See How They Run

I must say that I am a lucky Mom. I have three beautiful girls, and the last one is so sweet and happy that even a stingy baby dis-liker like me can savor the moment and say things like, "I wish she could stay like this forever," and, "I could just sit here and hold her and kiss her all day." I used to hear things like this and think What in the world are they talking about? Okay, y'all. I get it. I'm converted. Just don't spread it around because it feels very un-like me, and I don't want to completely over-haul my image here.

The other day I was awakened around 3 AM, as is our routine, to Anne giggling. Usually she just wimpers quietly until I come feed her, but this was a full on laugh fest. She was so loud that I had to book it into her room before she woke anyone up. Then she did it again a few nights later. What was so funny alone in the dark? Does she find herself hilarious, or are there comic angels watching over her? I don't know, but, my, what joy she brings into our house.


Bearing this in mind, I did something unthinkable to my little sweetheart. I was planting peas last week while Ty sorted out the sprinkler hoses in our garden boxes. I had Anne sitting pleasantly in the early morning shade behind the house, probably dozing in and out happily or cooing at the bugs. I don't know. Honestly, I wasn't paying that much attention to her.

Once the garden was all set, Ty and I went into the garage to test the irrigation. "Turn it to station four." "How many minutes do you want it to run?" yada yada yada, and then the terrible aweful... Alli comes running around the house yelling, "Mom, you're giving Anne a bath!"

I have never run so fast. That's actually not saying much, but anyway, I ran fast. Anne was in her bouncer drenched, looking around frantically, and taking quick intakes of air as the water droplets beaded up on her face. Her socks were even soaked. Apparantly the garden station runs in the back flower bed as well... Who knew? To her credit, though, as cold and wet as she was, she didn't cry until I started stripping off her clothes.

I put on her fluffiest fluffys, wrapped her in a big blanket, and fed her some. Then I sent her off to peaceful slumber where she spent the rest of the morning safely in her crib. Oh, how sad I was. I might not get over it, but I think she's already forgotten about the whole fiasco. Love that little girl.