Dirty Little Secret

Okay, I lied.  It's not that little.  And for anyone who knows me at all, it's not a secret.

I am not a housekeeper.

No, let's be real here.  In the spirit of, you know, bold blogging and all.  I am a slob.

Don't judge me.  We can't all be perfect.  We all have our dirty little secrets.  Mine just happens to be, well, not so little.

In the background of many of my pictures, you have probably noticed toys lying around. This is not the type of thing I'm talking about, because, let's face it, who can keep their floors toy-free all the time?  It just isn't possible with kids.  It isn't.  And if you're trying to tell me otherwise, I assure you I'm standing here with my hands over my ears and humming.  I'm not listening!

This is not something that is new to me.  I was one of those kids with the bedroom that made my mom want to pull her hair out.  She earned every gray hair that she has.  And she has more of them than you realize.  It was awful.  I'd wonder how I lived that way, except I still do.  More clothing on the floors than in the drawers, and everything that was in the drawers was stuffed, not folded (which is probably why most of my clothes wouldn't fit into them).  Piles of...who knows what...on the floor of my closet.  Bags...blankets...toys...trash (especially tags off of new clothing, but do those really count?)...everywhere.  You get the picture.

So, of course, the worst thing I could hear from my mom was, "Go clean your room."  This translated to, "Go spend all day in your room picking one thing up and putting it somewhere else it doesn't fit until it's time to go to bed.  Or sneak and read a book, but don't let me catch you, or you'll be in big trouble."  On the rare occasions when I actually, successfully cleaned my room, within five minutes*, it would look like a tornado had struck it.

* Okay, I'm exaggerating.  It may have been as many as ten or fifteen.

These days, I have gotten a little bit better.  Living with someone else (and having company from time to time) can do that to you.  But we still have our problem areas.  Mostly, it's the out-of-the-way rooms with doors, where, during a last minute frantic cleaning session, we can toss all of the stuff that's in the way and make the main rooms look decent.  (Normal people would use a closet, but we have so much random junk that it takes entire rooms to contain it all.  This has gotten infinitely better since my brother-in-law put in an easier access door to our attic, but it's still an issue.)

It depends on where we're cleaning, but the worst rooms tend to be the "office" and...our bedroom.

Our bedroom?  Really?  Why?  I mean...shouldn't a bedroom be, well, peaceful?  Restful?  Clean?

Well, yes, of course.  But you know what else it is?  It's private.  When you have company, people don't usually go in it unless the door is open (which ours never is, to keep the cats off of Craig's pillow the bed).  So, when you have a room that's never seen right off of a room that's often used for company...it becomes a convenient dumping ground.  And you end up with something like this:

The bed hasn't been made in weeks (and I guarantee Craig was the last one to do it).  There is a random seat cushion leaning against the end of the bed.  And I'm not going to get into what is on the nightstands, but we don't currently have a trash can in our bedroom and we've both had colds recently, so you can probably imagine.  And then wish you hadn't.

Or this:

My favorite thing here is the baby seat in the middle of the room.  It's broken, by the way, and we haven't used it since...oh, November or December.  2008.  (But we're going to try to fix it.  Because it worked so well for the Imp, and...I can't stand to throw anything away.  Nooooo, really?)  There are also boxes of clothing that I'd put away at one time, but which migrated back out of the closet for some reason.  No, actually the little box has a good excuse - it's maternity stuff.  But the big box?  I have no idea why it's out.  And the white shirt on top of it?  Not even mine.  Or Craig's.  (It's my mom's, and she took it home with her today.)

Which reminds me to give her some HUGE credit, because without her help, our room would still look like that.  She came in today and made sure the kids didn't kill themselves or each other watched the kids upstairs while Craig and I worked downstairs.  Lifesaver.  An extra set of hands can make all the difference.  So, thank you, Mom.  Because I know you read this.

And I'm sorry about the gray hair comment.  Your hair looks very nice.

Or this:

I think this one is my personal favorite.  It shows very clearly my tendency to say, "Oh, I don't feel like hanging this up right now, but I'll come back and do it later."  And then months will pass, and by the time I admit to myself that I was lying when I said that, it will have mutated into something scary.  And eaten a rocking chair.  (Can you see it?  It's sandwiched between the wardrobe and the chest-o-drawers, which, incidentally, yes, I know do not match, but I love them both, so they both stay.)

I decided yesterday morning that I couldn't take it anymore, and I called Mom and asked her to come up.  She dropped everything at a moment's notice and drove an hour and a half to stay overnight with us and watch the kids while we tried to make our house a little bit more livable.  Amazingly enough, I think we succeeded.

The way a bed is supposed to look.  Made up, with fifty-million pillows at the head and a hand-made (by, you guessed it, my awesome mom) afghan at the foot.  The room isn't perfect.  There's still a random baseball glove on top of a book and a printed out e-mail on top of some sort of electronic device that I, um, don't think is ours underneath the nightstand.  And a random bottle of generic NyQuil on top of it, but I guess my husband left that there on purpose.  Two pictures on the floor, waiting to be hung on the wall.  And the photo collage above the bed is one photo short.  But it's so much better than it was before.

This angle shows that there really was a floor under all that junk!  A few minutes ago, I walked around my bed, and had to do a double-take when I realized I didn't have to step around boxes and baby seats anymore.  (Ignore the random Tigger pillow on top of our laundry basket.  Like I said, it's not perfect.)

And, look, oh my gosh, the clothes really did eat the chair!  Or, well, no.  We moved it upstairs so I'd have something in the Imp's room that I could sit in and get up out of, because his PBK Anywhere Chair just isn't working for me anymore.  Especially at 1 a.m. when I'm trying to get him to go back to sleep.  It's hard to get up out of something that's 1 foot off the ground without any hands even when you're not five-and-a-half months pregnant.

Please ignore the random bottle of...champagne?  I think.  Sitting beside the wardrobe.  I've had it for...um...wow.  Three years?  More?  It was a gift at work for a "job well done" (each person on the project got one) while I was pregnant with the Birdie...and I've never really gotten around to opening it, what with one baby after breastfeeding after another baby after breastfeeding after another.  Maybe I'll get to drink it.  Eventually.  Say, in another three years.  They are supposed to get better with age, right? Right?  Well, I guess we'll see.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that glimpse into my not-so-perfect life.  Next week, I'll be posting a video of me trying to get up out of the Anywhere Chair while holding the Imp, his cup, his Larry the Cucumber, and a book.

Or, then again, maybe not.

---------------

Edited:  Craig informed me, after reading this, that the electronic equipment under his nightstand does belong to us.  I was confusing it with something we borrowed several years ago, and apparently did give back.  Thank goodness.  I was really feeling guilty about that.

Trip To Bernheim - 3/7/10

Some of my favorite photos from a road trip we took with the kids last weekend.

I love having my sister in the tree with me!

Or...maybe not.

Bitty Soliloquy.

Sweet little Imp.

Running, running!  So much freedom!

Lying on the ground, "sobbing."  Just like Snow White does, in the Disney movie, after the Huntsman tells her to run away.  Remember that?  So I asked her, "Are you Snow White?"

"No, I'm just pretending!"  Silly Mommy.  Can't you tell?

Coloring in the Visitors Center.

Starting to get sleepy.

Time to go home.

Baby Bumblebee

I'm bringin' home a baby bumblebee...won't my mommy be so proud of me?

Well, we aren't bringing home our Baby Bumblebee quite yet, but we did get a look at her last Thursday.

And yes, I did say her.  We found out on Thursday that our Birdie and our Imp are getting a little sister!

The Birdie was quite excited when we told her Thursday afternoon, although not in the least surprised, which was, well, surprising, since we hadn't yet told her that she was getting a new little sibling.  Somehow, though, I think she just knew.

She was full of questions when she found out.  Remarkably intuitive questions, at least in my opinion.

"Is she in Mommy's tummy?"  (First thing she said when we told her.  I thought this would be a stumbling block - "Did Mommy eat the baby?" - but I guess she picked up somewhere on her own that babies grow in Mommies' tummies.)

"What's her name?"

"I'm going to sing her a song!"  And she got up and danced around the room, singing something about her sister and how Valentine's Day is her favorite holiday and a few other things that I couldn't understand.  It was precious.

Then, just as I was patting myself on the back for raising such an amazing little girl who understands everything there is to know without having to explain it, she asked, "Can I see her?"

And pretty much once a day since then, she will give Baby Bumblebee a hug, and ask if she's going to come out today.  We have to remind her that it will be a long time, still.  This morning, she told me that she wanted Baby Bumblebee to stay home when I went to work.  But I could leave, that was okay.

Ahhh, I'm feeling the love.

The Imp, by the way, is oblivious.  I'm sure he will remain blissfully unaware until the day that we bring home a tiny squalling thing that hogs Mommy for most of the day.  I'm curious interested apprehensive worried terrified to see how he reacts when Mommy acquires a new appendage (and it's not him).

But we are excited about our little girl on the way, who, incidentally, has existed in our minds and our hearts ever since we were expecting the Birdie and we came up with four names (two girls' names and two boys' names).  Yes, indeed.  When we were expecting baby #1, we decided on 4 names - a 1st choice girl's name, a 2nd choice girl's name*, a 1st choice boy's name, and a 2nd choice boy's name.  And when we came up with those names, all 4 of those babies became real people in my mind, even though three of them didn't exist yet, and at the time we didn't know "who" #1 was.  The #2 boy's name has changed a bit since we originally came up with the names, but none of the others did, and now I'm just as attached to that name (and that little boy) as I have been with each of the others.  So as long as #4 is a boy, everything will be perfect!

What?  You mean you can't plan it out like that?  Really?  Haha.  So far, we have been very lucky and it has worked out the way we "planned" (girl-boy-girl) - but if something doesn't go according to our plan...well, who are we to make plans, anyway?  (And we're already talking about another girl's name, just in case.)

Let's just try not to get too attached to this name, because we're really not planning a #5.

* Our #2 girl's name really was only 2nd choice in Craig's mind - honestly, I'd have been extremely disappointed if we hadn't gotten to use it, because it incorporates a special part of my name that my mom shares, too, so you can imagine how ecstatic I am now.

Birth Story: The Imp

Today I am joining Mama M.'s Birthstory Blog Hop with the story from when my son was born.  Sadly, I can't find my daughter's birth story (although I am still looking), but if/when I find it, I will share that also.

My Imp was born on June 4, 2008, at 6:13 p.m. He was 6 lbs, 9 oz. and 19.5 in. long.

I was scheduled for an elective induction on June 4th. I chose that date because it was past 39 weeks (39w2d) and my doctor was on call. Interestingly, the Imp was due on a Monday and induced and born on a Wednesday, exactly the same as his sister, a year-and-a-half earlier.

As with the Birdie, I was told to call Labor & Delivery at 5-in-the-morning (yuk) to find out when they wanted me to come in. With the Birdie, they had me come in right away, and that was what I expected this time. Much to my disappointment, the girl I spoke to told me they were having a "computer glitch" and to call back at 7. I was not happy, and there were a few tears.

At 7:00, I called back, certain they'd tell me to come in within the next couple of hours. (By 9:00 at the worst, I figured.) The nurse told me, "Yes, you're on hold for a room, and we'll call you when one is available." What?! That was not what the first nurse had told me. There wasn't a room for me at all? Now there were a lot of tears.

I called again at 9:00 because I didn't like being at their mercy for a phone call, and the (same, sigh) nurse told me that I was still on hold, but that I was "next on the list," which meant I was going to get in that day (at that point, I had been certain it wasn't going to happen). So I waited a bit more, and just before 10:00, the nurse called and told me to come on in. Yay! (When I got there, the same nurse that I had been bugging with phone calls was the one who checked me in, but at least she was nice about it.)

They got me hooked up to an IV around 10:45 and started pitocin around 11:15. Right after that, my doctor went ahead and broke my water. I was still at 3-4 cm at this point. I'm not sure when I got the epidural, but it wasn't long after that, probably at 12-something. That wasn't fun. Since my contractions really weren't all that bad at that point, I was focused entirely on the sensation of a catheter being put into my spine, which was NOT pleasant. And yes, you CAN feel it going in. I whined a lot, although the doctor did commend me for doing a "good job" (meaning I held still). My response was, "Like I'm NOT going to hold still when you're putting something into my spine!" It did feel like it was off to the left a little bit, and I think that I was right about that because my left side ended up being MUCH more numb than my right side the whole time. Truly, I HATE the epidural, but I wouldn't dare go through labor without one.

The entire afternoon was spent waiting, and waiting and waiting. Starting around 4:30 or so, I could feel the Imp really low. It didn't feel like I needed to push, but it seemed like he was getting close. The nurse checked me at 5:00 and I was 7 cm. The nurse said things could go quickly from there because his head was pretty low, but I was pretty much expecting him to be born fairly close to 8 p.m. because of the whole 1 cm/hour once you’re in active labor thing. She told me to call her back in there if the pressure got worse.

Ten minutes later, the pressure got worse. I knew I was crazy for calling the nurse back, but I did, anyway. She checked me at 5:15 and said, "Your cervix is almost gone, and his head is right there!" I was shocked – I had gone from 7 cm to ready to have a baby in 15 minutes. How scary is that? I mean, if for some reason I wasn't ready, or I if told Craig, "I'm only 7 cm, why don't you get dinner now while there's still time?" Which, of course, I didn't, but still - it was very eye-opening.

My doctor and I had decided ahead of time that we'd let him "labor down" on his own instead of having me push right away. Turned out I didn't have a choice because she had just started someone else’s c-section at 5:15 so she wasn't available to "catch" him, anyway. The nurse said the timing would be "just right," that my doctor would do the c-section then come in and deliver the baby.

So we waited for her, and waited, and waited some more. It felt like an eternity, and I could feel him getting lower and lower with each contraction. Finally, around 6:05 the nurse came in and checked me again. She said something along the lines of, "Oh, yeah, he's right there!" I asked her how far in he actually was, and she measured it on her finger - about the distance to her first knuckle, roughly an inch. Again, I was shocked. And WHERE was my doctor?

At this point, the room became a blur of nurses setting up stuff for the Imp's imminent arrival. My mom took away my cell phone (yes, I'd been texting updates to people this whole time) and the L&D nurse got me ready to push. She had Craig get on one leg and, to my surprise, my mom get on my other leg (at that point, I was beyond being uncomfortable about it – but it was a shame because Mom had been going to take pictures of the Imp coming out, although from a less graphic angle than straight-on. Since they were digital pictures, I figured I could delete anything that made me uncomfortable.) The nurse had me do a "practice push," I guess to see how things were going to work, and right after that, my doctor came in. I pushed for one contraction, and she said he was close, and then on the second contraction, I started pushing and she said, "Okay, he's out!" Amazing. And I guess because of the way the epidural was working, this time I actually felt him come out of my belly - not the pain, but the release of pressure as he came out. It felt really weird, but in a good way because the pressure was causing some nausea that stopped when he came out.

Unlike with the Birdie, they immediately put him on my chest, before he'd been cleaned up, and I got to hold him right away. I was shocked that he was blue-ish, although I guess this is normal because he was crying and he pinked up right away when the nurse rubbed him. It was amazing to get to hold my little boy right away. After I got to hold him for a few minutes and everyone got some pictures, they took him off to clean him up, measure him, and weigh him (he was actually 6 lbs 8.8 oz), then gave him back to me and everyone except family cleared out and I got to nurse him. That, also, was amazing. I didn't get to nurse the Birdie right away because I was shaking/nauseated and I had to be drugged up immediately. He nursed so well right from the start, and he's been good at it ever since.

Oddly, I started having the shaking and nausea right after I finished nursing him and they took him away. I threw up a couple of times, and they gave me phenergan and carted me off to the mother-baby unit. I was in a lot of pain that night overnight, I guess from him being in the birth canal for so long (the pain was in my butt) so they gave him a bottle overnight because I didn't feel like I could sit up to nurse him. I was better by that morning, though, and the bottle didn't hurt breastfeeding any.

We went home on Friday morning, and his weight was still good at 6 lbs 4 oz. At the pediatrician the next morning, he had dropped to 6 lbs even (my guess would be that he didn't pass most of the meconium until Friday because I didn't change any dirty diapers until then, and that caused his weight to drop more after we went home than before). On Monday, he was back up to 6 lbs 4 oz, and by the following Friday, he was 6 lbs 10 oz, so he did a great job of making up for what he lost!

The last paragraph was from when I wrote this up, I guess when he was a month or so old.  I'm leaving it in for nostalgia's sake.

He has been an amazing baby. So far, he rarely cries - just during some diaper changes or if he gets hungry and someone other than me is holding him. He's very easy to calm - usually if I pick him up he will quiet right down. And he has been really good on me with sleeping. He sleeps in a little glider beside my bed and as long as I don't doze off while I'm nursing him overnight, he'll let me sleep for several hours at a time lying down in my bed.

I am so blessed to have my two beautiful babies, the Imp (6/4/2008) and my Bitty Birdie (12/13/2006)!

First photo (or one of them):

First kiss from his sister:

3 Months Old:

6 months old:

9 Months Old:

1 year old:

18 Months Old:

Irony (and some Big News)

I wanted to share some irony (and some news) with you.  I've been wanting to post about this for a while, but it's something that I expected to take a while to write, and I haven't had a lot of time to sit down and write, lately.  With both kids in their rooms, apparently napping (although I keep hearing noises from the Birdie, so this might not last long) I thought I'd give it a try.

My husband and I have been to Disney World three times since we got married.  The first trip down there was our "babymoon," which we took in May 2006, when I was in late 1st trimester with the Birdie.  It was fantastic, except for me being exhausted the whole time.  The. Whole. Time.  Most days (if I am remembering this correctly), Craig and I would go to the parks in the late morning, return in early afternoon, and I would take a nap while he would go back for a few hours.  Also, I couldn't ride any real rides.  I am a ride-a-holic, so that was pretty hard for me.  Worth it, but hard.

Our second trip was in January 2008.  We were spending a week in Daytona (a mistake, because there is almost NOTHING to do in Daytona, although we had a nice time anyway) and decided to take a day and go to Disney World.  My birthday, January 10, to be specific.  At that point, I was 18 weeks pregnant with the Imp, so we just took the Birdie to Epcot and walked a lot.  A lot.  But I wasn't exhausted anymore - that was a bonus.

After we left Disney World, on the ride back to Daytona, I started brainstorming.  We needed to make a trip to Disney when we could stay on the property and have lots of fun, preferably with friends and family there.  We thought November 2009 would be good timing, because November is a slow month at Disney, but the weather is still nice, the Birdie would not yet be three (kids under 3 get in free), and the Imp would be old enough to enjoy it, too (17 months).  We planned and schemed for the next year and a half.  We got my parents and Craig's parents on board and even got one of my good friends, Jaime, to join us there with her family, too.  We weren't able to stay on the property, but we were able to stay close enough that we may as well have been on property - for a lot less money.  It was perfect!

And I was very excited about the fact that I'd be at Disney World and not be pregnant.  I'd have plenty of energy.  I'd be able to ride the rides.  I'd be able to have a glass of wine here and there if I wanted to.

Oh yes.  I bet you can see where this is going.

I'm sure, at this point, it won't be much of a stretch for you to figure out what I discovered just two weeks before we were scheduled to leave.

That's right.  Baby #3 will be here in mid-July 2010.

(Yes, as a matter of fact, we do know how that happens.  But thanks for the offer, anyway.)

We were planning on trying for #3 when we got back from Disney World, so this really did not throw a wrench in anything (except maybe my plans to have a few drinks at Disney, but who needs that anyway?  Probably saved us some money!)  It just pushed things up one or two months.

So, we are very excited, and looking forward to meeting our new little one in just a few short months!

Spinach Artichoke Dip

I seem to be all about recipes these days.  I think it's because that is how I have spent many of my recent Saturdays - puttering around the kitchen.  I guess it's because I like to eat.

So today, I made spinach & artichoke dip.  I made it because we are having company this evening, and I wanted something to stuff into crescent rolls for little finger food things.  After I made it, I tried it out on chips first, and Craig said it tasted like something you'd get in a restaurant.  Woo hoo!  He's not that easy to please.  So I figured I'd share it.

It wasn't too hard, although it took a while, between all the, "I need to sit on the potty" trips and "I want some juice!" and "DINK!  DINK!"  and "Ohs?  Ohs?"  Etc.  But it was pretty easy, and probably wouldn't have taken all that long if I hadn't had so many interruptions.  But we all know how that is!

The only problem is, I'm not sure how much cheese I used, and particularly how much of each kind.  I basically just pulled out all the white cheeses I had in the fridge and used a combination of them.  I had grated parmesan, provolone slices, and shredded "pizza blend" cheese.  I used 3 or 4 provolone slices and chopped them up really small with a knife, so they almost looked shredded.  It would definitely be easier with just plain shredded cheese, though!  But here's what I used and what I did:

Spinach Artichoke Dip

What I used:

- 1 12 oz. pkg frozen spinach, thawed and drained (I squeezed it with my hands to get all the excess liquid out.  It was kinda gross, but I thought it probably needed to be pretty liquid-free.)

- 1 can artichoke bottoms (could use hearts, but bottoms have more "meat" and less leaf on them)

- 1 slice of bacon

- about 1/3 onion, minced

- 1 to 3 cloves garlic, minced (this depends on how much you like garlic.  I used 3, and I love how it turned out, but that is probably a lot for most people.  If you are not a garlic lover, I'd suggest just one.)

- about 2-3 cups (sorry!) shredded or grated (or chopped into tiny pieces) white italian cheeses (like parmesan, mozzarella, provolone-is that italian?-etc.  Best with a blend, I think.)

- 1 egg

- large spoonful sour cream (I used a serving spoon, maybe 2-3 T?)

What I did:

1.  Thaw spinach in microwave, stirring every 25 seconds or so until fully thawed.  Drain by squeezing out excess liquid.

2.  Open, drain and rinse artichoke bottoms, then dice into small cubes.

3.  Cook bacon in small skillet on low-med heat.  Remove and set aside.  Add onion to bacon grease and cook on low heat until transparent, about 2-3 minutes.  Mince garlic into skillet and cook another minute or so.  Remove to a small bowl and set aside to cool.

4.  Add egg to onion and beat.  Blend with cheese in a medium bowl.  Make sure it is well mixed.  Add egg & cheese mixture to spinach and artichoke mixture and mix well.  (I mixed with my hands to make sure it was well-blended and the spinach was broken up.)

5.  Optional:  Crumble bacon and add to mixture.  Microwave bacon for 20-30 seconds if it is too soft to crumble.

6.  Add sour cream and blend well.

7.  Transfer to greased casserole dish and bake at 375 until melted through or bubbly on top.  (So far, I have only cooked it in very small one-serving dishes, and it took ten minutes.)

Serve with tortilla chips and salsa.

Alternately, you could use the mixture to stuff the crescent rolls you can buy, unbaked, at the grocery.  Put a spoonful of mixture into dough before rolling it up, then cook per instructions on the package.  I tried this, and it was good. :)  I was afraid it would leak out the ends because I put quite a bit in, but either the cheese or the egg held it together, and it stayed in place.

Enjoy!  And let me know if you try this, what you think, and if you make any modifications, because I am always looking for ideas!

Nickname Dilemma - Help Wanted!

I need nickname advice for my kiddos.  I would love to post their real names on here, and honestly, many of you (including anyone who read my Oatmeal w/photos post before I edited it) already know them.  But in retrospect, I've decided I'm more comfortable sticking with nicknames right now.  Just to be on the safe side.

I've been referring to my daughter as "the Birdie."  This comes from my infant nickname for her.  When she was about two weeks old, I decided she looked and acted like a bird bobbing around when she was hungry (many moms will be familiar with this, as I've learned it's a fairly common observation during those early weeks).  I started calling her "Baby Bird."  At some point over the next few months, this morphed into "Bitty Bird," because she was on the small side for all of her first and much of her second year.  Although she is fairly average now, size-wise, the nickname has stuck, and I still call her that fairly often.  I will continue to call her that on here.

Bitty Birdie

The advice I need is for my son.  Because my daughter's nickname quickly presented itself to me, I expected something to become obvious for him fairly early, as well.  So I waited.  And waited, and waited.  But the only things that were coming up were "little guy," "little bitty guy," and "baby guy."  Not very creative, huh?  "Baby Guy" has stuck, and I call him that a lot now.  However...that one really doesn't have long-term application.  When he is 3 or 4, it's not going to sound right at all to be calling him "Baby Guy."  So I am wanting something a little more lasting for him.

For the past several months, I've been calling him my imp.  He really is.  He gets this mischievous look in his eye, he grins at you, and then he does something you don't want him to.  My little imp.  My troublemaker.  He doesn't do really bad things - he is very easygoing and doesn't complain a whole lot - but he does do little things that are kind of cute, kind of annoying.  For example, over the weekend, he turned the TV on, and when a basketball game came up, climbed into his sister's Princess chair and started chanting something unintelligable at the teams.  (I suspect he was thinking either "Go Cats!" or "Go Cards!" - except neither team, of course, was one of the ones playing.)  Certainly not a big deal, and really, very cute - but we have been trying for months to get him to leave the tv alone.

So, he is very impish.  He's a little troublemaker, although...not really, I guess.  I just call him that, and he agrees.  :)  He likes frogs...maybe call him Frog?  I don't like that as much.  Any ideas?  Anyone?

Imp?  Frog?  Booger-Butt *?

* Yes, I call him that.  No, I don't think that would make a great blog nickname.  That's one I probably don't want to stick.

A few more photos, to help show his personality a little more:

 

 

 

Does anyone have any ideas?  I'd appreciate any help I could get.  Thanks!  :)