Okay, Baby Girl has this friend. He’s a special friend, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to arrange for her to marry him one day when they’re 35 years old. Hank and Erin came into our lives in a really funny way that illustrates perfectly the unescapable impact of Mommy Brain.

I think I’ve mentioned to people in person, but not on the blog, that I was pretty much the only person I knew in real life who cloth diapered in TN. That’s mostly true. TONS of people here do it, which still blows my mind. Anyway, I posted some cloth diapers for sale on Craigslist (because, turns out, the sound of Velcro makes me want to rake my fingernails down my face and these had it). Erin was the mama who answered the ad and came over to buy the diapers. We made small talk for a few minutes and I even tried one of the diapers on her chunky monkey of a boy to make sure they fit him. I swear I remember thinking she was really cool and that I should ask her for her phone number (who knew you had to flipping date and risk rejection to find decent/fun playgroup moms?) so we could hang out, but I didn’t.

Fast forward to several months later. Actually, I don’t know how long it was. We’ll say months. I was a member of an online message board (I know, I am just as cool as you’ve always suspected) devoted to parenting/babywearing/other baby nonsense and found another TN mom who lived near me. We chatted a lot and made plans to get together. We exchanged names, numbers, etc and picked a date for her to come over with her son. Keep in mind we both have photos and first names on our message board profiles, so there’s no mystery there. As she’s driving to my house, she calls me and says, “Wait. What does your house look like again?” I tell her, and she starts cracking up. Until she pulled into my driveway, we never put two and two together and realized we had already met all that time before. She was the Craigslist diaper mom, of course. The rest is history.

The best part of the story is that Erin and I were pretty much separated at birth, we think. We don’t get to see each other that often, but she’s my very favorite blend of nice and sarcastic and witty and brilliant. It doesn’t hurt that she  also knows the perfect time to use words like asshat. She creates fantastic meals that I occasionally try to copy and makes me laugh-snort at her Facebook comments. Isn’t that what we all want in a friend?

Okay, just kidding about that being the best part of the story. THIS is the best part: I was reading what I wrote about us re-meeting and thinking it might not be totally correct. I messaged Erin, laughing at myself and basically asking, “Um, how did we re-meet again? I’m a ditz and can’t remember what happened. I just remember the laughing.” She responded back with a totally different story about us meeting at my school to exchange a baby carrier (which I do remember), but I thought that happened like a year later. Awesome. So, we don’t know how we re-met and apparently we’re both a little fuzzy on details of any sort when it comes to this whole thing, but there you go. Sounds about right for us. You just pick whichever story you like best. Honestly, Erin’s version is probably the accurate one, but trying to figure it out is now its very own story.

Our kids are about three months apart, and she just sent me some photos that go way back to when they were tiny (and when Hank was a chunker and not a beanpole!). We were very sad to leave them when we moved, and Erin tells me Hank thinks we live with the farmers (because his map has a picture of a farmer on the state of Iowa, of course). These two didn’t miss a beat, and were screaming jibberish directly into the other’s face 30 seconds into the visit. We spilled food everywhere, Hank gave Baby Girl a toy from his treasure chest for going poop on the potty (house rules), and Erin and I drank coffee with condensed milk in it  (See? Brilliant, she is) and pretty much ignored them. My dream playdate.

I’ve been meaning to do it forever, but I just moved over all my old posts from the MySpace blog I kept before starting this one. If you happen to be incredibly bored or have crippling insomnia or something sometime and want to read them, they should appear in chronological order. All the way back to 2006. Yep. Always with the thrills around here.

I don’t think the photos are loading for now. I’ll work on it. I did lose the comments, but life goes on.

You know, you think you’ll remember every detail of a trip…and then you get back home and get, well, busy with life. This is why I take photos, people. Baby Girl and I wrapped up the trip with visits to a few MTSU buddies. Hillary (who could not, could NOT look any younger) was one of my college roommates and has two sweet little boys. We made the critical mistake of taking the kids to an awesome but very OPEN playground. The result was that we mostly chased the kidlets and sort of shouted to each other every once in a while in a lame attempt to catch up on our lives. We will do better next time and take them to (an enclosed) Chik-Fil-A like sane people. Baby Girl also got to meet Shaun, an old CRU friend. He was admirably tolerant of her climbing all over him and rearranging the contents of the kitchen’s spice cabinet.

And last, but not least, we drove almost to St. Louis and stayed overnight with my friend Staci (and my new friend, Larry). I’m not sure how Larry escaped the camera…next time. I love Staci, and not just because I can call her up and say, “Hey! I’ve just discovered you now live EXACTLY between Murfreesboro, TN and North Liberty, IA. Um, I’ll be there on the 19th, okay?” But I can, and I’m very thankful for that. We had just enough time to visit a little and have a few glasses of wine before we all crashed. The next morning, BG and I headed back home to Iowa. Though BG didn’t sleep one solitary wink on either leg of the drive, we rocked out to Jimmy Eat World, Ben Folds, and Old MacDonald Had a Farm. It was shockingly easy and we got home just fine. Road trip success.

(Fair warning: photo overload)

Our trip home to Tennessee turned out to be quite the exhausting whirlwind! My social calendar was full for every single day, giving me the illusion that my company is incredibly desirable. My fragile ego thanks you, TN people.

Our first stop on the Tennessee Tour of Matrimony was the wedding of our friends Dan and Karyn. I quickly discovered that the only downside of trying to make sure the flower girl actually gets down the aisle (which is much, much more difficult than it sounds) is that I don’t get a chance to snap any pictures of her in action.

We got to celebrate Nathan’s birthday at, of course, Camino.

We did lots of visiting with the grandparents and family. My grandfather actually said to me, “Well, that precious little girl is here now. I’ll hug you, too, but I really just want to see her.” I was feeling the love. Apparently, I managed to not get one single picture of Andrew’s parents. Oops. Sorry about that. We also got to see my cousin Chris get married to his sweet girl Heather. Baby Girl was confused to attend a wedding in which she was NOT a flower girl. She said, “Where’s my basket?”

I still can’t quite believe it happened, but we also got Tim and Heather married! I’ve never been to a wedding with so many jokes about how long the bride and groom dated featured in the vows (six years, for the record–right?). Hilarious. It has been amazing to walk with these two friends on their journey so far. I have loved watching them love each other over the past three years, and I’ll even admit to loving some of their spectacularly absurd fights. My whole family was proud to stand there with them as they said their vows. Well, Baby Girl didn’t so much “stand” as “wander aimlessly around the church, smear M&Ms and pink Chapstick on her lips, and cause other children to cry because she wouldn’t share,” but you get the idea. Because Andrew and I were both in the wedding party, I asked one of the Harvest View moms who was on the front row to give BG her reward M&Ms (shut up, it WORKS) and have her sit with them. BG wouldn’t share her candy with the other two kiddos, which made them cry and eventually have to leave the church during the ceremony. I couldn’t quite figure out how to communicate to Christy with only my eyes (you know, so it wouldn’t show in the wedding video/photos) that it was totally okay with me for her to force BG to share and/or sit on her to get her to stop whining. There were tons of kiddos involved in the wedding, and it was loud and chaotic and joyful–just like they wanted.

Whew. I’m tired. I still have 2 more folders of photos from this trip, so I’ll be back soon. Enjoy.

There weren’t many sunny days while we were in Tennessee, but we did make it to the zoo with a few favorite people. I’m not sure exactly how this crew got assembled, but we also convinced sweet 11 (right?) year old Stacy that it would totally be fun for her to help us wrangle Baby Girl and Baby Micah. Poor child! We all gathered at Nathan’s house, and after approximately 40 minutes of incredibly difficult carseat installation and the packing of enough snacks and random kid debris for a five day safari, we were off. Heather and Nathan were too wimpy to drive the Rollins’ tank  Armada, so I got volunteered. Heather helped my nerves about driving someone else’s very expensive vehicle by reminding me that the lives of three precious children were in my hands, which is why she declined to drive. Here’s my face:

Have you ever seen a child crawl under a goat? That's what he did next.

Animals were seen, maps were eaten by very rude goats, and many laughs were had by all. Also, I was reasonably sure of Baby Girl’s location roughly 95% of the time. Zoo success.

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Heather’s quote of the day:

“Have you BEEN to 100 Oaks Mall? It’s like a third world country.”

I have no words, really. Oh, how I love that girl!

I figure that I’ve told this story to pretty much everyone I’ve seen since Sunday, so I might as well plaster it on the Internet and call it a day. I also heard a rumor that it was told gleefully by Judd to large groups of people at a baptism gathering later that day. Awesome. You’re welcome for the laugh at my expense.

So, I have this thing where I think things and then say them out loud without actually looking around to see who is there to hear it. You’ve all done this, right? Right. While we’re visiting in TN, I was excited to go to Harvest View on Sunday. Not five minutes after I walk in the door, I meet their new pastor. I mean it when I say we’ve prayed for this man to come for a very long time, and I am so glad he’s there. After meeting him, I was chatting with my friend Sheri and said, “The new pastor is really cute!”  My memory actually thought I said “hot,” but I am assured that the word I used was cute. Whew. THAT would have been awkward.

Sheri chuckled and said, “Let me introduce you to his wife!” I was standing so close to her I could touch her. I almost died.

We had a good laugh, I think I stammered something coherent about who I was and how glad I was to meet her and her family, and that sweet woman just laughed right along with me and totally blew it off (as I was silently willing her to do, prettyprettyplease). I went up to her again after the service to bashfully apologize and we had another laugh. I wonder how long it was before she told her husband. Pretty sure it was before the sermon even started. Good job, Vanessa.

I’ve been hanging out with people from my HV small group most of the day, so they’ve had a good time with this. I think Judd is telling anyone who will listen.

See? I can laugh at myself. If you need me, I’ll be in a corner and looking for another church to visit next Sunday. If someone directs the pastor here, please don’t tell me. Ignorance is bliss.

• Baby Girl just told me that her pasta “tastes like feet” and that “this fork has crud on it.”  Thank you very much, Ice Age short at the beginning of the Horton Hears a Who movie.
• I killed a huge spider this morning. Baby Girl helped by actually spotting the spider, then shrieking in my ear until I squished it. When I flushed it, she called out in the sweetest little voice “Bye, spider! Have fun going to your mommy and daddy and family! They will love you and help you not be squished! Bye!”
• We have discovered that BG is a righty for writing and throwing, and a lefty for kicking and batting. By batting, I mean she bats left when we play what is loosely called broom ball in our house. She finds a ball and a broom, screeches “Wait! I need to be a baseball!” Then she runs to find a baseball hat and smashes it down over the ever-present crown, then tries to use the broom like a pitching wedge to launch the ball at my face.

• Conversation while applying a Bandaid to an actual wound (rare in this house)–

BG: I fell down and scrapeded my knee (sniff, sniff).

Me: Yes, I know. I saw, and it was two days ago. You’re fine.

BG: Bandaids can’t crawl like caterpillars, right?

Me: Nope.

BG: Bandaids can’t talk, can they? And they can’t go to sleep, can they?

Me: Nope.

BG: Bandaids can just go on the booboos and stay there on the blood and the booboo.

Please rate the following experience on a Weirdness Scale of 1 to 10. 

I was walking to the playground/library today with Baby Girl. We take the bike trail, which runs behind a few other apartment buildings. There’s a large grassy area, and we often stop to talk to people there playing ball or walking dogs or whatever. Today, there was a couple practicing golf swings. They were standing at opposite sides of the field, and we passed the woman first. Their little dog ran over to us to be petted, so we chatted for a few minutes before going on. As we get closer to the guy, he YELLS out, “Hot  redhead at one ‘o clock!” Naturally, I turned around to see who he was yelling about. Then I realize it might be me, as we are the only people on the trail and I just colored my hair a tiny bit. We are most definitely within earshot of the woman (who turns out to be his WIFE). He immediately trots over to us and starts chatting. Before I can utter a sentence, I learn that all of his other exes were redheads except his “current wife” (his words) who, as I could clearly see for myself, is blond. He is 40, she is 26, and they’re having a baby girl in 2 months to add to his other 2 adorable children from, you know, his other exes. He also assured me that, even though he’s 40, he’s in phenomenal shape. I think I must have said something, waved again at his apparently pregnant wife across the field, and kept right on walking.

People, how bizarre was that? Tell me.

ETA: I forgot! He also told me which store his wife manages at the mall and invited me to come in sometime for a discount on a bra.

Baby Girl turned three this past week, and she is taking this no-longer-a-baby stuff very, very seriously. The result is twofold–she is unbelievably verbal and brilliant and hilarious and perceptive, AND she is unbelievably rigid and unpredictable and opinionated and oh-my-word can this girl throw a tantrum. I love being her mother, and in the same breath I will admit that she tries every last ever-loving nerve I have. Oh, THE DRAMA. Just off the top of my head, she has thrown kill-me-now-turn-it-up-to-level-12 fits over the following things in the past 24 hours or so: the fact the steering wheel covers has holes in it, the moon was not a circle in the sky (half moon), she had a crease on her elbow from the pattern of the recliner, she misses her white house and doesn’t WANT to go to I-Wa and live in a sandcastle (that’s Iowa, and our apartment building is a sandcastle, obviously)…and on and on. That doesn’t even include the little facts that she has worn the same three dresses since we moved here in June (Did you know that only blue dresses make her like a beautiful princess???), she wears a crown just about everywhere we go, and she never takes off her white Sunday-shoe-type shoes (not even to sleep). If I manage to cajole her into another dress for Sunday (just to show that she does, in fact, have other clothes), she weeps and wails, “Okaaaay, but it doesn’t make me like a beautiful princess and I’m not beautiful AT ALL!”  Pants or shorts are in no way acceptable for any reason. Take that.

She also builds awesome forts for all her babies, asks me to read to her all the time (love it), tells me I’m her bestest beautiful mommy, cuddles up to me and fits right into my side like a little puzzle piece when we read Twenty-six Princesses for the fifteenth time, runs over to tell me that she just made a new friend at the playground, writes “once upon a time stories” for me, helps me cook/eats my ingredients, and gives me a little glimpse of what I must have been like as a child. She thinks that getting to buy and eat an apple when we start the grocery trip is the greatest treat in the world. Other current favorite activities include using my cloth napkins and water to wash the kitchen floor (like Cinderella, you know), taking as many baths as I will allow her in a day, hiding tiny pinecones all over her room (she sneaks them in from outside), and using an entire roll of toilet paper to make a wedding aisle so she can marry her Diego doll. In short, she’s amazing. I’m so glad I get to be her mother.

Just so you can see some of the fun:

All trash is a toy to her. She stole the cardboard packaging from a new vacuum cleaner to make castles for her many babies

I’m not sure what was happening here, exactly.

She thinks I’m a genius because I can make heart-shaped sandwiches.

And the stillness only Cinderella can bring.