I’m back. Sort of.

Oh, blog. How I have neglected you.

Hmm, plenty to talk about, but nothing I can actually… talk… about…

So, for now, here are some random thoughts:

I need to buy a cherry pitter. Each day, usually after our walk, Thumbelina and I sit down to a bowl of fresh bing cherries. I pop one in my mouth, keep half, get rid of the seed and Thumbelina slurps down what’s left. By the end of our ritual, we’re both covered in cherry juice. I tend to put both of us in the shower after that, though one time I waited and it appeared as if I’d been experimenting with gory sacrifice… creepy, I know.

Thumbelina’s speech and language is improving. She came into the kitchen today, opened the refrigerator door and said, “I. want. eggs.” !!!!!! Oh, the celebrating. Swirling, twirling, cheering, clapping. The rest of the night was plenty of, “I. want… cake?” Yeah, nice try. She finally got tired, though, and started saying things like, “I. egg. chair. No, no no no!!!! I. want. (pause)… nurse?” Ha, so cute. She was trying to move the chair away from the counter and explain to me her eggs were ready, but being that I’m a notoriously late dinner-maker, the poor thing was practically falling asleep already.

We went and had our allergy tests taken this week, so we’re awaiting the results. Up until the last week or two, our vegan resolve was strong… and then Father’s Day hit, and a bakery cupcake (or two) ruined everything. Since then, it’s been a mess of sugar and dairy beckoning to me daily… but, that stops tomorrow. I was contemplating the idea of waiting to jump back on the health wagon for after July 4th, but knowing the free-for-all that might occur between now and then, I’ll not do that to myself.

My hair is getting long. I’m fighting this weird urge to get a body wave for my hair. Isn’t that the most bizarre desire, ever? Topher mentioned that Miss Anti-Chemical suddenly wanting to purposely put poison on top of her head seemed a little… out of character? Maybe so. But I don’t really want to cut my hair, at least not more than a trim - and having it be long, straight and heavy during the summer is so depressing. I end up just wearing it back from my face, just to keep it out of my eyes, and I look tired and frazzled. Plus I have some natural wave to it, which becomes over-abundant during the humid months, but just enough to look unkempt instead of prettily tousled. “Doing” my hair takes far too much time, since attempting to smooth it and then curling the ends after blow-drying just becomes tedious after awhile. Soooo, I’m thinking of getting it waved and seeing if that adds some easy options and variety. We’ll see. I need a few more ounces of bravery, first.

Since I’ve joined Costco, I’ve started reading… romance novels. Of the Nora Roberts variety. Why? Because they’re cheap! And who can resist a good love story with murder, intrigue and pahhhhhhhhhssion. Topher and I will be in the middle of a conversation and he’ll suddenly quote a novel and pretend he’s not. “You take me higher than I’ve ever been before. I… I… THIRST for you.” He also steals them and begins reading them out loud, which for some reason embarrasses me, because I feel like I should be reading something… literary. Worthwhile. So I end up chasing him around the house, attempting to get my book back, and Thumbelina believes this to be the best game ever. So when Topher is at work, she’ll steal my book, snack, hairclip or any number of things and run shrieking through the house, stopping every few moments to see if I’m hot in pursuit.

She has a tickling addiction. She calls tickling, “Kay-kays.” Every once in awhile, she’ll wake up from a deep sleep, take my hand and ask for more kay-kays. Her favorite part isn’t the actual tickling, but the anticipation. All I have to do is make my fingers start walking, and she’s in hysterics immediately, stumbling away from me, screaming, “Nooooo!” and giggling that lovely toddler laugh.

Etsy

So, I think we can all agree that the crafting gene missed me by a mile. My attempts at crafting are well-documented and many an anonymous commenter has been deleted when musing about my efforts! (Though they did make me laugh with some of THEIR creativity.) Anyway - one rainy day, sitting in my work room, surrounded by all the materials of craft projects gone by - I realized that with all the forlorn fabric swatches and embroidery thread and craft glue and scrapbooking materials galore, I might be able to come up with a few wooden miniature dolls for Thumbelina. I painted her cousin a small dollhouse around Christmas time, and Thumbelina was so possessive of it that I ultimately made one for her, too. But, she needed a few dolls to play with inside of it. So, I set to work and came up with something like this…

I’ve made several variations of these little wooden girls, but this particular type is Thumbelina’s most favorite and what I’ve decided to try selling (!) at Etsy. (I know, I laughed at myself too when I even considered such a bizarre notion - me, selling handmade items! Ha!) But.. this idea came about when brainstorming about my $1000 challenge.

What is my $1000 challenge? Basically I found myself lusting after a particularly fantastic lens for my Nikon camera and the only way I could even CONSIDER buying such an expensive present for myself would be to earn the money. And no, it doesn’t actually cost a thousand dollars, but it’s such a nice, round number that I’m going with it. But once I started thinking about spending money on something so frivolous, other (more practical) things came to mind. Because yes, there are far more necessary things to consider spending money on. Like, this house. And the green living room that haunts me. Or Thumbelina’s speech therapy. Or a trip for our fifth year anniversary…. oh wait, that isn’t practical. But alas, the tornado has set us back quite a bit (but not in any suffering sort of way) and I’ve found myself wondering what small ways I can contribute to our household income. Can I earn a thousand dollars - and if I can, what is stopping me from earning more? We are so blessed with Topher’s job, and yet I think if there is a way I can help our family by doing something I love to do - and do anyway, regardless - then, yay! And if no one buys my little dolls… well, I’ll survive. Plus, Thumbelina will have a new army of her beloved girls.

Now, I have this issue with perfectionism that I hide really well most of the time, but when it comes to creating… I struggle. Because I want it to be perfect. Everything from the dolls, the photos, the Etsy site, etc. But perfection eludes me and always will, so these last few days of plotting and planning and executing this little project have been a good lesson in humility. The picture icons, for instance, drove me craaazy… I didn’t know they crop photos from standard size to square. But, I rolled with it and didn’t rush out and take more pictures… I just told myself that next time, if there is a next time, I’ll take that into consideration when I shoot other items. When I took the photos, I tried timing it at just before sunset - which was great - for, um, the first shot. And then the rest get darker, which irritated me, but… again, I rolled with it. I’m doing this because I LIKE it and not because I want to torture myself with an abstract idea of perfection, right? Um, sure. And as for the dolls… well, I adored making them, and no, they aren’t perfect, but they are handmade with much love.

So, I’m unveiling my Etsy site! With the caveat that it is most definitely still under construction, and only five items are listed… with many more to come. Enjoy looking! Here is a peek:

The banner, which I’ll probably change, because I realize it’s a little hard to read - but, I was so excited (after multiple trial and error attempts) when I learned how to actually MAKE a banner that I was merely content to finally have something to display! (It’s definitely easier to look at full-size, but this will do.)

More wooden girls…

(Yes, this next one was the “just before sunset” shot.)

I should say that I have other ideas besides just listing my little dolls, but… baby steps!

And now, I am off to bed.

My lovebuckets

Well, after a week of pitiful popsicle peddling…

Thumbelina managed to mostly kick her fiesty cold to the curb. Yay!

We spent Saturday outside, enjoying the Springtime…

I love how she takes his face in her hand when she’s about to go in for the kiss.

Aren’t they cute?

Aside from our water adventures, Thumbelina and Topher decided to cut out the alphabet this weekend and arrange them in our upstairs hallway. Pretty exciting. If you’re two, that is, or a daddy who loves delighting his letter-loving daughter.

(I love their cute little bums. Shhh. Don’t tell Topher I said that.)

And here is Thumbelina, crackin’ the whip. “More letters, Daddy!” (Except it comes out as “Mo ledduhs, Dah-ee!”)

She’s so cute. So is he. Ahh. I heart them.

oh my little one…

Thumbelina is in the habit of dressing herself as of late, and favoring the layered look - despite the heat. Notice this ensemble which brings to mind a certain dessert of the rainbow sherbet variety…

She’s a very modest young lady and therefore wearing a pair of coordinating orange shorts beneath the dress. The pink undershirt is a size 12 months and one she plucked from a giveaway pile. So resourceful!

She’s still jumping. A lot.

And still a quiet contemplative sometimes, fascinated by the big kids.

I always wonder what she’s thinking.

I see Thumbelina growing up and changing quite a bit these days. Her language is developing, and so is her sense of self. We’ve had a symbiotic relationship for so long. It is bittersweet to observe her assertive personality unfold, with distinct preferences that aren’t dependent upon my own, nor selected with my guidance. I feel joyful that she’s recognizing herself as an authentic being, capable of choosing her individual path, day by day - but a little sad that her babyhood continues to shorten as time passes. Gratitude is inspired by moments such as this:

A reminder that she’s still my little one. Attached as ever to her dearest comfort.

Lately, though, I’ve noticed that all of this bravery invested in “testing the waters of childhood” has brought about more frequent episodes of “Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

(Yes, I have a slide in my living room.)

This particular picture isn’t actually what I would consider a real cry - she’s trying, though, to sum up a few tears. She’s sad that I said we couldn’t go outside naked. Yes, I explained that I’m okay with HER strutting around the deck wearing nothing but her indispensable fuschia shoes - but she was distraught that Mama wouldn’t take her clothes off, too, and join in the outdoor nude frolicking. The tragedy. (When I used to imagine parenting, I had no idea that validating my child would involve repeating things like, “You want Mama to be naked. You want us to play naked outside. You want us to take off our clothes and dance outside to the Barney soundtrack.”)

Usually, on days with little sleep - the drama doesn’t stop, but persists. I won’t bore anyone with reliving the relentless and creative demands of a sleepy, nap-striking and pouty two-year-old, but…

On days such as this, it is a saving grace that Daddy will at some point in time walk through the door.

And they will play. And she will smile again.

And he will smile goofy, cheesy grins at me until I finally crack one back.

And they will talk, and I will listen, and my heart will soften. She is still finding her way.

an unwelcome overnight guest

Gosh, what a crazy week. We saw many of our favorite little friends, which (understandably) means we now have a germy, coughy-cold underway. However, a small illness quickly became the least of our concerns…

A tornado warning was in effect for most of yesterday evening, but didn’t turn into a watch for quite some time. The sirens began going off while I was doing the grocery shopping. A store manager came onto the PA system and advised everyone to make their way to the back of the store and take cover in the coolers (haha). Yeah, no thanks. I paid for my items and then ran out in the torrential rain, looking every which way (as if I could spot a funnel cloud in the distance and avoid it successfully). The sirens continued during my drive home and eventually stopped once I got inside and turned on the news. It seemed that the bulk of concern was significantly south of us, so I didn’t worry too much about the rest of our night. We ate a peaceful dinner together.

I went to bed fairly late, around 1am, and climbed under the covers to cuddle Thumbelina. About an hour later, I awoke to both of us being tossed into the air and landing haphazardly on the bed. The entire house shook desperately, and I cried out for Topher - who was standing beside the window, trying to watch the storm and see if a tornado was in fact heading our way. I remember running downstairs to the basement, with Thumbelina in my arms, and feeling like the storm was furiously chasing us.  I set Thumbelina down on the floor and then dashed back upstairs with Topher to grab important items. (Medicine, wallets, keys, cell phones and a file box of important documents.) We could hear parts of our roof audibly ripping - I worried the top of our home would snap off and spin away into the night.

So, we prayed. Topher rummaged around and found a lantern of sorts to help us see. We used our cell phones as flashlights to find our way in the dark, since we felt totally unprepared for the situation and the power was out. Oddly, Thumbelina slept through the entire drama and only seemed upset that we couldn’t nurse to her little heart’s content (until I settled us into a corner of the basement). Brr. It was cold! And really confusing, because we couldn’t decide what might happen next and if we should stay awake or not. We eventually tried to sleep when the sounds died down, but the stillness was also eerily frightening. I didn’t want to tell Topher that sometimes funnel clouds come in groups - he grew up in Philly and doesn’t know these things! I did not enjoy wondering what was happening outside without any interpretation from a weatherman or two.

We woke up to roof damage and swingsets piled in our backyard. Our next door neighbor’s chimney is dangling, and several people on our street have their air conditioning units twisted upside down. We feel very blessed that the damage was so minimal in comparison to what could have happened, because merely three blocks over is where the worst damage occurred - homes are literally leveled. Piles of wood.

Topher’s friend came over to help him check out the roof damage, since our insurance company is swamped and not very helpful (as of yet) in offering guidance about what we should do. However, I was under the impression that Topher’s friend - the former professional roofer - would be climbing up on top of the house, NOT Topher. So I flipped out slightly upon realizing that my dear husband planned on climbing a ladder and walking around our potentially unstable roof in the midst of gusty winds. Thankfully, he is fine. I was not happy about his decision to go up there, roof damage or not.

Tomorrow I am putting together an emergency kit. I don’t want to ever feel panicked again about realizing the few simple items we need to be comfortable and safe are scattered around the house. Not fun!

So, it took a couple of years, but…

She finally called me Mommy!!!!!

Topher started referring to me as Mommy instead of Mama, because Thumbelina says “maff” for “off,” and “mah” for “mouth,” so we were beginning to wonder if Mama just didn’t make sense to her. But hearing me referred to as Mommy seemed to do the trick right away. It comes out as “MeeMee.” So cute. And she still announces when she’s happy, so I’m glad she hasn’t lost her use of that word. It’s the best thing ever to have her grab my hand and say, “Happy, MeeMee!” And I say, “Are you happy?” And she says, “Fee (what she calls herself) happy!”

This weekend we spent de-cluttering and rearranging. We moved the train table out of the rec room, so now we have more space for Thumbelina’s pretend play stuff and also my treadmill and trampoline. The train table (which we got crazy cheap from Charlene, a parenting group friend, for only $20) is not something I can bear to part with for the time being, but it wasn’t being used in any purposeful way so now it’s going to stay in the garage for a little while. The rec room seems so much bigger without the table taking up so much space. We finished moving Topher’s desk and computer into the living room (since we’re sans furniture, and at this point have a jungle gym hanging out in the middle of it) and turned the third bedroom (formerly the office) into a craft & learning room for Thumbelina. I’m so happy with it! We’ve been dragging this $20 bookshelf from IKEA around the country with us during every move, keeping it in storage and for some reason haven’t ever given it away in all the years we’ve not been using it. But now it’s a great way to keep her activity bins neatly stacked. Lately I’ve been struggling with the poor accessibility to all of the fun stuff we have for Thumbelina to play with, and realizing that some of her things aren’t getting any attention. It seems like such a waste to have toys and activities just sitting around, ignored or lost. She is always moving toys or items from one room to the next, because we haven’t given her a proper sense of where certain things belong. Soooo, now we’ve decided that her kitchen and pretend play items are in the rec room, along with miscellaneous toys. Her bedroom has a bookshelf and baby dolls. The learning room has puzzles, alphabet and numbers activities, art supplies, felt board, small manipulatives for counting & sorting, color & shape activities, matching games, books that are intentionally educational, language activities, instruments and her Calendar & Weather interactive posters. It sounds like a lot, but it really isn’t. (I think I listed all of that out for my own peace of mind.) I can’t stand feeling scattered, and I’ve felt so guilty lately for knowing we have all of these fun things to do together, but half the time I don’t know where anything is - so, hopefully this set up will be great for us. I also bought a clothesline and strung it along the ceiling so we have a specific place to hang up her art projects, most of which have been ending up in the trash lately because she’s always on a creative binge. She fills pages and pages full of scribbles or the most detailed “designs” (when she isn’t asking one of us to draw Barney). I need to start saving a few of the masterpieces and putting them into a scrapbook for safekeeping.

We have more organizing to do tomorrow, but I feel like we’re off to a good start.

Thumbelina has continued her quest for a milkshake, and we’ve spent a lot of time pretending to make one. My smoothies are still a hit, but she doesn’t consider them a shake anymore. She gives me an annoyed look whenever I say, “Let’s go make a shake!” and start getting out frozen fruit. She seems increasingly irritated that we don’t seem to understand what she’s talking about - and I know, you’re probably thinking I’m the meanest mom ever to not go out and buy the poor little sugar addict a real milkshake. The other night, I came home from dinner out with a few mama friends, only to find Thumbelina standing at the top of our stairs and exclaiming, “Shake! Shake! Shake!” over and over again. I asked Topher if he bought her a milkshake while I was gone, and he said “Um…no. Not exactly.” Hmm. Okay. But Thumbelina persisted in talking to me about milkshakes, excitedly mentioning Daddy’s name and pointing to the refrigerator. I eventually opened the door and found a frozen-looking concoction on the top shelf. Topher came in and tried to nonchalantly say, “Oh, yes, we made milkshakes while you were gone. Those are the leftovers.”

Now, the thing about Topher is that he’s only learned how to boil water in the last year. He can therefore make pasta, but he never leaves the stove while it’s cooking, because… well, I’m not sure why. He can brown taco meat and scramble an egg. (We’ve spent nearly five years of marriage practicing these few tricks.) However, none of these facts ran through my mind when he apprehensively mentioned the homemade milkshake in the fridge. I just thought, “I’m glad I bought that ice cream last week. Poor Thumbelina has really been wanting a milkshake.” But, I noticed a horrible grimace when I let her grab the milkshake from me and she took a sip. And then she kind of gagged and half-heartedly said, “Shake.” Hmm. So, I tried it. And nearly threw up!

Topher, watching all of this, completely ignored my reaction and was like, “She LOVED it. We put a few scoops of ice cream, some milk and some syrup together in the blender.”

“Syrup?”

“Yeah, I found a bottle of Aunt Jemima’s syrup in the back of the pantry.”

Gag.

“How come it tastes so salty?”

“Oh, well that’s because I put sea salt in it.”

After talking to him a little bit, I realized the addition of salt came about because he’s watched me make cakes and sweet breads and cookies and they all have salt in it. And those are all really sweet, yummy things. So therefore the salt must somehow interact with the sugar, right? And make it taste good, right…?

happy birthday, again!

So, we went to an indoor inflatable play place yesterday, assuming Thumbelina would love it because jumping is her favorite thing to do as of late. She was quite happy when we arrived, sitting on daddy’s lap in the parking lot to ‘drive.’

But, as soon as we got inside and Topher jumped into the inflatables, she wasn’t quite so enthused.

Yes, those are Topher’s feet. Do you like the “No Diving: Enter Feet First” sign?

After we finally got Topher to, ahem, come back out - we spent most of our time in the small toddler area, which seemed more comfortable for Thumbelina (much to Topher’s disappointment).

Since the play place wasn’t much of a hit, we decided to head out to the toy store and FINALLY pick out her birthday presents. Yay! We got her an indoor/outdoor jungle gym of sorts. She can climb and slide and do all of her monkeying on it, hopefully. We also picked up a wooden letter puzzle, since she’s been interested in the alphabet lately. Not surprisingly, Thumbelina managed to find a Barney and Riff that were on clearance. They aren’t the small, blissfully silent types that she’s been carrying around for months, either. Nope, they sing songs and Riff even has two obnoxious maracas that he shakes around. She also found a Barney coloring book and Mama took pity on her and bought another Barney dvd. Oh joy!

Admittedly, the jungle gym isn’t put together yet, but she’s quite taken with Riff and Bah-ney.

I would post pictures of her Barney cake, but it’s so sad and pathetic that even I, with my no-shame policy regarding craft attempts, can’t bring myself to post pictures. It took me TWO HOURS and Topher continually came in to gently suggest that I just give it up. Maybe because I kept having to scrape the frosting off the cake and re-frost it to have a clean slate. (Thumbelina fell asleep while waiting for her cake, which at first made me feel sorry that I was taking so long and being so frustrated with something so silly - but then I realized she was spared learning a few colorful words I’d prefer she not hear yet. Yay.) And then when I finally managed to trace a great outline of Barney onto the cake, the purple frosting came out as red and his eyes looked deranged. Isn’t that sad? The only triumph during the entire cake debacle was that she at least recognized him as Barney - though with a distinct question in her voice, kind of like when a parent asks their child to “tell me about that drawing, son!” because they don’t want to mistakenly hurt the kid’s feelings. Topher was like, “At least she didn’t think you made her an alien cake, right?” Yes babe, that makes me feel a million times better. Nevermind that Thumbelina thinks she sees Barney on any cereal box.

We did make an emergency run to the grocery store and procured a few pink princess cupcakes. Thumbelina enjoyed the frosting the most, I think.

My one culinary success this birthday happened to be using my trusty blender and re-introducing smoothies. We haven’t had any in awhile, which is a good thing because Thumbelina discovered milkshakes last weekend during the wedding - and has asked for a “shake” every day since. (Poor Topher ran out of ways to amuse her during his many hours of solo parenting between activities.) Fortunately, she was satisfied that a cherry-peach-mango smoothie is a sufficient “shake.”

If there is any mercy in this world, Thumbelina will have a new interest by her next birthday and Barney will be a friend of the past. Then maybe we can actually order a cake, since not one single local bakery still does Barney cakes anymore. (And I can spare my little one the torture of my cake-decorating disability.)

she’s growing up

We survived the wedding weekend. Emily is officially married and cruising up the east coast with Ben, enjoying their honeymoon for the next two weeks. Yay!

We came home on Sunday and crashed for five hours. Slept through the entire afternoon, which also happened to be (shh!) Thumbelina’s birthday. I feel horrible that we barely even celebrated, although Topher can’t quite muster the same amount of parental guilt and keeps shrugging whenever I bring it up, saying, “but she has no concept of what a birthday actually is.” Like that makes it any better! Friday has been officially designated as Birthday Do-Over Day. I’ve been stalking eBay, trying to find a fast-ship Barney cake pan since the original one I bid on and won is “unavailable for shipment.” Grrr. The seller sent me an email saying she “couldn’t find it.” Nice.

I can’t believe my baby is two years old. I feel a little sad about her growing up, but excited about the years ahead. I often think back to my first glimpse of her, just as she was pulled from my incision and held high above my body. The tufts of gleaming ringlets, wet from the amniotic fluid, made me smile and wonder if she might resemble her papa - since his sister has very dark curls. When I eventually saw her face and spoke her name, the peering dark blue eyes turned to me with instant recognition and curiosity. The sense of belonging to one another was immediate and intense. She was so new and yet so familiar.

Topher was immediately mesmerized.

This was our first week home. We bought preemie diapers and they totally engulfed her.

Here we are at about one month old. She was just beginning to sport the old man ‘do - losing her hair on top of the head.

I get sad thinking about how there will never be another Thumbelina. It’s such an obvious statement, but when people talk about baby lust, they usually refer to having a new one. I don’t necessarily feel it for another baby (yet). I feel baby lust for Thumbelina. I wish sometimes that we could go back in time and savor those new moments, some of which were stolen from us with the drama of our birth and recovery experience. I want to go back in time and re-experience all the quirks which make her so unique. I may not have another baby who squishes her lips together in puckered concentration, or insists on being carried like Super-Girl, suspended precariously over my shoulder to maximize her ability to see the world around her. I wonder if my next baby will love nursing as much as Thumbelina and her milk addiction. Even now, as I enjoy her toddlerhood and laugh at her antics, I wonder if my next baby will insist we sing, “If you’re happy and you know it…” (shout “HOORAY!” is her favorite one right now) over and over and over and over again.

I am probably just too sentimental for my own good. Topher is always looking ahead and mentioning things we have to look forward to with Thumbelina - intelligible conversations! Soccer games! Sleeping in her own bed! Trick or treating! Roller-coaster rides! The list goes on and on, and I realize there are many fun times ahead, but I will always miss her baby days.

Here is the very first video we ever took of Thumbelina, when both of us were giddy to discover that our crappy little camera could actually record extremely low resolution video. I can’t stop giggling, Topher keeps talking in a falsetto and Thumbelina just laughs and laughs and laughs. So, enjoy. I hope she is always this happy.

The Fairy Pantry

Topher goes to elaborate lengths to intrigue Thumbelina about the antics of her stuffed Barney friends. Last night, Thumbelina and I were making homemade pizza at the kitchen island, with her standing on a chair pulled up next to me. He snuck into the kitchen, dashed into the pantry and stood with the door cracked open and Baby Bop positioned in his hand, peeking around the corner - waiting for Thumbelina to notice. Her surprised gasp alerted me that yet another rendition of “The Fairy Pantry” was about to commence.

She watches raptly as Baby Bop sneaks a bite of coveted chocolate, shakes her tail in hello and sings “If you’re happy and you know it,” in a familiar off-key voice. Baby Bop tends to disappear occasionally, and Thumbelina coaxes her out again with impassioned pleas. “Bop! Bop! Boooooopppppppppppp!” She always returns, happy to oblige, and Thumbelina claps with mesmerized joy to see her little friend come to life, as real as can be. (Interestingly, Thumbelina will never approach the actual pantry when Bop is out and about.)

As the minutes drag on, I eventually find a way to loudly distract Thumbelina, announcing what we’re doing in begrudging help to Topher’s hope for a clean escape from The Fairy Pantry. The moment he hears the kitchen chair squeak, he whips out from behind the door, leaps to the front entry of the kitchen doorway and picks up a prop - last night, it was a laundry basket. “Hi, girls!” he’ll say to us, and Thumbelina will turn around, brimming with news and the need to tell him immediately that her beloved Bop was RIGHT THERE, just moments ago. Topher loves the opportunity to feign shock, and he encourages Thumbelina to go check out the inside of the pantry and see who might be in there. She holds his thumb, very trustingly, and creeps quietly toward the small, darkened room, clearly wondering what she will find. Topher flips on the light and quickly - Thumbelina sees Bop, nestled in the forbidden Easter candy stash, smiling her eternal smile and ready to greet her faithful friend. Thumbelina turns to Topher, her mouth wide open and gasping, and Topher asks her how Bop got in the pantry. “Idaknow!” she says, completely intrigued and pivoting to look at me, as if for confirmation that I didn’t accidentally put Bop in the pantry. “No, sweetpea, it wasn’t Mama.” Topher smothers a laugh. The rest of the night, Thumbelina is hyped up with appreciation for Bop and gives her extra loves and heaps of affection. I think Daddy gets a few extra kisses, too.

This morning, Topher left for work before Thumbelina and I were out of bed. She asked me about Bop immediately, but being completely exhausted from her non-stop-nurse-aholic ways last night, I didn’t have much of an answer. I sleepily followed her out to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and somewhat involved in my own morning routine before I noticed Thumbelina standing outside the closed pantry door, poised and waiting.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Bop,” she said, not moving.

“Oh. Do you think Baby Bop is in there again?”

“Okay!” She got excited at me verbalizing what she was hoping, clapping her hands and gesturing for me to open the door.

We looked, but no Bop. Poor Thumbelina. She stared hopefully at the Easter candy, as if willing Baby Bop to suddenly appear. I suggested we go look in the bedroom and see if maybe she was still sleeping (since I thought I remembered a furry five-inch stuffed animal jammed into my hip from last night). But, she just looked at me with eyes beginning to look worried and eventually teared up, all the while whispering, “Bop? Bop?”

Oh, dear.

We called Daddy and I told her that he said Baby Bop would probably come out to play later tonight, since that’s when Baby Bop appeared last night. “Oh.” I’m not entirely sure she understood, but it seemed to satisfy her hope that the pantry would indeed return to more magical exploits sometime soon…

“what just happened!”

We have really enjoyed the great weather toward the end of this week. We hit the local playgrounds, explored some camping grounds for future use, ran around park trails and visited nurseries as I began collecting my gardening supplies. (We’re a little behind in actually starting the garden, but that’s okay. We may have to just buy transplants of all our favorites and see how that works.)

This weekend we continued our outdoor adventures, but this time Topher was with us. He and Thumbelina have a cozy Saturday morning routine in place. They get up, dressed, eat breakfast and go to her gymnastics club and enjoy the open gym time together (and Mama sleeps in, woo!). Today they came back and we got ready for a local Easter parade at a nearby shopping district. We were a little late for the actual parade, but local musicians were putting on some kid-friendly music and we enjoyed listening. We took a break and shopped for Thumbelina’s new shoes - she’s grown from a size 5 to a 6.5 seemingly overnight, so we went with a size 7 shoe and it’s funny how big her feet suddenly seem. We played on the indoor playground and visited a small petting zoo they set-up specifically for the event. Here’s a picture of Thumbelina looking at her favorite “moo-cow” and Topher “moo’ing” along with her.

Thumbelina enjoying the goats. (She thought they were sheep, so she was “baa’ing.”)

After her nap, we went for a walk at a nearby park with a trail. Thumbelina’s favorite past-time right now is jumping. She jumps everywhere, and often places she shouldn’t. I’m constantly swooping in to save her from near-catastrophe, so lately I’ve just been trying to find safe situations for her to jump to her heart’s content. Most of our walk was a series of jumping antics with daddy…

And, of course, TOPHER’s favorite past-time is using Thumbelina as a vaulting horse.

She always wants to explain to us “what just happened!” (it comes out as “whajuhipn”) whenever one of us is silly with her. “Daddy! Jump! Daddy! Jump!” (Oh, and she talks with her hands like the little half-Italian baby that she is. )

I am SO happy that Spring has arrived. Whew.