TILTW: 3/17-3/23

* Lovie now knows what the word Surprise means and was pleasantly surprised the other day when she got her bike. The pink one. She's taken to it right away and glows anytime she gets on it. I can't wait to see what she does when she can get outside and ride it (still waiting for the helmet).

* Lovie is proving to grow sweeter and sweeter every day. And it still amazes me and takes my breath away when she does or says something sweet. Like the other day when she told me she loved me during our morning commute to school. And that she wanted to give me hugs. Or how she gets so excited to share donut holes with a couple of her friends at school in the morning. Or that she gets upset when another baby or child is upset and just wants everyone to be happy and have fun. What a heart she has at 2 years old. My goodness can some adults really learn a thing or two from her.

* I still cannot say enough good things about the Yeah Write community and all the tremendous writing and feedback that goes around during the weekly link-up. But more than that, for me personally, I adore the way it's sparked my writing juices again. I've been wanting to write more (and have for the most part), but the fact that I'm now actually thinking about writing before I sit down and write? That's awesomesauce to me.

What about you? Any awesomesauce enter your life this week? ;)

a Once Upon a Time story

Once upon a time, there was this little girl with this mop of curls who loved the color pink and bikes. Oh how she wanted a bike. A pink bike.

She pouted and did everything in her 2 year old power to look as pathetic as she could anytime she saw bikes and would spend hours (maybe not really hours) telling her Mama and Daddy that she wanted a bike. A pink one.

Her Mama and Daddy wanted to get her a bike but her Daddy, being the research-everything-to-make-the-best-buy-and-decision type of guy, needed to research for the perfect bike and helmet to buy. Once the decision was made, an order was placed and the waiting game began.

Then one day the bike showed up and Daddy was home to put it together while Mama told the little girl, upon picking her up from school, that she had a surprise for her when they got home.

And so they entered the home and there was Daddy with a bike. A pink one. Just for the little girl.

The little girl, with a smile washed over her face, approached the bike, climbed on, and started riding (inside the house despite the 85 degree temperature outside because the helmet still was to come).

"Look at me!" she said over and over again. "I ride a bike!"

Until bedtime she "rode" her bike here and there between eating dinner and watching Olivia. And this morning, when the little girl was leaving for school with her Mama, another smile washed across her face when she spotted the pink bike leaning against the wall.

"I ride my bike," she told her Mama as they walked out of the house with smiles on their faces.

And the little girl and her new pink bike lived happily ever after.

The end.

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pssst, if you'd be so kind, how 'bout voting for me- #37- in this week's awesome yeah write competition. you can vote for four others, too. go on and check them out- there's some awesome reads!

she takes my breath away

i know she kinda looks mad here but the sun was in her eyes and she was concentrating walking on this ledge and catching up with a little boy she befriended... taken 3/20/12 at the park

About an hour ago, while driving Lovie to school before driving myself to work, I got stuck behind some jackhole going 10 under the speed limit. So I honked my horn. All while the Wiggles played in the background.

Lovie didn't say anything. We live in the city and I guess she's just used to honking horns by now.

A minute later, when said jackhole wouldn't speed up or move out of the way (a friggin semi passed us!), I mumbled something negative under my breath. I don't even know what I mumbled, to be honest, and while it probably did not include a cuss word, the tone in which the mumble exited my mouth would let even a foreigner know I wasn't happy.

"What's wrong, Mama?" Lovie asks from the back seat.

Is she not the sweetest thing ever? My lord I am so blessed.

"Oh nothing, sweet girl," I replied. "Just that some people really shouldn't be allowed to drive."

"It's OK," she said. Then, after a couple seconds she said, "You know I love you, Mama."

I nearly cried.

Honest to god every time I hear her say she loves me, I nearly cry- even though she generally only says it after I say it. Still, my heart nearly explodes. Every single time. But to hear her tell me this just because she wants me to be happy? It takes my breath away.

"Oh sweet baby girl, I love you, too. So, so much!"

"I wanna give you hug," she continued.

What is going on here?!? Wow.

"Oh honey, me too," I answered. "We're almost at school and as soon as we get there, I'm gonna give you lots and lots of hugs and kisses."

And I did.

And then she didn't want me to leave and the teacher had to come carry her away as she kicked and screamed and reached for me.

But she loves me and I love her and she's the sweetest thing in the whole world and by golly, life is damn good.

not a Robot so a Bitch?

Something ridiculous happened the other day: I purposely made my sweet, 2 year-old girl cry.

What kind of mother does that?

Don’t answer; I know the answer already! And that’s not at all who I am...the type of mother I am.

When I PMS, it’s something fierce. I get extremely irritable and uncomfortable. Lately the cramps wrap around my body to my back, too. This is when I want nothing more than to rock myself in a dark corner of a room with all the shit food I could jam down my pie hole.  Honestly, the PMS gets so bad that I tend to shy away from people to avoid evil looks or comments that I may emit. But my kid? My sweet little 2 year old girl? I can’t really stay away from her.

So Sunday- after playing at the park, eating lunch, and napping- Lovie was playing with some play-dough in her high chair (the only place I’ll allow her to play with it- strapped in and play-dough in site). And I joined her. Make a snowman, Mama? Make a house? Make a dog? Make Zoe? (the cat)

At one point I was making a dog and she went to grab for the play-dough to Make a big circle and I barked, “NO!”

I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t say it quietly. I barked at her. 

Like a fucking mad dog. 

A bitch.

She quickly took back her hand and looked down at her play-dough and I thought I was going to vomit from disgust.

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME THAT I WOULD BARK AT MY GIRL OVER FUCKING PLAY-DOUGH?!?

“Honey,” I said, still squishing the dough. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to yell like that.”

She wouldn’t look at me.

I touched her silky soft chin and told her again, very gently, how sorry I was.

When our eyes met… well… I’m honestly not sure how I held the vomit inside. But I did. And instead, I let the tears out as hers rolled down her sweet round cheeks.

“Please don’t cry, baby girl,” I said, “Mama didn’t mean that; I’m really so very sorry.”

She looked so unbelievably sad...and hurt.

And it was because of me- her mama.

Shortly after, she cheered up- we both did. Daddy gave her a bath and got her dressed for bed. We all watched Bubble Guppies- Lovie on her little chair, me sprawled on the couch with my phone playing Words with Friends, the husband trying to download more episodes.

After a minute she looked back at me and got up and climbed onto the couch to sit with me. Like she does every single night.

I sat more upright so I could get my arm around her as she folded into me. Every so often she’d gently lay her head on my breast or tummy. I scooped her into me more closely so that she melted into me. 

My Lovie and me.

That’s the mama I am- the one she leans on whenever she needs, the one she snuggles with every night, the one who reads her favorite stories over and over and over again, the one who sings silly songs with her...

Not that mean bitch who wouldn’t let her play with the play-dough.

It’s one thing for my child to be upset at me because we have to leave the park, but for something like barking at her? Hell No. It’s unacceptable. And it will not happen again. It can't. We both are better than that.

I mean, I totally get this kind of stuff happens with parenting. We're not friggin robots, we're human beings and sometimes even the most patient (of which I absolutely am not) lose it sometimes. And I know... I know she won't remember this one incident. But the thing is, I have a feeling if I just let it go and not really acknowledge it, I'll fall back on these same excuses again and again and my behavior will snowball. And she will start remembering and probably start behaving in the same fashion. Then what?

It's just something I really don't want to find out. And besides all that, she deserves more from me.

My

it's crazysauce to me that this photo is from yesterday, March 18, 2012... that she's not wearing socks or shoes or a JACKET... that i have a farmer's tan... that that hat is an adult sized hat b/c kids sized hats don't fit atop her mop... that i can't find an adult sized hat for my own head cuz of my mop... that it's not even Spring (tomorrow!!) and we were outside sweating while the a/c was cooling off the cats, Zoe & Little Cat.

on being aToddler: the Listicle

Toddlers and little kids have always brought a smile to my face. Their innocence and pure joy over the simplest things make it hard not to smile. Since having one of my own, however, I've come to understand that being a toddler can be tough work, too!

10 Reasons Why Being a Toddler is Rough

10. People are constantly looking at you, commenting on how cute you are, asking questions about you (What’s your name? How old are you?).

09. People are constantly touching your hair, squeezing your cheeks, wanting to give you hugs and kisses.

08. When you go to a restaurant, the wait staff gives you crayons or maybe even a balloon.

07. People love listening to you just to hear your sweet voice.

06. People are always smiling and laughing with you when you're in good spirits, and pouty when you're not.

05. Your parents carry you around when you ask, “Carry you?” with a smile.

04. People change your diaper and wipe your butt all while singing songs or tickling you.

03. People make you food, serve it to you, and cut it all up, and when you say, “Halp you peas,” and hold your fork to your Mama, she will even feed you.

02. The only thing to watch on TV is Team Umizoomi and Bubble Guppies.

01. And the number one reason why being a toddler sucks… you’re still waiting on that bike that you want. The pink one.

TILTW: 3/11-3/16

* I like being home alone. I needed to stay home last Saturday (gas company was supposed to come) while the hubs took Lovie to gymnastics (actually they ended up at the park for an hour) and while I ended up doing a lot of cleaning and would've rather have slept, watched TV, or anything else, it was kind of nice being home alone. I love my girl more than anything but ... yeah, it was nice being home alone. Just for that short time (1.5 hours), at least. I think I'm going to see if he wants to do the same tomorrow. I know he misses her dearly during the week (he barely makes her bedtime some nights, while completely missing it other nights) so this will be good for both of them and maybe I can sneak in a pedicure or something (which I haven't done in about a year)!

* Once again, I cannot say enough good things about the Yeah Write community. Wow. The comments I got on my Pink Pink PINK piece were awesome. I loved hearing that I'm not the only one who's not a fan of the abundance of pink shit that our eyes are greeted with when we have little girls. It also inspired my new blog header which I, for one, am really loving. But, more than that, the writers and blogs that are out there... WOW!! Even if you're not much of a writer, it's worth checking out some of the other blogs out there to read some really great stuff!

* Lovie really, really, REALLY wants a bike. A pink one.

* Some people have far too much time on their hands as exhibited by the above screen shot of my spam folder just before deleting the influx of "comments" left this week, and before I quit allowing Anonymous comments. That's just what I could fit on one screen shot. Ridiculous.

* I think I've found the site that will replace Picnik for me: Fotoflexer.

Baby, Baby, Baby OH!

This morning went down like most others: after I got out of the shower, I went into Lovie’s room, turned off the sound machine, opened her closet door and turned on the light and continued getting ready before returning a couple minutes later to an open-eyed, very bed-headed little girl.

I got her dressed, she brushed her teeth while I tried fixing her mop. I deposited her onto our bed so she could cuddle with sleeping Daddy while drinking some milk and watching a few minutes of Sesame Street while I got dressed and gathered our stuff for the day.

Sesame Street ended and it was time to get her jacket on, say goodbye and give hugs and kisses to Daddy, and go.

“Baby!” she exclaimed as the latest (adorable) Huggies commercial came on- the one with all the dads sitting in recliners holding onto their babies as they slept to show how Huggies don’t leak.

I finally got the TV turned off, her jacket on, we said our goodbyes and got down to the car.

“Honey?” I said, buckling her into her car seat.  “Do you know where babies come from?”

A little smirk quickly washed over her face.

“IdunnobutIjustsawsome* on da tee-bee,” she answered.

“Oh, from the TV,”  I repeated.

She smiled some more and said, “Anddaygoto* da park on da swings!”

“And they’re at the park on the swings,” I repeated, nodding my head in agreement, smiling as I thought about how insanely smart she is.

“Yes!” she said, still smiling while cradling her sippy cup in one arm while holding a pinecone she calls an Acorn in her other hand. She looked away from me, still smiling, and I could see her thinking about her visit to the park the other day when she collected the pinecone with Daddy, when she said Hi to all the babies she asked to kiss.

This little chica is such a people person. She loved the bigger kids when she was a baby and now (2) she loves the bigger kids and the babies, too. She’s always commenting on “awwww how coot” the babies are, always going right up to them at the park, always wanting to swing next to them as she waves and says Hi to them. She’s got a couple baby dolls at home that she’ll carry around with her, tuck into a bed, wrap in a blanket, push in her little stroller.

My sweet baby girl, who will tell me, “I your baby,” when I ask if she’s a big girl says that babies come from the TB and the park (on the swings). And I totally agree with her and will have to remember to tell her so when she asks me where they come from one day in the future!

*she sometimes mumbles a bunch of words together super fast as if they were one word (usually in a higher pitch, always impossible to decipher) before the main words come out so this is just my interpretation of what that mumble is

4.) Are you feeling brave? Ask your child where babies come from and share their answers.
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Also, if you'd like more, check out #7 in this week's yeah write.

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pink pink PINK

Rumor has it that when we were little, my brother dominated with his left hand but my dad pretty much forced him to use his right hand.

My dad forced him to rewrite things with his right hand, throw a ball with his right hand, use a fork with his right; my dad forced my brother to become right-handed.

My dad forced my brother.

There are far much worse things in the world to be forced to do, but I still find this rumor to be disturbing. My dad is not the forcing type. He can’t hold his tongue, admitting to saying whatever is on his mind even when it’s hurtful, but he’s not really a forceful person. And besides that… really? You don’t like the fact that your child is using his left hand?!? You can’t be grateful he’s at least using his hand, period? Seems so silly to me.

Last week when Lovie and I were visiting my dad and eating dinner with him and some of his friends (he lives in an independent retirement community), his friends commented, “Oh she’s left handed, too?” Apparently their granddaughter is left-handed, and apparently being left-handed is some freaky, devilish thing to old folk.

I chuckled and told them that she uses both hands but has been using her left for the most part since very early on. My father looked at me with a bit of shock and then looked at Lovie who sat next to him, fork in hand, trying to pick up some cut-up “sgetti” with her left hand.

“No, you use-ah dis hand-ah,” he told her in his thick Italian accent, trying to tell her to use her right hand.

I was dumbfounded.

“She’s doing fine,” I calmly said. “Please let her use whatever hand she wants.”

“Oh I-ah know-ah,” he said. “I was jus-ah tryin’ to see-ah if she could use-ah the right hand-ah.”

That was all that was said about that.

Yesterday, Lovie and I stopped at the park again. We were there for over an hour and Lovie didn’t do anything with the playground equipment. Instead, she spent her time ogling the bikes that were parked next to the playground.  She’d make her way to a bike, a girly pink frilly bike, and stand and/or crouch next to it and touch different things on it before looking at me with a sad, pathetic I-want-a-bike face.

When she’d finally come over to me to talk, her face was still so pathetic looking and she would say, “Mama? I want a bike.”

“You want a bike, baby girl?”

“A pink one.”

“You want a pink bike, huh?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll have to talk to daddy about that.” Or, because we had the same conversation over and over again and again, “I know you want a bike, sweet baby.”

My girl not only wants a bike, she wants a pink one. A super girly pink bike that my eyes burn when seeing.

Holy hell do I hate pink. I’ve discussed that so many times on this blog. I hate pink.

But my girl, loves pink. She loves her pink princess dress (a pink tutu I got her for Valentine’s Day), she loves her pink blanket, she loves pink.

And now she wants a pink bike. Not just a bike, which she’s wanted for some time now, but a pink one.

It used to be that I would never allow pink in the house, never buy it and hide anything pink gifted to us. I hate pink. But I always said that I’d cave once she could ask for it; I would never force my hatred of pink onto her.

So I guess it’s time to get my left-hand dominating girly girl a pink bike, huh?

a weekend listicle

10 things from the Weekend: a Listicle

linking this photo up with The Paper Mama

* Lovie and I stopped off at the park on Friday; we were the only people there. It was cold so I put a pair of baby legwarmers on her arms and hands so her hands wouldn't get so cold (hence the robotic look in the photo).  While she was climbing one of the ladders, she lost her foot and landed- crotch first- onto one of the bars. Oh dear MY crotch was hurting after that. I felt so bad for her but she wanted to keep playing and went ahead and climbed the same ladder again. Rock star kiddo.

* Saturday morning, the hubs took Lovie to gymnastics while I stayed home to clean and wait for the gas company which never showed. After they got back home, Lovie asked to take a nap (seriously) so she took one and shortly after she woke, my mom came over. While she was napping, the hubs told me how it had been one of the best days of his life. "She was so happy!" he said. Turns out they were early to gymnastics so they stopped at the park near the gymnastics place since it was so beautiful out.  When it was time to leave for gymnastics, Lovie asked to stay at the park so they did. And they played and climbed and swung and slided.  "She was just so happy," he said. "She would do something and laugh about it and she was just so happy. It was the greatest day of my life." It was awesome listening to him gush. "That's why we stop off at the park so much," I commented. "Because it really does make her so happy."

* After "Gamma" came, we talked about going back to the park. Friday's cold temperatures turned upward. It was beautiful out. We never made it out, though. Instead we all played Tea Party until a pizza arrived. Then we ate and watched a little TV before putting Lovie to bed and rushing out the door. Gamma was spending the night so the hubs and I went to a movie- Project X. Lovie will never be leaving the house without us.

* Yesterday was incredible. The temperature reached 70, there were no clouds in the sky, the birds were chirping like crazy. An absolute picture perfect day. Lovie, Gamma, and I headed out to the park pretty early. I wanted to bottle the day it was so perfect. When we got home, fresh, homemade waffles were waiting for us- thanks the hubs.

Gamma got Lovie this Tea Set for Easter- this photo is from February when she was playing with it at her cousin's house

* We chatted for a bit, Lovie poured everyone tea. The sun beamed in, the cats stretched in the sun puddles. My mom and I played Words with Friends even though we sat across the table from one another and could've just played Scrabble.

* I made ham and egg cups (so damn easy and good) and potatoes for lunch. We all chowed down despite just having had waffles a couple hours prior.

* Lovie went down for a nap. Gamma left to go home. I took a nap.

* I woke, then Lovie woke and we had some Doritos.

* We thought about going back outside, out to the park. The weather was just so unbelievably perfect. I'm generally not an outdoorsy type of person; I don't mind sitting my fat ass inside. But there was just something about this weekend, about yesterday that made me want to be outside. At one point, I even commented to the hubs how I kind of wished we had a deck or a backyard; I wanted to go out, but I didn't want to walk 6 blocks to the park. So Lovie and I watched Bubble Guppies while Daddy made some sugar cookies.

* I gave Lovie a bath and washed her hair and fell even more in love with the Mixed Chicks hair products we got the other week. Man, does the shampoo smell good. Man, does the conditioner kick ass and make it easier to comb through her hair. Man, does the leave-in conditioner work nicely. And man oh MAN do I LOVE the tangle-tamer spray for the next day. This line of products is sincerely worth every single penny. It's not cheap but a little of each goes a long way and Lovie's hair is just way more manageable.

How was your weekend?