15 December 2008

So, my sister pulled me aside this week and gently explained to me that I may have the wrong idea about "Not Me Monday". It turns out, it's funnier if I'm confessing things I otherwise would keep to myself, not just being informative in the negative. Thanks for clearing that up, Rebecca.


And, that's what big sisters are for.

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Alright, then. To begin, I'm not pretty sure I have a tumor growing along my spine. I do not blame said tumor for the soreness I'm feeling in my back and my shallow breathing and coughing. I do not also attribute the loss of feeling in my right leg to said growing tumor.

It is highly unlikely that the soreness is from rock climbing this weekend, the shallow breathing and coughing is from the eternal early winter cold I have and the numb leg could be because of the way I'm sitting right now. It's not that. It's totally a tumor.

I did not tell my sister that I would be at her house this morning at 10am. It is not currently 10:18 and I am writing a blog post instead of getting ready and out the door.

Ryan was not involved in a very serious hair accident this week. No, not a hair accident. He did not set about to trim his hair (it was getting way too long!) and noticed that the clippers needed to be cleaned. After a thorough cleaning, he did not go right back to business without thinking to put the guard back on. And in an instant, he had not taken a HUGE chunk out of his hair on the shortest setting possible.

I did not have a little chuckle at my husband's expense.


Speaking of hair, I did not spend the better part of half an hour this week styling Oliver's little bit of hair and photographing it to make it look longer and more substantial.


I'm am not concerned that if we ever have a little girl, that her hair will grow at the same rate as Oliver's and I won't be able to use a bow in it until she's fifteen.

I am not a solid two weeks behind my goal in writing and mailing our family's Christmas letter.

I am not totally embarrassed to say that in Oliver's first waking hour today he asked me for "TB" (t.v.) on three different occasions. (If only he knew that to an outsider, he was asking for tuberculosis). (Also, I think that if my two-year-old is asking for television, that's a big red flag of a reason not to let him watch it- and I mean that). I am not even more embarrassed (to the point that I hesitate to post this), that an hour later, I did not let him to watch the second half of Sesame Street so I could get crackin' on my "Not Me Monday" post. How's that for confessions, Rebecca? :)

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Okay, now it's 9:24pm and I still haven't published this. It's been a busy day and I may as well keep adding to the post.

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I did not remember fondly today the days before Oliver could walk or talk. Rebecca and I did not unwittingly decide to take our respective toddlers to Target this morning together. We did not find ourselves in one of the biggest wrestling matches that Target had ever seen, and we did not eventually drag them both out of the store literally kicking and screaming.

This evening we did not return home from a nice dinner in Nashville celebrating Mom & Greg's 17th wedding anniversary to find that yet another over-eager package opener had been hard at work. Scout had not torn open six presents and scattered them all over the entire house completely undoing all the hard gift wrapping we'd done the night before. If she had done that, I would be pretty angry with her right now. In fact, I might not be just fine if Scout happens to wander away with Cassidy for a while...

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Alright, that's all the "Not Me's" I have in me for one day.
To close, I'll leave you with a handful of photos from my camera.

I think Oliver was maybe dressing up for New Year's a little early.
He marched around in his diaper with a belt around his neck and his potty chair insert on his head with not an ounce of shame.

Here are a few photos from Dickens of a Christmas downtown Franklin this weekend. There are always lots of cool dogs that people bring to walk around with them - here's a St. Bernard named Goliath.
Ryan unwittingly shows off his newly bald spot.
Shopping for soaps at a little tent shop.
I think the only Dickens character we photographer was Fagan. He was thrilled to meet little Oliver though (as you may have guessed) and had big plans for turning him into a pickpocket.

A view of the crowded streets. So much fun! (And, such good food!!!)
These photos are from our morning at the Faires house. Oliver and Bea situated themselves at the piano and at one point started whispering back and forth with each other. We couldn't make out all of what they were saying, it was mostly a lot of "be right back" and nodding and such. Sometimes it's just so hard to stifle laughter so as not to distract the kids from their cuteness!
Here's Bea playing with the playdough Ryan, Oliver and I made last night. We added peppermint oil and it smells so good! It's great stuff and I'll include the recipe below. (It's especially pleasing to play with while it's still warm).
I french braided Bea's hair while she played (and then distracted her with online videos to finish it up). Hey, she may be the closest thing I ever have to a child with long hair - I have to take advantage of my moments!
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Peppermint Playdough Recipe

3C flour
1 1/2 C salt (I know, it seems like a lot!)
6t cream of tarter
3C water
3T oil
1 oz. peppermint extract (same as 3 1/2T)
Drops of food coloring - red or green; plain white like snow is also fun
note: it takes a LOT of red to not have pink dough :)

Combine all ingredients in a saucepan. Cook over medium heat until mixture pulls away from the side of the pan (5-10 minutes). Be sure to stir constantly! Knead. Store in an airtight container. Makes enough for 6 balls of playdough, each fitting a small butter tub.

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That's all for now folks. Don't forget that midnight tonight is the deadline for entering the Christmas trivia contest. So far there are only three contenders - you can do it, folks!

8 comments:

Rebecca said...

Now we're talking!

Tracy said...

Well, you know my adventures with hairless children. Olivia probably had as much hair at two as Oliver does. Toothpaste works wonders at holding those stubborn bows in. no need to wait until 15. :)

Christine said...

Molasses is also good at keeping bows in.

And I think Ryan was just subconsciously showing solidarity with Oliver and his hair.

And and...maybe our dogs will find one another on the road soon.

Claire Wise Photography said...

I did not snort loudly not once but twice at Ryan's hair and your commentary about the hair. ;)

Christine said...

You know, I think, upon a second reading, what is funniest about Ryan's hair accident is the placement of the clippers. He just stuck them in the middle of the top of his head. He didn't start at the hairline or anything--just in the middle.

Way to be brave, Ry.

Claire Wise Photography said...

sorry had to come back to this hair business. had to share with Joe. (with love & joy Ryan)

now I have to go copy the playdoh recipe and print it out. maybe we can get to that next week.

Tracy said...

I, too, had to show Eric the hair. We cut his hair together, but Eric always starts it by himself. He said he's going to start cutting it on the side from now on. (he, too, apparently starts cutting right in the middle....)

Anonymous said...

From a psycho-analysis view, I think he is trying to reconnect to his babyhood...take a look at some of his baby pictures!

I was intrigued as many others were why he started in the middle of his head....can you imagine if he would have started right at the front of the hairline!!! That would have been a reverse Mohawk.