Does Anyone Recognize This Illustration?

I was going through some artwork of mine from when I was a child, that I brought home from Mom's house, and found that I had drawn on the back of this. Very vague memories of a book I loved started coming to me, something about a cat that ends up very fat by the end of the book. But for the life of me I have no idea what book that might be.

Anyone recognize it?

Gotta Do Something Creative.

So look up, a new banner is born.

Back.

And soooooooooo tired.
This one family shot will have to suffice.
Proof that I'm still here.
Still pregnant.
Still waiting for that magical moment when the relentless exhaustion and ill feeling go away.
Until then, I'm really only operating on about 70% at any given time.

J.J. & Alla: Out.

Off to Nana's.
See you in ten days.
Peace.

Ten on Tuesday.

1. What a beautiful day. One of those where you don't leave the house, you just play and straighten and read books and snuggle and put away laundry and play teacher and read many more books and everyone feels the goodness of home and there are no meltdowns in the entire day.

2. Alla to Daddy, Daddy I'm asking you a question: Where's your clabicle? (clavicle)


3. And another conversation she had with us one morning: I need to find my reskipe (recipe) for my dinner. I just need some wipes (wipes are her imaginary everything) so Alla can make some potatoes.


4. She is finally getting the hang of the Escalade. And LOVING it. Probably doesn't hurt that all the four year olds in the neighborhood will gladly drive her around. Or that, because of this car, we are now the kool-aid house in the neighborhood. Alla has major cool status around here. And thanks, Katie, this shirt still fits her! As a kind thank you, Alla will drive your daughter around next month.

5. I am a little perturbed that MY car has a huge dent in it from last night's two-inch-around hail, but Alla's car is in pristine condition in the garage. Grrrrrrr. My brand new car.


6. I forgot how exhausting is the first trimester. How you just long for sleep and more sleep. At lunch, which seems to get earlier and earlier every day, whether because of my constant hunger or constant need to sleep, I'm silently pleading with Alla to finish so I can put her down and find my super comfy spot on the couch downstairs with the remote and my borrowed copy of Waiting for Birdy, which I love.


7. In all honesty, though, I've always loved our breakfasts and lunches, just the two of us. It feels like less of an ordeal than dinner, and it's quiet, and we chat. And I remember those early days where I'd try and sneak in a sandwich (which I hope to want again someday) while she laid on her Gymini or while she sat next to me on top of the table in her bouncer. Way before she actually ate food.


8.Alla and I venture off to Nana & Pappi's this weekend by ourselves...just the airport/airplane experience alone will probably do me in for a good few days. We'll need to get there like three hours early lest we (I) have to run at top speed to miss the flight anyway. Oh, did that happen to me the first time I flew alone with her? Hmph.


9. I am a horrible pregnant gardener. Feel free to comment on how that's ok. Problem with being pregnant is that nothing in my garden actually sounds good. Not zucchini or parsely, not pesto, so all the basil still remains even though ages ago I bought pine nuts. But tomatoes, which are finally coming around, sound lovely, so I do hope those are ready when we return from our trip. I'm so sorry, garden. I just don't want much to do with you now that that other human is inside me.
10. Alla and Dada. She sometimes still calls us Mama and Dada. I missed that.

Announcing...Pondegore.

You who know us well thought sure we'd pick another cracker when we got pregnant again, something like Ritz or Graham or Cheezit. But, alas, this time around we have a beautiful, smart, wonderful, amazing daughter who did the naming for us.

So, allow me to introduce that ten week bulge in my belly. That one's name is Pondegore.

That name is all Alla's creation.

And she's pretty protective, too. Like today when we went to the doctor again and the midwife whipped out the doppler and Alla said, What are you doing? And then proceeded to lay on my belly while the kind midwife searched for Pondegore's racing heartbeat.

Perhaps the laying helped. It was 180 beats per minute.

So, since we Killins' are not finder-outers, let the guessing begin. Girl or boy?

Keeping Cool.

Hope you're all keeping cool somehow. It's hot here.

The Giving Tree, by Shel Silverstein.

This is how much Alla "read" to her Daddy last night, and then again to me before nap:

Once there was a tree...
and she loved a little boy.
And every day the boy would come
and he would gather her leaves
and make them into crowns and play king of the forest.
He would climb up her trunk
and swing from her branches
and eat apples.
And they would play hide-and-go-seek.
And when he was tired, he would sleep in her shade.
And the boy loved the tree...
very much.
And the tree was happy.
But time went by.
And the boy grew older.
And the tree was often alone.
Then one day the boy came to the tree
and the tree said, "Come, Boy, come and climb
up my trunk and swing from my branches
and eat apples and play in my shade
and be happy."

I'd say that's the first third of the book.
We asked her how she got so smart, and her reply?
From American Sign Language.
She said it.

Ten Years.

Love you, Ron. With all my heart.

xoxo