iRacket?

If you want to buy an album on iTunes, it's gonna cost you $9.99. If you want to buy someone a gift card so that they can purchase an album on iTunes, it'll cost $10.

I wonder how much extra money goes into the Apple coffers because of that penny difference. I think I'd like to sign up to have those pennies deposited into my own personal checking account.

I mean, I know it's all imaginary money anyway--what's the difference between paying $9.99 and $10, really? But why, then, don't they just make it cost $10 to download the album? What is the deal with that penny?

Snow Day Jan 10 2009

God Bless Olive

Mae approaches, Olive prepares.

Mae pets Olive.

Mae huuuuugs Olive.

This is a really big hug, people.

And believe it or not, Olive did not run away following this photo shoot. In fact, Mae got up and walked away and Olive looked a little disappointed that the lovin' had come to an end. What a sweet cat!

The Time Has Come

Back when Arlo was a toddler, I found this adorable knitting pattern for a hat equipped with holes--made for a little girl's pigtails to stick out. I mildly lamented the fact that I had a boy, because I so desperately wanted to parade my child around in the "Piggle."

I'm surprised that I never knitted one for myself, given my propensity for grown-up pigtails. Even though I said, many times, that I should knit a Piggle hat for any of my numerous friends who have since had little girls, I never did. Maybe I didn't really want anyone else to have one (that is, an adorable little girl in a special pigtail hat) if I couldn't have one.

Since Mae was born, I've been monitoring the hair situation, wishing that her hair would grow as quickly and thickly and luxuriously as Arlo's did when he was her age. I have pined away for my girl's hair to be long enough to attempt pigtails.

BEHOLD:

Guess I'd better get crackin.' Matching Piggles for Mom and Daughter, coming soon to a blog (and two very lucky heads) near you!

You Go, Girl

I am proud to report that Macy peed in the potty for the second time last night!

I've noticed that she often pees on the floor right when I take her diaper off for bath time at night--so I got out Arlo's potty chair and tried sitting her down on it right at that crucial time. My first successful attempt was three nights ago--and I made such a big deal about it, you would've thought I'd won the lottery. I squealed and clapped, laughed, cried, hugged. I think Macy was a little taken aback--but I was so proud.

Night before last, I tried again--but she couldn't hold it, and peed on the floor and all over her legs after I slipped her diaper off--but before I could get her on the potty.

Last night, it worked like a charm. Macy seemed to know exactly what to do, and as soon as she had tinkled a bit, she stood up and looked at it, and pointed in the potty with a big goofy grin on her face. Arlo and Ted came in to catch the tail end of the show, and joined me in making a big fuss over our big girl's mad potty skillz.

I'm truly not in a hurry to have Macy completely potty-trained (Arlo took about a year and a half from first interest to accident-free), but I have to admit that it is exciting to see the light at the end of the diaper tunnel. Hooray!

Pitter Patter? Not exactly.

I took a moment yesterday to relish the sound of Mae's bare feet slapping against the maple floor in the hallway. I knew she was coming to find me, because she walks more loudly than anyone in the house, and I could tell she was in a hurry.

"Mom! Mom!" she shouted as she walked. It's like she's already a teenager.

It's not exactly the "pitter patter" of little feet--more like the "SMACK! SMACK!" of little feet. Whatever you want to call it, it's something I never want to forget--and that's why it ended up here.

After the storm

Earlier this week, we had a babysitter taking care of Arlo and Macy while their usual daycare is closed for the holidays. Photo number one here shows what our house looked like each day when we got home from work. Bear in mind, I'm not complaining about the babysitter--she's sixteen, and we were very clear with her that housekeeping was waaaay down the list of priorities, below keeping the kids safe and happy. I'm just sharing the photo because it illustrates exactly what happens at our house when a grown-up is not picking up after everyone at all times.

The good news is, Sophie the Babysitter was very good at Job Number One: keeping said kids safe and happy. When I arrived home on Wednesday after work, this is the face that awaited me. Arlo was still napping, and when he did wake up (after Sophie had gone home), he was very disappointed that it was Mom and not Sophie who was waiting for him.

I'm just so proud to see that Macy now knows how to cheese it up for the camera. Hooray!