31 Awesome Things in 31 Days: Thing #31—The Grand Finale!

No cake this year—just a weird looking S'more on a homemade chocolate chip cookie.

Well, we did it! We really did finish 31 Awesome Things in 31 Days (or thereabouts....in any case, we did it all between my birthday and Dave's, when we were both still 31), but it always takes us longer to blog the last Awesome Thing as it turns out. Dave writes up the big day here.

31 Awesome Things in 31 Days: Thing #30—Celebrate Donut Day (belatedly)

The book David checked out from the library from which we took our donut-making recipe. These two dudes are definitely way skinnier than I would expect them to be after reading their little narrative blurbs about how much they love to eat everything in this book (and for breakfast). Their shirts are untucked, but still. (Furthermore, doesn't the guy on the left look like a poor man's Ben Affleck undercover with a Magnum PI stache?)

We originally planned to make homemade donuts for Donut Day last Friday, but that day suddenly got super booked with other Awesome Things (see Thing #28). Instead, we celebrated the day belatedly on a Sunday late afternoon (and continued celebrating well into today with delicious day-olders).

We were also excited to have an excuse to use the biscuit cutter that Dave's mom sent us home with two Houston trips ago. (The donut holes were made using a sanitized lid from our dry-erase board cleaner.)

Deep fryin' some good ole' Texas donuts. David got me a candy thermometer for the occasion (which is nice, because I'm always having to guess temperatures when I fry tonkatsu, so now I can tackle that Japanese dish with more confidence). 

The three dippin' sauces: vanilla frosting (turned into more of a glaze), chocolate frosting, and sugar-cinnamon mix.

Naked freshly baked donuts.

One chocolate and one vanilla glaze. Yes, ma'am.

Can you taste it, folks? Can you? Because it was DELICIOUS. 

A poorly taken picture of some delightful little donut holes.

Uh...the donuts might have been for dinner, so I tried to balance ourselves out by making Dave and Hollie drink a smoothie composed literally 70% of straight pureed frozen strawberries. I think we drank a whole carton of strawberries. Donut day comes but once a year, doo-dah! Doo-dah!

And that's how we ate way too many donuts in two days and why someone should probably come lecture us about feeding donuts to a 19-month-old for dinner. Next time we'll have to have some jimmies on hand to make our donuts more festive. We decided it might be a fun Grover family tradition to make homemade donuts after the first snow each year, so we can dip them in hot chocolate. Nice, right?

I should also mention that David has been avidly reading Michael Moss's Sugar, Salt, Fat: How the Food Giants Hooked Us, which is a terrifying book about how America has gotten duped into eating sheer garbage cleverly designed to look like foods we should feed ourselves and our children. Every time we go to the supermarket together, I hear Dave muttering under his breath as we walk through the aisles of canned and boxed goods, "Sugar....salt....fat....sugar....salt....fat...bliss point...sugar....salt...." It reminds me of when he read Thomas Hardy's Tess of the D'ubervilles when all he would do was walk around house sighing, "Tess......oh, Tess......poor Tess......."

The only plus we have for the above concoctions of sugar and fat is that at least it was all homemade. Still, we're back on our flexitarian diet this week (two vegetarian meals a day and one omnivorous dish if we feel like it). And we've been pretty good with our anti-processed-food diet, save for Hollie's goldfish fixation. Hey, what am I justifying myself to you for? Quit judging me and be jealous of our donuts!

And that's how we did Thing #30: Celebrating a belated donut day with homemade donuts, baby. ACCOMPLISHED.

31 Awesome Things in 31 Days: Thing #29—Getting Back to Our Roots

This is how the Grovers play Pick Up Sticks.

David blogs about our adventures in manual labor and yard work (and manages to include some good pregnancy cankle jokes) here.

31 Awesome Things in 31 Days: Thing #28—Visit Turtles, Eat with Friends, and Survive a Glucose Test

Hollie introducing herself to our friend Liz's turtle, the lovely Brigitte Bardot.

Yesterday was a big day for Awesome Things. We actually originally planned on just making donuts to celebrate National Donut Day, but we never had time to realize that one. Instead, we visited a good friend and her turtles, we had dinner with some other lovely friends who invited us over unexpectedly, and David and I were both asleep by 11:00 p.m. (I was actually asleep before 10:00 p.m. We all woke up this morning feeling incredible).

Note the bandages on both of my arms and the back of my hand, as well as the broken window taped shut with part of a diaper box.

Adventure #1: My Glucose Test

I embarked on this one on my own. Basically, I hate getting my blood drawn, and I definitely don't have the veins for getting blood very efficiently. Pregnant women (at least at my clinic) have to take a glucose test in their third trimester to test for gestational diabetes (I think?). It consists of showing up after fasting for a few hours (in my case, I ate a big breakfast at nine and didn't eat anything until heading to the hospital at 2:00, which is when David got done teaching classes) and then drinking a large styrofoam cup of orange glucose solution (it tastes like melted popsicles that come from a bad popsicle batch). You have five minutes to drink it, and I always try to down mine in six or seven big gulps. It's gross, but I've had grosser.

Then you sit in the waiting room for an hour, after which the phlebotomist takes your blood and you're free to go. The first part was easy. I drank my orange drink, headed to the waiting room, and studied for my qualifying exams (well, what I really did was text my mom for an hour, but I promise I did get some pages read in between texts).

When it came time to take my blood, however, the phlebotomists were perplexed. I have a history of getting poked several times whenever I need a blood sample. When I was diagnosed with mononucleosis as an undergrad, the doctor had to get the sample from the back of my hand because my arms were no good (even the doctor admitted the blood sample was unnecessary—they knew what I had when I fell asleep in the waiting room five minutes after showing up). When I gave birth to Hollie, the nurses had to stick the Hep-Lock IV in the back of my hand, too. That was really the worst. Contractions are bad enough, but having contractions while nurses poke your arms with needles repeatedly to no avail? Ugh. It was the worst.

So I wasn't surprised that the phlebotomists were having trouble. Usually, though, one of my arms ends up working. Not this time. The poor guys were so polite and nice, too. I felt bad. It had to be sort of a blow to the ego that they couldn't get my arms to give up any blood. I laughed at all their jokes about how they would have to resort to cutting off a piece of my arm soon to get what they needed, but I really was sweating it deep down. I hated getting poked so many times, and my arms felt raw. It was time to try the top of my hand.

They made me switch chairs to a comfier spot, and the phlebotomist told me to rest my head and just relax. I looked away until I felt the initial sting and tried to answer all of the questions the two phlebotomists were asking me to keep my mind off of things. I don't know if it was my anxiety or the lack of food all day or just the two vials of blood these two guys had just taken out of me, but I suddenly felt super dizzy and nauseous. It was when I started to see little spots that one of the guys asked, "Hey, are you okay?" and I realized that I was absolutely going to pass out. I somehow got my mouth to say, "Uh....I feel a little sick and dizzy....actually.....uh...." and the guy replied sort of urgently, "We'll stop! We'll stop! Hang on!" and I found myself being wheeled forward by one of them so they could recline the chair and help me put my feet up.

It was embarrassing. They were very nice, though, and I was fortunately the only person in the lab at that moment. They gave me a cold, wet paper towel to put on my neck, and then they made small talk with me to keep me awake, asking questions about everything from my hometown to what brand of shoes I had on (they were Roos). Dave and Hollie showed up at that point, and everyone just chatted until I stopped looking like I was going to fall down if I stood up. I made David go way out of his way home to stop by Taco Bell (our first visit there since I was pregnant with Holls) and I had myself a burrito and a double-decker taco to get my body going again. And that was the first adventure.

Hollie eating at the "little kid table" for the first time ever.

Adventure #2: Dinner with Friends

We were just complaining about not wanting to make dinner when some good friends called and told us to come over. We did! These are some fabulous friends we have from church, and they are famous for their homemade pizzas. I think we ate ten Margherita pizzas while we were there. It was something like that. With basil picked right out of the front yard, literally seconds before we sat down to eat. So delicious!

Their daughter is a year and a half older than Hollie, so watching them play is endearing and tragic. Hollie follows V. throughout the house, but doesn't really understand directions well. The "kids' table" was in the next room over, and I was nervous that Hollie wouldn't eat so far away from Dave and I. I was wrong—she loved it. She ate really well, too. I really think Hollie would be far less fussy and whiny all the time if she had an older sibling to look up to and follow.

 Adventure #3: Visiting the Turtles

My good friend Liz has an incredible garden (which was still looking incredible, even after the hail storm!), and she also happens to be a turtle rescuer. It all started several years ago, I think, when some neighborhood boys saved a turtle from a dog and asked Liz if she could heal it. Then they brought more turtles. The first four were all named after the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, but then Liz had to branch out with new names for all the turtles that came next.

People found out she was taking care of turtles, and all sorts of people started dropping them off. The turtles started to mate, so now she gets a new batch of baby turtles every summer (in addition to the rescued turtles she takes in). I have no idea how many turtles she has now. Adventure #2 made us a little late coming over, so we missed the turtles' feeding time and many of them had already slipped into their sleeping quarters under the pavement. There were still three or four lingering when we showed up, though. Hollie loves turtles, so it was fun to introduce her to the real thing.

Spotting the turtles eating their food under the patio furniture.

My lovely friend Liz introducing Hollie to the turtles.

Holls was a little shy at first, as she usually is with close encounters of the live animal kind. Here is her signature point that she pulls out whenever she sees something interesting yet intimidating.

A close-up of Brigitte Bardot, just as glamorous and genteel as her namesake.

Hollie really wanted to "pat" the turtle, but only with Dave's help.

Seriously, am I still in Lubbock? Liz is a master gardener, and I didn't even take any pictures of her secret Asian garden on the other side of her house. I repeat, these pictures were taken after the hail storm that sent everybody else's yards into hopeless ruin. 

The other great thing about Liz's garden are all of her wind chimes and ornaments that add music and art to her plants. Hollie is standing by one of my favorite chimes.

Liz showing David some of her knick-knacks hanging on the fence. I just want to point out again how green and living everything is. Seriously. This is West Texas. The same town I live in. How does she do it?

Hollie standing next to her favorite chime in the garden, a funny little thing that lives in a clay pot. She would run her finger down the chimes and then shake her booty to the lingering jingles.

Anyway, I'm so grateful for Liz that she enjoys having young company and isn't afraid of toddlers smelling her lilies or ringing her chimes. She really is incredible. It was a really nice way to end the day, and I loved being able to show Hollie so many green and living things. And the turtles, of course.

So, Thing #28: Survive a glucose test without passing out, eat an impromptu dinner with friends, and visit our friend Liz and her turtles = ACCOMPLISHED.

Have you noticed that most of our Awesome Things are really just us trying to get some "awesome" to rub off on us from our legitimately awesome friends? Seriously. Homemade pizzas and turtle refuges are what is really awesome. We're just showing up and appreciating them.

Oh yeah, and can I mention again that I was asleep by 10:00 p.m.?

31 Awesome Things in 31 Days: Thing #27—Explore Hail Storm Aftermath and Celebrate Survival with a Game Night

A downed light pole in the nearby park. Fortunately it fell this way rather than toward the houses across the street. 

Yesterday morning was exciting. Hollie and I woke first, and we immediately went to the windows and looked outside. I didn't have my contacts in yet, so all I could see were some large fallen limbs and tons of leaves scattered all over everything. The storm had also successfully mown down and mulched all the dead grass and weeds in our front yard, so our house actually seems a bit improved overall. 

It wasn't until later that David noticed the gaps in our backyard fence and the broken window in our living room (we had the second set of blinds closed all morning, so it wasn't until David realized he was enjoying a "delicious breeze" as he read a book near the window that he saw the glass on the floor and the huge hole and spiderweb cracks in the window).

Preparing for our post-hail-storm exploration expedition. Notice the closed blinds on the left. Yeah, one of those window panes is completely busted out, but we won't know it for another several hours.

This poor guy's house is always in shabby shape, but the window is now almost completely gone. There were three or four holes, and the blinds got pretty blown apart, too. We're actually not sure if someone still lives here, though there was a clearly a car in the driveway on this morning.

Downed tree limbs and debris filled the streets. You can see the city workers cleaning up the fallen limbs and trees from out of the park.

Heavy rain usually turns our local park into a pond, but it is particularly wet right now. I anticipate some visits from some cattle egret and black ibis soon. Maybe we'll even get some night herons! They are so fun to see up close in our park. 

It was hard not to feel like we were in a zombie apocalypse or something. I can't imagine what the aftermath of a real-deal natural disaster would be like. Everything was sort of hushed and grim, in spite of the buzzing mowers and chainsaws down each street. David kept pointing out the houses we would take over if we really were post-apocalyptic survivors. Watch out, neighbors—especially those of you with gorgeous front porches and reading nooks we can spy through your windows!

One of the many tragic tree casualties in our favorite park.

This one made me want to reread Jane Eyre. 

We had to make several detours in our exploring because of flooded walkways or tree limbs blocking the path.

The hollyhocks, however, were still standing. This we are pleased to report, especially since we're always trying to explain to Hollie why these should probably be her favorite flowers.

More limbs blocking the paths.

The city was hard at work since the crack of dawn taking care of large limbs crossing over roadways. Here is a huge limb that has already been chopped up and pulled off the road. 

Hollie was more interested in Bert than in fallen trees, as it turned out.

I don't know if you can see, but a majority of these dorm room windows have been smashed and covered with plastic wrappings.

These dorms were probably the most grim edifice we saw all morning. It made the school seem like a ghost town.

More downed limbs across campus.

Some siding or something that had blown off the Art Building.

Anyway, the rest of the day was spent studying (for me) and taking care of the house (for Davey). We were exhausted by the end of the day, but our good friend Jo still came over to play a quiet game of Scrabble. We were all weary from a week of summer school and a severe thunderstorm night of little sleep (poor Jo had to survive it on her own, which is really quite terrifying considering how loud the hail was and how sharp and fast the wind was against our homes—70 mph winds!). Still it was nice to socialize a bit, albeit quietly.

Documentation of life after the hail storm.

Thing #27—Go on a post-hail-storm exploration expedition and celebrate the after-storm calm with Scrabble = ACCOMPLISHED.

P.S. I realize that in light of recent real natural disasters this post is a bit ridiculous and irreverent, but it really was a big deal for us West Texans. Some people had it far worse than our neighborhood, too. Some people lost parts of their roofs, one friend had three windows of her SUV knocked out, another friend had their glass patio table shatter, and someone said their neighbor's trampoline just blew away. I also didn't mention the number of squirrel and dove bodies we had to walk around on our expedition. I'm glad it wasn't a tornado, and I'm grateful for the local weather service's periodic Twitter updates that kept us informed.

31 Awesome Things in 31 Days: Thing #26—Survive a Severe Hail Storm

A pile of grape-to-marble-sized hail that got trapped on our porch.

We were going to make some summer goals as our awesome thing for this night, but we were surprised instead with a severe hail storm. David tells the story here.

31 Awesome Things in 31 Days: Thing #25—Declare War on the Mouse (Mice?)

Hollie might have mousie hair, but she isn't the mouse we are battling. She's the one we rewarded with a cupcake for being such a trooper this week.

David blogs a brief accounting of our mice battle to end all mice battles here. (Pleased to report that it is has been 72 hours now, and no mice!)

31 Awesome Things in 31 Days: Thing #24—Save a Bird, Walk a Dog, Feed a Family

An injured dove we found on our front porch after a day of adventuring.

We had some different ideas for today's awesome thing, but it turned into another day full of unanticipated opportunities instead. All three of us had the chance to act like champs, and I can say for my husband and daughter at least that they certainly were super champs. Allow me to enumerate specifics:

David's Good Deeds:

1. He let me have a nap this morning, during which he got Hollie ready to take a walk to campus with us, after which I was dropped off to study for my exams all day while he played househusband.
2. He went to the store with Hollie (no mean feat), fed her lunch, and cleaned up after all her messes (which included pouring out a sippy cup of milk on our armchair and sitting on a melted granola bar—see picture below).
3. He made two pans of his Mom's lasagna (one for us, one for our friends who just had a new baby) while watching Hollie.
4. When we got to our friends' house and dropped off some dinner, Dave walked our friends' dog (who hadn't been out of the house much since the new baby arrived) while Hollie and I played at a nearby park.
5. He also walked our friends' dog down to another friends' house who had just taken a big test this morning and brought them the rest of the cookies we made last night.
6. He got Hollie fed and managed to find a good box for bird rescuing while letting me scarf down some dinner first.
7. After an entire day of running back and forth and doing good deeds and keeping us fed and happy, David has also managed to go to the gym as I write this post. In fact, I think going to the gym is the first thing he has done for himself all day. He has seriously spent his entire day serving other people. He's even going to stop by the store on the way home to bring me some steel wool for Getting-Rid-of-Sir-Mousie Tactic #6. A serious champ, David is.

Dave's documentation of Hollie's granola butt.

Hollie's Good Deeds were just as impressive, because she is just a baby:

1. She slept almost the whole time David checked out his summer reading list from the library, and when she woke up she was lovely. The library was mostly deserted because the summer semesters don't start until tomorrow, and Hollie respected the silence for the most part.
2. Hollie went on several car rides today and never moaned or groaned about it. 
3. She ate mashed potatoes and pizza for lunch like a champ, and then she ate a lot of lasagna for dinner like a champ (she's sort of a fussy eater, so we love it when she eats).
4. She also shared a lime popsicle with David and entertained us with her sourpatch faces. 
5. She was just all-around lovely, in spite of being dragged here and there all day. Dave says she deserves a cupcake tomorrow. I agree. We all do.

Trying to save an injured bird.

As for me, I really only did one good thing today besides studying for my qualifying exams, and it happens to be the only thing that actually got documented (besides Hollie's granola butt).

After we dropped off the other lasagna and David walked our friends' dog, we came home around 7:00 p.m. to find a mourning dove on our welcome mat. I saw David walk up the steps with Hollie in tow and his keys in his other hand when he suddenly stopped and looked really confused. I thought maybe we had forgotten something at our friends' house. Then I looked down and saw the very frightened and very much not moving bird looking at us from the front door.

We both quickly backed away and decided to go into the house from the back. Ironically, the friend who just had the baby who was eating our lasagna volunteers at the local wilderness rehabilitation center, so I knew what to Google when we got inside the house. (Their dog David had walked tonight was actually an animal rehabilitated in a local shelter.)

I also ran across this helpful website with adorable pictures that tell you what to do if you find an injured bird. David got us all fed while I dug out an old towel we could part with, and then it was back in the car for Hollie and my chance to live out something I've dreamed about since I wanted to be a veterinarian at age 8—I came to the aid of an injured animal.

Gently placing a towel on the bird to help it stay calm. I'm not sure which of our hearts was beating faster at this moment.

Once the towel was on the bird, I scooped it up (David coaching me from the driveway to keep a "firm grip," knowing that I can be a little bit flimsy-fingered under pressure or when I'm nervous) and placed the bird in a shoebox Dave had poked with holes.

I guess this is what my "concentrated" face looks like. I'm sure this is how I look when I am occasionally asked to play hymns on the piano at church. "Don't mess up.....don't mess up.....don't drop the box with the little birdie in it...."

The wilderness rehabilitation center was on the south end of town, marked by a long cement wall with an animal mural painted on it (and enough prickly pear plants and red yucca growing in front of it to keep anyone from seeing about 75% of the mural). There was a tiny shack for dropping off the animals with a large, adorable seal on the door with a blue jay on it. When I opened the door, a loud buzzer went off that nearly made me drop my box (with the mourning dove suddenly moving wildly within it). I quickly entered the door and shut it to cut the noise, and my dove and I both settled down.

Inside I found four cages big enough for small animals surrounded by signs in bright colors asking that all cats and dogs be taken to the nearby animal shelter. The cages looked a bit weary. One in particular looked like two raccoons had mated in there and then simultaneously combusted. Aside from the cages, though, the drop-off shack was kept in neat order. While I waited, I filled out a card with information on our dove, and then I read over the "Wish List" written in colored chalk and cutesy handwriting listing several supplies that patrons could feel free to donate. There was also a wall of free educational pamphlets and invitations for 4th- and 5th-graders to take a tour of the center and fill out some fun worksheets on local animals.

Finally, a kind, middle-aged woman stepped in and asked me some questions about my bird. To my enormous respect, she opened up the box and used her bare hands to pick up the dove and inspect it. I just kept thinking, I wanted to be you when I was twelve. After a brief inspection, she carefully placed the dove back into the box and said they would see what they could do. The dove had flapped its wings in a promising way. We deduced that the nearby tree full of grackles probably had injured it from the looks of its back. When I mentioned the grackle tree, the woman said, "Oh, yes. And these mourning doves, they're just so darned friendly and sweet. They don't see it coming." I immediately repented of all the times I had cursed the mourning doves from eating all the bird seed we put out for the finches.

Swapping my injured dove for some free literature on animal rehabilitation.

I'm not sure what is to become of our little dove friend, but I did like getting to see the South Plains Animal Rehabilitation Center. As soon as my friend with the new baby feels like putting in some more volunteer hours, I think I'd like to go with her. 

And that is how Awesome Thing #24 ended up including saving a bird, walking a dog, and feeding a family. ACCOMPLISHED.

P.S. This is actually not the first animal rescue adventure I've been on, but I have no room to relate the other story. But Sharon, if you are reading this, I have certainly been reliving all evening our midnight white ghost kitten rescue adventure in Idaho Falls.

P.P.S. The only person we came across today in need of help that we neglected to aid was a middle-aged dude Hollie and I met in the park while David was walking the dog. He was wearing nothing but a pair of ratty old jeans and some sneakers, and he was casually swinging a very large hammer around as he lurked through the park. He looked a little homeless, truth be told, what with the no shirt and barely any pants and all. To my complete terror, he spotted Hollie and me and made a beeline toward us, swinging his hammer all the while. I could actually see headlines flash before my eyes about the woman accosted in the park in broad daylight with a hammer to the face by an insane shirtless man. I was just about to grab Hollie and run when the man shouted at me in a heavy Texan accent if I had seen something that had blown off the side of his house (I couldn't pick up quite what it was that blew off the side of his house...I can't even begin to imagine what he might have been looking for). I guess he was looking for it so he could hammer it back to the side of his house. I said I hadn't seen anything but that I'd keep my eyes open. Then he left. I was on alert mode until David showed up with the car. So, yeah. That's the one dude I wouldn't help out. Maybe if he had been wearing a shirt and wasn't swinging a hammer around like he was Bruce Dern in one of his more insane roles.

31 Awesome Things in 31 Days: Thing #23—Make Footprint Art for Hollie's Grandmas

Hollie wasn't sure what to do think about having her foot painted. She was really nervous and curled up her little toes at first, but then she hesitantly asked for "more" after we cheered on her first footprint.

Spoiler Warning to all Grandmas: This post reveals an art project that will be sent your way in the next two weeks (we have to wait a few days to wait for the paint to dry). So, you know, you can totally read this, but if you want to wait and be surprised you might want to close your eyes for the pictures or something.

Oh, but if my mom is still reading, the above picture is also awesome. David found a smoothie cup perfect for toddlers at Target with a twisty straw inside that Hollie can't perpetually pull out and shove back in (her favorite pastime with straws). We've been using my new blender you gave me like a fiend, and this is Hollie drinking down straight blackberries, strawberries, banana, apple juice, plain yogurt, and honey. She loves smoothies. Thanks so much for my awesome new blender!

We live pretty far from our families, and it seems like Hollie is growing like a weed. I know this is hard for Hollie's grandmas, who only see her once every few months. Hollie also has two great-grandmas who she sees even less. So we decided it might be nice for Holls to make a cutesy footprint art present for each of her grandmas and great-grandmas.

The timing for this project was tricky. We had to do it just before Hollie's bath, which is also at sort of a sleepy time of day, and Hollie does not like to wait for her bubble bath. We had one shot for each plate—no chances for a redo. 

I had seen this idea here, and we decided to make the art a little more permanent by baking them onto plates. It also made the painting a little trickier, as those of you who have painted on ceramics before well know, but it also made the footprints show up even better, I think. Plus, don't all moms and grandmas love decorative plates?

I was sort of surprised at how big Holls's footprints were—I think I still think of her as a baby, and this experiment was sort of a shock to my system that my little baby is actually a sturdy-footed toddler.

After Hollie went to bed, David and I went to work baking cookies for some friends who just had a new baby this weekend, mopping the floor (more on this momentarily), doing laundry, cleaning the bathroom, and turning Hollie's footprints into robins.

David is really an artist when he isn't a writer, teacher, and rhetorician. I love doing arts and crafts projects with him, because I know this is a side of David that always gets set aside in the daily grind. I'm not kidding: David is unbelievably talented. I feel like it's one of his best and most attractive secret talents.

Our finished birdies. I love how each one has its own little character. They might not be super fancy, but hopefully Hollie's grandmas will find a little place for these plates, so Hollie doesn't seem quite so far away.

Painting with David was really fun. He made me do two of the plates, even though I far more trusted him to do all four. I was a little nervous at first that maybe these wouldn't pan out or be worth the $15 or so that we spent on paint and plates. But as the little birds started to form, it was hard not to be endeared by these little guys. And I am a bit of a sucker for things like making permanent imprints of baby footprints. It really didn't take long and it didn't take a lot of money (especially considering we made four of these).

It was a pretty awesome Sunday altogether. Dave and I were both busy during church, and Hollie only cried once during nursery (we always ask) when one of the little boys kept trying to hug her (this seems to happen whenever Hollie is around little boys her age—it's bizarre. She hates it). I did some reading for my qualifying exams, we all took naps, the floor is liberally doused with peppermint oil and water as Getting-Rid-of-Our-Mouse-Friend Tactic #4, and we feel like we can go to bed with good consciences tonight. It's not often that we wake up Monday morning so well put together. It feels good.

So it is on this pleasant Sunday evening (almost Monday morning at this point) that I declare Thing #23: Make cutesy-wootsy footprint art for Hollie's grandmas and great-grandmas ACCOMPLISHED.

(I'll let y'all know if the peppermint oil works with our mouse problem. We're getting pretty desperate at this point. Desperate enough to try hippie remedies.)

(Update: Just after I posted this, I saw our little mouse friend run through the kitchen, hopefully on his way out. I will choke you with peppermint fumes, Sir Mouse. Get out of my house!)