Too Many Minions?

Have you ever received a rejection letter that really just didn’t make sense to you? If not…please skip the miniature tirade in this paragraph and move on to the fun below. Otherwise, read on here: I just got one in regards to the following post. If they had just said, “This is not the type of content that we feel our readers would enjoy” and left it at that, I would have been fine. Perhaps I would have been a little miffed, nothing more than a minute or two of agitation couldn’t handle, and then I would have moved on. But that sentence was immediately followed by the words, “We are looking for lists that are remarkable—lists that make you go “wow!” This list is missing that remarkability” and then the suggestion that I learn how to cite my sources…fyi, the only source here is my brain. If I used another source, I would certainly cite it! I am feeling fairly frustrated at the moments because a) multiple rejections for either my work (submitted to places such as the above, though most with much nicer rejections like “we are not accepting submissions at this time) and b) the site asked for unique content but the rejection letter made it clear that my ‘unique’ content needed to fall into line with everyone else. I don’t know, I don’t often write lists so maybe this isn’t a “WOW!” what do you think?

Found by searching bing images for Minions

The Despicable Me franchise, and specifically the little yellow Minions themselves, has amassed a loyal following made up of movie lovers from the ages of 0-100. In my family we watch them at least weekly, even if only the short videos. There have even been multiple occasions in which 4 generations (4!) gathered together and watched a Despicable Me. Completely lovable in their anti-hero personas, Gru, Dr. Nefario, Steve, Mark, Phil, Tim, Dave, and all the rest secured a place in our hearts at least equal to Disney Princess status (and much less grating than having to watch “Let it Go” yet again). With the Minion movie coming out soon, the little yellow guys are enjoying a resurgence in their popularity, causing even more minion mayhem than usual.

So how do you know if you’ve watched these films a time or two too many? Well, that’s why I’m here! Here is a list of the Top Ten Ways You Know You’ve Watched Despicable Me too Much (If there is such a thing)…Don’t worry, I am guilty of all of them…and so much more!

  • Anytime someone asks you for something “pretty please” you’re automatic response is “The Physical Appearance of the Please does not matter!”

Gru says this to Edith, Agnes, and Margo near the beginning of their relationship in response to their request for a bedtime story. This sets the basis for a very funny moment a little later, and a moving and heartwarming moment toward the end of the movie. This also gave parents and teachers around the world a great come back for the ever present “Pretty Please.” Because, let’s face it, “I said no and I meant it” just gets tired.

  • Your child (and now you, to some extent) sincerely believes that a fire engine makes the sound “Be-do, Be-do, BEE-DO”

Because if a minion said it, it must be true right? RIGHT!? Ok, so the sound is somewhat similar if you think about it but this is one of those things that you take videos of for posterity while thanking the Good Lord Above that toddlers cannot actually make the sound of a fire or police siren.

  • You have actually tried to build one or more real working prototypes of Dr. Nefario’s little toys (Fart gun anyone??)

Toy Stores such as WalMart sale so those little replicas and plushy dolls. My child has a Dave that says 25 different phrases, burps, and can fart 4 different ways. I swear I rolled over in bed one night, kicked the thing hidden in my covers, and he said PAPOY! Scared me half to death!

Not only are these toys fun (F-U-N!!) but they also allow grown adults to spend time pretending to shoot farts at each other from a gun…a gun that at least 2 of my friends have attempted to build. (Sadly for them, they couldn’t figure out how to get the ‘gas’ effect just right…I tried hard to be upset with them, truly I did.)

  • You believe that a Squid Launcher could actually be a marketable tool.

Here’s one I haven’t seen at a toy store yet: Vector’s ‘launcher’ gun. I cannot tell you how much I would love to have one within arm’s reach most days. Being interrupted is a pet peeve and I’m pretty sure that if I had a squid or piranha launcher I could take care of that rude little problem fairly quickly. (side note: Does anyone else always say piranha and at least silently add “I’m a Piranha, they live in the Amazon?” from Finding Nemo)

  • Any Pharrell song (especially Happy or Where Them Girls At) comes on the radio and your 2 year old yells, “MY MOVIE MY MOVIE, WANT PICABLE!”

They don’t forget that either! You can be in the car on the way to dinner/movie/shopping/etc and when you get home 6 hours later BAM! They haven’t been in the house 30 seconds and that dvd case is being waved in front of you with ‘Pickle Me’ being chanted over and over and over until you wear down and find yourself hoping you remembered to DVR the 3 shows you were thinking of watching.

  • The word ‘fluffy’ not only snuck its way back into your vocabulary, it now has its own voice.

Seriously, try saying fluffy without the weird growly but childish and kind of high pitched voice that you now believe to be intrinsic to the pronunciation…sounds hideous doesn’t it?

  • You have to mentally correct yourself before asking your child if they want a “Bapple” or “BA-NA-NA”

This is a particular challenge in my home because she sometimes will not respond if you merely say ‘banana.’ Oh no, you must use the correct tone and, depending on the time and how hungry she is, you may have to actually do the slow motion yell from the ‘Banana’ short film.

  • Despicable Me’s Theme (aka-I’m Having a Bad Bad Day…) is either your ring/message tone or one of your ‘happy’ songs (funny enough, Happy is also one of your ‘happy’ songs!).

Do you know every word of these songs? What about dance moves or little almost involuntary glitches for certain parts? Yeah, me neither…I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let’s move on then…

  • Your toddler and parental unit know the dance moves and have the film timed out so that, without being in the same room or paying attention, they can converge on the television and do a disco dance party.

This can’t possibly just be in my house, right? Please somebody tell me that you too have been awakened from a sappy ending coma by your mother and/or child yelling “TIME TO DANCE!” as they run to block your hazy view and proceed to disco dance right there in front of God and everybody like they have no shame at all.  This can also happen randomly when listening to a radio station that includes songs from the 60s/70s because every once in a while someone plays the BeeGees and BAM! “MY MOVIE MY SONG DANCE DANCE” is being yelled from the back seat. If this has never happened to you, I feel mixed emotions on your behalf.

  • Every day your child searches for the moon. Then he/she tries to grab it. On days when the moon is ‘new’ and not visible for them, they blame Gru and demand we make him give it back again.

Though mostly self-explanatory, if you have never heard a toddler or young child excitedly exclaim “I’ve got the moon” in their best Gru accent while they clutch wildly at the air between then and the moon…I urge you to find the nearest young child that will do such a thing for you (after having a nice conversation with their parents, who you hopefully are quite well acquainted with) and hang out until you hear it. That, my friend, is worth the price of admission. My child, being the creative sort, also likes to draw “big big pictures’ of the moon and then demand Mommy (that’s me) translate her ‘language’ so everyone knows that those scribbles mean “I’ve got it! I’ve Got the Moon!”

Also on this topic, there is a great debate going on in my family as to whether or not the werewolf would have actually turned back into a nekked man when the moon disappeared, since it IS still full even though it was shrunk. So if the rules are ‘full moon’ then they should still apply no matter the size. Just a little extra food for thought (a pre-bonus bonus if you will)

BONUS: You have definitely watched the movie too much when even the DOG has his/her own favorite parts and knows when to come in for them!

The 12 year old Rottie will come in for the beginning of both 1 & 2, then grumbles and leaves around 20-30 minutes in (after Kyle latches on to the coffee shop loot in 1 and after the viewing of the purple rabbit in 2). He then returns for the end of 1…and more notably, for the attack of the chicken booby trap in 2 (then he leaves and returns for the EPIC MINION MELEE).

Phew! Did I leave anything out?  Thankfully, my daughter also adores Tinkerbell and Curious George so we get a break. My poor parents had to endure hours upon hours of Jem and the Holograms (I have no idea why my kid won’t sit through that with me, I still have my VHS tape from when I was 2 and NETFLIX even put it on the KIDS site!) But really, I can’t complain about re-watching movies all of the time. I did that long before I had a child and you know what else? I may or may not have watched the 2nd one during her ‘rest’ time last week….without her to be my ‘reason’ for sitting through the whole thing and laughing at every joke.

“Because I’m HAPPY!”

Toddler Quotes

There are many lovely things that happen with the “terrible” two era. One of those things, at least in my house, happens to be a plethora of quotables to keep my daughter embarrassed well through her teens and beyond.

Here, for your reading pleasure, are the contenders for this week’s top spot:

1) on the occasion of explaining a red mark on her neck
Monkey – “Jesse hit me”
Me (Mom) – “why?”
Monkey – “I don’t know. Jesse hit me.”
Gaga (grandma) – “what did you do to Jesse?”
Monkey (exaggerated and very Southern) – OH NO! MY PONY FALLED DOWN!”

2) when choosing a cd in the car
I hold up Jimmy Buffett and Taylor Swift. She almost always wants Taylor Swift. Not this time! The reason? Jimmy Buffett’s case is yellow with red writing which, according to Monkey, makes it Curious George and The Man’s favorite cd. Or in her words “Jooge and the Hat’s music”


3) Gaga – “which button is the mute?”
Monkey – “the one that says MUTANT!”

Bonus – uh oh wait Mommy the monsters are coming…THE MONSTERS! (FYI-she’s talkin Monsters Inc. and we have to let them catch up most of the time. Though she randomly decides to play scared…I guess of Randal)

Do you have a favorite toddler saying? Want to vote on one of these? Just wanted to stop by and say hello? Leave a comment and let me know!

Have a blessed week!IMG_0934.JPG

Princess Power Nap and the Crib Creeper

As you read this please do me the favor of keeping two things in mind:

1) I just finished this first draft so I know that it takes a bit longer than a children’s story should. Any suggestions are appreciated (though may not be taken!)

2) I want to turn this in to a picture book type of story but don’t usually write for that age group!


Thank you and please enjoy Princess Power Nap and The Crib Creeper


Aithne is your typical toddler; early to rise, late to sleep, and energetic all the day through. She loves to play and slide at the park and no matter where she goes, Aithne takes Silly the Clown doll and Bongo the monkey with her. Even though she is a smart and lovable little girl, no one ever suspects the truth about the sweet little ball of fire. The truth is Aithne is Princess Power Nap, the most powerful force for good in all of Babydom!


“Aithne, time to lay down,” The Queen…known to the world as Mommy, won’t hear of letting her play just one more time. “One more turns into ten more and it’s bedtime before you ever get a nap!”

Waving bye bye to her scattered playthings, Aithne gives in easily and runs to settle onto Mommy’s lap, she had read the signal in Bongo’s face and knew it was time for work. These things have to be timed carefully though, because no one can know who Princess Power Nap is, not even the woman in charge.

As soon as the door clicks behind Mommy, Aithne’s dream self leaps up and whips on her purple and green cape. A formidable opponent in her tiara and tights, Princess Power Nap is ready to face down whatever bad guys are bombarding Babydom. With Silly, the clown doll who never blinks, to keep an eye out for nightmares, and Bongo, the big eyed buffoon, ready to pounce on perps, Princess Power Nap marches through the doors of the Crib Castle and flies off to locate this new disturber of dreams.

The problem, however, is not out in the land of Babydom, but right there hidden in the corner of her very own castle…the Crib Creeper! (bum bum BAAA).

Rubbing his hands together sinisterly, the Creeper begins to tip toe around Princess Power Nap’s high class high rise of a castle, admiring the dark wood paneling and cute artwork on the walls. Everywhere he touched, things began to ooze, melting together or changing size and shape. Pictures of favorite book characters begin to melt into multi-hued puddles on the plushly carpeted floor, pony statues begin to twist and kick until they no longer resemble themselves, no one’s shadow is doing its job, and still the Crib Creeper continues to do his. You see, the Creeper is hides in a child’s half-sleep, causing them to see those things that, in the light of day, aren’t really there. Delighting in destroying her home base, The Crib Creeper is so engrossed in his work that it is too late to run when Princess Power Nap lands in front of him, Bongo creeping up to shout his sonic buffoon boom and knock the Creeper back onto a partially melted bean bag chair. Princess Power Nap quickly tied the melted strands of a doll’s hair around the mischief maker to hold him in place.

“Well, well,” She giggled, “It looks like we have a visitor. Sorry the room is such a mess.”

“I love messes,” Creeper sneered, “I love to make them into your worst nightmares!”

“Not today Creeper,” Silly leaned over and stared him down with her unblinking eyes, “I’m watching you and we’re on to your game! Time to clean up!”

Using her dream enhanced Princess Powers, Princess Power Nap snaps her fingers and presents the Crib Creeper with broom and dustpan “Mr. Creeper, around here, we clean up our messes. No one’s Mom picks up in Babydom!”

“I’m not going to pick up my wonderful mess!” Creeper shouts, snarling menacingly at the trio, “You can’t make me!”

“Oh yes I can!” Princess Power Nap flicks her wrist and the bonds around Creeper tighten and turn until he is standing upright, the broom jumping to nestle against his palms. Another wave of her fingers and The Crib Creeper’s arms begin to swing back and forth, tidying up the mess he had made.

With every twitch of the broom’s bristles, Creeper fades a little. He now looks like the outline on an unused coloring page. “We might not have to even cage this one!” Bongo whispers excitedly to the Princess. As soon as his words hit the air, an alarm begins to rock the crib.

“Princess Hurry! Your mom is on her way here!” Silly squeals, twirling her ponytail to create a tightly woven cage for Creeper keeping. “You must return now!”

One last hurried flick throws Crib Creeper into the cage before Princess Power Nap grabs her friends and flies out of the crib’s lid, her tiara falling to the floor moments before the cape gently wafts onto the couch.  The Creeper had just enough power left to throw a ball after his nemesis as she flies home to the waking world.


Naptime’s Over!

“It’s been incredibly quiet today,” Mommy muses, wondering down the hallway. “Maybe I should check on Aithne and make sure everything is ok.”

Nudging her daughter’s door open, Mommy hears a *THUMP* and giggles before nudging open the door as Aithne groans and says in her little girl pitch, “Mommy, I stuck!”

Crib Creeper had managed to hit knock her over into the crib bars, her little legs hang dangling on the outside of the bed. But Mommy knows what to do, they don’t crown you the Queen for nothing after all! Quicker than you can say ramalamadingdong Aithne Grace and all of her friends are freed from the bars and set loose to roam the halls…keeping both worlds safe for everyone!


The Next Generation

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My Monkey setting up for another day of arduous creating. Apparently this story was about Tinkerbell and the dog who sniffed flowers with butter.

My almost 2 year old daughter loves to draw and scribble in her Tinkerbell notebook. If you ask her about it she will go on and on about her work, usually yelling Bell Bell or talking about George and Minions in the few words you can understand. And at some point she will say ‘Like Momma’.

Like Momma, she carries a notebook just about everywhere she goes.(In fact, since her Happy Meals started handing out notebooks she may have MORE than I do). Like Momma, she sometimes only needs to scribble for a moment and sometimes she’s bent over the book for hours. Like Momma, she babbles somewhat incoherently at people if they interrupt her flow or she seems ‘stuck’ in her story.

A BIG part of me is proud that my daughter looks up to me, even though I’m sure that its mostly because she sees me all day everyday. I am proud of her creativity and interest in reading and writing. She isn’t quite 2 (we’re 3 months out from her birthday) but she is already fairly advanced (the hazards of her parent and grandparents all being teachers I suppose). I hope and pray that she keeps this curiosity and zeal as she grows up. That she retains the ‘weird’ and ‘quirk’ that makes up her joy right now and doesn’t let anyone tell her otherwise.

But do I want her to be a writer?

That is a tough question. I love writing. I adore putting my colored inks on blank paper and making the designs that pull a story from the air and my brain (same thing, right) and coalescing it in a form many will read. Most of the time I even enjoy the late night inability to sleep because I’m writing, or the jerking from a dead sleep at 3am because my subconscious finally figured out a piece of the story. I also make no money, have a tendency to block out people for days or weeks at a time while I write, get super mean if I can’t just sit and write when the mood hits me (not as much any more…toddlers tend to line out your schedule for you), and am usually tired from working on pieces when I should be asleep.

It has been said that writing is a lonely profession, except for the characters you make for yourself. Do I want my daughter to be lonely and listening to voices in her own head? Do I want her to wake up from a writing stupor and realize that she may have gotten fifteen thousand words written in a day and half, but she hasn’t eaten and hasn’t seen her friends in days? In the mind of a mother, do the pros outweigh the cons? I honestly don’t know at the moment.

The pros are worth more than any amount of cons in my life. If I don’t write I become irrational, erratic, and difficult to live with. Depression, anxiety, dark moods…they set in pretty quickly if I don’t have projects to think on and scribble out. My books and notebooks are some of my greatest joys, right up there with my kid and my flute. The lack of feedback and reviews on both my blog and my Amazon pages frustrates me to no end, but I wouldn’t stop writing for anything; I couldn’t. Do I want that kind of drive for my daughter….YES, YES I DO.

Do I want her to wind up a writer…probably not. But I suppose that’s going to be up to her to decide. Isn’t it?



A Writer’s Day Off – OR – Camel Kisses

I have a very creative toddler who loves animals more than just about anything (except for her grandparents…I WISH she would beg for a zebra as much as she asks where her Papa is!) This morning she informed me she wanted to pet a zebra, so we did just that.

After spending most of the week cooped up in the house, I decided to take my daughter to play. There is a sweet little place a few miles outside of town, run by old school mates of mine (as most places in small towns seem to be) and we were feeling adventurous so we headed out there with thoughts of stripes dancing in her head.

OH! What fun was had! There have been several baby goats, and one cute little sheep, birthed in the past few weeks and not only were we allowed to pet them…we got to hold one! My little ‘Monkey’ kissed a Zebra, got kissed by Zebras, Llamas, and a Camel, AND got to climb up and slide down a hay slide. Did I mention the small pen she got to play in with the baby pot-bellied pigs? (Or the rabbits, ducks, chickens, etc.) For myself, I got to take a selfie with the camel…I feel COOL!

I had to move quickly and missed getting her face in the picture 😦 But the Zebras were both nuzzling her at the same time! 😀


Me and Dylan just chillin’


However, I often laugh at myself because of my ‘writerly’ tendencies and today was no different. On the way out to the Menagerie I found myself mentally writing a blog post about driving with toddlers (I should write that sometime!). As we pulled in and parked I looked around the well-kept grounds and saw our first glimpses of the penned animals and began to tell Monkey little pieces of ideas for children’s books with those animals as characters (A potbellied piglet named Pauline who likes to sing anybody??). After we got into the area and began walking around, I caught myself mentally converting what I was seeing into words and then taking those words and building descriptive sentences.

I tried to stop, I really did. I mean honestly, I am pouring my heart into The Stone Dragon Saga and the only animal they have in common with the petting zoo is Passiona’s pet goat (although she did have babies recently…hmm.) Do I have the time between writing book 4 (Dragons in the Deep) while utilizing Camp NaNoWriMo, writing articles for Yahoo! Contributor’s Network, blogging, and playing with Monkey to start working on something else, even something as short as Children’s Picture Book stories? The short answer: No. The answer I’m giving…mmmmaaaayyyybbbeee. I mean, I write a short story once a week for the blog anyway, right? *Insert crazy grin here*. We shall see what happens.

In any case, whether or not I ever get around to writing those stories, I got kissed by a camel, a goat, a zebu, and a donkey AND I hand fed an Emu..that’s right, AN EMU. (And I didn’t scream when that beak came down, snaps for Beth.)

As I watch my daughter grow and change, these small moments when I pushed the characters aside and focused on fun with her will be ever more important. I may definitely be a writer for life, but for an hour or two today, I was a mommy living life…and it felt good.





Birthday Trees

I bought my Dad a tree for his birthday. When most people hear that, they look at me like I’m insane. A tree? Really? Yes, a crape mysrtle Red Rocket sapling that is gorgeous and will provide much shade and beautiful flowers for us over the next several years. However, in the process of an impromptu day trip to visit my aunt (finally got our Christmas presents!), taking care of the toddler, and helping Dad plant…I haven’t written much over the past few days. My camp word count so far is stuck just below 2,000 and is not wavering as of yet.

If I look at the stark numbers of this, I become depressive and wonder why in the world I would want to do Camp NaNo when I’m already doing NaNoWriMo in November. But if I think of it as a tree, who’s leaves fall to the ground and who’s branches dry and wither and yet still comes back the next year, bigger, stronger, and prettier than ever before…if I think of it like that, then I look forward to my spare few minutes of writing time that I know I will steal away tomorrow. And I watch for those red flowers slowly coming into bloom.


Vegan Butter

Have you ever wondered about people who choose to be vegan, or vegetarian? Have you ever looked at the ever growing popularity of those two life choices, and their corresponding menu options, and thought to yourself, “These people are crazy!”? I have, a lot.

As it turns out, I am learning more about plant based proteins, and fake meat, than I ever would have imagined I would need to know. You see, my mother has, among other things, a medical condition that causes her to have…shall we say, issues digesting meat proteins. It can get pretty ugly. So over the past few years, we have slowly found substitute meals that can provide the right balance of vitamins and proteins, without driving the rest of the meat eating lot (namely, my dad and I) to crazy run out in the street and bite random living things drastic measures. Basically, we cook a lot of soy and bean based things for her.

I have said all of that, to tell you a story RIPPED from the headlines of my life. Dateline: This Morning:

First, soy plants grow like this:


Then, soy beans are harvested and look like this:


Then, the harvested soy beans go through all kinds of processes etc to be turned into ingredients for things like this:


All so that when my 18 month old decides to run into the kitchen, I can ask a series of questions that go like this:
“Are you in dog’s water?”


“Don’t get in the cabinet. Are in the Cabinet?”


“Are you pulling things off of the shelves?”


“What are you doing?”

“yummy, um um um”

My daughter, who is entirely too tall and prone to curiosity (I stupidly encouraged the Curious George phase, which is going on about 18 months now. Silly Monkey), has found the vegan butter in whichever stack of things we had it stashed. In the minute or less that it took for me to get across the room and into the kitchen, she had pulled the lid off of the butter and was, you guessed it, licking her butter dipped fingers. The good news is that it really does actually taste like a butter spread. The bad news is that my kid got the butter on my glasses trying to fight to grab the container back from me.

The finger raked box o’ butter is in the refrigerator.


It is after midnight. I’ve been fighting with my daughter for hours, unable to lay her in the crib (or even readjust my position on the couch) without those big eyes immediately popping open and staring at me reproachfully. When I eventually bit the bullet and laid her down anyway, she cried and said ‘Mommy’ in that helpless little voice, so that I had to stand next to her bed and allow her to stare at me. She didn’t want me to rub her back or to sing (I know why…there is a reason I played in the band instead of choir). Finally, I walked out to get a drink, ‘Be quiet, I’ll be back soon.” Not soon enough, but it was a start. In the end, I just stayed out and ‘shhed’ from the next room.

The house is silent now, even the cat has given up her races for the night. The kid might actually be asleep. It is possible that she drifted off despite her best efforts, and maybe we’ll get to sleep in tomorrow. It is also possible, and much more probable, that she is laying silently in her bed, just waiting for a half thought of sigh of relief, or the tiniest inaudible squeak of a box spring to tell her that I am in my own bed and, therefore, must need to get up and get her again.


(cuter than my actual cat..who is kind of scary)

My life

I am a single mother. I do not receive child support, my child has never met the ‘other side’, and probably will never knowingly meet them. This is not how I imagined things would go. I never thought my fiancé would deny us and beg to have nothing to do with his daughter, but these things happened. I never thought that I would be living in my parent’s house at the age of 28, chasing a toddler and struggling to set up an online persona for my writing and my handmade items store; but this my life. I am blessed in that I have somewhere to be, a family that took us in when I couldn’t support myself, let alone an infant, on the salary I made as a waitress. I don’t know how other women do it with no support at all.

Yes there are days when I worry that my daughter will have problems because she only has one parent. Yes there are times when I wish I had someone to take a turn with at 2am because my toddler is breaking in new teeth. Yes, every day is a struggle, even now when I am ‘used’ to being a single mother living with her parents (can you ever really get used to that??).

However, everything happens for a reason…right? We now live back in the town where I attended high school and parts of college. I have new friends, and some old, that I can turn to, whereas the ‘friends’ I had when I got pregnant have all but turned their backs on me because I’m ‘tied down’ with a baby now. I haven’t been on a date in over two years, probably closer to three, but that isn’t really important in the grand scheme of things. Not when I have my sweet baby to snuggle me while she doesn’t take a nap.

Now maybe you know a little more about me. I hope that any of you who may need an ear, know that you can at least leave a comment for me!

May all of your frustrations lead to great accomplishments, and may you always remember that problems lead to solutions, and pain can lead to hope. Have a Blessed Day!

The Need to Learn

After the fourth time I watched my daughter drop, and therefor open, her ‘big girl’ sippy cup I started to tell her that she needs ‘to learn.’  But learn what exactly; consequences, reactions, rules?? That is EXACTLY what she is learning! Each and every time that lid popped off she changed and rearranged her methods before starting all over again.

So then, since she is learning universal truths each and every time that she experiments with these things, perhaps it is not my fifteen month old who ‘needs to learn.’ Maybe, just maybe, its me.

Maybe I should be stockpiling good paper towels and teaching her clean up methods instead of freaking out and immediately sopping up her messes. It is possible that I should be setting aside times to do artwork and nifty experiments with her (colored bubbles anyone?). More than any of that though, perhaps I need to stop and take a moment to enjoy the beautiful order that arises even out of this chaos.

See that pile of food on the floor? It is a butterfly…and we have dogs!

May you all be blessed enough to spend time with a toddler, and if not, make some bubbles just because you can! Have a blessed day!