Thea and I went to the Portland Children's Museum today for Dance Together, a chaotic scarf-waving toddler class, the last of four sessions which we paid for months ago and were never able to attend until today... haha they have a cancellation/refund policy that I didn't bother to look at until just now... um, anyway, Thea peed her pants and I didn't check the diaper bag before we left so I didn't notice that there was not a change of clothes in there like there has been everysingleday for her whole freakin life. I have been hauling around a hulkinghuge bag packed for every possible contingency none of which were ever realized until today. That is probably not exactly true. Still.
Instructing toddlers is the height of futility so really, the parents (the moms actually because really, in the infant massage classes, and new moms groups and Tiny Tots at the library and MOPS (mothers of preschoolers) at the park, and Science Tots... all these baby group attenders are moms at a ratio of 10:1, with the one in ten dad being a sorta oversensitive stay-at-home sissy type HAHAHA JUST KIDDING!) anyway, the moms are dancing around trying to demonstrate nose-touching and hand clapping and the babies are like YOUAREFREAKINGMEOUT JUST PICK ME UP PLZ.
Sometimes they hit each other, sometimes they scream and run in circles, they put whatever they can in their mouths and often they spend some time just staring at the overly enthusiastic group leader. Once and awhile they try to bite her talking puppet hand. ANYWAY, Thea gawked and gamely held onto a FOAM DANCING NOODLE, but by the middle of it was overstimulated and refused to be put down. I can oblige a little baby pee so I just held her on my hip as we hopped on rubber squares and choo-choo followed-the-leader.
Then, because we skipped nap time to attend she was in a foul little mood and chased Owen around beating him with the green and sliver pinwheel that I bought her as we were leaving, which I swear is the exactly same toy it was when I was a kid. Poor Owen. I usually make him sit and take her attentions because she gets such a kick out of him scampering away, and dude, I can't think of anything more dangerous then a kid determined to chase down and torture a dog that towers over her. So Owen takes the petting, terribly put-out about it, but without his histrionics the fun is ruined for Thea, which is my job I guess and she wanders off to stuff the mail slot with tupperware lids. Except when she actually hits then hotdamn she gets scooped up by her armpits and deposited into a minute long timeout purgatory. Even for a fairly painless pinwheel beating.
That is what I did today. Plus laundry, a sassy lentil-barley soup and six miles in the afternoon heat.
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