Losing It

As I was frantically searching for my cell phone one morning, I summoned my daughter from her play time to aid me in my search, "Madeline, have you seen my phone?"

"No, Mom!"

"Are you sure? I can't find it anywhere. I put it right here a minute ago...did you pick it up to call someone?"

"No, Mom! I just didn't see it! I didn't lose it!"

"I put it right here, Madeline. I thought I did. Did you see Mama put it somewhere else?"

"No, Mom. You lost it. You have to find it."

"Madeline you could help me. I know I had it when...."

"Mom, I think that means you're just getting old."

"Gee, thanks, Sweetie."

"You're welcome!" Hee, hee hee.

PS- I found my phone next to my purse almost into the cushion of the couch (I thought I dropped it into my purse).

Memorial Day For Moms and Daughters

Madeline is in the "asking questions" stage of her pre-school years. If you thought she was inquisitive before, "you ain't seen nothin' yet." Since she has been spending more time with and talking to her dad lately, she has been asking more and more (and more) questions about family in general. One of which is, "Who is so-and-so's daddy/mommy/brother/sister/cousin?" 'So-and-so' may refer to me or any random person in Wal-Mart, it doesn't matter the girl wants to know.



She has asked my parents who their parents are as well. My grandfather on my mother's side passed away over eight years ago. So when Madeline asked my mother about her dad, it was difficult to explain this to a three-almost-four year old. She was just not happy with our, "Well, honey, he passed away before you were born."



Sunday, on the way home from grandmother on my mother's side's house, we stopped at Grandpa's grave. I hadn't been there for five years or so*, it was difficult for me to find it. My mom helped, and soon we were all encircling the gravestone. We were trying to gently explain things to Madeline. When I told her that it was time to go, she looked up with her huge innocent eyes and said, "But I want him to get up!" So maybe we didn't answer any questions for her.



In the past eight years since the death of my grandfather, I have been a little sad that he's not around to see things like graduations, etc. But lately, as Madeline's personality continues to develope, I'm sad that my grandfather won't meet Madeline on earth. The mischevious twinkle in her eyes reminds me of him. I was too shy to really be close to my grandfather, but I think she would be if he were still around. I miss you Grandpa, and I wish you could see my wonderful daughter. You'd like her.



*My family has never been "big" in the idea of decorating/visiting graves, etc. We tend to take time to reflect together. My parents have always said that the grave is only where the physical body is, and we need to remember where the spirit is. So, don't think I'm a horrible granddaughter for not visiting his grave. I think of him often.

One Busy Weekend...

This last weekend, which included the birthday party hubbub, was crazy busy. I'm releaved that it's over, but the rest of the summer will be just as busy. Madeline is really growing up before my eyes. I have to remind her sometimes that she still may need my help sometimes (like when she reaches for my scissors!). But lately, she's been extra cute, too.

Maddie: (On Sunday morning) "Mom, am I still four?"
Me: "Yes, you're still four. You can't go back to being three."
Maddie: "I'm almost five?!?!" [wide-eyed with excitement]
Me: "Don't push it!"

I don't know how she jumped from wondering if she was still four to being almost five. She is really looking forward to five because she'll be going to kindergarten and be a "school-ager" then. Oh boy!

Warning: Kids + Cupcakes = No Fun for Mom

This is not for those who have a weak stomach (or for those who have ideal expectations for parenting). The story I'm about to tell is very gross, but funny in that way that irony is funny. Maybe it's more funny for fellow parents. Just beware.

Almost every weekend, Madeline and I make the trek to my mom and dad's house. It's the best bribing tool I have to keep her in line for a whole week. And besides, this week is finals and I needed someone to keep her away from my computer, research, text books, print-outs, and notebooks so that I wouldn't lose my temper. So, I packed up the car, picked her up from daycare, and headed down the road.

Important aside: Friday was Maddie's "favorite teacher friend's" last day at the daycare, since she is moving to Florida. I think one of the more "fun" (read: less busy) parents brought cupcakes for the kids. I think it was a party day (I pulled my first all-nighter of the semester Thursday night, so I'm a little fuzzy on the details from Friday morning when they were telling me the plan for the day).

I decided to take the "back" way from the 'Burg to the 'Ville in order to avoid the late afternoon traffic and check out the scenery along the way. The back way is still all highway, but it's the two lane highway that is to be avoided during any kind of "abnormal" weather. We turned from the North-South highway onto the East-West high way, and Maddie said, "Mommy, my tummy hurts." I told her that we would be to Papa and Granny's house soon (as if soon is still 30 minutes away). She tells me that her "tummy hurts" often, as she has figured out that it has the potential to get her out of going to school, so I didn't pay much attention. Not that there was much that I could do...

About 5 minutes (and a couple of "thrill hill" types) later...I heard her coughing and looked back to see if she was okay. She was not...she exploded in my back seat. More than once. I was very ill-prepared for this moment. I knew that sooner or later that this would happen while she's riding in my car. However, I had no idea that it would happen 15 miles from the nearest gas station. Seriously. The girl picked not just "no where," but smack in the middle of no where to torture her mother. Okay, so she didn't "pick" it, but really, couldn't it have happened someplace where I could have pulled off the road and taken her inside a building to change her clothes? Or washed her face?

We pulled onto a gravel road and cleaned out the car. Luckily, my pack-rat refusal to clean out my car until after finals served me well. I had extra Wal-Mart bags to help contain the wreckage. I had to change her clothes and clean out her car seat. It was the grossest thing ever. Ever. I like to think that I'm a tough chick, and maybe it was just the lack of sleep, but I don't think so. I used something like 50 handy wipes and two bottles of water (which I keep in my trunk) to help contain the grossness. Poor Madeline got her first lesson in gargling, too. I handed her a water bottle, and told her what to do. She would have made a red-neck proud with her spitting technique. After that, she said she felt better.

Maddie kept saying, "I'm so sorry, Mama," while I was cleaning up. I kept telling her that I wasn't at all mad, but I'm sure that my facial expressions were not very reassuring. Poor thing.

We got it all cleaned up and packed away and hit the road again. Before my Maddie drifted into nap time, she said, "Mama, I love you." And that made the whole thing much easier to bear.