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.

resolve.

Guys, have you read Don Miller's new book? You should. This book is perfect for the beginning of the year. In a recent post about living a good story he describes the importance of creating an inciting incident. I have loved working through my list of 33 things because it has forced me into all kinds of scenes that I wouldn't have found myself in (see also: I ran a 5K last weekend for the first time).

When I sat down to write the list, if number 7 had read: exercise 4 times per week, I would have failed. But, because I paid the money, signed up for the 5K and invited a friend to run (ahead of me, but still)...I found myself running in preparation for the 5K. The inciting incident motivated me in a way that skinny jeans could not.

Living a great story is way better motivation than some silly resolution anyway. Anyone want to go public an inciting incident? Any non-resolutions?




Unrelated: a photo of the girlie at the exact age that Mister Baby is now. We bought her a "running jacket" the other day at a thrift place. She won't take it off. She told me that she's going to run 6 miles when she's six and seven miles when she's seven. In so many ways, she's me only smaller.

one hand in my pocket and the other one is giving a peace sign.

We turned off the interstate in the usual place and I saw him. Scruffy gray hair, cardboard sign, cigarette down to the nub. His eyes were cold. I smiled stiffly.

"Mommy, he wants food. Why does he have his fingers like that? Does he want two foods?"

Maybe...I answer, not fully listening. It was early, and it had already been a rough day.

"Mommy, we should give him some food."

Honey, we don't have anything.

"Mommy, I could give him the rest of my banana."

The banana is eaten down to a tiny nub. Her eyes are earnest. I tell her we'll be sure to bring food next time. Maybe God will give us another opportunity to share. We pass him by.

"Mommy, we should go get him some food."

Okay. That's a great idea, Clairegirl. And it was. We drove home, chose snacks, returned. I silently prayed that he would still be there. That he wouldn't be intoxicated. That it wouldn't be awkward or weird.

And it wasn't. She sees things that I don't see. He thanked us and we headed home a second time.

These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates." Deuteronomy 6:6-9

13. teach Everett infant sign language.

Total number of signs Everett knew when I started my 33 things list: zero

Total number of signs Everett knows today:
Water
Milk
Juice
Banana
Please
More
Mama
Dada
Hurt
Cracker
Bird
Dog
Horse
Up
All done

Thanks to the big sister and Alex, Leah and Hopkins, communication with the Mister has been a pleasure.

7. Run in an actual race. Done.

"I saw my entire life flash before my eyes. And guess what? I have four kids. And I have a hover car and a hover house. And my wife is a runner and it shows." -Michael Scott, The Office