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.