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Tag: parenthood
Baylor Pics
I have captured a few great, random pics of Ms.B and thought they would make a nice little post:
Not exactly sure what is happening here – going for ice cream? A sit in? Making a call? Either way, it’s adorable.
Getting that towel wrap down…
I finally got smart and or brave and was able to snap a pic of her looking so sweet!
Baylorisms – Part 4
Nishan – The Phonenician Resort where Aunt Ali works and where we sneak into the playground. Ssshhh….
Q-she Grge – Curious George
Q-she Grge. Good Monkey. Always very q-she – Curious George was a good little monkey and always very curious
Barilla – Gorilla
How your baby going? – What she asks Ali while she pats Ali’s belly. We think a combination of how are you doing and what’s going on.
What ARF you do in? – Not sure why she says arf, but it makes me laugh every time
Miska! Mooseka! Mickey Mouse! – the magic words for Mickey Mouse Club House
What his mommy’s name? – In Bay’s world, there is a mommy, a daddy and a kiddo – in reality it’s a husband, wife and sometimes a kiddo. So when she asks what someone’s mommy or daddy’s name is, she really means spouse. And trying to explain boyfriend and girlfriend is just a lost cause.
Twilight
The other night while driving home from swim lessons, I noticed that the sky was particularly beautiful. There was a dusting of clouds that glowed with the soft warm colors of the setting sun. It was spectacular.
I pointed out the clouds to B and we sat silently admiring the beautiful site. A few seconds later, we had this conversation:
“I think that’s where Heaven is.”
“I think you’re right kiddo.”
“I think that’s where mine Mamie lives. Waaay up there. I wish she would come back and live in her house so I could go and play.”
Trying not to cry: “I wish she would too.”
In true toddler form with no hint of sadness, but rather hopefulness she said: “I hope she has someone to play leggos with. Maybe great grandma. Or Jesus.”
I hate that she has had to learn about death and loss and heaven at such a young age. I hate that heaven has to be a part of our daily conversations. But I don’t want her to fear death or heaven, I want it to be an open, easy and welcome conversation for her. I want her to remember Mame and to know that it’s ok to miss her and that we can talk about her and remember all the good times and good things about her. I just have to learn to do it without having to choke back tears each time.
Planet Orange
When I was in 5th grade, the Phoenix Suns were it. They had a winning season and were going into the play offs. Ali and I knew all the players and we watched all the games. We had Suns cups, Suns basketball and painted our nails purple and orange. And it wasn’t just us, the whole town was energized by the team – walls were painted with “Go Suns!”. Our catholic school allowed Suns shirts on game days – picture that: a purple, orange or purple and orange shirt with a blue and red plaid skirt. It was awesome. Charles Barkley still holds a special place in my heart to this day.
When we went to see George Strait at US Airways Center (which will always be America West Arena to me, just sayin), I told Peter I wanted to go to a Suns game. I can’t remember the last time I went to one, but it was at least 15 years ago (at least). Which means it’s about time. It happened that two weeks later, Peter’s firm sent out an email asking if anyone would like the firm’s seats for Monday night. PW snatched those tickets up faster than me at the Nordstrom half year going for the last pair of cute size 11 shoes (ok, 12. That urban legend that your feet grow when you have babies is true).
As we expertly snaked through downtown traffic (it helps to have a hubby who drives it every day) we kept looking at our parking pass, sure that we had passed the garage. We couldn’t really be parking AT the arena, could we? We pulled in, certain they were going to turn us away and the parking attendant handed us a piece of paper with a number. Huh? She told us to just pull up the ramp and hand it to the attendant up there. When we did, he instructed us to back up two spots where he then took out a cone from a reserved spot and waved us in. Like whoa. THIS is how I like to attend sporting events!
We proceeded to walk maybe 50 feet to the entrance of the loge level where we were given all you can drink and all you can eat bracelets and then escorted to our seats. Which were at the very front of the loge level, maybe 20 rows back from the court. A.MA.ZING. Not to mention the food was great, a waitress kept a steady flow of drinks AND the other two tickets went to an associate at the firm and his wife who we love.
Oh, and him? Yeah, that’s Tom Chambers. Like 5 feet from us. THAT’S how good these seats were!!
Naunny Animals
This is my conversation with Ms.B this afternoon. It started when I had to go into her room for the fourth time to tell her to GO TO SLEEP:
“Bay-lor. It is TIME TO SLEEP.”
“Ok mommy. I just tucking my nanimals (animals) in.”
“Ok well let’s finish up and I’ll tuck you in and then you have to get some sleep. Why are Minnie and Daisy on the floor?”
“I throw Daisy Duck and Minnie out mine crib because they being naunny (naughty).”
“Oh so it’s their fault you’re still awake?”
“Yes mommy. But now I have Big Num Nums (her big pink rabbit) so I go to sleep.”
Citrus Season
When we did our landscaping, we picked out two orange trees for our front yard. It took almost two seasons for them to really start producing fruit, but now that they are rolling, we’ve got oranges a pleanty! Arizona Sweet Navel and Valencia – I fertilize both within an inch of their lives so that there is lots of large, sweet fruit. This year I had my helper who picked up the oranges as I dropped them out of the tree.
Sadly, I didn’t get a shot of her putting the oranges into her shopping cart to wheel them inside..
And if you thought my helper was cute, you should see what Kristin is doing over at One Pretty Place. It’s ridiculous how creative she is!!
Love and Cooking
To me, cooking is love. Making a meal for your family is an expression of how much you care for them. So this Valentine’s day, we’re doing dinner in. I’m making of PW’s favorite dinners: marinated flank steak, sauteed mushrooms, twice baked potatoes and cookies that B helps make. I’m hungry just writing it!
See my post on Scottsdale Moms Blog today for the recipes: http://scottsdalemomsblog.com/
And do me a favor and pretend that we are making Valentine’s cookies and not Christmas cookies in Baylor’s pic – k? Sometime’s there’s just not enough time and or cold medicine in a week to stage a holiday appropriate pic!
Modern Marvels
One of my mom’s favorite childhood stories about my sister Ali is when she came home asking my mom for a recipe for ice. Ali had been in the nurse’s office that day at school and the nurse had pulled out ice cube trays and popped out a few for a scrapped knee. Ali was in awe – we had an ice maker so she had never seen a tray of ice before and was totally enamored.
My step sister told me recently that her daughter asked to listen to the radio – when she put on XM radio, Madi said “no mom, like the real radio. Can we listen to the real radio sometime?”.
This past weekend it was my turn. At a friend’s house for a party, Bay and I went to the bathroom to wash hands. While in there she stared at the shower curtain. She gently pulled it back and said “Oh neat! The bath tub!”. I didn’t get it at first, but I guess she’s never really seen a bathtub with a curtain pulled across it. Oh how fascinating the world is when you’re two.
It Pays to Pay Attention
Ugh. Bay’s crud has finally attacked my immune system and won. I used to put up a fierce fight when I would feel the first signs of illness coming on – lots of rest, running it out, extreme mental denial of any illness, etc. However, because my two year old now hangs out with other two year olds at preschool a few half days a week, she comes home with every illness imaginable. Because despite her classroom being very clean and constant hand washing throughout her day, preschool = cesspool. Therefore I no longer fight it. At the first sign of a tickle in my throat, I down my usual cocktail of vitamin C, Mucinex D, Zyrtec and sometimes and Advil for good measure.
After a rough night’s sleep due to a scratch throat and PW’s scratchy throat and Baylor’s scratchy throat, I was a little more sleep deprived than usual. I realized my normal morning routine was a little scattered and I couldn’t quite put my finger on what came next on the priority list. Despite my general fuzziness, we made it out the door on time.
I dropped B off and stood for a few minutes watching her interact with her buddies – they were all hanging on the playground fence laughing and waving at a car parked with two dogs inside. It always cracks me up to see what she’s doing when she doesn’t know I’m looking.
I walked to the car making mental notes to remember to bring money at pick up for the pancake breakfast, to make a note about what I had signed up to bring for the Valentine’s party and which errand I needed to get done first. I pushed the button on my keys, heard the tell tale “beep beep” of an unlocked car, opened the door and started to swing into my seat when I realized something was weird…why are my seats tan and not gray? At that point a voice from the back door said “good morning”. I looked back to see a mom pulling her kiddo out of his car seat on the passenger side. It was then I realized I had just attempted to get into someone else’s car.
Thank God the mom clearly had a sense of humor and or empathy that she didn’t scream but rather just laughed and said “same car??”. And thank goodness I had at least attempted to get into a car that was exactly like my own (there are 4 white SUVs of the same make and model at B’s school – I counted) and not one that was completely different. I proceeded to get into the correct car and drive straight to Starbucks for an extra shot of caffeine to hopefully wake myself up a little.
While retelling the story to my friend and neighbor, a mom of three, she informed me that she too had done the same thing a few years ago. So at least I’m not alone in my airheadedness. Which means I’ll have friends when PW finally checks me into the funny farm.
The Goon Room 