Last night has been the worst of it though. Olivia woke up around 3:30 am very cold and very cranky. There was a coupling of sickness and Terrible Twos that was charging the mother-of-all-fits. I was asleep in the guest bed with Elise and she was marathon nursing when I awoke to Olivia freaking out with Rob because of any number of unreasonable specifics.

Once I thought that I had Elise soundly asleep enough to leave her to help Rob give Olivia a change of scenery I sneaked away. Rob ended up going back to the guest bed because Elise woke up after I left, and I ended up taking Olivia to our bed.

It was amazing how quickly Olivia changed from a screaming Beast to a smiling little Cherub when she knew that she wasn’t going to be alone anymore. Most nights she really loves her room and feels very secure in her bed, but last night I could tell it just wasn’t going to happen.

So at 4:30 am the family all slowly drifted back to sleep in their unusual beds. I heard Rob soothing Elise while she growled like a small rodent. And I lay awake looking at Olivia’s chubby cheeks, the last bit of her babyhood, in the early morning glow from the streetlight. Every time a distant train sounded its whistle in the silence Olivia would stir and say, “What’s that train saying?!”

“It’s saying, ‘Good night, Olivia, close your eyes.’” I would tell her.

Eventually we all dropped off to sleep. And when I woke up this morning much later than usual, I was smashed between the Olivia and Elise like the sweet creme in an Oreo.

I’m asking seriously. I have to make a decision in a couple of weeks about craft for this year, and I want to make sure I have input.

So lurkers, frequent posters, friends and passers-by, please lemme know if you think that craft is cool or not. Thanks.

Yesterday it was warm enough to go outside, so when Olivia found mud puddle I was so elated to be in the sun I didn’t care if it meant an extra bath. Liv found many uses for the puddle. She painted the trashcan, she painted my car. She painted her shoes and herself.

Then she filled up a little bowl from her toy kitchen with watery mud and offered it to Sherman saying, “Take, Sherman. This is the true blood of Christ!”

How do you break the news that girls can’t be giving communion to dogs? It’s just not theologically sound.

4 weeks left until my race!

Please pray that I don’t injure myself, get ill, or do anything else that would prevent my finishing this race.

And if you happen to live nearby, there’s a BBQ following, bring your own hotdogs and beer.

Yes that’s the Smashing Pumpkins and Radiohead and The Cure.

I like it, but there’s something wrong with the thought of my child falling asleep to a song which has the lyrics “This is what you get when you mess with us.” Talk about an adversarial parent/child relationship!
Yikes!

Me: (pointing to a picture of the cross with a figure on it) Who’s this?

Liv: Jesus

Me: What is he doing?

Liv: He’s dying.

Me: Is he dying for you?

Liv: Yes. And Elise, and Sherman.

Me: (pointing to a picture of Mary) Who’s this?

Liv: Mary. She’s blue.

Me: Yes, Mary is usually wearing blue. (pointing to a picture of the Tomb) What’s this?

Liv: A rock.

Me: Yes this is the tomb where Jesus was buried after He died. (pointing to a picture of the empty tomb) What’s this.

Liv: (very excited) The rock is open! This is the happy part!!!!!

Me: Yes! It is so happy that Jesus rose again! He is alive!

Liv: He rose again!

Rob looked at me vacantly.

“You’re not listening to me. That’s OK, I’m not saying anything important.”

Then Rob said, “No, I heard exactly what you said. You cleaned out the refrigerator today and there was a lot of gross stuff in it. But what am I supposed to say? ‘Yes’ and then you’ll get mad, or ‘no’ and then there’ll be more gross stuff in the fridge.”

Edited: because I forgot the add the part in italics. I had a really long day yesterday.

Blessed Easter to you all!

Today we stopped to say hello to the wooden Elephant statue, paid a $13.00 fine (!!!) and spent the morning playing in the children’s area. Then we buckled into our seats in the stroller and rolled our way to the mom-section (sewing and child development and cookbooks are all within 3 shelves of each other!) and I found exactly what I was looking for.

Then a homeless woman who calls herself “Mama Rose” held the elevator door for us and told us that she will not tolerate anyone disrespecting the children in this town. I thanked her and we went on our way. I saw her later when a young man, who I’m supposing was not related to her said, “Good morning, Mama Rose. Good to see you.” I’m glad she has the library to hang out and stay warm. I’m also glad that my children have enough exposure to the homeless and other people unlike themselves that they can be comfortable, and gracefully cautious, around them.
On our way out Olivia declared, “I love the library!”

My ride is sooooooo mommed.