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.