Who needs toys . . .

. . . when you have pots and pans? Margie Grace has become too smart for the child safety latches on the cabinet doors that house our pots and pans. Now one of her favorite things to do is pull all of the cookware out of the cabinet and spread the pieces around the kitchen floor (and also around the house! I recently found a lid I thought was lost forever in her bedroom!). She loves sorting small items and the pots and pans are perfect for doing that (notice her alphabet letters in the picture above). She also loves to "cook" and she has a blast with the pots and pans stirring and pretending she is making something delicious. Here is my little chef hard at work.

Peanut, Peanut Butter

At two years old, Margie Grace has pretty much been eating anything and everything that Neil and I consume for a year now. Everything, that is, except peanuts and peanut butter. At the suggestion of our pediatrician, we decided to hold off on nuts and peanut butter until after Margie Grace turned two. The reason was two-fold: because of the potential choking hazard these things pose for small children and because of the severity of most peanut allergies. We wanted to introduce these things to her at an older age. Over the course of the last month we've decided that it is probably time to show her what she's been missing. And boy has she taken to it! She absolutely loves peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (or "buttah sanwishes" as she calls them). We also discovered her deep affinity for, of all things, boiled peanuts (she calls them "pee huts"). Neil boiled a batch a couple of weekends ago and we couldn't shell them fast enough for her. Proof that she is a tried and true Southern girl! At one point I found her standing over the trash can trying to shell them herself! After Halloween, Margie Grace took her new foray into peanut products further by experiencing the divinity that is a Reece's Peanut Butter Cup for the first time. And like her mommy, she was in heaven. Here's a couple of pictures of MG slowly devouring one of her new favorite candies.

My Little Artist

This fall, Margie Grace began a new Sunday School class at church. We've noticed that her teachers this time around are a bit more ambitious in leading the class in some structured activities rather than just letting the kids have free play. She has previously brought home a couple of little coloring sheets but this past Sunday marked a milestone: she brought home her first piece of made-from-scratch, ready-for-the-refrigerator art. It reads "We thank God for fall" and Margie Grace decorated it with glued-on cut outs of many fall-themed items such as leaves, acorns and a squirrel (Sarah Harper should be proud!). Here is a picture of MG proudly holding her masterpiece, which has since taken its rightful place on the front of our refrigerator.

"I don't wear outfits!"

Judging from the title, you might think this post is about a conversation between me and Margie Grace. However, she has yet to learn that degree of diffiance (she just sticks with "no" and "not"). In actuality, it stems from an exchange between Neil and myself. Apparently, in addition to learning new parenting lessons everyday, I am also -- after six and a half years of marriage -- learning new wife lessons. Let me fill you in.


We haven't had Margie Grace's pictures taken professionally since she turned a year old so when her second birthday rolled around, I decided it was time to make an appointment once again. We also haven't had a family portrait made since MG was a three-week-old infant. The one we took was a very sweet studio portrait of the three of us, dressed in the ever cliche white and khaki. Well, the photo needs to be updated and I decided since I was scheduling a photographer to do MG's pictures that we'd also use the occasion to take a new family portrait. This time around we are doing the photos outside at Kiesel Park. Wanting to look cordinated but not matchy-matchy, I put together something specific for each of us to wear -- shirts and pants that look good together but hopefully won't look like we are trying too hard (yes, I found us a pair of matching Fair Isle sweaters but I spared Neil that shame!).

So Thursday was the big day for our pictures and the night before on the way home from church, Neil and I were talking about Thursday's schedule. Who has to be where when, etc. Because Neil had a meeting prior to our appointment with the photographer I told him "be sure you wear your outfit to Kiesel." The moment was puncuated by a sharp silence before Neil whipped his head around at me and said very plainly "I don't wear outfits!" What?!? So I continued, "Yea, you know, the outfit I bought you to wear for our pictures. Be sure you wear it to the park." He bristled again and balked at the message I was trying to convey, even sighing in disgust. I didn't understand so I countered with "so what are you going to wear?" To which he explained "Guys wear shirts and pants, not outfits!" I had obviously really touched a nerve with my choice of words. We continued the discussion: me brushing it off and explaining it was just a word and Neil telling me that only men like Richard Simmons wore outfits. "I don't do outfits. I don't do ensembles. I wear shirts and pants. You wear outfits. Margie Grace wears outfits. I. Don't. Wear. Outfits!" OK, gotcha, point taken. So Thursday morning, while reviewing our plans for the day I took caution with my reminder. "You know those very manly dark brown pants and red plaid shirt that I bought you at the mall this weekend? You need to make sure you are wearing that when you come to Kiesel. Just pull up and look for Margie Grace and I; we'll have on our outfits!"