Breaking the rules (or: Is anyone here a marine biologist?)

I have been trying to come up with a good post for several days now, but because all of my mental energy has been directed at one specific area of my life lately, I have come up with nothing more than squat. Now, normally, I am a rule follower. But today I am flying in the face of bloggy wisdom, as offered up by the wise Aunt Becky. Specifically, the gem about not posting the minutiea of your day on your blog. Because my life is like Dane Cook's stand-up comedy routine right now... I'm sure there's something funny about it, but I'll be damned if I can identify it. So we are left with:

The minutiea.

Of my day.

BUT! All is not lost, because I will follow it with some gratuitous pictures of the Bean. Because everyone knows it doesn't matter if you post the most asinine drivel or a brilliant treatise on achieving world peace... if you follow it with cute baby pictures, no one remembers anything you wrote anyway. So here goes: the major stuff that we've been up to since last week. (Wow, even I'm bored already.)

Last Monday we went to a "dance party" held at the home of one of other MOMS Club members. It was also DH's birthday, and I felt kinda guilty for getting down with my bad self while he was stuck at work. But sometimes these things just can't be helped. When they played kids songs like "If You're Happy and You Know It," Bean remained entirely unimpressed and instead pushed a toy car. But when an upbeat Counting Crows tune came on, he was bouncing to the beat and shaking what his mama --that's me -- gave him. I was so proud! His favorite song these days is "American Boy" by Estelle, featuring Kanye West. He sings the girl parts, but at least he exhibits pretty good taste in music. And note to self: procure some valium and xanax before agreeing to hold a dance party for moms group. *shiver*

Last Thursday I had a consultation with our new RE. We used the babysitter for the first time, and it seemed to go well. As Bean's vocabulary is basically limited to daddy, mom, flower, ball, water, and woof, his follow-up report was lacking. During my appointment, I got a call from an "in school" friend wanting to do something "out of school" that day. It was like she had somehow read this post and knew exactly what I needed at that moment. We couldn't get together because of the appointment, but even after all the emotion, stress, and information overload of the morning, it was her simple phone call that had me smiling for the rest of the day.

Last Friday we went to take a "tour" of the Rainforest Cafe with the MOMS Club. They had a "marine biologist" give us this "tour." Note the liberal use of quotation marks. Although this "marine biologist" was passionate about his work and clearly enjoyed talking to the kiddos, I wouldn't look at him and think, now there's a guy with a degree in science. And I absolutely believe that the Rainforest Cafe has the budget to support a marine biologist position, based on the $17 they want me to pay for a bowl of pasta. But I guess I've seen "The Marine Biologist" episode of Seinfeld one too many times, and all I could think about was George pulling a golf ball out of that whale's blow hole. Anyway, it didn't stop me from giggling at all of the guy's lame jokes, except the one about all the fish being members of the Wu Tang Clan. (It didn't make sense at the time, either.)

Also last Friday, Bean decided that holding onto mommy's hand while walking is for babies, and he now cruises around the house by himself, everywhere. So far, this has been only a good thing. I no longer have a big crick in my back from bending over, and because he can entertain himself for hours just walking around the kitchen island with an old cell phone in his hand, I can totally get caught up on Google Reader dishes and laundry. He is also babbling up a storm with a few real words thrown in for fun, and DH and I like to play a game where we "translate" what he says. He's quite hilarious, that Bean, but he has a bit of a foul mouth.

On Saturday we went to Snoqualmie Falls, taking advantage of the beautiful weather along with thousands of other people. We did the one-mile-round-trip "tourist" hike to the bottom of the falls. I tell you what, I was EXHAUSTED by the time we reached our car back at the top! But proving yet again that I am apparently one of the most out-of-shape creatures in the Seattle area, no one else seemed winded at all. Not the three-year-old children. Not the people who had a couple hundred pounds or six decades on me. Not the women weighed down by heavy, black burkhas. I think we were passed by the same French-speaking family about 8 times. Whew! About my life's goal of climbing Mount Rainier: it probably won't happen this summer.

Yesterday I took Bean and pooch to a local trail for a change of scenery on our walk. When we got back to the car, I noticed the Bean was missing his binky! Oh, I was devastated. See, I have this strange relationship with his binkies. It's part of my neurosis charm. Every three months I replace them (did I say I follow the rules or what?), and I buy two packages with two each of different green and blue binkies. I keep track of them religiously so none get lost or eaten by the dog. I judge my mothering abilities on whether or not all four binkies are accounted for. Anyway, during our walk, I remember seeing an odd rustling in the bushes about two feet in the air. "Huh, must be an Andre the Giant squirrel," I thought at the time. But upon returning to the car and seeing Bean chewing on his shirt instead of his binky, I knew immediately: He must have chucked it into the bush. Now we are down to three binkies for two months, until the next Changing of the Binkies. DH is so sweet, he offered to get another package on his way home from work. I declined, telling him I'm a big girl and can somehow manage to do without. But of course we can't get another package now, because it's not time yet -- then we'd have five binkies, and two of them will match. ALL WRONG. (That's the binkies I'm talking about, not my psyche. Or probably both.)

And as promised, the pictures!!

I was in the shower when I saw this situation developing through the glass door. I opted to let it unravel (ha) instead of hopping out and making it a sopping wet mess.

Bean could spend hours walking around the backyard with a weed in his hand, saying "fow-wah" (flower) and periodically handing it to me. Yep, that's a weed, Bean. At least one of us is pulling them out.

We are getting closer to DH's ultimate dream come true: Bean mowing our lawn.

Clearly I need to get him some Northwestern gear.

Pictures of Snoqualmie Falls and DH disobeying all the signs to go stand near the river at the bottom.

Can you believe I live here? (Not in that car. I mean so close to the Cascades.)

We have got to get this kid to a real waterpark.