Ladies... Please, There's Enough For Everyone

Yep, my boy's a ladies' man at the young age of three. Here's the proof, in case you needed any. This picture was taken at school where they do a monthly birthday party for the kids' whose birthdays are that month. These three are the November babies - or shall I call the two girls "babes" instead? Has he just done a Joey (from Friends)? "How you doin'?" Notice the look in the girls' eyes, though. Should we find it disturbing that he's the only one smiling? I'm not sure their totally convinced by loverboy yet. Give him some time, though, and I'm pretty sure he'll have them wrapped around his finger. That, or our mischievous little man is planning on slamming their heads together (because, notice the way his hands seem to grasp their necks). Hmmm, and looking at that shiner on his right eye, maybe that's much more plausible. Oh, well. He's either a lover or a fighter, right? At least he's completely at home between two girls, though. That must count for something.



And, in case you needed a better look at that shiner, I've got this second picture for you (and, also because I find him cute, and I know Grandma will be pleased by these pictures - the rest of you will just have to be patient with this annoyingly proud mommy).

If I were a better blogger, I'd show you pictures (yet to be taken) of the pants I finished sewing for Lambchop #1. They turned out really well, and she looks adorable in them. I'm still working on the shirts, though, so the pant pictures will probably come with pictures of the shirts. Or, I could show you the little mohair sweater I've almost got finished for Lambchop #1 (isn't she quite the spoiled brat these days?). Once again, though, no photos. And, I guess if I were even a mediocre blogger, I'd show you some nice shots of our trip into the touristy area of Montpellier yesterday (a rare thing these days). We actually took some of that, but I'm just not in the mood to sort through them. I'm not a great blogger, I guess. This evening, I'll settle for being a good daughter and putting these pictures up so my mother can download them, as I'm sure she'll do. I will tell you a little something about my trip into the city, though.

There were tons of crowds, because it was "telethon" weekend all across France. Kind of a Jerry Lewis-type thing but much more wide-spread. Montpellier was the only city in the south that was televising the festivities. So, there was a lot going on and a ton of people watching it. We spent a little time imitating canned sardines while we attempted to cross the "Comedie" (a large plaza) to get to the merry-go-round we'd promised the kids a ride on. After that, I took a long walk doing what turned out to be lots of window shopping. I was on a mission for some purple shoes for Lambchop #1, who is all about the purple this year. Never did find any at a decent price (because, call me crazy, but I don't see 120 euros as decent pricing for something that'll fit a 5-year-old), but I did visit a local yarn shop.

They had lots of nice things, and I thought about grabbing up some nice baby super wash for a little something for Lambchop #3. In the end, though, I spent a whopping total of 3.50 euros for a little ribbon and a spool of thread to finish sewing the shirts I'm working on. Is that amazing? A once-in-a-blue-moon trip to the shopping Mecca of the area, and I bought some thread and ribbon. That's just un-American. All that fun yarn, and I didn't buy any. Maybe I couldn't justify the over 5 bucks a ball. Yeah, I think that was it. I enjoyed fondling it, though, and maybe sometime soon I'll make a little trip to their factory outlet and go a little hogwild snagging up yarn at much lower prices. Anyway, it was fun, and the company of my husband's cousin was much enjoyed (especially when I realized that having children has apparently stripped me of my femininity - what female knitter spends only 3.50 euros in a nice yarn shop?? - but I can still out-window-shop just about anybody.).

Note: my apologies for any typos. I am being summoned by a whining toddler. Must not keep his majesty waiting... too long.