I picked her up early from daycare on Friday, but I happened to get there right at snack time. Zuzu came running over to me and wanted to give me a hug, but when she realized we were getting ready to leave, she wiggled in my arms and reached for her teacher. I handed her over so I could gather her things to leave, but then she started fussing. She did not want me; she didn't want her teacher to hold her, either. She wanted to sit at the table so she could have her snack.
We discussed the possibility of wrapping up Zuzu's pie and taking it to go, but she was getting pretty insistent about wanting snack (she and her friend Maggie were whining pretty obnoxiously while the other children sat quietly). So I shrugged, told her teacher I'd be back after snack time, and I left and ran a couple of errands.
Fortunately she was glad to see me when I returned, so I tried not to let it hurt my feelings too much. And the apple pie (fresh from the oven) did smell really good.
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My parents came up this weekend and Zuzu had a blast playing with them. Each time they are here, she has more and more fun. Perhaps because this time they brought her a tent and a kid-sized table and chairs and two dolls? And then they proceed to be totally available and willing to do whatever her heart desires. Want to be pushed in the Cozy Coupe? Done! Want to have a tea party in your tent? Done!
So she rides the Grammy-and-Gramps high for forty-eight hours, and then we basically have to detox after they leave. It's not like we ignore her, but Mommy and Daddy are not nearly as fun as the grandparents. Life is much harder after Grammy and Gramps go home. For all of us!
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Sherwin Williams is having a 40% off paint sale starting September 20th. My living room is getting repainted. David is not thrilled about this, but it has to be done. I am determined. Color is still somewhat TBD but it will be less of a gray and more of a greige. Thrilling, I know.
I also might splurge for a quart of paint for the backdoor. Votes for color are kind of inspiring me. Maybe I'll go for kind of a wine-red? Pinot noir? Mmm. Sounds good.
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I pulled out some fall decorations today. I like putting up fall decorations. I can remember as a kid getting super excited to put up seasonal and holiday decorations at home, and I want to create similar memories for Zuzu. I love all the stuff people love about fall--jeans, boots, hot drinks, cool evenings, pumpkin patches, and chili, but there's also a trepidation that comes with this season. Fall decorations mean that winter will follow and before I know it, the cold dark days will be an unwelcome reminder of the coldest, darkest days of my grief. And then it will be December and that month will find me not planning a third birthday party but bundling up to stand outside in the dark and light a candle for my other daughter--the one who doesn't get to celebrate Christmas with us, the one who's not here to get excited about pumpkins and black cats. Seasons change but I never stop missing her and it never stops sucking.
But I do have some sparkly pumpkins on my mantle. Zuzu and I both like sparkly pumpkins. Sparkly pumpkins for the win.
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Little Mac joined my parents for this weekend visit. We usually pay for them to board her when they come here, but this time I said they could just bring and we'd see how she did. She had no accidents inside, but I think that's mostly because the weather was so nice she enjoyed being outside. If it had been cold or hot or rainy, it probably would have been a different story. She got groomed while she was here so she left looking spiffy and she was out of our way for the greater part of Saturday, which was nice. Zuzu found her quite amusing but didn't mess with her too much. Still, between the baby terrorist and the many sets of stairs, it was clear to all of us that Mac's living situation with my parents is the best solution for everyone (except, perhaps, my parents!).
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You guys. Brace yourselves. I don't think I'm going to make my Read 100 Books This Year goal.
I know. Sad, isn't it?
But in retrospect, doesn't that goal seem kind of absurdly ambitious? Why didn't I make it my goal to read 50 books this year? Or 52? A book a week. Doesn't that sound impressive? Instead I had to get all super goal setting and crazy and say ONE HUNNERT BOOKS and now I'm at this place where I can read 50 books this year and still be only HALFWAY to my goal. 50% is an F, in case you were wondering. Ugh.
I've read 49 books as of today. Not too shabby, really. Until you consider that we are halfway through September--the NINETH month of the year--which means I have read less than half the books I am supposed to read and I have only 3 months to read 50 more books. Actually 51. I'm a fast reader, but there is NO WAY.
Plus I'm participating in NaNoWriMo again this year (I flunked out in 2011 but I swear that was only because I was newly pregnant with Zuzu and could not stay awake later than 8:30pm ever). This year the English department at my university is making it our thing and having write-ins at the campus coffee shop, so I'm planning to participate again, which is great, but leaves little time for reading.
The lesson here is that reading books is great but I can't be as ambitious as certain blogger-friends I know.
My revised goal is 60 books. If I read eleven more books in the next two and a half months, I'll call it good. It's a D-. That's passing.
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I also packed away a few of Zuzu's summer clothes this weekend, and pulled out cute stuff for fall. I've said before that I will never lament how fast she's growing up because I'm so eager for her to reach the next stage, to be here and alive and growing and excited about reading books beyond Good Night, Moon and I Am A Bunny (although I do love both those books) and I want to celebrate all her milestones since I've missed out on all those experiences with Eliza.
But you guys. I get weirdly sentimental about clothing (just as David about the bin of t-shirts I can't bear to part with) and it kinda kills me to know that I'll pack away these sundresses and rompers and they may never get worn again--they certainly won't fit Zuzu next summer!
At least she has plenty of adorable clothes to grow into, thanks to darling hand-me-downs from our friend F. That helps ease my growing pains.
I do adore Toddler Zuzu--her determination and her enthusiasm and her hilarious faces, but I do miss Baby Zuzu and her snuggles and quiet contentedness. And you know I love a girl in a summer romper.