Moo’s Big Bonk Day

A few days ago we went to visit Moo’s friend …  Steggie (renamed from Hit-It, he’s outgrown that name).  When we got there, Steggie was in the backyard, being, well – a BOY.

Here’s Moo playing:

(With a handful of assorted toys, usually a butterfly, a ladybug, and maybe a horse):  “La, la, oh hello Butter!  Hi Ladybug!  Let’s have a tea party, okay!  Do you want a donut, I’d love a donut, I love STRAWBERRY donuts!  Okay, here you go!  Yum!  Oh look, Baby Horse is here!”

Here’s Steggie playing:

(Running around the backyard, jumping, leaping, hitting various balls with various instruments):  “WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!”

There’s just sort of a different energy level there, am I right?

So I sat down on a patio chair and watched Steggie fish baseballs out of the pond and wheel his tricycle around like Lance Armstrong.  “Well, Moo is probably going to get hurt today,” I thought as Moo cowered next to me, clutching Hop and her purse.  Not because Steggie’s aggressive or anything, just because there were lots of things being catapulted through the air, and Moo has very little experience with flying objects.  I was worried.  But then I thought, Maybe Moo needs to get hurt more.  I mean, not bleeding gashes, please no, but I’ve got a cautious girl and it might be good for her toughen up a little.  Right?

So I jumped into the fray and dragged Moo with me, who soon caught the run-around fever, and kept up with Steggie as best she could.  After baseball, hide n’ seek, foot races, and a few rounds of “Can You Do This?”, Steggie’s babysitter suggested we go out front with the sidewalk chalk.  That sounded like a nice change of pace, so we all settled down and drew dinosaurs, until the babysitter was called inside by the crying twins.  So there we were, Steggie, Moo, and I, and after one more pteranadon portrait, Steggie remembered something much more fun than sidewalk chalk – GAMES WITH BALLS!

Moo was willing, and skipped after him into the garage, where Steggie procured a basketball! and a soccer ball! and a football! and a baseball! and many, many golf balls! and a frisbee, and – zziiiing!  BONK!

Frisbee to the forehead.

Moo wailed.  I scooped her up and patted her back while Steggie nervously asked, ”Is she okay? Is she okay?”

“She’ll be fine, Steggie.  It’s okay, it was just an accident.”

Steggie tried to make Moo feel better by relating the story of his own forehead ouchie, which he apparently got while somersaulting into the pond.  And right at that moment, I thought, “Wow.  I don’t know if I could handle a boy.”

Moo declared that the only thing that could make her feel better was a kiss from Hop, so I set her down, she wiped her tears away and ran toward Hop – only to trip over her own feet and BLAMMO – land splat on the driveway.

Wailing.  Tears.  “Is she okay?”  Kiss from Hop.

After a couple minutes of kisses and hugs, Moo recovered somewhat and said she was ready to go inside and play dinosaurs.  So she stood up, took three steps, and KA-BLAMMO! tripped over herself again, but this time somehow performed a triple axel on the way down, first banging and skinning her knee and then flipping over and whamming her head on the concrete.

Okay.  I think that’s enough toughening up for one day.

That night, I decided three things – first, maybe my plan to just throw Moo into the fire worked, because she proudly showed off her ouchies to Herbie when he got home.  Two – maybe Moo needs some new shoes.  And three – I gotta teach this kid how to catch.  Or duck.

It’s a Miracle!

Yesterday at naptime, I went about our routine as usual, putting Doc away for his nap, helping Moo pick out books to read, and wrangling all the animals into their assigned locations (in bed, in baskets, or on couch with us).  I picked up Happy the Jack o’ Lantern and tossed him into Moo’s bed, and then watched him sail through through the crib rails and fall behind her bed.  I thought about just leaving him there until Herbie got home so he could drag the bed out from the corner, but then I remembered that the last two nights we’d had to frantically search for him after we put Moo to bed and she discovered him missing.  So I tried climbing in Moo’s bed to see if I could reach Happy that way, but quickly realized the bed was not made to hold me.  Then I tried using a yard stick to scoot him out, but no luck.  With Moo calling me from the playroom, I gave up, held on and gave three mighty tugs.  I took two steps, looked down, and right there on the ground between Happy and six sucky’s, I saw something that SHOCKED me.

What did I see, Moo?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hey, what’s that in your hand, Moo?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s STRIPER!  STRIPER!!!!  (Which is exactly what I screamed when I saw him – Striper! Striper! as Moo called,  “What, Mommy, what?” and we all met in a tearful, huggy reunion in the hallway.)  Do you REMEMBER?  Remember how I asked at a hundred stores and restaurants and oh, also how I LOOKED BEHIND HER BED?  I even used a flashlight!  I just didn’t think to pull out the bed from the wall, because how could he have rolled all the way under there?  What a sneaky snake.

Oh Striper, we’re so happy to have you back!  We thought you were gone forever.  To celebrate, we invited all of Striper’s friends to a welcome back tea party after dinner, and everyone got M&M’s. 

And so Striper is back to sussing and dancing and slithering, and back where he belongs – snuggled with Moo and Hop in her cozy, cozy bed.  And now I know – ALWAYS pull out the bed.

Target Lady

Yesterday Moo and I went to Target so I could pick up some groceries and Moo could say hello to her friends the Cat, Spider, and Bat (Target Halloween decorations).  She helped me pick out a new coffee thermos for Herbie, we looked at all the Halloween cakes, I resisted the dollar section (okay, no I didn’t, we bought a robot plate), and we were done.

So, whenever it comes time to swipe my card, Moo wants a turn with the pen thingy that you use to punch in your PIN number.  I have always allowed her to do this, after I’ve done my business and it’s just a blank screen, except for the “cancel” button in the corner which I cover with one finger while she taps at the screen.  Moo is not a wild kid.  We have never had to worry about her tearing apart our house, drawing on the walls, chewing on cords, or climbing the shelves.  So far she has never even tried to climb out of her bed.  So I think I’m a pretty good judge of whether or not she can handle a little checkout pen thingy.

I did my business, swiped and punched in my PIN, while sitting in the cart, Moo repeatedly asked me to share.  “I will, I’ll share, sweetie, be patient,” I said.  And then I finished and handed her the pen.

At which point the checkout lady yanked it out of her hand, snapped “No, no, noooo!” and wagged her finger in Moo’s face.  Moo was shocked.  I was shocked.  My first instinct was to snap, “Excuse me, I told her she could use it.  If you have a problem with that, you can tell me.”  But then I had second thoughts, like always, because I am a person cursed with second thoughts.  So I didn’t say anything, and rolled Moo away from the paying area.  I sent out what I hoped were cold, arctic vibes to the checkout lady while I wondered if all previous checkout people had silently cursed me when I let Moo fiddle with the pen.  I looked over at Moo, who was staring at the lady and clutching Hop to her cheek like she does when she’s scared.  So I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

“Okay, Mommy,” she whispered back.

I gave the checkout lady one more whithering glare as I snatched my receipt from her and we rolled away.  Right then I realized I should have said something.  Why didn’t I say anything?!  Oh, I hate confrontation.  But dammit, I should have stood up for my daughter, and I think the checkout lady was totally oblivous to my silent hate.

Once we were out of the store, I gave Moo a hug and said, “That lady wasn’t very nice, was she?”

“No, she wasn’t!” Moo cried, sounding relieved that I was on her side.

“I guess she was worried that you were going to break the pen,” I said.  “But she wasn’t very nice about it.”

“No, she wasn’t!”

“Sometimes grown-ups forget to be nice, too.  You didn’t do anything wrong, Moo,” I said, ruffling her hair.

“Okay, Mommy,” she sighed, and I could see the weight lift off her shoulders.

Hey, what can I say?  I’ve got a sensitive kid.  Back off, Target Lady.  …Still wish I’d said something.

So should I not let Moo play with the pen thingy anymore?  And what the heck is that pen thingy called, anyway?

One Year Old

Oh no, I missed my own anniversary!

September 8, 2008, I earnestly began my blog, and along with it my quest to rid myself of some theatrical baggage…  And good God, I must say I’m rather amazed and proud that I actually stuck with something!  For (over) a whole year!  Thanks for reading and sticking with me, my dear bloggie friends.

For old time’s sake, let’s celebrate in haiku:

Three auditions down
And I didn’t burst in flames
Gimme more, more, more

My quest is over,
My Moo is bigger, and now
The future is bright

(Except for dentists,
and getting older ugh ugh,
and dirty dishes.)

Umm, introspection?
Just not feeling it tonight,
Conan in my ear.

I think this calls for
A batch of rainbow cupcakes
And frosting (and booze).

Games Toddlers Play

Moo’s new thing is making up games.  For instance, at dinner last night, after our traditional round of the Rainbow Colors game (finding all the colors of the rainbow, a.k.a, keeping Moo interested in staying at the dinner table), Moo suggested her own game:

Moo:  “Let’s play the Testing Game!”

Mama and Herbie:  “?????  Okay!  How do you play?”

Moo:  “FIRST, you wake up in the morning and you go swimming in the ocean.  THEN you put on your pretty dress and you EAT CUPCAKES.  Then you put on your bunny ears and you go to Nana and Grandpa’s house, and THEN you go swimming at Oma and Opa’s house, and THEN you go to Clara and Irwin’s house!!  ANDTHENALSOYOUGOTOTHEMUSEUM!”

Mama and Herbie:  “…Moo, are you describing your Perfect Day?”

Moo:  “Yessssssss…”

I don’t know what that has to do with testing, but it sounded like a pretty fun game to me.  Then it was my turn to describe my perfect day:

Mama:  “First, I sleep in verrrry late and wake up and have a big breakfast of waffles and pancakes and eggs and bacon and there is Bailey’s in my coffee.  THEN I have a new outfit to put on and somebody comes over and makes my hair look pretty.  THEN I read books and THEN I go to the Children’s Museum with Moo and Herbie and THEN we come home and have a biiiiig dance party at our house with all our friends and family and we dance, dance, dance all night long!”

Moo:  “But Mommy, you have to go to everybody’s houses!”

Mama:  “Oh no, they’re all over at our house, dancing.”

Moo:  “……well, OH-kay.”

We had a tussle over tomatoes before we got to hear Herbie’s Perfect Day.  I suspect it involves video games, a bike ride, and beer. 

I much prefer Moo’s Perfect Day game over the game she made up Monday while we were having lunch at AJ’s.  We have a tradition of playing “I Spy” while eating our tuna sandwich, and after a couple rounds, Moo interrupted.

Moo:  “I have a new game, Mommy!  It’s called, ‘I Die!”

Mama:  “Uh, what?”

Moo:  “I DIE!”

Oh, um – that’s awkward.  I am quite sure she has no idea what that word means, and just chose a word that rhymes with “spy,” but couldn’t she have picked a different rhyming word?  There are so many friendly words that rhyme with spy – fly, high, butterfly…

Moo proceeded to explain the rules of “I Die” to me while I cringed.  “You pick a card, and then you slap it down in the ocean, and then you shout, DIE DIE DIE!”

Oh great.   I very determinedly avoided the gazes of the people eating lunch around us.  “Uh-huh, so I pick up a card,” I said, miming, “and I slap it down…”

“And you shout DIE DIE DIE!” Moo finished helpfully.

“How ’bout if we shout, ‘Pie pie pie?” I suggested.  “Pie is delicious!”

“No, Mommy, you have to say DIE DIE DIE!”

Argh.  “I don’t want to say that,” I said.  “Do you know what that word means?”

“Yes!” she said confidently.  “It’s what you shout in my game!  DIE DIE DIE!”

“Hey, how ’bout apple pie?  I love apple pie!”

“But Mooooommy, you haaaaaave to say it!  DIE DIE DIE!”

I was absolutely sure people were staring at my homicidal two-year-old now.

“But, Moo-”

“DIE DIE DIE!” she said gleefully.  “Come on, Mommy!”

“But, I- hey, chocolate pie?”

“DIE DIE DIE!”

“Oh, fine, okay, diediedie,” I whispered, slapping my invisible game card down in the invisible ocean.

Moo smiled happily and took a swig of milk.  “You say chocolate, Mommy?”

Jeez – I guess I need to think of some new games.

They Feel Pretty

Just in case you’re curious what Moo and Herbie do when I’m zonked out from cold medicine…

First, Moo decorates Herbie:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then, Herbie decorates Moo:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And there is so much giggling and sparkling -  that I just have to drag myself out of bed and smile at the two of them.  Soon they’ll be painting each other’s toenails.

Crazy for Cupcakes

After she woke up from her snooze, Moo helped me decorate the rainbow cupcakes:

 
Hmmm, someone thought I wouldn’t notice that finger-shaped smudge!

Matthew’s birthday cupcake:

 
And is there anything more charming than watching a child try to devour a cupcake in one single bite?  I think not.  Cupcake, post-Moo-attack:

 

Yes, I finished the rest.

Summer Rain

 We had our first real summer storm last night, and while Moo played in the playroom and Herbie hunted for clean pajamas, I washed dishes and listened to the wind thudding against the carport door.  No rain yet, but the thunder had started – I cringed at the first thudding BOOM.  I thought for sure this would be the moment that Moo discovered the terror of thunder (I was NOT a fan as a kid).  I waited for her to run into the kitchen and grab my legs, but even as another clap of thunder boomed, she did not appear.  I peeked into the playroom and there she was, laying on her tummy flipping through “Froggy Went A-Courtin.”  Huh.

My kid – not afraid of thunder?  Crazy.  I mean, I had the whole story about angels bowling ready to go.  Although I also liked the idea of unicorns at a rock concert… and I was considering this angle when I suddenly realized it was pouring rain outside.

“Moo!”  I shrieked.  “It’s raining!  Let’s go!”

I yanked on my shoes and scooped her up, flinging open the door and fairly leaping out to the carport.  There’s something about living in Phoenix, being starved for rain, water, breeze, or any change at all from day after day of blazing sun, that just makes you go a little nuts when the clouds finally burst.

The wind made us squint, but it felt cool on our faces, so we giggled and reached out our hands to let the rain pouring off the roof splash off our fingers and ricochet onto our cheeks.  We advanced little by little into the storm, then retreated, hee-hee-ing, back to safety behind the car whenever the wind whipped against us. 

“The raindrops are dancing in circles!” Moo shouted.  “All the raindrops, brothers and sisters and mommies and daddies and nanas and grandpa raindrops – they’re DANCING!  Let’s get Daddy!”

So we called Herbie outside and he immediately scooped Moo into his arms and ran with her out into the rain.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!” they squealed together.

My inner Uptight Mom wanted to give Herbie the stinkeye and suggest that maybe that wasn’t such a good idea – what if they slipped?  What if Moo got sick?  What if lightning struck?  But there wasn’t any lightning, and besides, it was exactly what I’d been dying to do since we first pounced out into the storm.

As soon as they bounded back under the carport, smiling silly, lopsided grins, Moo shouted, “Again!  Again!”

And I scooped her up myself, and ran out into the cool summer rain with my squealing little girl, and danced circles in the driveway, just like the raindrops.

“I LOVE THE RAIN!” Moo shouted to the heavens.

Me too, my dear.  Me too.

Children’s Museum

After the Cheerio Incident yesterday, we needed a happier day, and we found it in a trip to the Phoenix Children’s Museum with my mom.  I was nervous, because our last visit ended in tears (mine, not Moo’s), but luckily the museum wasn’t overrun by school groups or mean moms, and we had a lovely time.

It really is an enchanting place.  That’s the noodle forest, beyond the origami birds:

 

 
I love the small touches throughout the museum.  Can you find Mr. Potato Head?

 
 

 

And I love how happy the museum makes my kiddo:

Deep In It

The other day, at my parents’ house, I called Moo to come to dinner.

“I can’t!” she yelled.  “I’m very busy playing!”

“Moo, listen to Mommy.  It’s time for dinner,” I said, in what I hoped was a calm but forceful tone.

She looked at me, cocked her head.  There may as well have been a giant neon sign over head, flashing, “THIS IS A TEST.”

“I….don’t…WANT TOOOOO!”

Only problem is, I don’t have the answers to this test.

Have I mentioned that Moo is two?

So…very….two…