Sweet, Saggy Baggy

Back in January I went to Abby's school and read a story to her class. I read The Saggy Baggy Elephant, my childhood favorite. My mom read it to me often, and I especially loved the voices she gave the characters.

Before beginning, I explained to the class that the book I was reading is the exact book I had when I was their age -- it is an old book, now sans cover.

I tried to reenact the story exactly as my mom told it, and the 20 or so kids sat quietly and listened. At the end, Ms. Punch, Abby's teacher, took a picture of me and Ab.

Last week I got an email from Ms. Punch saying she had seen a copy of Saggy Baggy while she was out one day, and she had to buy it. Now Ab has her very own copy.

Weary Mom's Axiom

Despite my best intentions, I seem to always be running out the door at the last minute.

"Abby, grab your shoes! William, buckle up! Is Maddie back there?"

I learned long ago to prepare for the next morning the night before. So, like a good little mama, I pack bags, declutter the car and plan for breakfasts after the kids are in bed.

So why do I find myself in such a frenzied rush time and time again?

Sundays are the worst.

They all start the same. We wake up leisurely, eat breakfast, dress, and then somewhere between snuggling on the couch and pouring a third glass of milk, I glance at the clock and realize I've got 20 minutes to get myself showered and dressed.

With one high heel on and one in hand, I hobble down the stairs while simultaneously grabbing things on my way out the door and going over my mental checklist:

Bible bag? Check.
Diaper bag? Check.
Pacifier? Check.
Coat? Check.
Diapers in the diaper bag? Check.
Snacks for Maddie? Check.
Did I brush my hair? I think so.

Sunday, February 3, was no different. Chip loaded the kids in the car, and I finally stumbled into the garage with four bags on my shoulder, two jackets and a Coke. It was when Chip asked where William's shoes were that I had a weary-mom moment:

"I can't remember everything because
I have to remember everything!"

I shouted it at no one in particular and yet to everyone.

After finding William's shoes, I buckled myself into the car, and Chip just looked at me and laughed.

"Maybe I should try that," he joked. "'Ma'am, I forgot to take the sponges out of your kid because I have to remember to do everything.' I'm sure that would go over really well."

I laughed and said, "Well, at least you work with other people. Don't you have a system of checks and balances?"

My mid-morning revelation made total sense to me: I can't remember everything, and yet I have to remember everything.

I'm sure a few other mommies can relate.

Maybe one day I'll get it all straight. Maybe.

In the meantime, I'm off to remember the things I've forgotten that I was supposed to remember so I wouldn't forget to remember them.

Just Add Friends

William, Maddie and I went to the zoo last Friday with our friends Jill, Clair and Caleb. It was such a beautiful day! The kids enjoyed each other's company, and they were totally content eating snacks, trying out all the benches, playing in the bushes, posing with statues, picking up debris and playing on the playground -- most anything other than watching the animals. It was cute.

Gimme an 'A'

Abby attended her cheer clinic on Saturday, and she loved it. She was a little bashful performing in front of the very large audience, but overall, she did awesome considering they only practiced for two hours.

Say What?

I went to the Galleria yesterday.    

Say what?

Yep, with two children in tow. I know, I know ... I said I would never, ever venture out that way. Why did I go? Because I needed to get my ring inspected, and the 2.4-million-square-feet shopping metropolis housed the closest Zales.

After the inspection, I took William and Maddie to the indoor playground and let them play for about 45 minutes. They had a blast! As you can see below, the play area is a miniature, soft foam version of the Galleria.

When William had his fill of climbing on cars and traipsing over buildings, he decided it was time to fill his belly with lunch. So we traversed the mall in search of the food court. There was certainly no shortage of options (or lunch patrons), and I was not looking forward to standing in line and then finding a table (and a high chair!). Then I happened upon the Rainforest Cafe. I asked, "Why not," and we went in and got a table. We were three of only about a handful of people, so it felt like we had the place to ourselves.


The kids loved eating in the "rainforest."

During lunch a little boy of about 4 years who was eating with his mom and (presumably) grandfather, kept looking back at me. Finally he said to his mom while pointing directly at me, "Mom, look at that grandmother over there."

Say what?

The mom turned around and said, "That's not a grandmother." And she quickly diverted his attention back to his half-eaten hot dog. I admit I both laughed out loud and cringed a little at his announcement. It probably wouldn't have bothered me as much if my dear almost-6-year-old daughter hadn't been telling me over and over how old I look for several days prior.

On our way to the car, I decided to peruse the formal dress section in Nordstrom.

"Mama's just gonna peek at these dresses, OK, William?" I said. He responded in his very loud and booming voice, "Mama, you pee peed?"    

Say what?

Mercy. It was nearing time to pick up Abigail, and after a brief stop at home, we loaded up again and headed to school. Ab seemed sad while walking to the car. "What's wrong, baby?" I asked. "I'm so sad," she responded. "I could cry all the way up to Heaven."

"Why, darling?" I responded, thinking something horrible had happened that ruined her day. "Because Abraham Lincoln died," she said, her voice wavering.

RIP Honest Abe

With relief, I asked, "Do you know how he died?"

"In war," she said. "He went behind a curtain, and someone shot him."    

Say what?

I went on to explain the details involving an ill-fated theater and a man named John Wilkes Booth.

My sweet pumpkins. They sure do keep me on my toes.

Oldie But Goodie

In my email this morning I received this picture from June 2010 -- Chip's residency graduation. Thanks, Papa! It was certainly a night to remember.

Laughing in the Snow

Here are a few laughs on this beautiful Friday:

Vicarious Generosity
A few weeks ago Abby heard a presentation at school about homelessness in Houston. She's been burdened about it ever since, and she wants to do something about it. Yesterday she told me that we should donate blankets, but then she started crying because she couldn't handle the thought of having to donate her blankets. Then she said, "I have an idea! We could make some, and then donate those." That was the end of the conversation.

This morning Abby and William came into my room, and Abby said, "William has something to tell you." William, who still had sleep in his eyes, just grinned and held out his green and yellow blanket -- his favorite security blanket. Abby said, "No! You have to say this," and she pulled him back and whispered in his ear.

With big, proud eyes, William said, "You can donate my blanket."

Abby was pleased, and she said, "I get really cold at night, so that's why I can't donate mine."

Crazy about Babies
On the way to school this morning Abby asked (completely out of the blue, mind you), "Mama, if God gives you another baby, will you go psycho?"

I laughed, and asked, "What does that mean, Abby?"

"That means you would go crazy."

"Why would I go crazy?"

"Well, you said you don't like babies."

Southern Snow
And, finally, as the Northeast prepares to be buried in snow today, the kindergartners at Abby's school had a snow day of their own. A company came this morning and made snow for the kids. Here they are; they were like little ants on a mound hill.