24-Pound Penguin

Netflix! You're killing me! I'm supposed to *save* money, not spend it! I've had Crash (Which I know I should watch, but I simply can't commit the *time*) for weeks.... I'm sure you understand...some things are important but you just can't prioritize them in front of "...or I could just sit here. And *not* watch 'Crash' for the next two hours."

Anyway. This week here's what happened:

Gage began the next-infamous catch phrase "My byself." As in:

"Gage, Let me give you some yogurt."

"No, Gage do it my byself."

Whatever, dude. Go ahead. Do it "Your byself."


Also, we went Trick-or-Treating. Thanks, Steph, for braving the torrential downpour. Yes, I said torrential.

It's not the easiest thing in the world to walk through the dark, pouring rain, carrying an umbrella, a 24-pound penguin and a sopping wet bag of candy. (Because of course *he* wasn't foolish enough to wade through all the puddles. He was clever enough to demand a ride.)

A kindly, elderly lady handed a Tootsie-pop to Gage. I'm thinking "Here's a chance for me to prove what a good job I've done teaching Gage manners. We've gone over this a hundred times. Here comes the old 'please' and 'thank you.'"

Me: "What do you say?"

He: Watching elderly lady with an obvious light in his eyes. "Put the lollypop in da bag."

Me: (smacking forehead) "D'oh!"



But all in all, things are going well. Gage learned to scale the tall side of the couch. Which, upon Mike's and my discovering, we requested he repeat 567 times. So he should sleep well tonight, anyway. But he never tires of "Where's Gage? Here I am! Comin' up the couch!" Wiry little devil.

Lila is totally up in the crawling position. I'll have to post a pic, although the only one we have is totally out-of-focus (Thanks, Mike. Not pointing any fingers, but, you know... There *is* a focus feature. Just sayin.').... Heck. I'll post it anyway. You'll like it.



And...she started solids! She's finally eating cereal and bananas. We'll see how that goes (read: So far...not well. Have I mentioned how much *laundry* I've done today!?) ....

And I had an all-out argument with Gage today. You'd really think an adult would be above that ('cause that's what I am now, right?), but no. Not so much.

Me: (collecting Gage from playing at cousin Jackson's house.) "We have to leave now."

He: "O-tay. Bring dis home." (confidently holding a tiny black pick-up truck that belongs to Jackson)

Me: "No. That belongs to Jackson."

He: (after careful consideration) "No. Gage bring home."

Me: "Nooo. Jackson has toys that stay at Jackson's house. Gage has toys for Gage's house."

He: "Nooooo. Gage no toys. Jackson toys. Gage no toys."

Me: "Right. You've got no toys. You poor, poor thing."

Does my cynisism know no bounds!? Hoping *someday* that will change....