I recently had a great and lovely day with my family, and so I figured I wanted to write a few things about how it went: easier to remember, and easier to tell my daughter that yes, we had those good days, those hilarious days, barely tainted by anything bad, and they went sort of like so.
Anyway, my baby woke up early on Saturday: she was up by 7 am. Hubs brought her to me for a nice nursing session. I then left them to make faces at each other in bed, and went to fix breakfast of scrambled eggs, ham, and bread.
We all ate together; then hubs watched our daughter while I did some kitchen cleaning. He passed her to me and went to catch some more shut-eye.
She found my undisturbed stack of clothes and immediately started tossing it around. Said stack, for the record, was made of the clothes that she’s outgrown and which I have decided to give away or sell, since I don’t intend to use them again. She had a whale of a time doing so, and I had a whale of a time taking pictures of her with my trusty little camera.
Around 10h30, she started rubbing her eyes, and I expertly and expediently (if I do say so myself) put her in bed for a nap. She woke from this nap at 12ish, just in time to be served a vegetable casserole (the moussaka I mentioned the other day), which she ate with gusto, eagerness and delight.
Shortly thereafter, we left home for the local organic products store, where we wanted to check for some stuff, including black raisins. We did find the raisins, and my daughter found an opportunity to shop. She saw the little shopping basket on the floor and started pushing it around (I should mention it doesn’t have any… um…. wheels). At some point she stopped to add some olives to it. And then she continued, under the amused gaze of half the shop’s employees and nearly all the customers.
After prying her away from this, we walked with her hand in hand to another shop, and then a restaurant where we know the staff. Everyone was delighted to see how she was growing and how cheeky she was, although I, as a mother, didn’t particularly enjoy her trying to run away from me all the time. Btw, my husband’s awesome. Aaaaanyway.
After this (at around 2h30) we got in the car and drove down to the big supermarket for some expansive, extended shopping. But before this, we went to eat, since hubs and I had not had any of that veggie casserole. We ordered Duck with noodles, sat in a corner booth with her on the inside and my husband on the outside, and ate, handing bites of duck and noodles to our daughter, who ate it with delight, punctuated by onomatopeia: “aaaah!” “YUMMMMM!” “MMMMM!” and so forth.
Eventually we were done, and she agreed to get up and go with us, piece of duck still in her greasy little palm. We made for the baby store, where she proceeded to “shop” again; we kept trying to wipe her fingers and she kept trying to reach for the sort of thing that least needed greasy palmprints. Eventually, though, she discovered the children’s play area, and proceeded to climb up the slide, then sit, and slide back down, under her parents’ fond, delighted, and frankly admiring gaze. Yes, yes: our 13-m-old can climb on slides, woohoo! We were fit to burst with pride.
After this, we went to the grocery store. Walked around a bit, with our daughter. Eventually, my husband sat down next to her, while I went to fetch something we’d forgotten in a previous aisle. Just as I was coming back, and sat next to them, we had our Big Drama Of The Day: she gave a small bouncy jump, tried to get off the bench, gained too much momentum, bumped her mouth into the cart, resulting in her teeth sinking deeply into her inner lip and splitting it open. The injury was menial, but really, tell that to a mother and father who are seeing their precious baby bleed. First we ran like headless chickens towards reception to get a first aid kit. Then we noticed a long line of people queueing for reception, and one of us moused over to the nearby bakery to get some napkins and keep pressure on the still-bleeding lip. Then both of us noticed the bleeding was subsiding, and we decided that maybe nursing her and giving her some water might be a more effective form of treatment than hoping for a bandaid to stick to her INNER LIP. Really, stereotypical worried parent stuff.
The shopping trip was… pretty much ruined… after that, we really had no desire to go on shopping (but we did, to the sounds of a frustrated toddler who wanted to go HOME). By the time we got to the car, my husband was staggering, I was biting my lip and trying to forget about the grinding pain in my back, and our girl was vehemently protesting the cold night air.
We got in the car.
She fell asleep in the 5 minutes that followed, waking up for a few minutes to have herself a piece of fruit, some milk, a fresh diaper, and a change into her nightclothes once we got home.