The Good News...and the Bad News

Mommy and Daddy are off to Oregon (which is up there by Washington!) and I am getting to hang out with Deedaddy and Gram and Nana and Putty...not such a bad gig!  Mommy had some rules for the grandparents...really just ONE!  "Walt had better still be taking naps when we get him back!"  Well that seemed easy enough.  The good news is...Walt took a nap every day that he was with Gram and Deedaddy!   

The bad news is that one day he did NOT get horizontal for the  nap!

After a full day with Collier on the lake...and many proclamations of, "I not tired", We noticed that around 4:00 Walt was sound asleep propped up in the corner.  He slept for over an hour and since we adhere to the time proven rule of "never wake a sleeping baby", we let him sleep!

The Good news is...between Walt and Collier, we had plenty of toys on the boat for entertainment.

The Bad News is..."Sally" is swimmin' with the fishies!

The Good News is...Walt ate very well over Memorial Day weekend.

The Bad News is...detox will begin early Thursday morning!

The Good News is...there are NO broken windows at the Four Seasons B&B in Glasgow.

But it was not from lack of trying!

Some other special moments from my time with Deedaddy, Gram, Aunt Mimi, Uncle Stephen, Collier, Chi-Chi, Great Granny, Uncle Joe, Aunt Kathy, Martha, Susannah, Aunt Mary Louise, and Uncle Jim:

We partied until the cows came home!

HURRY HOME MOMMY AND DADDY...I LOVE YOU!!!

Makin' Hay While the Sun Shines

When the weather is this nice in Memphis, you've gotta get outside while the gettin's good and enjoy it.  So Josh and Walt started off the weekend a little early with a trip to see the Redbirds play on Thursday night. 

Walt wanted to know if he could get in the game, but Daddy explained to him that the players actually did that for a living, so they probably didn't need his help this time.  So he contented himself with helping Daddy consume a gigantic bucket of popcorn. 

And no, they didn't spill it.

On Friday night, Josh and I headed down to the barbecue festival on the river with the Lareaus while Walt and Meredith stayed at Mow-Mow's house with their favorite teacher from school, Ms. Sheena.  No pictures, as we were too excited to be getting out on the town to think about bringing the camera, but fun was had all around.

On Saturday, the big event was a birthday party for the Bush twins (again, no, not those Bush twins).  Their mom, Kate, is much like me (probably why we're such good friends), and has seriously limited their exposure to sugar and other not-so-good-for-you things during their first year of life.  But it was their first birthday, and it was time to go nuts. 

I think Henry (on the left) is a fan . . .

. . . and from the looks of it, so is John!  Happy b'day boys!

Later that night it was hot dogs on the grill and some backyard time capped off by a surprise visit by our friends the Hunts (featuring the lovely Hadley Hunt).  Again, no photos, mainly because we're slackers.  Sorry.

Sunday was pretty uneventful and included a trip to Target for the purchase of Walt's much belated birthday present.  (It's a long story involving the words 'back order.')  Stay tuned for a post covering the assembly and christening of this much-anticipated item.

After that, we had an al fresco dinner at an untested, out-of-neighborhood pizza place.  There was a little girl, who we later learned was five years old,  sitting at the table next to ours.  After she hurled several warnings our way about the dangers of toddlers and knives, she began to warm up to our parenting abilities and our child.  She showed her new-found affection by shuttling freshly minted drawings of her dog and cat over to Walty.  After three such trips and one to discuss the merits of watermelon, a picture of which she had on her shirt, she was forced to leave with her parents.  As they began to round the corner out of sight, she spun away from her parents, rushed to the fence surrounding the courtyard where we were eating and screamed to Walt that she forgot to give him her phone number and then did so in front of about a dozen very amused wait staff and patrons.  She added that she forgot her cell number, but I don't think it mattered at that point.  The entire patio was collectively doubled over with laughter. 

Our son.  The ladies' man.

M-Day in M-Town

We pointed the Jetta northeast on Friday afternoon and headed to Murray to spend Mother's Day weekend with some of our favorite mothers.

And speaking of mothers, as the mother of the child pictured below, I am frankly terrified of what the teenage years hold.  I mean, if he can muster up that much contempt at two, just imagine what he'll be capable of in a dozen years.

As is usually the case when we visit the grandparents, there was lots of activity, too little sleep and more sugar than is normally allowed.

Fore!

Deedaddy suggests that perhaps the bat would be better suited for the task at hand than the golf club.

Uncle Mancil demonstrates "Jerry" for Walt.  I have no way to explain Jerry; all I can tell you is that it fascinated Walt just as much as it used to fascinate me when I was a kid.

The first trip of the season (for the Spickler family anyway) to the Dairy Queen.  Those of you who have never been to the Murray DQ cannot appreciate the magnitude of the event.  The line to the street.  Spending $6 on treats for six people.  Always seeing someone you know.  The incredibly sticky picnic tables.  The pickup trucks peeling out of the parking lot.  And of course, the ice cream (reputed to have the highest butterfat content of any DQ in existence).  Yes, nothing says "home" like the DQ.

Mow-Mow Drops By

On Sunday morning, the Spickler household had the good fortune to entertain the lovely and talented Meredith Jubilee Lareau while her parents made a quick trip to Arkansas.  Tell me she is not lovely.  You cannot do it.

Walt attempted to impress her with his keen alphabet knowledge.   She doesn't look too impressed.

Here she attempts to swipe the "G" while Walt mugs for the camera.

One of those times when we say "Give each other a hug!" just 'cause it's cute.

We interrupt this attempt at dressing Walt for a spontaneous jam session.  (Mere is quite the dancer.)

All dressed for church and watching the boob tube. 

It's Not a Sprint

. . . it's a marathon.  And it's the waiting that's the hardest part (I think it was Tom Petty who said that).  Walt, Putty and Nana decided to support Daddy for my fourth attempt at the 26.2 mile distance this past weekend.  Unfortunately, there is a lot of waiting  involved for the  marathon spectator.  Here is Walt at Mile 12:

Here is a photo of Daddy just after Mile 17.  That explains the irritable and pained look on my face as I attempt to get a 'high five' from Walty.  Walt would have none of it.

On the other hand, he was very excited about the police horse on the pedestrian bridge on the way to the marathon finish.  This officer went above and beyond to pose with Walt for this photo:

And finally, after almost four hours (My official time was 3:53:25) I made it back to Downtown Nashville.  I'll be glad to explain 'net time' vs. 'gun time'.  Just ask.

Here is Walt finally greeting Daddy many minutes and four bottles of water after the finish:

I could go on.  The marathon is such a defining moment.  I'll try not to turn this into a Daddy/marathon love fest, but I can't help but tell you that, physically, I poured everything I had  into this race, and I achieved my goal of a personal best (3:53).  I just want to thank Walt and Ginger for all of the sacrifices they've made over the past six months.  They've put up with a lot.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog . . . about Walt . . .