We're back into the home routine. Mostly. We just got done playing with some of Oliver's new Christmas presents. Jared and I tried to get through a heartfelt rendition of "No More Monkeys Jumping on the Bed" but it was hard. We couldn't stop laughing. Because honestly, he just looks at us like... "Why are you doing that? You're dumb." He doesn't get it at all. And some of the songs sound like they're indoctrinating you into a cult. So there you go.
But other than that.. I'm certain he will come to like it eventually. And then when he does I'll curse the day I showed it to him because he'll ask for it over and over again. That is the pattern I've been noticing whenever I teach him new things.
We haven't done much since we've gotten home. The plane ride back to Minneapolis was good on Oliver's part, bad on the part of the people in front of us. They were drunk. Obnoxious. They thought it was hilarious to talk to Oliver in a cockney accent. They thought it was even better to tell me how exactly I should travel with him. AND THEN THEY WANTED TO TOUCH HIM.
There was also epic fail on part of the flight attendant. They all wanted to talk to Oliver, which I accept, but there comes a point when I'd like to be left alone. First, I asked her if there was a changing table on the plane. She said no. Then she told us it wasn't her problem. Thanks. It would've become her problem had we had another poopy diaper debacle like on our last flight.
Then she flung this at us:
Attendant: How old is he?
Me: 3 months.
Attendant: Really?! He looks like 6 months.
Me: (Trying to read book. Yeah. Whatever.) Yeah. He's big.
Attendant: (Turns to Jared.) Is that your little brother?
Jared: ...
Attendant: ...
Jared: ... No... that's my boy.
Attendant: Your son? That's your son?
Jared: Yeah.
***Awkward silence***
Attendant: You just look so young. (Tries to walk away with dignity and refuses to make eye contact for the rest of the flight.)
How many times is this going to happen!? That is the second time that Jared has been mistaken for my son. Ridiculous. Do I really look that old? Does Jared really look that young? Disgusting.
We've been lying low since we got home. After Jared shoveled us out, we went grocery shopping. To be perfectly honest, it was a GREAT experience. I missed the normalcy of grocery shopping. And shoot me, I enjoy looking through coupons.
It wasn't just any grocery shopping day though.. it was TEN FOR TEN DOLLARS DAY. We could mix and match a bunch of things, ten for ten dollars. Great things we got for a buck included:
1. Half gallons of milk, in multiple varieties. (We stocked up on 3 gallons. There is one gallon left. We drink too much milk.)
2. Jimmy Dean breakfast sausage.
3. Half gallons of ice cream.
4. Cans of Campbell's soup.
5. Tortillas.
And then, we took an unprecedented step into adulthood. We bought salad. I hate salad. Jared doesn't like salad much either. But I was standing in front of the vegetables and they were arranged like beautiful farm-ish jewels, all colourful and pretty, and I thought... Man. I wish I could eat those.
So I took the bold step of buying a salad mix, and because we had to pay the three bucks or whatever it was I'll be damned if I don't eat EVERY SINGLE PIECE OF LETTUCE in that bag. Of course, its not like my salads are healthy. I also bought croutons and a creamy dressing. But still. Its a start. All those dumb health TV shows are about gradually changing into a healthy lifestyle, so... I mean. We've switched to whole grain pasta. We eat 12 grain bread. We have a vegetable with every meal. Those have got to count for something, right?
Now if we could just stop eating ice cream, drinking half a gallon of milk a day, grabbing unhealthy snacks all day... We'd be golden.
And now because I can't resist and because Jared said it was okay... I present you with:
OLIVER, The Amazing Standing Baby!
At the beach, no less!
P.S. He has started to sit alone, by himself, FOR ALL OF A MINUTE. Amazing.
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