Happier still, Mr. Whiarton Willy failed to see his shadow today. All I can say is, he better be right!
Now then, on to this week's love-hates!!
Our first inductee...
Judah's hand talking. I love this. As far as I know there was no Italian blood in this family until Judah came along. Want me to prove it to you? Come over the day the flyers are delivered. Judah will find each and every picture of pizza and bring it to you so he can exclaim, "MMMM!!!"... and wave his arms.
My first hate...Judah's new acrobatic routine. He loves to climb up to the highest point acheivable. It stops my heart. Today he gestured that he wanted me to put him up on the top of the bookcase.
I love these two first thing in the morning, when they still have their sleepy faces and hair.
Luke looks wrecked, but still so loveable and Judah is rocking the fake smile and bedhead. What's not to love right?
This one gets the special distinction of three hates in one. In case you didn't catch on right away, this is a picture of our toilet bowl. First off I hate the rust/moon rock residue in the bottom. It won't be scrubbed off. I even tried leaving Tang in the toilet overnight. It didn't do anything. Thanks Home Depot woman...
The second hate related to this lovely beast is the fact that Judah clogs it on a weekly basis...and he's not even potty trained. I'll leave the rest to your imagination.
My third hate for this one: all those nice grey lines, otherwise known as the permanent etchings of steel on ceramic. This is what happens when you don't own a plunger (crazy, I know) and your handy husband uses one of your serving spoons to break up one of your son's clogs.
Love! We took the side rail of Judah's crib down tonight. He is now officially in a big boy bed. Never mind the fact that it's only about 5 inches off the floor, he totally LOVES it!!! He climbed on and off about 40 times in the first 10 minutes.
Then, when it was time to sleep we read books while I snuggled with him - in his own bed!
I fully expect to hear a thud sometime soon...but so far, so good.
The last hate of the evening- my first Judah-induced, mother war wound.
Yes...that tiny mark on my collarbone... I know, it's just a flesh wound, but it still hurt. I'm boney people!
Anyway, shortly before we sat down for supper, Judah, who had been stirring the butter chicken, got suddenly angry and had a big tantrum - flailing his metal spoon accordingly. I, who was holding him at the time, ended up in the line of fire.
a.) I hate how much it hurt
b.) I hate even more how instantly angry I felt with him.
I had never felt a flare up of anger like that towards him before.
It only lasted for a few seconds, but it wasn't cool.
Thankfully, we were able to put it behind us and hug it out momentarily.
It reminded me how not in control I really am. Sometimes I look at Judah and smile self-righteously at the volatility of his moods. Then he hits me with a kitchen implement and I'm ready to have a throw- my- toys, screaming tantrum of my own.
Oh, the enlightenment that comes from being a parent.