anyone, pets or human folk.

7. This morning's gusty, arctic winds have not (yet) knocked over the house. (This is the first 2-story house I've lived in. When we first moved here, I woke up to howling winds and became totally unglued, convinced that the entire structure would topple. It didn't.)

8. Not a single appliance has smoked, buzzed, frothed or exploded.

9. I have not gotten a call from the Fraternal Order of Police telling me if I don't donate a lot of money, none of my local policemen will be able to afford bullet-proof-vests and will probably be gunned down immediately, die a gruesome death protecting me from my sketchy neighbor, and it will be on my head.

10. Andrew has done nothing requiring the involvement of ipecac, the fire extinguisher, the emergency room, the bath tub, or angry mommy eyebrows.

So this has actually been a rather fantastic morning. Nannie and Papa, we are so excited to see you!

Here They Are, Great Big Extra-Large Underwear!

Andrew really enjoys playing around in my closet these days, and every time he comes out wearing this particular pair of shoes on his hands. They were a gift from Nannie - they are slip-ons and super warm and fuzzy on the inside, so they make perfect mittens (especially when real mittens and mommy's socks aren't available).

Conscious that Atlanta traffic is terrible and our air-quality is less than desirable, Andrew has opted to work from home most days. Here he is setting up an important business meeting on Phil's Blackberry - in his wambones, no less! Another bonus.

Sometimes the phone makes it over the ear, and sometimes it's just more fun to hold it on the back of the head.

We bought The Precious his first Bible about a month ago and have started reading a passage from it every morning during breakfast. During the reading, he's often desperate to grab at the pretty book with oatmeal-covered fingers, and after we're done, he gives us an "agee!" One might assume that he would do the same thing if we were reading the ingredient list from the back of a Pop-Tarts box, but deep down I think we all know that it's because he's spiritual beyond his years and really can't wait to find out what happens with Jacob and Esau. Now, we won't go comparing him to Eowyn's daughter or Ami's daughter (who are probably, at this moment, sharing their most recent insights on the minor prophets with their respective playgroups), but I will say that it warms me when he reaches out for our hands when we go to pray.

Here's a shot of Andrew focusing intently on Phil during the devotional (yes, that is cheap-o Carnation Instant Breakfast around his mouth - he loves it.) I've decided to just let you all discuss amongst yourselves whether or not Phil is wearing anything other than a t-shirt.

Inebriated Newt Fancier

I've been encouraged by dear friend and fellow blogger Emily to disclose 5 of my wierdnesses to the general public. So here we go ....

#1. I'm big into wigs. The one you see featured in this episode was a gift for my 30th birthday from friend and kindred spirit Heather Jacobs, who shares my dream of owning a gray-haired number to go grocery shopping in (something I saw on Darma & Greg ages ago and thought was mighty fabulous). I still need to pick out hers so we can shop together.

#2. Apparently I'm afraid of ghosts and other monstery things. Whenever I'm alone and about to enter a dark room, I find myself contemplating the likelihood that some sort of menacing and other-worldly creature is waiting for me on the other side. I then take a few moments to plan out exactly what I'd do if this was the case. So far I've only come up with screaming and running away.

#3. Refrigerator karma is important to me. I can quite easily ignore frightening stains on the carpet, wear the same pants all week and write loving messages to Phil in the dust on his dresser, but heaven forbid the milk carton leave residue on the refrigerator shelf! Each item has its home and should be turned with the label facing outward. I will eat something I don't want merely because it is asthetically displeasing, and I have actually been known to visit friends and throw away a high percentage of their refrigerator content when they aren't looking because it's bothering me.

#4. I loved being pregnant. I loved feeling him move, wearing maternity clothes, having people ask me questions (so long as they weren't angered by my answers) and touch my stomach (except when I was only a few weeks along - then it was a little strange). I loved my growing tummy, which is a good thing since I ended up being big as a house, and thus handled people's insensitive remarks pretty well. (My personal favorite was when a non-pregnant stranger followed me around telling me over and over how good I made her look. "I mean, I may need to lose weight, but when I stand next to you I look fabulous!")

#5. I am appallingly ignorant. I really don't know much about anything at all, but I'm especially deficient in the areas of current events, music, literature, history, spelling, geography, sports, mathematics and anything to do with names, dates, direction or politics. Um, perhaps an example would help. So many to choose from ... oh! Phil called me recently, excited to share that Tony Blair was going to be a speaker at a conference he was attending. My actual response: "You mean like from that witch project thing?" Come to find out that Tony Blair was rather an important chap, and in no way because of a witch project. Phil has on several occasions suggested I take one of those on-line IQ tests. I don't think so. I prefer Mr. 1560 on the SAT not to have actual documentation that his wife has the IQ of a spatula.