Weekend.

Good morning, my dears. My kitchen counter looks like a homeopathic pharmacy, with honey concoctions, lemon juice, rubbing alcohol and vitamins. My poor babies are sick, and I'm crossing my fingers I don't fall under, too. Morgan has a terrible cold and cough, and Danny's been teething and wakeful for the last three nights, with a runny nose, too. Between the two of them, they've exhausted us.

Saturday morning, before the kids were super sick, Mr. Keller and I slipped away to the flea market. My favorite find was an old, old cast iron dinner bell. Rusty gold, as MW would say. I can't wait to hang it up! After we walked around there, we went to D. I., then to lunch at Wingers. Morning dates are my favorite. Later, we took turns catching up on sleep, and when the boys were finally in bed at 7pm, I dimmed the dining room light and we ate take-out Buddy's from styrofoam while in our sweats, tired as ever. I thought to myself how lucky I am to have a partner in the rodeo that is parenthood. Especially in the middle of the night, when I think I'm dying.

We did absolutely nothing yesterday, didn't make it to church. We didn't even shower until 8pm last night. Lovely. And to think I was just bragging to my mom how healthy we have been all winter! Other than this, Morgan has had one cold and Danny hasn't had anything. And here we are.

We carry on.  

Thankfully, being sick hasn't made Morgan too mopey. He's been extra silly, saying the funniest things. Friday, at the grocery store, we walked by an elderly man with an eye patch on. As we passed, Morgan yelled and pointed at him, saying "Look mommy! There's a pirate!". I was trying so hard not to laugh! He said it over and over, and I hurried down the isle as fast I could.
He's been using the words 'Well', and 'actually' at the beginning of his sentences, and it seems as though he never stops talking. Sometimes I wish I could mute him. I think Danny does, too. Last week, I walked into the room to find Morgan sitting on top of Danny making motor noises saying, "Wooo! I'm flying an airpalce!" (Danny was the plane.) And whenever I catch him rolling on Danny, or pushing him, he turns to me and says 'Me just wrestling him, mom.' He continues to LOVE grocery shopping and everytime I put something in the cart that he likes, he says 'Oh, fanks (thanks) mom! I wove (love) this!'

I've been watching Danny lately, realizing he's changing so much. He doesn't want to play with his baby toys anymore, but loves all of Morgan's trucks, tractors and balls. He can crawl backwards (tricky, right?), but can't seem to figure out how to go forward. He says 'momma' all the time, which is cute and sweet to hear. He's still as quirky as ever, and Jared and I find ourselves laughing all the time at the funny things he does, or the funny faces he makes. He's getting fiesty and vocal, especially with Morgan, and I think there will be a day when he'll be able to kick Morgan's butt. He's a hefty chunk of a boy. We even call him Bruiser from time to time. Mostly, we just squeeze and pinch him. And kiss, too.

   

{fisher price farming}