I think 2013 may be the year of weekly updates. Better than nothing, no?
Zane is becoming a master frisbee-er. Whenever we announce that we're going on a family walk, he asks, "Can I bring a frisbee?"
And I push the littles in the BOB and Z and B frisbee like the best of them. Backwards, running, one-handed, left-handed, etc. Are there college scholarships in frisbee? We're grooming a super star.
In case you were worried, he somehow managed to avoid tripping over the low wall in his trajectory there, phewf.
For the record, last night he finished up the last Percy Jackson book. Why are there only 5 of those and not 50 like Magic Tree House?
Speaking of the littles, they spent some time on the quilt outside yesterday while the big boys frisbee-d, and when I picked Soren up and took him inside, he immediately reached back towards the door with a meaningful, "Uh uh uh!!" So, back out we went.
Admit it, you're impressed with my "plant as headdress" photo skills.
So, rug #3 had to go, can you believe it? 40 days in and it was still shedding like a herd of sheep.
Or, as Annie told a grandparent this weekend, "We had to take it back--too sheddy!" Too sheddy indeed.
I bought rug #4 at a non-returnable outlet store. Brilliant!
We know our future a little clearer than we did 40 days ago, even if I can't quite announce anything here yet, and this smaller rug may or may not be a perfect fit for a future living room.
And did I mention it's non-returnable? Double brilliant!
My life feels a bit like a repeating soundtrack these days. No complaining, but the pictures start to duplicate themselves, beware. We had a sick week with the little one, coughing and boogers. So the cry-it-out method had to be put on hold, and the bad sleeping returned. Argh, why can't progress be permanent? This week marks a return to health, and a return to middle of the night cry sessions. If you come over, I'll look very sleepy.
Soren though, he just looks fabulous, clean or dirty.
Annie continues to be overly loyal and sensitive. And disgusted with me for being not-so.
I discovered a forgotten skittle-filled Santa in a drawer. I opened him up, shared the treats, then chucked him into the recycle bin. A few minutes later, a very distraught little lady came up to me: "Mom, I saw you were recycling this Santa, but the truth is, I .... I..... I LOVE HIM TOO MUCH TO SAY GOODBYE!!!" Sigh.
After much debate and many tears, we decided a picture of the beloved fellow would be enough.
I get those dots on my forehead when I cry too. Sorry about our genes, lady!
8:03pm continues to be my favorite moment of the day. Can you guess why?
See you next week!