Dave just got back from the grocery store. He stumbled in the door, looked at me accusingly and said, "I must love you a lot."

Awwww, I know that look. (You know that Simpson's ep where Marge says "I'm a very lucky woman" and Homer responds "And I'm a wonderful man."? That's DH and me today. I'm still in my bathrobe, drinking tea and posting in Bitches. He's Swiffering the kitchen floor.)

Robin's trick is an excellent one. A baby with its butt in the air isn't going anywhere.

However, honest to God, the simplest solution is to change the baby on a big changing pad on the floor. This also saves your back as the baby grows to a toddler.

Jess, my sistah!

Dave is putting away groceries and making plans to Be Productive. I am in flannel pants and a sweatshirt posting in Bitches and sipping the coffee he brought home for me.

Bad wife!

Then again, I did nursemaid him through the flu the past couple of days. He kinda owes me.

Susan, maybe you could give her a minute to look at the stars first, and then tell her firmly it's changing time, and that she can see them again, after? They understand so much more than we think they do. Also, if I didn't mention the ankle trick that Robin mentioned, that's how I controlled the situation. They could still flip a little, but it gives you way more leverage than they have. If you're a rightie, hold her left ankle with your left index finger and thumb, and then encircle the rest of your fingers around her right ankle, and hold them up and together.

Ginger, the tape came! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I haven't gotten a chance to watch it yet, because Chris has cuted me away from the TV.

Cutie Chris...
He usually refuses to get up before 7am, and although he can tell time on a digital clock, and recognize some times of day on a regular clock (would "analog" be the proper term for that?), if it is 6:anything, it is six o'clock to him, so if Ben leaves him at 6:45 (or 6:59 for that matter), he's upset. He won't get up until the first digit reads 7.

Anyhow, we've been trying to get him to lighten up in this area. Yesterday, he came down (before Ben) before 6:30. I wouldn't normally be wild about him being up that early, but it was nice to see he was being less rigid. Because he's teaching himself to read, and like all small folk, knows how to work things like VCRs, DVD players, and the TiVo box, when he got into the menu function he realized The Book of Pooh is on the Disney Channel at 5:30am, followed by The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, at six, and Bear in the Big Blue House, at 6:30.

Last night, when we said their prayers, at the end, Chris added, "Dear God, please help me to wake up at 5:30 tomorrow morning, so I can watch The Book of Pooh." Charming? Sure, but who wants their four year old up at 5:30am? Not us. Even though I'm usually up, one of the reasons I stay up when I wake that early, is so that I can have some solitude. We both told him he wasn't to get up until at least 7:00. He was inconsolable. So, I explained TiVo to him, and that I'd record the shows for him. He was highly suspicious, but I once TiVo'd another show for him, so he half-accepted what I said, but there was very little trust there, so he added on a "Dear God, help mommy to TiVo The Book of Pooh, so I can watch it in the morning."

[Scott, being more street smart than I, set the boys' clock back an hour, after they fell asleep, as added insurance. I felt that was sort of dirty pool, but kept my mouth shut.]

Anyhow, it worked, and once he saw this morning, that it was 7:30, and yet he could still watch his show that airs at 5:30, he had faith. He's watching The Book of Pooh, again, right now. Now, I pretty much hate what Disney has done to Pooh, but I watched the opening with him, or rather watched him watch the opening. There's a shot of a boy's bedroom, very modern, with PC in it, and everything. You hear a mother call, "Christopher, time for school!" You don't see Christopher Robin, but you see his hands, holding a book entitled, The Book of Pooh. He shuts the book, and then it is filmed as if you (the viewer) are entering the book, going along the pathway in the 100 Acre Wood.

My Chris gets one of our Pooh books, holds it just so on the couch (he's standing, facing the couch), shuts it when Christopher Robin shuts his book, then opens it wide, lays it on the couch and leans on top of the open book with his upper body (so his legs are just dangling in the air) as if he is entering his book and going along the path in the 100 Acre Wood.

I have to capture this on video. I don't know if the story translates, and I've gone on too long, but it's the cutest thing I've seen in a long time, and I've seen a lot of lethal cuteness.

"Dear God, help mommy to TiVo The Book of Pooh, so I can watch it in the morning."

I. Love. This.

Gronk. So much gronk.

I woke up at 9:30 after a lot of strange dreams and have what feels like no motivation. And no coffee. I should really do something about that. Will coffee bring my motivation back? Or pie. Pie would be good too.

Dave just got back from the grocery store. He stumbled in the door, looked at me accusingly and said, "I must love you a lot."

That's DH and me today.

And it worked too, Jess. In the past, he has also prayed that Nana would take him to Maine. We, of course, told Nana, but then she did take him to Maine, and another time for Nana to give him a toy rocket ship. Who's to say that's not how it works, says I?

Dave just got back from the grocery store. He stumbled in the door, looked at me accusingly and said, "I must love you a lot."

Heh. Scott is grocery shopping, or at least, the last time I talked to him, trying to find a parking spot at the grocery store. I just posted in Natter a little while ago that I'm feeling a little guilty over being--if not grateful for, than at least--mindful that the anxiety attacks I've had recently are probably part of the reason he volunteered to go shopping today, in the first place.

Speaking of, I'd better get myself ready and make it look like I did something around here, because shopping today is going to be a bitch. I haven't watched the weather, but we're supposed to get the blizzard too, and I think Scott said we were in the 18" zone.

Timelies all.

It's snowing like mad here, too -- we probably have a good few inches already and it's only been snowing since 10 a.m. We're supposed to get 12-16 inches before it's all over, and naturally one and all are reacting with panic at the White! Powder! of! Doom!

However, honest to God, the simplest solution is to change the baby on a big changing pad on the floor.

Betsy is wise. We don't have a changing table for Sara (and didn't for Ben either after a while, come to think of it). Use the travel pad from your diaper bag if you can. And definitely try the ankles-in-one-hand trick -- that's what I did with all three, and Sara is a super-squirmer. I change her on the floor most of the time, and I always have everything ready -- new diaper unfolded, wipes already pulled out, something she can play with -- before I open the dirty diaper.

Also try giving Annabel something usually forbidden, like Cindy suggested -- anything not breakable or dangerous, but something she's usually not allowed to have. This, too, shall pass, though.

I've seen a lot of lethal cuteness

This definitely qualifies. I love this story.

Sara's cuteness right now is this: When she's crying and I pick her up, she pats *my* shoulder first. Whether she thinks it's supposed to be reciprocal or she's asking for the back pats she gets when I'm trying to soothe her, I don't know, but it breaks my heart every time.

Morning all. I was listening to CNN this morning and I heard (more than once) the words "Hurrican force winds", in reference to the winter storms out east.

I don't know if the story translates

I need to grocery shop too. Maybe I can send the cats... Of course then I will end up with kibble and other randomness.