Jelly Rolls

We got a very nice piece of mail from my SIL the other day, the very first one received by a certain member of our family.

It made me feel all warm and fuzzy and nest-y inside and I promptly started throwing things out left and right to make room for baby clothes.

John Steinbeck once wrote that “when a man says he does not want to speak of something he usually means he can think of nothing else.”  And that, my friends, is why I have approximately 49 blog post drafts and approximately 5 actual posts from the last five months. I had absolutely nothing to say about anything other than the one topic I wasn't ready to talk about.

Baby girl (affectionately known as "Jelly" in our house) is due mid-summer, and we are thrilled. So far, she has inherited two things from me: her pointy nose and a penchant for causing trouble. So. Much. Trouble. I have gone back and forth on posting about the last five months.  On one hand, we really have a lot to be thankful for, and I don't want to forget that. On the other hand, I don't want to focus unduly on past difficulties (and as of yesterday, they truly do all seem to be past!). I find that when I linger too long on them, I allow the cumulative stress to influence the present - but we only need grace to get through today, not grace to get through yesterday.

In the meantime, while I make up my mind (or at least try to find the right words), the Little Pants in our house is doing well and learning new tricks every day. He calls his baby sister "Elwie" but has absolutely no concept of what this "Elwie" figure is and why Mom and Dad keep talking about it.

This morning I walked into the kitchen while he was eating breakfast, and he said, "Heeey Sweetie!"  The other night I caught him slurping up the dregs of his tomato soup with a trick I can only assume he learned from one of the adults in our household.....

Meh. We have years ahead of us to work on table manners, right?

How to Track the Wild Kekoa Monster

If you want to track the Wild Kekoa Monster, the first thing you will want to do is find the trail of dried oatmeal.  This favorite food of the Kekoa Monster sticks to his pants, sloughing off throughout the day and rendering vacuuming pointless.  This is the surest way to find the Kekoa Monster.

But you will know that you are getting close when:

You find the shape sorter shapes, balls, or cars and trucks lined up in a single file line.



The animal puzzle is put together, but the zebra and rhino are invariably upside-down.



All the Pooh Bear books are pulled from the bookshelf.



Your PlayDoh containers are full of of tiny Play Doh balls.



You hear the sound of dice from another room.



You may also be able to smell the Kekoa Monster, but tracking him at this time is not recommended.  Find a caretaker of the Kekoa Monster and come back later.

The Kekoa Monster may disguise himself in a variety of ways.  He may appear as a cowboy.

Or a mysterious shepherd boy.

Do not be fooled by these disguises. Focus on the oatmeal trail.  IT'S ALWAYS THE OATMEAL TRAIL.

However, ye trackers beware.  Caretakers and observers of the Kekoa Monster often find themselves inexplicably tired and irresistibly lulled into a deep sleep.

So should you decide to continue tracking this strange and wonderful beast....at least bring your own blanket.

Changes

Last Sunday, I kissed a little boy who looked something like this:

I laid down for an hour and slept, unaware and unsuspecting.  When I awoke, I came out to find something like this:

Perk of haircuts: you get to watch Pooh Bear.  While snuggling Pooh Bear.

My thoughts exactly, Kekoa:

(Just to be clear, he needed a haircut. I said he needed a haircut.  I'm very grateful to Josh for giving him a haircut.  But.......my blondie!)

Precious

Were you denied the privilege of knowing my eight-year-old self?

If so, then I am sorry.  But I am also delighted to share this little gem with you as evidence of what you missed.

While at my parents' house over the holidays, I was dismayed to find a very important piece of my history shoved away in the back of my brother's closet.

Meet Precious:

Precious was a handy little friend because his (her?) clothes fastened with Velcro, making a handy little hiding spot.

The first of these secret documents was merely a testament to my undying love for Precious.  The validity of this document may have come into question under the circumstances which led to a 7-year confinement in my brother's closet.

The second document was of a more legal nature, reproduced below:

To the person who finds this.

My ballet diary is locked. The key is hidden in one of my glass figurines. It's in the one that swims.

You just inherited Precious, the doll this was hidden in and my ballet diary. Do not let anyone else see my diary.

[reverse side]

You may also have the glass figurine you find the key in but you may only claim this stuff after my death.

[signed] Full Name       [printed] Full Name

Clearly, I figured that if someone was distraught enough after my death to disrobe Precious in a desperate search for relics by which they could remember me, then they deserved to read about whether I loved or detested my brother on any particular day.

Sadly, my budding legal mind failed to date it.  Sorry to disappoint you hopeful seekers, but Precious and company will probably end up in the attic of one of my descendants, unappreciated and undiscovered. 

First Try at Chopsticks

Normally Kekoa is happy to use his primitive chopsticks (fingers) while Mom and Dad do the real thing, but last night he wanted to give them a try.

After a long battle, he put one chopstick down, popped the sashimi in his mouth with his fingers, and smiled proudly at his accomplishment.

In Which I Retire from Housekeeping

Some friends from church gifted Kekoa with a child-size vacuum cleaner, same brand as our big one.  ("We have to be quite undercover about the pick-up," my friend said, "because my kids don't know."  Somehow I don't think we'll be their favorite guests to dinner anytime soon.)

As you can see, toy vacuums require crumbled-up chips so as to be more realistic.

Fortunately, the vacuum's capacity to make actual vacuuming noises has been disabled.  Whether this is by natural causes or ruthless destruction at the hand of an annoyed parent, I cannot say.  It does, however, make a satisfying clicking sound when pushed, just loud enough to seem real and just quiet enough for me to ignore completely.

It is a rather precious thing to pull out the big vacuum cleaner and see those little legs run as fast as they can to get the little vacuum cleaner, and be followed every step of the way.  No carpet left behind.  I don't even mind the constant nipping at my heels.

I do, however, feel like a lazy slob when I stop and he looks at me disdainfully as if to say, "Sure, you may be done working, but I'm not a quitter!"  Carry on, son.  Carry on.

People are always talking about how much work kids are.  How expensive they are.  Not so, my friends. One look at my blog history tells you that I not only have someone to do my vacuuming, but someone to do my dishes,

my laundry,

my sweeping,

my dusting,

my baking,

and even my secretarial work.

'

Clearly, kids totally make sense if you're looking to retire from the housekeeping world.  No work required! So...you wanna borrow my kid for the afternoon while I get some work done?  ;)

Fall

It's been raining for two days straight and I am delighted to say that Kekoa loves the rain almost as much as I do.  Last night after dinner we went skipping down the bike trail singing The Wizard of Oz, and he was utterly thrilled.  Today he has been sitting at the window watching the drip drips on the glass, begging to go outside.

 He also seems to like other aspects of fall:

Apple cider by the gallon?  BRING IT ON!

And now that it's cool enough to use the oven, I enlisted his help with stirring while I was doing some baking. He caught on pretty quickly:

Yep, he knows almost as much about baking as I do.  Batter = delish.  :)  And no raw eggs.

This has been a really hard semester for us thus far.  The internet doesn't need any more whining than it's already got, so don't worry, I won't add to it.  But with Josh gone a lot, it is the sweetest thing in the world when he comes home and Kekoa hears the door.  Can you say JOY?

Occasionally Josh just falls asleep wherever he is...in Kekoa's room, on the couch, on the floor (he kinda works really hard).  When that last one happens, Kekoa prefers to take his nap right there with him. 

Heartmelt. <3 div="">