yesterday's moments

I have two favorite moments from yesterday.

1. Jude found a feather on the floor of my room and brought it over to me. I told him to blow on it and it flew delicately into the air. His smile cracked wide. We spent the next thirty minutes lying head to head on my floor, blowing the feather up and up into the air, watching it float down onto our heads or into our hands.

2. During snack time, Jude and I took a box of crackers into the front room. I sat on the floor in front of the couch and Jude sat on my lap facing me. He pulled cracker after cracker from the box, always supplying one for my mouth and one for each of his hands. Occasionally he would grab the cracker from my mouth and take a bite, and then stick it back in. Half a cracker box later, cracker crumbs cover both of our shirts and we're both signing, "all done."

Afternoon in the park....

What my broom and mop have been up to the last 24 hours

This picture is completely unrelated to the post. I just think it's cute.

1. Wiping gobs of full-cream yogurt from the floor, the cabinets, the fridge, my face. I dropped the container and. it. went. ev.er.y.where. Saintly Mike cleaned that one up.

2. Sweeping up shards of a glass bowl that I dropped after breakfast this morning. What is with my butter fingers over here? I have no explanation. Only shame.

3. Sweeping up millions of grains of quinoa that I spilled while trying to measure a cup full with Jude in my arms. I'm sure the villains are still rolling around in cracks and crevices undetected.

4. Sweeping up millions of specks of yeast that I spilled all over the floor and inside the fridge (?!?) while making bread today. Someone please tell me I can blame all of this on something external to myself?

One kitchen floor highlight: Today while I was cooking, Jude dropped his sippy cup and it leaked some milk onto the floor. Jude immediately chimed, "Uh. Oh. Uh. Oh. Uh. Oh." casually walked over to the oven and pulled a towel off the rack, bent over, and mopped the spill up. I almost cried. He's a genius! Does this mean he has seen me scrubbing the floor (which I obviously have to do often given my penchant for spilling things) and learned that I hate to do it, that mommy loves a clean floor (and yes, I do refer to myself in third person)? Does this mean he will stop throwing food overboard from his highchair to prevent like spillage? As if. But I almost died of cuteness.

Shorn

The other night, Mike cut Jude's hair. I was thinking maybe a trim was in order. Apparently, Mike thought that Jude needed to join the Marines. I'm in mourning. And yes, I saved a lock.

For Laura

See, I wasn't kidding. He really did poke me in the eye.

Sometimes, when you are teething and four gnarly molars are busting through at once, your mom lets you eat popsicles until you are in a sugar coma.

Don't judge me.

What to do with side-walk chalk

1. Make beauutiful art.




2. Eat it. Or, stick it up your nose. Or both. Alternately.




3. Make a run for it and try and decorate your neighbor's mailbox.

The Boy Who Lived

I wore some silver string (i.e. cage) and an owl beanie baby (Hedwig) around my neck. Yes, I was his accessory. And for my sacrifice and cleverness, he poked me in the eye with his wand.

Bath Time

Montana: Day Two

This will not reflect well on me....

But...the other day Mike and I had his sister babysit while we went out (bless her soul). As we explained how to best put Jude down for bed, Mike and I disagreed about the most effective method. To sing a soft song or not? To rock him sweetly or not? (You'll never guess which side of things I was on...) I was ticked that Mike disagreed with my recommendations (he pooh-poohed them, really...furrowed his brow, scoffed) and I was frustrated (nay, fuming) as we left the house. Sitting in the car, I told him of my frustration and then called him a meanie-head. He then called me a meanie-face. This conversation ensued:

Me: "Bum-face!"
Mike: "Wiener-head!"
Me: "Boobie-buns!"
Mike: "Poopy-face!"

I laughed myself silly; we both did. Mature, no? It was surprisingly difficult to come up with 12-year-old-boy insults. I don't recommend resolving all conflicts this way, but..hey...it worked. Tension diffused. Turns out we had misunderstood each other anyway...Mike is all for songs and rocking and such cuddly stuff at the appropriate time in the ritual.

Montana 2010: Day One

Over Labor Day, Mike, Jude, and I and Mike's brother Pete, his wife, Meagan, and their little guy, Tyler, all made the trek to Montana to enjoy some family time and some beauties of the area. The first day we spent the day in Glacier National Park. So beautiful! Here are a few pictures of our first day!

Homeward Bound

Last night we drove back home through the night. Mike made me a little nest of pillows and blankets in the back, we tucked Jude into his carseat with his beloved blanket, Mike popped in Harry Potter on CD and off we went into the sunset, palm trees swaying behind us.

Between Baker and Barstow, at about midnight, Mike called to me quietly and I roused from my nest to crawl into the front seat. A lightening storm surrounded us in the black night. Thick, zig-zagging streaks of lightening touched down all around us, so close, lighting the sky with dramatic electric, flourescent light. I gripped Mike's arm, mesmerized, awed, a little scared. Jim Dale reading Harry Potter played quietly in the background and Jude slept on. Mike dropped his hand from the wheel and we held hands through the storm. Watching the lighting together felt intimate beautiful, these cracking, brilliant flashes touching down all around us while we traveled safely on.

Mr. and Mrs. Gustafson

P.S. Jude is walking like a phenom.

Goodbye, Primary...

So, Mike, Jude and I have moved. Closer to law school and family and the center of things. I'm thrilled. It happened quickly and we lost some things on the way (Think of our two couches flying wildly off the back of our trailer and onto the highway. Like big, fat, leather kites. They broke. Badly. But nobody was hurt, and, although worse for the wear, Mike and his brother fixed them, mostly. It's almost like magic. Except that it took half of a day). I can walk places, like the library (!!!), and I can go into different rooms (!!!) and I could make carpet angels we have so much space. Like I said, I'm thrilled. But, we will miss our little apartment and our congregation, specifically the little class that we taught. The kids were so delightful and sweet and we loved them. Here they are, in all of their ridiculously cute glory.