The skies opened up and angels sang....

Daddy is back from London. And all is well in Monkey's world now.

Last night, she was tired and acting out at dinner. She scrounged around and found a tin of animal crackers, and then completely lost her sh*t when we only let her eat two of them.

Not only did she throw a fit that involved throwing herself to the floor behind the kitchen table (we were in the dining room, but I peeked in to see what she was up to...that is, despite wailing), but she so completely lost it she forgot to eat the second cookie. Talk about cutting off your nose to spite your face!

M was exhausted from getting up at 5:30am London time (that's like he woke at 12:30am our time...yikes) and flying home, so I gave Monkey a bath. Well, I tried....

Usually a bath calms Monkey down and makes her the happiest kid on the planet. But last night she was just not having it. I could barely get her to sit down, and washing her hair prompted wailing that deafened me.

And then, she started begging for Daddy. With her eyes red and swollen from crying, her face all blotchy from screaming, and her lip all a-tremble. So I called in reinforcements.

M walked into the bathroom and asked Monkey if she wanted Daddy to give her a bath.

And then, I swear to god, the skies opened up and angels sang....she was SO HAPPY!

All is well, Daddy is back.

It ain't pepto pink, dammit

So we are in the throes of redecorating the bedroom in our apartment that has served for the past three years as the: office, guest room, coat closet, broom closet, and media storage center.

Now it will be....dun, dun dun.....the BIG GIRL'S ROOM! I.e., Monkey is being evicted from the nursery and moved into the new room.

Babygirlcarter#2 will reuse the nursery as is. No need to buy new furniture or bedding. Phew! One less thing to obsess and be anal about. Not that the pregnancy hormones have made me MORE prone to that sort of thing. Nope, not at all. No sireee! Now don't mind me while I obsess about the quilt for Monkey's new bed. Because that's important, dammit! (also, where the hell am I going to put the vacuum cleaner? that one keeps me UP AT NIGHT PEOPLE!!!)

We've acquired an antique dresser with glass knobs and an antique style bed for the Big Girl Room. And last night, Monkey's godmom Heather came over to help me paint the room. Let me just say again, for the record, that she is a goddess for helping me paint. And making me laugh by leaning into the wall and getting paint all over her hair. Seriously.

M is in London so it's a perfect time to do this sort of work. (Why is it perfect? Because I love doing this sort of thing and am good at it. While Matt hates it and would rather chew off his arm than live with boxes and chaos. Really - he does. One time when we moved I sent him to CT to spend the night so I could pack without him!)

And, because Monkey's my little girl and deserves the best, and M has this adorable vision of what her room should look like, I picked out a lovely rose shade of paint. (the bed is an antique blue and the dresser is light blue/lavendar, depending upon the light)

And all I have to say is? Thank G*D it ain't pepto pink. See???

I feel the need, the need for speed....

Monkey wipes out a fair amount on the playground. Not because she is a klutz, but because she is a daredevil. She outruns kids twice her age....and has a seemingly endless reservoir of energy to hurtle from one side of the playground to the other. Even after a full day of school! (and did you know that it is virtually impossible to catch a screaming, energetic, running toddler while in heels or any shoe other than sneakers? all my "pretty" shoes are lonely....)

When she is on a set of steps, she'll yell "jump" and fling herself off into space. When you push her on the swing she alternates between "faster!" and "higher!" When we run on the sidewalk (as she holds my hand, under the new regime) she exhorts you to go "faster faster higher" as if the two words are interchangeable. She feels the need, the need for speed.

And, under the law of averages, she wipes out a lot. Again, not because she is a klutz, but because she runs and jumps and kamikazes so many times that eventually, one of her efforts to land that dismount is going to go astray.

Last night was one such night. She clambered on top of a cement toad with a sprinkler on its back....and rolled off. Hitting all the cement bumps of the toad's back, sides, and legs before hitting the ground and rolling into a puddle of standing water and sand.

I ran to get her, to comfort her and assess the damage. And, while she was littered with small cuts, scrapes, and swollen bruises (those nice little white welts you get on your skin before the real purple bruise shows...), with blood dribbling down her neck from a cut on her chin, and liberally covered in wet, filthy sand, she was OK! One minute later she was laughing again, running across the playground and having a grand old time.

Four hours later I was in the bathtub, cleaning off the grime from the day, including a layer of sand that had gotten inside my dress and my bra (shudder) and clung to my skin all night long. Ew.

Random collection of vignettes from the weekend

1) Monkey has outgrown her allergy to milk! Huzzah!!!!! All the cheese and icecream she can eat! Oh wait, I forgot that when you eat too much mozzarella cheese you get constipated......sorry kid! Guess you overdosed...

2) After consistently teaching Monkey that food and drink stay in the kitchen or at the dining room table, I was totally chastised by my kid for wandering into the living room with lemonade in hand to watch the interview with Michael Phelps. Busted!

3) M is traveling for work and in London this week. So Monkey and I dined alone last night. Half way through the meal she asked me to give her a kiss. Then, looking around, she asked "daddy kisses?"........awwwwww. No wonder he's wrapped around her finger.

Summer time and the living is easy