Irreversible

Today is the day, so says my husband.

So, though reluctant and quite a bit sad, I agreed it was time.

Snip. Snip. Snip.
Curls a puddle in a the floor.

No more wild man hair.

All grown up. My big boy.

First haircut. Check.

Muffins with Mom

Beck took an early afternoon nap today, so he was up during my normal dinner prep time. Not that he was having a bad day, but he was having a not-really-into-occupying-himself kind of day. He took up permanent residence in the kitchen, completely ignoring Barney and his blocks, becoming my shadow as I moved about the kitchen. Thus, dinner prep suddenly turned into a how can I successfully incorporate my toddler into my baking tasks?

I tried avoidance at first, ignoring the fact that he was really underfoot. I might have also tried a piece or two of candy corn to distract him while I rummaged through the pantry for ingredients. After making a batch of vegetable barley soup with the wee one entangled in my legs and begging for more candy corn from the jar on the window ledge, I decided it was going to be all but impossible to whip up a batch of chocolate chip pumpkin muffins with that nagging sensation {literally} clinging to my lower limbs.

So, I decided that Beck was just going to have to bake with me. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, that he could successfully handle a wooden spoon, and decided to make lemonade out of lemons. Er, muffins out of madness. I pulled a chair up to the sink, stood him on it right next to the counter, and buddy, we were in business.

He watched patiently while I added in pumpkin puree and cracked eggs and added cups of sugar. He pointed inquisitively at the batter, babbling about whatever it was I was doing. Then I handed him the spoon and let him mix.

And, guess what?

He loved it. Even following directions successfully. Not adding ingredients to the appropriate measurement, of course, but not sticking his fingers into the bowl though he desperately wanted to. He kept repeating mii mii, explaining that he was mixing. My socks were charmed right off by his cuteness.

So, together, we made muffins. And it was fun. He eventually managed to stick those tiny fingers into the batter, but he was so well behaved, I didn't mind. Plus, who can bake without tasting the batter anyway?

It also reminded me that my baby is getting too big. Crazy big. Big enough to make muffins with his mamma. Sigh...

PS. Go visit my friend Brit to participate in her fun blogiversary giveaway!

If you like to talk to tomatoes...

...if a squash can make you smile....

Have we got a costume for you!

Can you guess what Becks and B were for Halloween?

That's right. We had our very own Veggie Tales ensemble trick-or-treating from house to house on the 31st. They were quite a cute pair. I just played the ole Abbaratzi, shooting photos like it was my job. I present to you, Bob the Tomato:

Surely, he's making a phone call to some fellow produce. His father, perhaps? Er, Larry the Cucumber, I mean.Bob was super-pumped about the picture, you can see. But, while posing for pics wasn't his thing, riding in the wagon up the street was totally fun.

Trick-or-treating with a sixteen month is the equivalent of chasing a ping pong ball. He. Was. Everywhere. Even stopping once to jump into a pile of leaves while en route to another house. We made it a dozen or so homes before we decided the night would be better spent in the confines of his grandparents' house noshing on sweets.

Oh, by the way, I totally made the costumes. Both of them for $12.77. I thought they turned out cute, and for something they were only going to wear once it wasn't a bad deal.

And, in case you wondered who we trick-or-treated with, that would be Princess Jasmine and her tiger, Raja.

Also, in other completely random news, the boy child has found love in a purple dinosaur whose name begins witha Bar and ends with a ney. The picture below emphasizes the joy that watching that show brings to him, so I guess I'll let him continue to snack while PBSing. Especially since it buys me 5 minutes to do something other than watch my little ping pong ball bounce all over the house.

And the winner is...

Stepping in for a sec from our Halloween festivities to let you know that we have a winner in the Fab Bag Giveaway!

First of all, thanks so much for your bloggy love and support! Giveaways are so fun and I enjoyed reading all of your comments and meeting some new BFFs (blog friends forever). Without further ado, the winner is...

Jennifer H. from Adventures with Austin!

{Jennifer, I left you a comment on your blog! Please email at babblingabby (at) gmail (dot) com!}

Happy Halloween, y'all! I'll post pics later :D

Totally random Thursday.

Yaaaaaaawn.

I'm posting from my bed today, where my icy Diet Coke is on my nightstand to my left and a bowl of cheesy flavored whale crackers are to my right. And I'm trying hard not to get either on the laptop keyboard. I had my little speaking engagement this morning, and the preparation and stress of it all has literally worn me right out. The minute I put Beck down, I decided I needed to go to bed in order to combat the overwhelming urge I had this morning to throw my lesson plans out the window and curl up in a bean bag and let the kids have an all-day indoor recess. And, yes, I literally could have slept through all of the chaos that indoor-recess brings {those of you who teach and loathe a rainy day when you're subject to indoor recess know exactly how tired I must have been.}

Not that I need to make up more excuses for my prolonged indoor nap (but I might as well since my husband is probably reading this wondering why I'm not doing something more productive), but I also have a site-based council meeting at 4pm followed by a PTA meeting at 6pm. It's one of those never-ending days, and another reason why I'm desperate for the FIVE day break that Thanksgiving will bring in a little under a month.

And, stop the world, they are playing Christmas music on one of the stations I listen to! Geez Louise, it's not even Halloween yet! I'm not prepared to listen to Deck the Hall and White Christmas yet, so I've had to eliminate that station from my daily listening. While I do love and adore Christmastime, and it is by far my favorite holiday of the year, I'm just not ready to sting up lights and spread Yuletide cheer right now when there is a ghost on my front door and a pumpkin on the porch.

Having a kid makes time speed up times a zillion, and I'm trying real hard to slow down and treasure each moment of Becks' little baby life. Even though he's more of a toddler with his own agenda that often includes begging for candycorn from the jar on the kitchen counter, and mimicking every thing I say like my own little parrot. Anyway, I'm living in the now and really just want to get to Halloween which is on Saturday.

And, no, the costume still isn't made. But I work best under pressure anyway, so I know it will get done. If it doesn't, I could always try to find one of those stiff, plastic coveralls with the matching mask. Do you know what I'm talking about? Surely I wasn't the only stiff, plastic My Little Pony in 1989.

Anyway, I best be getting that boy child up and shipped off to his Nana M's for a little bit so I can go hash out school policy for two hours. Joy of all joys...

PS. I shredded again last night and am hurting for it today. I am embarrassingly out of shape, and can barely laugh since my abs are finally getting a workout again. In fact, they're probably laughing at me and the condition I am in. Two days down, 28 to go...

Just call me Shredder.

Well, I totally did The Shred tonight. Complete with Rotel cans in hand because you know I don't own a pair of standard weights. I'm sure at some point I did own a pair, like when I went through a phase my sophomore year of college and jumped on The Firm bandwagon along with a couple of sorority sisters. I don't even think I did it for a month before I was merely using the steps as a stool to reach things in my closet. And then I donated the complete set to Goodwill sometime this past summer when I couldn't even sell it in a yard sale.

I'm determined to become shredded or whatever verb you use to infer that you've completed The Shred. Jillian's promise is 30 days, so we'll see if I can make it. The best part is, is that it requires only 20 minutes of your time - which really isn't anything - and doesn't involve expensive fitness equipment. As I said, a pair of Rotel cans or Campbell's soup will do just fine. An old, creeky hardware floor on which to pretend to jumprope is complete optional and not recommended since it could very well awake a sleeping baby.

And I am not even embarrassed to tell you that anything heavier than a pair of Rotel cans would have likely caused my arms to detach from my body. I have zero upper body strength and the amount of shaking that my biceps were doing during the three-minute strength phase was enough to jiggle my old lady arms right off. Not even kidding you. It was embarrassing.

Additionally, because he loves me and thought I needed encouragement through my first session, my dearest B joined me in shredding and together we suffered through 279 push-ups (I'm lying but it felt like 279). Love him.

So, maybe by Christmas I'll have abs like Jillian. Or will at least eliminate some old lady arm jiggle. Or have an excuse for eating an extra serving or two of peppermint chocolate at a Christmas party...

Thoughts on raising a boy: Part 1073

{Don't forget to enter the FAB BAG giveaway!}

* * * * * *

Well, Beck had a big time this weekend. We went with my parents to their Lakehouse and he learned to throw rocks in the lake, which is pretty much the coolest thing when you're 16-months old. All was fine and dandy, until my nature-lover-of-a-husband discovered A SNAKE. A real, live, snake that might as well been an eighteen foot long boa constrictor, even though it was barely two feet long. Regardless of length, it was still A SNAKE.

Then, in a stroke of genius, he encouraged MY SON to touch the SNAKE. And Beck practically squeezed its guts out while I freaked on the shoreline, threatening my husband from afar by pointing and shrieking wildly about salmonella and germs and rabies and cooties and any other nasty thing that snake skin may contain.

Is this what it's going to be like to be the mother to a son? Because I don't think I'm prepared for snakes. Or any other species belonging to the amphibious or reptilian families. Ugh.

Moving on, it's going to be one of those weeks for like the next four and a half weeks. The kind of weeks where I wonder if we'll have clean clothes or milk in the fridge. Not only is Halloween five days away (and I still haven't finished Beck's costume), but I have a door and pumpkin to finish decorating, a speaking engagment before the entire student body on Thursday, and report card season and parent-teacher conferences are on the horizon. Sigh.

{Doesn't it sound a lot more important for me to say speaking engagement rather than a five minute spiel about poptab collection for the Ronald McDonald House? Either way, it's in front of 800 people and that. is. a. lot. Even if most of the audience will be 10 and under. I talk fast and tend to trip a lot, so say a prayer that I do okay.}

And, lastly, you should know that while I sorted through things in my classroom today, Beck occupied himself by removing tissues from an entire box of Kleenex and stuffing them into a jar. I didn't feel the least bit wasteful for it either. I needed those three minutes. He is a stinker. Love him.