Not Too Seriously

For the most part, we don't take ourselves too seriously around here.  For the most part, we are all pretty good at laughing at ourselves.  Here's a perfect example.

Last night, I remembered a dream from the previous night, and I shared it with my daughter.  The dream was a little odd in that I had a mustache.  Yep.  I looked in the mirror and there it was.  In the dream, it wasn't at all strange to me that I had a mustache... only that it was quite raggedy and uneven.  I was in a quandary about how to best even it up.  Do you trim it to match up with the top or the bottom of your lip, I wondered.

At this point in my explanation to my daughter, she held up her hand and amid hysterical laughter said, "Wait, wait!  Mom, you didn't think maybe you should just SHAVE?"

LAUGHING OUT LOUD, LOUDLY.

Nope.  That idea never crossed my mind.

See what I mean?

Not too seriously.

It's Like Riding a Bicycle...

Remember THIS POST where I mentioned that we were having a little friend come to visit?

Well -- IT. WAS. AWESOME.

He came in like he owned the place, and within the first five seconds, found the teddy bear that I'd put out for him.  He willingly said goodbye to Mommy & Daddy.  No big deal.

We played.  He investigated the house, turning questioning eyes on me when he wanted to check something out.  There were only a couple things that I had to lay down the law on... like him picking up the little weights that I use when I walk [away the pounds], and dropping them.  Ummmm, NO!  We put that to an end before little toes got smashed.

He brought his own kitchen toys, and so, "cooked" at my feet while I made him mac-n-cheese for lunch.

He "talked to Mom" on his pretend phone, and then I got to "talk to her" too!

We put a chair cushion on a kitchen chair so that he was sitting higher for lunch, and he ate like a champ.

Shortly after lunch, it was naptime... meaning: the pack-n-play in my room.  Story first, read by my girl -- who was equally tickled to have the little guy here.  Then, shade pulled.  Familiar blankies.  And knowing his "code word" for blankie, too!  I stood at the top of the stairs listening to the movements behind the almost-closed door.  It only took about 3 minutes, and there was stillness.  I waited for a little voice to call,.. but nothing.

Two hours later, I knew that Mommy would return shortly, so I went up to wake the little man.  I called his name gently, reminding him that he was at Sally's house.  I expected a bit of a fuss upon waking -- you know how that can be.  I didn't know if he'd remember where he was.  But, no biggie.

We came downstairs and played with his trains as had been promised before naptime.  All in all, it went so smoothly, and way too fast!  Mommy was back before we knew it.

Though I care for these sweet little ones at church, I haven't had little ones in my home in a long time.  Even the nieces and nephews are grown up.  Age-appropriate toys are mostly gone -- and all of the important tools (high chair, crib) are long gone.  So, I wasn't really sure how it would go, but...

It's just like riding a bicycle!

This is one of my favorite pictures... the little guy on my couch, feet crossed, looking at pictures of himself on my iPod.
Sign of the times... and those crossed feet?  A clue to his comfort?  Precious!