Rosie was happily watching Noggin, or so I thought, so I stepped out the sliding glass door onto our back patio to supervise the other three (out on the playground). My daughters were obviously trying to ‘out-nice‘ each other: I have never heard so many ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ manners used in one day! My thoughts were: *So that’s what other moms mean when they’re talking about how polite my daughters are! It’s just ME they aren’t nice for.*
Oh snot. I’m rambling again. Forgive me!
When I returned to the living room, I saw that Rosie’s program had ended and that she was no longer sitting on the sofa. I found her dry diaper on the coffee table, saw her shorts on the floor, and a small amount of panic set in. As I headed down the hallway, Rosie presented a messy hand, and said “I POOP!” I asked her to show me where, and she led me to what looked like a big baked potato. On the floor. In front of the TV. I’ve said it before. I’ll say it again. Pergo is a mother’s best friend.
Then, my DH took Halie and Catie out for the standard ‘Daddy-Daughter Date’. They spoke of seeing Eight Below. They left while Rosie napped, supposedly to give me some much-needed ‘alone time’. I was only able to shower and get partially dry before Rosie was at my door. She woke up from her 2 hour nap a little early. One and a half hour early. I took advantage of having some one-on-one time with my toddler, cuddling on the couch and watching Jack’s Big Music Show. Rosie and I were just finishing the first show of our marathon Noggin afternoon when someone knocked on the front door. This ticked me off more than a little. I have a neon pink card that I clip on my front door (at eye level) that reads: ‘BABY SLEEPING, PLEASE DO NOT DISTURB’. This was absolutely necessary to create when the official brass plaquard that reads ‘NO SOLICITATION’ was not enough to keep girl scouts, boy scouts, high school football players, magical spot remover salespersons, and/or Jehovah’s Witnesses from disturbing my kids’ naps (or my life in general). So, I opened the door, ready to give a dismissive comment, when I had three bouquets of fresh flowers shoved in my face. “Happy Mother’s Day!!” DH, Halie and Catie were each holding a bouquet for me. The whole Daddy-Daughter date had been a ruse! Shame on me. DH also presented me with a coffeemaker to replace the one that died just after Thanksgiving last year… late, but worth it. Now I can actually resume my financial contribution to my daughters’ college fund instead of taking out a second mortgage to afford Starbucks daily. Now, I’m off to buy some Starbucks to make at home…