Bean Scissorhands


This morning while we were all still cozy in bed, Sweety and Bean scratched my back for me. It was nice.

Sweety left and as I had my faced all soaped up over the sink, I heard Bean say, “Gonna scratch your back, Mama!” I thought that was so sweet. Until it felt like I was being clawed open. She was cackling maniacally as I tried to scoot away while staying close enough to the sink to rinse my face.

She had snatched these out of a drawer while I wasn’t looking. The soundtrack to this photo is Bean wailing, “My scratchers! I need my scratchers!”

Related: Bean learned how to scream, “What the hell?!” this morning.

Oh, hey! Since I’ve been here last? The Bean has potty-trained! Day and night! Panties for all! Yay! And she’s started giving herself the preliminary ass wipe along with a courtesy flush before I come in to tidy her up. She can be polite when the mood hits her.



Busted Grill


I have lots of things to tell you and show you that happened over the last month…Getting to meet and hang out with fabulous peeps! Bekah! (Who I saw a KICKASS showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show with. The photos I have, people.) Jeni! Sam! And a weekend with Amy‘s family!

But first? This.

Miss Minnie

We’ve been getting her used to the idea of wearing a costume on Halloween and this was the first day that I could wrestle her into it. She was fine with it once I got it on. Up until then she was screaming, “No dress! No dress!” She’s gotten to be really against wearing any kind of clothing since we spend much of our day running around here almost naked.

Not only is this an adorable photo – it is the last photo taken where she has all of her teeth in her little face the way that they’re supposed to be.

Helping

Less than two minutes after this photo was taken she face-planted on the floor while dancing wildly in a circle. I’d just told her to quit following Budhole around and picked her up and stood her in front of the pantry while Bud got cozy in his bed. I turned around to dig a pan out of the cabinet and heard her little feet smacking on the floor as she started dancing wildly in a circle and then I heard her scream. When I rolled her over I saw this white stuff splattered on her bottom lip. I thought she hit so hard that she puked a little. Flipped up her top lip to see the inside corner of her right tooth missing. I then realized that the “puke” I’d seen was actually tooth dust.

I was just telling someone a couple of weeks ago that one of my main goals was to get her to her adult teeth without breaking any of her baby teeth. It creeps me out to see kids with broken teeth. I think those jagged little teeth would be perfect to rip the flesh right off of somebody if they went the cannibalizing toddler route.



The Guilties


Do I ever have them.

48 hours from now I will be away from home without Bean. I feel awful. I know that Sweety does a fine job taking care of her and the other time I was away for a couple of days she was none the worse for wear. Something unexpected came up at Sweety’s work so he will be doing a little more than usual for the next few days. Bean will spend a lot of time next door. I know she’s fine there too. They love her to pieces and if she asks me once – she asks me a hundred times a day if she can go see Grandma or Papa. But what if she acts like a little shrieking terror with them and wears out her welcome? I’m sincerely hoping that she saves the best of her antics for me.

And I’m worried about bedtime. What if she wakes up screamy and he doesn’t get any good sleep and feels like total shit the next day? What if she wakes up screamy and he wakes up freaked out from it and sends her sailing onto the floor?

Like I should worry about the floor…when we visited my sister, she rolled off the bed and landed face first on the industrial tile floor. Nothing broken or bloody. I guess she has a tough head.

Speaking of that, I accidentally whacked it into the garage door yesterday. I was carrying her and I ducked to get under the door quicker as it was raising up but didn’t allow enough clearance for her. Gave her a little goose egg. To her credit, she didn’t cry a drop. I think she was too shocked that I’d just knocked the shit out of her.

Last week I asked her if she wanted to take something to the trash for me (she loves helping). She said yes but was being rather slow standing up to come to me. I told her to be quick! She put her hands on the floor and shoved herself up from the step she was sitting on. Her knees slipped out from under her and she face-planted on the wood floor. Busted her top lip. Blood everywhere. We went next door for a popsicle and she recovered nicely. Now when she takes her toys for strolls around the house, she points to the step and tells them to watch out for it.

Geez, after rereading the last few paragraphs…maybe she will enjoy a little break from me.



Grumpy Grumps


I’ve realized that getting a backache so bad that I puke and wish for death is generally accompanied with some sort of stress. Isn’t that great? My body says, “Hey! Let’s fuck with things so you feel crazy and throw a backache on it for good measure! Good day!” Yesterday and last night was one of those times.

I ended up leaving Bean in bed with Sweety while I went into her room alone with a barf bucket. Sweety said that she kept whispering, “Mama’s gone. Mama’s gone.” But she didn’t cry for me! I’m thinking maybe he could start sleeping with her as a means to wean her off of the night tit. I’m tired people. This grunion will be two next month. I’ve never gone so long without uninterrupted sleep.

Next week, I will be gone for approximately 60 hours to visit Bekah in Austin. Bean isn’t going. I plan on sleeping in for two mornings. I think it will be glorious. Or I will lie awake all guilt-ridden, thinking about Bean saying, “Mama’s gone.” on repeat.

I kind of thought (hoped?) that “The Terrible Twos” was a myth. Turns out? Not so much.

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Sometimes she just screams to scream. We’re working on curbing that.

For the record, I didn’t stand there and photo the whole tantrum. I thought I was taking one photo but the camera took several. I don’t know if that makes me less of a neglectful parent but I’d like to point it out.

And other times she’s a ton of fun.

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I LOVE seeing her figure stuff out. For the longest time, when I ask her to tell me the color of something, “blue” has been her standard answer. I was starting to wonder if she was colorblind. The other morning, she woke before me and got a book about colors and brought it into bed with us. I heard her, “That’s puuuuurple. That’s reeeeed. That’s yellow! That’s green!” I carefully peeked at what she was doing and she was correctly identifying all of the colors. I opened my eyes and asked her what color the sun was – Blue! I’ll quit worrying. I think her eyes work just fine.