Routine

WALKING! He took 10 steps across his room. Pay no attention to the full-to-bursting diaper.


He was trying to get to this, his favorite toy of the moment.


Not a lot going on in our week otherwise. Research. Many trips to the library to get more research, and I always take the stairs because I am scared of elevators, and lately, I have abandoned my usual HQ767 call numbers (which are on the third floor that feels like the 6th floor because of all the mezzanine levels) for the BFs, which are on the 6th floor which feels like the twelfth. So, yeah.

Harry's walking quite a bit, but he still crawls when he needs to get someplace in a hurry. That's funny. Where the heck does he need to go in a hurry? To the book shelf, STAT.

Every night after we eat our dinner, the three of us clean the kitchen and play upstairs for an hour or so. Then we give Harry his bath, and the three of us play a little more quietly for twenty minutes. Finally, Harry puts on his sleep sack, nurses, and goes to sleep. Every night. That's what we do. It's fun-- even though Ben and I play too rough with Harry's balls, hurling them at each other and making Harry a little leary of balls and even though we have to combine play time with laundry putting away time every couple of days. Tonight, however, we are going OUT for the like 3rd time since Harry was born, so the sacred routine'll be disrupted. Scandal. Seriously, that's the most interesting thing I could think of to write about. Also? All of the pictures I took this week are of night time.

Except this one. Harry and I went to a coffee shop that has (really dirty) toys, and Harry was so excited to see a big kid-- like 4 or 5. They started playing together, and I thought it was odd that the kid was wearing jammy-like clothes, but he looked like a hippy, and he and his mom walkd to the coffee shop, which is in a hippy/yippy neighborhood, so I thought whatever, they have an organic cotton fixation; what else is new here. But I actually think he was in jammies because his mom mentioned casually and not in a don't-touch-him-or-lick-his-toys kind of way that he WAS HOME SICK FROM SCHOOL AND HAD A FEVER. WTF?? Why would you let your sick kid a) play with communal toys besides the yicky germy ones at the doctor's office that only sick kids play with anyway and b) play with a BABY? So Harry probably has the flu in this picture.

Here are some pictures of us doing that thing we do.

Helping us clean the kitchen

Playing with Daddy

Playing basketball. With a bat.



Trying to see if Mommy has in fact died of boredom and needs spitty CPR

Uh-oh. Somebody can open his toybox