My morning

Em here. I thought I'd give you a brief glimpse at my typical morning at the Zoo.

First things first. I've got to wake up the puppies.

"Mazie, Wake up!"

With Mazie out of the way I'm able to crawl into mamma's bed and watch my morning programs. I say the three magic words

"TV On! Helmo"

and hElmo appears on the magic box!

Once hElmo is over I have to check my email.

Come on. . .I know Grammy must have sent me something.

"Come on computer. . . ."

Now it's time to pick out some clothes.

Hmm. . I think this might be a little big.

Now it's time for shoes!

Teva, the offical shoes of the PCNW. Too bad they're 15 sizes too big.

The morning isn't complete without a play session with Noo Noo.

"Hey Noo, is this yours?"

Who're you calling yucky?
The morning ends with a giant gooffest!

Smile for the camera! Hey mom! "Blahh!

Time to get dressed

Em has taken an active role in getting dressed everyday. She's quick to remove every article of clothing and direct you to which outfit she's going to wear. I used to give her several choices, but now just give her the drawer.

Do not .. . I repeat. . DO NOT offer, suggest, or even mention anything other than what she has selected. Trust me, it's not worth it (speaking from experience here).

She usually informs me of what she wants to wear by stating the following.

"Pretty new dress," as she pulls out the pinkest, the frilliest dress in her drawer.

"Pretty new shoes," as she grabs shoes that are three sizes too big. (Thanks mom)

"Pretty bow," which usually ends in a scavenger hunt. (Hint Hint Ang)

I've finally decided who cares if she wants to wear a purple dress with green bloomers. . .oh wait, that's what Brian dresses her in. I guess she get's her unique sense of syle honestly.

Here she is putting her shoes on herself. When did she get so big?

Chattie Kathie

Emma has mastered the art of stringing a noun, object, and verb together to make a complete sentence. If I remember correctly, her first "real" sentence was shouted at me really early one morning . . . . "Mamma, GET UP!!" while I tried to hide under the covers for a few more minutes of shut eye. No dice. Every morning I am now greeted by the demands of a small child trying to remove the blankets from my body. Fun!

We had joked when Em was little that I wanted to be called "hey lady" instead of mom, mamma, or mommy. Well Em has developed her own name for me. She calls me, "mamma Lori". It cracks me up. Heaven forbid I get confused with any other mammas around.

To my surprise along with Em's growing vocabulary is her growing confidence. She will now happily climb the jungle gym at the park and has conquered the swing and slide. Its nice to actually be able to "play" on the playground instead of sitting in the wood chips digging with a stick. Don't get me wrong, I love to dig, but there's something special about a giggling child asking to go down the slide one more time or squealing with delight while flying on the swing!

Pure delight!

Em loves loves loves to play in the baby pool. She now has a yellow tutu to accompany her pink one.

Looking serious with tutu and pigtails.

The gratuitous cheese!

Chicken Saga

Monday night after I cleaned out the chicken coop I forgot to properly close the coop door. Tuesday morning Brian went out to wake up the chicks and found one dead chick in the yard and realized that another was missing. I thought the deceased chick was Little Guy and we assumed that Chipmunk had been a nice snack for a cat or raccon. Little Guy was a special chick . . . . she was by far the smallest of the flock and I hand fed her everyday to make sure she got enough food. Needless to say, I was devastated. It was my fault! I spent the morning circling the house looking for the missing chick. After extensive searching through bushes, up trees, and in crevises, I gave up the search. I didn't want to believe Chipmunk was dead and joked that she had "flown the coop" and was out on an extended vacation.

Today I was reading the Georgetown listserve and see a post about one of my neighbors finding an injured chick. Are your freaking kidding me??? Had Chipmunk been found? 6 doors down and across the street??

I emailed my neighbor with the description of Chipmunk he replied, "I'm sorry, the chick doesn't match that description."

Come on now. How many "missing" chicks are out there. Apparently there are at least 2 in Georgetown.

I decided that I couldn't go to sleep unless I checked out the found chick for myself.

Em and I strollled down to the neighbors house, he let us in, and imagine my suprise when Little Guy was in the box staring up at me. "That's Little Guy!" I declared.

My neighbor had bathed LG and dressed her two wounds. He set up a little house with food and water and LG had all the comforts of home. My neighbor remarked that he knew this was a loved chick because she was so "darned friendly."

I brought LG home and put her in the coop with her friends. After a quick look around and a snack, LG cuddled up with her flock and went to sleep.

Happy endings do happen.

I now need to revise my chicken obituary. . . .

RIP Chipmunk. You were loved!

Summer is finally here!

It's finally summer. For the first time all year it reached 80 degrees yesterday. Em and I have been full advantage of the sunshine and have been spending the vast majority of our mornings playing in the backyard.

Four butts!

Granny Hat
I pulled out the dog pool this morning, scrubbed it, then Em filled it with water. She would have filled it until it overflowed if I let her. I think that was the favorite part of her pool time.

Mazie got in the pool with her and this look says, "Hey mom, get that kid out of my pool!"
Em's reply, "ha, ha, ha, it's my pool now. . sucka!"

Tuck was happy to play rock fetch with Em. Em drops the rock in the pool. Tucker pulls it out. They did this for 30 minutes.

My two girls!

My three pups!

The others. . .

Everyone told me that when you have kids your relationship with your dogs will change. I didn't believe them. I replied, "No way a little lump could come between my dogs and I. My dogs are my children!" As I look back at my photos from the last 19 months I get sad. My photo albums used to be filled with pictures of my four legged hooligans, but this past year and 1/2 my pups have become background.

Example: in the past month this is the only picture I have of Mazie. Is this the way I want to remember her? Is she mearly a giant white butt? I guess one good thing about that is at least you guys know that we haven't gotten rid of miss whiney pants.

Truman is in more pictures because he loves this kids.

Kids = Food.

Truman is also a lounger. . .and so is Em. These two are made from the same cloth.

The old man. . well he's old and cranky. He's not as cranky with Em and I think he understands that she understands the "Tucker" boundaries. Outside he's okay with her affection. Inside he likes his distance.

He sleeps a lot more but will jump to lick your face if you grab for his leash.

He's also up for playing dead opposum.

Going through the pictures made me realize that I need to spend more time with my pups. I love those guys and they make my life complete. . .

Speaking of hooligans. . .this is Penny. The most social of our flock.

Baby Picasso

Em got a new easel from our friend Jennifer so I went out and bought her a sample paint set complete with apron. Here she is trying out her paints for the first time.

Here's my little artist in training!

The finished masterpiece!