This post brought to you by the letter "S"

Some things I have to Smile about lately...

Silas. I've become online pals with Bear's sister's husband's sister (got that?), mother of Silas the Slugger, and they came over for a little play date on Thursday. If you haven't been to Silas' blog, do yourself a favor and click on his name--he's not even two and is ready to join a major league baseball team any day now, and is such a character! He and Keira played some baseball, did some digging, got soaking wet, and overall had a blast:

Sleep. I'm actually getting some! It turns out that as long as she's propped up in the Boppy pillow, Ellie will sleep up to 5 hours at a time at night for her longest stretch, and then two 2-3 hour stretches after that. *heavens open* *angels sing* Keep in mind that I had two hours' sleep before I woke up at midnight in labor, and then was awake for 24 hours before I slept again when we got home from the hospital, and then have only slept in 2-hour increments ever since then. It's still been a whole lot easier than it was when Keira was a baby, but after a month of basically surviving on naps, there are really no words for how awesome it feels to have had 8 (albeit non-consecutive) hours of good sleep last night. Woohoo!

In general, we're finding that Ellie will sleep for at least a little while pretty much anywhere: in the swing, her bouncy seat, Grandma's bed, the car, the bassinet...again, could she BE more different than Keira was?

(I don't know why this picture comes up sideways, but I have to include it...Bear says it looks like she's floating down the river in an inner tube. You can practically hear her saying, "Ahhh...this is the life!")

Silliness. Courtesy of Keira, for the most part--no surprise there. She has always referred to herself in the third person ("She wants to go in the playroom," etc.), but lately she has learned how to use "I" and "me" correctly. Still, she feels the need to repeat everything in the old third-person style afterward, as if she's translating for herself, so she talks like this: "Mommy, I'm hungry. [pause, then in a flatter voice and speaking a little faster] She's hungry, Momma." Or, "Mommy, can I go play outside? [pause] She wants to play outside." It's hilarious. Also, Bear bought her a new comb and brush because a certain someone decided that those are almost as tasty as socks (ARG!!), and she is in loooooove with them. It's just a regular old comb-and-brush set, both black and silver, but to her, they're "magical." And if you ask her what color they are, they're "silverware and black."

Also, random silliness: when I got off the freeway the other day, there was a man standing there asking for change, and his cardboard sign read, "I'm broke and ugly. Please help." He was not, in fact, particularly ugly, but I wonder if that got him more donations?

Stroller. This week, I bought one of those sit-and-stand strollers that have room in front for the baby, and a platform in the back for Keira to (wait for it...) sit or stand on. While I realize that most normal human beings don't get too excited about such purchases, this one has a great deal of potential for me, in both the Alleviating Guilt About Not Walking The Dog Enough Department, and the Feeling Like a Cow Because That Whole "Breastfeeding Helps You Lose Weight" Claim is a Big Fat Lie Department. Our neighborhood is hilly, and it's been impossible to take both girls for a walk because Keira inevitably gets tired and wants to hitch a ride in the stroller, which is always occupied by Elliana because she's still too small for the Baby Bjorn. So, this fancy new stroller should solve both of those problems; now the only problem left is the fact that people in my neighborhood are apparently unaware of leash laws, so there is the constant threat--and frequent reality--of someone's dog running up to us and scaring the bejeezus out of me as I try to figure out how to get out of the situation with myself, the toddler, the baby, and the dog unharmed. (Note to neighbors: I don't care if you think your GIANT BLACK BOXER is "friendly." When it comes running full force at me and my helpless dependents, I reserve the right to freak out. Put a frickin' leash on it!)

Smile. Yes, I'm even smiling about smiling. Why? Because in less than a month, MY smile will be free of braces! Bring on the gum, the apples not already cut into slices, and the soda. Oh, wait--I never really followed the soda rule to begin with. Shhhh.