The Fuzz

Road trips are a mental exercise in forethought and precise planning. The art of anticipating every plausible scenario so one may pack the tools to survive any event...such as carrying a passenger who needs to go #2 when you've just reached the south end of desolation and are headed towards the middle of nowhere. Travel Potty. Check. Appropriate entertainment for the span of 3 hours has also become a fine science of multimedia presentations while driving the car, distributing snacks, disc jockeying the CD, iPod, books, nursery rhyme songs, and books on tape. May I take your drink order? Peanuts?
This trip, I used the oasis of fast food desserts as our halfway point. Shelby, if you can make it there without trying to shred your carseat with your teeth and break glass with your voice, there will be a gigantic icecream sundae waiting for you at the next stop.
She made it there with surprisingly mature patience and a decent attitude. Phew. We sat down to enjoy our reward (hers, as much as mine....ya know, the planning? the preparation?) and she enlightened me with her three year old thoughts on a hot fudge sundae.
Her dimpled fingers gripped the spoon like a shovel as she scraped the fudge from the sides of the plastic cup. Her mouth was open before the spoon had begun its travel. Her little cherub lips were circled in a thin ring of chocolate like a sweet bulls eye. She closed her mouth around the spoon leaving a drip of melted icecream in the corner of her grin.
"Mmmm," she finally mused. When the last scoopable bite had disappeared, she silently handed me her spoon. Gripping the sides of the empty cup with both hands, she tossed back her head, tipped up the cup and slurped down every last drip of fudgey cream.
Licking her lips, she turned to me and said, "Mommy, this fuzz is good!"


Common Ground

I had the unique pleasure of joining our neighbor and her three kids on a walk/playdate today. To be outnumbered by children is not only overwhelming, but when the group includes two extremely active toddler boys things get downright CHAOTIC. Now, I realize men have selective hearing, and I learned this early on when the room included John and the TV. I could have hooked a blow horn to his ear and he still wouldn't have flinched. But listening to this poor mother of two toddler boys (her third, a girl, was perched on her hip) spout orders at ear deafening volume while they zoomed past her in all directions on their bicycles was more than I could handle. It was "Man Hearing" at its best. It was all Shelby could do to peddle her teeny tricycle until her feet were a blur just to keep up with the two daredevil riders.

I've admitted before how I have spent the last year in this new community avoiding potential friends. And this playdate is completely out of character for me. At one point in the day, when all the kids were preoccupied and two moms left to converse, I realized there were few discussion interests we shared. Well, really only one, children. When we had exhausted the topic and our time, for that matter, kids were back and needed shoes tied, nose wiped, another snack, get my ball, I thought to myself, parenting is truly the common bond.

If I ran into this woman at a party, sans kids, no amount of conversation with her could ever convince me of a future friendship. But there we sat, two completely opposite people, chatting the afternoon away because we are mothers, because we are wives, because we are students in the school of parenting.

So, I suppose this meeting signifies a new beginning for me. The floodgates are slowly opening, my "I'm Searching For A Friend" sign is posted, I'm making eye contact, and even smiling at others...occasionally. Who knows, maybe someone out there will become my new friend.


Easter Do Over

We spent last weekend with my parents for a Pre Easter Celebration. My mother nicely asked if it would be okay to do a "little Easter egg hunt" while we visited. After Shelby hunted down 18 plastic eggs chock full of candy, stickers, play jewelry and socks, good old grandma followed it up with humongous gift bags stuffed with beach towels, clothes and hats for both girls. Woah. Apparently, Grandma was pretty excited about Easter.
When the real day finally arrived, Shelby awoke to a small basket of goodies and a few candy filled eggs. A hat, some socks, and some play jewelry...pretty much a repeat of everything her grandmother had lavishly spoiled her with last weekend. She surveyed the loot, checked her little sister's even tinier basket for anything more impressive and then stated, "But I didn't get much for Easter today!"
I can't wait to hear what she says to John's mom at our Post Easter dinner tomorrow night.