Leaving Montana Behind (For A Few Days)

Hey y'all -

In about 36 hours, we're heading out to Maryland to attend our friend Clay's wedding. Laney is scheduled to be the flower girl; Clay thinks I'm kidding when I ask him to sign a waiver that he won't come after me for damages should Laney get halfway down the aisle and decide she'd rather turn the place out with the tire iron she's hidden in her basket.

I keep running through the logistics in my head, trying to figure out everything I need to pack for two small children to cross the country, without having to write Delta a check for $2689.00 in baggage fees. Your dad's focusing on the potential pain, embarrassment and fatigue involved in transporting us to the East Coast. So we've both been busy.

Everyone in the house has had a cold in the last few weeks. Your dad even had a bad case of strep throat. Somehow, Laney's able to overlook her nasal issues in order to relive Easter over and over.

Laney's motor skills have taken a huge leap forward since I started pelting her with plastic eggs and telling her she can keep only the candy she catches.

Readers: Stay tuned for the saga of our trip, and when you're saying your prayers tonight, be sure to include, "Dear Jesus, thank you for not making me take three flights with two children and two car seats and one stroller and two suitcases and 75 diapers and a shuttle van."

I know I would.

Love,

Mom

The Pepsi Hunt

Hey y'all -

We went into Alberton today for the Easter egg hunt. Once again, the field was divided into sections by age group, and Laney was in "Walking Toddlers Through Age 3." The degree of difficulty for this section was approximately zero, since the egg hunt people picked a flat square of field and dropped an egg on the ground every 12 inches.

It was in the toddler section today that I witnessed the craziest thing I'd ever seen at an egg hunt: there were soda cans on the ground, interspersed with the plastic eggs. At first, Grandma Sue and I thought they hadn't cleaned the field before "hiding" the eggs, but nope: They meant for the toddlers to have the soda as treats. The volunteer for our section even shouted, "Parents shouldn't touch the eggs, but if the kids need help pickin' up the pop, you can help 'em." WHAT?? If you can't lift it, you probably shouldn't consume it. That's my motto.

I can say that this is the craziest thing I saw today, but not the craziest thing I heard; that distinction goes to the multiple reports I received this morning of the Easter egg hunt in Americus, Georgia, where a man dressed as a huge pink bunny piloted a crop duster over a field, opened the hopper, and let rain thousands of eggs. God bless America. The lesson here is that any time you see someone in Montana doing something tacky, rest assured that someone in Georgia is doing it better.

Instead of going to the egg hunt, I think Dad and Hagen would have been happy to stay home on the couch, watching a science documentary. How do I know? Because they both had this look on their face the whole time:

We ran into Cedar, which was great fun:

...and we all ate a stupid amount of candy.

In case you're wondering, it did snow at the egg hunt, which puts me in mind of my favorite facebook exchange of the week:

So true, James. So true.

Love,

Mom

Dye Job

The Chart Pays Off

Dear Laney,

You're on Spring Break this week; I guess you and your classmates needed a vacation from the academic rigor of singing, "Do Your Ears Hang Low?" They should call it what it really is - a mental health break for your teacher.

I've been trying to think of activities for us to do every day. You earned enough stickers on your chart for a trip to the playground, so this morning, we all went to the park in Frenchtown. It was your brother's first ride in a stroller, which, like everything else, he thought was fine.

I was talking to your grandfather Philip a few weeks ago, and he said, "Hagen reminds me of that old joke about the 6 year-old boy who had never spoken, until one morning he said, 'These eggs are terrible. Fix me something else!' And his mother cried, 'It's a miracle! What made you finally decide to talk?' And the boy said, 'Well, everything's been pretty much okay 'til now."

I took along some cute bunny glasses, because I thought this might be another opportunity for me to grab an Easter picture. You hopped for me exactly once...

and then said, "Don't want to hop in da bunny glasses. Just want to ROAR."

I'm still practicing some of the things I learned in my photography class. Today, I thought I'd work on adjusting my shutter speed. I let you keep throwing rocks into the pond while I tried various settings. I thought I wasn't getting it, but now on a bigger screen, I see that the brown blotch on the left side of the picture is the rock you were throwing, and I knew what I was doing after all.

Your dad has described my recent photography habit as being, "out of control," but this is coming from a man who has stocked our basement with umpteen thousand dollars' worth of gear from REI. Hello, Pot? This is Kettle. You're black.

Besides, I've yet to hear one of the grandparents say, "For the love of Pete, can you stop taking pictures of those young'uns!?!" When that happens, I'll know I've gone round the bend.

Love,

Mom

Today's Agenda Meeting

Good morning, everyone.

Here's this morning's rundown of our proposed daily agenda:

Night Owls

Dear Laney,

Last Friday night, we went to Miss Tracy's house to celebrate Jojo's 5th birthday. Tracy had decided on a "night owl," theme, and all the kids came dressed in their pajamas. She gave you all glow-in-the-dark necklaces and bracelets and you played a dance party game in the dark. You were "out" almost immediately, because asking a 2 year old to "freeze" is like asking lava to "pause for a sec."

There was spaghetti and a pinata that you tried to beat the snot out of with a bat.

Everyone got a chance to hold Hagen,

...and all of the kids got a handmade owl pillow from Tracy. I'm known for overextending myself, but even I had to whistle and say "Damn!" when I saw all those pillows. If you told me I had to make 12 different owl pillows for a group of kids, I'd start looking for a Home Ec class to pay under the table.

The morning after the party, you woke up and said, "I ready go back to Jojo's birdday party."

Let me just get Tracy on the phone. I'm sure she's ready for round two.

Love,

Mom

Our Pirate Problem

Dear Laney,

Welcome to another installment of Bad Parenting 101: Tips And Techniques From The Burbach Household.

Getting you into your clothes and getting your hair done in time for you to leave for school every morning was a major hassle, until we had a spirited round of negotiations and it was decided that I could dress you in anything I wanted, and could do your hair any way that struck my fancy IF I let you watch an episode of Jake and the Never Land Pirates and eat one (1) Hershey's kiss. Note that if this were the 1950s, the final version of this deal would have been: You let me do your hair, and I don't beat you with this stick.

Jake and the Never Land Pirates is a preschool spin-off of Peter Pan...

...and now, all you can talk about is pirates and pirate-related business. Throwing yourself down the slide at the park: "Gangway!" As I'm getting into your bed to read you a story: "Climb aboard, Mommy." En route to the carousel: "Full speed ahead!" I have no problem with this. For one thing, a toddler who says, "Arrrrr!" is adorable, and for another, this has signaled the death of Dora in our house. Yo ho ho!

This morning, your dad used his Masters in Geography to make you a mini treasure map, and used his middling craft skills to make you a pouch necklace for your pixie dust, to be used "only in emergencies." Or so you say:

Hi diddly dee, a pirate's life for me.

Love,

Mom