From The Vault

Dear Laney,

Since we're not together this week, I don't have any new material to share, but I had the idea that I could share some clips n' things that I haven't put on here before.

Case in point: this clip of you from last November that makes me laugh every time I watch it.

It also makes me want to fry Ella a ham sandwich and thank her for letting you keep all your appendages.

Love,

Mom

Super Saturday

Dear Laney,

We had a great family day out yesterday - I wanted to spend as much time with you as possible before my trip, so we went downtown to Caras Park, and you got to play on the enormous castle-themed playground.

I took a picture of myself in the mirrored wall, just to prove that I was there. Shameless, I know, but your dad's not so much into taking pictures. Your dad says he'll take over the blog while I'm gone this week, but... well, I'll just leave it at that.

Then we went out for pizza - your favorite. Even though the rest of Missoula was downtown celebrating St Patrick's Day with a parade, you and your dad were still celebrating Mardi Gras.

Laissez les bon temps rouler,

Mom

Hammer To Pumpkinhead, Over

Dear Laney,

I'm sitting at the airport in Missoula, waiting on my trip to LA, and saying goodbye to you was just as bad as I thought it would be. Maybe worse. I'll be staying with Brian most of the time I'm gone, and apparently his mother Jane has already called him and warned him that he needs to be nice to me - after all, I'll be emotionally distraught the whole time I'm there. Now that Jane has laid the foundation, I'm thinking I can maybe score a sympathy spa treatment out of Brian. Sweet!

I laid out six matching outfits in your room this morning, so Dad will have no trouble getting you ready for school. All in all, I have no doubt that you and your dad will do just fine while I'm gone, and that he will give you the same excellent standard of care that you're used to. Of course, I did have to wonder why your dad started teaching to you communicate via walkie-talkie last night.

Maybe it's a red flag that he thinks you'll be far enough apart that your conversations will need to start with "Breaker, breaker..."

Love,

Mom

Lasagnarama

Dear Laney,

We kicked off the weekend by going to Brooke and Todd's for a delicious lasagna dinner.

You shared your necklaces and your baby doll with Cedar, and even after you stole Cedar's juice, you were willing to give her a sip now and then. This means that Cedar has achieved a rare exalted status in your mind, because normally you don't like people touching your stuff. Either that, or you read the blog last week and agreed that you need to work on your social skills.

As dinner was cooking in the oven, we walked over to the playground at the Alberton School. I was yelling "Laney, stay out of the puddles!," right as I tripped into a puddle and got ice-cold water all over my shoes and pants. Sometimes, I think I should hire a dude with a trombone just to follow me around and make that waaah, waaah... sound.

Back at the house, I got my camera out, and you decided that you wanted to be the one taking pictures of Cedar. I kind of dig your photography style - it's so in-your-face, you almost feel like you're thisclose.

Cedar has a trunk of "vintage" toys that we got to play with, and I found myself studying a Cabbage Patch Doll and wondering what all the fuss had been about. To any and all of my parents who may have camped out in front of a toy store in the winter of 1984 to bring me home one of those dolls...geez, I'm sorry.

Love,

Mom

I Love You. Don't Touch Me.

Dear Laney,

You went on a berry binge tonight, and your dad said, "This is going to give my mom deja vu. Most of my childhood, I was covered in berries and dirt and God knows what else."

Great. Another way you're a mini-Thor. I'll add another check mark to that column, in between "obsessed with rocks" and "not big on conversation."

Love,

Mom

Take Good Care Of My Baby

Dear Laney,

As you may already know, I'm going away next week for work, and will be in LA for five days (a.k.a. That Week That Mom Spent With Andre, The Brazilian Underwear Model).

You will be going to school in the mornings, and Dad will be picking you up after lunch, and he swears that everything will be fine. I have stocked the fridge with your favorite foods so Dad won't have to cook, and I've warned your teacher that you may be making some fashion faux pas next week. While everything seems fine n' dandy on paper, it doesn't mean that I'm not agonizing over leaving you for so long.

Peg Peg tries to make me feel better in conversations like this:

Brooke: I don't think I can leave her for so long. We've never been separated for more than a night.

Peg: She won't remember it.

Brooke: But...

Peg: Do you remember that time I dropped you off at Granny Jack's because I needed a mental health break 'cause you just would...not...shut...up?

Brooke: No.

Peg: See? It'll be fine.

Yeah, a lot of your grandmother's pep talks leave me with this look on my face:

In happier news, I've decided to run with the "Take Good Care of My Baby" theme, and I've put together a little highlight reel of some of my favorite moments you've spent with your baby doll. You know, the one I promised to put together back in November.

Love you oodles,

Mom

We're Lean, Mean, and Full Of Caffeine

Dear Laney,

Yes, yes, the Health Department would be appalled, but that's neither here nor there. Also, I'm anticipating a phone call that will go something like this:

- Why isn't that young'un wearing any PANTS?

- Because she had just gotten up from her nap, and I asked her if she wanted to put on pants, and she said "no."

- Sigh.

Yesterday, I had a little time on my hands, and decided that it wasn't enough that I had trained you to run the dishwasher. We needed a new challenge! A new goal! Another job you could take off my hands!

So I taught you to make coffee.

Oh, what a big precious disaster it was.

Because it's what good parents do, your dad and I drank your coffee this morning, with lots of "MMmm"s and "Ooohh"s and "Yummy"s. And we congratulated you on being such an excellent barista... that is, when our mouths weren't otherwise occupied chewing all those coffee grounds that didn't quite make it into the filter. Mmm, tasty!

Five hours later, and my hands are still a little shaky and I can barely put together a coherent sentence. Nicely done.

Love,

Mom

Here's A Tip

Dear Laney,

Last night, we went to a fundraising dinner benefitting the Children's "Museum" at Scotty's Table. Our choices for dinner were hamburger or hamburger. You would think that a restaurant that was anticipating dozens of children would maybe offer a children's menu option. Or booster chairs. Or juice. Or drinking straws. Alas, no.

But we made the most of sharing our half of a two-person table (read: you got to stand up and eat all my fries), and when it came time to settle up, you were only too happy to figure out the gratuity and sign the bill.

After dinner, we went for a walk around downtown to officially let Missoula know that the legwarmer is on its way back, people.

Love,

Mom

Outsourcing

Dear Laney,

I was reading another mom's blog the other day that was chock-full of tips on Montessori-style learning activities you can do with your child. I admire it. I applaud it. I don't have time for it this week.

Around here, we're so busy these days that we don't have time for any of that "pure learning" that the hippies at the University like to talk about. No, here at Chez Burbach, we're all about applied knowledge.

So, I took your number stickers and put them over the buttons on our dishwasher normally labeled "Normal Cycle" and "Start." You were already able to put in the soap pellet, close the soap dispenser, and shut the big dishwasher door. Now you're able to run the dang thing, too.

Up with learning! Everybody wins!

Now, let's go downstairs and talk about the dryer.

Love,

Mom

Building A Better Mousetrap. And Flotation Device. And Sled.

Dear Laney,

The summer before you were born, your dad decided to build a contraption that would turn your basic inner tube into a one-man pontoon boat. "Yes," he thought, "What our float trips have been missing is an inner tube with a deck and a place to store a cooler!" He worked on designing and building that thing for days. At one point, I remember him googling the Pythagorean Theorem to figure out how long the cross pieces should be. When it came time for its inaugural sail down the Clark Fork, it capsized in the first thirty seconds. Credit where credit is due, your uncle Nate never once laughed at your dad out loud.

Then, your dad decided to build a professional-quality dog sled. This morning, before we set out for a sledding adventure, he determined that what the sled needed was a car seat mounted to the sled floor that would serve as a Laney Chair. This might sound nuts, but the previous incarnation of this idea involved your old green high chair, so at least this version looked less like a Sanford and Son parade float.

You seemed to have a great time on the sled ride this morning. Of course, my fear is that your dad will lose his grip on the sled, and the dogs will whisk you away to a new life in Canada. And I don't know if they get the Backyardigans in Canada.

There must be something simply exhausting about being pulled around in a comfy chair while you admire the scenery, huh, Princess?

If there's a cuter thing in the world than a toddler in ski pants, I'd like to know what it is.

As always, the only downer of the trip was when we announced it was time to go home, and you and Gus got whiny.

It's possible that the two of you would be happier in Canada, but I'm not willing to let you go.

Thanks to your dad for all of his wacky inventions that always make for such fun adventures. Can't wait to see what your dad will make next, but as the old redneck joke goes, you'll know it's going to be good and dangerous when Dad says, "Hold my beer and watch this..."

Love,

Mom

Our Best Day

Dear Laney,

We dropped Dad off at school yesterday so he could work on his thesis, then you and I had a Girls' Day Out. You were so sweet all day long. (No, really).

We went to the library, where you played with other little girls and picked out a book about going to the pool. I think that's what it's about, anyway...since it's written in Spanish, I'm just guessing. Either way, I'm enjoying reading Vamos A La Piscina!

Then we went to the mall, where I treated you to a grilled cheese at the Italian cafe. the only seats left were at the counter, so you got to sit in a tall chair like a big girl. I think the cook suspected I was crazy, since your head almost didn't clear the counter and he couldn't see who I was talking to. He just knew that my imaginary friend was NOT allowed to jump down from that chair.

After lunch, you wanted to try on shoes. I'm not making this up. You sat down on the Laney-sized bench in the Dillard's shoe department and started putting on the shoes from the display. We didn't find any that fit, because as Amy has helpfully pointed out, your feet are shaped like charcoal briquets.

I let you play on the playground in the mall courtyard, which looked like a scene from Lord of the Flies. Mayhem. There are narrow sets of stairs that you climb to get up to the slide, and when one little red-haired boy decided you were taking too long on the stairs, he tried to elbow his way around you. That's when you pushed him back by shoving his face against the train. I don't know what they're teaching you in daycare, but maybe I should be paying them extra.

We drove over to the University and chased the squirrels while we waited on your dad to finish his work. Unlike the mean, scrawny, working squirrels who live in our yard, these squirrels have no work ethic and have all gained the "freshman 15." These are Belushi squirrels. For a minute, I worried you were actually going to catch one.

Finally, we picked Dad up and went to dinner at Outback, where you performed "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" for our waitress, and she took you for a walk around the restaurant.

I really enjoyed hanging out with you today - you made me laugh all day long.

Love,

Mom

Stuff You're Into This Month

Dear Laney,

Here are some things you're especially excited about this month:

1. Your tunnel - You like crawling through that thing so much, you'd think it was a portal to the Bahamas. If only it were so...my butt would be wedged in there all day, and you'd never get a turn.

2. Fudgesicles - I know they've been mentioned on this blog before, but with the amount of single-minded devotion you have to them, it bears repeating. About once a week, when you've been especially good, I ask you if you'd like a Fudgesicle. God help me if I take too long to produce it, because you just run to the pantry, bang on the deep-freeze with both hands and let forth a crazy Voodoo woman screech that clearly means I WAS TOLD THERE WOULD BE FUDGESICLES.

3. EVERYONE POOPS - As part of setting the stage for potty-training, I checked this book out from the library. I thought it was kind of silly, but the news that everyone poops seemed like a real eye-opener for you. Also, that "a one-humped camel makes a one-hump poop and a two-hump camel makes a two-hump poop?" Mind-blowing.

4. Washing Your Hands - You either really really like playing with water - for hours - or you have toddler OCD. Note to self: See if there's such a thing.

5. Eating Snow - Your dad taught you that it's super fun to eat snow. But he didn't specify that you should only eat the clean, white, never-been-touched kind. Now you want to eat the snow from tire treads in the road, or the clumps that fall off Dad's shoes when he gets home. It's very hard explaining to an 18-month old that you can eat THIS stuff on the ground, but not THAT stuff on the ground. I blame your dad for any and all dirt you have consumed in the past month.

6. Attempting To Say "Gus."

7. Patting Your Belly After Dinner - This is something your dad does when he thinks dinner was especially delicious. Now you've started doing the same thing. The only thing more fun than patting your own belly is patting Dad's. You look like a bunch of old truckers at the Cracker Barrel.

8. Super-Amazing, Death-Defying Feats Of Acrobatics Not Seen Since The Glory Days Of Barnum & Bailey - OK, I may be over-selling this one a little.

Thanks for all the fun this month.

Love,

Mom

Love Is In The Air

Dear Laney,

One day, far into the future, if someone asks you the name of your first boyfriend, you can say, "Mylar Pablo."

Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll think it's the name of a dashing foreign exchange student.

Love,

Mom

Ring...Ring...

Ring, ring...

Thor: Thor Burbach, Water Rights.

Brooke: Hey, it's me. Listen, let's say for fun that YOUR dog...

Thor: Yes...?

Brooke: ...at the insistence of YOUR child...

Thor: suspicious Uh huh?

Brooke: ...ate a tablespoon of Vaseline. Is that a thing?

Thor: A thing?

Brooke: You know, a crisis?

Thor: sighs. No, she'll live, although her poop...

Brooke: I know, right? (pause) OK, bye.

Dad's Birthday - More "Ups" and Downs

Dear Laney,

You're really into balloons lately. I mean, really. Currently, our Walmart is full of mylar balloons that advertise their clearance racks. No matter how many times I tell you that those things you love are called "balloons," you insist on calling them, "ups." So while we shop for groceries, you point out every balloon you see and yell "Ups!" Your name for them makes more sense than the actual name, but as your dad is fond of saying, the English language often makes no sense.

Last night, we drove into town to meet Aunt Brynn and Uncle Nate, because they wanted to take us out to dinner in honor of Dad's birthday. Since we were running about 20 minutes early, I thought we'd stop into the party store and buy you an "ups." We could say it was for your dad's birthday, but you and I would know the truth. Lo and behold, the store sold Pablo-shaped balloons. Just what every 37 year-old man wants on his birthday: a 2-foot inflatable blue Hispanic penguin in a beanie.

As it turns out, you like ribs. The table next to us hollered that they admired your technique.

The highlight of dinner for me was watching Nate try to teach you to high-five and then pump your fist and say "Yes!" I'm not sure there's ever been a more adorable thing in the history of things.

On the road after dinner, we got caught in a bit of a snowstorm, and it took us an hour and a half to get home. Your dad's truck got stuck on one side of the circular driveway, and then the Subaru got stuck on the other. We put you to bed, then went outside to work on getting the Subaru unstuck. The TV producer in me wished she'd had a camera on a crane to get the overhead shot of your dad shaking his fist at the heavens and shouting "Enough already!!!" At one point, while your dad was pushing on the hood of the car, I accidentally gunned the car in drive instead of reverse. Thank God for the two feet of snow in the driveway, or this could have been That Birthday When Mom Ran Over Dad.

Finally, around 11pm, with the help of nothing but angry will, brute force and a mouthful of dirty words, your dad managed to get the car turned around.

Counting Dad's snowed-in truck, the current count of broken-down or unusable cars in our yard comes to four. There goes my invitation to join the Junior League.

In other news, we have decided to reschedule your dad's birthday for some time in June. We'll mark it on the calendar as Dad's Birthday: Observed.

Love,

Mom