Life Imitates Art. Or Is It The Other Way Around?

I'm not sure she's a true artiste, but Ellie's drawings are definitely becoming more realistic.  Just last week she came home with this:

I asked her who was in the picture.  She says (with an exaggerated eye roll) "Mommy, of course it's you telling me 'no'!"  Well, of course.  How silly of me.

Thanksgiving Tidbit: Indians STILL Wear Hairbows

As was discussed last Thanksgiving: Things the History Books Don't Tell Us, historians and social anthropologists have discovered that Native Americans displayed bowhead tendencies. The historical evidence is mounting:

2009 Thanksgiving Feast:

Same Little Indians, one year later:

There is a rising concern among experts that the bows are seemingly growing.  We can only hope that this trend does not continue.  Any further increase in bow size could have massive cultural and ecological ramifications.

Rip Van Harry

Harry caused us a little concern last night.  He generally takes a late afternoon nap, sometimes not waking up until just before dinner, around 6.  Nanny Melissa tells us he went down at 3.  We're expecting wakeage around 5/5:30.  Dinner time came and went (although there was no dinner yet as I had made up my mind to concoct a lasagna recipe completely and totally from scratch, noodles and all) without a sound.  We let him snooze. 

Dinner actually hit the table at 8pm (did you read the part about totally from scratch--marinara, bechamel--on a Tuesday!).  Not a peep.  At this point we know we have to make a call.  To wake him, or let it ride.  If we wake him at 8 he may not go back down until midnight.  If we don't, he may wake up at midnight.  Sort of a lose/lose.  Plus, he's going to be hungry when he finally rouses.  A hungry Harry is never, ever pretty.

I went the "never wake a sleeping baby" route, crossed my fingers, said a prayer and hoped Wes would take pity on me when he woke.  Being the good husband that he (usually) is, Wes did get up with him...when he finally decided to wake up and start playing in his crib at 6:15 a.m.  Fifteen hours and fifteen minutes after falling asleep he sat up, looked around his crib, and starting wailing on Baby Tad:

Not that he didn't deserve it.  That frog is irritating. 

Harry seemed no worse for wear.  In fact he was downright chipper this morning:

He says to me when Wes plops him in our bed, "hi ya ma ma, yeah uh-huh" which is meaty feet speak for morning lady, where's my breakfast?

Ding Ding! Here Comes the Fire Mobile!*

Ellie got to take a "walking" field trip to the Fire Station here on the Marietta Square yesterday. She was THRILLED that her daddy got to chaperone (not sure the feeling was mutual). The best part is, Daddy got pictures!

No, not this one:

But these:

She got to "ride" on the fire truck. 

She even got a fireman's hat and badge!

They learned from the guys at the fire station that fire trucks used to be pulled by horses.  BFF Mary Riley asked if they were winged, Pegasus horses, which would have made putting out fires a WHOLE lot cooler back in the day, but I think they shot that idea down.  Alas.

All in all an excellent field trip.

*With apologies to Maddox, creator of The Best Page in the Universe. http://maddox.xmission.com/.  I'm sure this is not the purpose for which he intended his work.  Beware, content is not fit for people without a sense of sick, inappropriate humor, or anyone under the age of 18, or anyone with a soul.

Everybody Say Cheese Yee-Ha!

She is definitely my child.  New outfit = insane mugging for the camera.  She was so excited about her new denim skirt that she wanted me to take a picture of her in it for her Daddy to send to him in Vegas.  She would NOT, however, just pose in a sweet, little girl fashion.  She insisted on saying "Yee-Ha" and when I begged her to say cheese so she wouldn't have a weird facial expression, she compromised by shouting "CHEESE YEE-HA" instead.  Here is the result:

Harry, by the way, refused to participate in this farce.  Mostly because he was too busy trying to climb into his high chair.  It was breakfast time.  He was not happy.

Speeding Cookies, Muddled Thoughts and Partial Blindness

Over the past week I have learned that Ellie can use the following phrases in their proper context:

1.  I can't resist (insert favorite food here; for Ellie it's Chicken Fried Rice);
2.  I can't stand (insert most hated food here; for Ellie it's Chicken Fried Rice mommy makes from scratch);
3.  THAT is ridiculous;
4.  I'm not budging on this (when asserting her position that we should eat Chicken Fried Rice for dinner); and
5.  My brain is just all mixed up.

She has also informed us that her mispronunciation of words is just as valid as the alleged correct pronunciation of words.  For instance, the restaurant known as Orient Express is actually Oreo Express.  After explaining what Orient means and linking it to her beloved fried rice, we figured she'd relent, but no.  "Actually, the food is very yummy, like an Oreo, so it's the Oreo Express, and besides, I like saying that more anyway, so it's ok for me to just say it that way."  Maybe next week will discuss the concept of "conclusory statements."

In other, completely unrelated news, I have been concerned Harry is not hitting his milestones.  At his 18 month checkup (29 lbs 10 ounces, 34 inches long, 92% in both) the nurse asked if he could point to and identify his body parts.  I said, "well, no."  She pursed her lips and then gave me an overly broad smile and said that it "was no big deal."  Obviously, I've been drilling him on the position of his eyes and ears and mouth and nose to absolutely no avail.

Until last night.  He starts touching my eye and saying very loudly "EYE."  I would totally overpraise him and get him to do it again and again and again.  Right up until he shoved his chubby little index finger about an inch deep in my eye socket.  It's safe for me to drive with no periperal vision in my right eye, isn't it?  Well, at least he's developing normally.