That fool not only skated, he participated in the limbo and the 11&over race. He came in third.
Simon did great. I told him to find the prettiest girl who could skate and ask her for help, but he didn't. Instead, he inched his way around the rink for two solid hours with a look of such concentration that can only be described with the words, "Don't fall, don't fall, don't fall." He says he had fun. The way he's talked about it since, you'd think he was cutting triple axels. He is his father's son. :)
Felix, on the other hand, was determined to just nail it. He went foot loose and came home a bruised turd. He would skate as fast as he could for a few yards, then wipe out. Over and over and over.
They all want to go ice skating now.
MLK, Jr Day was spent at a Nerf War. The big two went with their two lady loves to this event. Felix asked if there would be teams.
"Why? You want to be on Eeeeeeemily's teeeeeeam?"- I taunted.
<giggle, giggle>"Yes, because girls are vicious and they have good aim."-Felix.
Wednesday, Simon and Felix started an art class with their aforementioned lady loves. Jude decided to make a massive donation to the aromatics of the art studio(located in the upstairs of an antique store) as soon as we got there. As I changed him atop the vintage enamel topped table, he realized what a fun sound it made when he kicked. The added bonus was the location under a staircase, forcing me to hunch while changing him one handed as I constantly picked up the lysol can that kept rolling off the table. I'm sure the little old antiques at the front desk were wondering what the heck I was doing. He has reached the age that taking a dive off a table with a resulting head injury is preferred to diaper changes. I'd forgotten how exciting twenty minute diaper changes could be.
While I was fighting him into a diaper, the art teacher allowed Titus to doodle. Upon retrieving him, she mentioned that he used "Very advanced" art techniques. I nodded along as if I already knew he was a gifted artiste.
Meanwhile, Felix walks up with a sketch of a soldier holding an uzi blasting a butterfly from the sky. The gun I understand. The soldier I understand. It's the butterfly that makes me wonder…?
I certainly hope she's an art teacher with a sense of humor. Or a gun-toting midwesterner. Or at the very least, the mother of a boy.
Jude is the busiest of us all. He was a bit behind the curve learning to crawl, but now that he's figured it out + pulling up, it's on. He likes outlets and balancing on the edge of things. He pulls up on electrical cords and pulls down things like the fireplace tools and holder. I hear myself saying, "Where did you go?!" and "What are you eating?!" a lot.