Archives for posts with tag: NaBloPoMo

When she wears her cheery red robe (see previous post), I feel like she’s auditioning for a Christmas pageant. All she needs is a shepherd’s crook or a small sheep, and she’d be a shoe-in.

Unfortunately, her face is trying to match her robe. When we were in Idaho, I thought it was as dry as it could be; humidity wasn’t high on the panhandle’s list of priorities. It seems that we’ve found somewhere just as drying (it rains a lot more, so I know humidity exists – it’s not the tooth fairy!). Her cheeks have thick vertical stripes of dry skin. With the naps she has skipped in the past week plus (this started last Wednesday, and today is Thursday) and the path her more frequent tears take, it also seems that her skin is a mirror of her sleep state. Tonight, even her eyelids were rosy, making the stripes longer, the look sadder. You know this look: it adorns the faces of college students at the end of exam week or a driver at the end of a too-long road trip. She’s exhausted, but again today, she wouldn’t nap. How long can this last?

I guess her face is trying to prepare for the audition, too. I just hope she’ll nap once try-outs are over.

Late afternoon on a no-nap day. Night time sleep: much better – only the one waking to potty, then sleeping until morning. Afternoons: hard. Very hard.

She borrowed – make that commandeered – her daddy’s iPad and had the companionship of her Pepper cat. What more could a girl want on an afternoon like that?

We’re at ZeeZee and Pop’s house for Thanksgiving. By 3:30 today, after no nap, we were shocked at how early in the day it still was. Life without her going down for a nap can be exasperating and exhausting.

Then we heard a sad story about a family ZeeZee and Pop know from church, about the woman suffering through the loss of her grown son. Unaware of the story, ML looked up gleefully from her Play Doh, her face radiating all the love, happiness, and trust a two-and-a-half year old feels when surrounded by some of the people she loves most in the world. If only she could always feel like this about us, and we about her.

“It’s OK, Mommy. It’s no big deal,” ML will admonish us. And she’s right – a day without a nap, some spilled water (or milk, or salad dressing, or Thai coconut soup), a broken plate – these things really aren’t a big deal, and it’s good to be reminded of that, even if it takes my two-and-a-half year old to do the reminding.

I just hope that when we fast-forward through life (and these days, there seems to be no slow motion option), we all remember that we make each other happy, that the little things we get hung up on really matter less than we think, that families aren’t perfect but our love for each other is.


My daughter, my husband, and waking up in the morning with both of them. Baby Baby growing inside me. Watching ML put on records and either listen and read along, if it’s something like Dumbo, or sing and dance along, if it’s Yankee Doodle or I’m a Little Teapot. Reading to her at various times of the day – small books with simple stories, nursery rhymes she knows better than I do, big books like Moomin, during which she’s beginning to ask so many questions that the story is sometimes buried beneath the mountain of where’s and who’s. Watching her look at a book by herself – the intensity of her looking, as if the words and pictures could tell the stories to her without an intermediary. How friendly she is to people and animals alike. My family, my dear and wonderful family. My friends spread across the globe. Moms’ group, which helps to save my sanity. Reading. Listening to her retell stories or sing or make up songs. Watching her dance when there is music, no matter where we are. The time after ML has gone to sleep, when I’m overwhelmed by the sweetness of my sleeping child and when Matthew and I can have a linear conversation or just flop on the couch.

Mommy and Daddy, ┬áMaria and Pepper. Nene and Poppa, ZeeZee and Pop. Aunties and uncles. Fruit snacks and cheeseburgers. Playing in the water, including the ocean, the pool, the tub, the shower, or puddles, big and small. My record player. Reading books. Being read to. Being held. Animals. Watching WordWorld or Pinky Dinky Doo or another show. Playing with Daddy’s iPad. Sweeping. Playing with Play Doh. Moms’ group, which is when I get to see my friends. My friends. Playing outside. Itsy Bitsy Yoga. WND. Dancing. When Daddy comes home from work and hugs me. Having Mommy and Daddy in bed with me in case I get sad or just need a snuggle or a song at night.

And still, and still, Mama’s mole.

Today is the first day of week 21 of my pregnancy – we are into the second half! This does, of course, assume that Baby Baby does not make a late appearance, but we can’t know that yet. So, for now, as far as we know, we are halfway there.

And again today, at moms’ group (which at one point was really just “mom” as many moms were, presumably, off for Thanksgiving travels already), I asked ML if Baby Baby was going to be a boy or a girl. “A girl,” she said, as decisively as before. Maybe this is because it’s easiest to imagine someone like yourself – as a mother, it’s easiest to know more about girls than boys, so having a girl as my first was, in some ways, easy. For ML, imagining a sister must be simpler, too. But she has plenty of boy friends, and she talks about them, so she knows and likes boys. Maybe it’s that she has an inside line, some small-child connection between herself and the small one living inside me, and she knows Baby Baby better than I do.

Either way, we only need to wait another four and a half months to find out.

Reading more of me lately? Yup, I thought so. I’m participating in NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month), so it’s my goal to post something every day. That’s right: prepare to read more than you thought you’d have to.

Today, I have three small stories to share. Together, they add up to a slightly larger look at our day than usual.

1. We were trying to round her up for supper. Instead, she took a book to the potty (her Boon potty bench – love it!), and started “reading” to herself. This time, she sang “Polly Wolly Doodle.” As she sat on the toilet. I couldn’t love her more.

This was a different instance (Richard Scarry instead), but her intensity with books – and love for reading while on the potty – are clearly represented.

2. During supper, which was homemade hot and sour soup, she played with her food more than she ate it. Bamboo shoots littered her placemat. She stood to look at herself in the mirror instead of eating. When we asked her to take another bite, she said, “I hate it!”

We looked at each other in shock. Had we said this around her? We try to be careful…so we asked. “Who said that?” And she told us that a boy (whom she named) said it at (insert girl’s name)’s Mommy’s house. That’s right. We were at a Halloween party nearly two weeks ago, and that’s where she heard the word “hate.” She’s mulled it over and finally decided to try out the word, like a new pair of shoes. I hope she decides that this one pinches her toes and that it should be returned.

3. We’re reading Tales from Moominvalley by Tove Jansson at the moment – charming but not my favorite of the Moomin lot so far (some stories are more subtle and adult, I think). We’re reading the Puffin version of this (although all the rest are Four Square), and my daughter, who loves the Moomin pictures, also loves to look at the images of puffins in the book. Then she recites one of Jack Prelutsky’s poems taken from Ride a Purple Pelican, but she always substitutes “puffin” for “parrot”:

Parrot with a pomegranate,
pigeon with a peach…

My favorite part, though, is when she gets to (and correctly recites) the line “they danced a polonaise.” She says it “powonaise,” and surely, the line has never sounded sweeter coming from the mouth of another reader.

She sings, she recites, she tries out new words – and this is only a slice of life taken from suppertime on.