Smile, toes, smile! ओं यौर फीट

Don't ask.

Chillin' at work

Mira changing Orion's diaper in his under-desk in-office cave

Happy baby. At, of course, work. Wow, we need to get a life.

Oh, wait, Torrin did that for me. He arranged himself a babysitter tonight. Here I was, looking forward to going to bed, and Torrin insisted on our leaving. We went to the Coffee House and saw I Love You, Man. The babysitter? A college student whom we had not previously met. Torrin Facebooked him. He's a volunteer at the place where Torrin, Anthony, and Sophia go to after- and out-of-school programming, so it's not quite as weird as it sounds.



I now have so many more babies to report on and so much less time in which to do it!
Littlest sister Sophia turned 6 today. Her ChuckECheese-a-thon arrives on Sunday. Today she got six candles mushed into a bowl of strawberry banana ice cream.


Two Warnings for the Fair-Minded

1. Singing along to your fave 80s synth-pop jams will make a coughing-congested-croaking-frog-in-your-throat squawk in pain.
2. When your hair sprawls past your waist a ponytail is not sufficient to prevent the seat of the rowing machine from attempting to devour said ponytail.


2 weeks, no post.

what's up, what's down, what's all around?
I don't know. This baby of mine, though, is 3.5 months old and he has gotten altogether too big already. Growing like a weed, a tall, skinny weed. With fab baby chubba-cheeks.

It's still tax season, so a sliver of my scarceness can be attributed to that, along with the chiseled-off-portion that has managed to get to the YMCA a handful of times for some much needed, much wanted decompress-destress chill 'n workout time. We still have a housefull much of the time also, although the 13-year-old sister has been preferring to stay elsewhere. Somehow PGG, Poppyseed, my mother and I weaseled our way out of the house leaving 4 bigger kids (Mira, 3; Sophia, 5; Torrin, 7; and Anthony, 9 under the charge of a friend of mine while we went to an art showing deal and other assorted festivities.

Speaking of things Festive-ish, I've missed two good Festiva opportunities this past week. One was white with a gray swoosh and a big delivery-dude-type-sign attached to the car with a sizable metal pole; the other was white and just waiting for me to snap its picture in traffic but I had forgotten my memory card at work. *sigh* And I'm still kicking myself over missing Santa Claus (or rather, a large white-bearded guy) traveling in the opposite direction in a Blue Festiva. So far, we have 32 individual photographed Festivas. More to come on those later.