Today was what we, in Babyworld, would call “a doozy.”
I was baking away as usual and Annabelle became entranced by the container of flour on the table. She ran to her own little kitchen and pulled out her little pots and pans and started mixing away. I figured it would be messy, but I was happy she was getting some tactile stimulation–usually she doesn’t like to get her hands dirty. A few minutes later I glanced behind me and she was covered in flour from head to toe, including two handmarks on her cheeks and her pink princess underwear bulging with flour. She started giggling maniacally (thank goodness Henry was sleeping and couldn’t join in the hijinks!) and took off running through the house, delighting in the trail of powdery footprints she made all over the hardwood floors.
A few seconds later, she’s grabbing handfuls of flour and throwing them against the wall, in her baby stroller, and into Daddy’s shoes. “Daddy’s going to love the powder I put in his shoes!” she shouts as she grabs another handful and flings it against the wall. I’m laughing so hard, there’s no way I can stop her, and so I resign myself to spending the afternoon cleaning it up. How hard can it be I ask myself?
Ha! Have you ever tried to sweep up flour on hardwood floors? It just multiplies! And if you add water? It makes paste! Yes, now all the cracks in my gleaming hardwood floor are filled with flour paste. The cucurachas will be pulling out their maracas and having a fiesta tonight! And my whole body aches from the hour I spent on my knees trying to clean it up.
This was followed by Henry insisting on wearing Annabelle’s white ruffled turtleneck under his overalls and walking up to me with his big eyes and enormous cheeks, staring at me for a minute before reaching out one chubby hand to smack me across the face.
This followed by Annabelle climbing on me like I’m a jungle and she’s Tarzan.
This followed by a nature walk to try to redirect some wild energy.
And all of this preceded by an impromptu morning costume party. I love this day, even though it was a doozy!
Similar Posts
Mozart and The Galloping Pianos of Salzburg
Now I can’t stop thinking of the wild pianos of Salzburg, and in my dreams, they gallop around the mountains, breathless and wild and glorious. If you catch one, you can sit down and make music like Mozart.
- Being a Mom | Divorce Diva | Grief Journey | Hope | Humor | Inspiration | Magical Moments | Travel Stories
Sell the Jewels, Take the Trip
My motto: Sell the jewels, take the trip! In 2018 I had a banner year–I lost my father to cancer, my best friend to suicide, and my marriage to infidelity. I didn’t know what to do to keep my head above water, so I decided to plan an epic bucket list trip for myself, my teenagers, and my niece. I spent so many nights dreaming of sleeping in castles and taking the ultimate luxury train through the mountains, that I…
How I Fell in Love with Belly Dance
All the years I belly danced, people always asked me, a girl from Utah, how I became a belly dancer. These questions were usually asked after a gig, with me drenched in sweat, huffing and puffing and loud music playing. I wanted a quick exotic story, so I would make it up on the spot, saying things like I was a direct descendent of Cleopatra, or that I had a dream about a pink glittery snake that taught me to…
