Sometimes Mary Bullock wakes up cranky from her naps. I haven’t figured out any sort of pattern. Some days she bounds out of bed ready to play. Other days, all she wants to do is cry, and there’s nothing that will appease her. On those days we spend most of the afternoon with her in my lap crying into my shoulder. It’s frustrating that I can’t seem to make her feel better, but it’s also nice [for me, anyway], because I know these days of my girl on my lap will eventually end.
Have I ever told you about my second day of teaching? If I’ve known you long, you’ve probably heard this. But I had just turned 22 [this might be the ONLY thing I remember about being 22!]. I was standing in my hippie Dansko clogs in front of a class of total hoodlums, and I fell down, smack on my bottom, in a skirt. [I know, you’re thinking– that’s what you get for wearing Danskos with a skirt.] But I did fall, and it was probably the most humiliating experience of my life at that point. Or else I thought so [because I was 22 and still pretty dramatic].
If you’re still reading, you might be thinking–what does this have to do with Mary Bullock? But this day over a decade ago is the day that I think of when MB cries on my lap. Because the very next period after my complete wipe out, I went down to my mom’s office, sat down in her lap, put my head on her shoulder and sobbed.
I remember feeling embarrassed, and stupid, and frustrated. But I also remember thinking that I was so glad to be sitting there, way too old to be doing this sort of thing, crying on my mommy’s shoulder. I don’t even know if she remembers it, but I will never forget it.
One day when Mary Bullock is a mommy, I hope she remembers that I was there for her when all she wanted to do was cry. And I hope she gives her own baby extra hugs and kisses.
And possibly ice cream.
MB has a new favorite you tube clip, y’all. I would get tired of watching it, except that she does this hilarious dance every time she watches it, and I never get tired of seeing her do this. I have it on video, too, but I will spare her some small measure of dignity.
I honestly can’t decide what makes me giggle the most: the hand on the hip, the big girl panty wedgie, or the part where she figures out that I am recording this for posterity.
Here is the clip if you care to enjoy it. But be forewarned: you will have this song it your head for the rest of the day.
Scene: Wedekind house, 7:45am
Me: Mary Bullock, how did you sleep?
Me: Did you just say well?
[I screech into the study to find Lee at the computer.]
Me: OhMiGOSH, Lee. I just asked MB how she slept last night–
Lee: And she said well?
Me: HOW DID YOU KNOW?
Lee: I taught her.
Me: [Bubble. Bursting.]
Until this week, I had forgotten that MB used to lick my face. Now Lee 4 has started licking my face, and suddenly I remembered the best game ever.
I put my cheek next to his soft chubby cheek, and he turns his mouth and licks.
I squeal with delight: EEEEEEEEEE!!!
I could do this all day.
Which may explain why the laundry’s piling up.
My sweet sweet boy has the most pitiful cough. Today is day 8. But as much as it pains me to hear him cough, and as much as I don’t love that he’s waking up again at night, I know this is temporary and minor in the grand scheme. I was writing in his baby book the other day [I try to do this on the first of every month, so I don’t forget] and I thought: this cough, however annoying, is something that I will forget about in a month or two. I will look back in his baby book and think: He had a cough? I don’t remember that. Weird.
I think about these things now because of Luke.
Speaking of Luke, MB and Pretty went down the street to a garage sale fundraiser this weekend and came back with the best little cookies. MB and I have been having tea/Capri Sun and cookies in the afternoons.
I eat my cookies quickly. MB eats her cookies s l o w l y. Then when she sees my plate is empty, she asks me if I want a taste of her cookies [yes, please!], and then she thanks me for tasting her cookies.
Soon she’ll realize that she’s confused about all that, but until then I will attribute this to her abundant generosity and trade her kisses for tastes of her cookies.
And that’s what we’ve been doing. You know, plus the usual.
There is a game I like to play when I go to Costco. I like to call it Fat Chance.
The object is simple: Go to Costco. Get everything I need. Get nothing I don’t.
I’m not actually sure why I like playing this game, because I’m really terrible at it.
This morning I was pretty determined, though. For one thing, I’m on a tight budget. We’re experimenting with a radical notion called living within our means here in the Wedekind household. Not sure how it’s going to go yet, but I’ll keep you posted.
So there I was, happily bypassing things that normally would jump into my cart, and then:
And then— the wheels came off.
So, WWACD? She would stalk Costco to see if her luck would eventually change.
They weren’t on my list, but I technically do need these, so I think we can call today’s game of Fat Chance a draw.
Except for…a few other things.
Oh well. I’ll try again next time.