My Armpits Have Never Liked You

Andrew came up with his Halloween costume all by himself - I'm so excited! Mr. Literal usually doesn't get stuff like that, but when I asked him a few days ago what he'd like to dress up as, he announced cheerfully, "A pig!" He has also declared that Daddy will be a pig like him, Mommy is to be a sheep, and Elsbeth a cow. This is going to be the best Halloween ever.


And the pig noses came in the mail today. I'm giddy.

The Elks Bugling At The Caldera

Food, glorious food! This girly has been eyeing our pancakes and pork chops for some time now, so a few days after her 6 month appointment, I busted out the rice cereal. I think she knows we're holding out on her, though. Rice paste is just a bit anticlimactic as a first food experience when someone has been longing to get in on some brownie action. At this point she still gets more excited about chewing on her washcloth during bath time.

Speaking of the 6 month appointment, the doctor walked in, took one look at her and exclaimed, "She looks like a 9 month old!" :-) She weighed in at 17 lbs. 4 oz. (75th - 90th percentile) and checked out beautifully. She even blew some raspberries at the doctor for extra credit.

Andrew has been having fun with the skads of tree frogs that love our house. This little guy was vacationing with a friend on the sandy beach of his sandbox. I went to water the plants the other day and one had wedged himself in the spout. It makes me happy - I love tree frogs! The bright green skin, the sticky feet, the eating of the bugs ... what's not to love? I just hope Uncle Mark won't avoid us like the plague.



Yesterday we had a fabulous family outing to Southern Belle Farms about an hour outside of Atlanta. I LOVE fall. Even more than tree frogs. And every year I pine for some sort of fall festival experience, and this year I got it. Here we are on a hay ride . . . all together in one shot!



We had to work really hard to convince one of the fat goats to come eat our pellets.


A corn field maze! Sooo cool! Phil and I were a little disturbed to discover we were no better at finding our way through than our 3-year-old.



My little Els had a good time, too. I think her favorite part was the pig race.

Phil and Andrew on the "cow train."

Andrew declared this slide to be his favorite part of the farm:

And finally, totally unrelated to fall, is my sweet, silly boy who was desperate to wear a pony tail just like mommy.

Hairy Legs Are Your Only Link To Reality

I'm constantly thinking, "No, THIS is my favorite picture ever." I don't know how many favorites one is allowed to have, but my girl in her crocheted hat is on the list. And boy howdy, she can make some awesome faces.

I can't believe she's going to be 6 months old tomorrow. I feel like I just brought her home! She started rolling over a couple weeks ago ... here's a clip of her mad skills. (Disclaimer: I'm posting this video for my mom, and perhaps an auntie or two who haven't yet had the opportunity to see it in person and who want to be updated every time I wipe her wee nose. The rest of you ... both of you ... might find a 2.5 minute video of me waiting for my baby to roll over less than riveting.)

Just so you know, Andrew does occasionally wear pants. I find about 50% of my pictures of him and 75% of the videos show him in his underwear. Every day he begs to run about in his skivvies (or less) and I usually give in at some point in the afternoon.

There's a little park in Decatur that I love, and we met Gillian, Eunice Chantilly and sweet baby Cracka' (who you can see in the background) there last week. This was Elsbeth's first time in a real playground swing - she wore that same concerned expression the whole time (about 30 seconds).


A little while after this picture was taken, Andrew asked to swing in the big kid swing - you know, where you have to hold on? Yeah, well he didn't. He was swinging fine one minute, then fell flat on his back the next. Apparently he just let go! I guess I didn't go over the big kid swing rules in enough detail. Only days later, our playgroup met at a different playground and Andrew fell to the ground while climbing a very tall slide. That fall made my heart stop for a few minutes, but while it could have easily broken his leg (or worse), the only injury I could find was a palm that turned pink from the impact. This won't make sense unless you've seen that slide, but he really should have hit some other (metal) playground equipment on his way to the ground. I envision angels guiding him through the air and allowing him to land softly in the wood chips.


Other than crashing into the ground, Andrew's big news is that he's started taking gymnastics. I had a less than satisfactory experience trying to get him signed up for a class a few months ago (a pox upon the Tucker Rec Center!) and found that the Atlanta School of Gymnastics is actually quite close to us, and as a special bonus, the people there are competent and seem to actually like children. Weird. He's gone to 3 classes now and loves it. It's just him and his buddy Skeezix and his teacher, Miss Amy. Parents aren't allowed out on the floor, and the gym is huge, so I don't have any pictures of him during class yet, but I have many of him gymnastisizing around the house.

Here he has dismantled my couch and built himself some sort of jumping obstacle on top of a chair. He jumped so high I lost the top of his head in the shot. I think this picture really gives you a sense of what it's like to be around this energy-laden gymnast these days.

And let's throw in a hand-stand for good measure. Miss Amy would be proud.