life with B

Part One:  Mama and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Afternoon

after a glorious wednesday morning leading 20 crazy 4th graders on a downtown walking tour of Mobile (my placement with the Junior League - LOVE IT!!), I picked Bennett up from La's and headed to the grocery store.  all good so far.

being that it is now february and love is all up in the air around here, i decide to make some valentines sugar cookies, frosted of course.  oh yeah, and homemade spaghetti for dinner (one of my favorites [to cook]).

sugar cookie dough - check

white cream cheese icing - check

noodles - check

tomatoes, mushrooms, fresh basil, oregano - check

french bread - check

cookie cutters? nope

red food coloring? nope

ahh no biggie

we head home happy and joyful and normal-day-like.  bennett decides he doesn't need an afternoon nap and decides it is fun to drop throw all his pacis and blankies out of the crib, wait ten or so minutes, then scream bloody murder and watch mama come in two, three, now FOUR times to retrieve them.  the fifth time the child won and naptime is over and time to play.  (let me preface with the fact that sleepy bennett=clumsy bennett).  bennett slips over himself? his toe? air? and falls head first into the coffee table in his playroom.

exhibit A

now this is bennett's first real boo boo or bo bo or however you pronounce it.  i guess in essence it was mama's, too.  i decide this is the perfect time to start my sugar cookies.  bennett handles his wound like the champ he is, but as i was feeling bad for him, i give him a couple teeny tiny tastes of the raw cookie dough.  i know i am terrible.  but i thought it was delicious and he did too.

so i was baking yummy cookies.  trying my darnedest to shape them like hearts.  i made sure they were thin enough, overly dramatized hearts (since i knew they would expand in the oven).  i even cut tiny little cookies for bennett to have later.  pop those bad boys in the oven and start working on my spaghetti sauce.  

meanwhile, sleepy bennett trips over the air? foot? floor? and falls face first into a corner of the wall.  wailing and blood follows.  teeth and tongue are checked.  all is well.  snacks are had.  as is milk. happy bennett with swollen eye and lip.  (no picture)

cookies removed early from oven, bc i like them that way (not crispy).  hearts look like swollen triangles.  *sigh*

while removing squishy dough-y cookies from pan, mama burns her pointer finger.  tiny burn, big ouchie.  i pity myself for two seconds and am interrupted by aforementioned snack and milk being slung around the kitchen in similar manner as one would feed bread to ducks.

mess cleaned, disaster averted.

after cooling off, it is realized that all said cookies are fried.  crispy to a fault.

yes that is a "heart." no comments, please

bennett finishes what is left of snack and proceeds to cling to whichever leg he deems clingy-est, limiting mama's range of motion to zero.  we read books and tomato sauce simmers.  mama empties dish washer, loads dishwasher, shoots evil glances at sugar cookies, nurses her burned finger, and shuffles bennett around the kitchen.

a cabinet opens, closes, and another christmas lucite glass bites the dust.  mess is cleaned.  another cabinet opens, closes, and cookbooks and papers conquer all once-available foot space.  mess is cleaned.  'honey-do' item number "put remaining child locks on cabinets" now moves up to threat level RED.  spaghetti simmers.

daddy comes come to a hungry bennett (again? didnt we just eat? nevermind that was 2.5 hours ago) that mama decided to feed at 5:40 instead of the usual "6pm or later." 

bennett is bathed and put to bed.  he is super cute when he goes to bed.

spaghetti is delicious.  mama is happy.  mama is excited to eat said spaghetti for lunch tomorrow, too.  mama forgets to turn off the eye on the cooktop and burns spaghetti to a black crusty you-just-try-and-get-me-off-this-pan mess.  mama's finger hurts when she washes dishes.  mama goes to sleep and looks forward to thursday.

Part Two:  The Part where Bennett reminds Mama how lucky she is to be his mama

we spend the next few days taking frequent stops from play to go find mama, get her to pick us up, and then proceed to give her the biggest hugs imaginable.  then we squirm to get down, and proceed with our playing.

its the little things.

and ill take a million part ones if it means i get 5 seconds of part two.