.::still blinking::.

Don’t touch that it is VERY fragile. Put that back. Put it back. Put it down. Don’t throw things. Don’t throw them at me. Stop running. Don’t hit me. Don’t hit the wall. Don’t hit.

Get the screwdriver out of your nose. Where did you get a screwdriver? You may not have a screwdriver with your big plate of air for lunch. Where did you get a screwdriver, I thought I put it away with the handgun and the machete. If you eat lunch, I will let you play with a screwdriver or possibly a small hand held rake or a really sharp knife. Those are the best sort of bribes, the ones with a little danger involved.

Done with dinner. Fine. Go play with your toys. The big plate of air has given him a jump in energy and he starts his evening of swimming laps in the kitchen. That is where the longest stretch of virgin terrain exists.

As I am about to leave for my very favorite book club, the club that I faithfully attend. He falls and splits his lip open and gets a bloody nose. His lip swells to a quarter the size of his head and there is blood. The kind of blood that makes me a little woozy and the kind that we don’t like to get on the carpet.

What is that you say? You have a dagger in your heart? Well get off the carpet, I am not going to be paying THAT carpet cleaning bill.

A series of calls ensue to mothers, doctors and ask a nurse; which I really appreciate being there at all hours of the day to ask my first time mother insane questions of. Does he need stitches? Of course no one knows with out having a look at him and so we head up to Primary Children’s Medical Center. Where they tell us that they don’t put stitches in the mouth unless you have bitten off your tongue or only bitten it off half way. This is good to know.

We head home with the most expensive sprite, stickers and neosporin samples on the planet. For the rest of the night we should be safe. Maybe he is hiding the screwdrivers in his bed.

Playing trains. Notice King Tut in the lower corner.

My, my, my. Who do we have here? This guy looks so much like my HOA president, we have named him to match and Gentry now calls him his name.

We got up early and went for a hike with my mom and her boyfriend and Tazia. The hike was Adam’s Peak and it is near Cherry Hill, is that Ogden? Maybe Layton. Anyway, I carried Gentry in the pack on the way up. He was really cute and kept yelling to everyone. “Keep going.” “Big rocks.” “REALLY BIG ROCKS!” One time he yelled to my mom and asked what she was doing, she told him that she was hiking. She asked him what he was doing, he said, “I’m a backpack.” At the top of the hike we sat and ate and let Gentry play around a little bit, but it was really steep and there was a river right next to us.


One the way back down, jj carried Gentry. jj is a mountain goat. He practically ran down the mountain, like Cronk with Yzma (eezma) on his back. Spinach puffs anyone. He practically had his own theme music.

Later we had friends come over to eat dinner and die eggs. That was fun. They have a cute little girl a year younger than Gentry. They fought and played and played and fought. Normal kids. Gentry did most of the fighting, she just wanted to follow him around and do what he was doing.



We made bunny eggs. It was Martha’s idea.

Peek-a-boo.

Easter baskets with lots of treats from the Asian Market. Happy Easter

:: being safe ::

:: naps for me and the boy ::

:: remembering one year ago ::

:: and two years ago ::

:: learning to be an adult :: trying to be a good and smart parent ::

:: pulling out the summer clothes :: basking the the just warm enough sun :: leaving the windows open :: digging :: finding rocks and sticks all over the house that little hands have brought in ::

:: singing about alligators :: ernie on the moon :: itsy bitsy spider :: bumble bee :: rubber ducky ::

:: new friends for me and gentry :: watching to little bodies run around the yard ::

:: this suitcase ::

:: when we asked him what she was doing, he said she was loving ::

:: spending time in Logan :: taking relaxing walks while holding little hands or bodies ::

:: driving home in a misty blue storm ::

:: ikebana flower arranging :: this one and this one also ::

:: Dado Cubes ::

:: play with me mom :: dig with me mom :: chase me mom :: hold you ::

My, my. What do you have here? Could it be bananas in little boy slippers?

Obviously, where else would you keep them? This is similar to the time I found my clog full of raisins, somehow I prefered the clog filling more than this.

Trying to thwart anymore attempts at black eyes.

:: the idea of the boy eating actual food ::
:: the book that may make it happen ::
:: boots like superman that can help you fly to the things you want ::

:: mangoes ::
:: the sun coming out to warm me ::
:: warm little bodies to snuggle with ::
:: going outside to play ::

Remember this lady.

I want to keep going to the playgroup, but I am getting frustrated with other moms abilities to watch their kids, or lack there of.

One child at the play group was putting hula hoops around other kids necks and pulling them over. He is like five, everyone else is two-ish.

What do I do about this? What if the mom’s are not punishing their kids? Do I just give up and stop going? What do you guys do when people are mean to your kids? It is so frustrating to me. Can I tell other peoples kids what to do?

Also, I put Gentry in the daycare at my gym for an hour this morning while I worked out. He came back with an extension to his black eye. It now extends down his cheek and is really blue. Several people asked me what is wrong with his face today. I did not beat him. I wouldn’t. Do I let the gym know that my son came back with a huge bruise on his face today or is that just part of leaving kids in daycare?

I get the child food. It’s what I do, it is almost what I live for. The other day I was getting him some completely nutritious and natural snacks out of the pantry, Hershey Kisses.

To reward me for my kindness he came over and bit me on the butt. It didn’t really hurt, it mostly just scared me. But I yelled at him because I was startled by the pincer in an unexpected area and jj made him have a time out. When I was safely out of his site I burst into laughter, the silent and deadly kind. I did not want him to know he was so hilarious.

That is the last thing I need. A land shark who thinks he is funny. I keep imagining his little teeth sinking into my ample rump.