New improved mad skillz.

The polliwog has achieved spoon!

Well, he stole my yogurt off the table yesterday,

and then (once approved) was allowed to work as hard as he wanted to feed himself. His eyebrows won't be hungry for days:

First haircut!

Well, the cold I mentioned in the last post turned into a nasty sinus infection, but I am now on good drugs and finally coming back to update you all on some of the events of the past month.

Among which was the polliwog's first haircut! We took him to a real barbershop and at first it looked as though he might enjoy the event:

But that illusion was soon to be dispelled, as his suspicious investigations revealed that the hairdresser Maria actually had a secret identity as an evil villainess who sought to take over the world by terrorizing small boys into stillness and submission while freezing them in place with large plastic neckbibs:

So Matt took a turn as evil sidekick, holding him while the evil villainess chased his ears with the Scissors of Doom:

He finally calmed down and stopped shrieking when I took a turn holding him, so she could get the back of his head and give him that lovely puppy-tummy-type close razor shave:

What a handsome little guy! Seen here, with a post-haircut, post-dinner celebratory cookie face:

Even the daycare ladies commented that he looks like a little boy now and not a baby anymore. Today, the haircut, tomorrow, the world.

The descent begins.

As my husband begins a few days of choice deer hunting, I can feel the polliwog's cold has taken root and is affecting my own immune system. The little guy was out of commission last weekend and the first part of this week, and so it's really not surprising that I'm next in line. He has a tendency to sneeze everywhere at the worst possible times, such as directly into my mouth when I pick him up...

It's amazing to me sometimes how much motherhood has risen the bar for what it takes to actually gross me out. Human feces? No problem, dealt with that three times before 10 a.m. Vomit? Been there, done that. Blood? A little more disturbing, yes, but not gross. Another person's snot? I just can't even dedicate energy to getting disgusted by that, really. None of these are a stranger's bodily fluids, which appears to make a huge difference, oddly enough.

Still, when it's my own nasal passages at stake and I can feel the general grumpitude set in, preventative measures are needed. So, we'll head to the store this morning for the usual cold rations of orange juice and some form of decongestant, and hope these aid me in maintaining some form of functionality for the next couple days until the height of mucus production has passed. At least I should be better by next week for the actual holiday, which is nice.

The usual suspects.

Here are the guests at the bug's 5th birthday party, post-climbing wall, splash playground, and cupcake attack:

She climbed higher than anyone else on the climbing wall, and although she didn't even notice at the time, I was proud of her. Here are a few shots of Spidergirl in action:

The white line is the one-story mark; she got her feet just above it before she came back down. We are DEFINITELY taking her there again on a non-weekend-busy day, and I'm going to climb with her:

And here is a (slightly damp and probably fuzzy) shot of the splash playground, where they all ran themselves silly and soaked us by pulling on ropes tied to firehoses:

Particular time was spent on the pirate slide, which the bug and her friends definitely enjoyed:

The party was at the local recreation center, and the staff were great with the kids, friendly and patient, even when all seven of them had to wait in line for almost half an hour before getting to the climbing wall. Go team Montessori kids, is what I have to say about that--they were very well-behaved (to a practically miraculous level) in spite of the initial wait to climb. They had a blast! It was a really great birthday, according to the bug, who is currently using one of her multiple art-supply gifts while I type.

The polliwog also attended but besides eating Pirate Booty had little to contribute, as Matt kept him home through nap, which ended after the party started. Then we made the executive decision not to let him into the pool, as I could be responsible for seven bug-aged kids, or one polliwog, and the ratio of polliwog-to-adult would not have changed if Matt had joined me in the pool. He didn't mind at all and seemed to enjoy watching the older kids splash around, having spent many hours watching the bug's swim lessons from a similar perspective.

I am having some difficulty believing the bug is actually five, but I'll get there. It doesn't seem like a real number yet but she's certainly ready for it.

Today's amazing artist story.

Just in case you need some of your faith restored in humanity:

Public Concert, Private Music

You might just tear up right in your office.