I forgot all about Flashback Friday again. Shame on me. But that's what I get for enjoying a few hours "out on the town" (Mom's Nights Out rock!). I come home exhausted, and unaware of what day of the week I'm on. To be fair, I didn't have remotely enough energy left upon my arrival home to sort through and edit all of the pictures I would have needed for the post, though I would have felt compelled to.
Making mental note now: must plan post ahead-of-time when it coincides with next outing. Now comes the deafening internal laughter that rings through my head. As if my life is anywhere near a state of organization that might make that a (predictable) possibility. Because I've had some glorious days where the kids are great, and Tom has bunches of free time, and the planets align, and I actually have some moments during the day to "do my thing". But those occurrences are few-and-far-between, and I never see them coming.
You know what else I never saw coming? Having a daughter who now speaks eloquently enough that I should really take the time to pay attention to exactly what she is saying. Like this morning, when I let a good minute go by as I rushed around trying to pack some last-minute items for our overnight stay with Mima and Granda, even though Abby was cryptically chanting, "Eat the sock."
I mean, come on. She can't really eat a sock, and I didn't put one in her breakfast bowl or anything. But, I did put socks on her before I sat her down. That one, solitary, clean and matching pair that I could find in my desperate searching through her crazily scattered wardrobe. (All of this was part of my Grand Master Plan to whip her straight out of that booster seat, throw some sneakers on her, and strap her into the van as soon as it was loaded up.) And I suppose it's possible that she could be...
I stopped what I was doing and ran into the dining room, to find my little troublemaker sucking on the toes of her sock. She'd been sucking and chewing- one might say, eating- the thing for so long that it was now soaking wet, and I couldn't possibly leave it on her foot in that state.
Thus began the search for a fresh pair of socks that I wasn't even sure existed, but I managed to procure in the end. These I made sure to keep out of her reach until I was prepared to put both socks and shoes on her adorable little feet.
As for my Grand Master Plan: it didn't take account of the possibility that Michael might actually fit in a good, long nap this morning, so once everything was prepped and ready, Abby and I spent a good deal of time sitting around in the living room, waiting for Sleeping Beauty to rise.
But we did arrive at Mima and Granda's in due time, where we spent the day hanging out with Uncle Kit in celebration of his recent birthday, and taking advantage of the extra help and company while Tom is away in Atlantic City for his cousin's bachelor party.
We had our fair share of baby antics here, as well. And from an unlikely source.
This time, it was Michael who started the commotion, by ripping apart a half-package of diapers. Of course, before I could record Michael's little victory, Abby saw me lining up the shot and had to jump in and take some credit, too.
The ambient light was pretty dark, and I didn't have a lot of time to mess with camera settings, so the pictures aren't the clearest or the best. But these kids move fast. By the time I pressed the shutter button down for a second shot, Abby had scattered most of the diapers that Michael pulled loose.
She then proceeded to liberate the few that remained in what was left of the plastic wrapper.
And now, an aerial view of the destruction. Is that guilt I see on my baby girl's face?
Nah, I'm sure she was just busily plotting her next move.