Happy Mother's Day!

One week later, we are all still sick. It has been a terrible week full of fevers, coughing, congestion, headaches and even some vomiting! I feel like I could recover if only I could spend a full day resting, but I have a toddler and toddlers don't rest. When I try to sleep, she is there jumping on the bed singing, "Mama don't sleep!" When I try to make a movie time where we'd all just sit on the couch for several hours, she has me on my feet every 10 minutes saying she wants a blanket, a snack, a drink, medicine, a different snack, more drink, different drink, vitamins, her dolly, her teddy bear, more snack, no--a popsicle, nooooo-- popcorn, more popcorn, more drink.

If you are sick and you don't have small children, just take a moment and bask in your solitude. Be grateful that no one is jumping on the bed beside you, kicking you in the face every so often. Enjoy the fact that when you sip your tea, you aren't expected to share it with anyone. If you are vomiting, note that no one is watching you, grabbing onto your legs and saying "That's gross, mama" and say a little prayer of thanks. You probably get to lay on the couch and read a book or play a video game or watch TV. No one is whining at you that they want to watch Dora the Explorer, are they?

Rabbit, rabbit (a day late)

On Friday, the Bumble and I went to the library to check out some new books. She was perusing the board books on one aisle, while I looked through some Dr. Seuss books just around the corner. A little boy toddled up to Bumble and she greeted him with enthusiasm.

"Hello, boy! You read books with me? Hi, I see you! You read books, little boy?"

He did not speak but merely coughed right in her face. A mini Pestilence, a Ponyman of the Penultimate Times. The Bumble developed a fever that afternoon and started coughing that evening.

And now it's Monday and everyone is sick.

In better news, though, we have a warm-blooded pet now!

We adopted this Giant Chinchilla rabbit from the SPCA. He is litter-box trained! He is cuddly and playful. He even likes the toddler (and she likes him, too.) So at least we have a big bunny to cuddle while we are all sick and miserable on the couch.

At last!

I have been waiting for this day.

After you finish the floors, Bumble, I have some shirts that need buttons, the silverware needs polishing, and since you're so low to the ground anyway, why don't you go ahead and dust the baseboards?


I'm just kidding. We don't have silverware, it's all stainless steel.

The world is her toybox

The Bumble spent all afternoon playing with a pebble and cardboard tube. This settles it-- tomorrow, I am getting rid of all her toys, starting with the ones that sing.

Beauty Salon

The Bumble is pretty crazy about my sister Chrissy, who is a hair stylist in Florida. Chrissy is pretty much the most glamorous lady Bumble has ever seen and when Chrissy is around, Bumble wants to be by her side every second. (Which is not a problem because Chrissy also wants Bumble surgically attached to her hip.) When Chrissy is not around, the Bumble talks about aunt Rissy and wants to play beauty salon. And that's how I wound up with a sticky mess of hair that nothing will get rid of.

Last Saturday, I was watching TV with Mike and we were ignoring the Bumble, as usual, when she came into the room and climbed up behind me on the couch so that she could play with my hair. She was having a grand old time, and I didn't realize until later that she had a handful of Pineapple Violet Sugar body scrub in her chubby little palms at the time. I have tried everything to get this stuff out.

I washed it twice with shampoo under hot, hot water. I did a hot oil treatment. I deep conditioned it. I tried tea tree oil, dish soap, vinegar rinse. I even poured a milk over my head. Nothing worked and days later, my hair is still exactly as sticky as it was on Saturday.

So, I am making a hair appointment for a "detox" treatment at the local Aveda school. And a cut because now my ends are fried from overwashing and generally bizarre grooming behavior. It turns out that all that will only cost $30 (+ tip) and I get to spend an entire baby-free afternoon at a spa getting a massage and drinking tea. So... thanks Bumble! Beauty Salon!

Birdwatching

 

My sister Ashley got us a wonderful little birdhouse for Christmas and now that it is finally spring, we hung it up! In only a few days, we had a sweet little house sparrow couple move in. The Bumble and I spent hours watching them flick from the ground back to the birdhouse with little bits of dried grass in their beaks all day.  Our neighbors on the north side must think we are a family of creeps.

As an added bonus, here is a video of the Bumble attempting to whistle for the dog we are watching:

Common courtesy

Mike and the Bumble were taking a morning stroll through the neighborhood when someone on the second-level balcony of an apartment building nearby suddenly sneezed. The Bumble looked for the source of the sneeze and finding no obvious one, reached the natural toddler conclusion and called out, "Gesundheit, House!"

Creepy Baby

The Bumble and I were playing hide and go seek for a while this morning. It was always really easy to find her because she always hid in the last place she found me hiding. Also, she giggled incessantly. The last round was my turn to find her and after I found her, she kept insisting that I find the little girl who was also hiding. I couldn't find her (since she doesn't exist), and the Bumble got very frustrated. Finally she stomped her little foot and pointed behind the couch and said, "She's right there!" I still didn't see her.

This comes right on the heels of another creepy incident this morning while Bumble was playing with her toys in the living room. She suddenly gasped and said, "Mama! Hear that? Listen." I listened but heard nothing. Not a bird, not a truck, not the train, not the furnace. Only the low hum of the computer. I said, "What do you hear?" And she said, "Little boy! Little boy talking, Mama! Hear him? Listen!" She cocked her head and listened for a few seconds, then laughed and started playing with her toys again.

Kids are creepy.

Why are you all so obsessed with headwear anyway?

Nosy busybodies who know way more about your baby than you do all seem to take one of three approaches when it comes to "giving advice". (All extremely rude, by the way.)

1. The direct approach. The busybody approaches you and your bundle, coos over the baby, then tells you straight up "That baby should be wearing a hat."

2. The passive-aggressive approach. The busybody loudly stage-whispers to her companion, herself, or the nearest clothes rack, "Can you believe that woman has her baby out in this weather without a hat? Tsk."

3. The crazy approach. This is my favorite. The busybody roleplays as your baby. She pretends to cry, rubs her eyes and begins to wail, "Wah! Wah! I wish my mommy would put a hat on my head! Waaaah! My head is so cold! Waaaahhhhhh!"

We met with a number 3 this morning while out on a walk, which quickly turned into a light jog before number 3 could really get going. Luckily, I've found that busybodies rarely give chase.

Sensory Table

This week has been a harsh re-introduction to winter. Stuck inside, I've had to come up with all new ways to entertain the Bumble. What haven't we done yet?

We've never played with black beans before.

Or shaving cream.





Or wild capybaras!

(Not pictured.)


I really hope the sun reappears soon.

Carefully crafted advertising

When I asked her if she wanted to take a bath, she said "NOOOOOOOOO!" and ran away screaming. Then I asked if she'd prefer to go skinny-dipping in our heated indoor swimming pool and then play beauty salon. I got a much better response.

The paints are going to live somewhere higher from now on

Today when the Bumble said "Mama?" this is what I saw when I turned around.

she's sof

When the Bumble picks out her own outfits, it is sof!

"Sof" of course being her own invented slang, short for "so funny." See, she was saying "That's so funny" so many times a day, it was really eating into her overall productivity. Now that she's realized it can be shortened to "That's sof!," it has freed up hours of her time better spent on inventing more cool outfits.

Guys and Dolls

It was cold this morning when we left the house to go grocery shopping, so the Bumble got bundled. This is her latest favorite ensemble: Her blue fleece jacket, a warm red scarf, and of course her father's 1980 Olympics hat.



She grabbed her baby doll and we were on our way. After we finished shopping, she cuddled her baby doll at the check-out line. An old man in the next lane kept looking over at the Bumble with a very concerned expression on his face. I didn't think anything of it, but when we finished paying, he rushed up to us and thrust a toy car into the Bumble's hands. She looked up, very confused. I did the same. He said, "Here! I loved playing with these when I was a little boy!"

I smiled and not knowing quite what to say, I turned to the Bumble and said, "Oh! How nice! You've been wanting one of these, haven't you, Sweetie?"

The old man sighed and said, "Of course he has! THIS is what little boys like to play with!" as he shook his head at the baby doll. Then he said, "Here, Sport. Take another one" as he gave the Bumble a second toy car. I said, "Thank you?" and he walked away.

So I guess the moral of the story is... mothers of small boys should let them play with baby dolls if they want to get free toy cars from old men at the grocery store.

Bumbleangelo

The Bumble finally drew on the walls. I was cooking dinner, she swiped a pencil, and when I walked into the living room, she had a huge masterpiece of graphite scribbles on the wall. I got a rag and some baking soda and set to work removing it while she watched with great interest. While I scrubbed, I said, "Oh, no. You drew on the wall with pencil! You're only supposed to draw on paper and now there is a big mess! Mama has to scrub the walls now."

She gazed at me sympathetically, put her arm around me and patted my shoulder. Then she murmured very soothingly, "Ay, ay. Poor Nicki. Poor, poor Nicki. Ay, ay."

Baby's got the blues

Lately when things don't go Bumble's way, she starts crying and saying over and over again, "I get down!" Since she is also going through a phase where she is enamored by song and dance, Mike and I have been constructing blues songs for her tantrums. She provides the rhythms "I get down, I get down."

My sippy is empty-- I get down, I get down
Wasn't juice anyway-- I get down, I get down
I need something harder to wa-ash my bloo-ooos awaaaay

Maybe someday we'll add the guitar to the mix and take this show on the road.



It's not all tantrums, though! Here's a picture of the Bumble spying on her pet snail using the magnifying box that her aunt Tess got her for Christmas.

Happy 2011!

We had a wonderful Christmas. We were flown to Florida to be with my family and there we were spoiled rotten. The Bee is still telling me she wants pizza for breakfast and asking me what happened to her doting populace.

She got her very own Dora the Explora bed!

She got allllll the farm animals. (A cow says Moo, by the way.)

She worshipped her older cousin "Yaykob," though he was less impressed with her. ("She can't even say my name right.")

She opened all the presents and got all the toys.

She practically got to live on the swing for a week.

And when we got home, our porch was covered in packages from Mike's family. And though Mike was weary from a long day's travel, we had a second little Christmas right away and were spoiled all over again.

Yes, it was a very good Christmas. But she can't expect the same for next year. Santa doesn't look kindly on little girls who punch airline pilots once in the face and then again when their mother is apologizing.