portraits
blowing raspberries and stuff
since the injuns are sleeping...
I have time to post new pictures....REALLY FAST.
Where does this come from?
This morning Flannery was playing with Huck and was being especially exuberant:
"Hello my cake, hello my cookie.
Hello my muffin, marmalade and sugar."
It's almost metric.
"Hello my cake, hello my cookie.
Hello my muffin, marmalade and sugar."
It's almost metric.
Pretending Farmer Boy
So, today, Flannery was getting ready for the "county fair". Excuse me, Eliza Jane and Alice were getting ready for the "county fair". Can you guess what they were taking?
Pickled Gingerbread.
Pickled Gingerbread.
spit-up chronicles
So, both my kids have been spitters when they were small - Huck's obviously still in this...soggy phase of his life.
The real challenge with Huck is getting him to spit-up ON the spit-up rag. I wear them around the house, I hold them under his chin, I put them under his head. And yet, it's rare when he actually hits the rag. For instance, lying on his back on the floor, he squirms until the spit-up rag is twisted up around his head, then he leans over and throws up just on the other side of the rag. Or, the day I had the rag on my shoulder, and wouldn't you know it, it had a small hole in it, I put the hole out of the way and made sure there was plenty of fabric around his face, the boy actually leaned over and threw up IN the hole.
Lastly, today, I'm holding him, spit-up rag under his chin and across my hand and his chest. He leaned over and threw up....right down my sleeve.
And that, my friends, is why we call him Yucky Hucky.
The real challenge with Huck is getting him to spit-up ON the spit-up rag. I wear them around the house, I hold them under his chin, I put them under his head. And yet, it's rare when he actually hits the rag. For instance, lying on his back on the floor, he squirms until the spit-up rag is twisted up around his head, then he leans over and throws up just on the other side of the rag. Or, the day I had the rag on my shoulder, and wouldn't you know it, it had a small hole in it, I put the hole out of the way and made sure there was plenty of fabric around his face, the boy actually leaned over and threw up IN the hole.
Lastly, today, I'm holding him, spit-up rag under his chin and across my hand and his chest. He leaned over and threw up....right down my sleeve.
And that, my friends, is why we call him Yucky Hucky.
treasures from pretending
The other day as Flannery played with her new dolls and dollhouse: "It's a blessing to have old mamas."
She also gives "Wilbur" buttermilk baths and I've heard her scolding Templeton pretty regularly.
She also gives "Wilbur" buttermilk baths and I've heard her scolding Templeton pretty regularly.
Huck's infectious laughter
My life
What?!?
my fine men
and He gave us gifts
and He gave us rest
Might I point out the delicious chubble on Huckleberry's right shoulder?
The light of the world has come
Christmas morning
Teaching the boy...
Boy-o
for mom and anna
Here's my cedar garland with cranberries and Grandma Telling's candle holders - I love how boisterously traditional it is.
Advent tea party
Notice the "purple" frosting?
Friends Evelyn and Ella (among others) attended and Flannery promptly crowned herself queen of the party.
Flannerisms
So, Brendan's been reading the Little House books to Flannery which has resulted in all kinds of pretend play.
My favorite was yesterday when Flannery called "Pa" on the cellphone and asked him if Indians were attacking.
On other topics...
Flannery was talking to Huckleberry and very casually called him "Chubba Fats". He's going to have a complex.
Flannery is beginning to be interested in time - what time it is, what time it will be etc.
The other day she told Brendan that it was "free-forty-firty-fifty".
Numbers are, after all, only metaphors right?
My favorite was yesterday when Flannery called "Pa" on the cellphone and asked him if Indians were attacking.
On other topics...
Flannery was talking to Huckleberry and very casually called him "Chubba Fats". He's going to have a complex.
Flannery is beginning to be interested in time - what time it is, what time it will be etc.
The other day she told Brendan that it was "free-forty-firty-fifty".
Numbers are, after all, only metaphors right?