Mini Me

So M and I are sitting on a plane as per usual. Of course we have to be that family that boards first because Maggie must get her 15 stuffed animals arranged before we take off. Suddenly M is mesmerized by the boarding process. A midget passes our row and my sweet little girl says.."mommy she's mini, just like you." Thanks, I think?

When we arrive at our destination airport, M must test every chair on the way to baggage claim. I'm at this airport monthly and I have never noticed the chairs, or the even that there were different types of chairs. Seeing the world through the eyes of Maggie reminds me how beautiful and exciting life is.

Bubbilicious

Last weekend was the mother of all soccer games....well if one is five years old anyway. There should have been 4 games but rain and snow and wind and sleet and just overall crappy weather reduced the season to a mere 2 games. These children had practiced for 4 weeks without a game; they were ready. This game was quite the educational experience for me. In fact, everything I need to know I learned at a soccer game.....

It really doesn't matter which team one is on and it certainly doesn't matter who scores a goal. Everybody celebrates.

Scoring on one's own goal is celebrated just as much by the kids. (The parents can't stop laughing.)

Bubbles will cause an entire field of children to abandon the game and chase them off the field.

Snack time is infinitely more important than the game.

It's OK to touch the ball...it's easier to kick the ball if it's not moving.

The kid who brings the best snack wins.

Oranges slice smiles will make 5 year olds laugh so hard they pee their pants

Dandelions will be picked and given to mothers mid-game

These games make my weekend. I can't stop smiling.

Maggie No Poo

What do you do if you get swallowed by an elephant? Run around until you get pooped out.

And herein started our week....My little Maggie Moo turned into my little Maggie No Poo. (This might have to be her Indian name.) I can only imagine that the antibiotics killed her gut flora and everything went downhill after this. Picture if you will, a 35 year old begging and pleading a 5 year old to poop.....sitting on the potty with her, reading her books and holding her hand all to no avail. Finally, ol' mom smartened up and put No Poo in a warm tub. Bingo....I got the outcome I was hoping for but not WHERE I was hoping for it. A little bleach kills everything, right?

I must admit, Jack was smarter than I, and and literally bribed the poo out of M. Really? I kinda thought we were anit-bribing. Screw logic and sweet talk, a Webkin cures all things. I feel the same way about jewelry.

What the Blank

M and I moved into a charming (if I do say so myself) little bungalow in a neighborhood teaming with kids. Much to M's delight and for the first time ever, there are children mere steps from our front door. Maggie eyes glaze over at the sight of eight year old Lilly playing across the street. When the weather is nice they roam the yards like a pack of wild dogs, going from house to house depending on who has the best snacks. (No one ever comes to our house.....apple slices?!)

For days Maggie had been talking about Blank. Blank this and Blank that, I thought it was some cute pseudo swear word that Jack had taught her. Finally, finally Maggie referred to Blank's cats. You mean Blake's cats? The 5 year old neighbor BLAKE? She nods her head in that exasperated didn't you hear what I said manner.

It's been heard........

"It's been heard that the Easter bunny has never been seen by anyone. What do you think of that?"

I think at 6:30 am in January that is a hard question to process. "Hmmm....."I say to Maggie "why do you think that is?" She shrugs her shoulders and runs off to make a dog sled team out of her stuffed animals. (I couldn't make this stuff up.) And herein lies the reason I love being Maggie's Mom; the random questions followed complete disinterest in the answers. Or how about the sudden attack of kisses followed by a sudden attack of surliness, all for completely inexplicable reasons. Oh, how lucky I am.

Be still my beating heart.

Maggie has become adept at the house shuffling. I call her and she can't be bothered to come to the phone. Jack must drag her to the phone, put her on speaker and force her to talk to me. This also holds true in the opposite situation; she can't be bothered to talk to Jack either. I tell myself this is a sign of a happy child. I'll keep repeating the mantra until I believe it.

Last week, I called the little monkey from New York and the above paragraph held true as per usual. If all is right with Maggie, then all is right in my world too, so I went to Bryan and Doreen's for dinner. Bryan and Doreen live in the middle of nowhere, about a 5 minute drive to any type of cell phone reception. This would be considered the middle of nowhere in 2009, right? I check my messages on the way home and lo and behold there is a message from Maggie, " I miss you Mommy, I love you so much. I hate Daddy, he's mean. I just want you, Mommy, where are yooouuuuuuu?" The message was left no later than 30 minutes after I called her the FIRST time. It ripped my heart out. This kid has my number dialed and I'm afraid I'll be powerless to resist her for the next 20 years or so.

The pig stays

When asked what is the difference between a guinea pig and a hamster, Maggie irritated by such a pedestrian question, replied "hamsters have wheels in their cages." Clearly. The guinea pig, Calypso, is the love of M's life, except when it comes time to change the bedding. I think the name Calypso sounds more like an entertainer at an adult club, but I've grown to love the pig too. Whenever someone enters the room she squeals, well like a pig.

The thing is we have pet "issues" at our house. We tend to kill fish and tadpoles. I did find Maggie with the last fish in her hand trying to pet it, perhaps that has something to do with the high death toll. Tadpoles never seem to make it anywhere close to adulthood. I'm allergic to cats and my travel schedule doesn't warrant a dog. So Calypso is staying and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that she'll survive the frequent baths and the parade of neighborhood children.

Pass me the smokes old lady.

Poor Maggie has been sick for weeks. This week she sounds like a 60 year old male smoker. When she talks to me it's a little bit freaky. That voice just shouldn't come out of that little mouth. Next thing I know she'll be calling me Mel and telling me to pass the smokes.

As a product of parents who were lax in the affection department, I tend to go overboard. I'm always telling M how much I love her. Lately my affections have not gone unnoticed. Last night M told me that her favorite body part was "my love." While this is sweet, everyone who knows us can confirm that her true favorite body is my boobs. This is what I get for popping my slow to gain baby on my breasts every time she cried; I didn't want the little peanut starve. She clearly did not starve and in the process I created a boob monster. We actually have a rule in our house..."no touching mommy's boobies." I mean, really!! I keep telling her that she needs a girlfriend. I even tried to pass Aunt Eileen's clearly superior breasts off to her, but neither party was interested.