Playsets and Preschool

Call me Mother of the Year.

The mass exodus is over. We've moved into what Peanut still refers to as "BIG NEW HOUSE!!!!" I'm putting this in all caps to allude to the lack of volume control. The move went smoothly, with the minor exception of Peanut's stomach flu. And Boomer's laughter. At me. With good reason.

Peanut was ragingly sick all over Boomer, and I, desperate to help, got him as close to Boomer as possible. Bad move, because in the next instant I was told to go find a garbage can. Oops. Call me Wife of the Year. Never gonna live that one down.

However, we have discovered the best feature of big new house. The playset. It is awesome! Peanut is developing the habit of racing outside at all hours and in all stages of dress. I'm trying to convince him that jammies and bare feet are not acceptable outdoor wear. I'm being ignored. Again.

More good news on the Peanut front is that he's been accepted to a fantastic preschool program. I'm excited, mainly because someone needs to learn that he's not the only toddler in the world, and it gives me new incentive to potty train. However, I'm a little sad because my baby is growing up. When I pointed this out to Boomer, he countered by reminding me that kindergarten isn't far away. No help whatsoever. Time for me to lick my wounds and realize that Peanut is taking his first step away from me.

Call me Mother of the Year.