Son-day: I hear a polka and my troubles are through

It's son-day again, and on Sunday this time. CD left for Vancouver at oh-dark-thirty this morning so it's just me and the kidlets for a few days. (Unless United never finds a plane to take him from Chicago, where he's been waiting for hours, in which case he's going to bag the whole thing and come home.)

Just when I get comfortable with leaving Oliver alone for a few minutes to feed Eleanor and what not, I am reminded this is just never going to be a good idea. As I was changing Ellie's diaper upstairs this morning I heard the sliding door to the backyard open and close. I foolishly assumed Oliver was letting Penguin go outside. He's good at this, and is also good at noticing if she wants to go out or come back in. What I didn't consider is that it's pouring rain and Penguin would rather hold it than go out in the rain. A few minutes later, Oliver appeared upstairs, using his tee-ball bat as a guitar. He spent the next hour dancing around the house, singing a lot of "Hoop De Doo" and generally paying no attention to where the guitar was swinging. The bat is now banned from Ellie's room, as he came much too close to whacking her in the head. I was in the line of fire a few times too. He's so absorbed by music that he doesn't think about anything else.

Coming soon: A Guest Blogger! The person behind the camera for our Christmas card photo would like to tell everyone what it was like to try to capture the craziness.