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.

6!

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.

le jour de mardi gras (avec un enfant)

A fistful of grandma's hair for the ride.

pobrecito

On Monday, Mira was sick. It's not often that she willingly puts herself down for a nap, but that day, she did. Horrid cough, tired and hot little girl.

On Tuesday, she felt better. The cough lingered. And happy Orion looked like this at work:

On Wednesday, Mira was feeling even better. But Orion had inherited the congestion and fever.
Today is Thursday. He isn't warm, but he's still feeling cruddy. His voice is still a squeak, and he snuffles as he breathes. He's eating better, though, and hopefully his sickness arc will continue to approximately follow Mira's so that tomorrow he will feel mostly well again (and return to his joyful babbling that he can't cobble together today through his sore throat).

This morning Torrin was holding a CD and the light reflected on Mira's face, creating a nice rainbow effect:

Here's to hoping that Orion is just as sunny tomorrow as Mira is today.

bananagrams (like scrabble, no board)

Claro, que Claire.

She has only been here since December 31st. She started school here on January 21. She came from a town smaller in number than the middle school she's now attending--and there are 12 others of similar size in this district.

No matter. Hastily she ascended to the top of the heap. Number one on the girls A team, in bands, choruses, and AP classes.

She's gorgeous, too--looking semi-scandalous in her skinny jeans without trying. Already amidst the he-wants-to-ask-me-out drama of eighth grade even in this new territory. The type of drama I mostly avoided merely by existing on a smaller social scale, even though I grew up here, accustomed to the crowds. She's not used to homely homeboys whistling and uttering utter nonsense as she strolls past. I'm trying to figure out if the trials and tribulations of the Popular Kids will serve her better than the hyjinks of the not-quite-outcasts. I'm both proud of her and bewildered. How did she grow up so fast?

My little 13 year old sister, taller than me, full of potential...such a loaded word, potential. Potentially amazing, potentially disastrous. Potent. Potency.

Whatever it is, she's got it.

More Mutilation

So, the refried beans can was very scary.

Indeed, this situation is similarly grave.

What kind of product origin message is this to put on a package? What company is so cavalier in its flippancy?

Why not just print, MADE SOMEWHERE? MAYBE ON THIS PLANET, MAYBE NOT? I'll tell you. It's the same kind of company that mutilates poor, innocent bears.

A strange bag of gummy bears, that one was.

bikin' bear baby

Orion loved his first bicycle ride.
For those observant folks out there...there's a Festiva in the background. That one is #9 in the Official Festiva Project; 27 total Festivas have been documented to date.

Whodunnit?

Your guess is as good as mine.













It must have been painful.

Way too fast.

Somehow my little Poppyseed had grown into a big, smiling, cooing, rolling over baby. What happened?

Terror Stricken, and 76 cents

Mira (3) and Sophia (5) wanted to paint their finger- and toenails. I agreed to help with this endeavor, and was surprised a few minutes later to find Torrin (7) polishing Mira's toes. He intended only to do Mira's toes, but 76 cents was enough to convince him to paint fingernails and Sophia's also--freeing me from duty.

Speaking of duty, I have not fulfilled mine. I bought my Kia over six months ago. We hit 10,000 miles on Wednesday at 5:30pm on the way home from work. But?

I still haven't registered and licensed the thing. It's the sales tax that I can't afford. Monday, I will file my taxes, so I'll be able to pay it soon (thank you earned income credit!).

Tuesday morning, I finally got pulled over while driving. It has dealer placards in its license frames, and is supposed to have in-transit papers attached in the front and rear windows. I have one in the front (it says 08/02/08, which is 30 days after I bought it, i.e., when I was supposed to have licensed it by). The officer just told me I needed to put my in-transit sign back in the rear windshield, failing to notice the five-months'-past-expiration date on the front.

!!!

Photographic evidence of my wit's ending

A rare quiet moment. Sophia, Mira, and Torrin's friend Aaron playing Go Fish.

My father and Claire wearing some awesome fur coats (rotten pic of my dad though!)

Anthony looking handsome on funeral day

Mira sporting half-Leia buns

Torrin and his long-lost buddy Aaron

Ben playing airplane with Orion

Who knows WHAT this is. Sophia, Aaron, and Torrin

Torrin's friend from school, Izzet, as Torrin tries to tackle him

27 degrees

Sometimes you have to stop running inside the house. Even though it's below zero by celsius temperature calculation, mom may still send you out to run off some steam.

Sorry it's a link...I tried to upload directly to Blogger no less than five times at various times today, each attempt of which ended with my wireless signal crapping out.

//*c//*h//*a//*o//*s

Our house has been chaos lately. Long story short, there was a death in the family and two little sisters and a brother have been staying at our house. Well, one is not so little--she's 13 and taller than me. The other two are 9 and 5 and make great playmates/partners in crime for Torrin and Mira. We finally have replacement downstairs neighbors, too, and I'm sure they hate me for all of the running, thumping, screaming and other such pandemonium that has been going on. When I can manage to stay awake long enough, I'll upload some pics and video to post here.

itchy?

2 great quotes from Mira on Christmas Eve...

1) "I got a box! Just like Torrin and Ben!" upon unwrapping a gift, partially.
2) SGM (StepGrandmaMagee) takes a pill. Mira asks why. SGM responds "because sometimes my back hurts." Mira replies, "Sometimes my butt itches."

Happy Cows?

Fine print on a coupon attached to the carton of eggs we bought yesterday.

3 letters

Following my much-debated text, composed so that it did not necessitate a response, came these three letters, last night at 1:35am: bye.

Today, I threw away a stack of banana pancakes. They have fabulous maple syrup in the Northeast, you know.