Happy Father's Day

Dear Daddy,

Happy Father's Day. I really had fun playing catch with you.

Love, Molly

(Daddy - does it get any better than this? Love, Mommy)

The Joys of Summer

Swinging at the park on a sunny day...

Riding the carousel at the mall -- and finding an elephant to ride, too!

Catching some air on the Bounce House at school...

Daddy Does It Better???

Molly, there's something you need to know about mommies and daddies. Something you really already know deep down: mommies and daddies do things differently. Bath time, play time, dinner time... getting dressed, brushing teeth, fixing hair, changing diapers. No matter what, chances are there's the mommy way of doing things and the daddy way.

(There's lots of blog posts -- probably even entire blogs -- devoted to this topic.)

Secretly, mommies always think that their way is the better way. No offense, daddies. But we do. We're just wired that way.

But I'll admit something, Molly. There are two things that Daddy has done recently much better than I could ever have done.

Teach you to swim and teach you to ride your bike. And rats, if I'm not impressed.

(We're still in the initial phases of the bike riding thing... but so far, he's a much better teacher than I am. I guess his parenting philosophies based on the Karate Kid movies really are working out.)

When we were in Florida on vacation (geez, I haven't even blogged about that yet!), we rented a house with a pool. You had floaties and a noodle. You were pretty content to dance around on the steps and in the non-hot hot tub. (Hmmmm.... not like anyone I know at your age...)

Anyway, Daddy lured you into the pool... then into deeper waters. You protested. You fought it. Then you started to cry. "Noooooooooo....... Daaaaaaaddddddddyyyyyyyy!"

I couldn't watch. It was tough - don't make her cry on vacation!

Then it happened...

The cries turned into giggles. And Daddy had Molly out floating and kicking... and swimming!

The next phase of Daddy's plan: get her swimming with the noodle under her arms while using the old patented Daddy line, "I've got you, sweetie. I've got you. I'm right behind you, sweetie. I'm holding on to you. I won't let go..." (he calls from the other end of the pool).

And it happens again -- the whimpers of apprehension turns into cheers of glee. And Molly's swimming like she Michael Phelps.

"Eye... always look eye..."

Look, Ma - I'm swimming! Daddy taught me!

Esther Williams, eat your heart out.

Word of the Day with Molly P. - Part 2

Some more words that Molly has decided to try out lately:

• Freaked out - While sitting at dinner, Molly recounts the thunderstorm that happened at school: "When the thunder crashed, I freaked out. But then I was ok." (She even had some crazy eyes and hand motions to go with it. That's my girl...)
• Saliva - While stalling for time before brushing teeth, "I have to swallow a little saliva."
• Collection - "Mommy, I have a collection of elephants."
• Dead - This is a weird one. All of a sudden, she's asking a lot about dead and death. One night the news was on and a woman was crying. Out of nowhere, Molly asked, "Mommy, why's she crying. Did someone die?" Oh rats - where's the mommy manual when you need it?

The Molly Trifecta

Last Wednesday was Molly's perfect day:

1. ALL of her grandparents were here -- Grandma and Grandpa, and Papa and Grandma. Even Aunt Lois and Uncle Jim! Why were they all here?


2. Ballet recital! At long last, the Molly's big debut. And after we got home from the recital...


3. AMERICAN IDOL FINALE! Two hours of filler (thank GOD for TiVo) - capped with David Cook being named the new American Idol.

My cousin in Blue Springs, Mo., had been trying to find a David Cook shirt for Molly. When she couldn't find one in Molly's size, she made her this:

That's right - "David Cook is my Idol" in tiny little sparklies. Way too cute.

Of course, we wore this to school on Tuesday. I'm already having people letting me know they're betting on Molly's American Idol pick for next year. Well, we have to fund college somehow...

The Big American Idol Finale!

It's finally here, Molly -- what you've been waiting for all season. The big "American Idol" finale. David vs. David. Cook vs. Archuletta. How are you going to celebrate?

First, Daddy picked you up from school. As soon as you got home, you watched "American Idol Extra," then read your current issue of TV Guide with the top three Idols on the cover...

Then... you fell sound asleep at 6:30 while I made dinner. And you've been asleep ever since. You didn't even peep when I scooped you up and carried you upstairs.

I guess all the excitement was just too much.

I Just Hope Tigger Isn’t Next...

Originally written: April 5, 2008

In Molly’s class at school, they are learning rhyming words. This on the tail of reading Fox in Socks about 20 times…So she’s getting really good at rhyming.

“Mommy – flower and glower. Do those rhyme?”

“Well, yes – they rhyme. But glower isn’t really a word.”

“Ok – flower and power and gower.”

“Gower?

So one afternoon we’re headed out to lunch, and Molly is trying out some new rhyming words as we’re getting into the van.

“Yuck and truck and duck and….”

Yep – you guessed it. She correctly rhymed yuck with that word.

Aaron looked at me. Under my breath I muttered, “Don’t react. Just let it go.”

Then, as if she’s genetically disposed to LOVING the sound of that word, she hit it again. “Yuck and f!@#$... and f%^&*… and f%^%&^!”

Ok, so maybe we need to say something.

Daddy quickly said, “Molly, you can say yuck but not that other word. It’s not a nice word that we use.” She said “ok,” and that was it.

Later that afternoon, we’re playing sidewalk chalk and Molly scrapes her finger. Yes, that finger. She comes to show me her boo-boo… and ends up giving me a full-blown bird.

Great – my baby is dropping f-bombs and giving me the bird.

I felt compelled to e-mail Molly’s teachers and explain that she really doesn’t know what that word or gesture mean… because wherever would she learn that? But just in case she starts rhyming words or showing off boo-boos in class, consider yourself warned.