Growing Quickly

I looked at Eva yesterday and suddenly she looks big.  On Saturday she sat in the grocery cart for the first time and learned how to roll from her back to her belly to her back.  She can now roll around the room. 
Here she is a few weeks old:

And here she is now:



My poor heart can’t take it!

Forging Friendships

I think they’re officially introduced to each other.

Firsts

Everything Eva does is a first for us.  Most of the time it’s exciting and adorable. 

The first day she rolled over.

The first day she sat up on her own.

However, she also has a first that I could do without.  She screeches.  Loudly.  Like a howler monkey.  Poor Aika paces and moans whenever she does it.  Poor Aika used to be the light of our lives and now he’s been replaced by a screeching howler monkey.  I can see why he’s upset. 

Eva screeches when she wants attention.  She screeches when I’m not getting her food fast enough.  She screeches when she wants to be picked up.  She screeches when the ice cream is gone.  No, wait, that’s me.  Still, it’s a very bad habit.  I’m beginning to believe she might be S-P-O-I-L-E-D.

I blame Michael.      

5k What?

I went to a service auction last night for a church activity.  We all donated some kind of service and then we got to bid on things.  I really wanted the free babysitting because Myke has been dying to go to the movies but I was outbid.  I only had 155 points and some women had over 300.  (You earned points for innocuous things like if you had eaten vegetables that day or folded laundry.  I apparently do nothing but waste my time all day because my point tally was hideous.)  Anyway, I didn’t want things like cookies or bread because I can make those myself.  I didn’t need merit badges sewed on shirts or another baby blanket.  I really just wanted the free babysitting.  Life is full of disappointment.

Anyway, it was getting down to the end and I didn’t have anything.  I was feeling like a loser.  The next item up was personalized 5k training.  I’ve been meaning to start running again so I figured I’d shout out a bid just because I had points.   Deep in my heart I didn’t want it. Turns out I was the only person willing to go for it and I won.  I guess this means I’m running now. 

I should have gone for the gluten-free, non-dairy cookies.   

Move ‘Em Out

I mentioned previously that our yard was overrun by weeds.  I failed to mention that in addition to the weeds, the landscaping in general is hideous; overgrown trees, messes of bushes and plants that don’t even go together, desert landscaping in the front yard.  Explain to me why you would plant desert landscaping in luscious Oregon.  I’m baffled. 

We hired a tree service to clean everything out.  It was expensive.  I nearly swallowed my tongue writing the check.  In fact, I think I went unconscious for a brief moment while signing my name.  We may not be able to afford food for a while so anything you can send would help.  I would hate to have to dip into my fat stores to stay alive. But the yard looks wonderful now!  So much clean ground to plant and cultivate beautiful things. I want flowers.  Lots and lots of flowers.

It’s a shame I don’t have any money left. 

Before

After.  Everything feels fresh and airy now.

Incidentally, the majority of the ugly trees were planted by the previous owners to keep the neighborhood kids out of the yard.  Apparently the previous owners were real douchebags.  Since removing the trees, we have become the neighborhood heroes.  In fact, one of the neighbors brought us these flowers in gratitude:

They also sit on the HOA board and said the association would buy us a new gate for our yard if we wanted.  (Our current gate is pointed to accommodate a boat.) And they are having us over for ribs. Man, I love being the hero.

My Daughter is Dikembe Mutombo

Eva had her 6 month well-baby visit and vaccinations yesterday.  Besides being the cutest baby the doctor has ever seen, her statistics were:

• Weight: 17 pounds, 12.5 ounces.  75th percentile
• Head Circumference: 42.25 cm. 50th percentile
• Height: 28 inches. 97th percentile

I pulled out a brand new pair of size 9 month pajamas tonight and she’s already at the end of the feet.  Dangit.  Someone tell me how to make her stop growing.

Mother’s Day

Happy Mother’s Day to me and to all of you other Mamas!  In honor of my own Mom who lives far away now, I’ve compiled a very short list of some of the attributes I admire and love about her.  I’m only listing ten things but she certainly has many more admirable traits than these.  Here goes…

Ten Things I Love About my Mommy:

1. She can fix anything.  Wounds, electric griddle handles, jeans, car doors, these are actual things she has fixed for me.
2. She is patient.  My mama raised 9 children and currently has 17 grandchildren.  Need I say more?    
3. She is an amazing cook.  Yummy Thanksgiving stuffing, orange rolls, pork roast, Walla Walla Ding Ding, the list goes on.
4. She is artistically talented.  She can paint, sketch, carve, sew, an artistic genius.
5. She is hilarious.  Don’t be fooled by her reserved nature.  She has made me laugh until I have cried many times.
6. She is tender and kind.  She knows just what to say or do in any situation to make it better.  Just ask her patients or her grandchildren.
7. She is self-sacrificing.  Staying up late sewing Easter dresses, Christmas quilts, summer clothes, she consistently puts others first.
8. She is the Queen of projects.  Patching walls, painting rooms, laying wood floors, Mom is the one you call.
9. She is family-oriented.  Her family is the most important part of her life and we know it.
10. She is a woman of tremendous Faith and love for God.  Her prayers are sincere and she does not doubt.

I could go on and on about her but brevity is best.  I love you, Mom!  Happy Mother’s Day!

Noisy Neighbors

We’ve been sleeping with the windows open because the evenings have been so beautiful lately.  The only problem is that I can hear the neighbors as if they are right outside the window.  They chirp and croak and ribbit and buzz ALL NIGHT LONG.  It’s intensely beautiful and slightly annoying.  (Hmmm, I think I just described myself.)

Weed Eater

Our yard is beautifully landscaped with weeds.  While I call this a “No Maintenance” approach to gardening, our Homeowner’s Association calls it an “Unacceptable” approach.  It’s semantics really.   Unfortunately I am but a wee David to the Association Goliath and I fear being fined.  The weeds must go.  Since I can’t afford a yardman, I must eradicate them myself. 

Our property is just over a third of an acre.  Of this, half is weeds and the other half is a mix of grass and dog poo.  It really is a lovely yard.  I spent six hours today arduously digging and pulling the wide variety of weeds that are growing with wild abandon.  My poor arthritic neck is throbbing, my sausage fingers will no longer bend and are swollen to the size of hot dog buns, and I smell.  (Worse than usual.)  The yard looks no different.

I curse semantics.      

Dos Maas

If you’re friends with Michael on Facebook then you’ve seen this picture that I took today, but it’s so darn cute I have to put it here too.  Have you ever seen a more adorable pair?  I sure love these two goons.

Un-Birthday Dinner

Yum!  It still tasted delicious even though it wasn’t his birthday.

It’s Great to be 37

Tuesday was Myke’s birthday.  I love birthdays.  On my birthday, I want to be treated like royalty and not lift a finger.  In fact, I get pretty indignant if I am expected to do anything besides eat chocolate.  I think everyone should value birthdays as much as I do.  Myke does not agree with me.  He thinks birthdays are just another day.  He is wrong.

I had the most marvelous day planned for him.  I was going to get up early and make his favorite ham and cheese omelet for breakfast.  I was taking chocolate cream pies to his office at lunch where his coworkers would shower me with praise.  Then we were going to have a delicious steak and shrimp dinner followed by presents and a movie once Eva was in bed.  It was going to be the perfect birthday.

Myke woke up on the big day and said he didn't feel like eggs for breakfast because his stomach was hurting.  (That part was actually good for me because I could sleep in.)  When I went to his office with the pies, my reception was lukewarm.  No one clapped or wet their pants upon tasting the pie.  Dinner was quesadillas because Myke wasn’t in the mood for steak.  Instead of a movie we watched a rerun of The Amazing Race on Hulu.  He did not squeal and run around the room when he opened his presents.  This was the worst birthday ever.

I don’t know why Myke keeps saying he had a great day.