Busy signals

A little thirsty
Originally uploaded by riblet.

We're getting ready for our trip this week, which is making for a very busy scramble around here. Cleaning, planning, thinking of what to pack.

This weekend we did so much. Ate, rode bikes, yard saled, ate, napped, hiked, ate, ate, ate. I also managed to get a fat lip twice...on the same lip! I felt like a duck-billed platypus (or Meg Ryan), but only looked slightly vamped. The first blow came last night as I settled into bed to finally read Eats, Shoots and Leaves. I know, it's an oldie, but I can no longer pretend to be interested in grammar if I go on a day longer without reading this book. So anyway, I pull the book off of the shelf above the bed and my latest New York magazine (the hefty design issue no less) comes barreling down at the speed of light (or faster, possibly) and nails me, spine first on the left side of my top lip. The pain was so shocking that I thought it had taken a lateral incisor out. Luckily my tooth was fine, but man did that hurt! And the mag left quite a bump. By morning it was not as noticeable, but still there. Then sometime around lunch, Ira and I were playing and he fully head butts me on the right side of my top lip. That kid! I wanted to cry, it hurt so much, but he was totally cracking up and well, that boy's laugh is so contagious. Well, at least my lip swelling was symmetrical.

Ira is so funny (when he's not causing major contusions). It seems like this past week, he's really had a language break through. He's been picking up a lot of words and saying them more clearly now. On Sunday morning before our hike, we were all running around the house, packing back packs and getting food and gear together. Ira comes up to me and grabs my shorts in both hands, looks up at me and says "coppeeee?" Copppppeeee?!" COPPPPEEE?!!" And I'm like, "wha? Ira, use your words, what are you saying? Oh, well. Yes, baby, 'coppee." I turned around and headed into the kitchen, where my mug was on it's side, coffee spilled all over the table and floor. Oh, he meant "coffee." Today, as we sat down to eat breakfast, he with oatmeal ('meaaal!') and me with cereal and coffee, he looks at my mug and clearly says "coffee." What a dear!

Okay, wish us luck with our travels! I am totally going to be that person on the plane with the crying baby. I'm already feeling the evil eyes from my fellow passengers and it's causing me so much anxiety.