Sad zoo

We took Lyla to the Como Zoo today, otherwise known as the sad zoo. Don't worry, we didn't take any pictures of the animals in their tiny cages.






It was a good day--for us, not for the polar bears lying in the grass.

Rooster

Lori and my mom came over to babysit tonight. Due to some weirdness in the cosmos or something, they were able to keep Lyla entertained until 7:30. After a week of waking up early and going to daycare, we would've pulled the plug by about 6:05. And of course that would've resulted in a pre-6:00 Saturday wake-up, naturally my Lyla duty day.

So now at least I have a fighting shot at out-sleeping a rooster.

***Update***

Cock-a-freaking-doodle-doo.

Deese = ?

Lyla was nice enough to help me unpack the groceries. True, we weren't technically in the house yet. Details, details.

As Lyla adjusts to waking up at 6:20 for school, she is much more likely to be a blubbering mess during our afternoon commute. Yesterday I couldn't figure out what she was saying, and it drove both of us insane.

"Deese!"

"Do you want some cheese when we get home?" We stopped at a red light.

"No. No deese." It turned green. "Deese. Deese!"

"Are you saying geese?"

"Yeah."

"You know what geese are?"

"Yeah."

"The big birds, right? Like ducks?"

"No ducks! No ducks! Deese!"

"Are geese birds?"

"No. DEESE! WAAAAAH!"

"Okay, settle down. Are you saying geese?"

"NO! DEESE!"

"Lyla, do you--"

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"Are you asking for my keys?"

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"We'll get some cheese at home."

"NO DEESE!"

Bedtime at 6:15 ultimately did the trick. I still don't know what she was saying. Come to think of it, maybe she saw some trees.

Fork technique

Lyla's fork technique is a little odd.




Why would you fork a strawberry and then de-fork it before eating it? That's forked up.

I'm pretty sure it's a major daycare infraction to not use your fork. Several weeks ago I witnessed a teacher take the cereal away from a girl who insisted on a finger approach. It appears that Lyla errs on the side of caution, a trait that should hopefully get her through puberty unscathed.

Renaissance man

Lyla was a cranky pile of baby-rage this evening. Luckily, you can always improve morale at least temporarily by asking her if she has any chicken in her shirt.

Yes, you read that right.




Meanwhile, Julie's mom called to report that she purchased the entire contents of a Western Wisconsin Baby Gap. Grandma is nesting. She says that our young man's wardrobe will reveal him to be a nautical cowboy with a sports obsession.

My boy's already a renaissance man.

Binky snipping

We're trying to decide the best time to kick Lyla's binky habit. For almost a year she's only used them at bedtime and naptime, but we haven't been cruel overbearing parents in awhile and we think this might be the next cool way to mess with her emotional well-being.

She's also changing rooms at daycare when she turns two. In this new room there are toilets and children who ride bikes and pay their parents rent. We don't know if there are binkies. Binky is probably a swear word, resulting in corner time or a stint in the kitchen peeling potatoes.

So we're thinking of doing what our friends did: gradually snip off the suck part of the binky over a four-day span. Their young man concluded this: "Binky boken!" He hasn't asked about them since.

I guess one concern is that we'll create a thumb sucker and then need to Tabasco her thumbs.

Teepees and backpack leashes

Somehow, Lyla continues to survive without us.

Until we found out that Julie has a baby boy fetus living inside her, I didn't care one way or another about baby boys. Yeah, they're cool and all, I'd think to myself, but a little disgusting compared to baby girls, who are of course inherently cute and wonderful.

Our friends, parents of William, who I featured in a post several months ago, recently birthed a Henry. This evening at the wedding reception, we managed to snag him for a bit.


And you know, by holding Henry I was sort of able to visualize having a young man in the house. They're basically the same as baby girls, except they're more likely to fountain-piss on you during diaper changes. And they sell little wiener hats for that: peepee teepees, I think they're called, which is either awesome or representative of everything that's wrong with the world, I can't decide which.

And speaking of everything that's wrong with the world, you know those parents who make their kids wear backpacks with leashes attached? Where do people get off judging those parents?