The monkey thought it was cold outside?

I remember the days when playing in the yard was a song-worthy occasion. My sister and I seemed to have theme songs for all sorts of activities, songs that we learned and songs that we made up. Truthfully, I still do, but I try to limit them to the world inside my head. Not everyone wants to hear my rendition of I Wear My Sunglasses at Night or It's Amazing What Praising Can Do or Great Big Poop.

Apparently, playing on the slide in the front yard needs the accompaniment of a little voice singing Pop Goes the Weasel. It goes like this:

"All around the mulderry bush the monkey chased the weasel. The monkey thought it was cold outside, POP goes the weasel!"

The "POP" punctuates the leap from the slide. Yes, leap. When I tried to sing it with her, I was told, "NO! You don't sing it!" Alrighty then.

After a nasty week of fever and snot, we had a great weekend of outdoor play. Saturday, we loaded up the parade float and walked to the park for a picnic and the playground. EGR took a couple of babies with her and taught them how to slide and swing. Luke had carrots at the picnic, then he got to feel the dirt on his feet for the first time and swing in the baby swing. He loved all of it. When I sat down to nurse him at the playground, Ella took a break to nurse her babies, too.

Aside from a couple of short breaks on the stroller, Ella ran/walked the entire two-ish miles to the park and back. I thought that might lead to an earlier bed time. It did. For Dave, not Ella.

Luker is one step closer to getting around all by himself. He's perfected his technique of slipping out of laps and onto the floor where he can have a better view of Ella's business. I've nearly dropped him a few times when he decided he was tired of sitting and needed to get busy. He's starting to imitate us now, too. When he's upset or "neeeds" me, he says "Mama Mama Mama." I don't know if it counts as the first word, but the noise certainly sounds like the word. He also says, "heeeey" and he completely copied Grandmother the other day when she exclaimed "Oh!" about his diaper situation. He loves having his feet sniffed, kissed, and pat-a-caked. He loves being naked. He HATES HATES HATES having his nose wiped. The first time he rolls from back to stomach will be because he's trying to get away from me cleaning his nose. I know this already.