That's What I Get For Thinking

I'm a planner.  A type-A planner.  I like spontaneity, so long as the other person in the mix has taken care of all the other stuff.  N is constantly telling me I need to relax.  Usually all I hear is "blah blah blah" because I'm busy cleaning or planning.

One thing we're in the process of planning is upgrading Zoe's room to a toddler room.  Gone are the days of the crib and changing table.  This girl is potty trained and ready for a real bed.  How do I know she's ready?  She mentions a big girl bed 752 times a day.  Then comes the "can I, can I?"

I found some really cute bedding at Pottery Barn Kids that I just couldn't live without.  Then my planner mind started working.  If we did the toddler bed and Zoe got sick, it would be really hard to put her to bed because I couldn't hold her like she likes.  If we did the toddler bed and she just wouldn't fall asleep, I couldn't lay in the bed with her because let's face it, I'm not toddler size.

What sealed the deal was my lack of understanding with the whole toddler bed thing.  The rail that turns our crib into a toddler bed was $100 before taxes and before shipping.  In my planner mind, if we just spent another hundred or so we could have a new twin bed that could carry her much farther before needing something new.  Not to mention the twin bedding is SO.MUCH.CUTER than the toddler bed size. 

Then the question becomes how do you pay for a total room makeover?  Actually that's more N's question.  He knows when I start to plan, it means that some money will be spent. 

You sell your old stuff.  I posted some things to Craigslist this weekend.  Because I have no idea if my items would sell, I figured I'd give myself a week before the new bed came and see what kind of interest the baby stuff would generate.

Yeah, it all sold in 4 hours.

All of it.

Like Zoe no longer has a quilt and I need to convince the people that want the crib that if they can wait until Saturday we'll deliver.  Because my daughter is still sleeping in it.

That's what I get for thinking my plan will work out.  God has a way of teaching me that planning means nothing.  He's the only planner.  I think he likes to watch me sweat a little when I try to over plan.

Like when I'm trying to figure out where Zoe will sleep for another week.

Tutu Cute

Last night Zoe insisted on wearing her Angelina Ballerina jammies.  They're not really Angelina jammies, but they do have ballet dancers and ballet shoes all over it.  Plus it's pink.

To make the outfit more authentic, she insisted on adding an actual tutu with it while she brushed her teeth.

I'm Now The Child

Last night I was getting Zoe ready for bed.  Typically we put on an overnight diaper, some jammies and then brush our teeth. 

Last night was different.  After Zoe got all ready and before she brushed her teeth, she said, "mommy, I need to change your diaper."

Really?  Why?

Because you're poopy. 

I had no idea.  I think I'm good.

No, you're poopy.  I need to change you.  I'll be right back.

What are you getting?

A diaper, some wipies and some aquafor.

I really think I'm okay sweetie.

Just lay down mommy!

She proceeded to change me by lifting up my shirt, pretending to clean it and put some aquafor on it and then laid the Easy Up on my tummy.

I think this diaper is too little.

We're Like The Village People, But With Girls

For Christmas Grammie and Grandpa bought D & E gym bags.  Our plan has always been to join the new YMCA-YWCA facility as a family.  In an effort to get the older girls set for this, they equipped them with gym bags, workout clothes and water bottles.  Since Christmas the girls have been itching to use them.

Saturday came their chance.  We bought them new swimsuits and got them ready to go.  D insisted that she bring along a couple good books because she may get tired of swimming and just want to read. 

The YMCA isn't a Beaches Resort in Turks and Caicos, so the books were out.  She just needed clothes to change into and a towel.

All our girls are fish.  The love to splash, swim, jump, dive, practice handstands and not come out of the water until the absolute last second.  To say they had a good time wouldn't do the day justice.  It was the best Saturday afternoon E.V.E.R! 

D & E each found a friend to play with too.  While they went and played, N and I took turns between watching Zoe and sitting in the hot tub.

That was until Zoe wanted me to take her swimming and she started shouting "mommy" so it echoed in the gigantic gym.

I Hope She Doesn't Know The Real Meaning of Lucifer

So Zoe and I were watching Cinderella last night. It's our favorite movie.  We both sing all the songs and cover our eyes when Gus is carrying the key up to Cinderella's room and Lucifer the cat stops him.  It's one of my favorite movies of all time and I'm thrilled to share it with Zoe. 

One of the things we do when we're playing is ask each other who they'll be in the story or movie in this case.  I asked Zoe, "who are you?"

Cinderella!

Who is mommy?

Lucifer.

Someone told me last week that the independent stage is a preview of the hormonal teen years.  I sincerely hope this is the only time I'll be referred to as Lucifer.

N Spells Love

I'm the extrovert, social butterfly of my marriage.  N is the homebody who will be social when I make him.  Don't read that as he can't be social, he's very charming, but it's not his comfort zone.  He likes being home.  Being around his stuff, not having to put on fancy clothes or put on his game face. 

I like being out.  Home is good, but not all the time.  I like having a full calendar, I like being around people and being involved in a variety of activities. 

N and I balance each other out. 

Sometimes that balance gets out of whack and it's usually a result of my expectations not being realistic.  I can tend to put social demands on N.  He's gone from the house 18.5 hours a day Monday thru Thursday.  On the weekends he just wants to hole up at home, put on some sweat pants and be. 

I'm ready to do things as a family.  We need to go swimming, take Zoe to the preschool carnival and go go go.  He just wants to be home.

We had a little tiff this weekend because of my expectations and his needs.  Zoe and I went off to the carnival, while N stayed home.  I was sad that he would miss out on our time together. 

When I got home, he had my Valentine's day present.  He had spent the entire morning cleaning our house.  We're not talking just picking up, we're talking spring cleaning.  Everything was dusted and shiny.  The house smelled clean.  Papers had been sorted and dealt with.  The house looked new. 

I felt horrible.  My present was a clean house so I could relax the rest of the weekend and my present to him was a guilt trip.

I'm not entirely sure how I deserve the love of a man who just loves me because I'm me.  Someone who is willing to do amazing things for me, even though I don't allow him to be him.  It's a love that I cannot comprehend, yet am so grateful for. 

Thank you N for being my Valentine, my partner and my teacher.  I learn more and more from you each day.  I thank God that He gave me you to traverse this life with.  Heaps and hords my love.

Sending a Shout Out

Happy Valentine's Day!  Hope your day is as fabulous as those glasses.