A friendly message from your local chapter of Closet Monsters Incorporated:


Translation:  Happy Halloween!


Rompers, how I love thee…

Let me count the ways.
I love the First Romper…
The awesome four snap diaper change.
The hooded romper.
The utility.
The comfort.
The adorableness.
The very babyness of a one piece outfit.
The cuteness!
I love rompers so much that as Genevieve gets closer to the maximum size they make them in, I more and more desperately seek them out.
However, I’m beginning to realize that it might not be the best look for a bipedal girl…
It’s all cute from the front, but
Things are looking a little “Kim Jong Il” in the back, if you know what I’m sayin’.
Just as long as I don’t put her in grey, right?
Oh crap. She totally has a grey one.

Kids are cute.

As evidence, I submit:

– Last night at dinner, Payne had the good fortune of possessing the attention of both sets of grandparents at once.  He took this opportunity to inform us that we were a team. Then he told us “bend your neck!”, which we quickly figured out was an order to get us in a football style huddle…in the lobby of the crowded restaurant. And yeah, we did it. He gave us the following speech: “Hey guys, we’re team Cwacker Barrels. Now, let’s eat!.” We were then allowed to break formation.

And then, there’s this, of course:


Genevieve and her nap slaves.

Zoo Boo

There is little in a parent’s life that is more gratifying than dressing one’s wee people up in goofy outfits not of their own choosing and taking pictures of them.
Well, except maybe putting said pictures up on the internet afterwards.
I maintain that any parent who says otherwise is a dirty liar.
Personally, I find making my kids wear themed costumes even more satisfying.  Like, it’s possible that my life is now complete:
I was inordinately thrilled that the weather was cool today. We were actually able to break out the fleece costumes that I bought in a moment of complete idiocy.
Also, they miiiight have a different set of matching costumes for Halloween night.
I may need to look into some new hobbies, or ask Dan to freeze my debit card before all major holidays.
Heeeeeeh heh heh heh!
Checking out the sea lions:
“Man, Genevieve, I don’t know about you, but suddenly I’m absolutely ravenous.”
“I love being meeeee!”
Oh, and the Gods of fall recreation smiled down upon us today:
That’s right. Dino, Tiger, Shark, Fish. All under four years old. Four sets of eyes open. Nobody crying.
“I don’t know what it is, but I feel so at peace here. It’s like I belong…”
I feel like Jacques Cousteau should be narrating this very moment…

Pumpkin Patch #2

We ended up going to our traditional pumpkin patch on a weekday this year, without my photographer (erm, husband).
This place is more like a fall amusement park than a pumpkin patch.
“Homemade rolly sliiiiiiide!”
“Well, we’ve been here for about 10 minutes. Time for a snack.”
Genevieve engaged in some petty theft while we waited for the wagon ride.
Payne amused himself with a bench.
Genevieve was angry with me.
Payne was still deciding if he was angry with me or not.
So apparently you get a free baby pumpkin during the week. However, week dayers are not allowed access to the full size produce patch, so no cute photo op. I am sad.
Genevieve crouches, preparing to go in for the kill…
Payne: “Now what we have here is a less common, white variety…”
Genevieve: “I got him! With my cat-like reflexes he never stood a chance.”
Clearly thrilled.
Payne also clearly thrilled.
And we’re done here.

Let’s do a morning blow by blow, shall we?

It’s been awhile.

So I wake up this morning and have a very pleasant hour (from 6 am to 7 am) with my coffee. The day is off to an excellent start!

Then both kids wake up and I go about making them breakfast.  I realize I never ran the dishwasher last night (I had to have it quiet while I watched Dexter, you know. Priorities). No clean sippy cups. Great. I find one with milk in it in the fridge for Genevieve and put a straw in a coffee travel mug for Payne.

While they eat waffles I start grilling the sandwiches I plan to pack for lunch. A very large beetle crawls out from under the oven. Ew. I deftly trap it under some tupperware and slide a piece of paper under it.  I can’t handle the idea of squishing it, so instead I carry it out to the back door and gracefully fling the whole apparatus in the general direction of the yard as I flee wildly.

Back to cooking. Payne needs help in the bathroom (this also ALWAYS happens when I’m scrambling eggs and they need approximately 10 more seconds). G throws all of her pear slices on the floor. I take a bite of my now cold and soggy waffle.  I make sandwiches.  Payne spills his milk through the 1/2 centimeter wide gap left unoccupied by straw in the coffee mug spout.

We all get ready.  I take Payne to the dentist. He is exceptionally well behaved and I’m proud.  The baby, meanwhile, threw a 10 minute long shitfit because I wouldn’t let her have my phone.  Oh, and when she was in a good mood she kept sprinting into all of the little individual exam rooms, looking back to make sure I was chasing her. Payne gets a good report, although the dentist says some of his tooth enamel never formed right (a fairly normal non-issue. It makes getting cavities in the affected teeth more likely.). She says this is caused by some sort of event like a maternal fever during gestation.  I guess I broke him like four and a half years ago…So with that nice little dose of unexpected guilt we’re off to the mall for a short shopping trip and a picnic lunch.

We get to the mall, I do my shopping while losing Payne approximately 6 times.  He’s the kid that you find staring at you from the center of the clothes rack. Nice.  I get him to sit still for awhile in one store by allowing him to eat roughly $4 worth of dried blueberries in 15 minutes. We go to the play area, where Genevieve first squirts applesauce into my hair, and then repeatedly escapes to the point that I just give up and leave. 

Payne has to pee.  He runs into the elevator ahead of me and the doors close before I get there.  Fortunately he manages to make them reopen after a harrowing 90 seconds.  We take a 12 minute bathroom break.  I lose him again on the way out of the store.  A clerk asks me what is wrong with Genevieve’s legs (they’re always scratched up and welty because her skin is so sensitive and I’m really frustated it’s still so hot that I can’t keep them covered and protected all of the time). I fight my irritation. The clerk doesn’t know it’s a sore spot, duh. While we walk toward the outdoor mall I notice that Genevieve has taken one of her shoes off and is chewing on it. When we get outside I take it away to put it back on her foot and realize that she has permanently damaged the toe seam of her moccassin booties.  I love those booties.  She looks like a tiny clydesdale when she wears them. Honestly, I’m still sort of upset about it, which is really dumb.

I calm myself, find a lovely little outdoor sitting area, and get out lunch.  Payne immediately starts pulling leaves off of the closest decorative potted tree.  I yell. He becomes very well behaved and is eating nicely. Genevieve throws her first sandwich half on the ground, rejects her oranges, and starts running around trying to eat garbage et. all she finds on the sidewalk while managing to fall into every damp spot within a 50 ft. radius.  I re-strap her into the stroller. She screams.  I hand her the second half of her sandwich, which she eats. I turn to check on Payne and find him stuffing an entire fruit cup worth of mandarin oranges into his mouth at once. They’re squishing through his fingers, falling all over the bench.  I yell. I gag. Canned mandarin oranges are gross on a good day, and this visual is just….ugh. 

Genevieve throws her bunny grahams. I pick them up.  I turn around to find Payne happily playing with the cigarette butts in a nearby ash tray. I yell. I clean hands.  He starts pulling the cushion off of the outdoor ottoman and flipping it around. I yell. He starts pulling leaves off of the tree again. I yell. I decide to go home.

They are both napping, thank the heavens.

I have given up for the day and it’s not yet 1 pm.

They are cute. They are cute. They are cute.


Things Genevieve says…

– Dah-dee! (I lost the favorite parent competition again. Damnit)

– Uh oh

– Nigh-nigh

– Yeah

– No no no. (always in threes)

– Bay-bee! (She’s more generous in her naming of Creepy Tiger Baby than I am)

– and finally, she mimics putting a phone up to her ear and exclaims “Ah-oo”.

Of course, all of this means she’s a genius.