Karma Lesson: Nothing Good Comes From Stealing

There was a moment of sheer panic today when my beautiful daughter ambled over to me, smiling as best she could considering there was an entire whole egg wedged in her mouth. Not a real egg, like we have for breakfast, but the same size and shape. In other words, hello choking hazard. This egg is green and filled with little shaky beads, and when not being eaten by children it is a rudimentary percussion instrument for toddlers who want to masquerade as jazzy beatniks who want to wear berets and hang out in smokey jazz clubs/living rooms.

Her lips were closed over most of it so all I could see was the green oval swatch that indicated my horror. How Avery managed to the whole thing in her mouth, I don’t know. I swear she is like a snake with one of those detachable jaws. My heart sank as I tried to figure out in three seconds or less what the hell I was suppose to do. No time to check a book or website. I tried to remain calm to keep her smiling because I am certain her smile muscles were the one thing that were keeping that egg in her mouth and not on its way down her throat. I then worked my littlest finger into the corner of her mouth, pop the damn egg out, threw it in the kitchen garbage and called Nicole in a cold sweat. It made me regret “borrowing” the egg (there were so many, and they made of four-month-old happy) from the instrument collection of the puppeteer at my nephew’s last birthday party. Just goes to show you stealing is wrong.

I was such a little shoplifter as a child. I used to carry a picnic basket into stores and fill it up with books and smurfs and stuffed animals. Once I stole The Official Preppy Handbook. I never got caught. I was in fourth grade, maybe fifth. It was bad. And then I remember one day my brother pocketed a fishing lure, all of 99 cents or something, and got caught by security. He got in so much trouble. It happened to be his birthday, too, which was even worse. I remember we went out to dinner but he had to sit in the car. And then when my dad got home from work at like 10 pm he had to call our grandparents and tell them. I listened to this play out from my lair, surrounded by stolen bunnies and toys and reading stolen Archie comics.

The houses’ balance of health is returning, thank goodness. After cutting her top two molars and getting over roseola, Maddie is back in fine sprits. This means she walks around with purpose, pushing buttons, rearranging books, and, her new thing, distributing flashcards around the home. It is as if it is her job to turn the DVR box on and off at least three times a hour and to make sure objects are placed into her toy cookie jar. She also manages to find every tiny scrap of paper on the floor and every feather that works its way out of the couch cushions. She also tries to eat said scraps and feathers.

So she spends her days with a smile on her face and performs all tasks with a dugga dugga dugga soundtrack (her latest “words”). I really feel like she is trying to communicate with us, and I think she thinks we know what she is saying. At least, I think she is understanding more of what we are saying to her. When I ask her where the ball she is, she fetches and brings it to me. When I ask Avery where Doggie, Maddie will go and find him ad bring it to me first sometimes. This could spell trouble in the coming months, as Doggie is Avery’s, and Avery knows it.

This is a far cry from the Maddie or last week, who cried and was in so much pain that she would throw herself on the ground (literally throw herself) and writhe around while opening her mouth and squinting. That, we have come to realize, is teething pain.

Avery, I should add, loves the word No. She doesn’t say it, but when I say it and shake my head, she smiles and laughs and shakes her head too. I think she knows that No means No but right now all she wants to do if show me her head shake.

I need a haircut. It has been a really long time. And I feel like the girls might need one soon. Their hair is suddenly very curly in the back. It is like they gave each other perms one night. But it is straight up front. Avery has a tail, and has since birth. It is a mini mullet, truly Business in the Front and Party in the Back. I am scared of Hair Responsibility for the girls: It is hard enough for me to make decisions about my own hair, let alone others. I don't know how we will be able to decide long vs. short and bangs vs. none. All i know is I really want pigtails for them.

It’s gonna be a busy weekend. We have a baptism on Sunday and a visit to friends on Saturday. And in between it all I need to start thinking about packing for our Cape Cod Adventures. The girls in the car for the 5/6/7/8 hour drive up? That should be interesting. But I love packing and, even more, I love packing for road trips. There is something about packing up the car, with luggage in the back and coolers on the floor of the back seat and everything in its proper place. Oh, the organization of it all.

Pictured above, three pictures sent to Mommy at work to prove that the girls were back to themselves. They are all grainy because I took them on my computer camera. I kinda like the grainy effect.