GO DAWGS!

I love the South. A friend of mine recently blogged about the joys of fall...musing at length about the smells, sights, and leaves in a pensive, poetic way. So here's my take on it...fall means football Saturdays in Athens watching full grown, highly paid, professional men act like 20 year-old frat boys stumbling drunkenly through the streets of campus...it means college girls in freakin cocktail dresses and heels in 98 degree temperatures to go see a football game...it means hearing the best of the Redcoat Band and Larry Munson coming from iPods at every tailgate...it means beer, food, and friends...it means miles of RV's and red & black as far as you can see...it means you have a connection to 80,000 perfect strangers, who, because they are GA fans, are instantly your best friends and will share their food, beer, and RV toilets...it means walking to the game singing "who's that walking down the tracks?" with every other drunken person hoping their high heel doesn't get caught in the railroad ties...it means another year of a tradition that will never die. God...please let my children go to the University of Georgia so they can know how it feels to be a part of the biggest, best, proudest family of football fans in the South. GO DAWGS!

Splish Splash

Who says a rainy day can't be tons of fun...not my daughter, that's for sure. She has been psyched about the rain all day. She was really pumped this morning that she was able to wear her green jacket, with the hood up of course because, 'it's rainin on my head, Mommy." Then when I picked her up, she made me open the sun roof so she could see the raindrops falling on the top of the car. THEN when we got out of the car, she insisted that I zip her jacket up and put her hood on so she could go stomp around in the pouring (and I mean pouring) rain and puddles all in the driveway. Pressley and I just stood in the garage for like 20 minutes while she got soaked from head to toe. I finally convinced her to come in, just in time I learned, since we were under a TORNADO WARNING and I didn't know it...yeah, I know I'll get "Mother of the Year Award" for that one.


Anyway, Papa Chuck came over for like 20 minutes in true Yuppie fashion...always in a hurry (I tease him but I enjoy seeing him even if it is only for a few minutes). He snuck out and a total meltdown ensued...I mean LG cried for at least 10 minutes...big, wet, crocodile tears, saying "I need my Papa Chuck!" I convinced her to stop crying by telling her we could go outside for round two of puddle jumping...who knew a little rain could be so darn fun?






I am including a couple of new pictures...not because they go with this post, but because I told my mom that I would. (Love You, Mama)

Just an Update

Update...quick facts to catch you up on all of our business:)
1. Pressley went for her 4-month check-up on Wednesday. She now weighs 16 lbs. 10 oz. ...I know, she's huge! They gave her four shots, which shouldn't even be legal. Bless her little heart...she turned bright red and forgot to breath for like a whole minute. She promptly yanked off one of her band-aids off in protest when we got home.
2. I now have zero sicks days left...a scary thought when you have two kids in daycare. I used almost all of them for maternity leave last year, then another two for our trip to Maine, a 1/2 day for Pressley's doctor's appt, you get it...
3. Classes have started back at UGA...what was I thinking again? Two kids, full-time job, Specialist degree..I must be crazy
4. Lilly Grace just keeps getting more like a two-year-old every day, and my patience is quickly wearing thin. I think we were up to four fits just today...the first one about having to wear the lobster shirt I bought her in Maine, the second because she couldn't find a leaf in the car that she'd picked off a tree (you would have thought she was missing some serious cash or something), the third because I tried to get a splinter out of her finger, then I tried to put Neosporin and a Band-Aid on it, which she ripped off in a matter of seconds, and the fourth because she didn't want to take a bath, and oh yeah...one more..because I pushed the button on the remote to start The Little Mermaid DVD instead of letting her do it...pray for me.
5. On a happy note, Pressley has started cackling every time she thinks something is funny, which totally cracks me up. LG and Mike were jumping in puddles in the driveway the other night and she just started hee-hawing because she thought it was so funny. Then we started laughing at her so hard I thought we were going to pee our pants...I am sure the neighbors were curious why we were all barefoot, jumping around in the driveway, laughing so hard we were snorting. We'll probably get a letter in the mailbox from the Homeowner's Association warning us about public displays of happiness

Baby Duckling

Isn't it funny how kids form attachments to fuzzy objects? Why are they always fuzzy? One morning, I handed Pressley a yellow duck "lovie" (definition - stuffed animal head attached to a blankie) that Lilly Grace never seemed interested it, and she immediately became smitten. She quickly realized she could put it in her mouth and start gnawing away or rub it on her face and cuddle. Now she's hooked! An immediate problem surfaced when LG remembered that the duck was once hers, and she promptly yanked it out of Pressley's hands. She eventually decided that the sisterly thing to do (yes, she is acknowledging that role now) was to give Pressley the duck as a love offering and officially name it "Pressley's Duckling." I not exactly sure how she knows it is a baby duck, thus calling it a "duckling," but hey, who can figure out the mind of a two-year-old. Not me...if I could, I would be a millionaire.

On a side note, we just got back from a fabulous long weekend in Squirrel Island, Maine, where THERE'S NOT A SINGLE SQUIRREL (or poisonous snake or spider, according to Marge). Mike said they all fell from the sky during a massive squirrel suicide or something...he was just looking to start a good ghost story. I can say a few things about the folks on Squirrel:

1. they know how to drink...any time of the day or night...they are professionals

2. they know how to make Southerners feel right at home...seriously, they were awesome

3. they don't lock their doors...in fact, I don't think I saw a single door with a lock the whole weekend

4. they think it's warm when its really friggin cold

5. they like to dress like pirates and run around the island yelling "AARRRGH"

6. they love their island...seriously, half the wedding was devoted to their "new member acceptance"...but for good reason...it's straight out of a postcard and absolutely breathtaking

Congratulations on your wedding Marge! Congratulations on your initiation to the island, Bill:) We can't wait to come back one day!

Slam...not damn!

Well, unfortunately my child has inadvertently learned a cuss word from "Elmo's Magic Cookbook." Although I cannot claim to "keep it clean" all the time, I have NEVER cussed in front of my children because I have tried to make a concerted effort to eliminate four-letter words from my vocabulary since Lilly Grace repeats everything she hears. In the above mentioned DVD, Emeril Lagasse cooks with Elmo and uses his trademark phrase "BAM" everytime he throws something on the miniature pizzas he is making with the kids. Anyway, Lilly Grace picked up on it, and so now whenever she throws a toy back into the basket she yells "Damn!" because that's how she has interpreted what Emeril does. When I heard her say it, I of course said, "What did you say?" She then proceeded to throw another block into the bucket and yell, "Damn!" I said, "Lilly Grace, you can't say that word...you have to say BAM." Needless to say, she didn't understand and she looked at me again and said, "Damn." Since she couldn't seem to transpose the letter "D" into a letter "B" I told her that she could say "slam" instead. That worked, but now she looks at me when she throws something and says "Slam! Not Damn, Mommy 'cause I can't say that word." I am just waiting to pick her up from the church nursery to hear the nursery worker tell me that my child put her toys back, saying "Slam, not damn, 'cause I can't say that word...I can't say damn." Oh, lordy!

Will my child show up for kindergarten still in diapers???

I have been trying to introduce the concept of potty training to LG for a while now. The potty has had a presence in the house now for about 8 months, and she will occasionally even sit on it and read books...but that's about the extent of it. I have tried a reward system...I've tried "hanging out" in the bathroom with her for up to forty-five minutes in hopes she will go...I have tried Pull-Ups (which she vehemently rejects)...I have even tried letting her run around completely naked...all to no avail. When she finally realizes she has to go, she politely asks that I put her diaper back on and then proceeds to pitch a fit if I don't honor her request. There is a delicate line between making her do something because, dang it, I'm her mother and scarring her for life because I have forced this bathroom thing on her before she's ready. I am at a crossroads...
1. I am sick of buying ridiculously expensive diapers (for two kids) when one is obviously old enough to move on to bigger and better bathroom habits
2. She can verbalize when she is about to go, when she has gone, and when I need to change her
and
3. Because, dang it, I am her mother and I think she needs to go to the potty
Mike (of course) thinks I am overreacting...sometimes the "voice of reason" is annoyingly reasonable...and that I just need to let her do it in her own time. My question is...WHEN IS IT TIME???? They SO need a Parenting for Dummies book...