glimpses

if i could figure out way to do it modestly, i would film myself putting on underwear in my nine month pregnant state just so that others would get a good laugh.
it now always involves some hopping up and down and sometimes involves falling. I position myself near my bed for safety.
i could lie down and put my legs up the air to do it, but then i'd have to get back up...

Did they have panties in Jesus's time? If so, did Mary hop up and down while carrying the Son of God?

and did she mutter curse words under her breath?

I love laughing with Paul about all of my physical awkwardness here at the end. When i go hobbling across our floor in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, and i groan like an old woman needing a hip replacement, he just giggles to himself, which makes me laugh, which hurts some other part of me, which makes us both laugh harder. When i drop something on the kitchen floor and just stand there for a minute, evaluating if i have to pick it up or if i can rope someone else in/ignore it.

a cheerio - ignore
a piece of fruit - try for a child or a pet to take care of it
a paring knife - okay, okay, i'll bend at the waist. wait...what waist?

In other news....
Eason's potty training is officially being called a success (zero accidents in four days, minimum accidents in the four days before that)! and BOTW isn't here yet! yay!
now that he's figured out how to control his powers of the potty, though, he's going to the bathroom whenever he remembers that if he goes, he gets an mnm. we have about fifty mnms left and then i'm not buying anymore.... hee hee hee.

gave Eason a haircut this morning. Makes me sad because its a big boy haircut (not his first, but only about his third, so i'm still a bit sad about it), but he looks so cute with his choppy, wavy layers. and i LOVE saving the 17 dollars it would cost to get his haircut every month.

Ada Brooks, at the pool today, pulled away from me and said she could do the sunscreen herself. Eager to be relieved of any mundane parenting duties, I try to let her try things for herself. I sunscreened Eason and watched her lather up out of the corner of my eye. i did not watch closely enough, and she has slightly pink cheeks and strap marks on her back.

If it were a bad sunburn, I would feel terrible. But its not - just slightly pink - and so I'm kind of okay about it - she looks so typically childish - and impish- AND she's learning a mild lesson.

We did talk about skin cancer. I could watch her register that something she did now, over and over again, could lead to bad consequences down the road. And when she heard that it would likely be of consequence when she's her Ba's age, she immediately shifted back to the present and ask for dessert. Silently, "Oh- when i'm fifty, not computing not computing not computing, back to what matters..."

Last night at 3:45 am, Eason knocked on our bedroom door (which we have to lock at night because the cat can push it open if its not locked. although its occurred to me that its probably handy for more intimate purposes)
"Open the door, Mama"
"Mama, open the door"
Paul gets up to open the door and says "Eason, what in the world do you need?"
"Its time to go to the pool"

There would be advantages to going to the pool at 345 am - it wouldn't be crowded, no sunburns, no traffic on the way, not interrupting nap time or meal time....
despite all that, Paul told him that the pool didn't open for 7 hours, tucked him back in, and we didn't hear from him until after 8 am...

sometimes my kids are weird agents. (don't ask me what this means, but my mom used to call me a weird agent when i was goofy as a kid and my dad hated it and told her she couldn't call us that anymore. making him....a weird agent.)