THERE'S NO MILK IN MY FACE! 

THERE'S NO MILK IN MY FACE!

First of all, I have a big announcement. As you read the announcement, you'll have to imagine the angels singing, the Heavens opening, and bells ringing. That's how exciting and miraculous it is....
Okay, here it is.... Are you ready? (No, Mammam/Mom Elio/Uncle Bobby, we're not pregnant. Stop clutching your chest.)
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I HIRED A BABYSITTER! A real, living, breathing, BABYSITTER! And not just an average, when-you-need-her babysitter-- A WEEKLY, EVERY SUNDAY BABYSITTER! She's going to come EVERY SINGLE SUNDAY! After five years of motherhood, I have finally come to the conclusion that my kids may live through an occasional three hours without me. So I made the decision to really look for a sitter a few nights ago, amid raucous and enthusiastic cheering and whooping from my husband. He even did one of those jumps where you punch the air with your hand. This very Sunday we will be leaving our children (well, not Reagan; as her sole source of food, I think it'd be pretty cruel to leave her to starve...) for THREE HOURS while we go to lunch and go shopping. Don’t worry; we haven’t let the kids in on the secret that we’re actually excited about this. And truthfully, I may be excited NOW, but historically, attempted fun times out without the kids begin with me needing a few drinks before I’m even able to think about relaxing (and that’s when their tried-and-true very capable godmother is watching them; this is a non-family member; chances are I’ll need to be totally soused just to leave the house). The kids, on the other hand, seem to feel that THEY need a break from US. Connor actually said so; he commended me on finally bringing someone in so he and Ror can have some “fun time without you and Daddy.” Humph! I am slightly insulted, but also counting my blessings that they’re okay with this new turn of events.

So, on to my new favorite Rory story. Ror is the most enthusiastic big brother who has ever existed, and as such, spends an exorbitant amount of time with his face only centimeters from Reagan’s, making high-pitched cooing sounds. So, it was bound to happen. Yesterday, as Ror was cooing, “Hey, sweetheart, I like you! Do you like me? I like you, Reagan! I like my baby sister! Give me a hug…” ssssslurp! Reagan latched on to his nose and began voraciously sucking. Ror gave a jolt of surprise but did not attempt to pull away, apparently believing that she was about to remove his nose; instead he began waving his arms around, screaming, “There’s no milk my face, Reagan! There’s no milk in my face!” I came over and unlatched her, and he stood next to her with a look of sheer betrayal on his face before saying to me incredulously, “REAGAN THINKS MY NOSE IS A BREAST!”

I’m not totally surprised that food is all that Reagan can think about; have you seen the latest pictures of her on the photo albums (see link at right)? She’s really packing on the pounds! When Riley Kate was this age, she was just leaving preemie clothing behind; Reagan seems to be quickly growing out of her 0-3 month clothing already! She is also absolutely the most smiley baby we’ve ever had. She looks kind of like a monchichi.

Connor and Riley Katie have been getting along famously these days, united in their abhorrence of Ror’s ebullience (some would call it aggression; I like to put a more positive spin on his ability to destroy an entire room in thirty seconds) and their mutual love for pretending to be rock stars. Our ears never rest around here. Some of Connor’s latest and greatest include “The Solar System” which gives a chilling musical account of what happens when you look under your bed and discover that there’s an entire solar system under there (don’t we all hate it when that happens?), the newest “Jesus King of Everything” ballads, of course, and his own remix of Finger Eleven’s “One Thing” and Aerosmith’s “Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing.”
Well, it’s pizza night at the Elio House, so you know what that means—time to go cover the entire dining room with a drop cloth. Have a great weekend!

***I’d also like to use this forum to extend a special thanks to my uncle for being my own personal computer special ed teacher, walking me through technological tasks via email and phone, with little information on what’s actually wrong. I commend him for his ability to fix an entire computer (several computers of mine, actually) based on descriptions like “I pushed on the button with the arrow, but it just went ‘errrr-errrr’, and when I clicked on the ‘x’, it said, ‘dong!’” So thank you to Uncle Bobby; I’m sure there’s a special place in Heaven for you as a reward for all of the stupidity and high-strung meltdowns I’ve flung your way over the past twenty five years.