Frat Party

Leo had a good time with his boys yesterday--showing off belly buttons, watching school buses, wearing matching outfits, riding on his dump truck and it all ended with a manly embrace.

Have you met the Nuh-nos?

For awhile now, Leo has been into Elmo (or “Nuh-no” as he calls him). He first met Elmo in the book Elmo’s Book of Feelings. It seems like Elmo pops up everywhere—in other books, in the bathtub and even on his diapers.

So we bought this used stuffed Elmo at a consignment sale. Then Uncle Mark got Leo a "Tickle Me Elmo." Now he’s like an Elmo fanatic.

Frank needed to distinguish between the two Elmos so he called the smaller one “Baby Elmo.” Leo loved that name and always asks for “Baby Nuh-no.” He likes how “Tickle Nuh-no” laughs (he imitates him and it’s so cute!) but when it comes to dragging something around, it’s Baby Nuh-no all the way.

Before naptime and bedtime Leo puts both Elmos to bed by putting blankets over them on the floor. However, he recently decided that Baby Nuh-no needs to sleep about three feet away from Tickle Elmo. He says, “Night night, Nuh-no!” He often puts them to bed even when it’s not bedtime. Those Nuh-nos sure sleep a lot.

He doesn’t sleep with either Nuh-no yet but if he ever wants to, we’re pushing for Baby Nuh-no. We can’t risk him waking up after rolling over onto Tickle Me Elmo—“Hahahahaha…that tickles!!”

"Historic Value"

As Frank and I drove the five + hours to Charleston, SC this weekend, we were curious if our Hotwire-booked hotel room would be nice. Sure, it was a “boutique” hotel which usually means hip and upscale. However, it could also mean old and small. Plus, we had read on their website that they had awesome suites with views of downtown as well as “historic value rooms” (with no views mentioned).

So naturally, we ended up with the historic value room. Before I complain, though, I’ll tell you its good points:

It was very clean.
It was updated.
It had a flat screen TV.
It was in a great location.

Now let me tell the downside:

It was small.

Yes, we were expecting small but we weren’t expecting smaller than Leo’s nursery, possibly smaller than my mid-sized SUV.

It had no view.

Now when I say, “it had no view” I don’t mean I’m some sort of diva who expects to see a skyline or a body of water. I would settle for an alley. No, when I say “it had no view,” I mean it had no window that we could see out of.

One window was an interior window that looked out into the hotel hallway. The other one was a tiny way-up-high window that was just there for fire codes. See?



But since I rank my priorities as clean, good location, view, I was really okay with the good old historic value room. I think it's my duty, though, to invite you to add that term to your list of hotel room euphemisms so you have it in your mind next time you're booking a trip. Now you can include "historic value" with other well-known hotel room euphemisms like “charming,” “quaint” and “basic.”

Oh, and always beware if they’re hyping up minimal amenities like “hot water!” “A/C!” "shampoo!" "hairdryer!" and “free Bible in every room!”

Come to think of it, our room didn’t come with a Bible. If only we had booked a "religious value room..."

Haul out the Holly

Christmas came early this year with a gift from Granny Jo (and Popsy)! Granny Jo hid in the half bath and Leo and I went looking for her. When I opened the door, there was Granny Jo sitting on a ride-along dump truck! She said, “Surprise!” and scooted out of the bathroom. Leo was a little taken aback but once Granny Jo said, “It’s for you!” he perked up and now we can’t get him off the thing.

He loves the fact that he can ride it, push it, put blocks in it AND take "Baby Nuh-no" for a ride on the back.

The evolution of a germaphobe

I used to mock germaphobes: “Ha! Look at that guy who washes his hands and then uses a paper towel to open the bathroom door. What a weirdo!” I wouldn’t say I was the total opposite of a germaphobe (because that would make me just dirty I guess). But I didn’t have germs on my radar. My theory was that since I rarely got sick, I must be doing something right. And maybe coming into contact with germs (like the ones on the bathroom door handle) were actually building up my immunity.

So I was living the germ-naive life until two things happened:

1. I had a kid.
2. I saw an episode of 20/20.

It feels like kids can get sick just by looking at a germ. And a sick kid is just miserable (for both the kid and the parent). So whenever Leo is battling something I think, “What made him sick? Was it the kids at the Y? Was it the grocery store? Was it that blade of grass he dragged in from outside? I’ll do everything in my power to prevent this from ever happening again!”

And that’s when I started going a little crazy with the Clorox wipes. I’m wiping light switches, remotes, counter tops, the high chair, all of Leo’s toys, doorknobs, the fridge handle, the trash cans…I think I might have Clorox wiped a dog who walked by.

I also got a hold of this cool hand sanitizing spray. I spray Leo’s hands and my hands. We say, “Spray, spray, rub rub.” I think we spray, spray, rub, rub about 23 times a day.

Speaking of hands, it was the 20/20 episode that got me on that band wagon. The reporter put his hands under a bacteria detector thing and his hands were gross! They had things on them that looked like fungi and algae and all sorts of other g’s.

Now I just assume my hands have all sorts of microscopic foreign matter on them. I wash them so much they’re all red and cracked.

I don’t enjoy being a germaphobe. I’m hoping I can go back to being just germ-aware after flu season is over. Then I’ll only wash my hands after using the bathroom and before I eat—not necessarily because I touched a doorknob.

But those Clorox wipes, I really like those. I don’t know if I can give those up. I might need a support group.

Kissin' Cousins

Leo was first-cousinless until a few weeks ago when Baby Elizabeth Maureen Simcik was born to Uncle "Safety Dave" and Aunt Laura on 10/17. Leo has only met Baby Ellie through Skype twice and seen some of her pictures on the computer. Still, he can't stop talking about her. Sometimes he just randomly shouts, "Baby Ah-yee!"

Yesterday I told him Granny Jo was coming to visit and he said, "Baby Ah-yee?" I think he thinks Granny Jo is going to bring Baby Ellie since they were on Skype together. And when we got on Skype to call Frank's parents, we said, "Leo, who are we going to call?" He said, "Baby Ah-yee!"

He thinks every baby is Baby Ellie--babies in books, babies out in public and a birth announcement we have on our fridge of Baby Celia. Sorry, Courtney and John, we don't bother correcting him! It's easier just to go along with it:

And here she is, beautiful Baby Ellie! We all can't wait to meet Baby Ah-yee at Christmas!

"Scuba!"

When Leo says, "Scuba!" it doesn't mean he's ready for deep-sea diving. (Thank goodness because I have no interest in ever doing that). It means "School Bus." He's really into those big yellow things. He spots them when we're in the car all the time: "Scuba!" And he's making the connection that the "Scuba" is what we're singing about in "The Wheels on The Bus."

I think I've bragged about this before but Leo can do all the moves to the Wheels on the Bus unprompted! I just say, "The wheels on the bus go" and he does this motion with his hands like he's trying to roll them. And when I say, "The babies on the bus say" he puts his hands up to his eyes and says "Wah Wah Wah." He swishes his hands for the wipers, opens and closes his arms for the doors, bobs up and down for the kids, shushes for the mommies and beeps for the horn. Oh, and the best is the driver who says "Move on back." Leo throws his hand forward and just says, "Moo."

But you'll have to take my word for it because I cannot seem to get it on camera! Here, I've got a little bit of "scuba" followed by one verse of "wheels on the bus" which ends with a bunch of "no, no, no."

New Take on Totally

Thanks to my friendtasy from The Hills, Lo, I've got a super cool new catch phrase: "Toats McGoats."

It means, simply, "totally."

Lo rivals Liz with her clever language. Although Lo is a real faux celeb and Liz is a faux faux celeb.

So Lo was listening to Audrina ramble on about some drama with Kristin and Lo responded with "Toats."

And if that wasn't cool enough already, she added "McGoats."

I, personally, love adding "Mc" to things. For instance, I call Frank "Sweaty" and I often add "McBetty." I can't think of any other examples but I plan to do it more often.

I also have another Lo-ish term I use a lot: If I think something is ridiculous or silly I say "Sils." Like "You're sils" or "That's sils" or sometimes I just say, "sils."

I can see Lo saying that. Totally. I mean toats mcgoats.

Too Hot v. Too Cold

It’s starting to get a little cold here in Atlanta and as always, when temps start to change, my mind returns to the age-old question: Would I rather be really hot or really cold?

To me, this is more perplexing than the chicken or the egg. I cannot come up with a good answer. Now if you’re not someone who often wonders about your preferences for hot v. cold but you want to become that person, let me give you this warning: do not pose the question while under extreme temperatures—neither hot nor cold. If you do, you won’t find a true answer. If you ask yourself if you’d rather be hot or cold on the 4th of July at 2pm in Dallas, Texas, you’re definitely gonna go with arctic conditions. If you ask the question on February 23rd while wearing a t-shirt in Durango, Colorado (little plug for my Durango family!) you’re gonna wish it were Dallas on 4th of July. It's kinda like going to the grocery store when you're really hungry.

But now is a good time to ask the question—at least if you’re here in Atlanta. It’s in the 60s. It’s pretty nice. So let’s break it down with a good old pro/con list:

Really Hot:
Pros: You can wear very little clothing. You can always cool off in a pool. Sweat sometimes makes for good styling gel. Good excuse to drink cold drinks like beer and margaritas.

Cons: The extreme sweating ruins make-up, can destroy a hair-do (for those of us who are major head sweaters) and can make you look silly if you’re prone to armpit stains. And as Frank says, “You can always put on more clothes. You can only take off so many.” (He is a vocal proponent of “really cold.”)

Really Cold:
Pros: Like Frank said, you can always put on more clothes. Hair always looks good. Cold air gives face that pinkish glow (hot air does that too, actually). Good excuse to drink warm drinks like hot chocolate and cider.

Cons: dry skin, chapped lips, shaking, overall miserableness.


Well this didn’t help one bit. In general, I prefer warmer temps and everything that goes with that but we’re not talking about warm, we’re talking about hot. And I’ve left several UT football games because I was too hot. But cold…ugh. Being really cold is just plain awful.

Now I’m no closer to my answer AND I have that Katy Perry song stuck in my head: “You’re hot then you’re cold, you’re yes then you’re no…”

Scenes from Halloween

We were pumped because of the Saturday Halloween. However, we weren’t so pumped when it started to rain and get cold. We had no “plan B” for Leo’s not-so-covering basketball outfit. So while I was setting up for the neighborhood Halloween party, Frank scrambled and stuck a red shirt and PJ pants under Leo’s costume. It worked in his favor though. In the costume contest (in which every child wins an award), Leo won for “coolest costume.”

With Mama and Dada (our UT clothes always work well on Halloween)!

With Tigger (BFF John)

"Why can't I walk on the swimming pool cover?"

"Cheese!" (Speaking of, John and Leo chowed down on cheese pizza!)

Hugging John...who could resist? He's so cuddly in that tiger outfit!

We were reminiscing about how last year, John and Leo wore their matching PJs and giggled on the floor. Flashback to Halloween 2008!

Leo's been here 18 months

It’s Leo’s half birthday! He was super sick on Wed. and part of Thursday but he rallied and appears to be perfect, just in time for the 18-month chair pics and Halloween!

Here are the cute things he does lately:

We can practically have conversations now (which is awesome because I love to chat too)! The other day I tried to list out all the words he could say. I thought of over 50. The rest of the day it was like he was trying to tell me all the words I left off because there were a lot: Texas, Meow, bowl, etc. So I think with all these additional ones we’re at least at 75.

His favorite word is "no" and he answers every question with "no." Funny that he can say so many words but "yes" is not one of them!

First three syllable word: umbrella. That’s the one good thing about all the rain we’ve been having—Leo learned a new word! He says it like, “Uh-bell-lah!” He was trying to push the umbrella down the other day and I said, “No, it goes over our heads” and he said, “Oh ah heads.”
Speaking of sentences, he can say a few of those: “I made it!” He says this because it’s in his book, “Leo the Late Bloomer.” He also says, “Bye bye, Mama” and “bye bye” to other people and animals (which is technically a sentence)!

He also says “bye bye” to inanimate objects like balls. Whenever we leave to go somewhere he says, “bye bye, ball” or he gets real specific like, “bye bye, football” or “bye bye, kick ball.”

He really likes to say “sleep sack” except he says “seep slack.” When it’s time to go to sleep he says “seep slack” and when he wakes up he says, “bye bye, seep slack.”

He likes to say good night to Elmo: “Night night, Nu-no.”

When we read him books, he often knows what’s coming before we say it. Like in the book, “Moo, Baa, La la la,” we say “The cow says” and Leo says “Moo” and then we say, “The sheep says” and he says “Baa” and we say, “Three singing pigs say” and Leo says “La la la.”

He loves animal sounds—he knows the ones above plus neigh (which he says with that horsey-vibrato), meow, bow wow wow, quack, oink and roar.

I guess his eyes are sensitive to light because whenever he sees the sun he says, “Eyes!” He also says this if he starts to cry.

He knows how to say his name but I’m not sure he likes it. When I say, “Is your name Leo?” He says, “No!” I say, “What is your name?” “Baby.”

And just this week he started saying, “No no, Leo” but it sounds like, “Nono, ee-oh.”

He likes to pick up my purse, put it on his shoulder and say, “bye bye.” This is not Frank’s favorite thing that he does!

He’s funny with food: If he’s eating something and I bring out the next thing, he spits out what he’s eating. I have to remember not to let him see the next “course” until he’s completely chewed up the last bite of what he was working on. The mention of “pancake” if he’s eating egg means all the egg is going to come out on the bib.

He says “Mmm goo” meaning “Mmm good” when he eats something he likes.

He’s good at feeding himself with a spoon and before every bite he says “Beeg bite” as in “big bite.”

He likes his frozen mini pancakes so much he actually points to the freezer and says “pah-cake!”

He knows what’s next in the routine: Like when we get him out of the bathtub he says, “teeth” meaning it’s time to brush teeth. But he tried to trick us the other night. We said, “What comes next?” and he said, “Play!” He also starts singing “Tinkle tinkle” and doing the hand motions to “Twinkle Twinkle” as soon as we cut off the light.

He loves to throw balls in the sink; I’ll be cleaning dishes and I find a football.

He knows whose house is whose: We’ll arrive at Claire’s and he says “Kit Kat.” We go to Chantal’s and he says says “Ike.” Okay, so maybe he knows which animals live in which houses.

He understands possession: “Dada bike” and “Mama bike”

I can give him directions to follow like, “Go get that dish towel for mommy” and “Go get your Elmo book out of the drawer.” He knows what I’m saying! Sometimes he even dries a dish or two!

When I say daddy’s at work he says, “mow.” He thinks Frank mows lawns for a living.

He knows all the movements to his favorite songs like the Wheels on the Bus and the Itsy Bitsy Spider. I don't even have to do the movements. I can just say, "The driver on the bus says" and he motions with his hand and says something like, "Moo back" for "move on back."

He likes to play with the computer mouse so this took me about four hours to finish :)

Extra! Extra!

Someone at the Y saw this in the local neighbor paper and cut it out for me. I didn't even know about it! Well, I knew there was a photographer there but I was hoping she was hearing my silent prayer: "Darn. I didn't shower. Please don't use my picture." I'm not convinced that we're doing the right moves to the Itsy Bitsy Spider but I am encouraged that we're in sync.

DIY should not apply to grocery store checkout lines

When it comes to self service gas pumps, we totally have it down. We’re fast and efficient at fueling. There’s no need for full service (although I had a sorority sister who still insisted on full service and when we’d arrive at a gas station that didn’t offer it, she’d bribe one of us to do it).

So if we’re so good at pumping gas, why are we still pathetic at scanning our own groceries?

Even if you think you’re good at it, the rest of obviously aren’t. I mean, if we were, there wouldn’t be anymore “full service” checkout lanes. There would just be a bunch of “U-Scan-Its.” At most grocery stores the ratio is like 15 to 4.

Or maybe the question isn’t why are we so bad at scanning groceries but rather, why are supermarket cashiers so good at it?

For instance, I always have to turn the product over multiple times, searching for the SKU. They seem to catch the SKU no matter how they turn it.
And they know those PLU codes for produce as well as I know my multiplication tables. (I guess I should point out that I totally rock at the MTs. I was the second-grade master of this game “Around the World.”)

Yesterday my self-scanning skills were really put to the test. It ended with me telling the self-scanning employee that I’m never returning to that Kroger. It’s a long story and if I told you the whole thing, you would think I was a complete weirdo and refuse to read my blog anymore much less socialize with me. So I’ll just give you the censored version:


There was only one cashier line open. There were at least six shoppers in it. At least three of them had overflowing carts. I was in a hurry, had about twenty items. I had a choice: self-service or get in the back of the line (which was starting to snake through the store, ten people deep).

I reluctantly chose the self-service and immediately began having issues:
“Remove your last item from the bagging area.”
“Please see attendant.”


I became enraged because I felt that Kroger put me in this situation by not opening up another line. I told the self-service employee (who I had to go drag over there from another part of the store because I kept needing assistance), “When I worked at a grocery store, the rule was that if there were three customers in a line, you called for back-up. THREE! That line had like ten!”

That wasn’t a complete lie because that was our rule at Michael’s Arts and Crafts. However, I later realized that she was probably onto me. I mean, if I had ever worked at a grocery store wouldn’t I be better at scanning? It took me at least twenty minutes to finish checking out. Of course during that time there was an incident with some packaged fruit that I accidentally destroyed and a verbal/loudish complaint to the manager—all of which could have contributed to the length of my self-scanning experience. But again, I’ll spare you the details.

Just know that so dramatic was the scene that it solidified three things for me:

1. I cannot go into that Kroger anytime soon.
2, I will never have the skills to be a cashier.
3. From now on I will always go full-service at grocery stores (or bribe friends to do the self-scanning for me).

Fill 'Er Up

Granny Jo asked me the other day if Leo still liked to play in the car she and Popsy gave him for his 1st birthday. Boy, does he! I told her that everytime we go in the garage, he gets in his car. He can open the door, climb in and drive away (except he still has trouble going forward).

He likes to turn the keys and say "KEY!" and honk the horn and say "BEEP!" He noticed the other day that the car has "EYES!"

But when it comes to putting gas in the car, well, he's a little confused:

3rd Annual Trip to Helen

The first year we moved here, we discovered Oktoberfest in Helen, Ga--just about an hour-and-a-half north of Atlanta. We know it's cheesy but we don't care! It's free on Sundays, the trees are usually changing color, they've got beer and brats and most importantly, they do the chicken dance like every five minutes:

2007--pregnant with Leo

2008: with Leo at five months

2009: with Leo at 17 months

It was colder this year which made it even more fun! Here are a few pics from our day of German fun.

Don't worry, we didn't give him beer...just a cup!

Leo loved the one-man-band but refused to give him money. Just like daddy.

Look: Leo's hair is long enough to stand up!!

A glimpse of fall:

Crock Pot Creations

I recently learned the coolest trick with the crock pot. It's really the best thing to happen to my crock pot since I learned that cream of chicken soup can be mixed with anything to create a good CP meal.

It was this super simple way to make shredded chicken from Recipe Zaar. You just get yourself six boneless/skinless chicken breasts, throw them in the crock pot with a little water, S&P and garlic and cook on low for 8-10 hours. When it's done, you pull it apart with forks.

Now I've done something similar before but it involved more ingredients. The genius behind this one was that they suggested storing it in several baggies and freezing it. Then you'd have all this chicken on-the-ready for BBQ sandwiches, soups, pizza and enchiladas.

On the day that I cooked my shredded chicken, I made BBQ sandwiches.
Then I froze it--just like the Recipe Zaar people told me to--and a week later (last night) I created a brilliant Mexican/BBQ dish.

I haven't named it yet. I'm going to name it right now:

Elsa's Mexi-Q Casserole!

I love it.

Here's what it looks like and let me just insert this caveat: I took this picture of the leftovers so it looks sort of nasty. But when Frank ate it last night he said, "This might be a ten!" I'm gonna round that up to a real ten.



Here's what's in it and again, I totally just made this up on the fly (with a toddler scrambling under foot the entire time, I'd like to add):

I defrosted the frozen shredded chicken that I had bagged up from the crock pot.
Put frozen shredded in a big pot and drizzled some olive oil. Cooked on medium.
Added seasonings like Crushed Red Pepper, S&P, Cumin and this Ancho Chili stuff my mom brought me.
Threw in a can of black beans, drained.
Tossed in a can of Rotel, drained. I don't like things soupy!
Cooked on medium a littler longer.

Took some tortillas, shredded them (like I was making King Ranch Chicken) and put them in a baking dish.
Put spinach leaves on top of that to give the dish some veggies.
Poured 1/2 the chicken, black beans and Rotel mixture over that.
Another layer of tortillas
Rest of the chicken mixture
Poured some salsa on top.

Baked in oven at 350 for 25 minutes.

You'll notice I didn't add cheese which is a staple in any Mexican dish. I'm currently avoiding dairy so I just added shredded cheese to Frank's individual servings.
I thought it was awesome without cheese though!

Frank's quote: "This is so good! It's like BBQ and Mexican all mixed together!" And then came the ten rating...well, the "maybe a ten" which is good enough for me!

Dundies!

I pulled a hanger out of the coat closet because it was all warped. I said, "It's dundies!" Now Leo can't stop saying it!

Signs, Signs, Everywhere a Sign

We have a sign like this on a road near my house. I’ve got two problems with it:

1. It says it’s “putting America to Work” but there’s no work going on around it (unless you count the lone tractor sitting idly behind the sign).
2. It cost $1,600--$1,500 to produce the sign and $100 to install it.

I’m not a math expert but if the sign costs $1,600 and the plan is to pay people to fix a road that’s not even broken, that doesn’t sound like a profitable project.

Luckily, I’m not the only one who thinks this. After the Atlanta Journal Constitution wrote an article, revealing the high cost of these signs, people got steamed. The Georgia Department of Transportation decided to stop producing the signs.

It reminds me of the time the government was sending everybody stimulus money. Is that what we called it or is the word “stimulus” just on my brain? Anyway, rather than just sending it, they had to mail us not one, but TWO letters, telling us it was coming.

Note to the government: If you’re going to give people money or give people jobs, just do it. Don’t spend money talking about it. What’s that biblical verse about “when giving alms, don’t let the right hand know what the left is doing?” or the other one about not playing a trumpet in the street to brag about something great you did? That totally applies here.

But I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. Thanks for our sign and for our stalled tractor. I get to pass it every day; makes me smile.

The Potty Song

Granny Jo has this special song she used to sing with her kids when they were little and learning to use the potty. Leo's not close to potty training yet but I thought it would be fun for him to be able to at least do the movement to the song before Granny Jo comes in November.

It took him about one minute to learn it! See for yourself:

Clueless about Clueless

In 1995 my friends and I were wild about the movie Clueless. It was the summer after my senior year in high school and we saw the movie over and over again. And the picture above was tacked onto my bulletin board. For some reason I guess I thought I could relate to Cher. Let's explore the similiarities:

We both have blonde hair.

We both say really cool catch phrases. Oh, wait. That's just Cher.

Some of my faves? (Thanks to IMDB for the refresher):

"Dionne and I were both named after famous singers of the past, who now do infomercials."

"So okay, I don't want to be a traitor to my generation and all but I don't get how guys dress today. I mean, come on, it looks like they just fell out of bed and put on some baggy pants and take their greasy hair - ew - and cover it up with a backwards cap and like, we're expected to swoon? I don't think so."

"If it's a concussion, you have to keep her conscious, okay? Ask her questions."

"What's seven times seven?"

"Stuff she knows!"

"It's like that book I read in the 9th grade that said 'tis a far far better thing doing stuff for other people.'"

"So, this flannel thing. Is that a nod to the crispy Seattle weather, or are you just trying to stay warm in front of the refrigerator?"

"Do you think she's pretty?"

"No, she's a full-on Monet."

"What's a Monet?"

"It's like a painting, see? From far away, it's OK, but up close, it's a big old mess."

I laughed in all the right places. I used the lines in daily conversation. But even after seeing the movie at least 17 times (14 in that summer), there was one line I thought I got but I didn't:

"Dee, my mission is clear. Would you look at that girl? She is so adorably clueless. We have got to adopt her."
"Cher, she is toe-up. Our stock would plummet."

Now, I never did pretend to know what 'toe-up' meant. Still don't. But that's not what I'm talking about:

I used to always think when she said, "our stock would plummet" that she meant "we would run out of resources." I guess, after working at Michael's where I'd hear things like "gotta see if we have that in stock" I thought of "stock" as inventory.

But now that we're in the Great Depression of 2009 (too bad it wasn't 2007; that would sound so much cooler), I hear about stocks falling, even plummeting. And the other day it hit me: "Wait a second. In that line from Clueless, she's talking about her stock as in her stock value not as in her stock pile!"

It's way funnier now.

I'm gonna need to catch that movie again. Maybe this time I'll realize that Christian is gay before Murray exposes him:

"He's a disco-dancing, Oscar Wilde reading, Streissand ticket holding friend of Dorothy, know what I'm saying?"

Post Nap Performance

When Leo gets up from his nap, he's really hyper. Sometimes I just sit there and watch him do things like this:

Having a Ball

I ran into a woman I know at a consignment sale; she’s a mom of a three-year-old. She was telling me tips on the types of trains I should get when Leo gets into that stuff. I said, “Right now he’s just into balls.” She said, “Yeah, at that age they’re all into balls…”


Um, I don’t think I explained myself correctly. Did I say he’s “into” balls? Because that’s putting it mildly. He’s OBSESSED with balls. Here is the evidence:

Every morning when he wakes up, I open his door and he can see into his play room. He always points and says, “Beeg ball!” about the biggest of all the balls he has.

And speaking of all the balls he has, let me count them: there’s beeg ball, two medium-sized blue balls, two small balls (one with Diego and one with Little Ensteins), a wire ball with holes in it, a football, a rubbery baseball, a small basketball and six little balls that go with his ball-popping machine. That’s 15 balls. And I’m sure I’m forgetting about some.

Yesterday we bought the little basketball at Target. He didn’t see it until the check-out lane. When he did he said, “Ball, ball, ball, ball, ball…” until the cashier gave it to him. Then he said, “Ball, ball, ball, ball, ball…” all the way out to the car and then throughout the rest of our car ride. When we went into the next store I told him we had to say “Bye bye” to the ball so he said, “Bye bye, ball” and then repeated that all through the next store. Then it was “ball, ball, ball, ball” all the way home as he held it in the car.

But he doesn’t just hold balls. He throws them. And he throws them really well! He holds them up over his head and launches them across the room. If anyone walks in the house, he tries to get them to throw the ball with him—even the cable guy and the exterminator.

He also likes to "Keek the ball." But if you "keek" the ball when he wanted you to throw it (or vice versa), watch out. There are lots of rules to his ball games.

When we arrive at any child care center (the Y, Mother’s Morning Out or the church nursery), the people working there immediately say, “Come on, Leo. Let’s go find a ball.”

When I tell him we’re going to the Y, he says, “Ball?”

When we get to the Y, he runs over to the window where you can see into the basketball courts. He watches the guys play basketball and says “Bah ball.”

He thinks anything round is a ball--fruit, vegetables, buttons, clocks. The other day he pointed at the sun and said, “ball.”

He likes to watch sports on TV just so he can see the ball. He even likes golf!

He loves his basketball hoop in the backyard and I think he would shoot forever if we would let him. He runs to the window and says, “Bah-ball!”

He’s developing more games with the ball—first there was high ball, then door ball and lately he’s taken to throwing the ball on the countertops and into the kitchen sink. My least favorite? Toilet ball.

Yesterday he and Frank developed what I guess we’ll call arm-basketball. Here we are playing it. Sometimes he misses and hits our faces; hence my reaction!

So maybe one day it will be trains or trucks or dogs or robots. But right now, it's all about the ball.

It’s better than Cyndi Lauper

Thank goodness for The Office. Not only do I enjoy watching the TV show that features quirky Dwight, ridiculous Michael and monotone Toby, it's helped to shift attention away from my past lookalike to my new one:

Whaddya think? Angela from The Office, my long lost twin?

Sure, I’d prefer Reese or Kate or some other blonde mega star but I ain’t complaining. Because, trust me, I’ve heard worse. ("Girls just wanna have fun" is ringing in my ears.)

I get it ALL THE TIME now!

I get it so much that when people start to tell me, they say, “You probably hear this a lot but…”

The first time someone said it, I hadn’t heard it a lot because, well, it was the first time. It was two years ago when I had first moved to Atlanta. I didn’t like it because I was focusing too much on her character. I thought, “I’m way more fun than her!”

But now I’m okay with it. The most recent time I heard it was when I was at a restaurant a couple of weeks ago. I said to the guys at the table next to ours, “Don’t you think our waitress looks like Megan Fox?” They said, “I don’t know but you look just like the girl from The Office! I bet if I took a picture with you and sent it to my friends, they would think you were her!”

Then they told me not to tell the waitress that she looked like Megan Fox because it would totally go to her head. Too late. And it did go to her head.

So what are they saying? That telling someone they look like Angela from The Office wouldn’t go to her head? Well it's gone to mine. And I'm running with it. In fact, I think Angela, Cyndi and I are all gonna get together and mess with people's heads. Girls just wanna have fun, ya know.

Take that, Tunnels

Leo loves slides. But there is one type of slide he always avoids: the tunnel slides. If they're enclosed and tube-like, he wants nothing to do with them. Whenever we'd approach one, he'd shake his head and say "No No."

But then, a breakthrough. At the Children's Museum he went through a tunnel slide that looked like a tree trunk:





Still, I thought maybe that was just a fluke. I mean, it DID look like a tree. It wasn't that long of a tunnel and it had a hole in the top.

But then, at a new playground this weekend Leo went down an honest-to-goodness tunnel slide!

Frank rolled a ball down the slide so Leo had to go catch it!

This pic below isn't a tunnel slide; it's just cute!

And just in case you thought that was another fluke, he tunneled some more at our regular park today!

Cure fear of tunnels? CHECK.

Cure fear of inflatable cars filled with balls? Still working on it.