Pass the Pigs, Pass the Pigs!!!

Che loves Ben.

So you all know we love Ben Shipley. He's come again to pay us a visit - I mean, who can stay away from Olive for too long? B.S. is nobody's fool, that's for sure. Tonight we're taking a respite from his stay while he ventures out to see some of his other friends. His pal, Lacey, from his MICA days, lives here and was a doll to take the day off for him tomorrow, so we'll part with him for the night. He got here on Tuesday afternoon and introduced us to our latest vice: Pass the Pigs. Listen up, y'all: this is the stuff of which dreams are made. While no brain-bender like Quiddler or Trivial Pursuit, my longtime love, it's maddeningly addictive and fun, fun, fun. It has also taught me a valuable lesson: it's a good thing I'm not a gambler. Pass the Pigs is basically a dice game, but instead of dice are two bean-sized plastic pigs that can land in all sorts of nutty positions (my favorite? Double Leaning Jowler. I've already begun to devise a group Halloween costume - The Snouter, The Razorback, The Pig Out, etc., to commemorate my new favorite pastime). So what if a baby can play it?

This is either a Leaning Jowler or a Snouter. Tough to tell.

Speaking of babies, she's adopting an amended sleep schedule thanks to the sage teachings of Marc Weissbluth in his book Healthy Sleeping Habits, Healthy Child. For the record, I am totally in the cry-it-out camp. I know there are schools of thought that believe this causes long-term emotional damage, and believe me, this goes through my mind as I cringe, listening to her cries at night. Aside from the occasional teething pain, it's usually just her wanting to be entertained in the wee hours and not genuine hunger, pain, or any other need. We're standing firm and it's beginning to get better. Lately she's only woken in the early morning in the 5 o'clock hour. Pushing her bedtime up an hour to 7 o'clock has also been beneficial. Weissbluth explains that this is often a good remedy for a bad sleeper; waiting until your child is showing signs of fatigue is waiting too late, so as hard as it is to tuck in a pleasant goon, I've gotten no protests from her, so so far, so good.

Tooth number six is just poking through, making four on the top and two on the bottom. She just started wearing shoes for the first time; I broke down and bought her some Robeez boots - darling little cream-colored leather things with suede soles and furry lining. They look super warm and don't fall off her feet. I don't need another stranger telling me my baby's feet look frostbitten. She's standing more and more on her own, testing her balance and seeming proud of her accomplishment. And this morning I was I heard her say "Papa," our name for Rob. Almost as exciting, when I got home this evening from work, the handyman (whose name I do not know) was busying himself in our bedroom, drilling window-sized panels over our drafty windows. No lie - I saw a halo over the man's head. This means a toastier bedroom for us!

As for me, I'm trudging through some art projects, which I ought to be doing now, but can't seem to get more motivated. I still have a few weeks left. It's just that it's hard to get too excited about painting a Star Wars poster when I've never even seen one of those movies. I'll be sure to post the finished product, though, so be on the lookout!