Life is still a bit crazy here, even with the kids back to school and the holidays behind us. Playing catch up after the holidays is proving to be as busy as preparing for the holidays themselves. But I do have high hopes of getting life under control by Friday. (How's that for a firm deadline?)
Until then, I thought I'd give you a few little snippets of my life this past week.
Pumpkin turned 10 on Monday. It really is unbelievable to me that a full decade has past since my first baby was born, and he still is just that, my baby. He of course hates for me to refer to him as such, but I correct myself and say he's my oldest baby and that seems to appease him. He was quite pleased with himself Monday night, having entered the double-digits and all, and went to bed with a smile on his face after a great day. About ten minutes after he was all tucked in, he came into my bedroom where I was doing a bit of organizing and handed me both his ipod and his Nintendo DS and said "Here mummy, take these from me, I don't want to be tempted." Meaning he didn't want to be tempted to play them when he was supposed to be sleeping. This having a ten year old may not be so bad after all. We'll see how long it lasts!
Petunia is very much a girly girl. She loves all things pretty and stylish and she really loves dolls. Specifically, American Girl dolls. She loves the books and the outfits, primping their hair, accessorizing - everything about them. Lucky for her, she has two aunties who are more than willing to indulge this love affair with all things American Girl. A day or two after Christmas, Petunia was playing with her newest American Girl doll and all of her accompanying accessories when I sat down next to her to take a peek at the new stuff. As I was fussing with the new doll, Petunia's face changed. She didn't quite look sad, but I couldn't identify the expression so I asked her what was up. At first she resisted answering, but then she said that she felt a little guilty for having so many American Girl dolls when some children don't have any. This, of course, prompted a discussion about how she is definitely very lucky for all the things that she has, but she doesn't need to feel guilty that the people who love her take great joy in buying her presents sometimes and as long as she doesn't expect or demand things, she has nothing to feel badly about. She was very happy to hear that she could play guilt-free, but she still had that look. I wondered if she would like to buy an American Girl doll for a little girl that was not lucky enough to afford one and her face immediately brightened. So, the plan is that she has 10 months to save $100 (not the exact amount, but I wanted her to be able to do the math on her own) and by November 1st she will have enough to buy a doll for a girl in need. We now have a decorated jar on our kitchen counter that already contains about $30. Seems that my girl is not only a saver, but also quite the fundraiser as well. We have told her that most of the money needs to be saved by her, but if family members want to make small donations, that is fine too. Fueled by this early success, she has now set her sights on buying dolls for two little girls!
As you may have guessed, the final snippet is about my little Peanut. A story that perfectly illustrates the personality of this spirited and silly little girl.
After days of dragging on the inevitable de-Christmasing of the house, I finally finished packing everything up yesterday and was ready to put the big rubbermaid containers into storage. I'm sorry, did I say big containers? Because what I really meant was huge, ginormous, red and green containers filled to the brim with surprisingly heavy decorations. Add to the equation that I am only five feet tall and this is about to turn into an I Love Lucy episode. Lucky for Peanut, she was here to witness all of the fun. I dragged the first container over to the stairs with a plan to gently guide it down one stair at a time. Of course, with carpeted stairs, molded plastic and gravity, the physics of the situation were not in my favor and the container zoomed down the stairs dragging me along as I tried to avoid a crash landing and broken ornaments. Peanut shrieked with delight over the ride I had just taken and stood by waiting for the next show. Determined to finally be rid of these boxes (read: I refused to wait for my husband to get home to do this for me), I went back upstairs and started rolling the next box toward the stairs. Thrilled to see that I was going to provide an encore performance, Peanut began to chant: "Go Mama Go! Go Mama Go!" and continued her chant until the box was somewhat safely down the stairs and I came back up giggling and hugging her for cheering me on. Who knew motherhood came with it's own cheering section?