Emily: Knock knock
Everyone: Who’s there?
Everyone: Banana who?
Emily: Banana W(insert lastname here)
(Smothered giggles from Mom and Dad)
Emily: Knock Knock
Everyone: Who’s there?
Everyone: Orange who?
Emily (thinks a moment, places her finger on her chin and looks rather puzzled, then says in a whisper): I don’t know
Dorothy (in a loud conspicuous whisper in Emily’s ear): Orange you glad I didn’t say banana?
Emily (with a big grin on her face, nods her head and says): Uh-huh!
We have been working tirelessly on teaching the kids better table manners, namely not using your fingers in place of spoons and forks. Dot seems to be the one taking the longest to get the concept into her head that fingers are taboo unless eating finger food. She then takes her fingers, ignores the napkins, and wipes them down her front, on her pants, or across the tableclothe.
Last night in a moment of sheer frustration Paul asked her exasperatedly, ” Which part of ‘don’t use your fingers’ are you not understanding?”
Dorothy tips her head to the side her big brown eyes thoughful, then looks at Daddy and says, “Probably all of it.”
I almost snorted the water I was drinking and then nearly fell off my chair trying to recover quickly.
That is what things around here have been like lately! 🙂 Paul left early Thursday morning for Woodbadge (Scout leader training) and got home 9:30 in the evening on Saturday, so for another three days I wrassled the awesome foursome solo. It wasn’t to bad, but by Sat. night we had all hit burnout level, and I am afraid that he was greeted by a very grouchy wife rather than a chipper one. 🙂 Thank goodness he only has one 3 more day training in Sept. and then he should be done. And at least two of the days he is gone kids will be in school. 😉
I finally quit procrastinating yesterday and attempted to get the kids school shopping done. I guess I wasn’t really procrastinating as Paul has been gone. I decided to suck it up and just take everyone with me, how bad could it be?
I should have known just from the parking lot that the only Wal-mart in 30 miles would be inundated, but after driving all the way there, I wasn’t going to waste the trip. Thankfully there was a super-cart available where I could strap both Emily and Jacob in, but near impossible to manouver around the packed isles of supplies and sardines, err . . people. The school isle was fairly uncrowded, but it seemed the minute I set one timid foot across the line a silent alarm went off and I was in a human landslide being carried down the isle grabbing at things as I sailed by. Houdini boy decided that nothing was going to keep him strapped in, so while I was grasping depserately at the dissapearing school supplies I was trying to wrangle in the toddler as he climbed up my shirt and over my back, with Emily yanking on his leg trying to keep him from escaping. With a mad shriek he began missile fire with his sandals narrowly missing a few unsuspecting targets. Finally an hour (or at least it felt like it) and a quarter of supply list later I slowly limped to the check out stand, having been trampled by two minuture elephants when we finally found the rulers. Most of the supplies had long since been snatched up. Back to school shopping at Wal-Mart is not for the faint-hearted or procrastinator.
When I got home I pulled in the driveway at the same time as Paul and tossed him the children and zipped over to Fred Meyers. I wasn’t going to let the last of the supply lists escape me any further, and was filled with childish glee as I saw rows and rows of nearly untouched supplies. Each item was checked off quickly without any one being dive-bombed by children or sandals.
Now, I just need to track down a few clothing items and we’re done (but, hey, I figure they can start school with what they’ve got if I can’t find what I’m looking for). 🙂
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My little Blue Eyes feeling blue (Emily at 8 months or so)
Filed under Em, Photography
Jacob is 17 months becoming quite the character. I love his little ducky toddler walk and his babbling as he tries so hard to make words like the rest of us do. The kid is fearless. We were at the park the other day and he was climbing all over the place, just having a grand ol’ time. We have no stairs in our home but somewhere along the line he has learned how to go down them safely (backwards). It sure is a hoot to see him climb up to a slide than turn around and scoot backwards feet first to slide down the slide on his tummy, doing it the *safe* way. 🙂 He blows kisses to everyone he sees, loves stealing our hats, playing peek-a-boo, singing, directing music, and dancing (he turns circles on the floor until he is so dizzy he falls over) heh. He also is learning the mechanics of the telivision set and the stereo. He knows right where the power button is, and if he can’t hear it, he aims right for the volume button. None of my girls ever figured out which button does what, maybe it is a boy thing, because he also turns on the stereo and turns the volume up there too if he thinks it is too soft. Of course we are trying to thwart the incessant turning on of the tv, but he is a mighty determined little guy.
Sunday he ignored the warning of his nursery teacher about patting his freshly made craft and burnt his little fingers on hotglue. Poor little tyke had blisters on his fingers, and was not at all happy when mommy had to go poking around to get the fluid off, but I think he learned what hot means at least.
Last night he graduated from his high chair to a booster seat so he can sit right at the table with us. Everyone was very excited including him, he was clapping and yaying along with the best of them. Of course as a mom I grabbed the camera to snap a few shots.
I took a couple and then Paul started to tickle him under the table to get a big smile. Just as I went to snap the photo Jacob scrunched up his eyes and his hands flew to his face. His expression was so funny, and I looked at Paul, “what was that face?” I asked laughing. Then realization dawned and Paul exclaimed, “He was anticipating the flash!”
I have never had any of my kids react to the flash before other than the wide-eyed surprise of being blinded. But Jacob, he’s not one to be taken in easily, he knows what’s coming. When (if ever) I get my film developed I’ll be sure to post the picture, it sure looked hillarious through the view finder.
(edit: The picture is posted, I sure got the squint, but it looks like I missed his hands, heh) 🙂
Deb wrote a really cool story (as she usually does) and asked what our scariest or funniest memory from our childhood was. I’ve written a lot of them already, so it was a bit challenging, but there was this time when . . .
I didn’t need horror flicks to spur my imagination, or put a face on my fears that lurked in shadow. I just needed an empty old farmhouse in the dark.
I was ten, maybe eleven, when I flipped the lock on the door behind my father as they headed out. I turned around and scanned the ranch style farmhouse. It was all one level with stairs leading down to the basement, where my bedroom was housed. I snagged my book from off the table and flicked on the basement/stair light. I looked down the stairs and into the darkness beyond, my imagination starting to tug at my spine. Taking a deep breath turned off the warm, safe kitchen light and started down the stairs. Thump *thump* Thump *thump* Thump *thump*. I froze midway and spun around expecting to see someone behind me. No one was there. I continued a little further. After every slap of my bare feet against wood I swore I heard another. Someone, something, was following me down those stairs. I spun around again, my heart beating so hard I thought I could see my chest moving with its force. Again, there was nothing. I quickly descended the remaining stairs, diving for the light at the bottom. Just as the basement sprung into brilliance I saw a tall shadow out of the corner of my eye. Looming, and then, I thought, it moved!
All intellectual thought fled from my brain as my terrified heart seized my body and drove me into my room. Slamming the door behind me I leaned up against it my panting the only sound in the awesome stillness. *Creek* “It’s just the house. It’s just the house,” I chanted to myself. *Creek* *shuffle shuffle* I squeezed my eyes shut. *Scrape Scrape* “It’s just the house. It’s just the house,” I prayed. I walked over to my desk and fumbling with the switch on my radio I turned it on and then cranked the volume high enough to drown out all other sounds. I grabbed the flashlight hidden in my desk drawer and turned on my lamp. After looking in my closet and under my bed, I crept into the safety of my bed and drew the covers over my head. My hand snuck out for just a moment, seizing my book and drawing it in. I flicked on my light and began to read.
That was how Dad found me when he got home. Basement light, stair light, and every light in my room on. Radio blasting, and me cowering under my covers, fast asleep with a dead flashlight in my hand, and a book laying half open beside me. He asked why I left all the lights on when I went to bed the next morning. I just mumbled something about, “footsteps on the stairs.”
I survived! Though I came this close – – to being tied up in a closet. 🙂 heh. The week actually calmed down a bit and we managed to avoid any more injuries. The dinner that we did Wednesday night at the hospital for ICU and longterm rehabilitation parents went really well and I met some amazing and wonderful people.
I also go t my hair cut- short that afternoon. I hadn’t expected it to be quite so short. I had described to her what I wanted (similar to the last time) and then talked to her about trimming up Emily’s hair (I’ve gotten to where I love her short little pixie cut). There-in lies my fault. I think she thought that I was also describing what I wanted. So a snip-snip and a huge pile of hair later I was left with an awesome hair cut that I had no idea what to do with. I haven’t had short hair since I was about 8 and everyone thought I was a boy. I had to go to volunteer with the dinner that night and I hadn’t the foggiest of how to style my hair.
Thank goodness for girly friends. After attacking with mousse (at first I spelled it like the animal, but I knew that couldn’t be right, heh), root-lifter (I didn’t even know there was such a thing), somthing called pomade, a curling iron, and half a bottle of hairspray I was set to go. Loading up my hair with stuff is an all-knew thing for me. I never have put mousse in my hair before, just a touch of hairspray from time to time (and a perm, but I learned my lesson on that one). So I am now the proud owner of a whole bunch of hair products and a smashing new do (which I really like by the way, I just had to get used to it).
My friend insisted on take pictures – front and back even. 🙂