--- Welcome to Plotzworld ---

Friday, December 22, 2006

Two!

Dear Mamie,

Today you turn two. TWO! Can you believe it? I can't.

But that's not really true because when I look at you now, I see a kid, not a baby. You have lost a lot of your baby fat although you've retained that luscious belly. But you are almost slim, Mame, like a real little girl. What happened to my baby? You're almost a woman!

This is you: you have suddenly fallen in love with pink. Your pajamas must be pink. Your washcloth must be pink. The towel, pink. The spoon, pink. The fork, pink. Mamie, oh one of the earth tone room and clothes, where is this pink luv coming from? (It's ok, I love pink too.) You are so friendly Mamie that you will go up to strangers and ask to hold hands with them. Sometimes this is not met with joy, but most times people let you. You squeal. You are still a loud kid. You continue in your romance with peaches. Your new thing is to go up to random people on the street and say "Hi Girl," like you are a welcome wagon from the 'hood. You're a sweetie, you know.

So we had a party for you. The picture accompanying this post is you at it. You were mostly sacked out, chillin' and uncharacteristically quiet. Mame, were you freaked out that all your little friends were in your house? We even retreated into the bedroom for a private cuddle. You may have had a fever, but still, you were very quiet. But everyone was here: Arlo, Ian, Charlie, Sabine (the Bean!), Stella, Claudia. Our house was play center central. I shall not soon forget the picture of two kids fighting over your kiddie vacuum cleaner. Who knew children loved to vacuum so much? Vroom, vroom,I know. I made cupcakes that you shunned (no sweet tooth yet, eh?) and you feasted on the booty du veggie. Everyone made a wonderful mess and stayed the whole length of the party. I think it was a success, Mamie. No one cried. And only a few pooped.

You sat on my lap and held my hand tight through most of it. It must have been weird for you to have so many kids in our house. But that's ok. And can I tell you something? I love holding onto you. I didn't mind one bit.

I'll always hold onto you.

Friday, December 15, 2006

Chappy Chanukah

Never mind that I can't find the menorah anywhere. I'm still stuck on how to do this Chanukah thing with Mamie tonight.

See, Mames is all about having a sequence. Morning means first milk, then play, then breakfast, then outside, then lunch, then nap, then play, then dinner, then bath, then bed. She likes to know what comes next. Sure, stuff gets shuffled around. The chicken suit is not put on every night. But still, once she likes something, she wants it to keep happening. That is what's making me nervous.

She's gonna see us light the candles tonight (electrically, anyway) and want to then do that every night. Fine. We can do that. Hey, if an electric menorah makes her happy, then I'm happy too! It's the present part that's got me stumped. This kid ain't dumb. If she gets a gift every night for 8 nights in a row, she is not going to give that up. Then we have the extra added dilemma of her birthday being smack dab in the middle of the holiday. More presents? Damn straight. I vowed to never combine the two. Her birthday is separate.

So, what to do? Well, tonight she definitely gets the baby guitar. And tomorrow she'll get the brown baby doll that she loves so much. I think we'll be ok if she doesn't associate the candles with the gifts. Then maybe the rest of the stuff will be saved until her birthday.

But I know her. It'll be the candles that get to her. The fire. This kid likes the danger. Just like mama.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Somebody's Gross

On Friday something disgusting happened in Mamie's little class. I wasn't there, but Doug told me. Basically, the kids play in one area for a little while and then they walk up the stairs to the official classroom for more one on one play. There are only 8 kids in the class and it's really cute to see them sitting at little desks, all intense with balls of PlayDoh, and pondering how gluesticks work.

Anyway, yesterday upon the entering the room, somebody decided to throw out a poopie diaper IN THE CLASSROOM. It took about 3 minutes for the smell to permeate. Man, I wish I was there to see everyone sniffing their kids' pants (Teachers orders, actually. Now, there's a fond memory of pre-school.) After some detective work, Doug found the offender in the open-air trashcan in the classroom and like the hero he is, disposed of it properly.

If I was there I so would have called out somebody's shit. Well, you know what I mean.

P.S. I so know who it was too.