| | Ah, those delicious first five minutes after the kids have gone to bed. I stretch and loll like a cat in a sunsplash, finally able to do all the things I've been waiting to do all day: eat my dinner using both hands, watch TV, pee without two little inquiring faces peering in the door.
But sometimes those five minutes are cut short when I realize that the floor is coated in a thin layer of toys and books and other kiddie detritus. Then I have to clear up the mess before I can relax. Today, however, I decided to take a look around and see all the disorder as evidence of my happy, messy life.
-Babygirl's little green Crocs were halfway up the hallway. Babygirl had kicked them off in eager haste because she and D had brought me home an ice cream cone and she wanted to be sure I shared some ice cream with her.
-D's pile of clean laundry had been tampered with. Today I was folding laundry and Babygirl sauntered over to ask her usual, "What you doing?" I offered to teach her how to help me fold laundry and you would have thought I had offered to teach her alchemy to turn everything into cotton candy. She pounced on the jumble of D's t-shirts and boxers and started to mash them up with her hands. "No no, sweetie, like this," I showed her how to fold D's boxers in half. She picked up a pair and held them up--not that D wears giant bloomers or anything, but she was completely obscured by red-on-white hearts. It made me realize how little she still is, if she could disappear into one leg of her Daddy's drawers. Like most toddlers, who are so pleased to help that they overhelp, she later found the neat stack of folded laundry and tried to refold D's underwear.
-There was a clean patch on the floor, a circle with about a 12-inch radius. Doodlebug had been uncommonly weepy today, and she wouldn't let me out of her sight for very long. So every time I went to the bathroom, I sat her on the carpet, moved her into a fat little tripod, and did my business. It's always the same: she balances pretty well and smiles at me until she starts to list to one side. When the listing reaches the point of no return, the smile suddenly vanishes and plop! the kid is supine. I have figured out that the distance from her rump to the scalp is about 12 inches, so I try to make sure there is a 12-inch buffer around her when I set her down. Aaaaaaand of course in this picture I have forgotten to do so. Anyway.
-A smattering of letters and a pile of books sat next to the Bumbo. I set Doodlebug down in the Bumbo and ran off to answer the phone. I came back a few minutes later and Babygirl had set up shop, all ready to entertain the baby until kingdom come. Babygirl had lined up some magnetic letters (they spelled "CURALPH", by the way) in front of Doodlebug and had opened up a book. "Read to baby!," she beamed at me. And then, in her usual fashion, she immediately forgot about the baby and scampered off, scattering the letters with her chubby foot.
(I made her sit back down so I could take a picture.)
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| | Posted 4/6/2009 10:07 PM - 19 Views - 2 eProps - 2 comments
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