My kid loves to 'wing (also known as SWING to those of us who have understanding of the English language and full control to use an "S" whenever we feel the need). Every time we pass the park shouts of, " 'WING! 'WING! 'WING!" fill the car. Each time we get in the car at the back of the house, she points to the neighbor's swing set and says, " 'WING! Uh-huh!" while nodding her little mullet head emphatically. We can't pass a swing or anything resembling a swing without some chatter.

A couple of weeks ago we were excited to stop at a garage sale that had a Parents-Choice-Award-Winning-Flip-Up-Storage-Seats-Cup-Holders-Extra-Long-Handle Radio Flyer red wagon (No compass in the stock or thing that tells time, though) for $2 (which is WAY BETTER than the $100 they charge you in the store). We were excited for the deal. Ella was excited because she thought we were at the people's house to 'wing on their 'wing set in their yard.


Did I mention my daughter likes to swing?

Anyway, I've been asking Todd since the beginning of time (or, at the very least, since start of summer) to get Ella a swing. I guess guilt finally gave in because Ella now has a swing.

You know those great castle-like sets that rise from the ground like another city and have all those cool doorways and crosswalks? You know, the ones that cost a couple of thousand dollars and proves just how much a parent loves their child? The ones where you could host your child's preschool while simultaneously having a dinner party on it and never cross paths with a child?

Yeah, we didn't get one of those.
Instead, we got one of these:

The kind that hangs from a tree.

By itself.

Where you can't have friends over to share.

Nevermind about dinner parties.

But, whatever.

Don't get me wrong. This kind of swing is just fine to meet our little addict's daily need for swinging when we can't squeeze out a park play alllllllllllll the way down to the park 3 minutes from our house.

SIDEBAR: There are some days with a toddler when 3 minutes away is just too much to handle. (I feel the collective nods of sympathetic mothers everywhere. Word.)

So, Todd braves the mosquitoes and performs some minor acrobatics to get the swing hung in the perfect tree (which may be ours or may be our neighbor's. We're not quite sure. We're just waiting to see how that one plays out...).

FINALLY! The moment I've been awaiting! We take Ella out, place her in the NEW 'WING and she is delighted! You couldn't have found a happier child. While we push and discuss why we hadn't done this sooner *ahem* we watch Ella's wispy mullet hair fly in the air and her smile reach from ear to ear. Then, she slowly puts her chubby little wristless arm up, points to the neighbor's swing set and says,

"SLIDE! Uh-huh! Yeah!"

Anyone care to guess what the design flaw is here?!?

(FYI-These feel EXACTLY the same when you are reaching blindly into your purse...)

We have a cat.
We have a 17 month old.
They both like to pee. Alot. Randomly. Around the house.
One does it inside a diaper, one does it out. (I'll let you figure out which one.)

Because of this random bodily elimination, I often have to remove and wash the carpet that is in our back entry. Not a rug, mind you, but (what was once) a nice, round tapestry-like carpet that you really aren't supposed to be washing but I have ruined because I have no choice but to wash it every 11th day.
Yeah.
One of those.

Fast forward to 4 a.m. this morning.
We're up.
AGAIN.
(I have a child who DOES.NOT.SLEEP. but that's a whole different blog...) I had just removed the rug in the back hall the night before, so there was a crisscross spider web of carpet tape exposed on the floor.

In the dark house, Ella had followed me around the back hall as I went into the kitchen. And then?
Nothing.
I was alone.
And then I heard it: a tiny scared whimpering of a 17 month old getting ready to let out a full wail.
Yep, you guessed it.
Her little feet were stuck to the crisscrossed spiderweb of carpet tape and she couldn't move.

If only I had a picture.
Or video.
If only it hadn't been 4 a.m. I might've been more inclined to take both.

Spidey has nothin' on me...

MORE RIVETING MARITAL CONVERSATIONS

Him: *rummaging in the pantry*
Him: *rummaging in the pantry*
Him: *rummaging in the pantry*
Him: You know what we're out of...?
ME: Patience?
_____

Him: I think Ella's having a hard time sleeping because she needs more room...
ME: Then perhaps she should buy her own apartment.
_____
via text messages

ME: Hey, did you know McD's has free Mocha Mondays?
Him: Yeah. You should get one while you're out.
ME: Oh. Huh. I forgot it was Monday.
ME: However, the 20 minute line for the drive-thru now makes total sense...

_____

While driving through a random neighborhood

ME: *pointing to a house with a nice patio table & chairs in the front door area* Why would you have a fantastic back yard and put your patio set in the front?
Him: Uh...maybe they like interacting with their neighbors?
ME: Why?
Him: Some people like that...
ME: WHY?!?
______

TV Announcement: Next survivor? Samoa

Him: Well, that's it. I can't do it.
ME: Hm?
Him: I couldn't be on survivor Samoa. All that black sand would be too hard on my feet.
ME: Uh...HUH?!?!
Him: I have very sensitive feet...
ME: *mutes TV* Ok, let me get this straight. The ONLY REASON that you couldn't compete on the next Survivor is because your feet are too sensitive?!?
Him: Uh huh.
ME: Uh...OK.
_____

While looking at Ella's mullet hair...

Him: You know what Daddy needs to get you, honey?
Him: Rubs the baby's hair
Him: Daddy needs to get you a Bumpit for your hair. *smiles at me*
ME: blink-blink-blink
Him: What?
ME: I'm just slightly terrified that you know what a Bumpit is...

I have a secret.
Sometimes I listen to Canadian talk radio.

*gasp*

Look, I (heart) me some NPR just like everyone else, but lately I've felt like I listened to the SAME NPR story every morning (just change the names). (Sometimes it's the same story with even the same names.)

Something had to be done (at least for my entertainment sanity). So I looked to our friends to the North. (In my case, it's a little more East, but whatever. Semantics.)

Anyway...

CBC radio has a show called the Q with Jian Ghomeshi. (You can follow him on Twitter, but FYI he won't follow you back. Even so, he has some good Tweets.) I find the show really fresh and funny with an interesting mix of culture, art, music, book and entertainment news. For example, in the past couple of weeks I've heard interviews with Sonic Youth, the guy who created the game Tetris (one of the greatest games EVER), and David Sedaris. Today was an interview with an artist I've been listening to for a couple of years -- Madeline Peyroux -- and I got to hear her play from her new album. Tomorrow Jian's talking to Bill Cosby.

I mean, could you get more random than Sonic Youth and then Bill Cosby?!?

So there's never a dull moment. It always seems like something uber-interesting happens on the show. Take the Dave Matthews interview, for example.

A couple of weeks ago they had an interview with music man Dave Matthews talking about his new album Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King. During the interview, Dave Matthews goes off on this wacky tale tangent about how he and his daughter scared a mango-eating monkey. It was funny to listen to Jian. It was one of those, "Do I stop this and move on, or let him go on to tell the funky story?" uncomfortable moments.




My first thought was, "Sure, you scared a monkey, but do you have a monkey lamp?!?"

EX-ACT-LY.

No go on, listen to some Q.