male polish

transcript: "Hey everybody! I wake up, and I paint myself. That's all."

So since Toby has been potty-trained (praise the name of the Viking forever), we have stopped locking him in his room overnight. As a result, the shenanigans. 

One morning, it was the brownies and leftover Coke. Note to self: put food up high, don't leave drinks out. 

Another day, he had the MOG's laptop for some time. Oh, and the day he found the iPhone, opened the ipod app, found Rick Pino and put him on repeat, dancing wildly. Note: secure electronic devices. 

What kind of slackers don't wake up and hear him? maybe you're asking. Don't juuuuuudge me.... he's so, so sneaky. I'm a light sleeper- he does.not.make.a.sound. 

We've gotten pretty good at Toby-proofing. Today, I thought he was probably up because Bean was screeching, "I want OUT" in her crib. But he was quiet, and in my sleep-deprived state I thought, he's probably playing games on the iPhone. Until he was quiet a while longer. I searched the house and found him in the kitchen. "What are you getting into?" "Nothing, I'm not getting anything." "I see food on your f...." and then I notice that his feet are almost BLACK. With nail polish. Also, his fingers and his legs. "I didn't spill!" he cries, aware that the rod is near. Note: Toby has won. Give him the house. 

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I need to get to work here, packing for our 6 days in Texas. Yesterday, I conquered Laundry Mountain, and now I have to choose clothes.

The challenge: an unbearably hot city that is frigid indoors. I have to pack tank tops and sweaters. Sheesh.

Richy has lined up several clark-ings with various folk at various locations. If you wanna hang with us, contact him- he's the man with a plan. I am the woman with the kids.