Good Influence

We were warned, when Addie was about nine months old, that we would have to really start watching our language. And, I must say, for the most part we do.
Damn has become Darn.
Shit has become Shoot or Sugar.
Sonofabitch has become Sonofgoat.
Jesus Christ has become Jeezlepeetes.

Seriously, we've been doing pretty good. Occasionally we slip, and are quickly reminded as our little parrot squawks whichever unsavory word(s) were muttered. It's in those instances that I know she's listening and soaking up everything we do and say.

While I am often chagrined when she chooses to emphatically say shit while we're in Kroger, my heart smiles when I realize that she is also picking up some of the good things we say.

I ask her every morning how she slept and if she had good dreams. I always ask her how her day at school was and remind her to use her manners. I suggest that she rest when she's grumpy and we talk about how much better she feels after a nap. We insist in please and thank you and you're welcome.

Today I got to hear some of the good influence we have, as opposed to the mountains of bad influence we ooze. She and I ran errands getting ready for the much anticipated visit of our friend Carolyn.

I unloaded the groceries and schelped the bags into the kitchen with her help. As I was putting things away and tidying up she grabbed my hand and said oh-so-seriously "Mama you tired. You have a good day?". I chuckled and said yes I was tired and yes I did have a good day. To which she replied "Maybe you try to rest your boootiful eyes Mama. Yeah, maybe that make your day a little better."

Little did she know, she just had.

I'm just saying that sometimes it's awfully hard to say no to this face. Or to remain mad. Or to keep a stern face and be a disciplinarian. Or to not melt.

It's hard.

I'm just sayin'.

Thankful Thursdays

What am I thankful this Thursday?

• A weekend that was full of laughter, old friends, good food, fire pits and Sparkletinis.


• A broken fever and medication for a grouchy toddler.


• Being inspired to again reengage my cheapest therapy: Running.


• A midweek hair cut, color and mini-facial.


• Being invited to dance 'at the ball' nine times a day from the most lovely princess.


• Getting the front lawn mowed before the neighbors staged a protest.


• A pedicure with pals on our second to last day of enjoying our toddlers being in 'school'.


• Waking up to realize the epic fight I had with my husband was in my dreams, not real.


• Drinking my coffee and catching the first episode of West Wing being rerun on Bravo.


• Being one day closer to a relatively quiet weekend.


• My lillies adding a brilliant splash of color to the patio.

The Difference

Even though today started a 4:42 a.m., it was a markedly better day than yesterday.

There were minimal tears.

There was a minute amount of backtalk.

I didn't get yelled at or bossed.

My hand was held with little coaxing.

My lap was sat in and I was given more than a few kisses.

We managed to it make through story time and a store with no drama. Three-fourths of her lunch was eaten without any complaints.

I am not sure as to why today is so different than yesterday. We kept busy both days. She saw Aunt Nikki both days. She picked out her own outfit both days.

Maybe it's because today we made Funfetti cookies. Funfettis make any day a little brighter.

A case of the Mondays

That nasty fever is gone.

In its place? A horrendous attitude. When I say horrendous I mean, well, horrendous.
Yelling. Screaming. Pushing. Spitting, shoving, kicking. Bellowing NO and NOW and I WANT. And my personal fave, OKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY MOM!.

It's been awesome.

Today around 5:30 p.m. she wanted to go out and play. Even though it was drizzling. Even though it was chilly. Even though she was in a sleeveless, short dress.
I gave in and said we could frolic on the porch IF she changed out of her play dress and tutu into her pants and shirt.

She charged upstairs clad in a ballerina dress, a tutu and her Snow White shoes.
Seven minutes later - sobbing: I need help Mama. Help me! I can't do my shirt Mommy.
So I helped her with the shirt and told her to head up and slip into her pants.

Pants that have an elastic waist. Adidas track pants. Pants she put on by herself this morning. And that's when all the fussing morphed into the most amazing meltdown.

Yelling at the pants. Saying she couldn't get her legs in them. Screaming. Sobbing. Yelping for help - Mama YOU DO IT.
But I wouldn't do it. I knew she could. I want her to try. To not give up easily. And I steadfastly told her to come downstairs and try, after she tried I told her I would help.
That resulted in her pants being thrown down the stairs at me. And her snotty tissue being tossed in my face. And screaming and sobbing and yelping and chocking on her cries. And in the middle of the loud histrionics she requested peanuts, a hair bow and a treat.

I knew then that she had officially crossed into the realm of being a hot mess.

Finally I picked up her tutu clad self. Adidas workout shirt on top, fluffy pink tutu on the bottom. I picked up the hot mess that was my daughter and held her tightly on my lap.

I rocked her and patted her back. I told her to take five deep breaths...and by breath number five she was snoring.

At 6:12 p.m. she curled into her bed.

And I worry that tomorrow is going to be an awfully early wake up call.

Thankful Thursdays

I had been toying around with making my Thursdays, here on the Internet, Thankful Thursdays.
Why Thankful Thursdays?
Because sometimes I complain a lot. Because sometimes I sound bitter. Because often I forget to be thankful for all things that make my life wonderful...

Because in college Thursdays meant the absolute beginning of the weekend.
Because after college Thursdays meant 50 cent tacos and dollar beers at the Sports Corner.
Because when we first started living together Thursdays were the day he came home from traveling and treated me to a dinner out.
Because Thursdays morphed into softball and beers and friends and the start of labor with her.
Because when I was just adjusting to living here, in the heart of it all, Thursday mornings became my salvation.

And then life got busy and Thursday mornings became a thing of the past.

And shortly thereafter, Thursdays meant "school" - Mother's Day Out. Four hours, every Thursday, when Addie goes to school. She plays with her pals (far too many to mention here), begs for her teachers' attention (god love Miss Marilyn and Miss Gail). She paints and colors and laughs until she's exhausted. She is in bliss.

Her bliss, of course, is nothing compared to mine. Some Thursdays I scrub the house from top to bottom. Some Thursdays I sit in the backyard and make landscaping plans. Other Thursdays I hit Kohls, Meijer, Kroger, Target, Home Depot and Costco - I leisurely walk the aisles and shop without trying to entertain a mini-me. I try things on, I read the back of books, I pick things up and plot. Next Thursday I'm getting a pedicure with two other Moms in the neighborhood while our kids are at "school".

Rosy cheeks & glassy eyes - not a good sign
This Thursday? This school day that I am so thankful for? I planned to grocery shop, clean the house and prepare for my long awaited guests.

Instead, however, I was snuggled next to an en fuego toddler - at 4 a.m. She tossed and turned and whined and cried. She was like hugging a sunburn - she wanted her back rubbed, her hand held, to be sung to.

She did not go to school. Her temp was 100.3, 102.5, 99.8, 101.3. She was uncomfortable. And grouchy. And unconsolable. She wanted her mommy. She wanted my lap. My arms. My hugs.
She wanted stories, attention, songs.
She wanted to cuddle and watch movies and be taken care of.

And she fell asleep on my lap, at 6:45, whimpering.

And strangely, I was thankful.

Another glimpse into the future

Last night while sucking up the last few minutes of sunshine Addie and I played out on the driveway. I traced her in chalk, we gathered dandelions and talked about our day. Five minutes before we headed in she pulled out her little pink car and informed me that she was going to Skyline to get me a hot dog, chili and lemonade.
For the record my order would have not included lemonade - I'm an iced tea kind of gal.

She got in her car and 'left'. About six feet from me she turned around, held out her hand and said:

I need money please. I get gas.

When I laughed at her she said, with her hand on her hip:

Mama! I forgot my wallet! I need money puhlease!*{Hufff}

I better start saying no to this adorable face or I am going to have one empty wallet.

*This interaction is even slightly more amusing because when my mom was in town we went shopping and out to lunch. It wasn't until we went to check out that I realized I didn't have my credit card on me - Whooops! I think I looked at my mommy and said "Mom I forgot my credit card! Can you cover me? Puhlease? Huuuuuffffff."

Kitchen

Did I tell you that when I got home from my fantabulous Girls Get Away, I received an early Mother's Day present?

Well I did.

I walked in through the mudroom to a freshly painted kitchen, replete with a colorful bouquet of flowers on the kitchen table. I am pretty sure I dropped my bags on the floor and squealed with delight.

The color of the kitchen is Bees Wax from Porter Paints. It is, in my opinion, a warm mustard yellow - I feel like I am drinking my coffee each morning in a sunbeam. I feel the need to keep my kitchen much more tidy than before and am scheming about what to add to the walls.

Here is a pictorial progression of our kitchen (note, in the early pictures the place was MESS. And I can own that mess...but I am definitely hoping to keep it more how the kitchen appears in the final picture).

Pretty loft goal, eh?

Muddasday

When I was pregnant my Aunt Paula sent me a slew of books on parenting - particularly on being the parent to a girl. One book was Growing a Girl.

I have admittedly not yet read it (don't judge me, I keep it in my 'to-read' pile next to the bed. Right next to the Percy Jackson series that I am unabashedly reading).

The title, however, sticks in my head.

Growing a Girl.

That's what I do. Every day. I don't really accrue any time off. I haven't gotten a raise, or annual review, in almost three years.

But I get kisses.

And I'm told twenty-seven times a day Mama, I love you, too.

I put band aids on scraped knees and pin hair out of beautiful eyes.

I read the same books over and over, and go to story time, even when I don't want to.

I am a lap. I am hugging arms. I am an example and disciplinarian.

At times I am exhausted and overwhelmed and frustrated. Other times I am overjoyed and amused and hopeful.

Mostly I am tired.

Tired but content.

And today, I was told over and over Happy Muddasday, Mommy.

Mommy, I get you flowers. Yellow and purple and white. I help paint the kitchen. I bring you a flower pot Mommy.

Happy Muddasday Mom. I love you too.

It's not easy work, Growing a Girl, but it's the best damn job I've ever had.

fresh

Guess who will have fresh strawberries in her Cheerios this weekend?

The Girls Get Away

Last Friday I loaded up my car with board games, peach sparkletini, wine and cheese products and headed toward my Girls Get Away in New Buffalo, Michigan.

The harbor on Lake Michigan - - - - My ass kicking Bloody Mary - - - - Melissa enjoying Ali's martini

There were eight of us - four moms and four non-moms (although one will be in early fall), also spilt up as: four women who wake up at the crack of dawn and four women who still possess the ability to sleep in.

In the two and half days that we were there we had only one real meal - everything else that was consumed was essentially a snack or revolved around a cheese based dip.

Ali's martini ~ Hot and Dirty - - - - Michelle's version of an energy drink - - - - - - - Laura's usual ~ a Bacardi & Coke

We shopped at the outlets, sat in the sunshine on the deck chatting, wandered into town to have a scrumptious lunch. We drank our fair share, but were still in bed well before midnight. There was a lot of laughter, a few inappropriate photos (some that got erased, some that will never be published on the Internet. You're welcome, Ali).

Keelin & Karen in full decorating mode - - -- Mich with her hat & camera - -- - Sue & Keelin getting ready to bet on the Derby

We decorated our own over-the-top Derby Hats, played a cutthroat game of charades, and laughed and drank some more.

Andy informed me that a boys weekend would never involve a craft or going to bed before midnight. I informed him this was Girls Weekend. There were no rules, except each girl was allowed to do what they wanted when they wanted to.

But mostly I believe what we wanted to do was to be together. To have a few drinks. To not count calories and to laugh. Repeatedly.

That mission was accomplished...and I kind of wish Girls Weekend was not a yearly thing, but a monthly thing. Or a weekly occasion.

But then again, how many Derby Hats does a girl need?

A week with Gramma

In pictures....

Eagerly awaiting Gramma's arrival at the airport and occasionally yelling

Gramma! Where are you??

Exploring Findlay Market on Sunday morning. Tasting every free sample,

smelling every flower and having a lovely start to the day.

Addie and Gramma work on planting Addie's very own strawberry plant.

We now get to check the progress of the strawberries and the sunflowers

they planted about 47 times a day.

No visit is complete without a trip to the zoo. We fed the giraffes, rode the train, said hi to the gorillas and visited the Keas, which tried to eat Gramma's scarf, earrings and shoes. Sadly, we did not see the silly old orangutans.

We were very fancy 'ladies who lunched' at Mrs. Teapots. Not only did we have a scrumptious lunch and some tasty teas, but we were able to get all decked out in boas and hats. Addie even got her own itty bitty china teacup to sip out of. Faaaaancy.

We took a trip to the butterfly exhibit at Krohn's Conservatory. The butterflies floated and flitted and were very beautiful. The greenhouse got a bit hot and on the way out we saw a huge butterfly sitting on the floor. Hot, little cranky pants looked up at me and said

Mama. I wanna step on it.

With the arrival of beautiful weather at the week's end, we decided to grill out and top off our

dinner with toasted marshmallows. Addie went to bed sticky and happy.

We also took a trip to the museum, munched at Zips, shopped and played. Gramma

bought a new glider for our front porch, helped me dig up over a half dozen bushes,

transplanted hostas and played in the backyard.

Gramma and Addie had tea parties and played princess. Every night they snuggled and read stories. There were picnics on the patio and cuddles on the couch. The weeks was busy, but not packed. We did a lot of laughing and gallivanting ~ and now the house seems just a little bit too quiet and empty.