The Week in Kids

This week...

...should be called the week in vomit.  But, I shall spare you.  While it is true that I am blessed/cursed with the ability to see the amusing side of almost anything, even half-digested puddles of my son's dinner, you may not be interested in reading about it.  You probably don't want to hear the story that starts whith Hubband scurrying out of the bathroom with a wet baby, hitching his thumb over his shoulder toward the bathtub, and saying, by way of explanation, "Poop soup."  I get that.  So, I'll move on.

And, since I missed last week's The Week in Kids, what you are about to read may have happened last week.  I don't want to mislead anyone.  I'll keep moving on.

Also, this week (or maybe last)...

Cate got her first pig tails.

Also, this week...

There were costumes (that's their Nana with them)...

...and candy...

...and very happy children.

Also, this week...

Cate moved into a toddler bed, even before the age of two.  Just one of the differences I have found between boys and girls.  I kept my boys in their cribs until they were well past three.  Since they did not climb out, or use the "potty" in the middle of the night, I saw no reason to give up that control over them.  Sometimes, I just needed a safe place to put them.  Cate, on the other hand, is a little Houdini.  On Halloween night, I caught her in her bed (when we thought she was sleeping) with a lolly pop in her mouth, pawing through her bag of candy.  And, we have no idea how she got the bag.  She's not even TWO people.  We, her parents, are doomed.

Also, this week...

My children surprised me with their knowledge...

ME:  Cate, what do you have?
CATE (waving a shiny, silver disk at me): CD, CD.
SAM (not the be outdone):  And, EFG, too!

..and, their sense of humor.

While I was in the kitchen, doing the dishes, Samuel stood at one of the gates I use to keep his kind out while I do the dishes, and started to rant at me, an impish grin on his face the whole time.

"Got damage!  [Something inaudible] tell you twice.  [Something inaudible] tell you again.  Stop it!  I mean it!  No, no, no!  Got damage!"

Then Hubband pipes up from his place on the couch.  "Hey, I think he's doing you."

Gee, you think.  The little stinker.  Got damage, indeed.

Also, this week...

There was some nice "boy" play, involving no bloodshed, real or imagined.

Also, this week...

On election day, to be exact, my friend Marissa came over to watch the boys so I could vote and sleep, after a particularly difficult night with sick children -- who, by the way, were only sick at night.  During the day, when I was completely wiped out, they were full of their usual healthy vigor.  Brats.  But, I digress.  Marissa came by, and showed off one of her hidden talents.  Face painting.

You rock, Miss Marissa!

See you next week!!!