Mama Doesn't Blog Like She Used To...

Here is a photo of the number one reason that I do not write as much as I would like.  I  have this precocious little helper.  She is ready to start her own blog since she is familiar with the workings of a PC and she is all full of self-awareness.  Allow me to 'splain and digress...  Earlier this week, Sophia and I almost lost our minds with excitement since, while reading a story called Peekaboo Park, our Lili identified herself by name for the first time.  Allow me to digress again.  Peekaboo Park is one of our favorite stories for several reasons:

• It is a very short story, and therefore, perfect for someone with the attention span of a gnat or a toddler. 
• Page two's lift-the-flap reveals "A Buzzing Bee," and gives Lili a chance to perform her first-class impression of a bee who zooms around buzzing, "Wee wee wee wee wee..." 
• The other flaps offer pleasant opportunities for quacking and ribbiting when lifted; always a good thing. 
• The final flap reveals a mirror and a "happy baby" who always proves to be a completely hilarious character.  

So earlier this week, when we read it and arrived at that final lift-the-flap, Lili jabbed a pudgy little finger at her reflection in the mirror and cooed, "LILI!!"  Her mother and sister, who were enjoying story time as much as she was, almost leaped out of the story chair and squealed with delighted surprise.  To be honest, I think we may have freaked her out a little.  Our wee lass knows her name, and I suppose she should since it is likely the most common word spoken at our house.... even though there are all of those times I get confused and call her "Sophie."  (I am slowly but surely turning into my grandmother, Gladys.)

So... back to my original point... I know that there will never be perfect writing conditions, but this month seems to have been particularly hairy.  We've had lots of sleepless nights, snotty noses and unsettled tummies.   Additionally I now apparently have to compete with this little leprechaun for the use of my computer.  Anytime that I write during Lili's waking hours (which happens to be MOST of the hours in the day), I know that something naughty is happening in another room.  Perhaps all of Emma's underpants have been pulled out of her drawer, or maybe Sophia's cache of Valentine candy has been compromised, but if I don't have her directly in my sights, I know that girl is up to some sort of mischief.  Writing can be a precarious business.  At this very moment, Boo Bear has just wandered out of the office and into her sister's bedroom with a rascally gleam in her eye.  I had better dash.

Yikes!  Was that the sound of an entire box of Legos being dumped in the toilet?