tomorrow is FRIDAY

This girl is very, very mobile this week. Today she crawled from her safe little blanket in the family room out to the kitchen--just where a person wants a precious, beautiful baby, right? Going around the dirty floors.

(Stay on your blanket, p.j.)

No.

Boring on the blanket.

She was almost to the dog water when I spotted her and put her back in the family room. b.g. was interested. He was in the high chair then and asked me where she went? At that point, she was underneath the high chair. He found that funny, leaning to peer over.

The pajamas Heidi brought her in were old ones Lydia and Julia wore. They're some kind of fuzzy, soft polyester, warm and lovely. Except they function exactly like some kind of swiffer suit.

Aaagh. Unwelcome. Gorgeous, friendly baby looking like a dustmop? Ugh.

She fell asleep in my arms later, and her noodley neck, and the weight of her head in my hand, her long legs sprawled across my lap was all too much. I put my nose in her neck and wished this moment could last forever.

Okay, here he is--while p.j. was sleeping, I wrapped him up for a nap and we both slept on the big red couch--me for almost an hour, him for a while longer.

Here he's escaped to the yard after his nap. It was cold today, with a stiff wind, and he was undoubtedly in a wet diaper.

I wanted him to come inside.

But how to get him in without any drama, the dragging of his flailing body and hollering?

Hmm.

I yelled out the door, "b.g.! Time to come inside! We're ready for Moo Jr.s!"

(A Moo Jr. is ice cream on a stick with a chocolate coating.)

He ran straight into the house.

It reminded me of last spring when John wanted t.c. to use the bathroom before they went somewhere, and the kid was hollering about it.

I said, "Go potty and I'll pay you a buck. I'll give you a dollar."

He stared at me for a second, surprised, then ran into the bathroom.

I paid him. Peace prevailed.

Kids are crazy.

As he ate his Moo Jr. I changed his diaper while he stood there. (I did cloth for 8 kids. How I love disposables, with their velcro.) After I had the diaper taped and was trying to tug his blue jeans up again I teased him, "Can I have a bite?"

He frowned, "No, no, Gramma," and tucked the Moo Jr. behind his back.

And this fine video is of the kids fighting. I found it on my camera tonight. (Nobody asks, they just help themselves. grrr. As long as they BRING IT BACK, it's okay.)

Tim makes definite attempts to help her, but she's such an easy target, and she gets so outraged so easily.

What-ever, right?




Tomorrow is Friday and I have a list that seems a bit ambitious considering it's me, and now it's the end of Thursday and time to go to bed. love, Val