Baby was alarmed to find what I was cooking for dinner. Mostly that I was cooking dinner, otherwise known as the last chance of the day to whine and complain about something. Well until it’s bedtime. Anyway, I was cooking beer basted pork chops. She was horrified to discover the secret ingredient. She immediately questioned my parenting and informed me that dinner didn’t smell good. Her last words to me leaving the table were “I guess I like beer.” Maybe it wasn’t all that a successful meal.
I have frequently mentioned X-Man’s ear, nose and throat issues. As a result of these unresolved issues, he coughs frequently. Cinco, not yet three months, has determined that X-Man’s coughing steals attention from her. Her solution is to cough herself. Echoing her brother each and every time. It’s still cute, and effective as everyone immediately starts cooing at her and reminding her that she is cute. I harbor no illusions that it will remain cute past this weekend.
X-Man’s temper is bursting out. He expresses it mostly by throwing things. Being the bad mother I am, I particularly enjoy watching him try to pick up things too heavy for himself. The added fury is amusing. As are his attempts to save face by quickly becoming fascinated in something else. The boy’s staying power is nonexistent.
Cinco's also forgotten how to sleep. Good times.