Bunny Picture: 2 Years

I'm a month late on Madeline's two-year bunny photo shoot, but better late than never, right?

She's so big!  Remember when she used to look like this?

Or even this?  

Excuse me, I have to go cry into my bag of half-eaten M&Ms now...sniff.  To see our incredible growing baby, click here!  

Harry Potter Halloween

When your husband...who teaches marching band for a living...calls you a nerd, it's a sign that something has gone terribly awry in the universe.

But I have to admit that I probably hit a new high, or is it a low, in the nerdiest of nerd departments when I saw these Harry Potter potion labels on Pinterest on Sunday afternoon.

Ten minutes after first seeing them, Eric walked into the room to find me busily taping labels to bottles and bouncing giddily in my chair. "LOOK!  It's Draught of Living Death!!!"  I squealed as I thrust a bottle before him.

He raised an eyebrow at me.

"From HARRY POTTER!!!!"  I explained.

He raised two eyebrows at me.  "Okay..."

Ten minutes later, he checked in on me again.  This time I had roped the baby into my madness.  We were standing at the kitchen counter intensely focused on our work.  Okay, maybe I was intensely focused.  Madeline was just happy to be allowed to play with salt.

"What are you doing now?" he asked.

"Making potions...gosh!" I rolled my eyes at him.  "Look how awesome the Wolfbane turned out.  I used Chili Powder!" I added proudly.

Eric picked up a bottle and swirled it around briefly.  He did not look impressed.  "You're such a nerd," he laughed before retreating to the safety of the living room.

Now all the bottles are assembled on my dining room table, complete with the box from the basement, a centerpiece of dead leaves from the yard, and some baby pumpkins.  And it just makes me so, so happy every time I walk in the room and see it.  Halloween was made for people like me.

P.S.  The blog that offers the free potion printables has a lot of other Harry Potter-themed Halloween things.  Cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-check it out.

The End is Nigh!!!

Tonight, as I brought Madeline up for bed, I noticed this pamphlet sitting mysteriously on our stairs:

"Uh...how did this get here?"  I asked Eric.

He said I had grabbed it from the front door as I walked into the house this afternoon, but I had zero memory of doing such a thing.  I stared at it blankly for a moment.  I don't exactly have the best memory in the world, so I took Eric's word for it.

After all, what else could explain its presence in our house?  Unless...

"Eric!  What if there's a religious fanatic hiding somewhere in our house secretly leaving us pamphlets about the pending apocalypse?!?"  I blurted out.  And then, "Man, why do they always have to talk about Doomsday?  I don't want to see that.  Why can't they sneak in to leave us pamphlets about love and understanding?"

Eric didn't respond as he flipped curiously through the magazine.  He grinned.  "There's an article called 'What Can I Expect From Marriage?" he offered.  

I sighed heavily and headed up the stairs, "In your case I think it's one long headache."

The possibility of there being a religious fanatic hiding in our house was pretty much forgotten, but while I gave Madeline her bath, I had Eric check the closets for any stray Jehovah's Witnesses just in case.

Fast forward about an hour.  I sat down to my computer, ready to check my email, when a loud rumbling echoed through the house, shaking the desk in front of me.    

Being the completely rational human being that I am, my first thought was:  "Dear God, it's the Jehovah's Witness!  He's running through the dining room!"

I leaped from my chair like a mother jungle cat on the prowl, ready to go Doomsday on that tie-wearing thug, but something was not right.  The house was still shaking, but there was nobody there.  I froze in the kitchen, watching the dishes in the sink clang against one another loudly until the rumbling lessened and then ceased.

Many thoughts went through my head at once.  Was there an explosion in the neighborhood?  Are the plows out?  Is a giant sinkhole about to swallow us up?  Wait, was that an earthquake?

I immediately called Eric, who had already left the house for a rehearsal.  "Summer, it was probably just a train going by," he rationalized.

I tried to explain that this was a much bigger rumbling, and that I thought it was an earthquake.  Since we live in Massachusetts where earthquakes are very uncommon, and since Eric didn't feel anything strange where he was, and since the last thing I asked him to do before leaving the house was to check for religious fanatics hiding in our closets, Eric didn't believe me.  

Well, I was right.  It was an earthquake.  My parents called me two second later to ask if we had felt it too.  Four point five, baby...out of Maine.

Which leaves me wondering:  What if the pamphlet is right?  The zombie apocalypse is nigh, folks.  Watch for evidence during tonight's presidential debate. Take cover.  

Dear Madeline: October, 2012

Dear Madeline,

      Well, my dearest daughter, you have been two for just over a month now, and all I can say is, "Wow!"  If I didn't know better, I'd think daycare was offering you a secret course entitled:  The Terrible Twos:  How to Live Up to the Hype.   Cause, honey?  You have become an absolute stereotype.

The other day I spent twenty minutes trying to figure out how to get you to leave the house so we could go do some much needed errands.  You wouldn't put your shoes on.   You flailed about like a jellyfish whenever I tried to force them on you, cried and ran away when I raised my voice, laughed during time-out, and happily continued playing in your potty (that's right I said "in" your potty) when I tried ignoring you.  At one point, you even took your pants off in further protest over leaving the house.  If it hadn't been so cold out, I probably would have just carried you out to the car by your ankles whether you had pants on our not.

Eventually I had to act the fool to get you to cooperate.

"Madeline?  Madeline?  Is this how I wear my shoes?"  I asked as I attempted to put your baby-sized sneakers on my grownup feet.  You giggled and showed me the right way on your own feet.  Then I had to feign stupidity again to get your to put on your jacket.  I think I even pretended to walk into a wall.  Simply put, my darling, you've turned your mother into a jackass.

Yet, when we got to the store, you were an angel.  At the register, you set your sights on the candy bars and proceeded to take each kind off the shelves, one at a time, to ask me what they were.

I quickly scolded, "No-no, Madeline.  Those aren't for you," before turning my attention back to the cashier.

Before I knew what was what, you simply put the Snickers back, repeated, "That not for Madeline," and held my hand.

A lady standing next to us was very impressed.  "What a good girl!"  she exclaimed.  "So well-behaved."

"Yes, she is!" I beamed back.  She didn't have to know the truth.

Of course, you're not all bad.  You still have your moments of pure sweetness.  You tell us you love us all the time.  You constantly want to cuddle and play with us.  This afternoon you sat on my lap after school and said, "I missed you, Mumma."  Heart.  Melt.

Sometimes I think it must be very hard being two.  You want to be so independent, and yet, you have very little control over your own life.  I'm trying hard to balance understanding with discipline.  I want to  acknowledge that you're feeling sad or frustrated, but I also want you to do the right thing.  It's a real juggling act.

Meanwhile, we had your two-year physical a few weeks ago, and you were a chap through the whole thing.  You cried and screamed when the nurse tried to weigh and measure you, but you didn't make a peep when they pricked your finger for the blood test.  You watched the blood dripping from your finger with devout fascination from the safety of your father's lap.  You were a good girl for the doctor, and opened your mouth wide just like we practiced.  You cried after your shot, but shots sometimes make me cry too.  It wasn't so bad.  In fact, you keep telling me that you want to go back to the doctor. Ummm, what?  

The doctor was impressed by how vocal you are.  You string whole sentences together pretty well these days.  We can carry on full, albeit simple, conversations with you now.  When the doctor asked you if you needed help opening your book, you simply replied, "No, I got it."  Yes, you're two going on thirteen, Maddie Bear.

I'm looking forward to Halloween with you this year.  You're starting to pay attention to seasonal changes and holidays.  I don't think you fully get what's going on yet, but at least you know something unusual is happening.  Plus, you're going to look ridiculously adorable in your costume. If I can convince you to wear it, that is...

I love you, my little hell raiser.  You keep life fresh and interesting.

Love Always,
Mumma

While Dada's Away...

...Mumma realizes she is an unfit parent.

Eric attended his twentieth high school reunion back in New York this weekend, which not only means he's old, but also means Madeline and I had a Mumma-Daughter weekend together.

It started off rocky.  Mere minutes after Eric left, we were playing in the yard, enjoying a beautiful Autumn afternoon, when Madeline decided it would be a good idea to snack on some Lily of the Valley berries sprouting around the perimeter of our yard.  Lily of the Valley berries are poisonous.  

The little stinker slowly held the red berry up to her face, raised one eyebrow at me in a wicked little grin, and just as I cried, "Madeline, nooooo!" popped the thing between her lips.  I rushed over and fished my finger around in her mouth as she mischievously giggled.  Apparently, Madeline finds it hysterical to scare the bejesus out of her poor, dear Mumma.  I'm assuming she swallowed the berry because there was no sign of it left in her mouth.  

After poison control assured me that one single berry was probably not going to do my daughter in,  I started to breath again.  Next weekend, I'll probably have Eric mow those berries down.  Either that or I'll start keeping Madeline on a leash.  Actually, a leash would probably solve a lot of our problems...  

Shortly after the berry incident, I decided to try to wear Madeline out with a walk around the block.  Immediately after closing the door behind me, I realized I had left my keys on the kitchen table.

Not even an hour after Eric left us, I had not only nearly poisoned my child...but now we were on the brink of homelessness.  Bwomp, bwomp.  At this point I started seriously questioning my suitability as a parent.

Not surprisingly, I lock myself out of the house a lot, so we leave a spare with a neighbor.  They were home.  Phew.  

Luckily, the rest of the weekend went pretty smoothly other than the regular day-to-day Maddie wrastling that we've become accustomed to.  Did you know, even if it's cold enough to warrant wearing sweatpants, a sweatshirt, socks, and a camo-print snuggy, Madeline still insists on going sans socks or pants?  When I say we are experienced Maddie wrastlers, I'm not just trying to be funny.  I quite literally wrestle clothing on her sometimes.  I'm bigger, but she's scrappy.

The weekend wasn't all bad though.  In fact, it was mostly good.  We did a fall-themed art project, played in the yard some more, (on a leash of course) met Mimi and Bob for lunch, read books, and watched UP.

Even though I enjoyed some mother-daughter alone time, I think Madeline and I were both very happy to see Eric walk in the door this afternoon.  Although, Madeline sometimes shows her happiness in odd ways.  Like crying for twenty minutes straight and mumbling incoherent objections toward her miserable existence when Eric takes her pacifier away.  But I guess that one is also my fault because I let her use it most of the morning even though it was not night-night time.  Sorry, Eric.  

Move Over John Madden...

Because it looks like there's some new competition in the form of a little girl in pigtails.

Madeline has had an inexplicable fascination with football since she was just a wee tater tot.  We used to think she was drawn to the bright colors, but now that she's older, it seems that she just really likes watching football.

During the Pats versus Seahawks game this afternoon, Maddie Bear provided us with the following running commentary:

"They walking! They running! They fall down!  Hahaha. (Fists up in the air.) Hoo-ray!!!"
(Turning around to face us) Hooray, Dada?
Eric: Hoo-ray!
Madeline: Hooray, Mumma?
Me: Hoo-ray!

"They playing football in a castle! They standing. They fall downnnn.  Bwahaha.  They running.  Ooops.  Drop the ball."

I think she's up there with the best.

What We've Been Up To...

This long Columbus Day weekend, (or Viking Weekend, as my step dad likes to call it since they did get here first, after all) we...

Took laundry basket baths with all our furry friends...

 ate our weight in sugar by 11 am....

discovered new playgrounds...

walked along the harbor...

discovered how to leave surprise photographs on Mumma's phone...

successfully potty trained this baby (but not the real baby yet)...

took sewing lessons from Mimi...

so that I could start work on Madeline's Halloween costume (here's a sneak peek)...

 And we crawled, rolled, and spun through tunnels! (Even Mimi took a turn)

I also ate some pumpkin cheesecake with Amy, but I don't have any pictures of that because I ate it all.  Nom, nom, nom.  

Hope you had as much fun this weekend as we did!