angela's blog

Well, we now know that JJ and I don't need to be sterilized because we can't handle children. Hallelujah. That makes me happy. Yesterday Michele called us and asked if we could watch Dylan for a couple of hours while she went to visit a friend whose nephew, a newborn baby, was in the hospital. The baby is really sick and apparently on life support so of course we agreed to chill with the little guy and so we arranged to have him dropped off at JJ's apartment at around 2 this afternoon. Our afternoon was quite fun filled. We played Rebel Strike on the GameCube - Dylan's getting pretty good at flying - and then we went swimming. Dylan made it quite clear to me which ones were the "swimming underpants" and which ones were the "naptime pull ups." The fishes on the swimming ones helped, too. So away we went. Dylan was antsy about letting us put sunscreen on him (he doesn't like sticky slimy things) but we managed to coax him into letting us rub some on his arms, neck and back. It was a no-go for the face. When we got to the pool we played and splashed and swam and then when I started to worry that the little guy was going to burn, I told him we better get out "Because the sun is hot and we don't want you to get burned." That got him out without too much argument, but he felt it was his civic duty to tell everyone in the pool area on our way out, "Get out - you're gonna get burned!" This has been a public service announcement brought to you by Dylan Christopher Gibson. Afterward, Dylan took a quick bath (with my help) to get the chlorine and icky off him. Then, we watched cartoons and baked a cake (yellow with chocolate frosting) for his mommy. After awhile Dylan started getting a little cranky and finally said, "I'm tired." Whew. We got him a pillow and within 10 minutes he was out cold. Michele came and got him around 7 and they went (presumably) home. The good news is: Dylan didn't break anything (on him or in the apartment). JJ is totally capable of entertaining a 3 year old for 30 minutes or more. And I can cook well enough that a 3 year old doesn't complain. Sweet. Don't hold your breath. We ain't buying tickets for the baby train any time in the foreseeable future. But then again, we don't really mind it when the Dylan train makes a stop here, either.

Posted by Mrs. Cooper on 6.12.2005 at 6/12/2005 09:30:00 PM | Permalink