The illustrated prattle

Don't you just love a mom with a camera?

Logan headed back to school this week. This makes me very happy because I finally stop answering the question, "Is it time yet? Can I go to school?" Now I can start answering, "How many more sleeps until I see Mrs. D?" I really hope he never loses this passion for the classroom. (If you're wondering, as Daddy had, what in the world Logan is doing with his hands - that'd be two thumbs up for school.)

The very next day we began life as a soccer family. Logan had a blast for the first 35 minutes - 30 of instruction and 5 of a game. Then the coach decided a few other kids needed a turn on the field and Logan had to wait on the sidelines until he was called back in. The first bench warming went well enough. The second? Not so much. Grandma is blaming the boy on the team that cried the entire hour we were there. She thinks he set the mood. Grandma's are fun.

Fresh (or not so fresh as the case may be) off of soccer, the family headed over to the party store. We had balloons to retrieve and a party to throw. Although her birthday is Tuesday, Meg is pretty much done with the whole 'year older' thing now that her little party and that pile of gifts is behind her. (We blame the rotten quality of the photo on the fact that someone - I'm not saying who - forget to tell the photographer he had to manually open the flash in order for it to go off inside.)

If you ask Megan how old she is you might be surprised. "I am eight," she could say with utter distain that you dare ask a lady her age.

One day, however, she surprised Grandma and told a lady at the store her real age. Grandma, in some bit of shock perhaps, said, "I thought you were eight? That's what you usually say."

Megan sighed and said, "No, I just two. I *want* to be eight."

I am so sunk when she's a teenager, aren't I?

The Uncle and Aunt-in-waiting gave Megan a certificate to Build-A-Bear. She's been there once before and she loved it. When we suggested a certificate to The Uncle he rolled his eyes. We reminded him he didn't have to go make a bear, just send Megan to do so.

It's apparently an immature male response. Logan wanted to buy Meg's Ribbit (the frog she made last time we went) an outfit as a birthday gift. Grandma took him in. He picked out exactly what would look good, helped pay and then handed Grandma the bag to carry.

"I can't be seen with this!" he said in horror. "THAT is a girl store."

About a month ago Megan started picking out outfits from a catalog for "Baby" - her American Girl Bitty Baby. She found the one she wanted and told her grandmother to buy that. After correcting the behavior that would have sent Miss Manners into convulsions, we created the "birthday list."

The list grew and included specifically assigned items. Grandma had two - Baby's outfit and a blue dress. Grandma, being a good spoiling sort of Grandma, looked high and low for a blue dress. Finding none she settled on a demin skirt and a shirt that honestly and perfectly described Megan.

We told her once what it said. Meg smiled. We dressed her in it today for her very first day of 'real' Sunday School. She walked into her two year-old class for crafts and stories. She came home carrying both her worksheet and her project in her hands. She refused to change out of her little outfit for our trip to make her dog (and get it's bed, and it's puppy...and it's bowl.) I stuck her in a tree out front to take her annual black-and-white photo.

"Do you know what that shirt says?" I asked her as she began to quip a series of humorous and yet twerpy remarks. I switched over to the digital camera for a few 'just because I can' photos.

"Yes," she said with a big smile. "My shirt says Cute and Sassy. That's me! I cute. I sassy."