“If I actually watered my lone rose, it might bloom,” I told a friend the other night. After doing all that work, you would think that I would remember to water the ONE plant I allowed to live in my field of mulch.
You would think so, anyway.
Good thing it rained last night.
I thought today’s biggest accomplishment was going to be Adam’s ability to see his own eyebrows. He has begun looking straight up while groaning and grunting. I thought he sounded like a character from Star Wars. Or like he was being possessed by demons, in which case, tomorrow’s baptism can’t get here soon enough.
In the midst of the carrying on, he also has learned to launch a mouthful of dinner at me with the same sound as a Nerf gun. Something like, “ploooofff,” as the entire wad lands on me, on him, on the tray, wherever.
My boy has skills.
But as I was making dinner for the grown up residents in the house, I returned to the living room to find him like this:
Now, he wasn’t like that when I left him. He had been lying on his activity mat. He finally has rolled over from his back to his tummy on his own.
Maybe he was inspired by the 10 month old girl he met at my Godson’s open house. She is almost walking. He sat in the grass, immobile, smiling and cooing at her. She moved on to bigger game. She has her sights set on bipedal boys.
I guess he figured he’d better get on the stick about this crawling thing.
Bravo, Big Chief, Bravo!
Adam laid down for his morning nap and I laid in wait. The minute he was asleep, I shot out the door, leaving baby and daddy asleep in their beds.
FREEDOM.
Whatever would I do with the whole 35 minutes in which I would be reasonably sure that Adam would be asleep?
Buy mulch and continue working on my heinous patio project. My main goal being to transform that patio from heinous to not heinous. My goals are not lofty, but they are my own.
As I set to work outside, I found this:
What is that a door for? Seriously? I live in a major metropolitan area and I thought we claimed this land from the animals long ago. I imagined something from Where the Wild Things Are jumping up to greet me.
Whatever it is, I hope it has a back door, because I flattened this one, then laid layers of newspaper and about ten pounds of mulch on top of it.
Adam was a great deal of help after his nap. The Prince doesn’t garden much:
1. Create a space which convinces the upstairs apartment neighbors that they do not live above a cesspool.
2. Get rid of the weeds that would grow to heights higher than the fence.
3. And as previously stated, move from heinous to not heinous.
Mission accomplished. I might even hang a banner.
