First things first.....

Let's get the snarky comments over with right up front:

"Wait, you still blog?"

"It's about time......"

"What, like you have anything better to do?!"

I know it's been nearly two months. I know my child has aged before my eyes and not yours. I know those of you on my Kodak list have been DYING, and I mean D-Y-I-N-G to go through hundreds of pictures that I've failed to send since she hit the next month mark. I know, I know, I know.

And I'm still not going to update everything tonight. Sorry. I just can't do it. It's 9:15pm. That's like 3am in mom years. Maybe even 4am in teacher years. Anymore, I don't know which is worse.

OK, that said, I'd like to share my reason for why I deserve the "mother of the year" award. (And yes, I'm being sarcastic. That or a blatant narcissist, but keep your judgment to yourself.)

Anyhow. Here's the back story: Micah has started day care. We are now on week four, and she ABSOLUTELY LOVES IT. In fact, I have to force her to stop outside the front door to give me a kiss because once inside, she turns around, waves, and says "bye-bye" with this tiny little wave involving only her fingers. It's the toddler equivalent to, "Um, you can go now." Fortunately for my maternal ego, she is thrilled to see me at the end of the day and immediately chucks her toys to the ground, grabs her shoes, and pulls on the door handle to head out. We really couldn't be happier with our day care choice. She has learned new words, like "baby," and now identifies babies EVERYWHERE WE GO. According to Norene, "the day care lady," Micah is very sweet with the one infant (6 mos.) she has, bringing her toys, rubbing her head, etc. I feel like maybe she's lying, but today she assured me that Micah has never done anything that wasn't extremely gentle. Hm. Maybe she's not as much of a ruffian as we always assume when we pick her up from the poor haggard looking nursery workers at church. (They've now asked us more than once when she will be two.....because that's when she moves up to the next class.) That could also be because she has decided that she now wants to give every person under 3 ft. a bear hug. Sweet. Mostly. Needless to say, she loves being there, and we love that she loves it.

Except for one thing: the commute. I think she hates carpooling with me. Maybe it's my musical selection. Maybe it's my singing voice. Who knows. Wait, I do. I think it's the 40 minute drive. I'm not saying I personally live for my daily drive, but it's never pushed me so far as to sob uncontrollably in the deepest, darkest anguish of my life. So far, I think I can count the days Micah HASN'T felt that way on one hand. and yesterday would appear to have been the worst, which (FINALLY) leads me to my campaign for that "mother of the year" award I mentioned earlier....

This is what I saw in my rear view all the way home yesterday:

And when we got home. And while I was fixing dinner. And when I wouldn't let her climb on the furniture. And by the time she went to bed, I can't lie, I was more than a little relieved. I kept thinking, "How the heck am I supposed to make it through an entire school year of this?!? Why must I suffer? Me, me, me, me, me! Wah, wah, wah, wah, wah!"

Then today, she was lovely. Absolutely lovely. And after dinner, we went across the street to redeem our free frozen yogurt, and again, she was lovely. And while we were there, she smiled a huge, yogurt-filled smile, and with gaping mouth, exposed four new molars which are breaking fully through top and bottom, right and left.

Did she say, "Gee thanks, mom, for noticing that I was in PAIN yesterday. Thanks for the Tylenol and something cold to numb my gums. Thanks for your understanding of my discomfort?" Nope. And not just because she can't form the words yet. It's a good thing this isn't the first (or last) time I've felt like a failure at parenting, and this isn't even the stuff she'll remember. Yet. Poor baby.

So, when you're casting your vote for "Mother of the Year," please keep me in mind. Micah will need a scrapbook to drag along to her therapy sessions later in life, and a few awards like this would probably help her repertoire. :)