Seriously? Seriously? This is What Polltakers do?

Headline Today: Poll: Obama leads McCain among people who don't have pets.

Goggles

Morgan started swim lessons yesterday. By the look of the photo above, you'd think they went well.

Au contraire.

I could try to find SOME silver lining in the half hour of wet education that she had, but the truth is that she did. Not. Like. It.

My daughter doesn't like getting shampoos so it shouldn't surprise me that when the instructor started the class with, "Okay, everybody put your whole head underwater" there was bound to be some rebellion.

To her credit, she did manage to take up about 20 of the 30 minute class negotiating with the instructor telling him that she was "too little" to be doing this and "didn't want to". I was immensely proud when I witnessed my child slinking--and that's no exaggeration-- slinking quietly out of the pool hoping that he wouldn't notice that his class of 4 had diminished to 3 students.

Fortunately for Morgan, Dan used to teach swim in high school so he spent 45 minutes with her last night at the pool getting her to laugh less nervously around the water. He has the patience of Job, I swear. (Have I mentioned that I LOVE this man?)

I forgot to mention something I did that borders on cruel. After swim lessons, I took Morgan to Toys *R Us to pick out a My Little P*ny toy. The cruel part is that I didn't buy it. I let her CHOOSE it and told her that when she can blow bubbles with her nose under water then we'll rush right over and purchase them.

To my credit, *ahem*, she knocked on my bedroom door this morning and pronounced, "I want those ponies, Mom!" My evil plan was beginning to take effect.

Now I rarely do this, but I'm asking for advice: How do I get Morgan to take the plunge?

Fourth Fun

We spent the morning of the 4th with our super friends, Steph and Piet, at the parade. That cutie on the left is Annelise. We love these people!

Annelise is exactly 2 years younger than Morgan. She spent most of the morning exalting, "We're Muricans!" and "toasting" flags with me. I laughed at her way of saying "Americans".

Um, okay, I'm not proud of this photo of me with pregnancy face but who cares... This is Morgan and her Momma with our LIGHTSTICKS!!! We love lightsticks.

And Morgan and Daddy with lightsticks, too. Right before fireworks. Ah, summer.

What's That Smell?

Earlier this week my husband and I noticed a strange smell coming from Morgan's room. At first it was just irritating and we thought it might be a smelly sock. 

Or 20 smelly socks. 

But then it got downright toxic and we had her sleep in another room. We considered calling Nicor Gas to see if there was a leak. But the smell was isolated to her room; we banished the idea that gas smell chose to stay to a 4 year old's domicile. 

I was about to send Dan up to the attic to see if a bird decided to take it's life in the rafters above Morgan's ceiling. It was kind of far fetched but desperate times call for crazy-headed madness. Besides, we just closed up the 13 entrances in the roof that the birds had been using as revolving doors to our attic. (Recall my earlier post on contractors.) Revenge was in the air.

Fast forward to last night. After a whole day of airing out said child's room, the smell was intolerable. Morgan fessed up: "It's in my closet." 

Before her bedtime, Dan found a baby doll bathtub in her closet filled with some stagnant water and toilet tissue. Mommy Morgan had apparently been up to her maternal duties. The water was in the pre-mildew stage, but man was it awful. 

We quickly cleaned up what we could of the situation at that late hour and attempted to watch a movie in our bedroom. 

Morgan fussed to Dan that she needed the little sink to her kitchen set before she went to bed and for some reason he complied and got it from downstairs. When you're that tired, you just assume that little kids have strange security issues about their possessions.

We should've known better.

Within the next 10 minutes, Morgan must have made 10 trips to the bathroom. And no toilet was flushing. My Mommy radar was up, "Dan, I bet that child of ours is filling up that play sink with water."

I am so smart. 

I walked into her room to find our happy little domesticator washing dishes. Instead of sleeping.

I was less sympathetic to her domestic cause and put on my "Mommy ain't happy" face. 

We put a strict "no water in the bedroom" rule in effect immediately and all but tied our 4 year old to her mattress.

Sleep came strongly that night.

To the AP

Dear Associated Pr*ess,

When I read the headlines of the day, I feel compelled to go back to bed. 

I know that precious lives have been lost and terrible things are happening in the world. I'm not one of those "rose colored glasses" sort of people.

But do 90% of the headlines have to be negative? Hurtful? Hopeless?

I know that there are some good things happening, too. Redemptive-type things. 

So I'm going to happynews.com where I can read about the Chinese unborn baby and mother who survived the earthquake. *sigh* Isn't she amazingly beautiful? 

I know you have a civic-ish duty to give us the scoop on the world, but if you give a more balanced view of the redemption, the beauty and the joy as well as the sorrow, it would be appreciated.

Sincerely, The World

Resident Artist

A drawing of a Mommy, a baby and a big sister. 

A drawing of some really groovy birds. I love how the red and green ones look like they're dancing.

This is a picture of me. Apparently I'm bell shaped. 

And this one (insert laughter here) is Dumbo. 

I mean Dan. 

His shirt says "Google" on it according to Morgan.

Sounds of Music

I took a page out of my friend Sarah's book to write this one:

Screaming: "Debbie's here! Debbie's here!" Morgan is relieved that Debbie came on Tuesday to take her to see friends. Sick mommies are no fun, but Debbies are lots of fun.

Delirious Laughter: Upon hearing that our dryer is on the fritz and the washer has a full load of wet clothes. Can you believe it?

*sigh* of Relief: Upon waking up this morning without the headache and severe nausea I've had for two days. Thank you, God.

Giggling: Having Dan come into our room at 5am to have an early morning date: We watched Arrested Development. He still smells like onions to me, so he watches the show on the floor while I'm in bed. Still, a really fun date. I miss this guy. (He sleeps downstairs for now until my nausea subsides.)

Dumbfounded Silence: Upon ordering a bagel in the Dunkin Donuts drive thru and hearing a strange story from the employee. I told him I had a pregnancy craving for Sesame bagels. In an effort to relate to my pregnancy story, he told me that his girlfriend just had a baby. After he left her. But he's still on good terms with his ex (and child?) What would you say? I said, "Thank you for the bagel."

That low "hmmm" smile/sound mothers make when their child does something right: Every time Morgan prays. Or shares. Or draws a funny picture.

Gasp: Watching this video of my friends' son Alex. You've got a baseball scholarship coming your way, Marc and Sar!