Sugar detox

It's day four of implementing my one dessert per day rule, and I think I'm going through withdrawal. I have a wicked case of the munchies, and a piece of cheese just does not do for me what a piece of chocolate does. But I'm hanging in there. We have a wedding at the end of the summer and I'd like to lose some weight before then - so it's walks with the boys and sticking to the one dessert rule. So far, so good.

Of course, there was a double entendre with that title because my love for desserts is what has me in the wardrobe pickle I'm in - so that's my just desserts. And then, as we all know, I'd like to eat just desserts, so you see...it's a little play on words. Get it? Is this thing on? You guys are like my accountability group. Except I have no idea who reads this thing. What's a girl have to do to get a little comment love around here? Come on, now - don't be shy.

Okay, on to some pictures and a funny story. You deserve that much if you're still here because I'm feeling extra silly tonight.

Going to Aunt Tori's house was like Christmas around these parts, since she gave us some really great things that her kids have outgrown. We're experiencing the fun that is the Little People collection - so cute. Jack just loves them. And we also got something Patrick has been dying for: a bike trailer for the kids. Well, for now, it's just for the kid, but eventually, they'll both be in there. Patrick loves riding his bike for exercise, so we've been talking about getting one, but there's just no room in the budget right now. Then, lo and behold, we're walking around the zoo and Tori asks me if I know anyone who could use a bike trailer since her kids are too heavy for her to pull. Cue the choirs of angels, "AAAAHHHHHH!" Thankful, once again, for our minivan, we brought that baby home and it's been used every day since.

We literally laugh out loud every time we see Jack in his helmet. I guess this is not a good thing because it might make him too self conscious to want to wear his helmet, but when you see him in it, you'll understand:


See?

Ok, now on to the funny story. Do you see the small stuffed Dalmatian dog in there with the yellow vest that's "sitting" next to Jack? Here's the story of how he came to acquire that little gem.

Monday morning, Memorial Day, I was sitting in the living room talking to my sister on the phone. Patrick was going to take Jack somewhere - I forget where - in the minivan. He went outside, and about two minutes later, he came in and said "Eileen, I need help." Well, we all know he needs help (ba-dum bum), but I could tell this was serious, so I hung up with Devon. "I just locked the keys in the van, and Jack's buckled in there," says he. Ok, not to worry - I'll call the police. I didn't want to call 911 because this wasn't really an emergency, it wasn't like we were in Arizona with 110 degree temperatures or anything. So I called 411 and asked for the non-emergency number for the local police station. When I got the dispatcher, I told her what happened and where we live. "How old is your son?" she asked. 18 months. "And is he in any immediate danger?" Not at all. She says she'll send someone out. I leave it in Patrick's capable hands and come inside to nurse PJ. Well, about 4 minutes later, I hear them - the trucks, plural, that pull up outside - and I know that there are probably 10 service people outside our home all working to get my son out of the car. Did I mention the non-emergency, no immediate danger thing? Well, if I weren't nursing PJ, I'd have been out there with my camera, but it turns out there was a fire truck, an ambulance, a police car, and three other volunteers who came in their own cars, blue lights a-flashing. Shocked and slightly embarrassed (at the sight of Larry in a towel...Veggie Tales?....anyone?) at the number of people who showed up, Patrick was out there assuring all the neighbors, who were now coming outside to see what was going on, that everything was just fine. After they got Jack - who thought all this hubbub on his behalf was quite amusing and who was thrilled beyond belief to see a firetruck - out of the van safely, one of the firemen went to the truck to retrieve that cute little stuffed dog and give it to Jack.

The end.

I'm hurting for a segue here, but can't come up with one. Firetruck, hose. Hose, water. Water, bath. There it is! PJ had his first big boy bath this week. He doesn't get bathed quite as often as he maybe should, and I've been doing the sponge bath thing with him until now, trying to put off the screaming as long as possible (Jack hated the bath at this age). I was pleasantly surprised, though, to see his reaction...

Not sure what to make of it here.

I had him in there with Jack, who was sharing his bath toys, so that may have helped.


And then....enough. Jack's like "Uh, Mom - could you do something about this?"

I'm sure that was the first of many shared baths to come. It's always more fun to play bathketball when someone's blocking the net, right?

And this just in...dare I make this post longer? While I was typing this, Jack walked up to me, holding his crotch, and said, in Jackspeak, "Help, Mom," which really sounds like "Ha, Mum." I asked, "You need help? Do you want to go tinkles on the potty?" (Just yesterday I brought the potty, which I had put away a few months ago, out again and thought we might try sitting on it a few times this week.) "Uh-huh," he said, running over to his little potty. Patrick went over, took his diaper off (Jack's, not Patrick's), and he sat down and tinkled! Holy cow!! Granted, none of the tinkle actually ended up in the potty, since that guard in the front is just a little too small, but still! We just cleaned up the carpet and went crazy clapping and dancing around. Yay, Jack!