Here are some things. A topic-jumping extravaganza!
I finally got to meet Lori! The kids' daycare was closed on Veteran's Day, so I took the kids to see the giant high-def screen in the Comcast lobby. We were the ultimate white trash tourists, sitting on the floor and pulling out snacks; Roo crawling around. Afterwards we went downstairs to find the secret hallway to SEPTA's Suburban Station and there she was. Lori gives the rundown, but I have to add that I actually told Shmoo, as I introduced them: "This is my friend from the com-PYOO-der!"
Also Comcast-related, through Facebook I discovered that a friend of mine from high school is a consultant there. She lives in northern New Jersey but takes the train in and stays overnight 2x per week. So she came over for dinner on Thursday. I wonder how many near-misses we've had in the 2+ years she's worked there. Another hooray for Facebook.
Shmoo turned 4 on the 8th. We secured a bouncehouse for his party and set it up at Clark Park on the rain date, November 9. Despite our chronic disorganization, it went well. I've said it elsewhere, but 1 bouncehouse + ~10 kids + no major head wounds; everything else was gravy.
Shmoo still wears pull-ups at night. He had said to us "when I am 4 I won't need a pull-up at night." So we brought it up as we were getting him ready for bed on the night of his birthday. Wouldn't you know, he got up to use the potty at least once that night, and was dry the next morning and also the following morning. And my fellow parents are waiting for the "but" - then followed 4 nights of wetting. I got tired of washing sheets every day, so although he protested, I sneaked in after he was asleep and put a pull-up on him. He protested the next morning ("I didn't want a diaper on") but that's our decision for now, and we'll try again later.
Roo is on the cusp of walking, and has been for several weeks. She has now passed the age where Shmoo was taking his first steps (13.5 months), so I'm hoping she will do so soon. This seems to be the pattern with her: take her sweet time with physical milestones, just past the point where her pretty-low-key parents start to worry, make phone calls, and set up assessments, then voila, bust out the skill with no fanfare, as if she had been doing it all along.
She has also been adding to her vocabulary of words that only her family can understand. I love the verbal stuff. She's doing lots more imitating and self-sufficient stuff, like holding her own sippy and pushing herself on a plastic car - things that Shmoo didn't deign to do until he was much older. She's also cut most of her one-year molars in the past few weeks. Open letter to teeth: bite me.
I'm probably going to have some moles removed from the left side of my face. One I've had since birth that started out as kind of a kicky little "beauty mark" has - ewww - grown since my pregnancies (could just be due to the aging process, wheee!) and a couple new ones have - EWWWWW - sprouted up in the past few years. I feel self-conscious about them, like it's the first thing people see when they look at me. Anyway, when Shmoo was having quiet time on Saturday I went into his room and saw that he was stirring. I lay down on the bed with him. He touched the largest one and said "what's that?" I explained what a mole was and that I was thinking of having them removed. I asked him what he thought and he said "just [the largest] one. I like this one [pointing to the on my upper lip]. It's my favorite." Then he gave some reason like it's the happy one - wish I could remember the words he used. So, with the doctor's input, of course, I'll have all of them removed except that one.
Thus ends the post.