Sunday, October 11, 2015

Pumpkin, Pikachu, and Poop

Our sweet across-the-street neighbor gave us a pumpkin last week. She grew it in her own garden! That totally amazes me because two months ago I bought an office plant that says "only water once a week" and I STILL managed to kill it. In my defense, when you only have to do something once a week, it's much easier to slip from your mind. From now on, I will only grow children. They make noise when they need something.

When I first saw the pumpkin I thought it was way too early to decorate for Halloween. Then I looked at my calendar and realized October was almost half over. Yikes! How did that even happen? So, we went right to town.

I got all the supplies together and assembled a Pumpkin Carving Task Force. One member of the task force was fairly helpful at scooping out the pumpkin guts. One wanted to wave the knife around in circles. And the other ate pine needles. I'll leave it to your imagine as to who did what.



After we gutted the pumpkin, Jacob grabbed some paper and sketched out a pumpkin face design. I vetoed his first choice of an elaborate vampire with fang teeth and blood in front of a full moon. There was some negotiating back and forth but we ultimately ended up with this:


Jacob carved the weirdo eyebrows.

Jon's all like, "oh hey, something bright is in here. I'll just reach my hand in and touch it."


My weirdos.


Jon is practicing to be the next Vanna White. 


Jon will not be contained. "Let me go! I see rock! Must.put.in.mouth!"


Jon's been taking steps like crazy today. We just put him down and watch him go! I love to see how many steps he can take before he loses balance and crashes on his butt. I'm sure he would tell me that the whole diaper bulge really throws him off. 


It's so weird to see him upright. He's like a whole new person! Watch out world, here comes little human. If our life was a movie, this would be a good cover. I think the film would be called "The Freaky Alien House Guests That Never Leave."


Jon is just way too much fun right now. I want to take him everywhere and be with him all the time. He is just learning to express himself in a way that is NOT crying and he is starting to interact more. He's my little buddy. And his cuteness KILLS me. KILLS. 


Lately, he grabs his shoes and tries to put them on his feet. This is so freaking adorable. He knows where they go, but he doesn't know how to get them there. He just puts them right on top of his foot and smiles pleasantly to himself. When he moves his foot and the shoe falls off, he gets really frustrated and tries again. 


When I feed him, he opens his mouth wide and says "ahhhh" when he wants another bite. All of his meals sound like this: "Ahhh!" (silence) "Ahhhh!" (silence) "Ahhhh!" (silence). When he does it, we all chime in. Dinner is pretty much a chorus of "ahhhhs." 

Jon also pants like a dog whenever he sees a dog (or cat, or squirrel, or stuffed animal). If we make panting noises, he frantically looks around to find the dog (or cat, or squirrel) that must be looming nearby. 

I swear, racing wheeled objects across the ground is pure instinct. 


He loves to crawl under things. If I'm just sitting on the floor (feet on the ground, knees bent) he will crawl under the tunnel of my legs, come out the other side, giggle, turn around and do it again and again and again. The other day I had the brilliant idea of taking him into a dressing room with me. The second I was stripped down to my undies....

"Bye mom!"


In other Jon news, Jon said his first word. From his high chair, he threw scrambled eggs forceful onto the floor and cried, "Uh-oh!" So, yes. This is a new game that we play at every meal. My floor is now "textured."

Jon is going to turn one this month and I'm incredibly, incredibly sad about this. He does not have my permission to grow up. For the past seven years it seems like I've always been "that person with the baby." Having a baby in the house seems like such a strong part of my identity now. I'm not ready to NOT have a baby in the house. Basically, I want another baby. Or five. 

"I'm too cute to go to bed!"


The other day I took the three of them to Target (ha!) and we passed by a rack of clothing. The kids saw some sweatshirts and begged and begged for them. I was about to say no when I looked down at Ryan the Pikachu and had a cuteness stroke. 


So naturally, we left Target like this:


I'll admit my story telling abilities are fizzling out here a bit. So, here's a picture of Ryan with the makeover I gave him Saturday morning. As I was getting ready to run errands, I put some eyeliner and mascara on (I don't wear much makeup but I NEVER leave the house without eyeliner and mascara) and Ryan asked if he could have some. I told him no and that it was for grown ups and he was NOT HAPPY. I gave in and we had a make up party. He loved it and was very pleased and was so angry when I made him wipe it off five minutes later when it was smeared all over his face. 

What can I say, he DOES look really pretty.


And here are some random photos of pre-bed weirdness:


I have no caption for this. Yeah...


And finally, based upon the title of this blogpost, I'm sure you were waiting expectantly for some story about poop. So I will now present you with the gift my cat left in my shower this evening. I don't care HOW many layers are between me and it, I never want to know the texture of cat poop ever again.

DOES THIS LOOK LIKE A LITTER BOX TO YOU?

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