"but what about daddy?"

My husband bought me this for Christmas. I had hinted at it, way back in the spring or summer, and he did a good job remembering and getting the right thing. I am very happy with it, it's perfect, I would not change a thing (except the length of the chain... must go see jeweler soon).

The Babe, on the other hand, is quite concerned about this new necklace of mine. She noticed it right away, as it has been a long time since I have worn jewelry. She asked about it. She likes the stones, and is tickled pink that the stone that represents her is blue, as blue is her favorite color (that's a lucky coincidence). However, she thinks it's just terrible that there is a stone for me, a stone for her, and a stone for The Boy, but no stone for daddy.

I tried to explain to her... it's a mother's necklace. It's for me and my children, it's special. Daddy played a part, he made sure the people who make the necklace put the right stones in, and he made sure mommy was surprised on Christmas. Still, no good. "But what about Daddy? He doesn't get a stone?" I explained it again and she's still not having it.

"I'll tell you what, mommy, I'll share my stone with Daddy. We can both be blue. That way, we're all on there".

all is right with the world

Polly Pocket's pink flip flop was found yesterday. Ahhh.... and now I can sleep at night.

Merry Christmas!

interesting observation

The Babe, as I've noted previously, almost always wants to wear a dress these days. I try to get her just cotton jersey play dresses, nothing too fancy for every day - - but honestly, if we are leaving the house, she *must* have a dress on.

Today, as she was coloring, The Babe stopped and looked like she had just realized something life altering. She looked at me and said "You know what, mommy?.... Some people are girls and some people are boys; but some people are girls and they still wear pants!"

Wow. Who are these crazy pant-wearing girls, what's the matter with them, and can it be cured? LOL. The mind of a 5 year old...

special

The Babe has been telling me for a long time that she loves me. Obviously, this is special, and I never tire of hearing it. You see, The Babe has an odd habit of just walking up to me at random at any given time on any given day, stopping me from whatever I am doing just to say "Mommy, I love you". She actually does it so much, that it's become a bit of a joke. Of course I always tell her that I love her too. I never tire of it, because it's all true.

Well, The Boy has picked up on this little ritual recently. If he hears The Babe tell me that she loves me, he has to pipe up: "My love you, too, Mommy! My love you!" Of course, I think this is extra special, because it's sweet that he is just starting to join in.

The Boy still takes an afternoon nap most days, and when he wakes from his nap he often just wants to sit and snuggle. He'll come trooping downstairs, his face all rosy with sleep, holding tight to his babies, and just crawl into my lap wherever I may be sitting. He's been doing this for a while now. Shhhh.... don't tell The Babe, but my favorite times are during the afternoons when she is at school. If The Boy wakes while she is still out, he and I get some special snuggles all to ourselves. That's what happened today.

The Boy came downstairs and crawled into my lap as I watched Law and Order reruns on TNT. He snuggled in really well. He gave me what he calls "a big squeeze" and hugged me tight. I love our snuggle time, and I curled right into it. He stretched out, with his head in my lap, and I stroked his hair. He stopped watching Jerry Orbach long enough to look up at me, touch my face, and ever so quietly he said "Mommy, my love you", and then he smiled, turned is head and watched the rest of the episode quietly snuggling in my lap.

I have no idea how the episode ends. I just sat there thinking about how nothing could be more special than that.

crazy

That's me. I'm crazy. Just ask anyone who knows me. Certifiable. That's me.

When The Babe was littler, and we didn't have The Boy, I had a routine at night. I would put her to bed, and then come right downstairs to clean up the mess of the day: toys, games, what have you. I have this need to put it all away and make sure everything is where it belongs. Obviously, the next day, The Babe woke up and tore it all apart again, but I was at peace every night knowing that every thing was as it should be. It seems pretty reasonable, I think.

This has somehow evolved into me being totally obsessive and crazy.

Fast forward to now. Now I have two children, and arguably, twice the mess. Plus, as The Babe has grown up, her toys and games seem to include more bits and pieces to keep track of. Add to that the fact that it's no longer appropriate for me to pick up after the kids after they have gone to bed. We reached the stage a long time ago when they had to learn to be responsible for their own things, and pick up the mess that they've made. This also seems pretty reasonable, I think.

This is where I am crazy. Truly. I can't let go. I will honestly lose sleep if a piece of something is missing. I'll just keep lookng and looking and looking... sometimes I don't find it, and I have to go to bed, and the search continues the next day. We were missing the purple ring to the wooden stacking set for a good two weeks once, and my husband loved taunting me with it. He thinks it's hysterical that I care so much, he's just so laid back... I have to count all the cherries in the Hi-Ho Cherry-o game if I think there is even a chance one is missing. Each bucket NEEDS to have 10 cherries.

My husband's Auntie tells me that when her 3 kids made a big mess each day, she kept a little shovel. She says she would literally shovel up the pieces and put them in a basket, and that's how she would clean up. I was horrified! I think I may have stopped breathing for a second. First of all, you will lose all the pieces that way! Secondly, how will you ever find all the pieces without dumping the whole basket out again, and re-creating the mess? And thirdly, in case you didn't hear me the first time, you will lose all the pieces that way!!! I have never looked at Auntie quite the same way again.

Our most recent loss is one of Polly Pocket's shoes. Do any of you have any idea what I am up against here? It is a flip flop for a doll that is smaller than my hand. The shoe? The shoe is smaller than the fingernail on my pinky finger. I think it might be about the size of the fingernail on The Boy's pinky finger, and he's not even 3 years old. I will never find it. I know this. But it hasn't stopped me from looking incessantly at my floor for the past 24 hours. I even checked the heating vents. I actually did lose sleep over this last night. Of course, I also have a cold, but while I was up being miserably stuffy, all I could think about was that damn pink flip flop. I kid you not. Crazy.

sleepover

The Babe had a friend, Q, sleep over last night. This was the first time we hosted a sleepover. It was very spontaneous, which is probably good. Had it been planned, I'm betting I would have lost sleep ahead of time trying to think of things for 2 little girls to do that would make a special night.

Our neighbor had 3 wisdom teeth pulled yesterday, and she asked if we could bring her daughter, Q, home from school with us. The plan was that they would pick Q up in time for dinner. Well, dinner time came and no word from our neighbors... so of course we fed The Babe and her friend. When we did hear from our neighbors, the word we got was that Momma Neighbor was really feeling the loss of those teeth. I immediately offered to have Q spend the night. I did it without thinking, really. I just said the words and then thought about what that might mean afterwards.

My husband works Friday nights, so he was out the door. I would have 3 kids all to myself, last minute on a Friday night. Also, I know from experience that no actual "bedtime" is adhered to when a sleepover is in play, so I had just abandoned all my plans for a quiet evening. Shoot. I kind of wish I had thought before I spoke.

Lucky for me, last night just happened to be the night that Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and Frosty the Snowman were on TV. Thank goodness for small favors. By the time those shows were done, the kids were getting tired. It was 9:15 before I had them all tucked in and sleepy... a full 2 hours later than the regular bedtime around these parts. None of my evening plans were accomplished, and to top it all off, this morning I was expected to make pancakes! Ha! I generally don't cook breakfast (here's your breakfast bar, Kiddo, now shut it, Mommy's not a morning person), but since we had a guest - well, I felt kind of obligated.

Q was picked up by 8:30 this morning, and we were off on our regular Saturday of taking The Babe to ballet while The Boy and I stop for a latte (which he said to me again, several times today).

I think it was a good sleep-over... I mean, at least they actually did sleep!

he knows me so well...

The Boy, that is. Honestly, sometimes things he says or does just shock me.

The other day, I was out running errands with The Boy. I was feeling a little pressed for time, I was a little stressed out, and I probably had a bit of a short temper. The Boy just dealt with me quietly, sitting peacefully in his car seat and not giving me a hard time (thank goodness). We are driving along, and we pass a Starbucks.

"Look mommy! Look! Mommy needs a latte!"

I swear to you, that's exactly what he said. He knows me so well.