ramblinjaq

without a definite route

what i learn when i leave the house

on March 6, 2007

emmit and i just attended a tupperware party, but for books. i was nervous about it keeping us out past his bedtime and about totally skipping his nighttime routine, but he is dozing deeply in his crib right now proving that i fretted for naught. knock wood.

it was a cute little gathering at my step sister emily’s house, with 4 toddlers all emmit’s age running around like little hellions. emmit was, of course, the tallest and flirtiest. em’s daughter abby was the most outgoing and bounciest. the little boy named franklin was the silliest, growling cheerfully at everything including the ball that was twice his size that he insisted upon picking up even though he would fall each time, taking at least one of the other kids down with him. and the little girl,shirly, was the shyest. abby kept repeating, “emmott…emmott…emmott.” apparently, we chose well in our son’s moniker, at least in terms of something that’s fun for a kid to say.

the grownups – 4 moms, 1 dad and g.j. – kept one eye on the kids, one eye on their plate of fruit, cheese and crackers and the other eye on the nice lady talking about children’s books. it was a masters class in parental-multi-tasking, trying to seem relaxed, but prepared to spring into action in a split second. just keeping each of the different sippy cups paired with the right kid was an endless and futile endeavor, because who on earth wants to drink out of his own cup?

the books were from usborne books and i ordered a couple with lots of animals for emmit. g.j. got some spanish and french flashcards, which i think she and i are more excited about than any of her grandkids will be.

at the end of the party, we changed emmit into his jammies and prepared to leave. then i smelled something not unfamiliar, but really unpleasant. i looked down and franklin’s mom was changing his diaper and i was grossed out. like i don’t change poopy diapers on a regular basis grossed out. certainly emmit’s poopy diapers stink. it’s kind of funny how i don’t actually notice it. but some other mom’s spawn? ick. ick.

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