I’m proud of the fact that we have quite obviously instilled a sense of independence in our third child. I don’t doubt that he could probably live on his own, make his own money, and cook his own dinners. He only keeps us around for entertainment purposes, I believe.

One of his favorite sentences is “I got it!”

Last night, as usual, he informed us “I got it!” as he climbed into his crib. How dare I try to spot him?

Today, he screamed “I got it!” when I offered to put his shoes on.

The other day, when we were at the beach, he was up to his ears in water (and probably on his tiptoes). Being the caring mother that I am, offered to help him out. “I got it,” he gargled.

“I got it!” in the carseat; “I got it!” when I’ve forgotten to set a fork for him at dinner; “I got it!” when he is getting dressed, going to the bathroom, trying to put on a diaper. He is terribly stubborn about it. Plus, it can be horribly tedious, as he is generally very slow about doing anything. But he does it. By himself.

A few days ago, we were at the park, and I was pushing him in a swing. I noticed a glorious stream of boogers running out of his nose. I stopped his swing, and started digging in my pocket for a kleenex. Iheard him say–that’s right:

“I got it!”

And he had.

…with his tongue.

It is a happy talent to know how to play.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

I am some strange juxtaposition of easily amused and not-so-easily impressed. There are times when I can barely stand how excited I am over the little, seemingly insignificant things. The photo above, for example. Not many things are as fun as disturbing a perfectly calm body of water, as Dimples is doing (during our “sissy camping” this week). But every now and then, or maybe even more often, this snooty beast inside me will allow nothing less than perfection to impress me. Snooty is sleeping today.

Speaking of easily amused, I am so ridiculously excited for this Saturday morning:

Like, butterflies-in-my-stomach-when-I-think-about-it excited. We will be “Up North,” and I expect to be completely anti-social, with my head buried in the book. I’m thinking I should feign pregnancy-related fatigue. I re-read the sixth book this week, so I am all refreshed and ready to go. Yippee! (Note: I am fully aware that I am a grown woman, and not a child. Thank you very much.)

By the way, I do hope to post some vacation pix soon. I think I have found a better way to open them. But, as my friend Crumpet so often says, “I CAWN’T be bAWthered.” It is her pretty way of saying “I’m too f**king lazy,” or “I jus’ don’t wanna,” or “Listen, I’ve got better things to do.” I like her version better, don’t you?