"I cute."

Nothing aggravates me more than when Eli pulls my headbands out of my drawer and stretches them over his fat head...ok, actually that is a lie. A lot of things do. This is just fresh on my mind. Adam and I were finishing dinner last night when Eli ran in with ALL of them stretched over his head and announced, "I cute." Yes, Eli. Yes you are. And then he tried to pull a Jordi La Forge look, which personally, I didn't find nearly as attractive as the rainbow of useless, stretched out headbands.



In addition to being coordinated enough to stretch elastic over his head, he has also demonstrated a propensity for making towers stand far longer than a spectator might imagine. You can tell how proud he is. Maybe he will be an engineer or something.

This was nice:

Dear Ashley,

I was so sad for you last week when you announced your decision. It was obvious to everyone that your heart was broken. For most of the week, I was angry for you--mad that you had to make a choice that didn't feel right. However, after my indignation passed, I had to admit that you had wise counsel. My own experience was similar to your plans; My husband was in law school while I was in grad school. We hardly saw each other and were financially troubled. It was a rough time for our marriage, and I can't recommend that path to anyone. I can't imagine the added stress of raising a child.

I'm not sure if knowing my experience will help or hinder your healing process, but I thought it was important for someone to acknowledge your sacrifice and tell you that you've made the right decision. Every time we give up something for our family, it feels like a little of our identity dies, right? It might feel like that now, but I promise you that your family will be stronger because of your choice. I hope that knowing that makes this pill easier to swallow. You are an articulate and intelligent woman, and the time will come when those gifts will be used. Don't give up your dreams.

This letter was from a friend of mine, one from whom I would not have expected to receive exactly what I needed to hear. I am still sad. But I am not angry...so that's good.

An Eli post

These are an old series of pictures that Adam took which I thought most clearly captured Eli's attitude toward...well, mostly just his attitude. I love them because you can just tell exactly what kind of kid he is. They confirm my suspicions that if he knew how to flip me off every time I go to take a picture, he would.

I had also forgotten to post Eli's first, and very hilarious, sentence. Adam recently became concerned that Eli's favorite stuffed animal, a worn out dog that must be washed weekly because my son insists on sucking and chewing on its eyes and face, was a hazard. Specifically, he worried that Eli would crack a tooth (to say nothing of choking) whilst committing this disgusting practice every time he went to bed. So I was compelled to cut the eyes of the beloved dog out. I gave it to him for his nap, eagerly anticipating his reaction to the change. He moved to grab the eyes and direct them to his mouth, at which point his jaw dropped and he exclaimed, "Uh oh! Help! No eyes!"

And then, last night he went to the bathroom on the toilet for the first time. I was clapping for him and telling him how cool that was and he looked up at us and nodded saying, "Nice." I think that is a result of all of the basketball we have been watching; anytime anyone does something cool, and the crowd cheers, a "nice" usually follows from either my or Adam's mouth.

And speaking of basketball and funny comments, I will go ahead and tell you how funny Adam is too: While watching the last two rounds of the semifinals and coveting the shoulders of those by the name of Dwight Howard and Lebron James, Adam confessed that if it were possible to transplant the arms and shoulders of either Dwight Howard or Karl Malone, he would gladly live with a white body and black arms. Go Magic!