Our little Peter Rabbit was a great help in the Halloween rush.  Loving it.

Murrow: Green means stop and red means go.
Me: Uh, no…
Murrow: Yes, green means stop and red means go.
Me: Yeah, not so much.
Murrow: YES.
Me: Well the longer you cling to that logic, the longer it will be until you get your driver’s license.
Murrow: But I want my driver’s license.

And so it begins.

Murrow’s been interested in the Wii for awhile now, but has never really “gotten” it.  We’d play MarioKart and he’d just go around in circles…but in the past week or so, something clicked and he’s now a Wii Sports fanatic.  It started off with some baseball (he’d pitch, I’d bat), then moved onto Golf (overhand swings are best), and now bowling.

Strangely, he’s not too bad at it.  He’s averaging over 100, and his best score was 175 (beating me).  His method is still a bit chaotic, but you can’t argue with results.

Continuing the tradition of celebrating momma’s birthday with a horribly constructed cake without eggs. A tradition started years before Murrow was born…must have been fate.

Kim and I knew it would happen some day, but it just seems so soon. Yes, Murrow has had plenty of milestones recently showing us what a big boy he is. Going to the bathroom by himself, putting on his clothes and shoes, playing “frisbee” (actually just tossing back and forth the lid to his blocks in the front yard), and playing wii baseball (just the pitching)…but today was the biggie.

He played in the kids play area at IKEA.

Without any hyperbole, it is safe to say one of us started to cry a bit, and the other felt a nervous tension as if he had left something behind. We’d all been looking towards this day ever since he could walk.

Rules to get into the IKEA play area:

* 37 inches tall … check
* Potty-trained … check
* Ability to play without his parents watching … check
* Parents able to leave child without freaking out … barely

This one was titled “I don’t know how to listen to Momma.” Seriously. I can’t make this stuff up.

“You can’t feed Oly because you don’t have a boobie, poppa”

Momma may have decided not to return to work after her maternity leave, but that doesn’t mean we’ve been spending any less time in the office. There’s lots of important work to be done in there, what with all the fabric to be sewn, glue to be stuck and pacifiers to be spit out. It does get a little old, though, when your office mates crank up the tunes too loud.

Ok, so maybe he doesn’t walk so softly

Alternate title: Blow out the candles, Momma.