Baby H.

There are few friends that you can grow with.

After not seeing each other for, say, 5 years, it's relatively easy to just 

hang out

again.

Of course, after 5 years you will have both married

and had kids.

But when one of you had a boy and one has a girl

You can giggle and dream about them marrying someday

Or just being good friends

who sneak kisses and share toys.

Yup.

It's good to have good friends.

Ninja.

I'm sitting right there 

watching her, playing sidewalk chalk with her.

I turn around

walk to shut the garage closet door

and she looks like this.

Please, please.

Someone tell me

where my ninja daughter

finds axle grease to play in.

Note to Self...

1. When a nice lady in the Aldi's parking lot offers you her cart and then hangs around like a bell hop waiting on a tip, you should put down the three bags for your groceries, put down the unruly 18-month-old on your right hip who keeps repeating "Hi, Hi, Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii," wrestle the stuffed dog and baby blankie in your left hand to find your purse, then proceed to dig around the bottom of your bag until you find a quarter 15 minutes later.  After all, carts aren't free.  And it wouldn't have been faster to get your own cart.

2.  When being a smart shopper and hitting up a few different stores, do not, I repeat, do not, purchase milk at the first stop.  Especially whole milk.  In 98 degree, Indiana summer weather.  Ew.  Gross.


3.  When the jovial post-mistress offers your 18-month-old daughter a sucker, do not allow her to hand the sucker directly to your daughter.  Your daughter might eat the wrapper off and promptly swallow it, proclaiming in a loud, gratuitous manner "MMMMMMMM!  MO! (aka more)."  Awesome Mom bonus points for that one.


4.  Upon returning home, do not allow said child to "help" put away the pop-tarts.  They will end up in dog food bowl.


5.  Do allow daughter to help put away dishes.  The tupperware might end up all catty-whompus, but who cares.  She's occupied, "helping" and not destroying the kitchen.  Or eating wrappers.  Or axle grease.  Or Comet.  Or anything else that might cause you to call poison control.

New Clothes?

Aunt Becky sent a box last week.

The box was full of lovelies.
One being his adorable pale blue and white pinstripe bubble with red accents.

Oh.  The red accents.

Long story short, I thought it would be "oh so fun" to dress her up, do her hair in pig-tails with red ribbons, and have a photo shoot in the backyard.

I mean, come on, look at her.

So we did just that.

Cleaned up the Salt Water sandals, re-did the crazy hairs and even wiped the snack residue off her face.

Perfection.

We toddled outside, bringing Homer along, when I realized I left the phone in the house.

Crum!  I thought,  What if we get locked out...I should have the phone.

I saw the two neighbor kids, M & S, and decided

they can keep her out of trouble for two seconds while I grab the phone!

Wrong.

I walked outside to and empty garage.

No Sesame.

No M.

No S.

And no Homer.

Where were they, you ask???

Why, in the recently rained in sandbox of course; becuase that's where everyone plays when they have a new, pale blue and white outfit on!!!

Then I reminded myself, Emily they're just kids.  They're playing.  It can't be that bad.

Wrong.

Sand on the bottom.

Sand on her hands.

Sand was pretty much...

...everywhere.

And then, I stopped to think.

It's just an outfit.

As gorgeous as it is,

it's still just clothing.

She was having so much fun in the gooey-mud-swamp-sand.

Just being a kid.

Watching the older kids build roads and dig for treasures.

Playing with the scary stray cat who was missing chunks of his ear.

Really.  What's a bit of sand anyway.

It will wash.

So.

We scrapped the "formal" photo shoot and frolicked with the neighbor kids.

When the mosquitoes started nipping at the kids we moved to the garage and sidewalk chalk.

When Sesame ate axle grease and smeared it on her new clothes like war paint,

I decided it was time to go inside.

And call poison control.

And have a bathe.

I washed her freshly grease stained outfit, and you know what?

It all came out.

Every.

Last.

Bit.

: )

The Uncles.

I've mentioned Sesame's Aunties before - but never her Uncles.  : )

Sesame is blessed to have Uncle Matt and Uncle Ross who are awesome-tacular.  She also has two honorary Uncles.

Uncle Mike is the best.  

He will teach her important things like, how to operate an i-phone and build a stellar lego tower.

Sesame will heart him.

She already does.

This is Uncle Jones.  

He will teach her important things like how to clean a gun, and how to be sarcastic.

Two important life skills when you look like Shirley Temple.

Especially the gun part.

You know, 

to keep the boys away...

Doing dishes with Uncle Jones.

See, they're already buddies. : )

Praise the Lord for good friends to be mentors to my baby girl.

My prayer is she will learn what a Man of God looks like from her Uncles.

All four of them.

: )

I Told Her...

I told her when she hopped on that horse.

I said, "No talking or texting while trotting."

At first she worked around the rules.  I gave her that I'm-the-Momma-don't-disobey-look.  She grinned and held the phone to the horse's ear.  She said, as in gibbered away in some incongruent language- that I of course interpreted as, "Momma, the horsey wanted to phone a friend.  How could I say no!?"  I know that's what she was saying.

Then she crossed the line.

She talked while trotting.  That's right.  MY daughter.  

She felt no remorse about her disobedience.  She was triumphant.

Even tried to coax me into partaking!?  

But I stuck to my guns.  I said, "No Sesame.  I will not talk on the phone while riding.  Nor will I text.  Cell phones are a bad idea in a car or on a horsey.  Now put that down."

She giggled and said, "Homer?"

To which I replied, "Fine we can call Homer, but after that we're really done."

Funny.

I really don't think there's anything else to say about this photo...except that my husband is like me.  See she re-discovered my tampon stash, scattered them about and set herself to reading.  When husband found Sesame instead of quickly punishing her, he grabbed the camera and snapped this FABULOUS SHOT that I will show at her high school graduation open house.  :)  Oh I can't wait.  :)