11.28.2010 (sunday.)

Tentens woke up four times last night. - Bummer.

When we were "officially" up for the morning at 7:30, Kort wanted to play Mario Kart. I said that was fine, changed Tennyson's diaper, and took him into the living room. I decided to try sitting him next to Kort while I pulled together some sort of breakfast, and you know what? Worked like a charm! Tennyson seemed quite excited to be part of the "big boy" club! And right before my very eyes, one of Kort's fondest dreams was coming true. (A live-in guest who quietly watches him play video games. Never asking for a turn, never telling him what to do, just watching {and admiring} him politely from the sidelines.) Dreams really do come true, folks. You heard it here first.

{I JUST LOVE THE VARYING DEGREES OF CONCENTRATION ON KORT'S FACE WHILE TENNYSON IS MUGGING IT FOR THE CAMERA. I ALSO LOVE HOW TENNYSON WOULD REACH OVER AND TOUCH BUTTONS ON THE CONTROLLER AND KORT DIDN'T MIND ONE BIT.}

Nothing sounds good today. I've tried a fried egg sandwich, and CPK's frozen margarita pizza, and freshly baked biscuits and... well, you name it. Wish it meant something crazy like I am pregnant or something, but it more likely just means that it's cold, snowy, and my body is on junk food overload. boo.

Today I am thankful for friends. I blog-stalked the better part of the morning away, and I don't know about you, but I love all of the gratitude posts that flood the Blogosphere this time of year. This friend in particular had some lovely things to say. And her fantastic photography is just icing on the cake. I spent the entire morning reading all of her posts for November. Every single one. She just sucked me right in with her beautiful, sincere musings about all of the blessings in her life. I admire her ability to write things so concisely. I am as wordy as the day is long, and she is like a poet. A speedy fast one with super great thoughts to boot. I find myself having to slow down and think upon what she has written in order to understand the deeper meanings. I just really like her. I think everyone who knows her does...and everyone who doesn't know her would...you know, like, if they knew her.

I went into the bathroom this afternoon and found that, during the course of his 2 + hour bath this morning, Kortland had taken it upon himself to organize his bath toys in groups according to color.

black toys, green toys

red toys


white toys


toys with silvery accents


pink toys


multi-colored misfit toys that can't fit into any one category
{this is the category I like to think we all belong to.}

I love his baths.

I love to hear him singing, and talking to himself, and playing made up games, and telling stories with characters made up of the different toy categories seen above. I love the tile-wall paintings that always have an "I love you" just for mom running across the top of them. I love prune-y fingers, and soggy bath mats, and the very, very fleeting smell of a very, very clean little boy.

Every time I ask him to wrap things up and get out of the tub, he claims that he can't wash his own hair or dry himself off all by himself. Every. Time. (And to both of these claims I call b.s. and make him do it anyway under the threat of a disappearing wii gaming system...and suddenly, he remembers how. It's like magic, I tell ya.)

Tonight, while I nursed Tennyson, Kort stretched out across the foot of my bed and read to us from the most delightful selection: "The Incredible Book Eating Boy" then, when I told him to hop into bed, he insisted that he was starving. (Oi.) So, after a lengthy lecture about eating his dinner DURING dinner, and NOT claiming starvation 10 full minutes past his bedtime, Dad took him into the dining room and gave him some leftovers. I know that parents "back in the d-zay" would have made him go to bed hungry...and part of me really wanted to, because this gig is getting old... but, *sigh* I couldn't.

Maybe it's because I am just too tired to fight that sort of battle right now.

Maybe it's because he is such a sweet boy, and he's only seven, and I know he is really trying, and I want to cut him some slack.

Maybe it's because I don't want to add to the ever-growing number of children in the world who go to bed hungry.

Maybe it's all of those things.
hm.