Wrestling with Eeyore

Happy birthday, Omar's Dad. :)

Good morning, sunshine!

Grandma Irma

Omar has a new best buddy, and it's Grandma Irma! 

For some reason, anything she says gets him giggling like crazy.

He will laugh even more once he understands what she is saying...

(Overheard conversation in the backseat:)

"No-more MONKEYS IN THE bed...

Grand-ma CALLED THE POlice...

and-they TOOK IT TO jail...

be-cause you DON'T SUPPOSED to BE...JUMPING ON THE BED!"

(This was her version of 10 little monkeys jumping on the bed..you know, one falls off and bumps his head, mom calls the DOCTOR and the doctor says, no more monkeys jumping on the bed...well, grandma calls the police...:)

Omar is never going to trust an umbrella again!

I was in a bit of a rush this morning because of a little poo-splosion Omar had just as I was putting him in his car seat...I threw everything in my bag and grabbed the car seat and lugged everything down the stairs. I grabbed the umbrella and carefully positioned it over the car seat so that Omar wouldn't get wet...and then I looked down and saw his head was drenched!!! Huh?

In my rush, I threw a water bottle in my bag that I failed to put the cap on correctly and it had dripped down through the car seat cover onto his head! He never made a peep--just looked very puzzled, and then smiled hugely at me when I gasped as I realized what happened. Oh, Omar...

This reminds me of the time I put the cap on the milk slightly askew and then Art shook the milk jug and covered our whole kitchen with spilled milk. 

I told Art about our mishap today and his response was: "Finally you see that your cap problems are affecting our whole family. We are going to have an intervention tonight."

Today is the first beautiful misty rainy fall day, and Omar's 4 month birthday!

still conspicuous

*sigh*...Ihatewearingmypersonalbusinessonmysleevelikebeingpregnantsoyou'reeveryone'selevatorconversationstarterIthoughtthiswouldendafterIdeliveredthebabybutI'mstillOUTthereeverytwoorthreehourswhenIgetthatsensationthatI'mgoingtopopandIneedtodragmydiscreetnotsodiscreetblackbagbreastpumpdownthehallwhydidIweartheseloudclickyshoesintothebathroomfortentofifteenminutesthentothesharedkitchentoputmymilkinthesharedrefridgeratorandwashmypumpaccessoriesinthesharedkitchensinkwhilemakingsmalltalkwithpeopleatthemicrowaveyesthisismypumpoheverytwotothreehoursit'snotthatbigofadealandhowisyourworkgoingorwhatdidyoudothisweekend?...*sigh*

Spooky silly dad stuff

The scene: walking home with Art and Omar from work on Friday night after dark past shadowy trees and over an eerie creek. Art has Omar in the infant carrier on his belly.

Art: Omar, the Cucuy is gonna get you!
Omar: ooooh! (wide eyes, hand in mouth)
Lisa: Art! don't tell him these things! You're scaring him (me)!
Art: Omar, be quiet and pretend you are my stomach so he doesn't see you...there...we're past it. whew! Good job, Omar.