Stools

For the past several days, I have noticed an odor on the upper level of our home. At first, I thought it might be a towel I used to sop up some spilled milk. I washed it four times. The smell seemed to go away...but then I'd notice it again. I chucked the towel. The smell lingered.

Next, I started thinking that it might be a stinkbug. Stinkbugs have invaded Loudoun County, and I've noticed a couple have made their way into the house. Each time I would get a whiff of this odor, I just chalked it up to a stinkbug who met an untimely demise somewhere near my laundry room.

Tonight, I took Hadley a pacifier while Chad was tucking her in; and there it was again! It was so strong that I immediately started looking for the stinkbug. What I found...was Hadley's step stool, sitting next to her window. At this point, I should probably add that Hadley's step stool is the Fisher Price Step Stool Potty on which she originally potty-trained. She now uses it to reach various light switches throughout the upper level of our home. Apparently, though, she used it for poo sometime over the weekend. That stool in the stool has since traveled from the bathroom to the hall to the bedroom and heaven knows where else. Rest assured that it went on its final journey--down the toilet--immediately upon discovery. The pink princess stool (the one made of plastic) is now disinfected and safely tucked away in a place Stinkerbell hopefully will never discover.

Cereal Charmer

Danielle: "Thatcher, would you like a bowl of cereal?"
Thatcher: "Yes! It is so nice to be asked!"

Budding Romantic

Thatcher picked his first flower for a girl today. He picked a dandelion for Avery, the seven year-old girl who moved in two doors down over the summer. Like his daddy, he goes for older women. He was a bit nervous about walking it up to her door, but he did it! I probably won't find this nearly as cute when he is sixteen.

Midnight Snack

Harrison woke from a sound sleep at 8:30 tonight. He was hysterical, so I figured he was having teething issues. I brought him downstairs to give him a hefty dose of Motrin when he noticed the Morning Glory muffins I had just baked for the first day of school tomorrow. He lunged, grabbed one, and crammed it into his mouth. After he downed that one, he polished off another before I finally just put him in the high chair with his THIRD muffin. He ate a bit of it; and then this happened:

Mommy Meals

Tonight's menu consisted of fontina cheese eggs and a vodka tonic. That pretty much says it all.

PS - The kids had waffles with strawberries rather than the vodka tonic.

"There is No Basement in the Alamo"

Harrison and I just returned from a lovely trip to San Antonio to visit his "Tia Xandra," who is getting married in five months. Each of the children has taken a big trip around this age. Thatcher lucked out and went to Venice at nine months. That's the privilege of the firstborn. Harrison and Hadley--who accompanied me to the MOPS convention in Dallas when she was eight months--were stuck with sweltering Texas.

Harrison was a dream traveler. He drifted off to sleep as we were taking off, slept the entire flight, and woke up to eat as we started to descend. It was unbelievable. He made an appearance at each of San Antonio's major bridal boutiques (throwing up ALL over me in the middle of Julian Gold) and even tried on a mantilla. He also has now has seen more than his fair share of bridal bouquets and could probably arrange one himself. He even helped search for the perfect wedding invitation in between trying on various pimp, sheriff, and cowboy hats (photos forthcoming). In addition to his usual fare, he dined on Mexican beans and rice while on San Antonio's famous Riverwalk. Best of all, he got a new toy, a Fisher Price hauling truck that lights up and plays music, that he didn't have to share with anyone! Well, he didn't have to share until we came home and Thatcher and Hadley made a beeline for it.

With all the wedding planning, we never made it to the Alamo. We'll save that for when we head back with the rest of the family in December. Harrison and I will be able to show them the ropes, teach them about San Antonio's funky "turnarounds," and show them all the Starbucks we mapped throughout the city. Perhaps by then, there will be a "basement in the Alamo" for us to check out as well.

Go Fish

Chad: "Thatcher, would you like for daddy to teach you how to fish?"
Thatcher: "Yes, but I want to fish like the fish stick workers do."