I prayed with a monkey last night.

Sedona has adopted one of Jordan's old stuffed animals. A purple faced monkey is now an active member in our daily activities. We buckle the monkey's seatbelt. We save a seat for the monkey at the table. You can imagine how this goes on and on.

But the best part of the ritual caring for the monkey is just before we say goodnight. I tuck Sedona in, kiss her, hug her, make sure she has everything necessary for a good night's sleep (3 favorite blankets, a babydoll, her quilt to cover up, her binkie, some water, her music) but then I have to put pants on the monkey.

Pajama pants. Jordan's old pajama shorts. Now, the monkey doesn't wear clothes the rest of the time but come bedtime - put some pants on for goodness sake. (? is this really the rationale? is there even a rationale here when we are dealing in monkey pants?) S/he has been spotted wearing Air Jordan's though but again, without pants. So why the pjs? I haven't the foggiest idea. I made the mistake of throwing the monkey's pajamas in the wash one night and had to go fish them out before anyone was going to get any rest.

So last night I kiss her, hug her, say a short prayer and turn to leave when she shouts "PRAY MY MONKEY MOMMY!"

So yes, I knelt, held the monkey's hands and said a short prayer.

How did it come to this? Talk about those moments that freeze in your mind and you wonder
"is this a defining moment in my life?"
"is this a testament to my love of my child?"
"is this maybe the dumbest thing I've done in the last 5 years?"
"wow i feel like a dork."

Who knew . . .

Who would ever imagine that a conversation about genetics, maternal grandfathers' hair patterns, and the eventual creation of the next generation could lead to this insanity:

"And when you get married and have kids, they will have your wife's father's hair pattern."

---"I'll be what I am until I find her." deadpan. straight faced. calm delivery. very matter of fact.

To which Jordan earned responses such as:
"well, you'll be what you are until aren't." Aren't we a couple of stinkers? Toying with semantics and existentialism with a 7 yr old?

"and when you find her, you'll still be you."

"and she'll love you anyway."

------"No, but I'll be what I am"

"Until you aren't."

And so on.

-------"No. I'll be what I am. A solitary man."

oh.

der.

gasp and chuckle all around as we launch (as a terribly mistuned family) into our favorite and yours - Johnny Cash: the solitary man.

Educate your children in the ways of musical icons and you too can enjoy confusion and repetitiveness disguised as youthful candor around the dinner table.

Swimming socks

Darling, isn't she? Ready for anything. Granted we had just pulled out of the dock. The glasses were a cause of great anxiety all day, Jordan's socks ( in the background) really were not the best boating choice, Sedona's suit was peed through about 3 mintues later and left dangling to dry the better part of the afternoon and Jeremy's shoes (also in the background) were violated 10 ways from Tuesday as he sunk into the clay helping to shore the boat for lunch. Not a good day for footwear. But a stinkin cute picture nonetheless.

Spidey fishing

 

A little bit of fishing

While Jordan was on worm clean-up, Sedona took a go at Spiderman fishing (do notice the Spiderman pole in the next picture). Sadly, the concept of keeping the pole in your posession was lost on her and without Dad's firm grip - Spidey would've been a goner. She kept trying to throw the reel and rod and whole deal AT the fish. To each his own, I suppose. . . .everyone has their own particular style and approach, right?

Tubing

Aunt Michelle was kind enough to allow Jordan a co-captain seat in the tube. What we didn't account for though was his complete and utter lack of body fat. He returned from the water a tiny bluish purple shivering mass. "But it was worth it" he'll tell you.

Captain Jordan

Did I mention the shouting of "ALL ABOARD!!!!!" He sure wore that out. But here he is. 

Pontooning

On Mark Twain Lake enjoying Labor Day weekend. No funny story this time. Not unless you count the skinny little boxer/briefs he is wearing as swimming trunks as funny. Or if you might enjoy an incessant shouting of "ALL ABOARD!" for 6 hours. He tried to free the minnows assigned to bait duty, then when denied that PETA inspired act, he went back to fishing . . .but never could quite keep that minnow from getting loose. Funny, huh?

the getaway

There she goes. 

Walkin the weeds

Out of her "house" for a few minutes, Sedona finds some vines to take for a walk. She bounced them along next to her until deciding she'd had enough of me trying to take their picture, dropped them and ran. When I yelled after her "Where are you going?!" I met only with a suprised "I DON'T KNOW!!" and a cackle. 

Sedona's mobile home

We went out on the Katy Trail (similar to the Prairie Path for our Chicago readers) yesterday and rented bikes and the bike trailer seen here. When Sedona first stepped into the trailer she was a little confused - like "ok so what are you wanting me to do here?". So I explained "you get to sit down and Daddy will pull you behind his bike so you get to ride too. Just sit here and get hooked."
Met with a tone of almost sarcastic compliance I can't possibly capture in words -"Oh. Okay."

So she sits, folds hands in lap and exclaims, "My house! My little house!"