Comunicable

Duke eats better if it's off my spoon, and my plate, and if he's in my lap.  If I weren't working so hard to fatten that baby up you can bet we'd be working on meal time boundaries.  Sitting in his own chair, eating off his own spoon and so on but when you weigh just over 16 lbs every bite counts so I hold him and I let him eat oatmeal off my spoon for breakfast.

I am working on a wedding gown.  Adding lacey elbow sleeves to a previously strapless gown.  Fittings mostly consist of me shifting pining and tweaking the neckline, making sure things lie close to the body, nothing gaping, nothing bunching.  This translates to a lot of face to face close proximity time with the bride.  I'll bet her fiance would be jealous if he knew.

Yesterday morning at a stop light I rested  the side of my head in my hand and discovered a  crusty flaky something in the curve of my ear. Closer examination revealed it to be oatmeal.

Thanks Duke.

It had me worried for a second though, unidentified dry flaky oatmeal in such proximity to the ear canal would likely give anyone pause.  Then I thought of the dress fitting I conducted less than an hour earlier, all the time I spent with my ear in front of that girl's face.

I wonder if she noticed.

I wonder if she worried it was catching.

my sweet sweet babies

Our current church schedule along with the developmental stages of the children have recently come together to reintroduce to me the wonder known as "The Sunday Afternoon Nap." It is a joy, that nap.

 Today as I drifted slowly back to consciousness at the conclusion of my delicious napping I heard thumping in the kitchen. I went to investigate and was met with disappointed groans. "Oh Mama, we were making a surprise for you!" I put on my best surprised happy face as I surveyed the scene. Water running into an already brimful sink, Enz atop the step stool gingerly running a soapy brush over a sopping wet jug. Ziz was beside him at this point, I guessed she was on rinse duty. I was wrong though.

 "Enzo's washing the dishes and I'm making COOKIES!" Zizza told me. "Whaaa?" came my eloquent response as I fought hard to maintain that surprised happy face. Sure enough, the old red and white cook book was open to chocolate chip cookies. A peek into the bowl of the mixer showed she'd already measured out butter and shortening. I double checked the recipe she was using, it called for 1/2 cup of each. Her measurements looked pretty accurate. I decided to let the cookie situation play out, and directed my attention to Enzo, only intervening with Zizza's project when she directly asked for help.

A closer inspection of the sink revealed hunks of shortening floating in what was supposed to be wash water. There were some things in the drain board I'd washed earlier and I double timed to put those away before Enzo could finish brushing that jug. A few shortening bathed dishes piled on top of their clean fellows in the drain board was the last thing my kitchen needed. 

Once that danger had passed I drained the sink and refilled it for him with (mostly) shorting free water. Enz moved on and began brushing a spatula and soon there was a pile of shortening streaked dishes glistening greasily in the drain board. Meanwhile, Ziz was ready to start scooping her cookies.

 Aside from one instance of confusion between a teaspoon and a tablespoon, the cookies had been mixed without a hitch. The measuring confusion occurred in the matter of the vanilla, and we all know (don't we?) that cookies are all the better for a little extra vanilla, so all was well.

"At least we surprised Pop," Zizza later consoled herself and Enzo. "Oh, girl" I assured her.  "You surprised me too. I was surprised in the middle of your project instead of the end, but I was surprised all right."

When was the last time you were surprised?  

He's a stand-up guy! (10 months)

Since he's just 5 days away from 11 months I decided it was time to write a little something about 10 months.

At ten months he pulls to stand and then lets go. He's a very confident stander anymore.

At ten months his little body remembered how to gain weight. Almost a full pound in five weeks or so between his 9 month check-up and a repeat visit to be weighed. That was a lucky thing as there were threats of blood tests on the horizon if he continued to remain runty.

At ten months he continues to be a sweet and happy sunshine of a boy. He cuddles his siblings, he calls out a joyous greeting when he hears his pop come home from work. He will not stay put and play in the other room while I'm in the kitchen. Happiness, it seems, is thrusting your face into the sliver of space between your mama's legs and the kitchen cabinet while she's fixing your dinner. Yes, with the exception of one nasty diaper rash, ten months has been a good time for our Duke.

title-less

 Oh friends, thinking of my cold, lonely, shivering little blog makes me so sad. Or stressed...  Really a combination of stress, regret and longing.  I sometimes wonder if I should take an official blogging break but I don't want a break.  I want to blog.

My plan is to press forward sporadically posting until I figure out how to do it regularly again.

In the mean time, here is a list of things I am doing.
Eliminating processed foods- I've been thinking about it for a long time, I'm just now finally doing something about it.
Trying to convince my baby to gain weight- Good news; he ate three meals today!
Running- Did 3 miles one time 2 weeks ago.  That was awesome.  Maybe I should try it again sometime.
Taking kids to lessons- Cello, Let's play music, dance. This is only going to get worse.
Calling babysitters- Three is too many siblings to tote along to lessons.
Reading books- compulsively
Baking bread- See item 1
Going bare faced- I miss makeup like I miss blogging.
Daydreaming- about the clothes I'll make for myself if I ever manage to sew again
Staying up too late- Like now.  I think I'll quit that.