Washington Bound

Last time I took off on a jet plane I was with these two goofballs:

And I'm going to miss them like crazy when I leave tomorrow.  Especially the Hubs' stellar airport navigating skills.  Am I the only one who gets a tight throat and sweaty palms at the thought of finding the gate for my connecting flight?  The time constraint, the need for a bathroom break between stops (I have a love for in-flight Cokes and some serious reservations about using a toilet 10,000 feet up in the air. Its a bad combination), the incessant voice in the ceiling asking you all these questions about your bags and who's touched them, and all while you're still halfway across the airport from the plane that's suppose to take you to your final destination....its enough to send a girl into a fit of hives.  

I'm always a basket case before I fly, and having the Hubs there to lead the way takes a good amount of the crazies away, but they are FULL BLOWN today folks, because tomorrow homegirl will be flying solo.  

(Appropriately, Newbie is shouting "DOC-TOR!" at the top of his lungs over my shoulder as I write this.  Has he picked up on his mother's pre-flight condition?! )

Despite having clammy hands over navigating the airport tomorrow, I'm looking forward to a weekend retreat across the country to talk about my sweet Jubi girl and hear from other women who have been there.  Or maybe just hug them.  I'm not kidding, if all we did all weekend was hug, I'd be cool with it.   Because there's just something about women who have been there.  They are kinda my heroes, and I'm looking forward to spending the weekend with them....even if I don't know who they are yet. =)  

Leaving this little bug and his daddy isn't easy, and traveling alone isn't my best game, but I've got a stack of books, a pack of gum, and a box of granola bars that are telling me you're gonna make it, kid.  And I think they might be onto something.

I'm so thankful for this opportunity to visit the west coast and spend the weekend with a wonderful woman (can't wait, Aunt Janet!!!) and a group of ladies who know. whats. up.

Washington, here I come!

(Hey, Champ.  I'm going to miss you!)

Happy weekending, friends!

The Pumpkin Bomb

Newbie and I visited the "punt-kin patch" today and brought home two wagon loads of pumpkins, several bags of gourds, and a bundle of cornstalks.  The Pumpkin Lady knows how to work a bargain, and she done hooked us up again this year.  

High on the fumes of cornstalks and acorn squash, we may have squeezed in a trip to our favorite orchard/donut/cider spot on the way home.  Because there's no such thing as too much autumn fun in one day. 

We also may have splurged the extra 99 cents on the plastic apple sippy cup.  (FYI: cider tastes better coming from a plastic apple.)  

And we may have snagged a dozen pumpkin donuts with cream cheese icing.  

Newbie may have challenged my loyalty to the pumpkin donut with cream cheese icing when he ordered a caramel apple crisp donut.  What. was. happening?! 

Its entirely possible that, after recovering from my son's obscure choice in fall donut-age, we left the orchard and used the donut plunder to Pumpkin Bomb my sister's house on our way home.  We probably ding-dong ditched her with a coupla donuts and a cornstalk.   Then we probably did the whole thing over again at my mom's.

Pumpkin Bombing was fall-tastic, baby.

Got laundry to do?  Go Pumpkin Bomb someone. Its way more fun. ;)

(Grandma and G-Pa, you're next.  When we get more donuts.  Because we ran out. They don't last long under my watch.... have you had those things?!?)

Happy Tuesday!

Of another run and gypsies

I went for another run today, and I have never been more excited to be interrupted.  Someone hollered at me from a driveway halfway through my run.  She caught me on the front end of my run which is the only reason I can fathom why she shouted, "You're inspiring me!" The front end of the run always looks better than the back end because you're not yet being pulled by the jogger stroller- at the beginning it still looks like you are in control.  When I heard her I yelled back "don't be too inspired- its only my third run in four months! [huff, puff, huff, puff]" and then upon further scrutiny, I realized she looked familiar, and I stopped to tell her so.

Which was awesome because we spent ten minutes figuring out how we knew each other (from a long term sub job three years ago) and that was ten minutes off my run that I couldn't get back because I had to make lunch and get Newbie down for a nap.

So like I said, don't be too inspired. =)

But a twenty minute run is longer than a zero minute run, so I'm counting it as progress.  At one point during the run, when I was feeling particularly gumpy and sluggish, I remembered that quote from Pinterest that says, "no matter how slow you're running, you're still going faster than everyone on the couch" and I was all "HECK YES I AM!" and that got me through the last leg of the endeavor and also justified the numerous hours I've spent on Pinterest.  So overall, even cut 10 minutes short, it was a complete win.

***
We had a turn-normal-upside-down weekend: the Hubs spent the weekend on a trip with his dad and uncle up north while Newbie and I spent the weekend as gypsy children.  We spent Friday night with my MIL, Saturday at the mall, and Saturday night at my parents'.  We had a lot of fun family time, but we were happy to be under our own roof with the man of the house again last night.  We had a snuggly evening together, and the little man was the Hubs' constant shadow.  I think he missed his daddy more than just a little bit.

(After dinner I caught them flipping through Cabela's catalogs together- ha!)

Today I find myself on some kind of nesting bender.  I leave for the Love and Loss conference soon (hooray!) and I'm working like mad to get meals planned and laundry done and projects finished before I leave. Going out of town sure makes me productive... maybe I should try it more often. =)

Here's wishing you a snuggly fall Monday!

I went for a run/walk/walk/walk/run?/walk/trip/walk/run

I hit an all-time personal low today in the jean department at the mall.  So naturally, after a fabulously orchestrated pity party and several phone calls to my girlfriends, I went running this afternoon.

When I say "I went running" please read: "I went walking/jogging/stumbling/walking/walking/dying?/walking/jogging/walking". Its never pretty, folks.  And I don't know why I feel like going for a run is some kind of monumental occasion worthy of blogging about, but I guess it just speaks to the lack of excitement over here today.  It was my run or the ten dollar corduroy pants I found for Newbie at Old Navy, and writing about the pants only served to emphasize Newbie's 2T waistline which I'm not really willing to wallow in.  Oh, to be 29 pounds again.  

This afternoon I strapped Newbie into the jogger stroller because there was no way homeboy was going to keep up with me I was going to keep up with him.  Boy has wheels. 

Here we are pre-run.  Clearly, all ambition and no pain.

The jogger stroller has a fabulous speaker feature that I can plug my mp3 player into and it plays my music out loud for Newbie and I (and the neighborhood) to enjoy.  I set it to my Jubilee playlist and we took off.

The warm-up and the first 30 seconds of running to follow weren't bad.  Then things kinda went downhill.

It was brutal.  At one point, I tasted steel and was all "oh my gosh, my lungs are bleeding!" then reasoned, "or maybe the cut in my forehead is bleeding backwards".  Because that can happen.  Running messes with me, man. Seriously.

Turns out it was just a good case of a not-runner lady running. No blood, don't worry.

When we reached the playground, I set Newbie loose to show off what endless energy and endurance looks like, and I enviously slumped onto the bench and drank an ocean of water.  Then I got up and got my squats on.  Because the Hubs works out in the park all the time, and I thought maybe it wasn't as crazy as it sounded.

It was totally as crazy as it sounded.

After three cars drove by, I was 15 squats in and decided to finish up back at the house.  Because quite frankly, I was a little gun shy after the Hubs critiqued my form (at my request) yesterday, and nothing was worth the humiliation.  I told Newbie we had to hit the road or he would have to carry his momma home.

Another interesting feature on the jogger stroller is the wrist strap.  You stick your hand through a looped belt, and the belt is attached to the handles of the stroller- all in case you get into a runaway train situation and need to stop the stroller.  On the way home, my legs were giving out, and I was convinced if I let go of the stroller handles, I would literally flap in the breeze, tethered to Newbie's stroller, banging the concrete like a tin can on the back of a Just Married Volkswagen.  I powered through, but I'm telling you, it was a close one.

When we got back to the house, surprisingly in one piece, we hit the backyard for some down time and five burpees (these horrendous things that require you to lie on the ground then do a push-upish move, then squat, then jump up in the air and then do it all over again and again and again).  I only pounded out five because that's all homegirl had left in her after the near tin-can experience with the jogger.

(The boys fought over twigs while my face melted off.  I was powerless to intervene on account of the post-workout jelly effect- you know, when all extremities turn to jelly and you wonder if you'll ever be able to get yourself up off the ground.) 

And it was all in the name of September and my pull-it-together-Francine.  Because you can only sit inside so long and wish the baby-weight away and the baby back before you realize you're going to have to up and do something about it.  And chocolate doesn't help.  I've already tried that.  ;) 

Another item on my September get-it-together list is meal-planning and dinner serving.  Which means I have to get crackin' because its broccoli cheddar soup tonight, and I'm intensely committed to chopping the broccoli impeccably well because nobody likes a massive chunk of green in their soup.  So its off to the cutting board.

Here's wishing you a happy September Wednesday! 

Of pumpkins and nutmeg and making it count

My home team is making every day a Jubilee day.  Its kind of been our thing since sometime last November, and we perfected it with an Oreo party last February. Its a good time and comes highly recommended by my people. =)

Lately, we've been shouting for joy and making each moment count while we welcome fall:

Football afternoons with Daddy-O...

(They take their football very seriously.)

A pumpkin-studded trip to the gardens this weekend...

(Apparently I already embarrass him...)

(More evidence to file under the embarrassment theory...."enough with the pictures already, Mom!"

Baking pumpkin bread with my sidekick this morning...

(We took these pictures with the remote detonator.  Maybe that's not the real name, but its a remote with one button and it snaps the camera...it feels awfully fancy!  Can you spy the master clicker in this photo? Pssst....its in Newbie's hand.)

(Check out the notch above my eye- the glue came off (tmi alert!), and it already looks sooooo much better than last week!)

(ta-dah!)

And some post-nap outside fun before the autumn rain sent us running inside today...

(Somebody's still a yiddle schweepy!)

(Did you think Opie went off to greener pastures?  He hasn't made a cameo in a while, but he's still very much here!)

Now we're snuggled up in sweatshirts on the couch, Newbie looking over my shoulder, leaning into my arm and making it ridiculously difficult to type while he points and requests that I replay "Winnie the Pooh" by Zooey Deschanel in iTunes in between exclaiming, "yook at me!  I a yiddle baby!" with every picture I pull up to upload.  Lots of "ut dat?" (translation: what's that?) sprinkled in there too...along with the recent declaration: "I need a moo-bee on the tee bee now, Mom."   Uh, not happening.

I lied. Not about the TV, but about the "on the couch".  We're back outside now because the rain has stopped and a little boy wasn't too keen on entertaining himself while Momma finishes her blog post. =)  Sometimes I let "outside" do the work for me...little boys never get tired of the dirt!

Lest you think our Jubilee days are all baking and playing and drinking up every last drop, here's the truth: while I love to make every moment count and find joy in everything, there are always the moments that slip through the cracks, and the home team has far from perfected this new way of living. I'm still wrestling to get a blog post up in the busy of the day, and currently there's no dinner in the oven and the laundry isn't done and I'm not sure if the brown clods I see Newbie carrying in his hands are rocks or.....something else. (eish) Just thought I'd keep it real amidst the flattering snippets of everyday life I shared above.  It ain't all pumpkins and nutmeg, folks! ;)

Good news: I just got a close up and I can confirm that they were indeed rocks.  Phew.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go on backyard patrol because a little curious George is up to no good with the empty fire pit.  I won't tell his daddy if you won't.

Happy Tuesday, friends!

My Map

This morning Newbie helped me make our annual Its Fall Y'all! pumpkin pancakes.

"Mommy, I help.  I do it."

He makes a committed, albeit handsy, assistant chef.  Brother hung in there for the duration of the baking, and was all about trying to mix the batter with his fingers.  "Git yer hands outta there, Honey- that's raw egg, and I can promise you its not gonna taste good."

When I dumped the pumpkin in he declared, "Mmm...dat schmells good to me! Yeah, it does!"

Yes, I laughed my way through the pancake making this year. =)

As soon as the fall-tastic flapjacks were done and he had pulled his daddy out of bed on this rare daddy-gets-to-sleep-in-while-we-make-pancakes Saturday, Newbie jumped right up to his plate. (Being the early bird I am, I'm not super great about letting the Hubs sleep in because HELLO, you're missing all the fun and awesomeness of MORNING! Today was a special treat for the Hubs- sleeping in AND pumpkin pancakes??? What was happening?!)

Shortly after the above pic was taken, the little man got a Cool Whip upgrade:

Then it was coffee time.  Newbie also helped me make the coffee this AM, so naturally he needed his mug with the standard Newbie-portion: four drips of coffee.  

("Mmm-ahh...I lub dis.  I lub dis, man.  I lub it coffee.  I lub dis mug.")

When Opie starts licking the tootsies peeking out through your Yightning McKeen jammies, its a really good time.

(Insert rolling laughter followed by: "Opie yick it my toes!" here.)

It was a slow, lazy Saturday morning for us followed by a slow, lazy Saturday.  Yum.  I relished the ease of today because my mind has been in a thousand places lately.  I've been thinking a lot about our Jubi girl and missing her so, so much. 

Tonight I sat on the couch, thinking about the gaping cut in my forehead and the way I'm watching it work to heal a little bit more each day, slipping back some days, and pressing forward others.  It reminded me of my aching heart and the ebb and flow that comes with healing.  The happy one moment, the hurt the next.  Sometimes it can all be so disorienting- the back and forth between the hurt and the healing. 

In those moments when it gets overwhelming all over again and I can't see the step ahead, I find myself replaying what I know and clinging to what she taught us- replaying it over and over again in my head until it sinks down into my heart and I find my way to the next breath. He is good.  He is faithful. He is love.  Every moment is a gift.  Tell Him thank you. Make every moment count.  Shout for joy to the Lord! Its my map, its my mantra.  Its what I do when I don't know what to do.  Her story, compressed into a small map of the most important parts, like a treasure I keep in my pocket and touch with my fingertips when I get lost to remind me of where I've been and where I'm going.

He is good. 

He is faithful.

He is love.

Every moment is a gift.

Tell Him thank you.

Make every moment count.  

Shout for joy to the Lord!

And when I follow the map, that next breath comes, and my heart starts to beat again, and then my eyes find the way to blink again, and then my feet find the next step, then the next, and I am knowing and thanking and living, really living again.  I am drinking deep and it is well with my soul. 

Drinking deeply of today and wishing you a blessed Sabbath this weekend, friends.

(My precious reminder to drink deep and make each moment count.  This little guy?  Bright-eyed and eager every morning, everything new, all he knows is now, and I adore him for it.)

Something for your Saturday

Its a new day, baby.

Thank God for new days!

We were a little too lazy to pull this off today, but Lord willing, tomorrow will be another new day, and I have a hunch it will be a good day for some pumpkin pancakes. =)

I've had a few friends request this recipe lately because it is fall and this sucker is the beez kneez.  My mom made these for me before I left for college, and I've been making them since I moved out of the house.  When the Hubs spies them on the griddle he goes weak in the knees.  If there's bacon in the microwave, the man's done gone.  The Hubs loves him some bacon and pumpkin pancakes.  Newbie's a big fan too.  If I were stranded on a desert island and could only bring one thing with me, I'd bring pumpkin pancakes.  Maybe not really.  But, then again, maybe.

You just can't go wrong with this recipe.

I'm sorry to say I'm not sure where it originated so I can't give credit where credit is due.  My apologies to the pumpkin genius out there who invented this autumn bombshell.



Here she blows in all her glory:  you'resoverywelcome!

Pumpkin Pancakes

2 cups Bisquick
2 Tablespoons brown sugar
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon allspice
1 1/2 cups evaporated milk
1/2 cup solid packed pumpkin
2 Tablespoons vegetable oil (I use olive)
2 eggs (Remember you can use 1 Tablespoon flax meal and 3 Tablespoons water as an egg substitute!)
1 teaspoon vanilla

Wear a cute apron over your pajamas.

Light an autumn candle.

Make the coffee.  (Let yourself have cream this time if you're on the Bob Harper Skinny Rules plan and have been depriving yourself for the past month.  Today warrants cream.  I won't tell him if you don't.)

Whisk all ingredients together in a mixing bowl.

Pour onto griddle in 1/4 cup plops.

Cook through, then flip.

Serve topped with Cool Whip and a sprinkle of cinnamon.

Tastes best on Saturday mornings.  Just saying.  The Hubs would like to add that bacon completes the meal, but I'd argue that bacon just completes the Hubs and that the pancakes can stand alone in radiance.  Tomato, tomahhhhto.

Here's where I try and dig through the archives to find a picture of these pancakes I'm raving about.  And I totally can't find any pictures because we've switched computers and I'm incompetent.  Which is an absolute buzz kill since I'm posting the recipe.

Instead I found some gems from Newbie's first fall.  And I'm his momma, so there's no way I can end this post without sharing them.  They aren't pumpkin pancakes, but they are equally delicious!

(Babies in diapers on Saturday mornings are the rolliest polliest delight!  If you've got 'em, squeeze 'em!)

(I want to pinch those cheeks. I just pinched the two year old version of them to satisfy the urge.  He was less than impressed.)

(Oh my gosh.  Chubby baby dressed like a puppy and eating leaves?  I'm gone.)

(Newbie: "Yook at me!  Yook at me, I'm wight dere.  I'm wearing a bang-bang ducks shirt!")

Go make you and yours some pancakes, and Happy Weekending!

Keeping it Real.

I'm "shopping" for Jubilee's headstone online today and it sucks.

It really does.

I can't see the screen through the tears, but I'm doing it online because there's only one thing worse than online headstone shopping, and that's in-store headstone shopping.

I have put it off forever because I knew it wouldn't be fun.  I put it off because its a big deal and I haven't had the energy to put into it because I knew it was going to be hard.  I knew it was going to be a challenge to find something that was just for her.

And you know what?  I was right.

Because there's nothing pretty enough or good enough.

Because headstones aren't for babies.

Because you can't fit her story onto a piece of stone.

For all those reasons and a thousand more, its hard.

But we need one.

So its a deep breath, and its eyes closed, and its putting my heart and my hand in His and trusting that somehow, some way, He's going to lead me through it, and we'll pick one and it will be perfect and the tears will turn to peace.

...even there Your hand will guide me,
    Your right hand will hold me fast.

Psalm 139:10

Last Year and Another Note

***update at the bottom of this post

I am remembering today, much like I was last year.

This year is a little different in that I even better understand the truth I wrote one year ago today: "...even in the midst of loss and uncertainty, God is always good and always right and loves us deeper than we will ever know.  "

I didn't know then what I know now- that just a few weeks later I would become pregnant with a precious baby girl whom I'd have to say goodbye to only seven (way-too) short months later.  But the truth is, my experience with Jubilee makes that truth I wrote about this time last year all the sweeter- because now I really know. I've been to the pit and back, and I know God is always good and always right and that He does love us deeper than we'll ever know.  

So I'm remembering today- both September 11 and the truth of God's goodness despite circumstances.  

An enormous thank you to the police men and women, firefighters, service men and women, and others who give so much each day for us and our country.  Thank you thank you thank you from my heart and my home team.

******

On another note, potty training.  

I know, not exactly compatible with this post, but I've gotta document things in real time from this side of the insanity because right now I'm not convinced I'll ever get to the other side.  The diaper-free, accident-free, "I'm a big boy now" side, and if I do, I want to know where we came from, man.  

Because right now, all I want to do is line my house with tarps, curl up in the fetal position, and send his daddy an SOS.  

Potty training is INTENSE.  The timer set for every half hour, continual refills on the apple juice, and a panic-stricken mama any time the well is dry after the timer goes off because hello, TICKING TIME BOMB.  

So far, no accidents, but I'm going to need some chocolate.  Its entirely possible that Mommy ends up giving herself more than one "potty treat" by the time bedtime rolls around tonight because this is some seriously hard work!  I've resolved to stick to it for today and tomorrow and then if we're still fighting the craziness, we'll probably throw in the towel, declare it too soon, and try again in a couple months.  Because honestly more than two or three days of this level of commitment and I'm going to go bonkers.

But we are set up for success. We went all out on the accessories.  Let him pick his own underwear?  Check.  Pixar it is. Buy a couple super-padded training pants to hide under said underwear so I don't have to actually line my house in tarps?  Check.  Potty chart? Check. (Thanks, Trudy.  I'm inspired by the fact that both your girls are potty trained and used the chart- I'm hoping there's some magic left in it. [fingers crossed]) Pep talk from the Hubs declaring everybody gets potty-trained at some point and somehow, some way, you're gonna make it, kid?  Check.  Thanks, Hubs.  

So we're all hands on deck over here today, folks.  Its GAME TIME.

(Everything is more successful in a Buzz Lightyear shirt, duh.)

And a very happy Tuesday to you!

***UPDATE: I feel like I'd be living a lie if I didn't update tonight and tell you that potty training was a MASSIVE FLOP.  [insert gasp(!) here] Turns out I should have checked into the "When is your toddler ready to potty train?" list before jumping on the bandwagon at the first sign of interest in the big boy potty.  Wah wah waaaaah. Major mom fail.  We're missing a few key "readiness signs" so we're going to take it nice and easy and put the all-or-nothing plan on hold after a stressful day and try again in another couple of months.  Even the Buzz Lightyear shirt couldn't save us, folks.  I really jumped the gun on this one.  That's what I get for blogging in real time!  Shoulda waited 'til tomorrow to spill the beans on the potty training and spared myself the walk of shame back to the blog to confess my premature enthusiasm!  =)  

A Heads-Up

Today I'm writing with a public service announcement...

(I'm still pretty cranky about the whole thing.)

It happened Thursday night when I was out to dinner with my mom and sister.  We ordered some wine, and the waitress brought the bottle to the table.  After she set the bottle down, I looked down at my menu then heard a BANG! and realized everything was out of focus because my glasses had gone crooked on my face.  Then I saw the blood, and shut my eyes for the next 45 minutes while the restaurant bustled, my sister and mom reassured me it was ok while keeping pressure on the throbbing gash, I cried, and the ER doctor glued me up.

There was blood everywhere.  My mom and sister told me later that it soaked through two cloth napkins and surely ruined everyone's dinner at the sight of our table that evening in the restaurant. After looking at the bottle, we realized the cork never even left the mouth of the bottle.  The thing straight up exploded out the side.  The glass hit me in the head with enough force to continue on from my head to hit the floor under the table next to us.  It left a gaping hole in the side of the wine bottle.

All the way to the ER I cried because what the heck, man?  All I wanted was some chicken alfredo.  I was real shook up and continued to be through the next few days because the truth is, God's grace is the only thing that kept that glass from going through my glasses and hitting my eye.

Also, I cried because there was blood everywhere and we were in the middle of the restaurant.  I was that girl, the one who everyone was looking at and talking about as she was hurried out of the restaurant and management rushed to cover up the ordeal in my wake.

The whole thing was slightly traumatic.  I don't want to dramatize it as more frightening than it was, but the truth is, it was a really bizarre and dangerous situation, and I don't want it to happen to anyone else.

I debated writing about it at all, so the morning after it happened, I wrote up a little something that reflected my feelings on the whole thing, unsure if I'd ever post it or not.  Then we met with an attorney this morning to do what we could to be sure it didn't happen to anyone else, and that's when we found out the only realistic way to be sure this doesn't happen again is to shout it from the rooftops because all the world wants is money and the case wouldn't really go anywhere without lots of money to front the operation and that's lots of money the Hubs and I don't have.  So here's my feeble attempt to make sure nobody else is the recipient of an exploding wine bottle to the face:

Stay away from Seven Daughters Moscato.

Seriously.

All I have to do is imagine how I'd feel if Newbie had been at that table when the thing blew and homegirl gets real, real angry.  As in, can't even think about it angry. So if you're a vino fan, do yourself a favor and steer clear of Seven Daughters wine company.

And pass me another bandaid because this sucker is gnarly.

The bottom line is, I am so blessed because what could have been severely traumatic ended up being a cut on the forehead that will heal over time.  I'm fine, and I thank God for that.

But please tell your friends, because they sell the stuff at Target and serve it at restaurants, and I desperately want to spare others the pain of what could potentially happen.

No Seven Daughters.  Tell your friends.

Over and out.

Bears and Picnics and Budgies, Oh my!

A September Saturday at the zoo is one of the best kinds of September Saturdays.

All morning we heard, "I lub an-mals.  I weawy lub an-mals.  I weawy do.  I weawy lub an-mals.  Yots and yots." 

(I love watching him watch his world.)

(Petting zoos give me the heebie jeebies, but I thought I'd be depriving him of some serious childhood thrills if we opted out of taking him.)

(They had a play area made entirely of fallen trees.  It was a little boy's wonderland.)

(Hey, Newbie!  Whatever you do, DO NOT look at the camera when Daddy tries to take a picture.  Thankyouverymuch. =])

("BANG! BANG, ducks!"  ...his hunter of a daddy has him trained to BANG BANG any duck he sees.  Being the Bambi lover that I am, I can't say I'm proud, but I will admit that it is pretty cute. This kid is all boy.)

(Another result of my fear of depriving him of cheap childhood thrills...the budgie house.  I hate aviaries because there's always the chance of the unwelcome splat compliments of the constantly feasting feathered friends.  But I took one for the team.  Still, BIRDS EVERYWHERE.)

Happy weekending!