Playing fetch with the doggies,

Kicking the ball around,

or just resting in the grass, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face -

it was a great weekend to be outside.

It’s no secret that I absolutely love the beautifully matured trees in our yard.

Even this time of year, when it requires a weekend’s worth of work to rake up the colorful carpet of leaves they have dropped, it’s fun to take time to romp through and then rest on the pillowy piles that dot the lawn.

I wasn’t overly optimistic that her pottying on the big girl potty was  going to become a daily occurrence.

There was no potty on the potty yesterday.

Although Kendal was still not old enough to really “get it,” we did celebrate Halloween by going trick-or-treating to a few places: Mommy’s work, Great-Grandma DeeDee’s, and Terri’s.

She tolerated her kitten-eared hood better than I though she would and actually left it on so people could identify what exactly she was, since her pawed mittten hands didn’t work out so well (she wouldn’t keep them on) nor did the face-paint nose and whiskers. On the trial run she smeared it all over so it looked more like the face of a chimney sweep than a kitty.

When I saw the missed call and voicemail from Terri this morning, I assumed she was calling to tell me that Kendal’s runny, congested nose had developed into a feverish illness and I would need to come and pick her up. But NOPE, that was not the case. She actually called to tell me that Kendal went potty on the toilet, A LOT! Terri has introduced her to the idea of potty-training over the course of the last month by occasionally sitting her on the potty to see what she would do. There has only been one instance where the tiniest bit trickled out, which neither one of them noticed at the time, but today she went a lot, and she noticed what was happening, and she cheered.

She likes to take things of Daddy’s, like his coat, his belts, or, in this case, his undershirt, drape them around her neck, and walk around the living room and up and down the hall.

She had her nails painted when I picked her up from daycare today – alternating black and white for Halloween.

If she doesn’t look even more like a little girl now… Toddlers and Tiaras here we come!

while I’m trying to get ready in the morning, I’m not opposed to her playing with tampons and a toothbrush.

For my parent’s 32nd wedding anniversary, all they wanted from their children was to have them back at home to help them celebrate, so that’s exactly what they got. Eric, Kelsey, Kristin, Rusty, Matt, Kendal and myself  spent the weekend in Wahoo, eating their food, drinking their alcohol, and cluttering their tidy, freshly cleaned space with our discarded sweatshirts, jackets, socks, shoes, damp bath towels and of course Kendal’s numerous toys. It’s a true testament to the abounding love of parents when they want to spend their anniversary reliving the riotous chaos of having their three children (plus some) back at home, but I get it.

I’m lucky to have a family that loves spending time together: laughing, talking, crying, reminiscing, and sharing. I’m blessed to have family that I love and respect and that love and respect me; a family that cares, listens, understands, supports and forgives one another. I am inspired and humbled by my parents and all that they have done to make us the family that we are today. They gave us strong roots to grow from and the wings to allow us to become the individuals that we are today. So for all of these reasons, I get why it was important for my parents to want to share their anniversary with us.

As always, many new memories were imprinted in our family history over the weekend: my dad reading the heartfelt love letter he had written to my mom (which had almost all of us in tears or at least watery-eyed it was so beautifully moving!), enjoying chocolate martini’s around the bonfire while we watched Kendal walk endless circles around the pillar in the back yard, sharing otherwise inappropriate sex talk/jokes which Eric misinterprets. Mom and Dad also decided to make good on the Christmas present we gave them last year, which was to get new family pictures taken, and had someone come to the house on Sunday afternoon while we were all still there. Turns out that of all the family pictures that we took– there was not a single one where someone wasn’t blinking! I was questioning how they were going to turn anyway since Kendal decided from the first shot that she was not going to cooperate.

It looks like we may be going back for round two or to Portrait Innovations again.

Since I learned I was pregnant I’ve been subscribed to receive BabyCenter’s weekly updates about my developing child. I used to get emails telling me that my baby was comparatively the size of a kumquat or a Chinese cabbage and that at 19 weeks her kidneys were continuing to make urine or at 28 weeks she was sporting eyelashes. Now these updates provide me with useful insight as to why at 15 months she has meltdowns in the produce aisle at the grocery store or insists that I hold her when I’m trying to make dinner or get myself ready in the morning.

Ironically,  I received a BabyCenter bulletin this week titled “Teaching you toddler about private parts,” just when Kendal has started to have a wandering hand at diaper changes. This is what it said:

“Your child’s curiosity about genitals is no different than her questions about eyes, ears, feet, noses, and other less private parts. And genitals are pretty interesting, as body parts go. Her questions are only natural — after all, she has to learn about private parts from someone, and it’s best for that someone to be you.

How should you respond? Be direct, and stay matter-of-fact. Follow the rule of thumb: “Is this how I would tell her about elbows or knees?” Give her the anatomically correct name for the body part (“vagina,” “penis”) and avoid baby talk — using funny or silly words will just confuse her and, if anything, makes the discussion a bigger deal. If she asks what they’re for, you can say that genitals are for going to the bathroom. If you feel comfortable mentioning that they’re also used for making babies, that’s okay, too. She may not get it, but a child this age has no understanding of sex and won’t make that connection.”

Well, I’ve been going about this ALL WRONG!

My reaction when her hand starts to head south during a diaper change is that I’ll playfully swat at the wandering hand with a clean diaper, and , in a silly voice say, “No, you can’t play with your hoo-hoo.” It usually gets her to giggle and she attempts to repeat the action.

I’m just not sure I can matter-of-factly affirm her discovery with a “Yes Kendal, that’s your vagina.” And not giggle myself at how adult that sounds.