They are just so fluffy!!!

For the last week or two, we've noticed a couple of ducks in the neighborhood.  My neighbors are adding on to their house, but they have a pool.  Part of me thought maybe the ducks were nesting in their backyard since the family that lives there (and all their animals) have relocated during the renovation.

So imagine my surprise when I witnessed all these adorable little balls of fuzz emerging for the first time from the overgrown plant in my front yard:

It was all the noise the mother duck was making that got my attention.  She was sitting next to the flower bed on the deck quacking into my overgrown shrubbery.  Every few seconds another duckling would pop out until they were all present and accounted for.  It might have been the cutest thing in the history of ever.

Quacking into the plant where she had hidden her nest.

My only regret was that I had JUST taken Banner to school (I was technically off today but had a lunch thing).  He would have LOVED seeing the baby ducks waddle off on their first big adventure!

Good luck, little duckies!!!

It is possible he had it coming...

Oh, Haskell.

What to do about Haskell?

(Or, as Banner calls him, "A$$ Cow".)

Outside of being hit by a car (before I found and adopted him), and a couple of accidents along the way; Haskell has always been my easy keeper.  He maintains his weight eating less kibble than his sisters, loves to wear costumes and coats and is the BEST behaved dog at a party.  Especially when wearing a red bow tie.

He is patient with Banner.  Although, when he has had enough, Haskell has no problems with relocating to the child-free safety of the dog run...much to Banner's chagrin ("A$$ Cow!  Wheer ah oooo?  A$$ Cow!  Inside!  Now, A$$ Cow!...Peas?").

Sure, there are times when Haskell is annoying.  Like when he ate TWO ENTIRE HOMEMADE DESSERTS made by my brother last year, and didn't suffer at all.  Not even slight intestinal distress.

(Not that I was hoping for my dog to be sick or in pain.  Trevor, on the other hand, was really looking forward to all those slices of angel food cake and gingerbread brownies.  A little bit of indigestion on Haskell's part would have made Trevor feel a whole lot better about the situation.)

And then last week when we had people over for slow cooker tortilla soup that had been simmering for  ten hours in the kitchen.  Don't get me wrong.  The soup was fabulous (as it always is when Trevor makes it), but it would have been even better if Haskell hadn't stolen the FOUR AVOCADOS off the island, gently pealed them in the dog run, ate the good part and left a pile of skin and seeds behind a potted plant.  Just like the desserts, we knew it was all Haskell, too.  Because Gypsy and Alley simply think about eating something other than kibble, and get the runs.  Haskell, on the other hand, stomach of steel.  

It is obnoxious, really.

So, imagine our surprise when we arrived home from date night Thursday to discover Haskell's face was swollen up like a Shar Pei.  Other than looking ridiculous with lips that weighed at least ten times more than usual, Haskell was fine.  No difficulty breathing, no tummy upset, drinking/eating normally, no mouth sores, bad breath or broken teeth.  Granted, he didn't seem overjoyed with my poking his face, but that probably had more to do with annoyance (and the fact he was trying to go to sleep) than pain.

Rather than rush him to the emergency vet, we decided to wait and see.  The next morning, his face was slightly less swollen, and by the time we got home from work he was all better.

Still no idea what caused his head to swell, but I'm guessing it was an allergic reaction to…something.  Maybe a bug or spider bite?  We will probably never know, but it safe to assume it wasn't anything stolen from the kitchen.  At least not this time.

Poor swollen-headed, big-lipped A$$ Cow.

Nature (sort of)...

I got an email asking if we saw any wildlife while in Wyoming.  While the area is home to everything from wolves to bears to elk to moose, we saw surprisingly few animals during our ten days in the Tetons.  And by "few" I really mean "next to nothing".  In fact, the only animal we DID see with any certainty were bison.

 

Here let me show you a picture:

 

 

See them on the little rise in the ground in the middle of the image?  Just to the left of the three trees?  No?  Well, let me zoom in a bit for you:

 

 

How about now?

 

Trevor assured me at the time that all those tiny brown specks were, indeed, buffalo.  I wasn't convinced until we finally passed one that had wondered a little closer to highway 191 on our way to Moose. 

 

Oh, myopia.  You fickle b*tch.

 

Ironically, our lack of animal sightings meant that we actually saw more last year in Durango than we did after 10 days driving around Jackson Hole, Teton National Park and Yellowstone.  I still can't believe my first moose sighting was in southwestern Colorado near the Ice Lakes trailhead last summer.  Because, what?

 

Also, I can't seem to find it in any of my blog postings from last year, but we saw a black bear run across the road while driving through Hermosa (right where the railroad tracks cross 550) at dusk.  And by "we" I mean "Trevor" because I notice nothing.  Even when it is right in front of me.  I like to think of it as my very own completely useless superpower.  Just call me Captain Oblivious.

 

But back to animal sightings (or the lack thereof) in Wyoming...

 

Technically, we heard coyotes one night (and the death screams of whatever prey they took down), but I'm choosing not to count them since I also hear them periodically yipping about while sleeping in my bed at home in the middle of urban Dallas.

 

Which leaves the bat I spotted outside the ladies room in Teton Village and the few chipmunks I saw dart across the road while driving.  Not necessarily the wildlife safari I always expected from that part of the country, but I'm not complaining.  Why?  Because 19 month olds seem a lot like bait.  And nothing says "trolling for grizzlies" like a toddler covered in honey and peanut butter.

Who needs cable when you have a Haskell...

On Tuesday night, Haskell walked in the kitchen and stopped in his tracks.

He looked at the doggie door, paused and then looked at his water bowl.  And then back at the doggie door.  Then the water bowl again.  Doggie door.  Water bowl.  Doggie door.  Water bowl.

You could almost FEEL the wheels in his head turning as he tried to figure out what to do next.

Me:  "OMG, Haskell.  Pick one!"

Trevor:  "Don't rush him.  This is the most difficult decision he has had to make all day!"

God, I love that dog.

Not Peaches boo-ed my baby and simple minded dog...

 (...which sucks even more because her team totally won.) 

But we still dressed for success in the Final Four:

Oy, vey...

My husband, y'all. I swear.

On Tuesday, Trevor and I returned home to discover that one of the dogs had taken ill and exploded in the hallway. And because dogs go out of their way to get sick on hard-to-clean surfaces, the worst smelling substance in the history of the nose was globbed all over one of my grandmother's antique runners. Because OF COURSE.

(Spell check says "globbed" isn't a word.)

(It totally should be.)

Since I had a very hungry Banner in my arms (coupled with the fact that I am notoriously not good with bodily fluids), it was wordlessly decided that I would feed the baby while Trevor dealt with the Poop-ocalypse in the hallway. And by “deal with it”, all I really mean is that Trevor carried my poor, defiled rug outside and unceremoniously sprayed it off with the garden hose in the backyard. Then, after Banner was done with dinner, I passed him off to Trevor for bath time while I ventured out to do my best with the carpet cleaner and deodorizer.

Despite the team effort, it was immediately obvious that the rug would need professional cleaning. But first, it needed to dry and air out; something that was going to be difficult with the forecast calling for high winds, heavy downpours and potentially severe storms on Wednesday. We initially thought we could get away with leaving the rug outside overnight on Tuesday, but the 10 PM news shot that plan to hell. So, Trevor ran outside, grabbed the still damp rug and relocated it to the garage. Then he came back to the bedroom and hopped back in bed...WITHOUT washing his hands.

Me: “Seriously? You need to wash your hands after handling that rug. OMG, stop touch the bedding with your nasty hands!  What is wrong with you?!”

Trevor: “Why? You cleaned it already.”

Me: “Not with bleach or Lysol. Just some cleaner to hopefully keep the stains at bay and to neutralize some of the odor. It is still damp with dog poo water. Trust me.”

Trevor [Getting up from bed with an exasperated look]: “Fine.”

Trevor then proceeded to walk into the bathroom, turn on the sink and rub his hands together under the water. WITHOUT soap.

Me [Just as he was reaching to turn off the water…]: “Soap.”

Trevor: “I am. Hold on.”

Me: “You were about to turn off the water.”

Trevor: “No, I just like to let my hands soak before using soap, that’s all.”

Me: “Since when?”

Trevor: “Since always.”

Me: “Ha! Since never! If you use soap, but wash it away before it even has a chance to lather. You’re supposed to hum ‘Happy Birthday’ to yourself twice before rinsing.”

Trevor: “Whatever.”

Me: “Listen, I might have had Giardia in February. Humor me.”

Then we went to bed, and I forgot all about the rug until the next morning when I went to feed the dogs at 5:30 AM, opened the garage door and SMELLED it.

In the past, when we have something that needs to air dried that can’t go outside due to weather, we have draped it over one of the dog gates in the garage . So, I assumed Trevor had done something similar with the damp rug the night before when he brought it inside.

Except no. He hadn’t.

(Stupid me.)

Instead he chose to hang the rug – again, still damp with DOG SH*T – on top of the baby stroller.

I just stood there staring at it for several seconds, and realized that no amount of Lysol would ever convince me that the stroller was clean again.

Then I walked back to the bedroom and quietly (Banner was still sleeping) ripped Trevor a new a$$hole.

Seriously, y’all. It was like THIS INCIDENT all over again. When it comes to poo, Trevor never fails to disgust me. It is like his own special superpower.

I just hope it isn’t genetic.

Three dogs, one bed...

And to think we brought down extra dog beds
 this time so they could spread out!

An afternoon at the dam (a photo blog)...

Not a lot of water.

Same height as everyone else!

The tractor that got stuck.

Teddy checking out the cleaning-out-the-dam progress.

LOVE those cheeks!

Banner LOVED the tractor.

Pilgram

Awesome Pawsome

Just like grandpa.
(Sort of)

So I lied and didn't post this until today...

Gosh.  I am so behind.  I work on my posts all the time, but am usually too tired to proof at the end.  So instead of hitting "publish" I save the entry; thinking I'll come back and finish up tomorrow.  Except I start another post then, and the number of drafts on my dashboard grows and grows until - *WHAM* - I publish them all in a flurry of back-posting, RSS feed-screwing madness.

 

Annoying, I know.  My apologies.

 

I am absolutely LOVING my Mondays with Mommy.  The weather around here has been beautiful, and little b and I have really enjoyed playing outdoors and wearing our PJs well into the afternoon.

Sounds relaxing, right?

Well, sort of.  It is and it isn't, but I wouldn't change a thing.  Truth is that I am more exhausted on Monday night than I am on any other day of the week.  Chasing a toddler around solo is hard work! SAHMs don't get enough credit!

He can only propel himself backwards. 
I like to make "beep, beep, beep" noises like he is a dump truck in reverse.

Banner's latest word is "cracker".  Except he pronounces it "KRAK-ra".  And just one "KRAK-ra" will not do.  He needs one in each hand.  No idea why it makes a difference, but double-fisting is very important to the little guy.

(And that is the AMERICAN meaning of double-fisting for all you dirty minded Brits out there!)

I also need to invest in a cover for his car seat or a hand vacuum.  Crumbs everywhere!

 

Thanks to Face Week at school, Banner will now point to or touch his eyes, nose, ear, etc. when shown a picture of it.  His favorite body part of the moment is his tongue, which he LOVES to stick out (much to his grand aunt Mimi's dismay).

He has also gotten very helpful and wants to put things back where they go.  Unfortunately, this does not apply to his toys.  However, if I spill birdseed in the backyard, Banner is all over it and will dutifully pick up individual seeds and return them to the bag FOR HOURS.  He also has a real issue with the pollen pods our Mulberry tree has been shedding for the past couple of weeks.  He seems to think that they need to be picked up and put away, and - for a while - the "put away" place was either my hand or in a pile on the rug in the living room.  I've now convinced him that the most appropriate place for pollen pods is the empty flower pot on the front deck.

He will also bring you his plate when he is done.  This is awesome about 50% of the time.  It is less adorable when he hasn't finished eating and food goes EVERYWHERE.  I'm trying to focus on the whole "it is the thought that counts" thing, though, because I know he means well.  He wants so much to please.

(Thank goodness we have dogs.  Banner is their personal food-dropping hero.)

Banner is finally getting better when I drop him off at daycare.  He is still clingy and shy, but does his best to suck it up and not cry when he sees me leave.  His teachers make fun of him, though, because mere seconds after I walk out of the door, he comes out of his shell and is all like, "Heeeeeere's Banner!"

Apparently, shyness isn't an issue for him unless mommy is around. 

He also has started saying "Uh-Oh!" when he is about to do something that he knows he shouldn't.  Like picking up my gym shoes, pulling the petals off our neighbor's flowers or grabbing the remote.

 

Banner looks at me like I'm crazy a lot.  I'm trying not to take it personally.  He especially loves it when I sneeze.  You'd think he'd be over it since allergy season began and I started sneezing my way through the day, but NO.

 

During Car Week at school, Banner pedaled the little, plastic car around the classroom and dropped off his friends at the "kitchen" area. His teacher, Ebony, said he did this for at least half an hour. He is going to grow up to be a chauffeur. Or possibly a taxi driver for chefs.

Best. Nap. Ever.

He loves to run errands with his mommy and daddy and explore.  Only problem is that he is FAST and never seems to want to go in the direction that you want/need him to.  I'm pretty sure I've said it before, but I used to make fun of people who put leashes on their babies.  Not anymore!

Banner favorite outing last week was when we went to the Home Depot to look at all the flowers in the garden center.  We smelled Jasmine and (gently) petted the flowering plants.  Banner was especially obsessed with a pink azalea...or so I thought before I realized that he was just using it as an object to run behind to poop his pants.  The bathroom was being cleaned, so I was THAT MOM who changed her baby's dirty diaper in the back of my SUV for the whole parking lot to see.  I've sort of decided I don't care.  Your options are severely limited when stinky poop is on the line.

(Shakes head.  I find myself doing things more and more that I swore I'd never do when I became a mom.)

Banner now gives hugs if you ask for one.  Just about the sweetest thing ever. 

He also has decided that dogs eat grass, small pebbles and twigs.  He sees a dog on a walk in the neighborhood and immediately bends down to grab a handful of grass in an effort to befriend it.  Gypsy, Alley and Haskell humor him, because they know he has REAL food most of the time.

Banner is the little one flirting
with the girl in green and pink.

For the last eight months or so, I've had this pain in my left wrist.  I assumed I had strained a tendon or something, but apparently it is a very common problem called De Quervain Syndrome or "mother's wrist".  There isn't much that can be done to treat it with the exception of resting it (Which?  I have a toddler!  Haha!).  At least my pain has a name, though, and it explains why my wrist feels better towards the end of the week when Banner is in school, and worse on Tuesday after three days of mommy-son time.   

His favorite "game" is to open the front side door, put his toy outside for a "time out", close the door and then watch it through the glass.

(I don't get it.)

Thank goodness we have an alarm system that goes "beep! beep!" whenever you open or close an exterior door.  Otherwise we might have lost Banner by now.  I don't know what we will do once he can unlock them on his own.  He is already starting to figure out how to defeat some of our baby-proofing mechanisms around the house.  He is definitely too tall/strong/crafty for his own good!

Speaking of being tall, a bunch of his 24 month clothes are getting snug and he isn't even 15 months old yet.  When people guess how old Banner is, they almost always say, "Two", and are surprised when I tell them that he is only 14.5 months.  I vividly remember people thinking I was older than I was growing up and expecting more from me because of it.  I fear Banner is doomed to a similar fate. 

On the day Syracuse beat Georgetown in the Big East tournament last week, Banner walked up to Trevor and gave him an orange ball and a blue ball.  The next day, when Syracuse lost to Louisville for the championship, Banner delivered a red ball to his daddy.  I seriously considered buying a bunch of multicolored balls and having him help me fill out my NCAA tournament bracket.

I know I have more to say, but I need to run.  We are off to the ranch this weekend for a mini (four day) vacation, so I'm going to abruptly end this post and hit the "publish" button now.  More  lists of random memories to come since I can never get it together enough to post in a shorter and more timely manner. 

Until next time...