PractiGal

Boo!

Beware the friendly little bear who knocks at your door tonight. He may ask for just a smackerel of "hunny..."  But he'll take anything you hand out.

And beware his mother, who will likely take all of your chocolate if you give her the chance!

Happy Halloween!

Curious boy

We're knee-deep in the "Why?" stage. Knee. Deep.

And "I don't know" is not a sufficient answer. Ohhhh no.

Coincidentally, we're reading a lot of Curious George books these days. My son can't get enough of George.

Join me for a reading of Curious George's ABCs, now in progress:

Mom: "X is for X-ray" (George and his friend visit a doctor for an x-ray)

Curious Son: "Why is the man with the yellow hat not wearing his hat? Why?"

Mom: "Hmm. I don't know, honey!  (turns page) Y is for...."

Curious Son: (turns back the page) "But why?   Why?   WHY????"

Mom: "Well, he's getting x-rayed. Maybe the doctor asked him to take off his hat."

Curious Son: "Oh."

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This brings me to the conclusion that any answer other than "I don't know" is fine.

If you give a girl a blog...

... she's going to want time to update it.

And if she has time to update it, she's going to need energy and at least half an ounce of creativity to write something.

And if she has energy and a wee bit of creativity, then who wants to sit at the computer when she doesn't have to?

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My blogging mojo is low. Obviously -- it's been several days since I've updated this blog!

I've shifted from full-time work-at-home-Mom to part-time work-at-home Mom, and while that is wonderful, I can easily sum up my days: I play with and take care of my son, and when I'm not with him, I'm at the computer working. I'm trying to figure out how to carve out a little time for the things I enjoy. And I'm looking for a babysitter so that I can spend a little time alone with my husband now and then!

Shifting gears...

My little guy's preschool class went on a field trip today - his first ever! I went too, and it was a blast. All the kids and parents piled onto a wagon pulled by a tractor, for a ride out to a pumpkin patch. The kids each selected a small pumpkin and then walked over to the apple trees and each picked an apple. It was so much fun seeing the kids together, and I enjoyed getting to chat with some of the other moms.

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So I ask... how do y'all juggle it all?

The norm

Sometimes I have to wake my little guy from his nap. I like to snuggle up near him and feel his warm skin, watching while he slowly comes back to life.

Yesterday, I gently touched his knee and calf -- up and down. Eventually he stirred. And then he did the same to my leg - rubbing my knee and calf. He jolted awake, which isn't the norm. I realized that he'd noticed: I shaved my legs.

"Where's the prickles?"

I shaved! Doesn't it feel nice? All soft and smooth!

"But I want the prickles!!"

Oh, well,... they'll be back. Give it a couple of days.

... Good to know that my usual leg hygiene practices don't offend everyone!

A word problem

Let's say you have a child, and you name him Eli.

You love Eli like crazy (of course -- you're his parent).

So you go a little nuts with your vanity license plates.

You get one for your car that says: "BABY ELI."  And you get one for your spouse's car that says: "LOVE ELI."

Awww. Isn't that special?

And then, you go and have another child... whom you've presumably named something other than Eli.

Whatdya do now?

( * The name has been changed to protect the innocent. And YES, this scenario exists in my locale. * )

Who needs caffeine when you've got adrenaline?

It was just last week that I commented to my husband on my Ladder Phobia. As in, "You could not pay me enough to get up on that ladder and paint the neighbor's house."

Ask and ye shall receive.

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It's not quite 9 o'clock in the morning, and I'm helping my mother-in-law load up her car to begin her journey home. Bags, coolers, and more bags. In and out of the house along with me is my preschooler, who's all about "helping" Mommy and Grandma. Yes, you know the kind of help I'm talking about. He's in his underpants and t-shirt; I'm sporting bed-head and am in my stylish candy-cane pajama bottoms and a tank top, sans upper-body support.

I head in for the final load, and pull the back entrance screen door, which we'd been using. It is stuck.

No wait, it's worse than stuck. It's locked! We're all outside, in various forms of (un)dress, and the door is locked.

PANIC sets in instantly.

OK, remain cool, Marie, you can figure this out.

No problem! I know where there's a spare key. I grab it and head to the front door. But I can't get to the front door, because that screen door is locked too.

With those options out, I realize that I must go in through a window. Oh, and the "ground floor" at our house isn't exactly near the ground. Luckily I had opened a locked window earlier, just a bit, and I knew that particular screen could be jostled.

So I head to the garage for a ladder. As I set it up, I know it is the preschooler, my 78 year-old mother-in-law, or me who has to climb it.

Yep, time to eat my words.

And let me tell you, there is no graceful way to climb into your house, bra-less, in candy-cane PJ bottoms. Not even in front of your mother-in-law.

I never did finish my cup of tea this morning. Not that I needed it after that!