Skip to main content

Willow, the little helper

Willow helps Daddy re-sort the laundry piles.
Also notice how she helps keep the tables clean.
Willow helped me make the bed this morning.
You know as well as I do that she didn't really do anything, but she was there at the side of the bed, huge smile on her face, helping as best she could (which meant she patted the comforter a time or two).
Willow is our big helper. And she knows it. And Cherish and I know it, so we keep her busy.
  • Willow helps with the laundry (by re-sorting Daddy's piles, which are always all wrong).
  • Willow helps unload the dishwasher (she likes to take dishes from the rack and putting them on the kitchen floor).
  • Willow helps water the plants (she likes to make sure the soil is nice and wet).
  • Willow helps compost (she mostly supervises this activity).
  • Willow helps Cherish get ready in the morning (by pulling rags from under the sink and unrolling the toilet paper roll ... it should be free and flowing!).
  • Willow helps me write this blog (she likes to edit ... heavily ... by pounding on the keyboard ... "NO, NO, NO! Start over!").
  • Willow helps me vacuum (she has a strange notion that TACKLING the vacuum will help).
  • Willow helps me keep in shape (this comes in two forms: having me chase her around, all over the place, and acting as the coxswain in her stroller, motivating me to keep pushing the stroller farther and faster). Note: Funny story related to this below.
  • Willow helps Cherish and me diet (she eats half of what's on our plates).
  • Willow helps change her diapers (she likes to pull them from under her, fun stuff this is).
  • Willow helps us keep the house clean (by this I mean she helps keep the table tops clean; everything has its place, and that place is on the floor).
  • Willow helps us organize our books and magazines (everything has its place, and that place is on the floor).
The list goes on and on.

Keeping pace with the baby

While at Centennial Park last week, Willow was urging me on in her coxswain roll in the stroller. She had me going at a blistering 14-minute-a-mile walk (I was passing joggers here, people).
At one point, we approached from behind a couple strolling around the lake. For some reason, the man started picking up the pace when I caught up with them. I don't know if he didn't want a baby stroller to pass him or if he simply realized he wanted to kick it up a gear.
His wife did not want to go faster, though.
"Why are you going so fast?"
"I'm not going fast, come on. Pick it up!"
At this point, I had pulled even with her. "No, you go ahead, I'll be fine back here with the baby."
A moment later, "Wait a second, even the baby is outpacing me!"
The man and I laughed and exchanged pleasantries.
Then Coxswain Willow told me to pick up the pace.
There were ducks to see.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

With baby comes packing (and a lot of it)

Willow, Che and I are traveling to see the grandparents, aunts, cousins and Mos (or is it Moes or is it Mo's or is it Moses?) in Henderson, Tenn., this weekend. And that brings up one of the big differences between being a couple without kids and being a couple with kids: packing for travel (they even have an app for that, God bless us packing-weary parents). Back in my pre-child days, packing hardly mattered, probably taking up 1 zillionth of a tenth of a percent of my brain capacity to do (six days equals six days of socks and underwear plus some T-shirts, some shorts, a pair or two of pants, put on some shoes, throw in some toothpaste, and I was off). That's hardly the case anymore. Take, for example, if you have a spit-up-prone baby. Do you take two burp clothes, four, eight or, maybe, 16? Better take 24. And how many diapers do you take? Or wipes? Do I need to take baby medicine? Is it going to be cold or warm or cold and warm or warm and hot then ... AACK!!! You get t...
2 comments
Read more

Willow's morning of play, play, play exhausts poor, old Dad

Willow's playtime universe continues to grow. Rapidly. Witness. In the midsummer heat, I take Willow out to our shaded backyard in the morning to play. And play she does. She climbed into her swing first. After I pushed her for a while, I got her out of the swing and put her in her wagon so she could help me convey bags of sand from the garage to the backyard to fill her sandbox (part of her new swing set) and her water table sandbox. She took rake and shovel and played in the sandbox for a bit. Then she waddled over to the deck and started to climb the steps to get to the water table. She played in the sand a bit, but most of her time was used dipping water up and out of the water part of the water table. Most the water ended up all over her. After that she wanted off the deck to go back to swinging. Instead I retrieved the new tricycle Cherish procured from a Franklin recycle center and cleaned it up. Willow loved the trike, holding on to the handle bars while I pushed her...
Post a Comment
Read more

Willow's tooth-brushing goes from rocky to rocking

Willow has been giving us fits for months now about brushing her teeth before bed. She's usually better brushing her teeth in the morning, meaning it's less like wrestling an alligator for me, but at night before bed, she turns into the Tasmanian Devil. We've tried making the tooth-brushing as fun as possible for her, but I usually end up holding her against her will while I try, mostly in vain, to pry the toothbrush into her clamped-shut mouth. Sometimes we give up. We've tried singing to her. Dancing. Story-telling. Tickling. Nothing has really worked. But Mommy might have hit on the solution. A singing toothbrush. Yesterday Mommy brought home a toothbrush that belts out Queen singing "We Will Rock You." This toothbrush ROCKS! And Willow loves it. We tried it out last night, and on the inaugural brushing, Willow brushed her teeth successfully all by herself. She danced the whole time too. And I stayed bruise free (I also, surprisingly, had more energ...
Post a Comment
Read more