In classic fashion, things have been whooowho crazy around here. Let me explain. No, it’ll take too long, let me sum up. Here’s what’s been going on:
Our buddy Milton was visiting from Mexico for a few days and has been dubbed “Mountain” by Lily. The man is rather tall and so, he’s adopted this name happily. He also drove off with one of our cars and a promise to try to come visit with his wife and daughter in December. Our fingers are crossed!
Anya has discovered her tongue and is happily blowing raspberries everywhere. She blows raspberries with a grin on her face, while crying, while nursing, while sleeping, while riding in the car, at people at the grocery, well… you get the idea. While I have been absolutely enchanted by this behavior, I have yet to catch it on camera. Hey, you can only ask so much.
My eyes are trying to escape my head. I’m thinking allergies or the current wildfires in my county. Whatever it is, I am exhausted by the end of the day and my eyes are so bloodshot that I just keep praying I don’t get pulled over or the officer is going to get the wrong impression. And won’t THAT be a fun way to spend and evening. Especially because if they give me the munchie test (hey, you want some Doritos?) I’m gonna have a hard time resisting because MAN, I’m hungry.
On Thursday I had about a dozen small children at my house along with a bunch of moms. Despite the fact that it was officially “craft day” for my playgroup not a single kid left with a craft. Instead we should call it, “kids running around while the dog tries to lick everyone and everyone narrowly avoids disaster, meanwhile every toy we have ever accumulated gets dragged out and dumped on the floor and if there is a toy too small for little hands it WILL end up in someone’s mouth and OH MY GODDESS what was I thinking Day.” It was really fun and then I wanted to sleep for three days (but alas, didn’t get to).
We took Lily to a cheap ass version of a city pumpkin patch in the parking lot of Target. There were rides and pumpkins and farm animals. It was a practice in futility. “I want the choo-choo!” Lily would happily announce. Then we’d try putting her on the train and she would cling to Mark like a howler monkey, screaming like it was the train to death. “I want the big slide!” AHHHHHH! SLIDE OF DEATH! “I want the swings!” Say it with me now, NOOOOOOO! SWINGS THAT OPERATE MECHANICALLY ARE DEVICES FOR TORTURE AND EVIL. AHHHHHHHHHHH! And each one of these devices of evil cost $2.50 to ride and while I was able to sweet talk our ride ticket back from the train dude, the inflatable jump guy wasn’t having any of my smiles. The lady who sold us the tickets at least let me run off with a tiny pumpkin and some “looking corn,” so dubbed by Lily because we told her it wasn’t for eating. I swear, we could have just brought her the pumpkin and corn and she would have thought we were the best parents ever. Would have cost less too.
The girls went to the doctor yesterday and have both been appropriately declared “perfect in every way.” We finally found a doctor that we really like and supports our parenting choices. He totally reminds me of the country doctor type and was actually able to get Lily to stop screaming long enough to look in her ears. He was even kind enough to tell me that situational anxiety was perfectly normal for this age, so if she wasn’t freaking out at the doctor’s he’d worry about her. Probably shades of a lie, but I clung to it anyway while soothing my curly girl. They’re so laid back though, when she refused to be measured or weighed they let me hold her for the weighing (then took my weight and did math to arrive at her weight) and decided that since she didn’t look disproportionate, they wouldn’t worry about her height. He also took one look at Anya’s cubby thighs and said, “YAY Breastmilk!” I seriously think I love that man.
And finally, today we took a trip to a local mountain town called Julian (Cara, I thought of your little guy the whole time). I don’t know why I think these kinds of things are a good idea. Anya will tolerate the car, but not for more than an hour or so; thus there was screaming. We brought the dog and Mark forgot the poop bags. A local merchant provided us with one of their little bags for her monster poop. It was gold. The bag, not the poop. But then it was gold clad poop, which for some reason delighted me to no end. Moving on. Lily fell down and scrapped up her arm pretty badly. It was way too crowded. Nobody napped. BUT there was pie. Really good pie. So I guess it was OK.
I’m working on uploading photos from the week now and will hopefully have some nice ones for you all over on my Flickr account. Go take a look when you have a moment. Then I need to work on a post for Mama Says Om. And there’s a road trip to get ready for coming up. And sleep. Gotta get me some of that.