Great Googly Moogly

After I posted about our Saturday night with B, I realized that I completely forgot to mention that as soon as mom got to the apartment, we dragged her to the Galleria to take advantage of Old Navy's one-day-only denim sale. We were hoping to get Alex a few pairs of seven dollar jeans so he'd be set for the fall and winter, only to discover that we weren't the only ones who knew about the sale. Yeah, somehow the rest of Dallas found out about it, too. So by the time we got there at four, there were only a couple of pairs left in Alex's size, and the rest of Dallas must have decent taste because the couple of pairs that were left were dorky-looking. And Alex won't wear anything that makes him look like a dork.

The trip wasn't all for naught, however. We stopped at the Martin Lawrence art gallery at Saks, (no, not that Martin Lawrence) and saw some really great stuff, including some Picassos and Rembrandts and a humongous Robert Deyber painting that Tim and I wanted until we found out it would set us back twelve thousand big ones. Um, yeeeaaaaaah, maybe next time.

We also stopped in at Slappy's Puppet Playhouse, which is sooo up my mom's alley. She wanted to get Alex a puppet and this is what we ended up with:

We've named him Great Googly Moogly, but he also responds to "Googly". Or if he's in a good mood, he'll answer to "Goo". We laughed about the fact that, out of all the beautiful puppets they had to choose from, we ended up with the ugly monster. But Mom and I fell in love with him and figured that we could make Alex love him, too. Which he does. He already knows how to put him on his hand, although he can't figure out how to get his mouth to move. For now, he just waves him around in the air.

Poor Googly. Murphy is convinced that Goo is his toy, not Alex's, and what Murphy does with his toys is just plain ol' mean. Until we convince him otherwise, Googly will be in hiding at times when Alex is not playing with him. I guess Murphy's not afraid of monsters. Good to know, in case we ever run into one and need him to protect us...

Saturday night with Granny B

I took so many pictures when my mom was here this past weekend and we did so many fun things that I want to write about that I'm gonna have to break her visit into several posts. I mean, for crying out loud, she was only here for three days. I think I might need professional help.

Anyway, she got in town Saturday afternoon, during Alex's nap, so Timothy picked her up from the airport. We hung out at the house for a while and went to dinner at Bubba's, a greasy spoon serving the likes of fried chicken, hot buttered rolls, and chicken and dumplings. Alex and I shared grilled chicken strips, mashed potatoes, and green beans, although he spent most of his time flirting with the lady in the both across from us. And although she couldn't have been less than seventy-five years of age, she was one of the most adorable old grannies you'd ever lay eyes on, with a cute bob haircut and a hip denim jacket with funky buttons that I totally would've picked out myself. I'm telling you, the kid knows how to pick 'em. She was flattered by the attention and chatted with him while she ate, and when she left, she commented about how good-natured and happy he is. He was totally bummed that she was leaving and watched her as she walked through the restaurant and out the door. As she walked by the window of the restaurant toward her car, she peeked in and waved one final goodbye to Alex before she left, which totally made his day.

And after all that talk and comments about pictures, I failed to get a picture of Alex and his septuagenarian girlfriend. Shame on me.

The only thing we had time for once we got home for dinner was to give Alex a bath and put him to bed. I did get a few pictures of that, although they aren't the best ones I've ever taken. I promise to make up for the lack of good pictures in the next post...

Look who's walking

Last Thursday, I said to myself, remember this as the day that Alex decided to start walking. Not that he actually started walking that day. But he decided to. I noticed a marked change in his attitude toward being vertical, as in he would think twice before dropping to his knees to crawl. Instead, he would take a few steps in the direction he wanted to go...and then drop to his knees and crawl. And that subtle difference, I knew, signified that he had finally made up his mind about walking. I also knew that, once he had made up his mind, he would be walking in no time.

And in usual "Mom knows best" fashion, I was totally right. In a matter of three days, he went from taking a couple steps now and then to booking it across the playground at the Dallas Children's Zoo. Granny B had come to town on Saturday, just in time to witness his improved walking skills, and we got a couple videos as proof of his prowess.





So he's still a little wobbly. Perfection can't be achieved in three days. But he has come so far in a matter of days that he should be ready for his first marathon in a week or so.

To make my mommy feel better.

As an addendum to the last post, I just wanted to describe in more specific detail the circumstances surrounding the Alex-in-the-dryer situation in case anyone is truly concerned that my child will bake himself like a potato or somehow lock himself in or whatever other awful thing that could result from a child playing inside a large piece of heat-producing machinery.

First of all, the washer and dryer are housed near the front door, in a closet with double doors that open into the hallway. Those doors are only open when I am in the process of doing laundry, so I am always nearby when Alex has access to the dryer. It's not as if the dryer is located in the middle of the living room, where he may go in and out as he pleases.

Second, I am not one of those people who waits with bated breath for the dryer to finish running so I can switch my laundry the immediate second that buzzer sounds. Nope, not me. I am one of those who lets stuff sit in the dryer until it cools down completely and ends up a rumpled, wrinkled mess which I then have to iron, a task that actually requires twice the effort it takes to just hang the darn clothes up as soon as the dryer stops. Which means that, by the time I get to the dryer to remove the clothes, the machine is far from warm, and therefore, there is no chance that Alex will get burned or roasted or baked or heated in any form of the word. Plus, although he can now turn doorknobs and pull stuff off of countertops and access many other things you'd swear were too high for him to reach, he still cannot reach the buttons and dials that are used to operate the dryer, and thus, would never be able to turn the dryer on himself.

And third, assuming that Alex wanted to lock himself in (which he has been know to do in his bedroom or our bedroom or the bathroom or his closet), there is no handle attached to the inside of the dryer door, and thus, no way for one to shut the door from the inside. The only way for him to get trapped would be for Murphy to happen by, decide to settle a score, and slam the door shut with a swing of his paw. Call me crazy, but I just don't see that happening. Because then Murphy would have no one to steal snacks from.

Long story short, I am very careful and watchful when my son is in or near the dryer. I mean, just because I let him play with full cans of Comet toilet bowl cleaner and slam his hands against the hot oven door and fail to catch him when he repeatedly plummets to the hardwood floor from the tops of chairs and boxes and tables does not mean I would let him lock himself in a running clothes dryer. Sheesh, what kind of mother do you take me for?

Fluffed and ready to be folded

Alex's new hangout. This was not the first time he decided to climb into the dryer while I was attempting to switch the laundry, and I'm pretty sure it won't be the last. If only we had a front loading washer. Then he could give himself a bath for a change...

Definitely not getting the worm.

It appears as though Alex will not being seeing his father off to work in the mornings. His late awakening on Monday seems not to have been a fluke, since he has slept until at least 8:30am all week. Here it is, 8:47am, and I'm just now starting to hear him stir. It may be one of those transitional things, like his body is acclimating to getting just one nap and will need that extra rest for a while. And despite his extra morning sleep, he still gets a good solid nap of at least two hours and is more than ready for bed by 7 o'clock. So for now, he only gets to see his daddy for a measly hour or so before bedtime. Ugh, employment stinks. Well, the money part is nice, and feeling productive and being a contributing member of society and whatnot. But other than that...

Fork-a-fied

Alex has been showing interest in eating with silverware for sometime now. Well, to be more accurate, he has an interest in eating what we eat, how we eat, and doing what we do in general, for some time now. We have been trying to remember to give him a fork at every meal so he can practice, and although he is by no means proficient, he is getting the hang of it.