Sugar and spice…

There are days when Maya has a little more spice than most…but I want to tell you about today – when she started it off by showing me nothing but sugar.

This past weekend was a Maya one – deemed “Pumpkin Weekend!” by her ever-obsessed mother (that would be me.)  We had grand plans…spend some time at Underwood Farms checking out the animals, tractors, and pumpkiny things.  Make pumpkin bars.  Make our Frankenpumpkin (last year’s version can be seen here

He's alive...alive!!!
He’s alive…alive!!!

– this year’s isn’t finished yet…)

It was a long day Saturday at the farm. Fun, but long.

Brushing a goat
Here she is brushing a goat at the petting zoo

There was no nap.  There had not been a nap for several days.  Spiciness was starting to rear it’s ugly head, so Sunday was a stay-at-home day.  Baking and painting a gourd.  I was exhausted and had been looking forward to our Sunday nap all weekend.  And of course, because I wanted to have it so bad, it ended up being a short one.  And it ended with whining. “Mommmmmmeeeeee…mommmmmmeeeee” …I asked what was wrong. And nothing was…she just didn’t want to get out of bed. Neither did I.  I got irritated. So did she. I asked her why she didn’t just get out of bed, and she said because she wanted me to come to her. Which I always do if she calls from bed…but for awhile there, she was doing this adorable thing where she would get up…I would hear her little stomps (she’s heavy-footed like me) coming from her room into mine.  My arm would usually be hanging off the bed as I was still half-asleep praying for a few more minutes of slumber…and she would put her little hand onto my arm and rub my arm and say “Mommy…” in a little, quiet voice, or sometimes not say anything at all.  I can only think of a few nicer ways to be woken up.  This was a trend after I converted her crib to the toddler bed, and then the novelty of being able to get out of bed wore off, and the sweet wake-ups were no more.

I told her Sunday that I used to love her doing that and I missed it.

My alarm went off this morning…the start to what is going to be a very long week. I smacked the snooze button. Twice.  And finally turned the alarm off.  I lay there in the dark, praying for a few more minutes of precious sleep.  And then I heard a familiar sound….the opening of a door, and some little girl stomps…and felt a light touch on my arm.

“Mommy! ” she said with a smile.

“Good morning, sweet girl!” I said, sleepily.

“Can you take my stinky pull-up off? It’s full,” she asked in her outside voice.

“Yes, sweetheart, of course,” I replied.

How could I refuse? Anything for my little doll, who this morning reminded me that more often than not, she is sweeter than my favorite pumpkin crumble, beyond thoughtful for her years, and certainly everything nice.

By Joy

I'm 42, a remarried mom of an 8 year old girl and a toddler son, a teacher, and a writer. People tell me I tend to be brutally honest and ...tell it like it is, so I had hoped to use this outlet to keep me sane while I got used to my new life as a stay-at-home Mom back when I was home with my worked. And it's been therapeutic through the end of a marriage and the emergence of me...


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