We Are Busy Bees

Coming up with the titles for these posts is probably one of the most fun parts of updating the blog. You see, today's is a play on words in regards to both the fact that we have had a fun-filled Wednesday already as well as a teeth-gritting dig at the beehive being built in the eaves of my carport.

First, the damn bees! I cannot handle this one. I am a do-it-yourselfer. I want things done, and I generally want them done my way. Failing to obtain a like-minded cohort (aka clone), I would rather just have it done on my timeline (immediately) and to my specifications. Bees, however, are something I cannot abide. The way they buzz around your ears and face trying to decide if they want to sting you, they travel in groups, they smell your fear. I hate them. I have never been afraid of snakes or spiders (don't really want those guys on me, but...) or ghosts. But serial murderers (thank you, procedural cop shows) and bees--them, I hate and fear. When the landlord was here the other day, I showed him the one hive I could see. He asked me to get a can of spray, do it in and knock it down with a rake. No, thank you. That would be your job. I had Matt do it. Problem solved....or so we thought (insert ominous tones here). There is another hive; this one is in the frikin' walls. I can see them scrambling over one another to enter into a tiny hole beneath one of the clapboards. I can see them flitting from side to side under the roof of the carport as I plot my timely exit from my driveway-parked car and make a mad dash to get the baby from her carseat and the twelve treacherous steps to the front door. I hate them. I cannot share a home with bees. Matthew has reassured me that bees cannot dig through the walls and make it into the house. They don't feel the need to avenge the deaths of their fallen comrades. But he is having a hard time killing this hive, and since it doesn't bother him, he cares very little about this difficulty. As much as I prefer to just do it myself, for this task, I need reinforcements...

Next, our aforementioned business (that's busy-ness, not biz-ness).
1. Aurelia fell and hit her head again, this time on a table corner; this time, breaking the skin a little. I awarded myself Worst Parent of the Day as she stumbled around a three-foot area, not sure if she wanted my comfort, to lay on the floor, to hug a bear or to just sit and cry huge, chest-heaving sobs. The adrenaline kept her from her morning nap.

2. We took a little trip to the park to meet some other moms. It took Aurelia about fifteen minutes to climb up four stairs, not because it was difficult, but because there was so much to distract her. She had a good time wandering around, but her favorite is still the swings. Stick her in that little bucket, and she wants to go higher and higher. I hold her legs, pull up and let go. Laughter--the best medicine... Although she was well over the fall by this point, I was happy to see her uncranky.

3. I tried a new recipe while she slept. (She fell asleep in the car on the way home, and I think I hear her just-awakened chatter already...). It was for something called Peanut Butter & Jelly Muffins that I took from a recipe book called Deceptively Delicious. It is a cookbook filled with ways to use pureed vegetables in regular, edible foods. This one uses carrot puree--who knew? Peanut butter pretty much covers up the taste of anything else, and carrots are pretty sweet anyway. They're not bad--didn't cook very well, but I did have to make a few adjustments that could have hurt the outcome.

4. Our photos are here!!! Please go through the 'Photo Albums' link up top there and follow the path to our Shutterfly Share site--way easier than posting them all here. They are beautiful, and a loving shout-out to Lindsey, owner of Bluebird of Happiness Photography in Coeur d'Alene, ID for capturing such a wonderful time in our lives.

It's only two o'clock here; what other shenanigans can we get ourselves into?