Notavirus

I don't think Asher's run on diapers yesterday (pun intended) was a virus.  It ended yesterday, and he just wasn't miserable like all the other folks I've heard complaining.  Here's the hypothesis that hit me today:  molasses.  I was mixing up some gingerbread man dough early yesterday morning so that we could make cookies with friends who came for a playdate, and when I went to answer the door and finally made it back to the kitchen Asher had pushed the stepstool over to the mixer and showed me a brown mouth full of dough, and he was covered...who knows how much he ingested.  Just an idea.

Today's one of those days...a GREAT one, and I just mull over the fact that there's no way I can preserve the joy exactly as it is.  I suppose there will always be new joy, but I liked today's wonderfulness so much.  Not just today, but every day, Asher is the sweetest thing on two legs.  He is SO JOYFUL and loves life.  OK, he whines with the best of them, but under that is a very flexible and giggly fellow...finally, I know what 'they' mean when they say ignore a tantrum.  Asher gets over 'em fast.  He is a food hound.  I have rarely seen the like of his homing beacon on all things caloric (except perhaps my own...hmm).  But bedtime is my favorite.  He babbles away while we read some books and pray and sing, and then he happily lays down in his crib and babbles away up at me.  His current routine is to say baba (blanket) and I drape it over him, he pats it on his tummy and giggles.  Then he wants high fives.  Lots of them.  He holds up his hands and says, 'Hi!' and bats at mine as many times as I let him, laughing all the while.  Then we blow kisses for a while, I snuggle up Mr. Moo Cow next to him, and as I walk away saying 'Night-night Asher' he is babbling about something and chuckling lightly about his jokes, or he mimics me and says 'Ni-ni' all the way til I close the door.  What bliss!  All the pains of parenthood are worth these moments (and even the mommy belly).

On another note, tonight as I was putting Owen to bed he was putting up various fusses and didn't want to be left alone.  I had to get a little tough to gain compliance with the bedtime plan.  As I'm trying to get out the door and saying, "Owen, that's enough.  Let's have bedtime the easy way" with a stern-ish voice, Owen says, "Mommy, don't get short with me."  Then, there is silence and an awkward grin on his lips and he waits and sees how that's going to go over.  A pause from me as well, as I consider where on earth he has heard this (not from me...that's not one of my phrases).  Then I say, "Where did you hear THAT??" and he just breaks up laughing and I do too.  As I now head out the door for good he says, "But mommy, I really mean that.  You shouldn't have a mean voice like that!"  From the mouths of babes!

Off to make Christmas cookies for a party tomorrow.