Hello my baby, hello my darling, hello my ragtime gaaaaal....

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A few weeks ago I got a message on facebook from someone and I couldn't figure out who. I was intrigued and stymied; try as I might, I could not place the name, and there was no picture. To add to this crazy enigma, the message mentioned missing Abby and Lily; this person obviously is close in some way to us...but who!?? A few weeks pass, and I get another one, this time with a photo. As it turns out, this mystery person was the girls' primary daycare carer person. I felt kinda bad not responding, but I don't think I ever did know her last name...maybe that lets me off the hook?

We'd always liked our old daycare, liked the people, but were never over the moon for it. The girls had seemed to enjoy it for the most part, so we had no complaints. But it was really nice of her to write, so Jen decided to stop in today for a wee visit.

Apparently the girls are quite fond of the place. Lily went nuts, tearing around the joint and nosing her way into all the classrooms, and generally throwing anarchy into their routine. Abby asked to be held by almost everyone. All the people working came out to see the girls and say hi and tell us they missed them. Lovely.

What makes us feel quite bad about this is that we're considering leaving that place for a home daycare. We have a few reasons, but primarily we're concerned about Abs and how she'll function in a group toddler room situation. Good? Bad? Who knows?

Regardless, it was a very worthwhile visit. I wish I could have gone.

Tonight, we met up with some old friends for a little get together. Most people were toting kids with them, so it was constant motion and difficulties conversing, but in a good way.

I clearly remember a Looney Toons skit where some guy finds a singing frog...you've likely seen this or maybe know what I'm talking about. He sings and dances to "Ragtime Gal" when alone with the befuddled protagonist, but when others are around he only croaks. Hi-larity.

This cartoon made me laugh as a kid. It now serves as a frustratingly apt metaphor for how our girls act in public.

They weren't exactly tyrrants tonight, but they didn't pull out the stops either. I don't think any enemies were made, but they probably stopped short of melting any hearts.

As soon as the car started moving for the trip home, they started babbling and babbling and laughing to each other and to us, incessantly and darlingly. Where were these morons a half hour prior? Nowhere. Croak.

Even tomorrow, while alone with us, they'll laugh and respond correctly to our "What does a cow say?" type questions, show us their BeeBo on command, all that stupid crap that makes the kids perfect in our eyes. It'll be great. Next time we have them out...croak. Never fails.

Day one hundred and eighty.

Beans in a box! How great is that? Abby loves the hell out of this activity.

Lily at Brittany's house, surrounded by the adults she spent the evening underwhelming.

My gratuitous vanity shot. A still from a video taken during high school as I (second from left) and John Grombacher and someone else (Moses?) ready to jump off the Lester River bridge in Duluth.

Many happy days we spent hurling ourselves off that thing.