Saturday, August 29, 2009


To pass the time (It's raining) and since TG has run out of pjs, I decided to do her laundry.

I live in an apartment. Doing laundry entails lugging it down to the basement and hoping that 1) a washer is available and 2) I have money on my laundry card.

Nowadays it also includes 3) TG is not sleepy and can handle being downstairs in the humidity.

Since TG is mobile and the idea of her crawling on the basement floor terrifies me, I pack her in her radio flyer wagon with a few of her friends a couple of toys.

TG loves her wagon. I mean she hearts her wagon.

So today, after changing her clothes, sorting her dirty clothes, packing the laundry basket, stopping to change her diaper again, stopping to feed her again, stopping to let her rest (She went to her bed and sat there which a cue she wants some downtime or a nap.), packing the wagon with toys, finding the laundry card and searching for my keys (TG likes to play with my keys) I was ready to go downstairs to do her load of laundry.

I dragged her wagon out the door while TG played in the kitchen to avoid pull her fully packed wagon over the door jam.

TG took this as a sign I was leaving without her and tried valiantly to walk/run to me and her wagon. Unfortunately, her mind was faster than her body as she's still taking baby steps.

This is what I hear in the kitchen, "Mama! Ahh!" Pitter Pat Splat!. "Waaahhh!"