The scene.
I'm at the kitchen counter bare-footed-french-toe-nail-sporting (my mother's day gift I collected just this week) armed with a sorry excuse for a knife. Attempting to chop greens & other salad fixings. This always congers memories of Tanzania for me. When Bibi Mary & I would bleach & prepare the fresh fruits & veggies. Bonding. Laughing. Mostly at my sorry Swahili. Or Jonathan's! It's a sweet memory.
But yesterday, I was enjoying some much needed alone time. Just me, my cute toes, the salad & my thoughts.
Didn't last long.
In bounces Bristel. I don't pay much attention. I'm still relishing my silent moment.
Through the fog I start to hear some whimpering. The getting into trouble kind. Not the hurting kind.
At first I ignore. But I'm a sucker for the mommy-guilt factor so I give a half-hearted,
"What's the prob, hun?"
More whimpering.
I sigh (what's more annoyed than a sigh?) and turn.
There she stands. Bathing suit dripping. Blond curls sopping. Sun kissed & cute. In her arms she's holding (just barely) the pitcher of tea I recently filled to the brim & put in the fridge. Which evidently she can open. It's quite possible the pitcher weighs more than she does! Dripping wet!
Super Mommy (that'd be me) sweeps in to save the day. And the floor - having been recently mopped & glowed! I quickly place the pitcher in the midst of the salad stuff. We have a cozy (small) kitchen.
I'm reaching into the cupboard for a sippy cup. The princess one to be exact. Behind me she giggles first and then says,
"Shew"
::big dramatic sigh of relief::
"That sure was close, mama!"
I laugh too. It sure was. But this is exactly the kind of moment that prompts me to tell her she's not allowed to grow up! She must stay THREE forever! To which she always dimple giggles & insists she wants to grow up. And be a doctor. A Baby Trevy doctor!
Which is really cute. And sweet.
So I guess I should let her. I'm just glad I don't have to today.
::sigh::
I'm at the kitchen counter bare-footed-french-toe-nail-sporting (my mother's day gift I collected just this week) armed with a sorry excuse for a knife. Attempting to chop greens & other salad fixings. This always congers memories of Tanzania for me. When Bibi Mary & I would bleach & prepare the fresh fruits & veggies. Bonding. Laughing. Mostly at my sorry Swahili. Or Jonathan's! It's a sweet memory.
But yesterday, I was enjoying some much needed alone time. Just me, my cute toes, the salad & my thoughts.
Didn't last long.
In bounces Bristel. I don't pay much attention. I'm still relishing my silent moment.
Through the fog I start to hear some whimpering. The getting into trouble kind. Not the hurting kind.
At first I ignore. But I'm a sucker for the mommy-guilt factor so I give a half-hearted,
"What's the prob, hun?"
More whimpering.
I sigh (what's more annoyed than a sigh?) and turn.
There she stands. Bathing suit dripping. Blond curls sopping. Sun kissed & cute. In her arms she's holding (just barely) the pitcher of tea I recently filled to the brim & put in the fridge. Which evidently she can open. It's quite possible the pitcher weighs more than she does! Dripping wet!
Super Mommy (that'd be me) sweeps in to save the day. And the floor - having been recently mopped & glowed! I quickly place the pitcher in the midst of the salad stuff. We have a cozy (small) kitchen.
I'm reaching into the cupboard for a sippy cup. The princess one to be exact. Behind me she giggles first and then says,
"Shew"
::big dramatic sigh of relief::
"That sure was close, mama!"
I laugh too. It sure was. But this is exactly the kind of moment that prompts me to tell her she's not allowed to grow up! She must stay THREE forever! To which she always dimple giggles & insists she wants to grow up. And be a doctor. A Baby Trevy doctor!
Which is really cute. And sweet.
So I guess I should let her. I'm just glad I don't have to today.
::sigh::
6 comments:
The scene here is quite comical-- the kids are still up (9:30 pm) they decide they want a drink so I send them to POP POP. I listen as Pop Pop tells them how expensive it is to make distilled water and asks them if they remember what he did to Uncle Jarret when he didn't drink his water. The funny thing is the kids laugh and tell him yeah you dumped the water over his head. Then I just hear the gurgling of drinking all their water. They come skipping back to bed happy they drank all their water.
That had me cracking up! And thankful that they're upstairs with you! I knew I heard pitter patter feet tho!
xoxo
Cute story. Too funny that I was just holding Ethan while he was asleep tonight and whispering to him that he can't grow up. I want him to stay three. I just want to hit the slow motion button so he grows a little slower. It goes by to fast.
There is just something about three! I loved that age with Toby...and now Bristel...and I'm sure with Trev too someday. Altho each age has been sweet in it's own way. Toby has grown into such a good kid. He's sweet & thoughtful & athletic. I'm SO proud of him! Bristel is just so funny! And Trev is just...adorable!
*sigh*
But yeah...a slo mo would be great somedays!
Hope you have fun today...do you do fireworks with the kids? We're taking Bri...but Toby has major fear of loud noises so he & Trev'll stay home with Grams & Pop Pop!
...danielle
too cute! y r girls so darn eager to grow up?!
I always was...always felt like I was just missing something I guess.*sigh* I guess I understand better how my mom felt.
At least Bri is still into snuggles & smoochies! Actually...so are Tobes & Trev too! I'm a lucky duck!
...danielle
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