Baby steps

We're at the playground on one of the first nice days we've had in what seems like forever, shaking off the fever, both cabin and viral, and slathering sunscreen. The bigger kids are playing make believe by the swings and climbing like monkeys on the aptly named bars. They're sliding down slides warmed by the sun and running through the slightly damp sandbox as fast as their coltish legs will carry them, golden locks trailing behind. CC looks on with longing, not quite satisfied with the mulch she's playing with, too small to run after her big sister. Too small to do pretty much anything within the confines of the fenced area. She doesn't like the feel of the sand on her bare legs today or the taste of it after she absentmindedly chews on a green plastic shovel, so she's crawled over to a shady spot under a tree where we sit and watch the glory unfold together. A small sigh escapes from her pink bow lips.

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The distance between the table leg and the drawer her sister is digging through is only about four feet but may as well be a mile. She holds on to the leg with one hand, the other willing the plastic containers and odd lid into her chubby fist, each colorful bowl like the Holy Grail. She lets go and takes one step, then two, then down on her diapered rump she falls. Instead of crawling to the drawer she crawls back to the table leg and tries again. This time she only makes one step before plopping down on the floor. Then again. And again. The most she manages is four steps before she gives up. Her sister, in a rare moment of kindness, brings her a purple rubber lid and a wooden spoon.

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She's getting the hang of this walking thing - Step, step, step, thump. Step, step, step, thump. She doesn't give up, she doesn't stay down - Step, step, step, thump. Step, step, step, thump.

I cheer quietly from behind her.

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From twenty feet away they spot me in the crowded airport and she tries in vain to wiggle free from her father's arms. He puts her down on the industrial carpet and through a sea of people busy rushing here and there she walks toward me, small arms waving wildly over her head like an orangutan, a big smile on her face because she knows she's accomplishing something amazing. It's hard not to notice the amused looks on the people's faces around us, the appreciative stares from older parents and the childless alike, but my eyes are on her while my heart threatens to burst with pride. I throw my arms wide to catch her as she propels toward me. I can barely keep the happy tears from pouring from my eyes. She is a wonder; a perfect, tiny human being with the zeal and moxie of someone ten times her size. She is ready to take on the world. She couldn't be more pleased with herself. I couldn't love her more if I tried.

Thoughts while wondering why Paul Potts singing Nessun Dorma makes me so happy

Yes, that guy. He makes me happy (the sappy Aerosmith song at the end of that clip, however, DOES NOT make me happy). If you laugh I'll slug you.

Try me.

The other day, my friend Jen was in a mood. I'm not going to say a bad mood or a sad mood, I'll leave it to her to decide what type of mood it was. But she was in need of reminding that good things still existed in this fecked up world.

I know how she's feeling.

I didn't read all the comments to that post because I didn't have the time (Time. Now that is a good thing that makes me happy) so I thought I'd make my own list here because I need to remind myself that there are people and experiences - and ice cream - that makes me happy. Happy begets happy. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Here's my list, feel free to add your own:

-Paul Potts (shaddup)
-Watching my cat napping peacefully in a sunbeam (OMG, gag. But true. She's doing it right now and she looks so freaking peaceful)
-A napping toddler
-Naps, in general
-A bottle of good red wine
-The wild boar over pasta in Tuscany (I think it was at Osteria del Cianghale Bianco. Service = eh. Food = really good. I can still taste it). Preferably with a bottle of good red wine.
-Foot rubs
-Being near the ocean
-Mint Oreo cookies
-This song (if there is such a thing as angels, they sound like Alison Krauss)
-Stepping on the scale and finding myself three pounds lighter than the last time I checked. Although, I can't remember the last time that happened.
-Ice cream. With jimmies.
-Puppies (Duh)
-This picture:


-New shoes. Not to be confused with Nu Shooz, they never did it for me.
-Cupcakes
-Bacon

There's many more but I'm having a hard time thinking right now. I'm sure I'll add more later.

After reviewing this list I've decided it's a lot like when you get a fortune cookie and you add "In bed" to the end of your fortune. In this case you can add "with a bottle of good red wine" to the end of pretty much all those items above. Except napping. I don't recommend napping with a bottle of good red wine. Maybe after but not during. That gets messy when you fall asleep and spill your wine.

Catch a falling star...

...and put it in your pocket. Never let it fade away.

Spring fever rears its lovely head

I feel like a fair weather blogger, in reverse. When the weather is crappy and I'll I want to do is hunker down on my couch with a cup of coffee and my laptop I find safe haven in the blogosphere. But on days like today, 80 degrees and blue skies, the last thing I want to do is slave over a computer writing pithy or verbose posts about... Well, I have no idea what about. That's the point. My head is elsewhere.

The weather affects my mood like crazy and today I am happy. Sublimely happy. I'm watching chickadees building nests in my rain gutters and I'm not worried one bit about how we're going to clean those out so the spouts don't get clogged. The brats kids next door are all still at school so the neighborhood is quiet and the sounds of small motorized vehicles don't break my concentration from the book I'm reading. Chicky and I can play outside with her new toys (procured from a very successful birthday party) and when I'm done playing she continues, she making tiny mud castles and covering herself with fine beach sand and me reading the before mentioned book. We ate lunch outside! Hurrah! Munching carrot sticks and nibbling on strawberries, I can close my eyes and pretend it's late June instead of late April. Tomorrow it's back to reality, but today it's heaven.



So you can see, while I should be doing a million and one things to get ready for my trip on Thursday I'm wasting my time daydreaming in the sun. No time for blogging here. So I hope you'll forgive my being a bad blog citizen. I'll be here, there and everywhere for the next week, but I won't be winning any blogger of the year awards.

(Speaking of awards, the lovely lady that is Oh, the Joys kindly nominated me for a couple of Blogger's Choice awards. Click on over there and vote for me if you are so inclined. Or don't. How can one care about such things when the warm sun is out?)

As for that pink buttercream frosted butterfly cake that I said in a recent post that I was going to be making this weekend, I had no idea how long that could take. Wow. I'm sure making frosting and decorating a cake is a lot of fun when you're not under the wire to get it completed in time. So, here's my first effort in cake making, such as it is.

This is how things come out when I work without a net.

Now that I know what I'm doing (snicker, guffaw, snort) if I'm ever called to task to make another "Wuttahfly" cake I'm sure it'll be prettier. But I make a mean buttercream frosting, if I do say so myself.




Chicky thought so, too. Which was praise enough for me.