"Stuck! Stuck!"

Normally, when Caroline is supposed to be taking a nap, I listen for the sound of the velcro on her diapers being pulled away. I also listen for the sounds of her kicking the wall. I've even started to listen for her to say something like, "No touch poops." . . .which, of course, means that her diaper is full, and she's exploring it.

Yesterday during her "naptime" she was making her Pooh, Piglet, and Eeyore stuffed animals talk to each other. It was precious. They were "bouncing" and dancing in her bed. So, I let her continue playing, but listened for specific verbiage.

Today was another language story altogether. At some point, I heard her say "stuck. . .stuck." She wasn't crying, but when she's communicating a specific word, she usually means something. Sure enough, she was stuck. How this happened, I will never know. But, for a few minutes, my girl was truly stuck.

Okay. . .here's where technology and I are in a shooting match (so to speak) and I am losing. . . .my camera didn't capture the stinking pictures that I took. Let me try to give you a word-picture. . . Caroline pulled her collapsible laundry basket into her bed. She emptied it of the dirty clothes, turned it sideways in her bed, climbed inside, and sat upright.

She was "stuck" inside her laundry hamper inside her crib. She was perfectly safe. She could see. She could breathe. She was hilarious. And, until I ran for the camera, she truly was "stuck." Oh well, I'm sure she'll do it again. If so, I'll try to capture the moment.

In other news. . . .

Edison played center tonight in their football game against Cosby Middle School. These are moonshiner kids. I mean, they are HUGE. They surely to goodness must have grown up eating their cheerios in corn squeezins. According to Mark (and the announcer) he recovered a fumble. According to Edison, he was next to the guy who recovered the fumble. He enjoys playing center. I wish I would have been able to see him play. I hate having schedule conflicts on Tuesday nights.

My other news is sad news. This evening, Mom and Dad had to put their beloved dog, Nicky, to sleep. Nicky has been part of our family for the past 12 (nearly 13) years. She was the kind of guard dog that would thump you with her tail, and lick you to death. She used to race our cars up the hill to Mom and Dad's house. She kept a close eye on our children as they grew up. She was afraid of lightning, and loved my parents like nobody's business.

They acted like she was a nuisance. But I know they loved her. We all treated her like she was a nuisance, from time to time -- especially after she'd been swimming in the French Broad River (there's nothing quite like the stench of wet dog), but we loved her.

Thinking that she might be put down over lunch today, I went out to the farm. I think my intention was to console my mom. I ended up blubbering like a baby the whole time. I'm by no means the emotional rock that was needed. But, I went out nonetheless.

I will miss Nicky. I will miss her greetings when we come to the farm. I swear she knew my car. I know she knew my kids. I think she had a special place in her heart for them. And, there's no doubt that she loved my parents very much. (They loved her too)

Yep, I will miss her. . . .but the wet dog smell? Not so much. I'd love to be able to find a picture of her quickly, but none seem to be availing themself. So, I'll post this, but I'm not going to stop searching.

So, for all my good intentions of photos in this post, I come up empty-handed. Sigh.

But, tomorrow is Wednesday!