Twas the night before…

decorated cups

Twas the night before the Great Big Green Birthday Party, oh what a sight. The house is all set up for squeezing guests tight. The hostess is sleepy and she nods to the right. Will everything be ready? Can she turn off the light? Not yet she mumbles deep into the night. A post must be written, how fast can she type?

Soup cups have been covered with fancy green paper. The craft table is ready with supplies galore. Will it be too much for thirteen young toddlers? Will they eat the pom poms and pour glue on the floor? Tis likely, says the hostess with no sign of distress. Who cares about carpet, it’s already a mess!

The puppet show is ready. The scenes have been painted. What fun did they have, Rapunzel and she. “Should we make the castle orange? Would that be a fright? We ran out of white paint. Oh what a night! We wanted pink but orange is nice too. No matter how much light yellow you add to dark red it does not turn rosy if you mix till you’re dead.” So the hostess and the young artist talked on through the night not rehearsing the show but creating such a sight.

Rapunzel, the artist

“So elaborate!” said Toby, his face lined with stress. “Do you realize even wealthy people don’t throw parties like this? How much have you spent? Have you drained our accounts?” The hostess shakes her head. “I promise! No checks will bounce.” Budgets have been minded. She skimped and she saved. She may not wear J.Crew but her parties rage.

exploding frog soap packaging

Favors and prizes have been wrapped up with care. There’s something for everyone and lots left to share. Exploding-frog soap is sure to be a hit. Imagine their eyes when they see this bit. Green glycerine frogs, simple as can be, but when put in water they turn all bubbly! Green melts to pink and pink turns to fizz. This is serious shizz in the soap-making biz. Don’t ask the hostess for the recipe though, she bought them on etsy a whole month ago!

explosing frog soap

Tap tappity tap tap she wraps up the night. The hostess must sleep now, it’s after midnight.

My Little Beach Girl

My Little Beach Girl

Baby Bug and I walk down to the beach nearly every day. Most days we just stand there at the water’s edge and sigh. We watch the waves crash for a few minutes and then we head back up the hill to home because it’s almost her bedtime. But lately when we stand on the beach, she has been waving her arms up and down excitedly. She jumps up and down inside the carrier by pushing off me with her legs. Since I’m a sucker for a happy baby, I’ve been taking her out of the carrier and letting her “walk” on the wet sand.

She loves it! She just plain loves “walking” in general. She can’t really walk, she doesn’t have her balance yet. But she loves it when I hold her hands and she can use her legs to take steps. She take high steps like a soldier. It’s very funny to watch, just ask Whoorl. She walked a bunch when we were over there visiting Anders the other day.

When we’re at the beach “walking,” Baby Bug leans forward in eagerness and sometimes backwards because her legs are going faster than I can keep up. She loves the waves. She has no fear. She just wants to run out into them. Today I let her go all the way to the frothy small waves lapping on the shore. She squealed in delight. She is so joyful right now, it’s contageous. I love this stage.

I love it that she loves the beach. She really is my dream baby come true.

* * *

Since I promised, here is my attempt to write a pantuom for my Grandma. I usually like writing poetry but for some reason I’m not getting the trick of this form. I think I must be misunderstanding the rules. By the last quatrain I’m forgetting where I am. But I also read that you shouldn’t try too hard to make it work, so this is me trying hard not to try too hard.

The ocean waves glisten in the golden sunset air
Foam decorates the water’s edge like lace upon a dress
My daughter smiles from ear to ear as closer we draw near
Her little toes wiggle back and forth in blissful eagerness

Foam decorates the water’s edge like lace upon a dress
Reminding me of summer days from many a yesteryear
Her little toes wiggle back and forth in blissful eagerness
Laughter blows into the wind like whispers in my ear

Reminding me of summer days from many a yesteryear
I think of white sundresses with spaghetti straps or less
Laughter blows into the wind like whispers in my ear
Taunting me with stories and secrets to confess

Her little toes wiggle back and forth in blissful eagerness
She is looking at the water, unlike me she has no fear
She kicks me as she’s fastened in her harness on my chest
The ocean waves glisten in the golden sunset air