Memorial Day weekend was fabulous, as we spent it with a lot of family and friends, but it also required a lot of traveling. Brady, thankfully, was a happy traveler and that made life a bit easier. However, each time we put him in his car seat, we noticed it was more and more difficult to strap him in. We blamed this on various things: his clothing was caught, he was hot and therefore bloated (!), he was slouching, etc. Not until today (Thursday) did Zach or I recognize that we need to change the position of the seat belts to accommodate our son's height which is apparently doubling weekly. We feel bad that Brady has been so cramped, but good old fashioned trial and error--and some ridiculous parenting--arrived at the solution!
Despite Zach and I being Morons of the Year, Brady has still managed to hit another milestone: holding his own cup...finally! We were eating dinner the other night and I asked Zach to give Brady a sip of juice. I explained that he would have to hold the cup because Brady refuses to do it himself. Zach looked at me like I was an idiot, put the cup on Brady's tray and said, "Here, drink this." And Brady drank it. Just like that. The picture below illustrates Brady's pride and the fact that he's been holding out on me for quite some time. My mother always said boys were bad news...
Yesterday brought some nasty weather and unfortunately for my family, I'm a real psycho when it comes to summer storms. In my mind, a little bit of wind and a dark sky = a tornado every time. Except last night there were actually weather warnings and sightings of "cyclone winds," so I was pretty much having a nervous breakdown. I forced Zach to call his grandma who has a scanner and ask her to let us know if she heard anything. I'm not sure what I expected exactly; someone to spot Dorothy in a funnel cloud? I was glued to the Weather Channel and almost soiled myself when an alert for people living in Pittsburgh were told to take cover. Did you know there is a Pittsburg(h) in Kentucky? I did not. Anyway, I've been asking for a storm cellar, but Zach insists it's not necessary. So until I win and he digs out part of our back yard and stocks it with water and other non-perishables, we'll be huddled underneath tables and chairs in the basement. I'm off topic...
We had run a few errands and then Zach wanted "Wednesday ice cream," but before we made our way to the Ice Cream Pump (and before we heard the weather warnings on the radio), we came across a stopped car with their flashers on. A couple was standing on the side of the road looking into a ditch, so we slowed to see if they needed help. When they told us they were trying to rescue baby raccoons whose mother had been hit, I was ON IT! At this point I should remind those of you who may have forgotten or who never knew about the Raccoon Tragedy of 2006: My best gal pal/maid of honor and I were doing my wedding invitations when we looked out the front door and saw a rabid raccoon swinging from trees on the streets of Vandergrift. I, of course, called 911 because, you know, that was the logical thing to do. We then watched as two EMTs tried to coax the raccoon out of the tree, but the poor thing swung itself out and broke its back on the sidewalk. We went inside before we saw any more. AWFUL. So yesterday was my day to redeem myself in the raccoon community. I hopped out of the car (leaving my husband and son humiliated inside) and offered whatever I could find to help scoop the babies to safety. Turns out my trusty softball glove was still in my car and that did the trick! I attempted to direct traffic as the people transferred the raccoons to their car, and even though not one car listened to me, I felt good about a job well done. Zach now calls me the Raccoon Whisperer.
Not too many pics from the weekend, even though I had intended to make a lot more. Brady was in his must-be-in-mom's-arms phase, so I spent the majority of my weekend sweating or playing with his shape sorter. That's okay by me, though; in a few years he won't want to be seen anywhere near me!!
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