florida

Annabelle is such a little trooper. Her schedule was shot to hell, an 11 hour drive with just 2 diaper changes, no snacks, late naps, bedtime at 11:00 p.m. (just once, don't call CPS), not to mention we had her in a swim suit playing in the sand when it was so cold outside I was huddled in a beach chair under two towels. But she was just happy as a proverbial clam, only requesting one thing the entire time : bubbles. Yes, that's right, the new word that we shall not say out loud lest she repeat it again and again while chasing you down with the bubble container in hand is bubbles. At home we have bubble time every evening before supper. In Florida it was pretty much any time some poor unsuspecting soul fell for the cute "bubble? bubble?" I considered it my vacation from bubbles, because the thing is, once you start, she wants to help by dunking the wand in and "blowing" while holding the dripping wet bubble wand over you. But everyone we went with was all too happy to oblige her - suckers!

After this trip, I think the world may be split into two camps. It is not an intentional split and some people in each camp want to be in the other one, because for some people the campfire is always warmer on the other side, - no it is not stay-at-home vs. working mom, it is those with kids and those without. I know a few people who are actively trying to get pregnant and when they spend time around me they always say something like "how do you do it, it is so much work, you need so much patience," etc.--and I have Annabelle who is a total cinch. I used to think like this before I has kids. How do you ever have time for yourself. How can you live with a schedule? How can you function or get anything done when your life is dictated by some little person who poops their pants and needs a nap? The answer, of course, is that you just do. You get patience, jump on board the schedule train and you love the little dictator and spend every minute that he/she is awake trying to form them into kind, loving souls. Then they go to sleep, and you blog/shop/read/sleep -whatever. But you cannot fathom that you can be a parent and wipe and spank a butt until you are in the thick of it. Just one of the beauties of life, I guess.

Hyphen thinks I should not curse on MY BLOG. He thinks I curse too much. We had a curse off this weekend. His score was 5. Mine was 4. Our childless friend had over 40. I totally won. And one of mine was a well placed "asshole" that was NOT directed at Hyphen.

Sorry, I couldn't figure out how to rotate that pic, but it was cute