An Evening at the Improv

Parenting can sure keep you on your toes. We thought we were long past the days of poop squirting in every which direction. Don't ask me why. Arrogance perhaps? Complacency maybe? Regardless of the reason, an error was made...the diaper bag had long ago shed its spare outfit to make way for animal crackers, gold fish and any toy that stands a chance of capturing 2 minutes of toddler attention.

One Friday evening, we found ourselves dining with Jonie and Chris at The Palm (no, not the swanky steak house, we're talking about Las Palmas, home of fine Mexican cuisine). It was a lovely evening, good food, good company, good margaritas. Then, it happened. It started off innocently enough, a couple stomach gurgles, a few baby grunts, a couple more baby grunts, (a few mature adult chuckles), then, the big squirt. Yes, that squirt. The audible anal squirt is one of life's most ominous sounds. The squirt is capable of accelerating poop well beyond diaper escape velocity. Yes my friends, we broke containment, and not just a little; this was no shart. Somehow the angle and velocity combined to push the poop up the path of MOST resistance. None came up the back, instead it all came shooting out from the hips. How this is possible, I will never know, but I'm sure our little wonder isn't the first to achieve such greatness.

So, pop quiz. You're sitting in a restaurant with friends. You child is covered in crap. You're not equipped to clean you child. What do you do?

a) Order another margarita
b) Proceed to the car and ignore the crap transferred to you and to your car
c) Strip the baby down and wash it in the nasty bathroom sink and hope the "no shirt, no shoes" policy has an age minimum
d) Wrap it in a plastic bag, finish your dinner and head home

We chose D. In case you're wondering, a standard plastic grocery bag runs a tad larger than an 18M onsie.

E-I

Amelia's learned to sing. Her first performance was a stunning rendition of the chorus of "Old McDonald Had a Farm". A true singer makes a song her own and adds her own bit of style. For Amelia, that means omiting the O at the end of E-I-E-I-O. Look for her at the Nashville audition for Americal Idol 2007.

Holiday Pics

Thanksgiving


Christmas







Christmas party for the kids


Testing out the new potty

New Do

Now that we're rocking the recorder in the baby jam band, we needed to go a bit more punk with the hair.

Poor Santa Claus

Poor Santa Claus. We tried to take Amelia to visit him,

ONE (thanks Grandma Nette Nette and Grandpa Kip)



TWO





Yes, THREE TIMES, and yet she would have nothing to do with him!



Oh well, she's having fun hanging out with Mom, Dad and all her friends...who needs one of the superficial babies that's only in it for the toys!

We Have a Climber

Amelia has always been excited about her bath. She loves to watch the water fill up and push her toys into the tub one by one. The other night, during this routine I stepped out of the room for a minute to get out her PJs and other bedtime essentials. Not 30 seconds after leaving, I heard our little one start crying. Strange I thought, "this is always a happy time". It wasn't a pained cry, nor a tired or hungry cry. It wasn't even an "I'm tired and want to cling to Daddy" cry. This was a cry of shock and confusion, almost like "what just happened?". I scurried on into the bathroom to find that the rascal had somehow managed to climb into the tub and was already enjoying her bath-FULLY clothed! Looks like our child proofing might need to go vertical!