SOMEbody Has To Keep Us in Line

After Hubby Dear got home from a long-days’-work the other night, I was sharing with him all my aches and pains, pregnancy woes, and trauma the children had inflicted on me in his absence (okay, so I was dumping on him) and suddenly Mara piped up:

“Mommy? You’re not really. . . crying, but you’re being kind of . . . whiney,” my 2-year-old informed me in the most gracious tone you can imagine with a statement like that. “And big girls don’t whine about a thing like that. So you should stop whining.”

After her soliloquy, she stood silently waiting for my response. Once again, my two-year-old had rendered me speechless.

As you might imagine, my husband was smirking with amusement and hesitantly remarked, “She has a point.”

But Mara also keeps Daddy in line.

For instance, she saw that he hadn’t finished the lunch I sent to work with him. So when he came home, she said, “Daddy? You didn’t eat your chicken. And when you don’t eat your chicken and you leave it sitting out all day, then it goes bad and Mommy has to throw it out. So you should really eat your chicken.” She nodded, for emphasis, and added: “You should eat the lunch that Mommy gave you.”

It’s tough being responsible for parents like these when you’re just two years old.

My Littlest Daughter . . .

My littlest daughter is 23 weeks along now. I mentioned to Daniel that, at 23 weeks, babies actually have a 10-20% chance of surviving outside the womb.

Daniel looked a little stunned. “Well, that’s depressing,” he said.

I thought it was kind of amazing–just from the standpoint that, if something happened and she was born, she now actually has a chance of surviving! (Some friends of ours lost a baby at 20 weeks. He was due the day Mara was born, and of course, at 20 weeks there was just no hope for the baby–nothing they could do.)

In addition, our baby’s chances of survival outside the womb increase almost exponentially over the next few weeks.–Those are the statistics that Daniel finds encouraging!

As for Little Boo herself: she must be an optimist.

During the ultrasound, she gave this very clear “thumbs-up,” and our tech captured the delightful moment for us.

ThumbsUpFromLittleBoo

I’ve been wanting to post this picture for a couple weeks now and haven’t gotten around to it. You can see the “thumbs-up” on the right, and that’s her foot on the left.

(Have I mentioned that I love baby feet too?!)

I’ll get to see them again on November 16. For now, I just feel them kicking.

You KNOW You’ve Been Watching Too Much Major League Baseball. . .

. . . when your two-year-old daughter spits on the floor in her bedroom.

Blatantly, shamelessly spits on her bedroom floor.

I didn’t even have to say anything. I think the appalled look on my face must have told her that behavior was completely unacceptable.

She quickly scuffed her shoe over the spit on the floor and smiled nervously. “Don’t worry, Mom. I cleaned it up with my shoe!”