wouldn't it be lovely?

Everything she sees lately is lovely. This is lovely oatmeal, Mommy. I love you, lovely Mommy.

I do not feel so lovely. I am tired and irritable and my skin is itchy. I am tired of being stuck indoors. Tired of our torn apart house. I am tired. I think I have been tired for about five years now.

It's hard to be an angerball when someone so lovable spends her days calling you lovely.

pumping you up.

Me: Claire, can you get the baking soda for me?
Her: Sure. I'll use the big muscles God gave me.

love and logic: fail.

I tried a little Love and Logic on the girlie today while thrift shopping.

She was trying on sunglasses and I told her, "last pair, girlie. Time to go."

One more, Mommy.

I said nothing. I walked out. I whispered to Nate what we were doing. I watched. Three seconds later she stood at the door, bright red face, tears streaming down.

She ran to me. We hugged. We talked.

On the way home she says, "My mommy left me at the Goodwill." Can't wait til she repeats that one at preschool.

burt reynolds: a definition

When a baby unzips his footie jammies down to the navel, in attempt to assert his independence or perhaps communicate a desire for a new diaper.

Thankfully, Mister Baby is still pre-chest hair.

gender study

for hollie, who once got me pregnant and will soon be a mommy

At your shower, you asked me for advice. I gave you very little. I'm sorry.

I sat in that room full of friends watching my girlie jump up and down (and then pull her tights over her bum) as you opened gifts. Cute little things that will soon be covered in spit up and vomit and pee. I wasn't looking at the gifts. I was looking at the girlie. The one in the polka dots. The one who is mine. How can she be almost four?

A first baby is magical, she will be the recipient of your freshest parenting. I sometimes look at my two kids and marvel at how The Mister received such a very different mother from his big sister. And still. You will close your eyes one night, breathing in that sweet baby smell and wake up with a three year old. She will fill your days with questions and for a brief moment, she will really believe that you have all the answers. I know you know this too, but Hol, it goes fast. Soon she will be the girl at the baby shower jumping with delight at someone else's gifts, and even at three, she will be your favorite person in the room.

i feel fine every time she's around me now.

In the car this afternoon, she gets a far off look and a smile.

James Taylor is on the radio.

Me: What are you smiling about, girlie?

Claire: I listened to this song when Teddy was in my tummy.

News to me, kid. News to me.

33*

Today I turned 33. It was a perfect day. Maybe not a thrilling day (we went to story time), maybe not a fancy day (we ate pizza and they baked me a cake). But it was a perfect day. Spent with the people I love most. This week during quiet playtime, she drew pictures and hid them under her bed. She gave them to me at breakfast, wrapped up tight, filled with declarations of love. He baked while exhausted, brought gifts full of thought and care that reminded me that I am the luckiest girl I know.

*For the record, this does not mark the end of my 33 things list. I wrote the list in August and intend to complete it by August 2010. I better get a move on.