water-logged

This weekend was WARM. One might even venture to say (gasp), HOT. We went to the park on Saturday for, like, 20 minutes and then left because we were cookin'. So we headed to get the boy a pool. We waited a couple of hours for the sun to ease off a bit and then plunked him in there with his favorite bath toys while we set up the grill for dinner. To say he loved it would just be silly. He LOVED it. So, here's my BSM of the little swimmer that could. The eyes say it all. And I must say, we grilled a mean salmon, complete with apricot and mango wasabi sauce drizzled on top. I'm still drooling just thinking about it. That now makes two people in our house who drool. Better increase our paper towel budget. As always for more best shots from some great gals, swim on over here. Happy week to all!




And one of his swim trunks because they're just so dang cute:



And here's the little gecko that could on our kitchen window last night:



And, yeah, I know that's technically three shots, not one, but ca sera, sera.

substance

A few days ago Eli had diaper rash again. Anyone who has (or has had) a toddler knows that the diapering process is enough to make you forget your own name, your husband's, what you ate for breakfast, and possibly the name of the latest American Idol contestant voted off the island...er, I mean, stage. So then you can imagine that diapering a toddler with a rashy bum is three times the fun and quite possibly carries the potential to bring about full-blown amnesia. Recently, I was changing a diaper of the muddy variety when, just as I was swooping in for the wipe, my dear toddler rammed his erratic foot in it, which, shockingly, is something he has never succeeded in doing before. After cleaning it, along with his rashy bum, I was still feeling sympathetic and decided to let him run free to air out a little, and then, after what I think was precisely two minutes, he peed on the carpet while pointing to the red balloon in Goodnight Moon.

And to think we were considering getting a dog.

Well, there you have it, folks: substance. Hope you are slurping coffee and loving life on this fine Saturday morn. More tales from our toddlered life coming soon to a blog near you.

storytelling

I am the proud momma to my first storyboard, which I made using Photoshop. Oh, man, this is going to be addictive. I can see it now: I will be nuzzling up to the laptop, in my bed, until midnight-ish, manically making storyboard upon storyboard. Until my husband tells me lights and laptops out. Heh. So, of course, I had to make this my BSM. We have such great trees and hike/bike trails in our neighborhood. Friday, Eli and I went on a stroll and found this great wooden bridge, and, voila, here are the pictures. He loved running up and down the bridge and peering through the openings into the, uh, slightly dirty brown water. Such a little explorer, that kid. Weekend for us was good, but busy. Saw lots of friends, which was nice. And now it is Monday. Yucko. I am promising myself that I will write something of substance in the next couple of days. After a while, I start to feel like I don't exist anymore if I don't write. Ya know? I think everyone has that *thing* they need to do to feel like a real, living, breathing (slightly deranged) human being. For me, that's writing, so it's coming soon (if you're interested). And as always, shimmy on over here for more best shots on this here Monday morning. Cheerio.

flights of reminiscence

My sister spent a few days visiting with us last week. We are two years apart and were college roommates, and besides my husband, she's probably one of few people who truly understands and "gets" me. So, needless to say, it's always nice to spend time with her, gabbing about times gone by and our visions and hopes for what lies ahead. On Friday, my wonderful hubbie volunteered to put the tyke to bed so that we could sneak out for a few hours and have some girl time. We went to a local wine bar and chocolate lounge (yes, a whole place devoted simply to dessert...my kind of place). My best shot for this week is from Cru, the wine bar we went to. We each had what's called a "flight" -- 2 ounces each of three different kinds of wine. I did the World Tour flight consisting of various reds, and Mel did the Shiraz flight. Yummo! And then we shared strawberry cheesecake and chocolate truffles at Truffle chocolate lounge, which had a French-y, boudoir feel to it, complete with red-tinted lights. La-tee-da. Thanks, Mel, for the rockin' company. And, since I know you read this, I am challenging you to leave your first-ever comment on my blog, since you are worlds more tech savvy than I will ever be! As always, for more BSMs, click over to Picture This. Have a mauuuuvvelous Monday.

early senility

So, it's already come to this: taping notes to appliances to remind myself to try not to burn the house down. I mean, it's a nice house, and, gosh, Eli would sure miss all of his very cool toys. And here I go again, joking about non-laughing matters. But, god, if you can't joke about such things, what do you joke about? Well, I suppose you could talk about how big your ass has gotten as a result of all the Easter chocolate you've mindlessly consumed while thumbing through countless mags, looking at swimsuits and thinking, "Gosh, I've really got to start my summer slim-down plan or else consider robbing a 7-Eleven to pay for liposuction."

We're down to the reject candy now. You know, the hollow rabbits with the pink-sugared buttons on their bare chocolate bellies. The no-name-brand miniature chocolate eggs that hearken back to a time when your mom said the Captain Crunch was too expensive, so you had to get the generic corn puffs instead (this is SD's contribution, by the way). And, of course, who could be more rejected at Easter than the peeps. Poor, pathetic, squishy, hyperglycemic blobs. They just never make the cut, do they?

Happy Saturday night. Hope you're laid out on the couch like I am, having a toddy, watching SNL and being fed pistachios by my husband. God, I love the weekends.

happy (belated) egg day

30

Happy 30th birthday to my dear husband. I fear if I try to write a proper expression of my love and admiration for him, it may turn into sap, like the one that drips from a bad greeting card or, of course, a sap tree. Sap from a sap tree. God, sometimes my genius astounds me.

Instead, I will just say...that I love your moonwalk, the way you do dishes with your headphones on (a habit I've recently adopted), the fact that you do dishes (god, I'm lucky), and your grilled cheese sandwiches. And much more, of course. And I see lots of cake in our future. I mean lots. Like 90 or so years of it. That's a lot of cake.

I love you, babe. Thirty is gonna be grand.

And now, for the cake...

splendor in the grass

Tracey over at Picture This is having a theme week, and today's theme is "spring," so here's my photo of the day, taken last week on a nature stroll through our neighborhood. Everything is in bloom here: lots of brightly-hued wildflowers and, of course, the lovely bluebonnets. I wish we could say our yard was as alive. Our horticulturist-in-residence (aka SD) planted grass seed this weekend and has inspected it each morning since to see if there has been any growth. He's says maybe it's just psychological but that he thinks he sees some new stuff sprouting. Spring is for hoping, right? Of course, by the time it takes off, we'll probably be in the dead of winter again, which will, of course, kill off any hopes of the green we are now in waiting for. Then again, we're in Texas, so how cold will it *really* get?

So, I forget what these flowers are called? Somebody help me out here. I remember, as everyone will, plucking them up, puckering, and sending a warm breath across the delicate fuzzies, just to see them float off and swirl around me. My sister said you're supposed to make a wish, so here's mine:

O, great gods of the little airy bulb of fuzzies, please, oh, please send down some freak of nature that allows spring to last through summer so that we will not have to buy bushels of antiperspirant at Target.

Now it's your turn -- make a wish!

hand-me-downs

Here's my BSM: shoes passed on from our neighbor's kiddos, Eli and James. Yep, from one Eli to another. Cute. And the kicks are cool, too, so I'm sure our Eli will love wearing them. The weekend was filled with much ado: a deluge on Friday night that (literally) rocked the house (but strangely did not wake our sleeping child), catch-up sleep, a crawfish boil with friends (with sunburns to show for it; Sarah, thanks for babysitting!), yard work, playtime, and...the mall, where the evil Easter bunny sits with his paper-flower backdrop and frightens the diapers right off of otherwise chipper 14-month-olds. And, sadly, we played not a single April Fools' prank on Sunday. How much fun are we? Even so, it was a grand 48 hours. Hope yours was too. And now, Monday is here to deliver all of its own special grandeur. The coffee's on! As always, for more best shots, go on over to Picture This! Oooooh, and how could I forget, it's SD's birthday week!!! Friday he begins a new decade, starting with the number 3. And then, I am not far behind. I am now accepting collagen donations. If you have some to give, don't be shy, send it on over.