Don't Worry. Be Baja.

Ian and I sat down to lunch today to enjoy my favorite breakfast... Baja salsa. (www.bajasalsa.com)
The following conversation ensued:

Ian: "are you going to eat that whole thing today?!"
Me: "I guess! I didn't mean to. I just kind of felt led.
Oh that reminds me! We should go to the baja salsa store and see if we can't get it in gallons!"
Ian: "are you sure you'd want to deal with a whole gallon of it?"
Me: "um.... yep."
Ian: "Yeah, but still, where would put it?"
Me: (motions to belly) "...duh."

If any of you want to know what to get me for my upcoming day-of-my-birth, consider this a monsterous hint.

Silent Screams

Hank and I were born with an affinity for non-verbal communication. That kid and I can communicate, negotiate, and completely convey pretty much everything we need to without a single word. (don't take this to mean we're not loud. We get scolded for our rambunctious onomatopoeia on a daily basis)

Clark and Ian were both born with an affinity for a wee bit o' drama. And are both rather loud and temPESTuous. But Clark really wants to get in on this whole non-verbal thing.

So this morning when I told him to go pee so we could have some breakfast, he silently went through his usually noisy routine and thrashed his legs about, pretended his leg was falling asleep, pretended his neck was hurting, pretended he couldn't walk and staggered like a drunken sailor the whole way to the bathroom.

I would have furrowed my eyebrows and shaken my head in the same way that usually means discipline is imminent unless the behaviour quickly stops, but if I had moved my hand from my mouth or looked back in that direction, I would have burst out silently laughing and non-verbally condoned the behaviour.

Atilla the... Huh?

Someday, I promise I'll post something about the kids again.

In the meantime... meet the newest...

"Atilla the...huh?"

I think it's pretty obvious who I patterned him after.

I mean... just check out those muscles!

Super Awesome Crochet Action Figure

So... you all know Sam? The awesome? 'Scuse me... THE awesome?

Well.... once upon a time, this conversation ensued:

Susie: I was wondering... Are there shirts out there that intentionally make the sleeves smaller so your muscles look bigger? Do you have mom take them in? Do you buy your shirts small or... are your muscles actually so big that your poor sleeves just pray they make it through the evening?

Sam: its actually a secret technique taught to me by an ancient head hunter named muga muga, who instructed me in the ways of shrinking heads, i then took that knowledge and used it in the discipline of shrinking sleeves. after many minutes spent mastering this art i have finally been able to make a extra medium shirt fit like a extra small in the arms. yea for cannibal head hunters!

His response was so brilliant that I couldn't stop laughing for days... weeks? how long has it been now. I'm still laughing.

So... I had to make a Muga muga.

He is rather vain about his muscles. He's even called them "the ladies" and given one a kiss.


Modesty being a good thing, his beloved "Grand-muga" (my own dear mother) decided to make him a shirt. ....size extra medium of course.
And since he was an individual lacking anything resembling "couth," she invited him to tea.


It was pretty nice. Man. But man. You know he wouldn't do it for anyone but you man.


Later he impressed us all with a demonstration of his awesome mucles. And curled a few dolls who were having the tea party with us. ...calling them his 'dumbells.' So much for giving him any social graces.


One can only take so much tea, man. So he went off to watch some MMA.


What an awesome Grandmuga to get his personality so much as to make him such an awesome muscle shirt, man!

Should I be a little afraid that he is Hank's absolute favorite doll she's ever seen? Just seeing the pictures today made her start shouting, pointing and screaching MUGA MUGA MUGA!
Can't really blame her. The second I saw Ian's gigantic muscles, I couldn't think of anything else, man.

Why?

I wouldn't change a single thing about her and she is designed perfectly to specifications and lovingly created. So... I'm not questioning the design or anything.

But every once in awhile, I do kind of wonder why oh WHY is Hank's arm just long enough to reach out and grab my nose while nursing? No matter how I try to move my head away, that little grabbin' Han is just right there.
I also question why the baby has such strength that once she has my nose, I can't wrench it from her grasp. And while we're asking questions... why does she think it's so ridiculously funny!?

Not among my questions: "am I making enough milk?" They say you can tell by looking at the corners of a baby's mouth to see if she is getting anything. With Han, you just make her laugh and see if any comes out her nose.

Hannah the Sunday School Teacher

Oh that Hank! She is so very sweet-spirited and inclusive. She's such a sweet little hostess, friend, helper and teacher.

Today she was sitting, reading her book out loud and Clark was concerned because she wasn't reading it right. So without getting her little feelings hurt or anything, in her most Sunday School teacher-ish way, she turned the book around and showed me the chair in the picture.

"See?"

"See "Lahkie?"

"hmm... something's not quite right since I read to you guys."

"See? You messed it all up."


"Class is over. =)"

Lost In Translation

Dear Daddy,

I know I'm only 1 year old so I don't communicate everything I want perfectly yet. I feel like we had a little issue at post nap snack today that I wanted to clear up. When I say "all done," it means I am all done sitting at my high chair, not nescessary that I am all done eating. I am perfectly happy to eat any food someone may offer me or drop on the floor. That being said, in the future, would you mind waiting until you set me free to consider my leftovers fair game? I enjoyed watching you eat and all... but I prefer to watch from the floor.

Thanks for your kind consideration :)

Hank