Peter came home from work on Monday note feeling well. It might be the second time in his 5 years at the firm. He told Bay he had a headache and was going to take a nap. She was so excited to snuggle in bed with him and break out her new doctor’s kit. She also insisted he needed an Elmo band-aid on his head – not only because it looked cool, but because it would make it feel better. She topped off the bandage with a kiss and settled in for some “tar-toons” (cartoons).
What I want to know is this: who is the asshole who created the car cart at the grocery store?? Because this person should be forced to push this contraption around with them everywhere they go and see what a pain in the ass it is.
First of all, the placement of the car is not helpful. It’s low and in front of the basket which makes it impossible to A. steer and B. see where you’re going. Many an end of aisle display has been damaged by these beasts.
Second, because the actual car part is low to the ground, the kiddo is constantly hanging out a window or the windshield trying to get a better view. Or worse case, she decides it’s more fun to push the cart. Thus making what is already an annoying process, impossible.
Third, the damn things are always filthy. I even asked the manager at Safeway (who is on a first name basis with both Baylor and I because we’re there so much) if they could clean them. He says they sprayed them in bleach and scrubbed and they still look like a herd of pigs stomped through them.
I’ve had to resort to more and more elaborate lies to keep B out of them. The car is out of gas, it’s stuck, it’s broken, it’s only for big kids…the list goes on an on. And then there are days where the lies just don’t work and I give into the persistence. Only to end up pushing the cart with the help of my assistant – which turns a half hour trip into an hour plus. All the while cursing the car cart….
When we were kids, we had good family friends that we went to California with every summer. Their four kids to our two plus their parents and my mom made for one packed suburban. After a week of driving to and from the beach to the rental house, our friend’s dad would declare that the SUV smelled like “there were too many butts dragging across the seats”. This became a signature scent in our family and anytime something smelled wrong, it was always reminiscent of too many butts.
Last night I confessed, while laughing hysterically, that I had dropped an entire cheese stick between my seat and the console of my car. I had been trying to open it for the kiddo and it slipped right out of the plastic. Now, for anyone who knows me, any friends or roommates, they will testify that I am neat. Annoyingly neat. ridiculously clean. My worst fear is that someone-will-think-my-house-smells-funny kind of clean. So the fact that I’m knowingly driving around with a cheese stick under my seat is so appalling, it’s funny.
Peter, not believing me, trucked out to the garage with a fork in hand to retrieve said snack. When asked why I hadn’t done something about it, I said that I had A. forgotten about it having become accustomed to the smell that ridding around with a toddler who snacks in the car brings and B. I’m having my car detailed this weekend and I was going to have them get it out. disgusted, Peter forged on moving the driver seat forwards and backwards, continually stabbing at the missing dairy product. I, a little buzzed after a glass (or 2) of wine am giggling in the passenger seat. The role reversal of the situation was hilarious. It’s also a good 116 degrees in our garage so it may have been a heat induced state, I’m not sure.
Five minutes later, Peter grabbed the hardened stick off the fork, threw it away and declared me disgusting. All while scretly finding it hysterical because I know he’s accidentally dropped an entire spit cup in his truck. I’ll take a wayward cheese stick over that any day.
Tome likey pancakes.
Well, I guess technicall it’s just “to school” at our house. Ms.Baylor started her first day of preschool today!
A few weeks ago we found out that the cost of our favorite Little Gym class was going up – like way up. And because my little lady is such a social butterfly, we decided to look at a few half days of preschool. I started asking around, looking around and making calls to the few schools near our home that have an academic cirriculum for 2 year olds. We’re lucky that we had several choices and all have a Christian base. The unlucky part is that apparently every other two year olds mom knew that they were going to be ready for preschool months ago and had registered them and taken up all the available spots. We’re talking registration fees to get on a double digit wait list! I always thought the story line in movies where there is a year long wait list for preschool was a joke – apparently the only joke was on me.
Thankfully we did find a school that had openings and on top of that, they were amazing! I felt comfortable from the moment we walked in an Baylor was in love with the classroom and play ground. We met her teachers last week and when it was time to leave, she cried and screamed “STAY!!!”. Her teacher thought she was upset because Baylor thought I was leaving – I had to explain that Bay would love it if I would go so she could stay.
This morning after lots of pictures, Bay scrambled to her new class room and dove into the toys. I squatted down next to her and said that Daddy and I were going to leave she turned and said “hug! kiss! bye bye!”. She all but walked us to the door.
When I picked her up, the class was lying on their tummies singing a song about fish swimming. Bay looked up, waved and then continued on with the song. Her report card said she was “happy”, “ate all her snack” (big shock since it was mini pancakes!) and “had a great first day!”. B handed me her report card, said good bye and we headed out the door. No tears, no issues on either end. Can’t ask for more.
She told me in the car that she got to show her family pictures to her class mates, that they painted piggies and played on the swings. She also told me a girl named Emma got her ears pierced and that it hurt. She repeated her story to both sets of grandparents and to daddy too. I am currently listening to her tell Minnie Mouse the same story – it’s nap time so she and Minnie are having some pillow talk.
Her one disappointment of the day was that she didn’t need to take a backpack with her to school. This, however, did not stop me from getting her a ridiculously cute one that was waiting in the car for her….
Ready to take on preschool!
I just wanted to say thank you to all the comments on Friday’s blog (which, oddly wasn’t named). It makes me feel validated in knowing I, like many of the readers, were and are in the same boat when it comes to being a parent. I will be sure to do more posts like this and in the mean time, check out the Tales from the Crib archive. There are some posts about the early days with Ms.B and I have to say, they are quite amusing. Some of my favorites include The Sleep Terrorist and A Watched Phone Never Boils. Enjoy and hang in there!
In our ongoing quest to stay cool and have some fun outside the house, Baylor and I have tea parties. She gets to take a bottle of water and pour it into her tea pot. Then she gets to pour the “tea” into the tea cups and serve Tome, Bear, Barbie, Mommy and herself. The best part is that she spills the majority of the “tea” all over herself thus keeping cool while having some fun. And she gets some water without me having to add juice to make it enticing. Win. Win. And one more win.
Sadly our host was drenched and therefore stripped down to a diaper by the time I grabbed the camera.
Tome likes Silly Glasses when he imbibes
Bay has to help Bear – without thumbs, tea cups are impossible to hold
Hitching a ride on Baylor’s sweet new trike…
I believe in miracles. I believe in signs. I believe in the warm and fuzzies and gut feelings. I believe that God gives us little whispers, hints and reminders that we are loved and that someone is listening.
This week Baylor moved up to the “big pool” at swim lessons. It was bitter-sweet for me because it meant that I no longer had to get into the super chlorinated pool only to get doused several unwanted times. But it also meant that I didn’t have to get into the pool with her for swim lessons anymore. After watching her lesson, I saw how great she did with her instructor because she was getting spread her wings and it was amazing to watch. I was so happy, so proud… and so comfortable in the cool air conditioned room.
I realized on the way home that our second call after Peter to tell him how great she did, would have been to Mame. Mamie always loved watching and hearing about Bay’s lessons. She bought her goggles, a kick board and her first swim suit – followed by many other swim suites. She was always so excited to hear how she did and loved watching her “kick, kick, kick and float, float, float”. When she was able to come to lessons, Baylor made a point to climb out, run to the sidelines and give Mamie a kiss. Even though it was not what she was supposed to be doing, even her teacher couldn’t get mad because it was so cute. I was sure to note that night during prayers with Baylor, how proud Mamie would have been of her.
Saturday morning I was greeted by a sweet, smiling two-year old shouting “AWAKE!! MOMMY!! AWAKE!!”. I picked Bay up and took her to the changing table where she asked me for her “Mamie angel”. I handed her the wooden figuring that Mame had given her on her first birthday. She kissed it, and then looked at me and said “I saw you”. I stopped mid diaper change. She said it again and this time smiled at me. Baylor has never said that before – she usually says “see you” or “momma, see”, never a full sentence and never in the past tense.
My only conclusion is that it was a little sign from Mame that she’s watching. That she sees how amazing Baylor is and that she’s proud. I tried hard to hold in tears and said a little prayer of thanks for knowing that she’s still here and that she still sees how much she is loved and missed.
Last week we set out for vacation in Montana. We visited my family at the guest lodge they run in Emigrant (http://www.hubya.com/).
I had great intentions of blogging beautiful pictures all week. But I pulled a major blonde moment by packing my camera without the battery. Also entertaining a 2-year-old on vacation is a full-time gig. So instead of keeping readers updated, I’ll now attempt to fill you in.
The first part of our trip is a 1.5 hour flight to Salt Lake, then a connection into Bozeman that’s about 55 minutes. Last year we had a direct flight and the kid slept like a rock. This year, not so lucky. She did awesome, really. But traveling with a 2-year-old is not without its fun. We had her favorite cartoons and games on the Iphone, toys and other entertainment (straws are my go to). However, the only way she would play or watch was sitting on my lap. Here’s a picture Peter caught:
The kiddo on my lap, book in one hand, Iphone in the other. Trying to keep her headphones on and the drinks from spilling. This is what it looks like when you look up “mom” in the dictionary.
We arrived in Bozeman with our friends and we headed out for the hour drive to Livingston for the annual 4th of July parade. The Livingston parade is the definition of small town, super hokey and oh so fun way to spend the afternoon. My favorite float? The Costco entry that consists of someone’s truck with a sign that says “Costco” followed by 6 employees pushing grocery carts full of Kirkland brand toilet paper which they throw out to the crowds. A.Ma.Zing.
Bryn and Baylor headed to the parade:
If we had only known that there was an imminent and nasty melt down to be had by both children and adults alike was on the near horizon, I would have taken more pictures. By the time the parade made it down the street, we were packing up and headed on the hour-long drive to the ranch.
Thankfully all the kids and family woke up happy and ready to roll. We spent our first day petting horses, looking for elk and deer, mooing like cows, hiking and riding in Pop’s tractor (Baylor’s favorite). Pop (my step father Jim) brought the same tractor out of the barn a few days later and both Baylor and Bryn got to drive and honk the horn. To say they were thrilled was an understatment.
As soon as I locate pictures from our friend Karin, my step sister Nancy, and Peter’s phone, I will get them up with commentary. Stay tuned for the recap of the 4th of July, the Livingston Rodeo and some amazing landscape shots.
The Goon Room 