a small glimpse into my life. and a slight indication as to why the future often terrifies me.

After I removed Iris's wet diaper, my agile little ninja did her twist-and-launch maneuver, catapulted herself off the floor and ran shrieking across the living room. I caught up with her and said, "Iris, let's put your clean diaper on before you pee on my rug."

Iris smiled at me.

Then she peed on my rug.

where i were

Besides having the never-ending plague over here, we've had quite the month. I'll spare you all the phlegmy details and instead fill you in on Phil's high school reunion this past weekend.

Here I am with my date, Andrea. Isn't she sweet?

The reunion festivities kicked off at a bar on Friday night and thankfully Andrea, who is the wife of one of Phil's closest and oldest friends and has also become one of my most favoritest peeps, was there to hang out with. I don't know if you've ever been to someone else's class reunion but it's... strange. Right after this picture was taken, we got hit on by a couple of 21 year olds. It was awkward. And weird. By the way, Kevin, Andrea's husband, watched the whole thing happen and didn't come over until after they left. To laugh at us. Did I mention that Kevin secretly reads my blog? Oops... not so secret anymore. Sorry Kev. (Payback.)

At the stroke of midnight our coach was preparing to turn into a pumpkin, but our husbands were not ready to leave so we bounced. However, as we made our exit we realized that it was practically typhooning outstide. (Yes, I realize that I accidentally typed outstide instead of outside but I'm leaving it because it was exactly that... a TIDAL WAVE of rain, pelting my face and my hopes of not having to wash my hair the next morning.) I took off my heels, rolled up my jeans and we made a three-and-a-half-block run for it.

Got back to Phil's parents' house where my children were nestled all snug in their pack-n-plays/whatever and Mama B. and I chatted for a little while before I headed off to bed.

The next morning my hair was curly. Not surprisingly. But it was a delightful day nonetheless. We headed over to see Chantelle, Phil's high school sweetheart (oooooh... scandalous! Not really.) who is like the sweetest girl and has the sweetest family and every time we see them they are so sweet to my kids and it's all very sweet. So the better part of our day was spent visiting and catching up with them, and then we headed back to drop off the kids and head to the Loons baseball game at Dow Diamond.


Now friends, Dow Diamond is something to behold. If you look very closely at this picture

you will notice the awesome chemical plant in the background, spewing loveliness into the beautiful blue sky. So when the fireworks started, all I could think was This can't be good. I named this firework Super Dioxin:

The lovebirds watched the fireworks until the grand finale. And when I say lovebirds, I mean Phil and his friends. After the first one sent a smoldering ash a mere 15 feet from my chair I bolted for the safety of the pavilion and watched the rest of them there. Very carefully. I'm a pansy. I was only thinking of my children.

Here's the crew after the game:

Karen, who was there when Phil and I got engaged; Kerianne, who organized the entire reunion; Phil; and Chantelle.

After the fireworks ended it began to pour. Again. The timing was impeccable in terms of the baseball game but it meant that once again we had to make a run for our car. And my hair was like, WTH. Seriously?

We got up on Sunday, celebrated Father's Day with a yummy breakfast and looooooooots of coffee, packed up the car and headed back to Ann Arbor. Thanks be to Mama and Papa Brabbs for taking such good care of my children; and mad props to my flat iron for coming through like gangbusters this morning.

more fun at the brabbses. or is it brabbs'? or perhaps brabbseses? one can never be sure.

Iris had been in bed for about 15 minutes when we heard her on the monitor: "DeeDee! Dropped it!" (DeeDee is her pacifier.) Ocean said he wanted to go give it to her. Phil went with him to supervise and as they were coming back down the stairs Ocean exclaimed, "I did it! I saved the day!" Phil replied, "You're like a hero." Ocean said, "Sometimes I drop my binky and you're a hero, dad."

Me: (running around like crazy trying to get dinner ready)
Ocean: (rubbing his eye) My eye is all blinky.
Me: It's probably because you're tired.
Ocean: No, it's because you poked me in the eye, mom.

Ocean: (sitting on the potty, and a little distressed) The poop won't come out of my penis!
Me: Poop comes out of your bottom. Pee comes out of your penis.
Ocean: Pee comes out of my penis? Awwwwww... that's so cuuuuuute!

Last night Ocean, Phil and I were playing an intense game of Memory. Iris was entertaining herself by walking on the coffee table. Once I noticed what she was doing I called out, "Iris, you need to sit down. We don't stand on the coffee table." She said, "Yes, Mommy," sat down and, wide-eyed, looked at Phil and said, "Did you see that?!"

weeping and gnashing of teeth, or funny stories? how 'bout funny stories.

I'm tentatively back online.

My hard drive was replaced.

I still have no idea if any of my data can be recovered.

So to change the subject, I will tell funny stories.

The kids and I walked to Jefferson Market today to get a muffin and as we were sitting outside amongst all the neighborly chit-chatting someone said something like, "Yeah, this baby came out with black hair." Ocean's eyes got huge and he yelled, "MY POOP IS BLACK!"

This morning on the way back from The Soccer Practice That Wasn't (as in, Ocean decided to play on the playground instead) he was getting tired and cranky. I was doing a pretty good job of ignoring the whining when Iris piped up: "Chill out, Ocean."

Ocean was eating an apricot and he started vigorously rubbing his head. When I asked him what he was doing he replied, "I got juice on my hand. So I'm wiping it in my hair."

Iris woke up from her nap before Ocean and I went to go close his door so she wouldn't wake him up. She was talking loudly and Ocean yelled from inside his room, "Stop it, Iris!" Under her breath Iris said, "Shush, Ocean."

We've hit a picky eating stage with Ocean. Trying to get ideas for the types of foods he is interested in, I asked him what his favorite food is. "Artichokes," he answered. He's never even had artichoke.

A friend's baby was at our house and was babbling and cooing at Ocean.
Ocean: She's talking to me!
Me: What did she say?
Ocean: Bashafristracka.
Me: And what does that mean?
Ocean: Rocket.

Every night when he gets in bed, Ocean asks, "How was your day? Who'd you play with?" As you tell him all the things you did, he counts them on his fingers.

This is Iris's bedtime routine. After we rock and sing a song I put her in her bed and she says, "Sit." I sit on the floor next to her crib and she says, "Hand." I hold her hand and say prayers. When I say, "Thank you, Jesus," she says "AMEN." As I stand up to leave she calls out, "Thank you!"

My sister was holding six balls. Ocean was trying to count them but kept saying she had five, because that's currently his favorite number. (Ten more minutes at the park? How about five. Three years old? Nope... five.) We told him to touch each ball as he counted. Which was working great until he touched the purple ball twice. It went like this--
Ocean: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven! FIVE!

Also, Ocean calls his mouth his little hole. As in, "That bite of broccoli won't fit in my little hole." And he points to his mouth.

And, just because I can't help myself, Phil liked Bride Wars better than The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.

The end.