20 Weeks And Counting
DIARY
Pretty Little Things
First, oh my goodness, this.
A longtime RG reader, Rebecca (who blogs about home decor here and about parenting here), sent over one of the sweetest, most touching gifts I've ever received in my life: a painting with one of my favorite quotes (that's a line from Tom Waits' 'Ol' 55') for my son's room, and another with an Aerosmith quote for our daughter's nursery (which is still in progress; I'll show you when we're done!).
I love it.
Maybe Possibly A Little On Edge Over Here?
Just maybe.
OK, so remember the gnome that suddenly appeared in my yard the other day? I thought it was weird - I mean, it was way in the back of my gated-off backyard, and it's not exactly the kind of thing that blows in with the wind, so someone had to have put it there. But it could have been…I don't know, a kid messing with me? Maybe? That seems unlikely, but…it's possible, I suppose.
Anyway, it was weird.
And then, not 24 hours after my gnome discovery (and the Scary Baby In Corner incident that very nearly made me pass out), I was looking out my window and, in almost the exact same spot where I'd found the gnome, I spotted this:
Little Terror
A couple of days ago, I read this post about Horrifying Things That Children Say, like taking an elderly person's face in their hands and whispering, "it's not good-night…it's good-bye." Stuff like that, because kids are very cute and sweet and lovely, but can also be absolutely terrifying when they want to be or when they are possessed by demons (see: The Ring; Poltergeist; et cetera).
OK. So last night, around 8PM, I put my son to bed, tucked him in, and went downstairs to clean up. After puttering around on my computer for a few minutes, I made myself a bowl of ice cream and carried it upstairs. I checked on Indy, saw a huddled bunch of covers on his bed that looked fairly peaceful, shut the door, and went into my bedroom. I went over to my vanity for the bottle of nail polish I had been planning to do my nails with and noticed it was missing, but decided to just look for it in the morning.
I sat down on my bed with my ice cream to watch Lindsay (ssh, I can't help it).
And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw this:
Ok To Wake “Alarm” Clock = Very Good Thing
OK, so the transition to the Big Boy Bed was a necessary one - our crib is going to get called into action in a few months, and regardless, he couldn't stay in a crib forever - but was not without its mini-bumps. Mostly the mini-bump involving a child who has suddenly discovered that...hold on a second...he can TOTALLY GO ADVENTURING WHENEVER HE WANTS.
Hanging out in the hallway while a blissfully unaware Mom watches Walking Dead downstairs? Oh yeah.
Down to chill on the couch with some dinosaurs at three AM?! Done.
Into mom and dad's room just to say what's up at five??!!! YES PLEASE.
