Pink Sunshine

Dear Curly,

This morning you were such a little weasel! A curly headed, mischievious little monkey that gave me a genuine run for my money. You bossed and whined and demanded by turns. I tried to remember you're two. You woke Louie from her nap. And I counted to ten. You snatched things and ran, laughing like an evil genius. And I took a deep breath. You dumped an entire glass of milk on the floor and gleefully splashed in the puddle. And I prayed for patience. You intentionally clawed your sister and punched me in the nose. And we both took a time out.
Somehow or other, we made it till lunch time. It was a marathon of running up the downhill escalator. But food was consumed and carpet survived. Baby Lou went for her nap in the bassinet and you were read two stories. Then sung one song. And do you know which tune you emphatically requested today? Pink Sunshine: You're my pink sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray.....
No melody could fit you better. In spite of the fact that you were an absolute maniac today, pink sunshine is exactly what you are. An impish little ray of rose colored light. Charming, and occasionally impossible to tame. You wreaked havoc on my to do list this morning. No matter, housekeeping never was my forte anyway. And laundry will always wait. Right now you've gone and made me smile in spite of myself. So sweet dreams, you beautiful little stink-pot. I love you.
Love,

Mommy

The Giggles

I'm climbing out of my annual winter funk. The after-holiday, gray, fat, and exhausted, all-I-wanna-do-is-dig-in-and-hibernate sticky mood that is just a frigid fact of January. For me. Usually. But I seem to be thawing a little earlier this year; my energy level has experienced a bit of a burst that just needs constant fueling to maintain. I'm seeing the light and I'm ready to say enough with the funk already! I've relieved the TV of babysitting duty, gotten dressed nearly every day this week, and even spent this morning playing kitchen and pink play-dough with Curly and her blonde and blue-eyed cousin, the one and only "Good-Job-Bob"bette. This has got to be some kind of record; it all started with an attack of the giggles.
You know those giggle fits that strike unexpectedly? That leave you breathless and utterly refreshed? Little Lou had her first one in the church parking lot Tuesday night. Bedtime, frozen darkness, time to go home. I'm settling the little chunk of chub into her car-seat when she graciously filled her drawers......Nice. Then she beamed at me. Unbelievably pleased. Which made me smile as I got her all bundled up in her lady-bug softy and transferred her to the front seat, to attempt a somewhat up-side-down diaper change while crouched between shotgun and the glove box. I smirked and squished myself into position while her little eyes gleamed with amusement. Oh my, she wiggled a whole bunch. Apparently this was a game. Chee-ky. All the same, I still cringed as I reached for the little monkey's diaper tab after wrestling her into place. My fingertips were icicles! But I did it, and instead of a cry, or a squirm, she responded with a perfect laugh. Melodic and sincere. I laughed back. And the atmosphere changed. I got a moment with my little honey-bug that came pre-photo-shopped. A small little spotlight of warmth for just the two of us. Chuckles in razor clarity. Everything else in shadow or soft focus. Our giggles triggered more, then more, feeding on each other, impeding but outlasting the business at hand. Then I surrendered my funk to a blessing. I took some advise from a baby. And remembered to thank heavens for the gift of the giggles.