Mine
Liv has been saying "Mine" for a few days now. Its kind of funny -- reminds me of the seagulls in "Nemo". It's kind of neat -- she's learning to assert herself against a bigger, stronger, older brother. And it's kind of obnoxious -- sometimes says it when not provoked. But she's learning and that is good.

That's my Boy!
Tonight was a late night. After dinner we went outside to play -- it was a gorgeous night right up until it started to rain. We were out front swinging and about ready to wrap it up to come inside and start the bedtime routine when a neighbor walked over to complain about the algae and the overall condition of the neighborhood lake (as prez of Community Ass. I get alot of these complaints) and we ended up talking until well after 8pm, and well after Liv's bedtime, and well after the start of the Flyers game. [I am a big hockey fan and even bigger Flyers fan, and during the playoffs I get sucked in pretty good.] So when we finally got inside it still took a few minutes to get her ready. Shane asked if he could have his Shrek popcorn -- I didn't realize it was actually green when I bought it. I made the popcorn and put Miffy on the boob tube, while I got Liv ready for bed. Once she was down, I told Shane that once Miffy was over we were going to go read. But with five minutes left, I realized that tonight really should have been bath night for both kids, but especially Shane with his injured toe. Falling behind on time and energy, I cut another deal. I told Shane that if he soaked his foot in a lukewarm bath of salt water for five minutes, he could watch another show. From Comcast's onDemand, he chose Dora the Explorer: Beach which proved appropriate. I ended up bringing one of his little chairs into the LR and put the front legs down on one of our beach towels and then put one of our size 12K+ casseroles on the towel in front of the chair. With his foot in the mini bath, he got this excited look on his face, and said, "This is like the beach Dad." After Dora was over he still had some popcorn left, so I offered to let him stay up and watch hockey until his popcorn was gone or he could go to bed. Guess which he chose. Sitting on sofa in my arms watching hockey, eating popcorn, and I think secretly trying to wait for Mommy to come home, he turns and says, " Daddy, I love hockey!" I didn't know if I should be crushed or excited or what. When he started I thought he was going to tell me that he loved me, but I found myself finding satisfaction in the idea of watching him play someday and of us watching more hockey together. Also, I suspect that he loved staying up late and eating green popcorn.