I guess it's a balance. Matt and I do not value a clean house.
Okay, fine, that's a total lie. You got me. I would love nothing more than a clean house, but I'm just so tired at the end of the day. I suggested we get someone to do a clean quarterly in the house (as my birthday and Christmas and everything gift wrapped in one) and Matt was positively horrified. I guess it's too bourgeois. And how embarrassing, in a way. I don't know how they possibly couldn't pass judgement on the way we live. So he offers to clean - and does - but it's a pitiful job.
So here we are. I have pink eye. Again. It's like when I got Hand, Foot and Mouth and you didn't. I swear I need to wear a hazmat suit to pick you at daycare. But things are well other than my goopy eye and icky house. You are walking everywhere! About three weeks you go up and just decided, "Fine. I'll do this without prodding," and from there you were off. You adore chasing Penny (of course) around the ottoman and teasing her. The poor girl is panting afterwards!
Oh, and the best thing happened yesterday. I was picking you up at school, and, laying there, was an incident sheet. But the offender wasn't you! It was for the mild-mannered George, who (okay, I read the whole thing, sue me) apparently bite a classmate out of the blue! Boy wasn't even provoked. I was elated to find another troublemaker in the group and desperately want to cozy up to George's mom and dish on our sharp-toothed kids. Fortunately, you haven't bit anyone this week, but maybe it's because I keep reading the refrain from "Teeth Are Not For Biting" that goes, "Ouch! Biting hurts!" while screeching the "ouch!" part. You always look vaguely embarrassed.
You've been growing a bit more petulant at times, but also so much fun. You snuggle and love being chased and giggle and hide behind our legs. You still love bananas and walk over to where we keep them on the counter, pointing and saying, "Na-na! Na-na!" and yesterday I gave you a string cheese stick and you chanted "Cheesh!" over and over again. You also say "dog" and "all done" (ah dowwwn), but only rarely call me mama or your father dada. I guess you can't have everything. ;-)
Here are some photos from Easter weekend:
|Molly (far left) totally makes this photo. "Can't these bozos get their act together and take a good picture?!"|