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Pig pile

Also known as hog heaven. I’ve never seen such filthy - or such giggly - babies.

Asswipe comment of the day

On a 40-seater plane on the runway in Cincinnati, Saturday night after Thanksgiving, with airport and plane sufficiently mobbed and overheated, Roo in my lap flirting with everyone around us between short lapses into sobbing, I-don’t-want-to-sit-still-anymore toddler tantrums, the flight attendant turns to the teenage boy across the aisle from us and says:

Well, that’s certainly a good argument to use birth control, isn’t it?

Well-travelled

Well-travelled

Originally uploaded by Roundisfunny1

This little guy is a replica of a hippo that was displayed at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York in 2002. In the fall of 2007 he showed up in the mud at low tide in the tidal creek by my cousins’ house about an hour from Savannah, Georgia.

If he could talk, I feel like he would have an amazing story to tell.

A change of scenery

The view at 6:30 this morning from my cousin’s house.

Wednesday Recipe

Preparation time: 4-5 hours

Ingredients required:

• Two moms, including one fearful flyer with relaxation meditation guide pre-loaded on iPod and bottle of atavan in carry-on bag
• One toddler with off-switch removed
• One bottle Benadryl, used in conjunction with above ingredient only if moms reach breaking point
• One airplane pointed South, ideally without a single empty seat
• One heaping bag full of toys and books, each for use for approximately 180 seconds

To make: Beginning at the crack of dawn, combine all ingredients. If desired, add crabby passengers, overworked airport personnel, and some really terrible coffee. Repeat entire process in reverse 3 days later.

Recovery time: Undetermined as of yet. Unscientific data has shown that pumpkin pie eaten standing up on a Friday morning may speed recovery.

Protected: Behind the wheel

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Toddler v. 1.0

Sunday afternoon: we’re in the drugstore.

Roo picks up a bottle of hair oil from the shelf and starts to walk away with it. He’s freakishly talented at unscrewing bottle tops, so I reach down and take it from him, offering him some hairbands as an alternative.

Instead of taking them, he falls immediately and with great drama to the shlocky drug store carpet, face down, screaming, kicking his legs, and pounding his fists on the floor.

We did the only thing you would expect of empathetic, patient parents:

We died laughing.

Gone, baby, gone

Drum roll, please…

We spent the night away from home last night WITHOUT THE BABY.

We stayed up late! (if 11:30 is late). We went to a movie! We had dinner - sushi - in bed! We had breakfast and no one signed “more” repeatedly with every bite. We slept past 6 am!

After the sleep shenanigans of the past few months, we reached our breaking point and hopped on Expedia. It was a pretty good deal in an exotic location: a suburb a whopping 4 miles from home. But the location was beside the point.

Roo stayed home with NSG’s dad and stepmom, who were very excited to have the opportunity. They took him for smoothies this morning and reported all went well, though it took them 2 hours to get out of the house. Fair enough - it took me that long to leave the house when he was brand new. He did great, they did great. Next time we’ll sleep better because we won’t be so worried about him keeping them up half the night.

He crashed when we came home - big smiles for about 10 minutes and then he couldn’t stop crying. Remember that feeling when you were little, of holding it together until you were with the person you felt safest with and then just falling apart?

Definitely a success.

(And yeah, sue me, I missed a day of NaBloPoMo. I’ve posted some photos as penance.)

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