oh my goodness, i have a girl

Sometimes Pink needs to cry, just to cry. She's even said on occasion that she's "crying just cuz I need to cry." We were born this way??!! Tear after tear falls until she's managed to get "it" all out, whatever "it" is. And the best part? Quite a bit like her mama, she can't always even understand it herself, much less can she explain it to anyone else. Yep, she's a girl alright.

while on summer vacation i haven't...

updated the blog much
packed enough boxes for the upcoming move
cleaned out our closet
washed the car
unpacked the diaper bag
written all of the letters on my to-do list
frozen enough dinners for when I go back to work

But I have...

read book after book after book after book
enjoyed several tea parties
gone swimming to practice "scoops & kicks" with a little girl who wants to swim on her own
colored pictures to memorize Gal. 5:22
crept around the corner to watch an imagination at work
taken notes of conversations we've had
gone on dates with my husband
made dinner for my husband and daughter
kept the house cleaner than when I'm working
scheduled play dates for Pink
felt a baby move
endured a few zerbert sessions from daddy & Pink for the new baby
gone on walks (fewer than I wanted to, but oh well)
stolen many, many kisses in the middle of the day, just because
given timeouts and spankings
dried tears
tucked in for each and every nap
styled hair with barrettes and bows
played dress-up
taken naps

All in all, it was quite a vacation. Not productive in the sense of my to-do list, but my heart is certainly better off for it. When I drop her off early tomorrow morning, I'll do it knowing that I took advantage of our 5 weeks together. I loved being her full-time mom.

And it reminds me of a poem that I found before I had Pink that has kept me going in the midst of a busy work schedule, loads of unfolded laundry, dishes in the sink, social engagements I can't attend, etc, etc, etc. I'm sure you've seen a version of it before, but it bears repeating often.

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“Song for a Fifth Child”

Mother, oh mother, come shake out your cloth!
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing and butter the bread,
Sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking!

Oh, I’ve grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren’t her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

Oh, cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
But children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs; dust, go to sleep.
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton
(first appeared, Ladies Home Journal, October 1958)

the remix

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.
"You make me happy, when guys are great..."

You make me happy when guys are great? Surely that means nothing to her at the moment, but someday, I'll fill her in on the little ways she messed up the song to create a totally different, but funny, meaning.

he's back on my good list

He can't be all bad if, even after my inspiring beauty sleep, Beloved sends me this text message out of the clear blue sky:

"I have a captivating wife who makes the straight and narrow exciting!"

I guess I can let go of the horse comparison thing.

this is it

I've come to the conclusion that all I really need in life is a live-in nanny in the form of my sister, who would of course take regular breaks to go live elsewhere for a couple days when we need family alone time, but would otherwise just want to do things for us.

As I'm catching up on blogging and email and just overall being lazy, she's cooking the dinner we requested.

She also kept Pink awake in the car earlier to ensure a nice long nap at home.

And she's done more than her share of dishes.

And when I was really craving something to drink other than water last night, she ran to the store to buy margarita mix so I could enjoy a frozen concoction with my dinner.

And tomorrow she's taking Pink on a date for a few hours so I can pack up lots of boxes to prepare for our upcoming move.

And then after we all eat lunch and Pink goes down for a nap, she's making me a latte to sip in my bubble bath, which will be followed by my b-day present: a one hour massage (nice to be related to a massage therapist).

Yes, I think a live-in nanny will do quite nicely.

uh-oh

Ladies,
Something is seriously wrong when your pregnant "beauty sleep" inspires your husband to make the following remark:

"Sawing logs? No you weren't sawing logs. My dad saws logs. That was more like horses!"

Which leads me to wonder, if God wanted the family to stay in tact and the husband to stick around, why in the world did he make pregnancy so ugly?

I must defend myself by noting that I did not snore on my previous pregnancy, and I most certainly do not snore on any kind of regular basis. Thank you very much.

heard around the house

Daddy: "Come on Cinderella, let's get out of the car."
Pink: "I am. I AM Cindagella!"

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All three of us were sharing a croissant and laughing about nothing in particular, when Pink said, "This is the best family EVER!"

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Mama: "Pink, do you like books?"
Pink: "Yes, I DO! I learn about every letter all around me and there are lots of angels and pictures all around me."
(not sure what the angels reference is all about)

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Daddy: "If the baby's a boy, what do you think his name should be?"
Pink: "Ummmm, I think we should name him Dora the Explorer."

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"Mama when I get all growed up and you be a little baby, you can tickle the baby in my tummy."

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Mama: (in response to Pink pointing in the direction of her dad, whom we were picking up) "Do you see your good-looking daddy? Isn't he handsome?!"
Pink: (pointing more emphatically in the direction of her dad) "NO!"

what was the object of her enthusiastic pointing? why, a trash truck, of course.

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(when I had hot rollers in my hair)
"Mama, you look so beautiful you look like a star. You look like a rocket star."

we're thankful...

...that this little girl was born in a country where her parents are free to teach her about the love of Jesus

...that she prays to him, and we don't worry that someone will overhear and then impose dire consequences

...that we have the means to celebrate tonight with a picnic dinner, a concert, and fireworks

...that the little one I'm carrying isn't breaking some kind of government regulation on reproduction

...that we will be free to choose the schools our children attend

...that I still get goosebumps & tears whenever members of the military, past or present, are recognized

...that there will be parades all over the country where soldiers will march, and that they will receive the honor of standing ovations and salutes.

...that Beloved is here at home with us and not off fighting somewhere

catching up

After 2 weeks of uncooperative internet service, I'm way behind on posts. Starting with Father's Day because the pics are just too darn funny to wait on, we headed for Disneyland with Papa & Grandma Lee where we met Minnie Mouse (again):






















and had tea with her,

















tried out her bed,

















and inspired Grandma Lee to instruct Papa to buy Pink a Minnie Mouse dress. Did he ever:






















Catch that? That would be a fancy Minnie dress, complete with shoes because every little girl needs pretty shoes to go with her pretty dress (Pink's idea), plus socks because Papa said that she can't wear those shoes without Minnie socks, plus a fancy purse to hold the new princess jewels she talked Papa into buying. What can I say? The girl's good, and the man's a sap for a little girl who wants to be pretty.

Two days later, she was back in her dress and shoes, picking flowers in the yard (where did this child come from?)

"Do you see my dress? It's a MINNIE dress!"






















Didn't quite see the shoes? They really are over-the-top: