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...

Seems like it has been a long time since last I posted – so much has happened. Our little Pumpkin has had her first hair cut, climbed in her first tree house, played in her first rain storm (looking very Zen, I might add), worn her first pony tail, been to the beach, played in the sand, and attended Uncle Poly and Aunt Corey’s wedding. Sheesh, now I know what they mean by a picture is worth a thousand words – I refer you to the attached photos for all of that. And speaking of a thousand words, Pumpkin’s vocabulary is quickly approaching that mark. Every day she amazes me by clearly articulating some need or desire. Last night she pointed out “dada’s choo choo” in the driveway (read: daddy’s truck). I’m quickly realizing that perhaps more important than her talking is me actually listening. Anyone who knows me realizes how difficult that sometimes is for me. It slapped me in the face just last week while we were in Florida and as I was carrying her down the steps of the beach ho...

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a very scheduled person. Spontaneous is just not something I’ve ever been mistaken for. In addition to being scheduled, for the vast majority of my life, I’ve also been very punctual. Let me take that back. I’m not punctual, I’m habitually early. I can’t stand tardiness. I take it as a personal assault if someone is late for something I plan (other than those things you are SUPPOSED to be “fashionably” late for, of course). My staff loves this about me. My family, maybe not as much, but they adapt. All of them except for Pumpkin. Since Pumpkin’s arrival I’ve had more and more difficulty being on time, much less early. Yet, however hard Pumpkin has railed against my promptness, I have subconsciously battled back to ensure that even if I can’t be on time to any social functions ever again, I am always on time to work. Let me correct myself again, that I am always EARLY to work. This feat is especially difficult considering Pumpkin lov...

It was hard to come to work this morning. Not just because I had a case of the Mondays. Not just because it’s absolutely gorgeous outside and I would rather be anywhere than in an office. And not because I have a to-do list that is a million items long and I only seem to be adding to it and not taking away. The real reason it was so extremely, painfully hard to come to work is that we had such a wonderful weekend with our little Pumpkin. Enough cannot be said about the amazing weather we had this weekend. It was beautiful. It was cool in the morning, which called for staying in our PJs a little longer than usual and having Pop cook us a big breakfast. But then the glorious sun broke free and it warmed up to a perfect 80 degrees. Perfect temp. We stayed outside for most of the day Saturday and there is simply no denying my girl’s absolute LOVE for the outdoors. We played on the swing, the slide, dragged the wagon, pushed the wagon, rode the wagon, filled the wagon with scaveng...

While we are on the subject of being spoiled and somewhere in that same universe, is the idea of excess. Last night, I got a little confirmation that we may be headed down that road. Or, at a philosophical minimum, I'm convinced that my child loves cake. I don't typically quote 50-Cent in a blog, but there simply were not more appropriate words to call this story. Yesterday was Pop's birthday and we had lots of fun in store for him, including a trip to the new waterfront restaurant an hour away and a delicious homemade (not in my home) red velvet cake (which, I learned last night over cake, he likes but is not his favorite despite my convincing myself it was). In any event, all of these festivities on a Thursday and a monthly dog grooming appointment had me home a little early with my arms full. Prioritizing those things which could and could not stay in the car by themselves, I quickly deposited Pumpkin at my side in the front yard, one eye on her; let the dog out to...