The Yogurt

I am sick. It's official. And, of course, its on the night that my husband is working late.

For some reason Zachary wants to eat lots of ice cubes today. I can't figure out why, but he just keeps asking for them. Maybe he thinks it's the next best thing to a Popsicle, of which we have none. He also wants to watch "Serious George." Normally we tape most of his shows, but that is one that we haven't set up yet. I remember being young and thinking about how cool it would be if you could rewind your favorite show or stop it and watch it anytime you wanted to. At this point my son is convinced that PBS is Clifford on demand.

Elaina is sleeping, as usual. Eight months old and still a toothless wonder. She does love to eat though. Last night was her first try with beans. They were a hit. Needless to say, both of the hooligans ended up in the bath, covered in pintos. She didn't eat too much because Zachary took it upon himself to feed her an entire yogurt about an hour before dinner...while she was in her walker. Yogurt here, there and everywhere, but mostly on Elaina. She was covered. Zachary told me, "She missed a little" but that he did it all by himself. "Nayna is hungry, she is eating her dinners." She was as happy as can be, smacking her gums with every spoonful. She wasn't too happy, however, when it was gone.

Well, Mr. Man is helping himself to the freezer, so I'd better run. Chat soon.