Sunday Drive

We watch a lot of The Wiggles around here.

It started out innocently enough. MB used to have zero interest in TV at all, which was great in some ways–we could smugly feel like we weren’t caving and using the TV as a babysitter.

But then, in other ways it was a pain. Like, when we needed to use the TV as a babysitter.

As in, when I need to take a shower while she is awake. Or when Lee needs to get dressed for work without Mary Bullock dragging every pair of shoes he owns out of the closet and into the middle of the floor.

So when we realized that she loved The Wiggles, we were pretty excited. They’re not terribly obnoxious. They model polite behavior. They sing and dance and have cute accents.

But now. Well, now MB’s Wiggles mania has reached truly outlandish proportions. As in, she wants to watch The Wiggles every time we get into the car, even if we’re driving three blocks away.

I used to try to reason with her about this, but then she just figured out how to turn the DVD player on herself, and my efforts became futile.

But today, for some reason that I could not figure out by looking at the DVD player backwards and upside down from the front seat, the DVD would not come on.

Widdles, Mama?
Sorry, Bug. I don’t know what’s wrong with it. We’ll be home in a few minutes.
Widdles, Mama! Widdles! Widdles on? 
Sorry, sweetheart. I know you want The Wiggles, but they’re not working right now.
Widdles, Mamaaaaaaaa! Widdles! 
And on and on she goes.

Lee is driving. I put my hand on his back and rub. Poor Daddy. He has been working like a slave in his own house the last few weeks– putting together play kitchens, painting nursery furniture.

Mary Bullock observes from the backseat.
Daddy pat Mama back?
Lee takes her suggestion and pats my back.
Everybody smiles,  and the car is quiet.
Then a little voice from the back:



Happy Toot Day

Mary Bullock calls birthdays toot days. I can’t really explain how this confusion has occurred, but she seems pretty confident that we’re all saying it wrong and she is saying it right.  I don’t argue. I think I’ll be kind of sad when she actually starts saying birthday instead.

Her big present was a play kitchen, which I’ve been dying to give her ever since I burst into tears a few months ago watching her pretend to fry an egg with no pan [Give me a break! I’m hormonal!].

So far she is enthralled! I’m hoping she’s somewhat less enthralled when we move it into her bedroom, since I’m hoping she continues to sleep at night, but for right now it’s fun to watch her get busy with her food stuffs.

The cupcakes for her play date turned out well, for my first time making strawberry icing AND my first time using a pipette. Some of them were neater than others. [Perhaps I should have thought to move the messy ones to the back? ;)]

Have I mentioned that we have the best babysitter like ever? Adriana is one of my former students and has been helping us out once a week. When she read about my sugar cookie troubles, she brought over a pipette and instructed me on how to use it.  Then she texted me encouragement and tips on making the icing. I couldn’t have gotten through this job without her. đŸ™‚

We ended MB’s toot day with a play date at the park.  It seemed appropriate since it’s my baby’s favorite place in the whole world.

In the car on the way home, I asked her if she’d had a good birthday.
Uh-huuuhuuuh. Happy toot day, she said.

And then she was two.

Dear Buck Buck,

Happy Birthday!

Last year we were your caretakers. This year, you turned us into parents. Thank you for being patient with us while we learn what all that means. 

So far, we know:
Tooting makes you giggle.
You are a master negotiator when there are N&Ms at stake.
You can rock some cow-boo-boots.
You are fickle with your kisses but generous with hugs and back pats.

The rest might take a while.

Pretty Pretty Pumpkins

Today, I am tired.
It’s not a complaint, just a statement of fact. Can feelings be facts? Hm. An internal debate for another day. When I’m not so tired.

Lee is probably going to read this and think: If you’re so tired, why are you blogging and not napping?
I wonder this myself. But have you ever tried to nap with a to-do list the size of your arm?
I prefer to knock out my to-do list and then nap with a clear mind.  Of course, this means that my nap and going to bed tonight might be the same thing.

Yesterday I posted pictures of my favorite pumpkin, but there were all sorts of beautiful pumpkins at our patch this year. It’s a good thing that every available surface in our house is already pumpkined-out, or some of these would have jumped into my car.

Have you ever seen a pink pumpkin?

I would have taken this one home, too, but I think her mama would disapprove of this plan.

Sadly, my love of pumpkins does not stop at admiring their beauty. As if I need any more weight on my hips, I’ve also been baking. So far, pumpkin bread and chocolate chip pumpkin muffins. And this week, I’ll add pumpkin blondies to the list.

I think this is my version of nesting. Since I’m pretty useless in the painting and sewing departments, my sweet husband and mother are taking care of those. I have turned my efforts toward the kitchen. Nevermind that napping would be an entirely more productive activity in these final six weeks. Logic and pregnancy just don’t mix, you know?

And with that– I’m back to the kitchen. If you need sweets, swing on by.

***Blogger has taken leave of its senses today, just FYI. Sorry for the mess.

Today’s Lesson

Do you read Jesus Calling?

It really is an amazing book. It especially speaks volumes to complainers and whiners such as myself. I know I’ve skipped a few days when my woe is me attitude reaches a fever pitch and the world seems to be coming down on my head.

Today was a catch up day for me, but I also flipped through some devotions from the early part of this year, before I bought the book.

January 26 had this to offer:
Give up the illusion that you deserve a problem-free life. Part of you in still hungering for the resolution of all difficulties. This is a false hope. As I told my disciples: in the world, you will have trouble. Link your hope not to problem solving in this life but to the promise of an eternity of problem-free life in heaven. 

Which spoke to me today, since just last night I was whining to Lee: why can’t anything ever be easy?

But January 26th was also kind of nagging at me. What was happening to me at the end of January? I couldn’t remember.

Oh yeah.

I guess a lesson in retrospect is still a lesson, right?
Now I’ll just slide this one in my pocket for next time I want to demand a life of ease.

Faking It

Woke up at 4:30 this morning. It’s third trimester insomnia. Not to be confused with first trimester insomnia or the evil middle sister, second trimester insomnia.

Yes, I know they say this is God’s way of preparing mothers for the months and months of no sleep that will follow a new baby’s birth.

But what I really think is that it’s God’s way of preparing fathers for just how crabby and irrational a sleep deprived new mother can be.

Do you hear that Leeeee? Start practicing your Yes, Dears and taking deep breaths.

But back to the make-up. I really did have to use this today, so if you saw me, let me know how it worked. If you didn’t see me today, you can just make stuff up.

I won’t be able to tell the difference.