Why I haven't bought a DSLR camera yet

Probably because I'm too lazy to carry around my point and shoot. And so I end up taking all my pictures on my cell phone, which doesn't really make for very good blogging.

Yesterday, we were rushing to catch a train and one of Evelyn's new 3-for-a-dollar plastic shovels from Target accidentally fell between the train car and the platform edge. Onto the tracks. It was very traumatic. When I explained that we cannot get things off the tracks because it is very dangerous, she started crying and telling me she wanted to go back to Target and get another one. I felt so sad for her. She's never had her own bucket and shovel before, and she was so excited to play with it; we hadn't had a chance to go to the playground since buying it Monday. John had trouble sympathizing, so I told him to think of how I felt when my Kindle was lost/taken or how he felt when he lost his Ipod Touch (yeah, it's been a rough go over here for the past couple of months). After all, she doesn't really understand that she shouldn't be that upset since it was only worth about 33 cents.



Playing in the sandbox with the other shovels today seemed to ease some of her pain.

On the same Target trip, I bought a cheap $10 purse to theoretically use instead of the $2 Lehman grocery bag I've been carrying around for months now. My mom will no longer have to be embarrassed to be seen in public with me.

(Last time she was here, we had this conversation multiple times:
Emma: Have you seen my purse
Mom: No, have you had it? When did you last use it? The pink one?
Emma: No, the Lehman one.
Mom, disdainfully: You mean, THAT bag?)

I think I may not be getting much use out of it myself, though, as another family member has apparently requisitioned it for her own purposes.

And here we are, back to the original problem. Camera phone pictures make for terrible blogging. Especially camera phone pictures taken of a moving subject on a moving subway car.

Wee, wee, wee all the way home

Lately, it's starting to feel like a confused nursery rhyme over here. Our friends are dispersing faster than we can say good-bye. This little piggy went to California, this little piggy went to Las Vegas, this one to Connecticut, this one to Illinois, etc, etc, etc.

Well, I am happy to say that THESE little piggies are (eventually) going wee, wee, wee all the way home. That's right. Tuesday, we became officially APPROVED to buy our new apartment!

John has been celebrating ever since. Never one to miss an opportunity to spoil the moment, I have instead spent my time biting my fingernails and stress eating while trying to schedule closing and renovation work. My current dilemma? In honor of Earth day, a new EPA rule takes effect today that now requires all contractors doing paint-related work in pre-1978 buildings to have special federally issued lead licenses, separate and apart from their trade licenses.

Our new building is not one to let these things slide. As a result, the contractor I'd been planning on working with---who I've worked with before, who I really like, and who is already poised to do the work we need done at a reasonable price---turns out I probably will not be able to use him after all. The building gave me a list of three people who are EPA lead certified. Two of them are giving me estimates over the next few days. Hopefully one of the estimates will be somewhat reasonable. Maybe one will be lower? And the guy will do an even better job! It could happen, right?

Nonnegotiable

When we were young, my sisters and I used to love giving Dad "a perm." This mostly involved dotting his head with lots of little barrette-ponytails.

He actually loved it because he could lay on the floor and doze off while getting credit for playing with us.

I have never mentioned this tradition to Evelyn.

A few days ago, Evelyn emptied out all her hairbows, put them into a ziplock bag, and insisted on carrying them around all day. All afternoon, she told me that she was going to put hairbows in Daddy's hair so he could be a princess. I offered to submit to hairbow-pinning and be a princess. Several times. I was rebuffed. Evelyn only wanted to put hairbows on Daddy.

When John came home, she told him about her plan, and he said no. Daddies are not princesses, he said. The nerve!

I told him it was nonnegotiable. There are some things you just have to accept, some things that come with the territory of being dad to a little girl.

32 weeks in all its glory

These are actually from last Sunday. You're welcome, Cindi. If it weren't for you, I would have happily refused to create an photographic record of myself pregnant with #2. I mean, I documented it last time right? And really, it's just the same basic idea but with more weight gain the second time around.

I think pregnancy is getting the best of me

A couple weeks ago, I bought Evelyn her first set of markers. Crayola washables. So far, we have had no major incidents, although we have found it difficult to keep marker off our hands, and our arms. We do not draw on our hands with markers. We do not draw on our arms with markers. We only draw on the paper.

Yesterday, I was doing my hair and makeup, and Evelyn came to stand on her stool beside me and watch me. Now, even at the best of times, I have relatively translucent skin, but the increased blood flow or hormones or something of pregnancy have made this problem even worse. Enter the warm weather (short sleeves, no tan), and my arms look a little like a human etch-a-sketch at times.

Evelyn: Mommy, we don't do that!
Me: Do what, sweetie?
Evelyn: We don't draw on our hands. We don't draw on our arms!
Me: What?
Evelyn (pointing to large, green blood vessel running from my wrist to my elbow): Look. On your arm. We do not draw on our arms.

Sigh.

Yes, I have to say, so far, summer is treating Evelyn much better than it is treating me. She looks adorable in a swimsuit, she got to wear shorts for the first time in months today, and although these pictures don't really show it, styled by sweat is her hair's best look. You'd think she could muster up a better facial expression after such a bang-up awesome day.

Gotta love

The tush. Especially in a ballet skirt that came free with a pair of PJs.

Don't mind the jump rope burn on her neck. Apparently, tug of war is not a three-way game. Especially if you are in the middle and the two kids on either ends of the rope are older and faster than you. Lesson learned.

As opposed to the last time we tried to take her picture, Miss E was in the mood to pose. Why is it that this never happens during scheduled family picture time?

(Photos courtesy of Kathryn)