my little monkey

I'm not sure if it can technically be called crawling, but Garrett's monkey-like movements sure get him where he wants to go. (And by "where he wants to go," I of course emphatically mean "absolutely everywhere.")

some faces

I was searching online for clipart from The Friend that I could use for my nursery lesson this Sunday. As I was clicking through images in the "people" category (the lesson is on "I Belong to a Family"), I came across the gems you see below.

Why do these children's faces warm my heart so? Well, only because they were cut out, laminated, attached to large popsicle sticks, and used as visual aids for one of the talks nearly every child in my family gave at one time or another during our years in Primary.

Want me to share the talk with you? I still have it memorized.*

Some faces are round,

some faces are thin,

some faces are freckled,


some have a long chin.

Faces of children
are different, it's true.
But each child is special,
there's only one you!

*And speaking of memorized Primary talks, one of these days I'll have to tell you about the very first talk I gave in Sharing Time when I was a four-year-old Sunbeam. (Which yes, I had memorized.)

frozen

I don't know how people got by in the days before the electric freezer, because I'm here to tell you that I'm addicted to mine. It's nothing fancy: just the top portion of my Frigidaire. But, oh! The frozen solid wonders it holds!

There's the chicken (boneless/skinless, as well as ribbed breasts, drumsticks, and thighs), the ground beef (portioned into one pound chunks), the grated cheese, the extra loaves of bread, the vegetables, the hot dogs, the pork roast, the hamburger buns, the fish sticks, the Italian sausage, the flour tortillas, the meatballs, the sticks of butter, and the second loaf of meatloaf my recipe made last week. And let's not forget the ice cubes and the popsicles, necessities to beat the summer heat.

Though I don't have any in there currently, other things that taste delicious frozen are Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Swedish Fish, and grapes. Really. Go freeze some. You won't be sorry.

I like to imagine that one day I'll be the kind of woman that is lucky enough to own two freezers: one attached to my refrigerator in the kitchen, and another (standing or chest style) stashed away in the basement or garage. If ever that day comes, watch out because I'm sure I'll start sale-shopping and stockpiling like the world's going to end tomorrow!

There's only one drawback to the electric freezer (besides the requirement and cost of electricity), and unfortunately it's a pretty major one. If you want to whip that frozen chunk of ground beef into a delicious dish of stroganoff, well, you'd better think ahead of time because baby, that beef's gotta thaw! So while it's pretty fantastic to have the option to stockpile and store all sorts of goods away in the cold recesses of the freezer, you've got to think sooner than thirty minutes before you want to eat to begin the thawing process.

Which means that we won't be eating barbecued pork sandwiches for dinner tonight.

inside and outside

Inside fun, with a game of "now you see me, now you don't":

And outside fun in the park sprinklers:

scanned hand

This

plus

this

equals
this

Also, this?This is the reason why nothing in this house is safe anymore. It is also proof that his latest talent isn't only showcased in the crib.

i am allergic to massachusetts

And so is Garrett. Well, I suppose I shouldn't generalize too much. So let me rephrase: We are allergic to Massachusetts in June. All that green. All those blossoms. Though they're a seriously miserable problem for everyone else in my family, I seem to have gotten away with only the traveling variety of hay fever: I'm fine when I'm home, wherever I may be presently calling home, but the minute I hit the road for some fabulous summer weekend destination, I come down with a horrible case of the sniffles. Like the time, two years ago, when we inadvertently planned a trip to Mascoutah, Illinois, during what turned out to be a weekend of high spring pollen counts. I never thought I'd be so grateful to know that allergies run rampant in my extended family as well, but, see, my uncle had a stash of Claritin he was willing to share with me.

Anyhow, all sniffles and wads of Kleenex aside, we got home last night from a weekend trip to the Berkshires. The reason for the getaway was a party, held at the Darger family's barn just outside Pittsfield, hosted by my aunt and uncle to celebrate the recent marriages of two of my cousins. I love the city, but love getting away sometimes, too. It was nice to be able to relax, and even nicer to get to visit with so much family. The barn party was a blast, full of delicious food, which was grilled to perfection by Blake, and baked, sliced, and arranged by everyone else. Even though every ounce of in-between time was spent blowing my own nose or wiping snot from Garrett's, we had a wonderful time.

This is the barn. Isn't it fabulous? Inscribed inside above one of the doors is the line, "It was the kind of barn children liked to play in," from Charlotte's Web, which I thought to be most fitting.

And here we are, taking a break from the constant nose-wiping and sneezing.

There's no doubt that trees grow in Brooklyn, but I do sure love the fact that, now that I'm back in my cement-surrounded home, my head is less congested and I don't have to blow my nose as often.


***
While we were gone, my computer-savvy brother created a fabulous new header for my blog. Isn't it awesome? Thanks so much, Tyler!

naptime

But who wants to take a nap when you can stand up and explore the nether regions of the crib...


...while pulling silly faces...


...and letting out silly screams?


(At least he stopped licking the wall, which is what he was doing when I first found him not sleeping.)

hazelnut & ginger sue

This is Hazel.



She's in my nursery class, and never hesitates to answer questions and share personal experiences during our lessons. She also comes to the weekly playgroup where she likes to romp around the playground equipment with her little friend, Bruce.

Hazel is full of sparkling energy and dazzling personality. Every time I see her, she runs up to me, happily yells, "Lindsay!" and gives me the most delicious hug. Not only is she my good friend, but she loves Garrett. It gives her no end of pleasure to plant herself two inches away from his face and say, "Hello, Baby Garrett. How are you? Do you like me, Baby Garrett?"

A few days ago I was at Hazel's house. She fell asleep on the couch during my visit, and consequently missed saying goodbye to me before I had to go. After I'd been home for about a half an hour, the phone rang. It was Hazel's mom. Hazel was in tears, distraught that I'd left without saying goodbye. It was thought that maybe a phone call to her friend Lindsay would help cheer her up. We had a lovely conversation, despite the heavy, sad sniffles coming from her end. I assured her that she was still my good friend, and that Baby Garrett still liked her. I like to think that our phone call sort of made up for our missed goodbye.


This is Hazel's little sister, Ginger.



She's still too young for nursery, but not for playgroups at the park!

Ginger is quieter than her exuberant sister, but she likes to sit on my lap, tell me the new words she's learned, and show me her toys.


Hazel and Ginger are moving away to Virginia in a few days. I can't even begin to tell you how much I'll miss them! In my wildest dreams, I never imagined that a pair of toddlers would grow so attached to me -- or that I would grow just as attached to them in return.

It's a good thing I've got some inexpensive bus options so I can go visit them. Temporary goodbyes are much more manageable than permanent ones.

allergic

I think my blog reconstruction is just about finished. You like? I'm digging the 3-column layout, the color scheme, and the overall cleanliness of the template. What I'm NOT liking is the fact that, for the life of me, I can't get my cute Brooklyn Bridge masthead to fit in the header space. I'm crossing my fingers that I can enlist the help of my brother who, last time I checked, could work magic in the realm of PhotoShop. If all goes according to plan, it will hopefully be back soon.

So, remember those red, Childlike Empress eyes that Garrett was sporting in yesterday's Abs of Steel video? Well, after a long night of rubbing, crying, and not much sleeping, this morning those same eyes, now all gunky and set against his already pale white face, looked like something out of low-budget horror film.

Fearing a bad case of conjunctivitis, I took him to the doctor where the diagnosis turned out to be allergies. I hadn't considered this possibility, but I suppose it makes sense - nearly everyone I'm related to suffers from horrible seasonal allergies. We were sent home with eye drops and some antibiotics (his eyes might also be slightly infected, so to cover our ground, he'll be getting a round of penicillin), and instructions to dole out regular doses of Benedryl to keep him from scratching his eyeballs into unrecognizable shreds. I'm taking him back tomorrow for a follow-up appointment to make sure the swelling around his eyes has gone down.

And if this wasn't enough, right after our appointment we had to head over to the lab to get the blood work done for his 12-month well-check up in two weeks.

Poor boy.


And now, if you'll excuse me, Red-Eyes here desperately needs the gunk cleaned out of his eyes and will then, based on the screams I'm predicting will result, need some quality time with his mama.

under construction

It's summertime, which can mean only one thing: construction. I don't know about you, but I can't think of a more perfect time to do a wee bit of redesigning here on the blog. So for the next [hopefully short] while, Adventures with Lindsay might look a little messy. Consider yourselves warned.

Unlike road construction crews, however, I'm all about turning a wait into worthwhile entertainment. So to hold you over, here's a little video of Garrett showing off his abs of steel. Pardon his red eyes; it would seem that his weekend fever was the result of a little cold.