Christmas in July

You know what happens when you are a mom and a toy store has a retirement clearance sale? You stock up on Christmas gifts. Or if you are addle-minded and sleep deprived (read Breanna), you buy age-inappropriate gifts that you'll need to store for a couple years (in addition to cutting your own bangs and experimenting with caffeine--it does indeed affect Pippa). Planning ahead. A skill yet to be mastered.

Mermaid

We celebrated a 4 month birthday today :) And since we were thrilled that neither of us have dropped, burned, stepped on or elbowed Pippa, we decided the only thing to do was to try our hand at failing to submerge her in chlorinated water.

She loved the water and splashed about a bit. The photos below document the experience well. So for the word nerds here is a short story that sums up her emerging personality.

Even though Skip and I did all the work when we went swimming I expected Pippa to be worn out. I recently implemented a 9 p.m. bedtime and have loved the routine. As nine came and went I threw my hands in the air despairingly.

"We must get some ice cream from the shack on the corner," cried my bone-weary self.

As much as I welcomed sleep, Pippa fought it and only a chocolate-covered cherry frozen treat could console me. I later regretted this decision for many reasons, one that I screwed up my bedtime routine. That five minute trip cost me an extra hour of bouncing, rocking, rubbing, swinging and singing. In a dark room, on a dark bed I cuddle Pippa and struggled to find one more lullaby. When my memory failed me I launched into the eleventh round of "You are my sunshine..."By then it seemed Pippa's kicking and arm flailing beat in time with my broken record.

I stopped singing because my throat hurt from the soft tone I was using and because it wasn't working. I took a couple deep breaths and told Pippa that when she was older, she'd wished she'd had this extra hour of sleep. Then I dramatically threw my arm over my eyes. I felt a final move to my left then silence. I lifted one eyelid and swallowed a giggle. Pippa had thrown her arm over her eyes in mirror to me and promptly fell asleep. Stubborn but smart. I think she just might live another month.

Let Your Colors Burst

Fourth of July + heat wave + muggy damp air = SPARKLERS!

Out here in Peoria we have nightly light shows displayed by our neighborhood fireflies. So on the holiday of freedom we chose to give back and dazzle the fireflies with our wild sparklers' drawings. We drew dizzying circles, squares, figure eights and at times let the sparks sparkle on their own. Next year we'll incorporate some color.

Caught!

For Father's Day weekend Skip bought me some flowers to plant in my pots. Read that sentence again. I've got a good thing going here. Pippa and I planted all but one right away. That one was carefully put in the shade for later. And it endured a horrible storm that night. Whoops! But that would not be the end of this story.

We planted it a couple days after the storm (it took me that long to decide that it could be revived and I had not killed it). Surprisingly it perked up the next day and had bright pink flower buds. A morning or two after that I noticed some potting soil on the deck. At first I thought I'd been a messy gardener, but when I looked again there was noticeably more soil on the deck and my flower was lying on its side wilting in the heat.

So we anchored it in the soil again and gave it a drink.

Doomed, I thought. And possibly the end of me receiving gifts on Skip's holidays.

Once more it flourished, as much as one little plant can for two days before a horrendous night of wind and rain beat it down. I had placed the plant on a stool to keep the critters out of it. The storm knocked it over and my plant lay a few inches from its pot. By now you believe this to be the bitter end. It is not. We re-planted. And the flower buds returned. And I moved the pot back down on the deck....

And this morning I saw the chipmunk digging in the soil. And tonight I'll be ready with my Daisy Red Ryder. I'm declaring war on the flower obsessed chipmunk and the squirrel that stares at me when I eat.

Temptation

Does anyone else see this and have the urge to snuggle up? I see her sleeping, smelling sweet and I want nothing more than to grab her and hold her tight and nap with her. Exactly like I used to do with my stuffed animals. Unfortunately I found some of those animals on the floor or crammed in a corner the next morning. So I must refrain.

Still the thought of holding her intoxicates me and my arms twitch. Often I find myself lying beside her, my head placed just so, in hopes that she'll sense me and skootch up to me. Or maybe just graze my face with her flickering fingers. And that explains the scratches, but does nothing to quell the desire to "hug her and squeeze her and pat her and pet her..." Soon I'll be calling her George.

Mom vs. Dad

When Skip's sister flew out to see a fresh young Pippa she witnessed Skip vying for favorite parent status. He had a lot against him seeing as I was the person feeding the babe and really that's all she needed. Now that she needs 24 hours of attention the competitive parenting has actual competitions--who can make her smile, laugh or put her to sleep. I've still got an edge with nursing but after this morning it might not matter.

A little thing called life got in the way and I had to leave Skip in charge for a bit. Pippa's full tummy gave way to a fussy episode that resulted in soaked pajamas prompting an outfit change. Skip gave me the play by play when I returned home a little over an hour later, ending with "Doesn't she look cute?"

This is something I ask Skip multiple times a day. I'll send pictures through text and email or hold her up during a skype session. "Doesn't your daughter look cute?" I'll ask after painstakingly matching her fifth shirt to her third skirt to her socks or leggings and completing the outfit with a headband and bow.

"Notice how the trim on the skirt pulls out the color of the daisies on her top? And look the stitching on her socks are the same as her flower bow, plus it's a complementary color of her buttons. The Sesame Street character on her diaper is in the same color family." We accessorize with blankets, pacifiers, and mommy's outfit.

I looked under the blanket to see what Skip had dressed her in.

"Yes dear, that's a darling onesie."

The Power of P90X

Or something like that. I tend to get the order of the P the 90 and the X confused. Oddly enough, I also get the exercises confused and am usually one or two steps behind or ahead. And I know that you are all hoping this post is complete with a photo of my awesome abs, bulging biceps and cut calves. There are no such photos. There are no such muscles.

No this is a story of the family bonding time created by a 30 minute Core Synergestics endeavor. First, I convinced Skip that there were enough pushups in the program for him to skip the weights at the gym and come home. This was a ploy. I really just wanted a workout buddy and a need to get moving. It worked.

Second, Pippa woke from her nap just as the opening credits rolled. So I threw a blanket on the floor, laid her down and started my warm up stretches beside her. This did not work. She likes to be held. So I held her and modified the activities. During pushups I kissed her nose. And for lunges I held her...and she believed this to be a roller coaster. Here we are high in the sky and now there's a dip. Oh look! there's Dad (giggle giggle giggle). More lunges Mom!

My bum is sore from the Pippa lunges and my abs from all the laughing. Now we know to record our workouts :)