Fashion, Muscles & Smiles

Wyatt has NO fashion sense. I sent him to get some clothes this morning. As you can see, he picked out a green and white striped shirt, his turtle swimsuit bottoms that I bought for this summer, and his slippers. Yeah--that looked real GQ right there--he posed for the picture by sitting on his train table! How crazy is that?

Well, I warned you that I needed a project to show Wyatt that women can use manly tools. Today, he got more than he bargained for when I put my Mrs. Fix-It hat on. I've been wanting the front porch swing moved around back where Wyatt plays. To do that, I used the power drill, hammer, screwdriver, ladder, and brute force to put the hooks into a celing made in the 1950s of the hardest wood known to man (I'll be so sore tomorrow), but it was a success!

The fun part came when I went to move Maw Maw's old iron stove; it was in the way of the new swing, and try as I might, my mom and I together couldn't lift even a corner of that thing. So, I got out the jack--yes, the car jack--and jacked up the front of the stove. Why not? Ingenuity. Then, I scooted two piano dolleys underneath it. The only problem was I'd never used a jack before, so I didn't know how to make it "go down." I had to call my husband. He told me the answer and then said, "Can I ask?" I said, "No. I love you." Doug never knows what trouble I'll get into next.

And finally, yes! Emerson CAN smile! Amazing, isn't it? I thank God for Fisher Price and whoever invented the jumperoo and rainforest mat! Emerson fusses so much that I literally dive for the camera when he starts smiling because I know it won't last.