Anticipation

Sometimes the anticipation is as exciting as the ride...

Evan's First Rollercoaster Ride!

Carrots

Apparently Evan thinks "Carrot" is an expetive. Today he dropped something and said "Aw Carrots!" I'm not sure if this is intended to be a derivitive of my dad's often used, "Aw Nuts," or if this is one more thing I have to thank the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse for.

Glow-In-The-Dark

Death to all glow-in-the-dark pajamas. Gone are the days of glow-in-the-dark that fades ten minutes after the lights are out. Thanks to modern technology, glow-in-the-dark continues to glow. All frickin' night.

This weekend we were up at the ranch, where we share a bedroom with Evan. Friday night was one of the worst night's sleeps we've had in the past six months. Maybe longer. Evan tossed and turned all night long, kicking and hitting the wall.

It wasn't until I climbed into bed with him at 5 am, trying to get him to settle down for another hour that I realized he was waving his arms and legs wildly - to watch them move in the dark.

To all those looking for a Christmas present for Evan: glow-in-the-dark pajamas have been officially banned in the Lincoln household.

Meet the Newest Lincoln

We've added another member to our household. Evan's not so sure about her yet. He doesn't exactly like having to share our attention, but considering what I discovered the other day, he could use some competition.

I came downstairs to find Evan had taken a picture of himself off the bookshelf, placed it on the ottoman, and then lined up all his cars in front of it, as homage to himself. Someone obviously thinks he's the center of the universe.

As far as our new member, Callie, is concerned, she fits in just fine. She's sweet, she's gentle, and she's already made herself right at home. When we brought her home last night, we unloaded the car first, and then Brad went back out to the car to get her and she was already sitting in the front seat.

Did I mention she farted in the car all the way home? She's fitting in just fine.

Proud Parents

What can I say, we're so proud.

Picasso

Living with Evan is, as always, an adventure. I had a push to get the latest edits on my book done, so I did what I had to do. I utilized the electronic babysitter and put on Thomas the Train and went upstairs into my study to get some work done. It’s not as bad as it sounds. I was twenty feet away with the door open. If he needed me, I would have heard. Unfortunately, he didn’t need me. He was just fine all by himself. So far as I can figure, the pen must have fallen from the top of the fridge where we now keep his markers and his crayons since the crayon in the carpet incident of June.

In honor of Harold and the Purple Crayon, the pen was, of course, purple. I walked downstairs and found a new collage the length of our living room wall. Evan apparently wasn’t happy with the new couch, so he decorated that, and the ottoman, and the chair. He added some flair to our bookshelf and began his budding writing career by contributing to our Harry Potter collection, and then having heard his Grandpa Art’s suggestion last week to paint the kitchen cabinets, Evan started in on that, and then continued on to our kitchen table, our kitchen bench, our kitchen barstools, even the kitchen sliding glass door. The single room he didn’t touch? His playroom.