Eli Baba & The Magic Rocket

Once there was a fun-loving boy named Eli Baba. Eli loved searching for hidden treasures, and on one such expedition, he unearthed an ancient, red rocket. He was quite giddy at his discovery.

Upon touching the rocket, he heard a thundering voice which implored him to make three wishes.


Wasting no time, Eli wished for a cool new hat. He was very pleased with his first wish, as he (and his mother) felt he looked quite fetching.

Perhaps a little cocky about how well his first wish worked out, he hastily made his second wish, for an "older sister to play with"...



In no time flat, a little, blonde toddler appeared. Unfortunately for Eli Babba, she happened to be an expert laundry basket trapper, and chose to show off her skills at that exact moment.






Eli began to question the prudence of his "new hat" wish. His dashing good looks would do him no good in his present situation. (Especially since any instance which caused his mother to oooh and ahhh over him seemed only to renew his sister's determination to upstage him)

He decided to take a little more time to think through his final wish. After what seemed like an eternity, he had it. He wished to trade places with his sister!

And it was so. He made sure to get a firm hold on the basket, so as to overpower her attempts to escape.

Eventually, his arm got tired, so they decided to declare a truce. And they lived happily ever after...at least until his big sister discovered her slobber-coated rocket!

From the Mouthes of Babes...

The first words I hear almost every day are, "It's the morning time, Mommy. Time to gee up. It's the morning time!" (And in case you're wondering, these words are usually proclaimed in my bed, at close proximity to my still sleeping face....and yes, I still find it endearing, even considering the circumstances)

Two nights ago, Jason got a bowl of vanilla ice cream and sat, eating it at the table (where Norah was still working on finishing her dinner). Norah asked him if she could have some butter (not quite sure why she thought he was eating butter with a spoon, as I assure you, it is not a typical Robinson County occurance). Jason was so tickled that she really thought he was scarfing a bowl of butter, that he let her have a taste. She immediately reacted with a gleeful, "That's ice cream!" Since then, anytime she's caught Daddy with a bowl, she's asked for "a bite of butter, please?", in hopes that her girlish charm will score her another taste of his coveted Bluebell!

Recent Cakes

Sunflower-themed shower cake (inspired by an old painting hanging in my Gramps' house--Amanda, you know the one!)

When the client came to pick it up, Norah said, "Happy birthday!" to her. (This is due to the fact that she usually asks for a piece of the cakes I make, and my standard reply is, "Oh, sorry sweetheart...this is X's birthday cake"..and she always backs off, because she can understand that a birthday cake is "sacred". As a result, she now thinks that any cake I make is for someone's birthday, and therefore, has started wishing each one "Happy Birthday" whether it actually is, or not.)

And this one was for butterfly
-themed 2nd birthday party last weekend.

While We Were Away...

Things have been hectic in the County, but I thought it would be a good idea to check in before my 2, faithful readers decide to organize a search party. (If you're still out there, thanks for sticking with us!)

In truth, I just couldn't find my camera cord, and since a couple of you have admited that you only read posts with pictures, I just didn't update until I found it.

As a result, today's post is just a montage of random camera dumpings...sorry if it's a little hard to follow...

This first picture made me laugh...Norah was just trying to be sweet (she loves to pose in pictures that paint her in the "good big sister" light....it's seriously funny to watch her change her demeanor when I pull the camera out) E, on the other hand, was not in the mood to pose...

He was, thankfully, a little more cooperative on Father's Day, when I snapped this picture of him "napping" with his sweet daddy.


For those of you who have commented that Norah "always has her hair fixed"...here is proof positive that it certainly doesn't start out that way.

This was just a few minutes after she woke up. Just long enough for her to grab her favorite library book of the week ("Armadillo's Orange"), climb up in a chair, and begin reading it to Eli (ok, so maybe she was just recounting it from memory...either way, I still thought it was super sweet that she was trying to entertain him, unprompted)

Here is a photo of Eli, intently listening to her story. (While perfecting his crawl-rock, of course...he's a multi-tasker, my boy)

He is up to 3 teeth now (2 on bottom, 1 on top that hasn't dropped all the way down yet, but is definitely sharp enough to bite.



Yesterday, she decided she wanted curlers in her hair. Stoked that she actually has enough hair to put in rollers, I was more than happy to oblige. Granted, it took me all of 3 minutes to roll all of her hair, and she only left them in for about 15 minutes, it was still good, clean fun.

From the Mouthes of Babes...

Norah has recently taken to referring to her bathing suit as her "swim soup". (Heavy emphasis on the "P" in "Soup") It's so funny every time she says it that we almost hate to correct her.

I purchased some pop-ice at the grocery store this morning. I let Norah put several in the freezer (in their liquid state) and explained to her that they would take a long time to get cold enough to freeze. (I believe my exact words were, "And if you take a good nap, they'll probably be ready to eat when you wake up!" Cheap tactic, I know, but it worked!) Naturally, we had to check on them several times throughout the day to see if they were "cold enough". Norah would take my hand and lead me to the freezer saying, "Check on the pop-eyes, Momma? See if they're cold enough?"

Finally, on a more sentimental note...Norah sang her first "grown-up" hymn in church, Sunday. For months, she's been loving "Days of Elijah" (or "Beholdy Comes", as she calls it). I have two versions on my iPod, which she requests just about every time we ride in the car ("Slow Beholdy Comes" and "Fast Beholdy Comes"...both of which, I might add, are the same tempo, however, she at least thinks that the instrumental version is faster). She even requests that we sing it at bedtime (and yes, usually she specifies "fast" or "slow") At any rate, this Sunday, we finally sang "Days of Elijah" in church. Norah's eyes lit up at the first words, and she stood up so proud and tall, and sang every, single word with the biggest grin you've ever seen in your life. I wont lie, I got choked up and cried a little. Seeing my own children, singing joyful praises by my side has been a lifelong dream of mine. It was a truly special moment. (I can vividly remember being a child and singing songs from memory in church, long before I could read, so it was a little surreal watching that come full-circle with my own daughter) Jason and I had to keep from giggling when the song ended and Norah shouted, "Sing it again!? Sing 'Beholdy Comes', again?" She was really sad that it was over. (So, naturally, we listened and sang it a couple more times on the way home!)

Oh, and she currently refers to the church song books that reside in the pews as, "Music Bibles".

My Little Picasso

Ever since our trip to the Children's Museum, I've been wanting to revisit painting with Norah. Last week, I finally decided it was time. I bought some (very washable) paint, some poster board, and some painter's tape (thanks to my good friend, Jamie, who suggested it, to give Norah's masterpieces a nice, even white border.) The tape also served as a great way to anchor the picture down while she was working.


Her first attempt wound up being a big, army green blob of paint. (I know it still looks farily colorful in this picture,but trust me, when she finished, it was all a muddy green) Norah really enjoyed the feeling of the cold, gooey paint on her fingers, so i just let her go to town and enjoy herself.

When she was disappointed at the lack of color in her first painting, I suggested that she try painting with her fingers, rather than her palm, and to be careful not to mix her paints together. She caught on right away, and really enjoyed her new technique.








I kept stealing glances at her painted fingers. I don't know why, but it made me happy seeing her colorful, little hands, so I took a picture to help me remember.










She worked on her masterpiece for nearly an hour. I think I have found the perfect "project" for her when I'm working on dinner. She loved being in the kitchen with me, and thanks to another one of Jamie's brilliant suggestions (to set N up on an unassembled card table, covered with a vinyl table cloth), clean up was a breeze!

Norah was SO proud of her painting. It is currently on the fridge, and several times I've heard her admiring it, aloud, (when she thinks no one is listening) saying things like, "I paint so berry, berry well!" I can't wait to surprise her by framing it and hanging it in her bedroom. I think that will send her over the moon!

Shower Cakes

Last Saturday, I helped give a bridal shower for my little sister, Amanda. Her cake is pictured at left. (I know it might seem like a random choice of design/colors, but I made it to match her shower invitations)









And this one's for you, Sheridan. It is the cake from the Tippens' shower from a few weeks back. They adopted sweet, baby Julia from China, so the hostesses requested a "Panda" cake. The green shoots surrounding the bears are supposed to be bamboo, and the writing on the sides of the cake are the Chinese symbols for "baby".