Monday, August 25, 2008

When's dinner? I'm hungry!

Three Generations of Marshalls

Wednesday, August 13, 2008


I know I haven't posted any pictures in a while. Hopefully I will soon.
Derek needs a haircut pretty badly, and I have a hard time taking pictures of him when he looks so shaggy.

He has had a few new accomplishments recently!
A couple of weeks ago, he said "Papa"; just recently he started saying "Mimi" (Grammie).
He can sneak away and get halfway up the stairs before I can say Rumpelstiltskin.
A few days ago, he discovered the art of clapping, which he now does quite frequently, and even did it in his sleep one night and woke himself up.
He LOVES Sesame Street.
Hates being confined to his walker.
Has so many tiny little bruises on his knees from crawling everywhere that it looks like his knees are filthy.
Has a fascination with anything and everything electronic.
Tries to charm his way out of and into EVERYTHING.

There is more, but it'll have to wait for another post.
He's going to wake up from his nap very soon.

Friday, August 1, 2008

It happens to all of us when we are young, no matter how hard our parents try to prevent it.
Sometimes it happens by accident to those who are not so young. Like those who ride motorcycles.

At least once in our lifetime, we must all eat a bug.

Yesterday, while I was in the middle of doing something ( I couldn't stop for a rabbit trail for fear of not remembering to complete my task ), I spied a dead fly on the floor.
The dead fly was set upon the nightstand for future disposal.

This morning, as we were about to leave the house, Derek was playing by our bed while I readied ourselves to go, I experienced a "mother knows when something is wrong" moment.

Some of you may be familiar with such a creature. It happens most often when a child is quiet. When my son is quiet, it usually means he is getting into trouble and is either too focused on what he is doing, or doesn't want me to hear him doing something he isn't supposed to be doing.
Another such moment occurs to mothers of small children when they have something in their mouth which doesn't belong.
I had just such a moment.

I nearly ran across the room to rescue my son from mortal danger, and I see that he is fine... he just has a funny look on his face.

And he is chewing.

At this moment, I belatedly recall my intent to dispose of the dead fly from yesterday.
My stomach turns.

I fall to my knees and begin the finger swipe which all mothers of toddlers must learn.

When he saw the familiar finger swipe coming, he quickly swallowed.

An old nursery rhyme comes to mind.
"I don't know why he swallowed the fly,
Perhaps he'll die!"

I'm sure he'll be alright.
I may be emotionally damaged from the experience, however.