Wordless Wednesday

The ous (us) words

I have a problem. I can't keep my hands off my baby. I want to gnaw on him all the time and the only words I can use to describe him end in ous:
Delicious
Fabulous
Scrumptious
Luscious
Curious
Gorgeous
and
CHUB-A-LICIOUS!

Also, I was kinda wanting a change so I cut off a lot of my hair, added bangs, and went blonder than I think I ever have been. I think I like it but sometimes I think its a little too soccer mom-ish. I have to say though that my BFFs have said positive things. But my husband said "It isn't my favorite." I appreciate his honesty but its left me questioning my decision.

The bangs were cut straight across and I prefer them separated a little so the bangs on the left have to be flattened.

Thoughts?

Wordless Wednesday

A budding photographer and the one where MRA rats out his Babba

MRA is a budding photographer. Of course, this is no surprise. There is a lot of interest in photography in the family. So, its in his genes. The photos yesterday were MRAs. I find I enjoy seeing the world through his perspective (yeah, I know it is likely less about perspective and more about hand eye cordination but perspective sounds more interesting.)

Here are a few more:

Also, it should be known that it anyone is going to break our rules, MRA - he'll rat you out in a second. He ratted out his beloved Babba last night and didn't think twice.

Backstory: We use bribery  incentives to get MRA to poop on the potty. he particularly likes reeses panut butter eggs. He makes poopy on the potty, he gets an egg. No other time. It is that simple.

He does not get eggs for walking by the bathroom or because he exists - he must use the potty. Unless, apparently, Babba is around.

Last night:

Me to Nanna: Did he use the potty?

Nanna: No, he tried but no.

MRA comes down the stairs seemingly chewing on something.

Me: M. did Nanna give you eggs?

MRA: No.

Me: That's good.

MRA: BABBA DID!!

Awesome.

Wordless Wednesday

Put that in your pan and bake it!

Hahaha! My dear friend Kim has passed along this article. Its actually less of an article and more a call for information to become an article later BUT it is geared at us who don't like cake.

For years I have withstood the ridicule because I do not like cake. I have never really liked the cake. And, although my closest friends have accepted this (thank you all - there are reasons why I call you my closest friends). There are many who continue to try to get me to eat cake year in and year out, there are those who continue to buy me cakes for celebratory events, there are thpose who feign that they have forgotten this fact when I "surprise" them by declining a piece for dessert. This is not new information in  my world.

And, I suspect, there are others out there who don't care for cake as well. Finally there is some recognition. Cakecentral.com is asking all those non-cake-eaters to speak out, reveal themselves, and offer what they like to eat instead. My awesome and always supportive friend Kim sent me the link and although it is too late to add my comments (it would have been oh-I-dunno-breadpudding-or-darkchocolate-or-krispykremedonughts-maybe), I am looking forward to seeing the responses come in.

So, to all my cake-eating critics, put that in your pan and bake it!

No longer an baby; not quite a gentleman

Wednesday was the boys last day at ISR swim lessons. This is reason to celebrate for so many reasons, not the least of which was the nightly routine of hauling an infant and a toddler into the facility, getting them both changed into their swin outfits, filling out their daily paperwork, getting them dried off, redressed and packed up inside a non-airconditioned room with a heated pool in it. UUUGh.

So, I may have been skipping into the lesson, maybe, just a little.

MRA, first out of the car, ran to the door and we said, "Mama, M. hold door for you."

Me: "Oh, How nice M. You are such a little gentleman."

MRA: "Gennelman?"

Me: "Yes, a gentleman. Gentlemen hold the doors open for ladies. Your daddy's a gentleman."

MRA: "Mama, I not a gennelman. M. is a little boy."

MRA's Law

Its a little bit like Murphy's Law but a lot more painful and most likely to be applied in situations where I need sleep.

MRA's Law states that if you go out on the town, be it a date or ladies night or some other random event, you WILL pay for it. Any relaxation or stress relief that was garnered from your time away will be negated within hours of you returning home and going to sleep.

And this makes me angry. So then, I am just tired and angry and no one should talk to me, especially MRA. I should probably carry around some sort of warning sign or just not ever go out again.

And to think, when I came home and checked in on him, I thought "He's such a sweet child." Haha - MRA's Law.