Wet, mashed up pine cones.
Masticated chocolate cookie.
A stick covered in mud.
A piece of very dry roast that ended up under the table overnight. (Don’t ask.)
I will add to this list as I find other things ground into the rugs in this house, some of which are poop, either from the neighborhood pets or my Monkey’s own, stinky behind.
Edited (on 5/19) to add: Come to notice, regular pine cones that have not opened up yet also look quite a bit like poop. I didn’t find one ground into my carpet (yet — give the Monkey time), but I did register this fact on our whirl-wind walking tour of the neighborhood today.
Added 5/26: Dried blueberries look like rabbit feces.
And brown play-doh (yes, BROWN) looks exactly like poop.
I have let the weblog go this month. Not that anyone is paying attention. I got Bun into “daycare” (a woman who watches kids at her home) with Monkey; they both go twice a week. I’m not back to full time work, yet. I thought on the days the kids weren’t here I would look for a full-time job and do something new and cool (and possibly involving advertising) with this weblog.
But then two freelance opportunities came my way, and I took them. They’ve been a bit more trouble than I originally bargained for (especially one), but I’m doing okay. It hasn’t given me any time to do anything else on the days that the kids are away from me, though.
I don’t have much to report other than that. The Bun had her four-month check-up. In two months, she gained 3 and 1/2 pounds and grew 2 and 1/2 inches. That’s on about 75 percent mother’s milk, and 25 percent formula. She is sleeping longer at night, getting up once around 5 a.m. We just had a couple of tough bedtimes; I have let her “cry it out”. It’s distressing, but after about 15 minutes tonight, she was asleep.
Monkey continues to amuse and amaze. The way she puts things together floors me. For example, while dancing to the Beach Boys “Catch a Wave” the other day, she got an idea. DearDR was playing the guitar, and Monkey ran into her playroom (which doubles as our TV/family room). She dumped out her play drum, grabbed the tamborine, and ran back to her daddy and “Catch a Wave”. She started playing along — in rhythm no less. (She doesn’t get that from me!) Another day, she was playing with an electronic toy that plays songs. She got out her Mrs. Potato head and made her dance along with the music. It was adorable.
I missed writing about Mother’s Day, which given that my Mother’s Day kind of sucked, is probably okay. You know what I want for Mother’s Day next year? Two days at a spa. Alone. Yeah, it was that kind of Mother’s Day. If you want to read about a good one, see what Earthmother got up to, go here to read a moving Mother’s Day piece. And don’t forget: we’re all good mothers — er, parents. (And I promise to write about why I am soon.)