And Baby Makes Three

Opposites Unknown

My daughter knows the word "love".  She doesn't know the word "hate".
She knows the word "pretty," but doesn't know "ugly".
I wish it could always be so.

A Perfect Day

I was thinking about this last night.  At this exact point in my life, without leaving town, without out-of-town friends or family visiting, how would I choose to spend a perfect day?

I'd wake up and get out of bed when I was no longer tired.  My husband would have gotten up with my daughter, fed her breakfast, and cleaned up the kitchen.  I'd pad out to the living room in my jammies and kiss them both.  Then I'd eat something lovely for breakfast. . . let's see. . . a strawberry banana smoothie along with a turkey bacon and swiss on whole wheat.  I'd check my email, play with some digital photos, post some to Flickr or my photo blog.  (During this leisurely time, my daughter would be content to play with her toys or color.)  I'd join husband and daughter for a family cuddle/tickle session with lots of kisses and giggles.  Then I'd take a book back to bed and read until lunchtime.  We'd all eat lunch together and then my daughter would take a long nap in her crib.  My husband and I might work out in the yard together and talk.  Then he would take my daughter to the playground and I would have the house to myself. I'd putter in this room and that, having the ability to open all the doors and cupboards if needed without worrying about G's safety (or what she'd decide to do with various objects!).  I might call my sisters and my two closest female friends to catch up.  We'd go out to eat an early dinner, so I wouldn't have to cook.  We'd play in the yard with G. and after her bath and story time, she'd go to bed without complaint.  Husband and I would relax together and watch a movie and enjoy a decadent dessert.

Yes, this is a dream!

See, I don't want darling husband and daughter to just leave me for a whole day.  I want to be near them, but have some freedom to just do what I want, just for one day. Or, you know, every Saturday.  :-)

One Hundred Six Pounds

Confession: We own a television and sometimes my daughter watches it.  I feel as if I should be wearing dark glasses and using a device to disguise my voice as I type this. 

I credit Sesame Street for my little girl's expanding vocabulary and knowledge of the world.  I have no qualms about PBS programming.  What I have to be careful of are the things I might have on for a few minutes in the evening before she goes to bed. 

I watched that "reality" show called The Biggest Loser -- if you haven't seen it, families or couples or groups of friends compete against another team to see who can lose the most weight.  The name of the show is regrettable and the episodes themselves are padded with a lot of dramatic music and commercials, but the concept of changing your lifestyle through diet and exercise to achieve better health is a good one.  Anyway, my daughter saw part of this show.  A big deal is made out of the weigh-ins.  The people are weighed on a gigantic scale and much emotion is shown about the weight lost. 

My little girl now stands on the scale in our bathroom and announces, "One hundred six pounds!"  What she picked up from the show is that what you weigh is a big deal.  Ouch.  I think I'll do my best to keep the TV off in the evening until she's older so I can explain things to her.  Not that one's weight isn't important for good health, but the last thing I want to imprint on my tiny daughter is any kind of obsession in that arena.