the accidental confession

The Dada recently discovered a small, but not insignificant, wad of gum on his black coat.

Bummer.

While we discussed strategies for removing the offending Bubble Yum, The Kidling played nearby. We finally decided that Goo Gone was the answer.

Yes, I know it was ridiculously obvious. I would spend an equivalent amount of time deciding to tape my ducts with, well, duct tape. We all have our weaknesses, Dear Readers.

Eventually The Kidling chimed in, asking why it is so hard to get gum out of things. I began to explain that it is very sticky… blahblahblah… Separating something sticky from something pliable and porous… blahblahblah…

I intended to go on with my explanation when Alice interrupted, saying “I won’t do that again.”

Busted.

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greetings from Nanaland (or Papaville, as the case may be)

First of all, apologies. My lack of kidling-isms this week is due to my lack of The Kidling. She has spent the past few days in Nanaland, a place with sunshine, flowers, dessert, extra bedtime stories, field trips, constant attention, and puppies.

Fine, there’s really only one puppy. Whatever.

Alas, just when I was starting to seriously lament the lack of silliness in my life, I chatted with The Nana on the phone. She relayed a few stories that are classic Alice. The first was at dinner time. Alice was starving and cleared her plate of tilapia, fresh green beans, cottage cheese, and who knows what else. Apparently we don’t feed her enough at home. The Nana commented on her appetite, assuming that The Kidling must have just been delighted with the offerings. Nope.

Regarding those fresh green beans, Alice told The Nana, “I thought they were yucky, but sometimes I eat yucky things because I know they’re good for me.” 

That’s my girl.

Now, The Papa and The Nana have had The Kidling for several nights, so you can bet there is another story where that one came from. As you know, dear readers, The Kidling is working on becoming a reader herself. She sounds out everything (yes, everything) and loves to talk about letters and sounds. As they all discussed phonics, Alice told her grandparents, “I say ‘sink,’ but I don’t mean like in water. I mean I use my brain. … It’s hard to make that sound without my front tooth!”

Indeed it is. And guess what? We get my toothless, sinking, health food eater back tonight. Whew!

that damn red ball

The Kidling had a nasty fever yesterday, so I got to stay home with her. Those days are always part selfish joy (snuggle time!) part heart-wrenching empathy (poor, fire-headed kidling). I may be a snuggle opportunist, but even the most selfish mama knows to feel bad for her miserable, aching offspring. Nevertheless, I cannot help but enjoy an unexpected day with my girl.

After an afternoon of minimal complaining, I was starting to think she was feeling better.

Damn optimist.

She mentioned that her head felt “strange,” but that it neither hurt nor was she dizzy. All good signs, right?  (See note above regarding damning the optimist)

At bedtime, the fever, cough, and headache were back with a vengeance. As I gave Alice her final hug and kiss (and smooch, mooch, nooch, crooch, and clooch. Don’t ask.), she started telling me about how she thinks about her headaches:

Alice: It is like a red ball–

The Mama: (interrupts) Your head is a red ball?

Alice: No, the headaches are a red ball that is in my head. Like a bouncy ball–

The Mama: (interrupts) Ohhhhh!

Alice: (reassuringly) –but it isn’t bouncing. It’s. Red on the outside. With tons of headaches inside.

I think there might be another snuggle day Wednesday.

 

way back when…

The Kidling has taken a keen dislike for blueberries. Once her favorite fruit, she now specifically requests her yogurt sans those tasty little morsels of berry goodness. The Dada commented on the transformation, telling Alice, “You used to gobble blueberries down like candy!” Without missing a beat, The Kidling replied, “Now I don’t! Now I gobble candy down!”

And she’s right. Sigh.

and on the seventh day

We were out running errands one recent weekend when I loaded the trunk with The Family’s exciting new acquisitions (Toilet paper and kale. Jealous yet?), closed the trunk, and hopped in the car. As we were preparing to drive away, The Kidling noticed that the trunk was cracked open. You see, the back seat of our new-to-us car has a nifty fold down arm rest with even niftier storage hidden inside. This means

  1. Alice can always have sh*t to do in the car without it looking like a pit; and
  2. The armrest is always down. Seriously. Always.

The result of item two is that Alice has a view into the trunk. This can be funny, such as the time she told me she really wanted to climb into the trunk NOW before her bottom gets too big to fit.

Let’s pretend she didn’t get that from watching me try to squeeze under the couch, okay?

It can also, apparently, be useful. Such was the case on this day, when The Kidling yelled to notify me of the deficiency in my trunk closing abilities. I thanked her, and she responded,

“Sometimes I can be a big helper. Like now! I helped you that time. And it was good.” 

And on the seventh day, The Kidling rested.

no more fun

 

The Kidling is a lucky little munchkin in more ways than I can count. Most importantly, she is safe, her basic needs are all tended to, and she is loved.

By safe, I mean followed around and hovered over. A bit.

By basic needs, I really mean “and then some.” A little bit because we work hard, but mostly because we are fortunate and the world has been kind. Don’t go getting any crazy ideas. She doesn’t have her own iPad or anything, but when she needs new shoes, she gets them. And they’ll probably be cute.

And by loved, I mean worshipped (hence this blog’s name).

You know what puts the lucky-Kidling-o-meter over the top? Alice adores horses, and Grandma and Grandpa have three. Notice I didn’t say we have horses. That would require an acreage we cannot afford, tack we have nowhere to store, farriers I know nothing about (as evidenced by the fact that I spelled it with an “e” before autocorrect saved me), and far more time than we have to ensure they have adequate care and attention.

No, having horses at Grandma and Grandpa’s is the best case scenario for The Kidling. Not unlike a niece or nephew, we get to have all the fun and hand them back when the diaper gets dirty…

But with much messier accidents.

So dear darling child had a fantastically good time yesterday with Grandma and Grandpa’s equine friends. Too much fun, it turns out, because at bedtime she declared, “I will only go to sleep if I can ride a horse right now!”

That settles it: no fun for you.