11 is Heaven

The not-so-little Miss M is just one month shy of her big year mark. Hard to believe. She is a busy, happy, smiley, little gal. She's still army crawling it all over the place (even almost attempting to "sky dive" from the top of the stairs down to the bottom - fortunately we talked her out of the jump just in time), pulling herself up on things, her crib, the bathtub, people, and stairs.

She loves to "throw" things out and go get them back.

She is also great at sharing. She holds out something to us (food, toy, pacifier, you name it), we take it and then give it back to her and she thinks it's great fun.

She says "Mama," "Dadadada," "eh" (for Andrew), waves ni-night, buh-bye, and hi, and has even picked up "All Done" in sign language (well, kind of. it's more of a wave, but we get the message).

She sports 2 teeth currently (both on the bottom) with the top 2 working their way through any minute.

With all of those 2 teeth she likes to eat peas, carrots, sweet potatoes, applesauce, avocadoes, strawberries, grapes, cheerios, puffs, graham crackers, oatmeal, cream of wheat, eggs, yogurt, cheese, and even a little ice cream here and there.

She likes to be where the action is. If we leave her playing in the family room while we're doing something in the kitchen she leaves her toys and comes to us to shimmy her way across the floor and pull down the magnets that are on the fridge (and sometimes put them back).

We sure love our delctable, lovable, muggable Miss M.

Dear Neighbors...

Thank you for making your lawns look so lush and green and perfectly manicured. You inspire us to do the same.

Thank you for being so religiously consistent in your lawn manicuring activities.

Thank you for mowing your lawn even as an approaching storm looms ominously over you. That's dedication.

But what I'd really like to thank you for is something that I simply can't. So, can we work on a few things this summer?

Can you avoid cranking up the lawn mower at 7:30 on a Sat. morning? Even better, can you just push "pause" (instead of "start") on that contraption at around 1 or 1:30 in the PM when my Mr. A and Miss M like to get some beauty sleep? Or, maybe even getting the mowing out of the way BEFORE dinner instead of AFTER?

In the meantime, I'll just crank up the sound machines. But even they have a maximum limit.

I AM asking a lot. So, happy mowing, people. May your freshly mowed lawn and perfectly edged sidewalks comfort you when my tired children descend upon them.

Oh, and happy summer.

Dye-ing, Hunting, Gathering, Bunny

We have had a busy Easter season. We've had plenty of hunts to attend. More than enough candy to gather. Lots of eggs to dye. And we even got to meet Mr. Easter Bunny himself.

Ready to dye!

All the eggs are "cookin'"

On the hunt - post-nap (nice outfit, I know - it was cold and windy)

"Found it!"

Check out this stash

High-5, Mr. Easter Bunny!

(***NOTE - can anyone tell me why my spacing is not working on my paragraphs?? I have hit Enter several times and it keeps returning to this ugly looking spacing. ugh.)

For the 2nd yr in a row we went to an Easter Egg Hunt that tops 'em all. It is sponsored by some very generous local families. Spread out among acres and acres and acres of a local farm, children of all ages have their very own places to hunt. They are entertained by a juggler before the clock strikes 10. At 10 am promptly, each "hunter" takes his/her place among his age group.

Mr. A gathered with the 3-4 year olds and, when instructed to do so, marched in the pouring rain right down to their big field that was COVERED with candy, eggs, slinkies, bouncy balls, and the list goes on. He loved picking up all of his treats and, upon completion, promptly handed me the basket and proclaimed, "It too heavy, Mommy. I not carry it anymore."

I added it to my collection. Since DH was out of town, I had Miss M in the Bjorn, the diaper bag on my back, the umbrella in my left hand, the camera in my right hand, and now found a place for Mr. A's basket. I couldn't let those precious Mike & Ike's go to waste!!

After the collection ended, the crowd gathered out back where high school age kids threw candy, treats, and gummies by the handfuls to eager particpants waiting below. Since Mr. A was competing with the 10 yr olds and had proclaimed several times, "Mom, I not GET it!" I admit to resorting to stepping on said treats to shield it from the ravaging hands of a 10 yr old until my Mr. A could hastily swoop it up. Shameful, I admit.

After the free-for-all candy throw, the Easter Bunny came hopping out from the woods way in the back of the farm and all of the children went running to him. It was hysterical. Mr. A took off (much to my alarm as I hurried after him) to greet the bunny with his trademark Hi-5. No hugs for this kid.

Last year the Easter Bunnies parachuted down from the airplanes they had jumped out of. Due to inclement weather this year they were unable to skydive. We'll keep our fingers crossed for next year.

Happy Easter

Me to DH at 9 AM: "I'd really like to get some pictures of the kids before we head to church today. So, we should probably have them ready a few minutes early."

DH: "OK."

Me at 11:15 (church starts at 11:30 and we live 10 mins away - I'm putting on my shoes at the bottom of the stairs and securing the backing on my earring): "Let's put the kids on the sofa. We need to get their pictures."

DH: "Right now?"

Classic.

DH was the entertainment and I snapped away. Wouldn't you know that the first one is probably one of the best ones? (see below for the magically disappearing shoe story)

Happy Easter from Miss M and Mr. A

Hooray for Easter! "Mom, where's Easter?" - we have some work to do

The oh-so-munchable Miss M

Big smiles!

Gotta go - you all have a great Easter now

**The Magically Disappearing Shoe Story - a footnote (no pun intended)

Once upon a time there was a very cute Pediped shoe - a white one with cute pink and green flowers on it that velcro'd closed so as to fit the foot snugly. It matched Miss M's Easter dress quite nicely. On the sunshiny Easter morn, Miss M awoke from her morning slumber and donned her Easter ensemble - dress, bloomies, overcoat, bow, tights, and shoes. Her always late mother set her down to roam the carpet freely while she finished her own readying. Her mother even popped her head out of the bathroom to see Miss M frolicking on her back on the upstairs landing with the aforementioned left Pediped in her hand and on its way to her mouth. Lunch was imminent.

-Miss M's father came up the stairs to rescue her from her frolicking and asked aloud, "Where is her other shoe?"

-"Oh, it's just there on the landing," came the reply from her mother.

-"No, it's not," retorted her father.

-"Of course it is," increasingly impatient came the current reply from her mother. "Where else

could it be? Unless she pushed it between the slats and it went down in the sofa or on the floor below."

-"Not there either."

-For the next 5 minutes an all-hands-on-deck search for Miss M's magically missing shoe ensued. Even Mr. A was in on the action.

-No such luck. Time to leave. Go to Shoe Plan B (every girl's got one, right?).

-Fast forward 3 hours.

-Miss M has returned from her Easter services with the backup shoes. Her mother is taking off her jewelry and notices right by her jewelry box a shoe. Just like the missing shoe. She runs downstairs to find the other matching shoe.

-"Mr. A? Why is Miss M's shoe right here (next to the jewelry box and by the movies he pulls down)?"

-"OHHHH!! I just looking at the shows, Mom. Sissy not like her shoe so I bring it in your room!"

-And so the shoe was found. After the pictures. After the services. After the fact.

-The End.

Crossing

My workout clothes are on. The elliptical is waiting for me. It's been this way for a good hour now. Are we shocked?

For the moment I'm much more compelled to finish my 3rd, 4th, or 5th (I really can't remember) reading of one of my very favorites. I still have my copy from my senior year of college - the one I read in my Senior Seminar class - the one marked with bright pink highlighter, red ballpoint notes in the columns, and blue felt tip written somewhere near the end. I'm almost done. I get kind of sad when I'm almost done with a book. The journey is near complete. I'm leading the Book Group discussion on Tuesday. I suggested it selfishly so that I could just read it again.

There's something clearly compelling about a book on friendship - ultimately friendship is what this story is all about. Good friends really are like good French cheeses - they get better over time. The title is taken from this Robert Frost poem:

“I could give all to Time except-except
What I myself have held. But why declare
The things forbidden that while the Customs slept
I have crossed to Safety with? For I am There
And what I would not part with I have kept.”

I think friendships are supposed to help us cross that precarious bridge of the unknown, the unwanted, and even the unbelievable to arrive on the side where we feel safe, secure, or even uninhibited. I am glad for the reminders and I am even gladder for my own friendships - those that have aged like fine French cheese and those that will age beautifully over time.

And so, tonight, my hope for you is that you have/get to have/make friends that help you in your own journeyings and crossings to safety.

I'm coming, elliptical. I'm coming.

Mr. M&M&M

Last weekend we paid a visit to our "local" Mars factory. Yes, the candy company. No, I don't work for them. Yes, I would get very very very fat. However, my very generous bro-in-law works for them and invited Mr. A and Miss M up for the annual Easter Egg Hunt/Bunny Hop (apparently they had to re-name it this year b/c some city councilman put up a stink about calling it an Easter Egg Hunt. God bless America).

Neither my B-I-L nor my sister had been to this event before so we didn't quite know what to expect. I kept telling Mr. A that he would get to see the M&M man! And, I kept saying, "Won't that be so cool?!" To which he always asked, "Mom, where's Mr. M&M&M??"

The Easter Bunny couldn't quite hack it in the cold, blustery weather so we missed our picture with him (he was running inside for a warmth break when we went to sit with him. Dream-dasher. Whatever.). BUT, we did get our picture with Mr. M&M&M. Doesn't that count for something?

Miss M trying to stay warm while waiting for the "Bunny Hop"

HUNTING - I admit - it was a lot more like Trick-or-Treating than Hunting, but it served the same purpose - lots of candy in bag in a very brief amount of time

With Mr. M&M&M and Auntie Nancy - the 2 celebrities of the day (Mr. A was a LITTLE intimidated but he did give him a high 5)

With Uncle Clint, too (celebrity #3)

We hope it's not as cold, not as windy, but just as yummy next year. Thanks, N&C!! And, thanks, Mr. M&M&M for finally letting us find you.

Overheard...at the kitchen table

We have a rule at our house (several, actually, but we'll just discuss this one for now): before leaving the breakfast/lunch/dinner table, you must thank the person responsible for making the meal ("Thank you, Dad, for the nice dinner" - a requirement even when hot dogs is the dinner of choice), ask to be excused ("May I please be excused?"), and then take your plate/bowl to the sink. Simple enough, right?

My Mr. A struggles at times and must be constantly reminded of said rule. Tonight, however, was a new take on our old rule. After Mr. A announced "I'm all done" he leapt over the wall by the kitchen table on to the sofa in true Mowgli style (he's into Jungle Book today), we reminded him, once again, of his responsibilities as a member of our household.

"Oh, yeah," he said while running around the couches to come back to the table. He quickly picked up his plate and uttered, "Thank you, Mom, for the nice leftovers. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

There was a little mixup in the common prayer ending and the common table ending phrases. DH and I were busting up but Mr. A had already taken off to get a few more dances in to the Jonas Brothers' rousing rendition of "Be Like You."

Don't you wish YOU lived at our house?

Reunited

As of 6 am today, Billy and I are back on. We had taken a long break (a good 18 months or so). But, things are better than ever and I'm looking forward to his help in making me a better person. I'm already feeling the effects and it's just been over 12 hours. Thanks, Billy.

Moving...

We are. To here. Don't tell my mom. She might miss her short drive to us. Don't tell my sister. She'll have to fly her baby out for us to return the favors. Don't tell my other sister. She'll be sad that she can't call me so early in the morning. Don't tell my in-laws. We might be a little too close for comfort.




And, lastly. Don't really tell anyone. Didn't anyone tell you it's April? The first of?

ps - i'm sure you've seen several posts of this nature today, but it was more of an exercise in creativity for me. don't think i thought you might really believe me!