We can grow things

Zoe's first strawberry patch is actually producing fruit.

These were picked on Monday evening.

Now if I could get her to actually chew one rather just put it in her mouth.

It's like my worst nightmare come true

Since N was home on Saturday night, I put him to work at the grill. We decided some steak, potatoes and corn on the cob sounded delish. I also was able to find yellow corn. I'm not a big white corn fan and that's all I've been able to find for the entire summer. When I was at the store on Friday, I couldn't resist picking up some ears. Yellow corn on the cob is one of my favorite things ever.

I sent N out to the grill to heat it up. That's when he called me over to the door. Mainly because he likes to provoke all senses of fear in me. I think he figures I'll get used to outdoor creatures, but that's about as likely as self-cleaning mini-blinds.

This is what he wanted to show me.

Well that's not exactly what he wanted to show me. Two of the four jumped off between my screaming and this picture.

Apparently the frogs think our BBQ, while under the cover, is a safe haven. Granted, if I don't know they are there, it is.

I don't wish them harm, but I also don't wish them near me.

While N was grilling, I think he was showing them new places they could be safe. As I went out to water the flowers yesterday morning, I found two of them on the hose.

It could be worse, it could be snakes. That thought brings with it a sense of such fear that I can't even joke about it. I guess the frogs aren't so bad.

Don't let N know that.

Three times the size

As a child, I loved all those magic toys. Anything that would allow me to perform was good in my book.

When Zoe and I went to Michael's to get painting supplies, I saw these on their $1 aisle.

I couldn't pass them up.

I got a couple glasses of warm water. I knew Zoe would be amazed at the little pill turning into a sponge farm animal. Quite honestly, who wouldn't be amazed. A capsule the size of a multi-vitamin being able to contain a foam animal. It's like the 8th wonder of the world. You know, right after the Taj Mahal and self-cleaning mini-blinds. Actually I'm not sure it can compare to self-cleaning mini-blinds because if someone would invent that they would deserve a Nobel Peace Prize and most of my admiration. If you've never had to clean mini blinds consider yourself the luckiest person ever.

We put the capsules in the water and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I know it's supposed to be amazing and all, but a 2 year old does not have enough attention to wait the 5 minutes it takes for a horse to suddenly appear.

Quite frankly, neither do I. I helped them along and we got a goat, rooster, sheep and something that resembled a horse that hadn't had a drink in about a million years.

He just looks sad about being the green horse in a capsule.

His life purpose was to make a 2 year old "nay" in excitement.

He should be proud, she won't even do that for me.

Summer Art Class

This week I decided Zoe and I needed an art project. We went to Michael's to get some supplies and came home to create.

I think our walls will never look better!

We're a family of congratulators

Not only is Zoe now "bumping the rock" she also freely gives high 5's.

Last night I was emptying the dishwasher and she insisted on helping. She would pull out a dish, ask to be put on the counter and would put the dish away. She was so proud of herself putting all the cups, plates, bottles and sippy cups in the right places.

When the dishwasher was finally empty she goes, "good job mommy" and puts her hand up for a high 5.

She cracks me up.

It's like the biker school for toddlers

Zoe is finally at the age where she is repeating the words you say. If you catch her on a good day, she'll even say the words you ask her to say. N has way more fun with this than I do.

Here was the conversation on the way to church:

N: Zoe can you say please?
Z: Please!
N: Can you say geewilackers?
Z: No.
N: Can you say cool beans?
Z: Cool beans, cool beans, cool beans, cool beans

It's her new favorite saying.

That is until daddy mad a fist and asked her to "bump the rock." Now they fist pound as a way of hello.

I'm sure Michael Phelps acted the same way at 2

Saturday was our first swimming lesson. Last year Zoe loved it so much she never wanted to get out of the water. We spent extra time jumping in, playing with a noodle and singing Do You Know the Popcorn Man.

To say I was excited about this year is putting it lightly.

We got in the water, met some of the other kids and our teacher who is named after a character in the Sound of Music. If that's not a girl destined to be a toddler swim class teacher, I don't know what is. It only elevated my hopes of this year's swim lesson to be the year Zoe realized her potential in the water and cemented her a future as an Olympian.

Sometimes I'm known to be dramatic.

Apparently so is Zoe.

The first song of If You're Happy and You Know it was a bust. She cried, wiggled and did whatever she could to free herself from the torture of being in the water and being forced to sing.

Liesl (see, total Sound of Music name) caught on that it was time to do something interactive, so she brought out balls. The kids were to throw them and then mock swim to them as their parents basically maneuvered them through the water. This distracted Zoe for all of 2.5 minutes. Which is the entire amount of time that she enjoyed the class.

She wanted nothing to do with jumping in, nothing to do with London Bridge, the noodles, nothing. It was basically 20 minutes of wailing and gnashing of teeth. She wanted out of my arms, out of the pool and out of this class like 20 minutes ago.

With only 2.5 minutes left in class, we went to get our towels. That's when she decided she wanted back in the pool.

We were by the entry into the pool that is gradual, so toddlers can actually walk in without being in 3 feet of water immediately. This gave Zoe a sense of being much bigger than she was. She wanted to walk to her class. Alone.

She made it to where the water was touching her bottom lip before I pulled her out. The sense of being too short and drowning are foreign to her. After all, we're always telling her what a big girl she is. I guess that means when you're not quite 3 feet, you can still stand, above water, in 3.5 feet of water.

She was beyond mad at me. It took an additional 45 minutes after class for her to calm down.

We only have 5 more days until all those parents in the class can go home and say, "gee Brianna you did so good, not like that other little girl in the ladybug swimsuit." At least we did accomplish something during our 2.5 minutes of swim lessons.