The saddest post you'll see all week- mama.

Henry spends 95% of his time asking if he can watch TV. (This is why I miss our basement- out of sight, out of mind.) We try to limit TV time to less than an hour a day. And I prefer to reserve that hour for the grumpiest time of the day- after naps and before supper.

Today Henry asked all day and I told him he could watch Word Girl when he got up from his nap if he came straight downstairs without any whining at the top of the stairs and directly outside our bedroom where June naps. He complied and came straight downstairs and asked to watch TV.

But poor baby Juner did not fare so well this afternoon. She woke up after only an hour and a half nap. I fought her for a half hour to go back to sleep before I gave up and brought her downstairs. I turned on Sesame Street to entertain her because she was eating up my precious half hour nap (no one's got it worse than mama). She was such a pitiful ball of sad that I brought her on to the couch with me for a snuggle. And in the first time in about a year, without the help of a 105 degree fever (the only time Henry has ever cuddled in his life), June actually cuddled me back for a half hour. Poor kid must be feeling bad. Or maybe Elmo has completely rotted her brain.

Even after I got up to start supper, she remained like this:

That is one pitiful baby.

Looks like this gugger needs someone to come and cuddle her full-time. Life has really got her down. Aunt Jenni, after UNC wins tonight, you two can come be sad together.

Art projects- Henry.

Last night mama and papa were reminiscing about the two best kids in the world (hello- me and Juner!), when they realized large parts of our lives were fuzzy or nonexistent. The human brain only has so much capacity for ridiculously cute. Good thing mama keeps this blog. And if you didn't think she jabbered on enough in the past, she's made a conscious decision to up the jabber, so that she has a record of all the things we do. I think secretly she hoping she can just give us the blog when we turn 18 so she doesn't have to buy us presents.

It's been a while since we've had a craft update. But now that the weather is nicer, we're playing outside more at school and don't complete as many crafts. Plus, we don't really craft much in this house due to my complete lack of interest. I was pretty proud of this cow though.

This tooth (while inexplicably sideways even after mama tried uploading it several times) is the definition of my interest in craftwork. A few light swoops of the crayon is all I have time for. There are cars to be parked.

I did like making this pig though. It involved gluing and painting. Mama glues with me occasionally, but does not have the guts for paint. She says that is why she sends me to school.

Now for more jabber. Mama is pleased that after last week's propensity to glue myself to her and refuse to play alone, I am back to my usual activities of parking cars and working on puzzles for long stretches. My favorite puzzle is my puzzle of America- all the states are the pieces. But I call it my "House" puzzle. That's because when I put it together I ask, "Who lives in this house?" It's a stretch for mama to come up with people we know in all 50 states, so instead I know that "Brett Favre is from Mississippi" or that "Elliott Smith recorded Either/Or in Oregon."

Mama also has a good time listening to me park cars. We've mentioned before that I don't have dolls, but I still get my share of pretend play in with my cars. Lately, my cars have all been named Basil or Tobey- as in the mouse sleuth and dog in the Great Mouse Detectives- my current favorite movie. Mama also caught me today quoting "One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish." My favorite lines are the ones that end "Don't ask me why, go ask your mother." Except today when my cars asked me questions, I responded, "I don't know, go ask Mister Andy" or "Don't ask me, go ask Miss Becky." Before my nap, mama read me this book and when we reached these lines (there are about 6 instances in the book), I had to explain to mama that "I call my dad 'papa.' " Or "some people call their mother 'mommy,' but I call you 'mama.' "

June has been battling a cold and teething in the past week. Mama calls her a "hot mess." Mostly because she still refuses to wear a hair barrette, and often er long hair falls over her eyes and gets stuck in the pool of snot on her upper lip. A lovely look for a little girl. But when she's not feeling poorly, June is quite the trouble maker.

We try to be vigilant about the baby gate up in the hallway, because June can crawl fast and always makes straight for the stairs. But she's pretty good about climbing and descending stairs on her own. She has mastered the belly slide. She knows she's not supposed to play on the stairs by herself, so when she does make the break away sprint for the steps she usually sits at the bottom yelling until someone comes to get her. And as soon as someone comes, she lets out a high squeal and takes off up the stairs.

This is similar to her behavior on the train table. Mama says that I used to climb on the train table too. But it was mostly out of necessity when a car left my grasp. For June, it is solely for the sake of being seen. If I don't alert a grow-up to the fact that June is breaking a rule, she'll yell until someone finds her and then look mighty pleased as she is removed from the table and placed in baby time out. (We have to be consistent with rules with a 3-year-old in the house.)