Sugar and Spice

We are loving the cold air and the holiday cheer and are looking so forward to Pumpkin’s second Christmas (the first one where she may have some teeny tiny idea of what is going on, or at least how to rip open gifts). It truly is the most wonderful time of the year. We just spent a great week with our Florida family, complete with Ganny-spoiling, Thanksgiving gluttony, and early Christmas presents. Unfortunately, coming back to the real world was, well…real. It started with my losing my driver’s license somewhere between Ganny’s house and the airport. It was one of those “bright ideas” to save time at the security line I would put my license in my back pocket so I could whip it out at a moment’s notice. Well, having put that plan into action, I then proceeded to fold myself up onto Pumpkin’s new tricycle and “ride” down Ganny’s cul-de-sac (much to Pumpkin’s sheer delight). Unfortunately, all of the yoga-like positions I had to get into apparently pushed my license out of my pock

Pumpkin’s latest obsession is personal hygiene. I thought children typically hated to leave playtime to tend to those pesky necessities, but this child of mine literally begs to take showers and brush her teeth. Not only that, but one would suspect torture to overhear her being dragged out of the shower to dry off. In fact, a few nights ago after several long minutes of tooth-brushing, I pried the brush from her tiny Vulcan grip only to have her fall to her knees screaming “TEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETH.” I was just taking her toothbrush, not ripping her teeth out of her gums, but it was a horrifying enough scream to cause Hubby to come and check on us. Similar bellowing cries are evoked every night when I make her get out of the “showw-showw.” Of course, it’s hard to discipline or discourage a child who WANTS to brush her teeth and who WANTS to take a shower. On the other hand, I can’t have her wrinkle into a prune and as much as I’d love to, I can’t just stand in the bathroom while she b

I bet you’re thinking the title of this blog post refers to Pumpkin, but with all humility I must admit that this one is about yours truly. Seems that I am irresistible. Of course, I’ve always known this, but now I have a little 25-pound, 18-month old Pumpkin to confirm it. It started last week out of nowhere. It was like any other Monday. We rise, we shine, we give God the glory, glory and then we’re off to school. After those first few weeks, we hadn’t shed a tear. Then, Monday morning, I put her little feet on the ground and her face screws up into the tightest little ball of sadness you have ever seen. The hysterics escalated from what we dealt with before and included her actually trying to pry the door open as I was pulling it shut and sticking her red, teary face out of it to scream at me as I left the building. Guilt, much? So this went on the entire week last week. Her little classmates got in on the comforting action, trying to hug her and give her open-mouth slobber