Day in the Life

I wrote out a to-do list today:

Finish packing
Wipe down kitchen and dining surfaces
Vacuum first floor
Put away anything mice might find enticing
Take trash out
Tidy up the packing pandemoniumFinish hemming a shirt I started making last week
Clean out fridge
Use up salad materials for lunch
Defrost something for dinner

When I had one kid, this seemed like a reasonable to-do list. With two, especially as one is still super young and clingy, this is mostly just a pipe dream and/or what I ask Man to do when I collapse onto the couch upon his arrival home from work.

Because here, folks, is the list of things I've actually accomplished this morning:

Ergoed baby
Not killed toddler
Drank a cup of room temp coffee
Ate granola bar (shared with toddler)

But hey, everyone is still alive and there is both coffee and carbs in my body, so let's just call it a win. And now for cute pictures so I can pretend my kids are sweet.

My toddler is apparently an avid reader. Either that or it's the only time she sits still long enough for me to get a photo.

Also, it snowed last week.

Finally Four

So, we added a little potato to our family last month.

My parents, in unplanned perfection, arrived at our house the night before we went into labor. Man spent only the first night with me and then came and went so he could bring my parents and the Otter to visit.

But he (and the Otter) would never leave me completely alone. One of the beloved (and populous) Bunnies kept me and the newest addition company.

There were lots of provisions, too. I asked for a brownie, received a tray. Plus extras. I am loved for sure.

Upon meeting her baby sister and saying "Good morning, Mommy," the Otter spied my pancake breakfast. And promptly helped me finish it. Toddlers.

Finally satiated, the now bored two year old requested to hold her baby sister.

And again.

She even tried taking the new grandbaby from Grandma. Thankfully there was still some pancake left to distract her.

Love in the Air

Our Ladybug has begun stringing sentences together much to our amusement and delight. One of her new favorites is "I love you. I love you, too" which is usually uttered as she runs toward you with arms wide open.

It never fails to dim the burdens of the day.

Her love, however, knows no bounds.

She is following in the footsteps of her mom and grandma. "Chocolate! Yesss! I love chocolate!" Her toys are on par with her family members. "I love Mommy. I love Daddy. I love baby sister. I love Hippo."  As are other inanimate objects. "I love Grandma. I love Grandpa. I love Mommy. I love chair."

To which, of course, I had to ask if she loved lamp, too. And yes, she obliviously answered, "I love lamp."

Once was lost..

Those of you who have met our daughter in person will recognize this fellow:

Only you won't have seen this particular bunny in over a year. Two Christmases ago, we were shopping with Grandma and Grandpa down in South Philly. We wandered Target and then Marshalls before realizing that we had lost this precious cargo.

We sent troops in to both stores to scour the floors for the missing Bunny, but to no avail.  We spoke with managers and left our number, but never heard back. Thankfully we had been cautioned by friends through horror stories of lost lovies and had already purchased Bunny2, so the crisis ended as soon as we got home and our daughter was reunited with her other Bunny.  We soon purchased Bunny3 and once again had two beloved plushies in circulation.  We even purchased a fourth Bunny when we discovered they were discontinuing this particular plushie.

One year later and I found myself in the same shopping plaza with my mom once again.  While I was searching for toddler socks, Grandma was glancing at the clearance rack. Lo and behold, she spied a familiar face.

Yes. That Bunny has been sitting on a shelf in Marshalls for over a year.  Needless to say, with a glance at one photo of us with his twin, they let us take the dirty well loved stuffed toy home free of charge.

Also, GROSS. I foresee a few wash cycles in someone's future.