“Just one more ‘cuz you love me?”

Livia’s in the living room, asking for one more Hershey’s Kiss. Awhile back she would ask me for treats because she used the toilet correctly or did something good. I wanted her to know that I was giving her something delicious or special just because I loved her. See where that leads? Now she’s got me pegged!

Uttered in one let out breath: “I love my neighbors.”

While working furiously at her keyboard this morning: “Mom, I typing fast… like my big Jason!”

So many puddles, so little time…

When I first became a mother, I considered myself a homemaker because I didn’t like the sound of “stay-at-home mom” and I was truly making the home each day. Sometime during the last three years, I’ve switched to using the SAHM terminology. The reason I’m home full-time is because I want to be here with Livia, ’nuff said. Some days I want to run for the hills and desperately long for time to myself, but still, when the longterm goal is remembered, I’m glad I’m a SAHM.

Sometimes, even after 3.5 years, I’m surprised at the tasks assigned to this job. They aren’t easy to distinguish at times (Do I discipline for that behavior or does she really just need a PB&J?) and sometimes I feel all creative thinking has vanished from my mind and the only thing left to do is pop in a DVD.

Yesterday I fulfilled one of my duties by taking a walk with my little monkey Boots. I make a good Dora, if I do say so myself. Boots likes puddles of all shapes and sizes, the muddier the better. And only once have I had to rescue Boots from the murky depths of a particularly boggy puddle. In the pic above Dora and Boots were exploring the old Zion lot where puddles abound.

Livia and Strawberry at the U

“That the boy from the university! I know him!”

This was Liv’s observation upon seeing Buzz Lightyear in Toy Story this morning. Livia and I have been going to UNL for a few months now so that she can take part in a study on three year olds and spatial memory. One of the “games” she plays incorporates Buzz Lightyear in an attempt to make the study more fun for preschoolers. In the interest of full disclosure, Liv gets rewarded for being a lab rat and I get rewarded for hauling her in to be a lab rat. It’s been a really interesting experience–both the study and intermingling with university students. Truly, it’s a lesson in hilarity to walk hand-in-hand with an excited three year old through the throngs of tres cool 18-22 year olds. Liv almost always yells something that turns my cheeks pink.

After our last visit we ran into a man I presume was a psychology professor. He listened to Livia’s exclamations about her reward (a baby boy she promptly named Strawberry) and then thanked her for being data. Heh.

Pushing my shopping cart outside of Target this morning, I hit a few big bumps, jostled some very hot Starbucks Christmas Blend all over my purse and gloves, and yelled something to the tune of, “Oh crap! The coffee!”

Pause.

“Cap?” my little pitcher asked.

“Mmm, the coffee cap–you know, the lid?–came off.” My brain was so frazzled that my deceptive explanation actually made sense at the time. Only now that I’m typing it out I realize that the “caps” didn’t come off; coffee just blasted through the drink openings.

After we were settled in the car, with the heater cranked up, I heard Livia quietly explain some other cussing options from her carseat, “You could say ‘Oh stupid!’ or ‘Boogers!'”

Was it the fish food-covered poop in the bathroom? (Don’t ask.)

Or was it the chocolate-scented chapstick applied to the Christmas tree? (“I’m just pretending, Mom!”)

Perhaps it was the “talk to the hand” gesture sent in my direction not once, but twice at the dinner table. (She truly didn’t understand what she was doing with that one.)

Or maybe it was the umpteenth time in a day where I cleaned up spilled water.

Whatever it was, I am a tired mama tonight. Where’s a little Bailey’s when a girl needs it?

Monday it was toasty warm outside and I believe a new record high temperature was set.

Wednesday it snowed. And my daughter played. I admit I prefer to watch her play during the toasty warm rather than freezing cold; I’m a lam-o adult that way. What I love about kids is that they just don’t care how cold it is when snow is present. Within two seconds of getting out, Liv was all over that snowfall, and made beautiful snow angels like they were going out of style.

I’m crazy about this kid.

I was waiting for Livia to turn 28 years old or so before saying what she said last Friday night. We were walking to the car after enjoying an evening of delicious Japanese food and My Neighbor Totoro with friends when Livia dropped it on me:

“You’re a good mommy.”

My heart about stopped. I almost fell over on the sidewalk before pulling myself together. “Oh yeah? Why do you say that?”

“You teach children to obey!”

My thoughts then ran from Huh! to Who is this child? to Awwww… my sweet girl.