That Chin

It kills me.

And the neon orange Kroger sticker.

It's April, y'all! We have sprung forward and now The Goose is fully capable of staying OUTSIDE until 7 p.m. (gasp) or after.

I know that y'all really like the pictures and simply TOLERATE the jibber jabber, so I'll give you what you want first and save my riff raff for the end.

Here's what we spent nearly half an hour doing tonight (between 6:30 and 7:00 -- which is usually bathtime):

Start at the top of a hill.

Then, barrel down the hill at full speed:

Then, crash into Mama.

Photos cannot convey how fast he was going. Luckily, I got away with only a minor elbow injury. He went home completely unscathed.

Every week is a whirlwind now. I hate Tuesdays and I won't even go into why. Then I hear about the famine in sub-Saharan Africa and I feel so silly for whining about my life. But Thursdays are always good because Tuesdays are farther away than yesterday and The Goose and I get to spend the whole afternoon/evening together and then I get to upload, crop, and comment on all the pictures I have taken throughout the week. While The Dad works. At least SOMEBODY works around here. Mostly the other two people who live in this house just eat and whine.

NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH IT.

And in the between times we do some signing ... like "please," which is supposed to be one hand moving in a circular pattern on the chest, but ends up being two hands caressing the entire chest/abdominal area:

"More" is pretty standard:

And in case anyone is getting ready to write a sign language book and needs models, we'll take $100 per pose.

In other news ...

We not only SIGN but also SING.

All. The. Time. We sing all the time. ALL THE TIME! Did you get that? We sing when we get up in the morning (to the tune of the happy b/d song: Good morning to you/Good morning to you/You look like a monkey/And you smell like one too!), we sing when we're eating cheerios (to the tune of "Physical" by Olivia Newton John: Do you wanna eat CHEERIOS? CHEERIOS? I bet you wanna eat some CHEERIO-O-Ose ... let's get into CHEERIOS ... let me hear your body talk ...), we sing in the car to one of our THREE Laurie Berkner albums (our new favorite: "The Cat Came Back" and "I Love My Rooster"), we sing all the time. And we clap (TO THE BEAT, mind you) and we DEMAND quality tunes by first making loud whining noises and then, after mama prompting, making the "please" sign, which means, "Would you please select a new song since this one is clearly unacceptable."

And we READ ... we have very clear favorites:

• Truckmice by Wong Herbert Yee
• Tractors (no author)
• Fix-It Duck by Jez Alborough
• The Midnight Farm by Reeve Lindbergh (of course)
• Truckmice by Wong Herbert Yee
• Tractors (no author)
• Fix-It Duck by Jez Alborough
• The Midnight Farm by Reeve Lindbergh (of course)
• Truckmice by Wong Herbert Yee
• Tractors (no author)
• Fix-It Duck by Jez Alborough
• The Midnight Farm by Reeve Lindbergh (of course)

Oh my goodness! Would you look at that repetitive list? Well, that's how life is these days. Random obsessions and repetitiveness.

Here's a list of our current obsessions:

• helicopters (twirl your finger in circle and make a "chop chop chop" noise)
• tractors
• trucks
• keys to trucks
• toothbrushes
• toothbrush cases (like for travelling)
• spice containers with poptops
• Oreo Blasts from Sonic
• Whoops! How did that slip in there?
• Going to bed with full sip cup of water
• Book bindings (yes, you read that right ... when we get to the middle of the book, we have to pause and examine the binding)
• flowers ... specifically, pointing at them, making the "flower" sign, picking them, and hauling them around with us for hours until they are completely wilted and begging for mercy OR (alternately) screaming in protest while Dad attempts to explain how "flowers in the yard" are different from "flowers on the trail" and why we cannot pick the latter (despite valiant attempts)

There are more, but it is, as always, very late and I'm running out of steam. Do I say that a lot? That I'm out of energy? Depleted? Tired beyond description?

One time Parker Blue's Mama wrote on her blog that she just "wasn't that tired." Huh? Are you sure? Check yourself again, girl.

Oh, but there I go again, whining. When really what I want to conclude with is this: Every night at dinner we say a little prayer of gratitude for the food and the "hands that prepared it." And tonight, for the first time, The Goose participated by holding hands with us and taking a break from his face-stuffing/mess-making spectacle. And I will never forget that little snippet of sweetness.

As always: Happy Friday (or is it still Thursday?). And remember: There are more photos by clicking on any of the above images.