I have two “milks”. They are the same size as my bellybutton. Also in tonight’s bathtub sketch-fest: a cat, a dog, a bear, a scary monster, herself, a spider, and a ladder.

Love this kid.

I need to learn how to blog again.

Four days ago Hazel and I had a self-proclaimed snow day – the streets were sheets of ice and seven busses weren’t able to run, but they didn’t call school for our county. I stayed home from work, and she from daycare, anyway. One of those days where I am extra-grateful for my job. Now it’s almost sixty degrees, and yesterday she and her little buddy, Xavier, made “snow angels” in the pea gravel at the playground, with no need for outerwear / hats / gloves.

I’ve ventured into the worlds of air plants (so weird and impossible, inspired by these open-faced christmas balls that I bought on clearance for fifty cents each.) And the world of green smoothies (so far mostly spinach and celery and avocado, with some berries thrown in, a little juice, some chia or flax seeds… whatever leftover fruits or veggies are in the fridge… so far I haven’t had one turn out green because I am still playing it safe with my spinach : berry ratio. Two giant handfuls of spinach is my max.) Only a few days in, and I have markedly higher energy levels, which is much needed after two months of limping along, nursing some now-mild shit-in-my-throat illness that may or may not be whooping cough (apparently it’s going around? Hazel never got what I had?)

And I made a Pinterest. God help me.

Listning: Nick Drake pandora

I wrote a WV Etsy gift guide, in case you are in need of any last-minute gift ideas :)

(While you shop there, Hazel is currently pretending to shop in Target [kitchen] for her baby [stuffed dog]. She is buying treats. There are even automatic doors.)

There was a stalling-bedtime-inquiry about why twins she knows are referred to as their given names, but sometimes also as “Bubby and Sissy.” I quickly explain the concept of nicknames to an exhausted three year old. Kisses on her bean and that of every stuffed creature in her bed.

Ten minutes later I think she’s sound asleep when her voice comes trailing through the slightly-open door.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, honey?”

“I’m Hazel-banana.”

Comprehension.

Listning: John Prine

: She identifies this shape as a “simi-circle”, and pronounces just about every other bit of geometry she knows with a deep southern drawl that melts my heart.

: She is digging her own personal Regina Spektor pandora station, thumbed to her taste, and this song keeps coming on and prompting her to dance her skinny little pants off.

: This also makes her dance until she breaks a sweat.

: Speaking of dancing…

: This book has been holding re-read status. Geometry and dancing. Yep.

: Today she talked me into a blue ceramic piggy bank from the Target dollar bins. She named her Ink. Ink the Pig is currently asleep in Hazel’s bed, in the crook of her arm, tucked in with a super-special Peanuts doll blanket made by my mom.

: Tonight she wrote this song while playing in the bath:

Oh lord, if you like to swim in my bathtub
You get clean
I’m going to make more water
That’s yucky water
If you like to swim in my bathtub
I wondered if you can go under my feet
Oh lord, if you like to get a bowl
If I like a bowl
Say that, “I like new water”
If you need, if you need
If you need to swim in my bath
Bath bath bath bath
If you like to come here in this bathtub
If you like to, if you like to
If you like to come here
If you like to swim
If you like
Come in this bath tub
You don’t have to be dirty
There is clean water
If you like, if you like, if you like tooooo
Because I don’t have clothes on
Nope, I don’t have clothes on

Miss Hazel Mae is three years old today – until I ask her to walk up the porch steps because my arms are full of work stuff and shed outer layers and chinese takeout (her bday dinner request).

E: “Come on, you’re THREE! You can definitely walk up these steps.”
H: “NO! HOLD me! I’m TWO!”

Photos of yesterday’s festivities forthcoming – there were several talented cameras floating around her party, so I took about seven pictures. BUT… this evening I did photograph all of the fun handmades for her dollhouse. It’s kind of a problem, the making of these Tiny Little Things. Jamie, Sarah and I went to town on the itty-bitty.

Jamie and Sarah created an amazing array: dining room hutch with Fiestaware and other goodies, craft cabinet, YARN STASH and knitting needles, a cabinet filled with (scrabble tile!) books with actual tiny covers of books that H has memorized, a clothesline (swoon) and crocheted basket of tiny clothespins, a pot of flowers, a trunk, and afghans. Whew. I knitted a tiny blanket, made various sizes of flower pots, a toybox with blocks, balls, and a tiny train (I didn’t make this – scavenged it from tiny xmas decorations!), Peanuts comic strip wall art, interchangable on velcro backing, and tiny paper bunting. We’re all brimming with ideas for more, more, more tiny things.

Happy Birthday, Hazel Mae!

A pretend trip to her cousin’s house apparently requires: a cup, a lizard, a single jelly bracelet.

Hazel comes around to things in her own time, always. She has never liked to ride Mechanical Things… tiny zoo train, quarter helicopter / car / dog things at the mall. No way. No. Way. But then…

Last night at the Buckwheat Festival, she had a silent epiphany. I don’t know how or why. A couple hours of looking, watching, enjoying the midway but flatly refusing to go near for a close look, panic-voice if her stroller strolled too near a whirring, blinking ride. And for some reason, just as it was getting dark, she looked at the small carnival prize bears clutched in each hand. Calmly and certainly decided.

“I want to take ‘dese bears on ‘dose boats, Mommy.”

I only let myself say “are you sure?” one time. She was secured into a boat. Ordered me outside the fence. Sat patiently while more kids trickled in. My heart was racing… I was sure she would bail or freak out as soon as the ride started. I was sure I would freak out.

A momentary panic-stricken look and arm-flail at the first tiny hill and then… bliss. We all cheered every time the Devlin-and-Hazel-boat came around (we were THOSE moms.) Three bucks to ride one more time. A toddler meltdown when I vetoed the airplanes because it was already bedtime and we were forty minutes from her bed… but a promise to go back on Saturday afternoon for a $9 wristband and rides ’til she pukes. If it doesn’t rain.

Please don’t rain.

…are the nearest thing to heaven that I know.

And they are not green, but blue, as seen through this lovely instagram filter. I’m teaandlaundry, and I’m an addict.

Hay-z is three years old in about a month. This will be our view from her party, if the weather cooperates. She has long loved birthday parties, but has never put too much (voiced) thought into her own. She has requested “chalk, crayons, Ella, Xavier, Morgan, black balloons and black cake.” Auntie Megan has already taken care of the first. I have high hopes for some of the others. I can indulge some Snoopy-colored balloons (to complement her Snoopy-themed invites, of which I’ve completed steps 1-3!) I have other cake ideas that are hopefully so exciting she’ll forget she asked for a black one. Does anyone out there happen to have the retired 1960s Wilton Snoopy cake pan? :)

Nothing makes this kid happier than birthday parties. And when you ask her how she got so tall, she says “workin’ for Chuck.” The ideas are pretty much directing themselves… :)