Pictures Really Do Tell the Story

There are times when I walk into daycare and really, really wish I had a camera handy. For example, every time that I have ever picked Alexis up during nap time. I quite simply cannot wrap my brain around the fact that they get 20 one, two, and three-year olds to nap simultaneously AND for more than ten minutes. A photo of that would allow me to stare at the image over and over, as if I were admiring one of the seven wonders of the world. That is certainly one of the wonders of my world.

Other times it's OK that I don't whip the camera out because the image of what I see is permanently seared into my brain. The time I walked in on Barbie time immediately comes to mind. There were at least 30 naked Barbie dolls laying in a pile, many of them decapitated or missing a limb. Their clothes were scattered over a four-mile perimeter. It seemed the toddlers were taunting the naked Barbies with thoughts of being fully dressed. One toddler would start to put an article of clothing on a Barbie and another toddler would grab that Barbie from her current keeper, causing some sort of dismemberment. Then the second toddler would start to dress Barbie, only to have a third toddler come along and rip Barbie away. The end result is an image I won't soon forget--a pile of vacant-eyed, skinny, blond, dismembered, naked dolls with permanent smiles affixed to their faces.

Then there are the times when I walk in and am immediately told, "You have to see this picture." Camera phones are a handy invention. Last week a camera phone provided the evidence I needed to see that Alexis has taken her pleas for a brother or sister public. Behold Exhibit A:

Now, I can already hear Grandmas and Grandpas across the country saying, "Well, give the girl what she wants. Bring on more Grandbabies!" Let's get one thing straight right this second. No. No. No. and No. I am not so far gone from those many months of pregnancy misery to have forgotten just how miserable I was. Also, I am 100% aware of the fact that nobody gets this lucky twice. Alexis is undoubtedly an "easy" child. That won't happen again. I imagine that our next child (should there ever be one--a very, very long time from now) will be the polar opposite of Alexis. That thought alone is enough to make me start looking for the best bridge to launch myself from that will almost certainly guarantee an escape from the horrors of a less-cooperative child.

So Alexis has been not-so-subtly hinting at her desire to have a baby in the house. Her current strategy is to demonstrate just how helpful she could be. She carries her dolls around all over the house, giving them bottles to drink, changing their diapers (well, sort of--usually they just end up naked), giving them lots of hugs and kisses, pushing them in the stroller, and even feeding them.

Even I will admit, it's a pretty good strategy. But it ain't gonna' work. So Alexis, please focus your energies elsewhere. You can have all the babies you want in about 30 years.


Just the Two of Them

Last night I went out with some friends from work and left Daddy and Alexis to fend for themselves. Alone. Together. Alexis and Daddy. The truly earth-shattering result of the evening was that nothing happened. Seriously--nothing. I didn't get 37 phone calls, the police weren't on the front lawn, there were no holes in the walls, it didn't look like the fridge threw up all over the house, and everyone was still alive. Amazing.

Any other time that I have left those two alone together, the result has been less than spectacular. The very first time was when Alexis was probably two months old. I had the audacity to decide that four months was long enough and I needed to get a haircut. While I was at it, I thought I would throw in some highlights. I only ventured about two miles from our house but yet I didn't even make it out of the car before the first call. The gist of it was something along the lines of, "Come back now." There was much screaming and crying and Alexis wasn't very happy either. I decided it was time for the home team to man up and went through with the two hours of vanity. I stopped counting the calls at five and stopped answering them after ten. When I got home, I vaguely remember hearing a whole lot of complaining and many threats of "You're never leaving us alone again."

Daddy, you've come a long way since that fateful day. Well done, well done.


Where's Dora

Obviously, Dora long ago took over several aisles in Toys 'R Us. It's probably not so much that she's popular as it is that none of the other toys want to be near this freaky thing:

This has got to be the largest Dora in existence. She obviously has developed sort of condition that causes her head to look like it belongs on Barry Bonds' body.