Giggle.  What are these?

My daughter can read in Polish.  Therefore, it’s not the words on the label that threw her off this evening as she went grocery shopping with me.

But what happened was so cute.  We were walking down the aisle while I was checking my grocery list.  When we came where I needed to stop, my daughter giggled and asked, “What are those?!”

I looked at what drew such curious giggling from my daughter and began giggling on my own.

Glancing at her innocent, adorable face and said, “They’re eggs!”

“But they’re white,” she proclaimed.

“Why, yes they are.  Yes, they are.”

Far, far away from the land famous for white eggs, aka America, white eggs here in Poland are a novelty not quite known how to be perceived.

I LOVE MY GAL!

And to top off the trip, she wore an ace bandage on her hand and wrapped her arm in her scarf like a sling.

Just because.

She also threw on her high-heeled (for a 9-year-old) turquoise shoes with no socks.  Believe me—it’s cold outside.

And off we went.  To the grocery store together.

Where she, my precious Adelyne, discovered white eggs.

And where we, mother and daughter, both left with the giggles!

It takes a village. Now would someone please help me clean up the pee?

I admit it.

I need help.  Lots of it.

It takes a village, and I am living proof of that.

Even today, I, mother of ONLY 3, got breakfast eggs from my sister when she came to pick up my daughter for school.

Have I mentioned that my sister has FOUR children?  So, let’s do the math.  Sister + 4 kids = 1 more than me.

Yet…

She somehow got 4 kids dressed, lunches packed, and out the door…Made eggs and picked up my daughter.

I got one daughter dressed, fed, and ready to be picked up.

ONE.

The other two in my posse of 3…two poopy diapers changed, one baby nursed, and one toddler stuck in a high chair watching Sesame Street.  Oh, glorious Sesame Street—how I love you!

It takes a village, and I am living proof of that.

Last night, at my daughter’s softball game, I had one amazing friend take my infant.  One nephew babysat my toddler, my brother worked with my daughter on her hitting stance, all the while, I sat (or jumped and screamed), keeping score during my daughter’s softball game.  Boy, it was an exciting game for 5-9-year-olds!  Although, I must admit, the other coach took the game a little too seriously.  After all, we cheered at the last double out of the evening—and it was against us.  But it was so exciting!  I think the other uber-competitive coach thought we were all crazy.  Maybe we are.  But at least we had fun!

It takes a village…and I am living proof of that.

Today my mom is going to go shopping with me while I pick up some stuff I want to bring back to Poland with me.  Like a collapsible wagon.  I have birthday money for it.  Glorious birthday money.

Oh, yeah.  I finally turned the big 3-8.  It’s official.  (happened a couple weeks ago, but I’m too tired to keep track)

And then I did it.  I ventured out on my own and did something big.  I’m talking huge!  I bathed two babies after breakfast, simultaneously.  And it was fun.  No village needed, SuperMommy came flying through.

Baby one—out of the bath, while toddler one still got to splash around in the sinking water.

Wee.  All of this is fun.  It must be my sister’s breakfast eggs giving me super strength.

Infant one is finally lotioned, powdered, diapered and dressed.  Toddler is still happily splashing.

I can do it…I can do it…I am doing it!

Toddler out of the bath, towel wrapped around him, it’s actually like a towel dress.  I have grabbed infant and we are now heading in the direction of his (toddler’s) room.  He runs ahead of me.

The entire house is tile.

And when we (me and infant) finally catch him, I see him, squatting on the floor.

Happily splashing.

“Wee, wee, wee!” are literally the words coming out of his mouth followed by, “Splash, splash, splash!”

“MAXWELL!  Did you go pee-pee?”  Why did I bother to ask?  I know the answer.

“Pee-pee!”

Splash, splash, splash!

Yep…It takes a village to raise my family.  I will be the first to admit it.  But I am pretty sure that even in my village, when it comes to toddler’s random pee spot on the floor, it takes the momma to clean the mess.

After all, the village is busy doing everything else.

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Life.  As I know it.