For the LOVE!

Consider this my Love Thursday post - in that I would LOVE it if the guy who cuts our grass would one day comply with my oft-repeated request to not.come.during.naptime. And I do realize how completely bourgeois it is to complain about the hired hand who keeps the yard all neat and tidy while I sit inside on the couch eating Cheetos and watching soap operas (and, ahem, working), but it's not like we don't pay him a whole bunch of money every month to make a whole bunch of empty promises about all the wonderful things he's going to do that will make the angels sing over our shrubbery and then not show up for weeks at a time while our grass/weeds grows knee high, including the day before our daughter's back yard birthday party even though we reminded him multiple times.

And breathe.

Wait 'til Krispy Kreme hears about this

For the past several days J has been carrying around the chicken leg from her play kitchen/best gift we've ever given her - intermittently attempting to cram the whole thing in her mouth and calling it a donut. I have no idea why, and I try not to constantly correct her because I've learned she figures these out on her own all too quickly and the cute malapropisms fall by the wayside. But for some reason this one I couldn't let go.

She apparently processed this information but is not yet completely convinced that Mommy is right on this one. So now what does she call it? Chicken donut... or donut leg, depending on her mood.

The same day she fell in love with the chicken donut she was carrying it around with her play ketchup bottle and at some point when I wasn't looking stuck the chicken leg in her mouth - meaty end first. The bone end of the chicken leg is shaped exactly like the mouth of the ketchup bottle and eerily similar in color to her tongue - so it took me several seconds to realize she hadn't permanently disfigured her tongue by sticking it in the ketchup bottle. I was most horrified by the fact that she didn't seem at all upset by it. Silly Mommy.

Somebody should have told me about this sooner

This morning while J was eating her giant bowl of "Dora Stars" I was taking advantage of a rare opportunity to chat up MOMD by the kitchen sink.

J: "Stop doing that, Mommy."

Since I was leaning benignly against the counter, not singing, dancing, showering her with horrid affection, or any of the other things I'm often advised against doing, I asked what particular behavior she would have me cease and desist.

J: "Talkin' a Daddy, don't talk Daddy."

Me: Why not?

J: "Daddy's TROUBLE."

Probably true, but I think that warning came a decade or so too late.

In other, less hilarious news, we had what seemed at the time to be a potty training triumph this week in the form of "pee-pee Mrs. Bell's potty!" at school. Mrs. Bell, MOMD and I all heaped praise upon her head and she seemed SO proud of herself that I thought surely this was the "clicking" moment I've heard such tell of. She was even making the connection between using the potty and Santa bringing her Dora big girl panties - not necessarily doing it, mind you, but making the connection. But alas, my attempts at repeating Monday's excitement have since been met with "I DON'T pee in the potty ANYMORE."

Lest I give the impression she is an incorrigible bossy britches (which at home she can tend to be lately) I should take a moment to brag about the "Good Manners Award" she brought home from preschool today. Mrs. Bell added a note that says "J always says thank you." I guess doing us proud out in the big wide world is all we can ask for.

And in other, queasier news, we are underway with month two of Project Baby #2. (I'm actually not counting month one as an ill-timed stomach virus ran rampant through our house and put a bit of a glitch in the schedule.) I'm trying not to get too excited over my sudden desparate need for ginger ale but I am keeping my fingers crossed. My sister has me convinced it's going to be exceedingly difficult for us to get pregnant - regardless of the fact that we got pregnant with J the very first time we tried. I realize secondary infertility is more common than people think, but I should also point out that she works in the fertility industry, so her sample set is a wee bit skewed.

Still... fingers crossed!