K: nursing less (plugged duct/infection to show for that), talking more, daddy-love all the time, can spend long periods at the kitchen sink playing, never forgets his vitamin.
K: nursing less (plugged duct/infection to show for that), talking more, daddy-love all the time, can spend long periods at the kitchen sink playing, never forgets his vitamin.
Remember this post ? Well, so much for the softening effect of pansies. R can't remember their name but calls them "those angry flowers."
And in case we haven't discussed enough layers of meaning within the whole gargoyle issue, here is what I discovered today in the mouth of our fierce guardian.
And speaking of fierce. I don't usually discuss TV much here, but for those of you who watch Lost, I have a few words about the finale:
Sayid and Sawyer: serious badass - don't you think?
You have a dream of a model walking down a runway in a dress that's deliberately layered with fruit cobbler.
(that would be project runway and top chef)
OK, enough of humiliating myself...
So, one of our favorite shows was on Tuesday, concluding a three-episode storyline about a teen who may or may not have murdered a woman, and who was in love and physically involved with his mother (evan inserts loud SQUICK here). OK, fine, plenty to work with in that plot. I was loving the bizarre dwarf-loving, suit-tailoring weirdness of James Spader and William Shatner, when suddenly the mother announces that she'd homeschooled the kid.
In my lifetime, I'd like to see some tv reference to home education that isn't part of a freak show. Believe it or not, most of us are normal. Boring even.
(Of course, Jamie's been walking around all day calling me "governer," in an english accent, so I may need to rethink this rant.)
It pains me to admit, but I did watch The View once or twice a week. Well, no longer. I will follow the suggestion of the Cow Goddess. Off to the website to send them so breastfeedback.
One of Kellen's favorite places is on a blanket on his and Ryan's dresser. We use that as a changing table, and he enjoys the window, or the altitude, or the energy of the old dresser... I have no idea what it is, but he is always happy up there. So we often take time there, talking and smiling, and Ryan pulls up a stool or chair to join me.
Today, just as I was about to take them out, Ryan took a wrong step and fell off his perch. He wasn't hurt, but had grasped the blanket to catch himself, pulling Kellen completely off the top of the dresser. He fell, completely head-first, toward the floor. I caught him by ONE ankle when he was inches from hitting.
My heart was pounding; it was all done in a split second, and I just couldn't believe how lucky we were. It took a good half hour for me to stop clutching them and breathe at a normal rate. In hindsight, knowing everyone's fine, I feel a bit like a combination of Wonder Woman and The Flash. Or, if you watch that dreadful "So You Want To Be A Superhero," you are familiar with Fat Momma. I could be her.
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