Watch out Michael Phelps

Taylor's second year of swim lessons start tomorrow, and I'm hoping that this go-round we accomplish more than me just holding her in the water as she splashes me in the face. My fingers are crossed that maybe, just maybe, she'll actually learn some swimming skills this year. But if not, Oh well. At least we'll look serious about it.

A playdate breakthrough

Old Man Winter has taken a break this week, replacing last weekend’s cold-weather blast with lots of sogginess and a few pockets of sunshine. And the other afternoon, after ten straight hours of rainfall, Paige and I staged a last-minute playdate for Miss T and Elliot at our house. The mom’s were thrilled to have some day-time adult interaction, and Taylor was super-excited to show-off all her toys to her best bud.

And while we have had lots and lots of playdates with Elliot, for the first time ever the girls actually played TOGETHER. Their usual grab-toys-from-the-other game was replaced with actual playing. And it was precious. And a lot more relaxing for Paige and I, as we weren’t breaking-up toddler-fights the entire time.

So the girls played awesome TOGETHER for a few hours and then it was time for our guests to go home, which Elly-bean was pretty bummed about.

But then I reminded her that she could come over to play whenever she wanted, and I also shoved a few noise-makers in her pocket for the ride home. Sorry, Paige! Come back ANYTIME.

And a red balloon

So Asheville was hit with another round of winter weather this past weekend, with six inches of snow and ice falling on us Friday afternoon. And the storm not only canceled the Willie Nelson show Chris and I were planning on attending, but it also shut-down all roads, restaurants and stores around us, basically making us prisoners in our own house. Lucky for us, the papers had been predicting it all week, so this go-round I was sure to be well prepared with all the things we would need to remain happy and sane while trapped in our house - Fully stocked fridge and pantry, two batches of homemade chocolate chip cookies, plenty of gossip magazines and a few random toys for when T got sick of running hot-laps around the living room. And thanks to my thoughtful insight, and a red balloon, WE SURVIVED.

The ugly side of show business

When Taylor and I were visiting my parents in Iowa this past fall, my Mom insisted, INSISTED, on taking Taylor toy shopping. And when I reminded her how spoiled her grandbaby already was, not to mention the lack of space we had in our returning luggage, she simply turned her head, mumbled something under her breath and proceeded to stroll T through the toy aisles, chirping, Pick out WHATEVER you want, baby girl. Your Ya-Ya is going to buy you a special toy. And, of course, Taylor’s eyes and arms darted to the most obnoxious toy in the entire store, a mini-music machine, complete with keyboard, microphone and barking-dog joystick. And my Mom smirked and put it in the cart, as if it was retribution for me picking percussion in band when I was younger. Because nothing’s worse than living under the same roof with an eighth-grade girl who releases her teenage angst while practicing snare drum in her room. Alright, I get it now. Are we even yet?

So Miss T played with her revenge-toy for a good week, and then in typical toddler-fashion, moved onto another treasure to covet for a short amount of time. And after residing quietly in the bottom of the toy-bin for a few months, Taylor pulled out her music machine yesterday to give an impromptu performance for Ruby and I. BUT, someone wasn’t in the mood.

And like any artist who has been heckled or interrupted during a show, Taylor reacted in true diva fashion.

I guess we’re gonna have to work on this sensitivity thing before trying out for American Idol, or else T’s gonna be the kid sobbing her way through the cameras outside the audition, and I’ll be the crazy stage-mom going after the judges with my drumsticks.

Multi talented

Go Bulldogs

So a few nights ago Chris decided to treat his ladies to a night of hoops, by scoring us some tickets to the UNCA Men’s Basketball game. With our local Bulldogs competing against Big South Conference rival Winthrop, and with the Justice Center mostly providing general admission, we got to the game about a half hour early to score some good seats and had a few stadium dogs for dinner. As always, the hotdogs were delicious, and we actually managed to get front row seats right behind the dance squad. And our little girl couldn’t have been happier.

And even though the Justice Center is about the size of the gym I played high school basketball in, the tight quarters allowed lots of noise and action as our local favorites proceeded to thump the opponents. UNCA’s head coach is known for it’s fast-pace of play, which is always fun to watch.

And because the game started at seven and ended around nine, we were worried about Miss T having a come-apart around halftime. But she was a total trooper, and was extremely adorable and lively the entire time. Which I assume was a combo of all the action and the game-time snacks.

We’re adventuring

When Chris and I moved to North Carolina seven years ago, we ultimately became residents of a state that boasts award-winning barbeque, year-round mild weather, mountains and beaches, frequent use of the word y’all and mandatory annual car inspections. And with exception to the last, we were fully aware of what we signed up for, and fully excited for our new, Southern lifestyle. But the last one was a bit elusive to us – Until we got an outrageous bill in the mail because we had been North Carolina-residents for six months and had failed to get our cars inspected. We were all, But we just moved here from IOWA. You know... the HEARTLAND. Go Hawkeyes! And why do you need to inspect my car anyways? And they were all, You owe us $250. Pay it. NOW. And then go get your car inspected. Word to the wise – Don’t mess with the NC-DOT.

And because we are no longer dumb college kids, we now schedule our annual car inspections far in advance of their expiration, and today the Cadillac was due for it’s yearly. And while my wonderful husband usually takes care of all automotive issues, he had a last minute appointment come up and I was put in charge of going to the dealership to get my car inspected. Correction – Taylor and I were going to the dealership. At eight o’clock this morning. And since T’s normal rise-and-shine time is around 7:30, I had to gently wake her up with hugs, kisses and cartoons a bit early in order to get her fed, dressed and ready to leave. Oh, remember the days that you could set your alarm a mere five minutes before you needed to head out the door? And then you have a baby and have to plan all outings at least an hour in advance.

So we left the house at 7:45 and had to fight the morning commute to get to the west side. In the rain. Ugh. And while I miss the convenience of traveling solo, I most certainly do not miss driving in bumper-to-bumper traffic five mornings a week. But, Hey, T and I were on an adventure, and with my giant to-go coffee and bag full of toys with us, we were going to complete our mission with, hopefully, very few tantrums. Because, as I have mentioned, Miss Taylor is a bit irritable in the hours following slumber, and any straying from our normal routine generally prompts a melt-down.

But my girl surprised me. Shocked me, actually. She was such a good girl in the waiting area, and spent the majority of the time exploring the room, checking out all the chairs and nooks and crannies. Oh, and she discovered one of the best magazines of ALL TIME: Highlights.

And after the car inspection was done, I decided to take advantage of being on the west side and treated my little girl to her very first-ever Krispy Kreme donut. And, needless to say, it blew her 21-month old mind.