*Poof* Just like that, gone.
I am tired today. Leif was up at 4:30am and what is unusual about this is that he would not go back to sleep. He was flat out convinced this was the time we get up. At about 5:30 or so I gave up, pulled him out of the crib and layed on the floor with him (bad move I know, but I was tired)... at this point Leif started on a game of name and touch (i.e., poke hard) mommy's body parts. "Eye" and he touches my eye, "nose"and he touches my nose, yes, then I know what is coming next... NOSTRIL. No, he doesn't say nostril, but it is the natural progression in Leif world from nose. Ack, as his finger extends as far up as possible.
Let's go watch a movie I tell him and get gleeful responses of "moo-wee"! Baby Einstein buys me a few minutes of closed eye time until I hear *crash*! Eyes pop open and Leif is toppling the barstools in the dining room, no longer enamored with Baby Neptune. Grumble, grumble...
Finally 6:30 arrives and I mercilessly swung the door open to the Master bedroom where AB is/was snoozing away. Minutes later I am in the shower. I can still hear Leif screaming his head off outside the Master bedroom door, but *I* am in the shower.
He has had a real mommy attachment thing going on. He needs to be either on my lap or in my arms most all of the time and while I love all the attention, it is getting tiring being the only one who can console him. I know, it is a phase. Next week, it will be all about daddy.
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Friday I succeeded in getting my haircut. I have a new stylist. I successfully escaped the owner's grasp again. She seems to fire or let go a lot of the stylists I use, or at least two so far. Until she hires a new stylist she always takes me over as her client. Problem is, I don't care for her haircutting style. No matter what, I end up with the same cut everytime. I couldn't make my appointment Thursday night, so I rescheduled. Darn the receptionist tells me, Jenny isn't available Friday evening, but do you want to come in next week? NO! I tell her, I will take whoever is available.
I got a very, very young girl. Graduated from high school a mere 1.5 years ago. She also loved high school, would LOVE to go back. People like that bug me... I just can't believe that anyone really loved high school. It is supposed to be a miserable time for everyone. Immediately my feelings towards her start clouding. But when she tells me why she liked high school (because she was homeschooled up to that point), I cut her some slack. I got a great haircut and once again have wormed myself away from Jenny. If she fires this new girl I am going to decide I am just bad luck and find another salon.
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Saturday morning Leif had fun at swimming lessons. He still *hates* floating on his back, but we just ignore the teacher during that part. A quick trip to a used kid's clothing store after that. I was in search of jeans for Leif, but no luck. Instead I found a flannel in the same fabric as one I have (coincidentally also from Gap - circa 1994 or so) and a cute sweater in 3T I couldn't pass up for next year. Saturday afternoon a "quick trip" to Costco to get TP, paper towels, olive oil and parmesan. $326 later...
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Sunday we walked with our friends and their dogs. I found out the "mountain" I thought we hiked last weekend was not actually THE mountain. No, it was a hill. So no more touting the "I did The Mountain in 20 minutes up"... ha ha ha. Winny chased 3-4 jackrabbits with her doggy buddies. Her one on one with a jackrabbit = no chance in hell. Her and her two buddies against one jackrabbit = maybe we should watch them a little closer...
My Broncos bit the dust in their bid for the Superbowl. I am positive it was because their good luck charm (Leif in his Broncos outfit) was sleeping and woke up with 3:34 left when it was too late to do any good. AB's team, otoh, is making their first Superbowl appearance ever. This morning I gave in and ordered Leif a Seahawks outfit. He will be dressed in blue and green from head to toe in two weeks.
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Leif remains enthused about his shishies. The two remaining fish are doing well. Don't ask...
This weekend Leif had an epiphany though that I thought I would write about. Normally he brings a book and we sit down and read it, 14 times or so. After three times through The Belly Button book (which btw is a great book - Leif dances when we sing their favorite song and at the end he says "no no" repeatedly that we don't sing the song in winter time), I told him that he could go get another book. Leif looked at me like I was joking. No seriously, I tell him, go pick out another book! Suddenly a new world has opened up! A world where we can read a book twice and move onto something new! Wohoo!
This lasted for about 40 minutes. We would read a book, maybe twice, then he would go get a new one. And he is picky. He doesn't just grab a random book. No, he examines the spines to find the most appealing book. I may regret teaching him to pull out a few books to look at the covers and see if he would like it or not. But oh well! No more reading the same book for hours on end!
The other new development this weekend is that Leif seemed to be more adept at playing by himself in our presence. This was especially helpful while the football game was on and Leif colored while daddy watched the game and worked. I was able to clean out my closet!
I did copious amounts of laundry this weekend. Frightening amounts really. What this said was that everything left in my closet was things that I hadn't worn in a minimum of two weeks. I took this opportunity to pull each of those things out and honestly look at it and ask if I will EVER wear it? Many received the "umm no". Others got the "I can wish..." Those size 8 pants were so darned cute... in 1996. I got over it. IF I should ever wear a size 8 again I will buy new cute clothes, I will deserve it. Until then, bye bye tapered leg pants, old sweatshirts and ancient skirts.
Next weekend, the drawers. I ordered NEW pajamas, 3 pairs! My sleeping t-shirts are so holey it is embarrassing and no one even sees me in them. When they arrive, my dresser drawers are getting the once over and every single holey shirt is going into the rag bag.
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