I Was Going to Repaint That Anyway

Well, a first for us today. Amidst a busy morning, Ford told me he needed to tell me something but did not want to say whatever it was he had to say in front of Miss Amelia. After church and lunch and nap...he finally remembered to tell me as we finished our dinner dishes.

"Did you see Amelia's dresser?"

"No, what about it?"

"She wrote all over it. I didn't see it happen and I'm not sure when she did it but I thought we should talk about it first before confronting her."

A bit shocked but thinking 'how bad could it be?' I put down my dishes and walk into the bedroom. Ford and Amelia followed.

No, it's wasn't just a few scribbles. She wrote on every drawer.

With a pen.

Calmly, I said. "Amelia, could you come here for a minute?"

She walked right over. I said, "what's on your dresser?"

She looked on top of it and saw a card from her Great Grandma and said, "a card."

Obviously oblivious.

"No, what's this on the drawers?"

"I wrote on my dresser," she said happily.

I reply calmly, "Yes, I see that. I need to tell you that it's not okay to write on the furniture. We only write on paper. Do you understand what Mommy is telling you?"

"Well, I was just writing my name."

(Ford and I both had to hold back smiles...already making a case for herself).

Again I repeat, "It's never okay to write on any furniture. We only write on paper."

She pipes in, "not couches, not dressers..." (Was she thinking of moving onto the couch next)?

"Right, did you use a pencil or a pen?"

"I used a pen, the white one."

Can you tell me why you did that?

"I was just writing my name." She scrunches up her nose. "But it's okay...but...I'm sorry, Mom."

"I accept your apology, Amelia. Now you are going to help mommy try to wash it off."

Ford got some rags and she willingly ran to the bathroom, to get hers wet and get some soap.

She rubbed and rubbed to no avail. "It's not coming, off," she huffed. "I just have to scrub harder." Oh brother, somehow I'm feeling kind of bad for her at this point.

We all scrubbed but alas, the pen remains.

I had a 'what was she thinking' kind of moment on this one. It clearly was not a malicious act. Just looked like fun...to write your name...in pen...on your dresser drawers...all of them. Because maybe she just couldn't find any paper and felt like being creative, or maybe did she just wanted to see what would happen, how we would react, or maybe that's not it at all...maybe writing your "name" on your dresser in pen is just a good time.

I'm pretty sure I'll never know.

Brett's Battle

I added a new blog to the list of "other blogs you may like" on the left side of the screen. Brett's Battle. Aunt Amy Jo's husband, Brett, or brother as I call him, is undergoing radiation and chemotherapy in preparation for a bone marrow transplant in 3 days. He recently fought his 3rd battle with cancer (first battle he fought as a child with leukemia) and the next step is the transplant.

Pray for healing, strength, courage and hope for he and Amy.

To keep updated on his progress you can read the blog Amy started.

More prayers, more miracles...because they happen.

p.s. to hear the music, you now have to push the play button in the playlist box to the left.

Duck, duck, goose...

Let it slide...

Amelia loves the park, always has. She does not, however, care for the slide. She used to at least try the slides, and even with some enthusiasm. But for the past year or so there has been zero slide activity, flat out refusal. Could have something to do with another toddler giving her some "assistance" early on in her park visiting career, or maybe it was a slide that was a bit too fast and scary. Either way, no slides.

Until now.

Since the weather broke, we've been visiting the local parks quite frequently after a long winter hiatus. I thought maybe now that she's a little bigger, older, and wiser, she perhaps would have forgotten about her fear. Nope. She didn't forget. But at least now she is able to verbalize her fear...turns out it's just "too scary." No problem. I didn't push it.

A few days ago, Amelia and I ventured out after dropping Ford off at school. I gave her a choice...we could either visit the horse barn (at MSU) or we could go to the park. She chose horse barn. As we drove along, she announced that she would rather go to the park. Okay. A few quiet minutes passed and I watched her from the rear-view mirror as she stared out of her window. Out of the blue, with no mention of what we might do at the park from me, she announced calmly and confidently, "I am going to go on the slides today."

I smiled..."You ARE??" She smiled back kicking her feet up and down pridefully, "Yup!"

We got to the park and we headed straight for the little slide. Up the steps and right down, without hesitation, I was at the bottom to catch her of course. I clapped and cheered, told her I was so proud of her. She beamed. "I'm going to do it again! And I'm going to tell Dad when he gets home. But step back, Mom, I don't want you to catch me."

Well, okay. I stepped back, as she requested. She flew down the shiny metal slide, but this time a little quicker and she landed in the wood chips, on her butt and then fell back a little, hitting her head on the edge of the slide. She held it in for a minute but the waterworks started. Bummer. This could be the end of it for another long while...no more slides. But I was wrong. She wiped her tears and with a little encouragement, got back up there and went down again and again.

I was so proud of her. It may seem like a small thing, going down a slide, but to her it was a pretty huge fear. I was mostly proud that she came to the decision all on her own. That she carefully and thoughtfully decided, before even reaching the park, that that sunny warm day would be the day.

It was a first for me..watching her tackle an obstacle like that and it warmed my heart in a new way. I love when that happens. Way to go, Amelia!

Thank goodness.

Yesterday, Amelia, mid-play, alerted me that she had to use the potty. Since we were at Grandma and Grandpa Turrell's house, I knew she couldn't climb up on the big potty by herself so I followed her in there.

She said to me, "No, go out there, Mom. I can do it myself."

Me: "Okay, but I have to help you get up onto that big potty since there's no stool here."

Amelia" "But I need privacy."

Me: "Okay, I'll give you your privacy after I help you up."

Satisfied, she let me help her. When she was done, I helped her finish and tried to lift her off the potty...

Amelia: "No, I can do it myself, Mom."

Me: "I'll just help you get down."

Next I tried to help Amelia pull up her underpants but she stopped me again...

Amelia: "I-I-I can do it!"

Me: "Oh, I know you can, I'm sorry, go ahead. "

Then she stops, drops her shoulders and and says, "I need to get back on the potty."

I lift her up and wait.

About 20 seconds go by and though she still hasn't gone she says she's done, gets down (I help a little), pulls up her own underpants and her pants and reminds me... "See, I can do it by myself."

Realizing she had to have a "re-do" so she could do it all herself from start to finish, I smile and say...

"Oh, I see, you didn't really have to go potty again, you just wanted to do it by yourself."

She smiles and says reassuringly..."Yea. But you're still my mom."

Oh good. :)

Bliss

Memory not to forget:

Tonight, after our bed-time routine of books, prayers and snuggles, I tucked in an especially tuckered two year old (who refused her nap today), cozy in her green flowered footy-pajamas and snuggling her "pink" mommy shirt. I kissed her soft cheek, whispered "goodnight, I love you." Her eyes...half closed and begging for sleep, but Amelia, not wanting me to leave managed to whisper back..."Mama, sing me a song..."

And so I did.

She sleeps.

Barbie

So Amelia loves to play with my Barbies. I still have them. Two of them. They can still rock the awesome 70's Barbie clothes (that yes, I still have) including an orange satin disco one piece complete with gold braided belt and golden collar. Amelia has named them "Barba" and "Barbie." They are still going strong despite kitten chewed hands, "bang trims" and generally being a little worn from all the years of "playing Barbies."

In addition to our two 30 something year old Barbies we have welcomed newcomer "Polly." A dollar store beauty that Amelia won at our family "Camporama" last summer.

One morning last week, Amelia and I "played Barbies" and chit-chatted as we dressed them to the hilt. Once they were all dressed and ready to go Amelia said in her best Barbie voice... "Hey! Where do you guys want to go?"

Me in my "Polly" voice, I responded: "I don't care, where do you want to go?"

Amelia, bounced her Barbie along her bed in small hops: "Let's go to a dance party!"

At this point I am not looking directly at Amelia and her Barbie but next I hear her say...and still in Barbie character...

"Oh! But my leg fell off!"

...then happily and without missing a beat she continues...

"That's okay, I'll just take it with me!"

That's my girl. Party on.