Father's Day Arrival

After a combined total of 16.5 hours in the car (13 of which were driven yesterday), Sophie and I made it to Idaho. She did alright, considering she only slept about 2 hours. I'm surprised she wasn't crankier than she was toward the end.

We hitched a ride up to Idaho tonight, but had to leave Steve in Utah so he could put in his Army time this week. We'll see him next weekend. We've had to do this little arrangement two other times since moving to California, and it still doesn't get any easier. Sophie really misses her dad when he's gone. And I'm sure Steve misses his girls, too. Oh yeah, and I miss Steve, too. :)

So anyway, I'm sitting here in the dark listening to Sophie sleeping and it's just after midnight, but since my laptop says it's 11 PM, I'm still counting this as being posted on time for Father's Day.

Thanks for being such a great dad, honey! I knew this little girl would have you wrapped around her little finger as soon as she came out.

By the way, Sophie's present to Steve was taking eight steps in a row. She'd been taking one or two steps at a time for the past couple of weeks, and we thought that Steve might miss out on her walking progress during the week we were separated. She toddled across the floor at my grandma's house last night while he was watching. Just once, though.

This was taken during our move to California. I can't believe how much she's grown since we've been there.

Doesn't Everyone Wash Their Bread?

I was pulling some wet towels from the washer the other day and noticed that there was bread on everything. Not just crumbs, but chunks of soggy bread stuck to every single thing in the washer.

"What the . . ." I thought. As weird as it was, I wasn't that surprised. If you saw where my washer sits, you wouldn't be that surprised either.

Our quirky little homes here on "chiropractic row" have the convenience of all major appliances in one room: the kitchen. All of them -- fridge, stove, washer, dryer, hot water heater. All except the dishwasher, which should be in the kitchen, but is actually in the dining area. While this has its benefits, it also has its drawbacks, such as having all your clothes smell like Thai coconut curry because you forgot to take them out of the dryer before making dinner. . .

or having all your towels covered with pieces of bread. I think one of two things happened. I often make bread in my bread machine, and when it comes out, I cover it with a towel so it can cool without drying out. The bread towel is usually covered with crumbs, but may have had a whole slice of bread in there this time.

Or Sophie may have found a good-sized chunk of bread on the kitchen floor and threw it into the laundry basket, which often sits in front of the washer. (I don't know how a piece of bread that size would have ended up on my immaculate kitchen floor, which is always shiny and food-free. Smashed Cheerios? Squished bananas that have hardened into petrified lumps? Sticky spots from dropped strawberries that have collected fuzz from who-knows-where? Nope. Not on my floor. ;))

Ya, so another rinse cycle took care of most of the bread and the lint catcher in the dryer caught the rest. If I do have a rogue bread crumb in my hair, please let me know.

No Tomatoes For You

Has anyone else heard about the 16-state salmonella outbreak from raw tomatoes? I just read about it in one of the Etsy forums -- of all places. Luckily California Romas are safe. Those are my favorite.

Most fast food places, including In-n-Out, have pulled fresh tomatoes from their food. Your burgers will have to go tomatoless for a while.

Here's an article for more info.

Bookworm

Aside from throwing things around and playing with balls, Sophie love books. If I'm busy in the kitchen and I don't hear books or toys hitting the floor, I usually see this:

Like Mother Like Daughter

I wear flip flops way too much. As much as I love shoes and love to wear cute, impractical ones, I find myself slipping on my comfy go-to's way too often . . . practically every day of the year that it isn't snowing (which is every day here).

Luckily I have more sense than that when I dress my daughter.

If you think these shoes look tiny, you're right. They're a size 2. I tell her not to get too smug, though, with her cute little feet because mom wears a 10 and dad wears a 12. She has no chance.