I have gum!

shamelessly showing off 1) my LO and 2) my kit

Has everyone here seen Rat Race? Yes? No? Yes would definitely be better for the rest of this post but, regardless, I'm gonna keep babbling. In Rat Race people are in a race including Rowan Atkinson (of Mr. Bean fame, but not Mr. Bean here). His character has a silly, italian-y accent, again like Mr. Bean but not Mr. Bean. And at one point he's winning the race... and gleefully runs from the crowd squealing:

"I'm weeening! I'm weeeeening!" before falling asleep, while running, because the poor guy is narcoleptic (which has nothing to do with this story but cracks me up).

Trout, today, has a piece of gum. Courtesy of Daughter. Trout, being 1 1/2 should not have gum. I can imagine all the things, all the places, that could happen to that gum. But he ran up to me, opens his mouth wide, very wide, and so proudly showed me that gum... well... he still has the gum.

I said, because I'm very bright & articulate:

"Do you have gum?" And Trout answered:

"I have gum!" (sounds a little more like "Ah ha guh!") and then proceed to run through the house yelling; "I have gum! I have gum! I have gum!" Very much like not-Mr. Bean in Rat Race when he's winning.

Firetrucks

Eldest & Trout at Parents Weekend 2008

Eldest was a huge fan of firetrucks from the time he could talk. Now he was a good talker, but he had a lisp. A very, very unfortunate lisp because "R" wasn't an option and "T" became f's. Yeah... figure out how to say firetruck in eldest-ese.

This week I've discovered that Trout shares not only Eldest' love of cars, but also his fascination with firetrucks. The cars thing came early this week when he tried to steal another little boys cars. And. would. not. stop.

The firetruck thing came just today. A big wind blew through town, taking down some trees & limbs in the process. Including a medium size tree on the neighbors power line. We had flickering. They had damage. They got the firetruck.

Trout loooooooooooved the firetruck. Long after the firetruck with it's pretty lights had left he kept asking for it, and asking for it and asking for it. Should've named that boy Bulldog. I even tried showing him video's on YouTube of firetrucks. No go. He kept swiveling in my lap, pointing out the window, and begging for a "tata".

Which, really, is much better than firetruck w/o an "R" and an "F" for the "T".

Helllo-o-o-o...........

Okay so I haven't been blogging. Wait! I lie! I haven't been blogging here. I discovered digital scrapbooking over a year ago, um, well, technically my friend discovered it and I lived vicariously through her amazing layouts for quite a while. I finally got up the nerve to try it myself... and got sucked in.

I got so sucked in I'm now a Digital Scrapbooking Designer for a couple of online stores (Scrappy Thoughts and Stone Accents Studio) under the name Piggyscraps Design. Yeah. Piggyscraps. That's me (read here for more). I'm actually pretty good at updating my Piggy blog, and sometimes my personal stuff slips in but not like it did, like it should on here.

So along with the usual "lose weight", "get in shape" New Years resolutions, I've also resolved to pop in here & update & blog about all the cute things (and not so cute, really) my kiddo's do. On that note, I'll leave you with a little cutie story that Trout managed just yesterday.


Yesterday was church. Me, my mom and the 4 little ones (and Middle Child would so kill me to be called a little one at 16) went & sat in the cry room... because, if you haven't read me before, Monsigner has a major evil eye for any peep made other than "Amen" or "Praise be to Jesus". Trout was actually pretty good, sat through most of it either on my lap, Middle Child's or De Oma's. Pretty good until we hit communion.

See by communion he was hungry and that lady handing out the host looked to him, with his baby eyes, like she was handing out cookies! He got all kinds of excited as we got closer & closer to the front of the line. And then he was skipped. She wouldn't give him a cookie. He got bupkus.

I had to take a screaming Trout of church. Me clinging tightly to a wildly flailing baby body, while he screamed, fairly intelligibly;

"I want one! I want one! I want ooooooooooooooooooooone!"