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We've been met, measured, linked, hitched, tied, joined, tangled, chained, anchored.The Mother Runner
Loose Ends
We have enough interest that the Peep Show will go on! It will be smaller than previous years, but that is okay. :)
All-O-ver, Ol-i-vore . . . we're learning that Oliver's name has some fun mispronunciations.
Also, ask him what is name is and this is what you'll hear: "My name is Oli . . . Oli . . . Oliv . . . Oli . . . I don't know."
Here I am at SFO. Again. What should have been a 40 minute layover has turned into a 5 hour layover with merely a possibility of getting on the red-eye at 10:30. Flying standby. And if I don't get on the standby flight . . . they tell me my next shot at JFK isn't for 24 hours. Yeah. So let's hope that doesn't happen. And if I don't get on standby, well, there's got to be another way home.
S: Oliver, Is Mom a child of God?
O: Yes!
S: No, Mom is a grown up!
The one night -- ever -- when Micah and I get to bed at 10:00 and could, feasibly, get 9 hours of uninterrupted sleep, Simon wakes up crying inexplicably at midnight and can't go back to sleep, Oliver falls out of bed, and we're all out a couple of hours of sleep. Clearly we need to never try to go to to bed early. It's the only way to get a good night's sleep around here.
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Thursday, July 23rd, 2009
It was Jack-Jack
posted by lizzie « 5 Comments » tied to Uncategorized
I was afraid that by letting Simon watch “Jack-Jack Attack” from The Incredibles I was giving him ideas. He always got so excited at the point Jack-Jack bursts into flames. “Baby on fire,” he laughed, “Baby on fire.” I hoped he wouldn’t get any ideas come October, but it turns out he took away a different message entirely.
The other night at Filene’s Basement while Micah looked for clothes, Simon and I watched the traffic out of the windows, one of which had a red drink of some sort spilled all over the sill. “Simon, who spilled that drink?” Micah asked when he was done scouting the place out.
His response: Jack-Jack.
Good one, we thought, good one.
Later that night, as we were both very tired and incapable of making decisions any more, we asked Simon if he’d rather go up the stairs or the elevator at the train station. Elevator, duh. Unfortunately it was broken. Who broke the elevator?
Jack-Jack, of course.
My heart nearly leapt for joy. I’ve been hoping for an imaginary friend to pop up at our house sometime, and this is almost as good. After all, why shouldn’t a baby who bursts into flames, can float through walls, and shoot laser beams from his eyes be blamed for everything?
I love my child.
LOVE this! My brother (Jim) used to blame everything on "Big Bad John" when he was little. "Big Bad John" was his alter-ego that came out when he wore my dad's work boots around the house.
LOL too funny! I love that kid.
Simon is one smart boy.
Holy Cow! I love it! We never did have imaginary friends when we were kids, did we? Simon is awesome. Once again, excellent photography!
My sisters and I used to blame my best friend for everything when we were little. Of course, it didn't work anymore after he moved to Seattle and didn't come over nearly as often – my mom started catching on then. ;0)