Water Babies, Crackers, and Play-Dough Balls

I have things I want to tell you all, but they are all disjointed and unrelated, so I'm going to pull a Raechel and list them out. Hope that's okay. If not, feel free to wander away. (Although I love you, really I do!)

• First off, enjoy this short video of my funny kids:

(Things to know about this video: Both boys are on their tummies, pretending to be mermaids. They refuse to be mermen; they are mermaids, "like Ariel." Baby C is making everyone laugh because she is pouring water out of a purple cup. And what B says to the camera is something along the lines of "I'm so funny with Baby C and J.")

• I haven't knitted in a week or so, mainly because the project I started is now stalled (blah, blah, the details are boring, I assure you.) BUT. I have busted out the sewing machine again, with magnificent results. You may recall that my mother's on-loan ancient (seriously, like 35 years old?) Singer is on the fritz; my friend Gina graciously lent me hers, and I have been using it quite a bit this past week. And I'm so excited to share my big completed project with you. I really am. But it's a present, and I'd like to actually gift it to the giftee before posting about it here. SO. This bullet was kind of a let-down. I'm sorry.

• I found a shower curtain for our bathroom for $5. I KNOW. You can feel free to hate me a little bit. Just know that I love you very much. Let that weigh on your conscience.

• I like the following political cartoon, and I will let it speak for itself:

• I'm kind of obsessed with Mary's Gone Crackers. They taste like human bird food, and I just can't stop eating them.

• Really funny story: The Professor and I had agreed to forgo Valentine's gifts for one another since we've spent so much money on our bathroom. (And also since Valentine's Day is slightly JUST SLIGHTLY overrated.) But I ignored the agreement and got him a few little somethings, including an amazing Vespa coffee mug which I promptly claimed as my own. When he saw these things Sunday morning, he thanked me and then apologetically said, "I'm so sorry, but your gift won't be in until tomorrow." (He thought he was being all smooth and lie-y, but I was immediately suspicious.) Sure enough, Monday mid-morning he shows up at home carrying a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers. He grinned sheepishly and admitted that he hadn't gotten me anything at all--he had taken our agreement to heart, as it were. Hey, I'm not complaining. I still got a box of chocolates.

• I most certainly have not eaten all of those chocolates already.

• Speaking of not eating an entire box of chocolates, I've been working hard (well, hard for me, anyway) to lose babybabybaby weight, and I've noticed small victories and all that. In the meantime, my woefully sad wardrobe has suffered, since I haven't replenished or updated it in a loooong time. You know the routine: why buy new clothes, even cheap ones, that fit now if I'm going to lose weight? Because you know I will. Uh-huh. Well, picture the scene last Thursday, when my friend Katie pointed out a fantastic rip in the butt of my corduroy pants. This was the second pair of paints to tear in less than two weeks. AND my third (and final!) pair of pants developed a hole in the knee just last night. (Feel free to shake your head at my ridiculously meager wardrobe. It's okay. I realize how pathetic it is. But please remember that I'm a stay-at-home mom who chooses to spend her stretched budget on, say, the kids' clothes. Or hospital bills. Or organic, gluten-free bird seed crackers.) The final straw occurred this morning, when my husband confronted me on my return from a grocery shopping trip. He had been folding laundry, and he said, "Christine, we are getting you new clothes next budget. Yours are pathetic and quite literally falling apart. They are full of holes." You know it's bad when your husband demands that you buy new clothes. And I am a little embarrassed by this.

• While the Western Church is celebrating Fat Tuesday today, the Eastern Church has already begun Lent. (This year and next the Orthodox Easter (Pascha) and the Western Easter are on the same day.) I am so excited! I know that, technically, Lent is supposed to be a serious time, a grave time, a time of fasting and abstinence and dwelling on Christ's sacrifice, but really, I love it. I love the Orthodox emphasis on Easter. I love the anticipation. I love the challenge of our fasting and abstaining. (Ask me about that in another month. Beans can only keep me excited for so long.) So. Excited.

• Our children are feeling 100% better, thank you. It's amazing what a difference feeling well can do to our attitudes and our levels of patience with one another. Right now I'm just enjoying my kids and my home and trying not to go stir-crazy with this cold, snowy, unending winter.

• I know it's only February, and I live in Illinois, so I can't really complain about winter yet. But seriously. I'm done with it.

• While B continues his obsession with The America Puzzle (we all say it like that, like it has an official, trademarked title), J has recently discovered the joys of Play-Dough. We've had some for awhile, but no one ever showed an interest, so I hadn't brought it out recently. My mom got some for the boys as a Valentine's gift, and I guess her timing was perfect. J cannot stop talking about his Play-Dough. He gets out as many colors as I will allow, asks me to help him shape them into balls, and then goes to town. He carries said Play-Dough balls around like little friends. He flattens them on the table and cuts out shapes with cookie cutters. He cries when I put his "balls" away, and he won't stop talking about his Play-Dough until I relent and get it back out again. We seem to be a rather obsessive family.

• My sister the goddess is in week 34 (I think? Possibly 35?) of her pregnancy, and THE EXCITEMENT, IT NEVER ENDS!! She's pretty uncomfortable at this point in time, and she has a high-stress job, so the poor thing is usually rather pooped. She and her husband are as yet uncertain about their future (he graduates this May, and from there...?), which only adds to the stress, but the thing that I like to dwell on is the prize: A SWEET BABY GIRL OH MY WORD SHE'S GOING TO BE HERE.

• I'm pretty certain that I'm very ready for a baby and that Baby Cecilia is coming at a perfect time. For reasons I don't need to discuss on the blog (at least not yet), The Professor and I aren't planning on another baby of our own anytime soon. This decision (and subsequent decisions based on said baby decision, and am I being vague enough? Good.) makes perfect sense in my head, but in my heart, a loud little voice is screaming BABYBABYBABYBABYBABY (LALALA) BABYBABYBABY. This voice is very loud, and it is evidently in direct control of my tear ducts, because I burst into quiet sobs today at the grocery store, right near the applesauce, when I caught a glimpse of a beautiful little newborn boy.

• I'm serious. I cried. In the grocery store. Because I saw a baby.

• I never cry. And I normally dislike (or am at least indifferent toward) other people's children.

• Do you think Candice will mind if I steal her daughter?

Aaannnd on that emotionally unsettling note, I think that's it for updates. Take care of yourself and snuggle down during this unusually snowy season. (Well, not too unusual for us, at least.) Pick up some Mary's Gone Crackers (original) next time you're out. I promise, you won't regret it.

And if you see me around town, perhaps you might pass me a hanky or even a gently used pair of pants. I'd surely appreciate it.