Happy 3rd Birthday, Stinkerbutt!

It turns my brain upside down to think that this kid ...

... is now 3 freakin' years old. What a merry chase she has led us! I can't wait to see where you take us next, Sweet Libs.

This-n-That

Libby and Mommy had a date yesterday and went to see "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs." My God, was that movie ever horrible! It was so bad that even Libby did not like it. Pure dreck. Nice to spend some time with my little monkey, though. We had a ball together!

As for Emma, she and Daddy had fun together at the farmer's market and Old McDonald's. Speaking of her Emma-nence, Emma is not crazy about getting her picture taken. This is why we have so few good photos of her. I thought these pix, though, really show her gorgeous smile -- both the little one and the big one.

More photos for ya:

Cheese-dog! Doesn't she look like a dork here?

Libby had a weird mystery fever one day, and we had to cloister ourselves at home. We had a tea party to keep our (OK, my -- I'm not ready for flu season!) spirits up.

Hard Lessons

Both girls have learned hard lessons this weekend.

It began with Libby yesterday morning. Our first-floor neighbors have several trailing plants from their deck planters. We were playing on the sidewalk below their deck, and Libby decided to try to swing on the "vines" (a la Dora). Needless to say, it didn't work. Note to all of Libby's blog readers: TV apparently is NOT grounded in reality. Who knew?

To make the lesson even more painful, she was trying to swing over a sunken section about three steps down. She was fine, but she scared the poo out of me when I saw her falling down into the pit. There she landed, surrounded by broken leaves and other bits of plant. Poor thing. (Kim, I keep flashing to the "swimming pool" you made out of Mom and Dad's shower. I'm sure Libby had just as clear a mental image of her swinging as you did of paddling around in your pool.)

Then it was Emma's turn for a typical childhood lesson. She and Libby were playing "go to work" at our back door. They both stand by the screen door, and Libby shuts the back door so I can't see them. I have long known this would end in tragedy, but what're ya gonna do? After months of this beloved game, Emma finally forgot to keep her fingers out of the door crack. Smash! (Poor thing really got it, too. It's nice and purpley.)

Our brave Emma has managed to soldier on and only mentions it five or six times an hour. It requires constant visits from our boo-boo fish (an ice pack), several Band-aids, lots of kisses from Libby, and -- mysteriously -- occasional bites from Emma herself. ("Eat boo-boo." I don't know what the heck that's about.)

Emma's the biggest chicken you ever saw and is terrified of slides at the park. This eensy-weensy slide at Libby's preschool is the only one she enjoys. Who cares that it's shorter than she is?

Libby on her first day of school sans Mom and Dad. The teacher told me the other day that she asked Libby if she was drawing an apple (they're studying apples right now). "No," Libby said. "I'm taking notes." Ahhhh. Already a little nerd. I love it.

Overheard

Emma just put a little jar into a bigger one, looked up at me and said, "Oh my gotch. Look." Hilarious.

Even more funny? I swear she sang this last night while I was changing her diaper (sung to the tune of "I Want a Dog," which should explain the third line of her invented song lest you think she has some gender identity issues):

Daddy has penis.

Daddy has penis.

I want a penis.

I want a penis.

Vagina!

It was a little garbled, but I'm pretty sure these were the song's words. Honest to Gotch.

A Coupla Pix

Emma must have sensed that I finally sat down to post a new entry and get Aunt Kimmy off my back because she just woke up and started to cry. Sigh. Such is parenthood.

Enjoy the pictures, sans cute stories about my kids. But expect cute stories to come soon. (Or not. You know me!)