Ice, ice baby

Someone is teething, fussy and just generally hates life (and his mother) right now.

What is a girl to do?!

I did what any sane person would do. I played the last card in my deck and loaded up this baby in the jogging stroller, walked on ice in the sleeting rain the 50 yards to great grandma Curry's house and gave him to her.

Now as I sit in the den with my feet propped up, magazine on my lap and typing on the phone in my hand I can hear the two of them in the other room reading books together and playing patty cake.

Life is good...

What a Bawl Baby

The first 25+ years of my life I did pretty well with not showing any emotion, or at least ones that made me seem soft.

Thank you, pregnancy, birth, nursing and subsequent raging hormones.

I now cry at the drop of a hat, and to make matters worse, I do it IN FRONT OF PEOPLE.  Yesterday I might as well have hooked up to an IV first thing in the morning.  I cried so much all day long that I was severely dehydrated by the middle of the afternoon.  In my defense, though, it's not entirely my fault.  There are simply too many good people in the world that decided to show themselves yesterday.  (Odd thing to complain about, right?)

Example #1
I dropped Kenyon off at his daycare first thing yesterday morning.  Megan handed me a small Christmas gift and a handmade ornament.  Literally, handmade.  It was an ornament with my baby's handprint in the center.

Good thing Megan is used to seeing people crying and babbling incoherently, although they are usually less than three feet tall and weigh 40 pounds or less.  My bad.

Example #2
I decided to watch a video on my lunch hour of a soldier returning from Afghanistan and surprising his son during his football game.  Enough said.

Example #3
Someone suggested I read the "Letters to Santa" section of the weekly newspaper.  I should have known better.  I couldn't have cried more even if I'd stared at a basket full of puppies.  It was bad.

In these letters the area kids asked that homeless people get homes, kids with cancer get cured, grandmas not get sick anymore and everyone gets to spend Christmas with their families.  I tear up again just thinking about it.

The only saving grace that kept me from totally losing my mind and running up to random strangers and hugging them the rest of the day was one little boy's brutally honest opening line in his letter:

Dear Santa, 

I have been bad this year but...

Hey, good lookin'

Sing with me!
Lord, it's hard to be humble, when you're perfect in every way...

Perfect day

This made his day, made my day, made everyone's day.

Oh no!

Seriously, I have to claim her as my mother?!

Early 'maturing'

I've had folks tell me that Kenyon is quite advanced for his age based on the way he sits, holds his head up, tracks things with his eyes, etc.  I used to say that perhaps he was early maturing; however, I feel that 'mature' is probably not the most appropriate choice of words.

He was being incredibly cute this morning after I fed him and was coo-ing up a storm.  We had a nice little conversation... until the end.

"Do you love your mommy?"

Coo and smile.

"Do you love your daddy?"

Coo and smile.

"Are you gonna grow up and cowboy?"

Coo and smile.

"Do you wish you could eat steak?"

Coo and smile.

"Are you always going to do what Mommy says?"

Hysterical laughter.

And then I decided it was nap time. 

Mountains, Molehills and Hot Tamales

NPR had a piece this week on everything Halloween: candy, Satan, trick-or-treating and the new craze "Trunk-or-Treat".  I was not aware of trunk-or-treating until this year.  Apparently folks now park in one central location, decorate the trunk of their car and hand out candy this way.

Not only do we hand out massive amounts of high calorie, high sugar content foods, but now we've also taken away the exercise component of the night.  Genius.  But I digress.

NPR interviewed a pastor about his feelings regarding the Satanic nature of this holiday and why he and his church sponsored a trunk-or-treat event in their parking lot.  I loved his response.

"Ehhhh, kids dress up, we all make fun of Satan, we eat lots of candy, everyone goes home happy."

Perfect.  Absolutely perfect.  Making light of a holiday that is, in my view, fairly nonsensical.  If only he had added in a bit about spending next to nothing on a costume.  If he had added that tidbit I probably would have jumped through the radio and hugged him.

I had high hopes of escaping the day without having to participate (except in eating candy.  Duh.).  However, my friend Ashley is always taking care of me.  She provided me with two onsies for the week and a chili pepper costume for Kenyon.  If not for her, Kenyon would have had something to hang over my head for the rest of his life.

"You mean you didn't even do anything for my first Halloween?" he could say with tear filled eyes.

Don't worry though, I'm sure we'll have many more times in his life to show him how apathetic his parents are to many common cultural events.  For example, sports.  But that's a whole 'nother story.

Sorry, way off base.  What is this post about again?  Oh yes, my child dressed in a ridiculous costume, looking ridiculously cute.  Which, really, let's be honest.  He's ridiculously cute every day.  Hottie tamale costume or not.

The highlight of Halloween every year - having Granma C. bust out the crazy purple hair. Notice Kenyon is less than thrilled with life at this point.  I think the hat/chili pepper stem may have been the straw that broke the camel's back for him.  

A rare smile for the evening.  Notice Granma C. even accessorized her crazy Halloween hair with crazy, loud socks.  We get wild in our neck of the woods. 

If I pretend to be asleep, can we be done with these ridiculous charades?