Slingback.

I think he walks better in heels than I do.

Ice Ice Baby.

I think I might have pica. But not the dirt/paper/paint eating variety.

I eat ice. A lot of it.

I like it (need it?) so much that I often find myself grabbing ice cubes out of my — and occasionally, Nate's — glass. For me, having a significant amount of ice in my glass is darned near as important as liking the beverage that comes along with it. And when there's not enough in mine...well, I steal his. Isn't sharing what marriage is all about?

Truth be told, I never thought much of my ice eating/stealing habit until Nate gave me a stern lecture on social graces. Apparently it's gross to stick your hand in a glass of water, and even grosser when it's not yours. Especially in public.

Huh.

I still do it, of course. Just not in front of him. Or in restaurants.

But I guess I've done it in front of Calvin a time or two, because last night he crawled up on my lap, stuck his hand in my water, and fished out an ice cube. He stuck the first one in his mouth, then pulled out a second one and promptly put it down the front of my shirt. I shrieked, he cracked up, and my glass of water was quickly moved out of reach.

Not sure who taught him that funny little trick, but I have my guesses...

Pictures of pictures.

It only took us three years, three months, a couple of weeks, and two hours to get something on this massive blank wall at the top of our stairs.

FYI: creating a photo collage is hard.



In other exciting home improvement news, we also hung the roman shade the previous homeowners purchased for this window and gave to us the day we moved in — three years, three months, and a couple of weeks ago.


There's a reason you never hear "Breyers" and "fast" in the same sentence.

No shoes, no shirt, no service.

See, Mom? They didn't say anything about pants.




Cal is obsessed with shoes right now. Yesterday he brought this pair to me, pressed them into my hand while saying "shews! shews! shews!", and sat down on the floor, foot outstretched. He also spent a considerable amount of time attempting to walk around in my jewel-studded flats and, later, my flip flop.

I think it might be time for baby's first trip to the Nordstrom shoe department. They don't require customers to wear pants, do they?

Minor.

I think Dairy Queen would benefit from a lesson in the differences between major and minor.


Though I will admit the email subject line Get a minor deal on the All-New Mini Blizzard! isn't quite as compelling.

Whirlwind.

A photo summary of life with Calvin.

Bed Bath and Beyond.

Not so much bed as post-nap, but still sleepy and precious.


Bath, yes.






And beyond...well, he was just really cute this weekend.