My Little Helper: Bath Time for Grace

Today I'm actually starting a series of blogs that I will publish each Tuesday (I hope) for the next few weeks focused on a single theme. The theme for this series, my first, will be called My Little Helper.  It will highlight my toddler Ginny's attempts to help. They can be quite entertaining in their own way. I hope you enjoy the series enough that you look forward to the new one each week.

Bath Time for Grace

Ginny in the thick of things pouring water on her sister.

Ginny, my oldest, loves bath time. She absolutely adores it. Other than the first bath we gave her at home, she has always loved bath time. Her love of baths has, at times, turned to obsession. There have been days when she hasn't needed a bath. She doesn't grasp that concept. Ginny has been known to pound on the bathroom door after dinner, in tears, crying, and yelling out, "Bath!" 

We quickly learned that even saying the word, "bath," would lead to the same response. "Bath" was one of the very first words we ever spelled out so she wouldn't know what we were discussing. Euphemisms and synonyms were used as well for a while. When her sister Grace would need a bath, we would say that we needed to get Grace clean or we would be using the tub. Never the word, "bath." Being pretty smart, my daughter has figured out what "clean", "tub", and "shower" all mean. We are just grateful that she doesn't bang on the door daily as she has in the past. Now her breakdowns at the bathroom door are completely random and unpredictable. 

Grace, our baby, loves bath time as well. She is just not yet old enough to express it in the same way her older sister does. Her first baths were given to her in a small baby bath tub near our kitchen sink; the same small tub we used for her sister. At some point, Grace discovered how much fun it is to kick the water while bathing. After this discovery was made, a few weeks ago, we moved her tub into the big tub in the guest bathroom. She will continue to use her small tub until she can sit up on her own without tumbling over. Hopefully soon. 

Being sure to help Mommy wash Grace's hair.

Now that we are in the bathroom, instead of the kitchen, Ginny comes in to help Grace take her baths. Ginny loves to pour water on her sister, rub her head, and play with her. She is thrilled to help us out. In fact, I get the feeling that she thinks that she is the one giving her sister the bath and not myself or my DH. Once Grace's bath is done, and she is dried and dressed, Ginny also takes great pride in brushing her baby sister's hair. Well, what hair there is. 

I look forward to the time when both girls will take baths together. I have a feeling it will be quite amusing.

My Husband's Gift

Ginny helping stir

This year was the third year we celebrated Father's Day in our home. It is a new tradition I have yet to master. I keep wanting to celebrate in a way that my husband knows that he is appreciated.  Eventually I will get it right.

My biggest challenge each year is in choosing a gift for my DH. Since it is Father's Day, I feel the gift should be coming from our daughters more so than me. I searched for inspiration on Pinterest, on store web pages, and lists of gift giving ideas. Nothing really struck me as being "the gift" for Chris, my husband. I was at my wit's end, figuring I would just go to Scheel's and buy him something either Packers or Brewers related. Then, as I was scrolling through Facebook, I noticed a posting by another blogger. I wish I could remember the blogger so I could give her proper credit, but I was so struck by what she posted on, that I forgot to take a mental note. Her post dealt with her creating a garden stepping stone for her husband. All I could think about when I saw the picture of what she had done was what a great gift that would be for my DH.

Chris has been working hard on his vegetable garden and has had some success. One part of the yard that he worries about is the entrance from the gate (our yard is fenced). The gated entry gets a lot of traffic. Unfortunately, the grass has been dying in that area. So, my clever spouse decided we should create a stone pathway, keeping the area pretty but without worrying too much about the grass. Therefore, having the girls give him a stone would be absolute perfection.

Of course, my girls are too little to make a garden stepping stone (our youngest is still a baby, not yet crawling, and our oldest is two-years-old); that job would fall to me. One day, early last week, I ran to JoAnn's figuring they would have a craft kit for a stone. I was right! They had several. I spent a great deal of time staring at them all, trying to decide which one would work best for us. Stone kit chosen, I purchased it and headed back home, hiding the kit before I entered the house. 

The next day, while my husband was sleeping after working a midnight to 8 a.m. shift, I got to work on the stone. Following the directions, I mixed the powder with water, probably a bit too much water, but it still worked. After the stuff was mixed, I poured it in the mold then enlisted my daughters' help. Naturally, this step took the longest. I had decided to imprint Ginny's hand and Grace's foot. I started with Grace, figuring she would be the easiest. She was. Her foot imprinted nicely. Next, Ginny. First, I showed her how to lay her hand flat, then I pressed it. At the last minute, Ginny decided to put two of her fingers together. It was a mess, and the only way to fix it was to shake the mixture up and clear both her print and her sister's print. So, I started again. This time, with Ginny. Eventually we got it just right, after three attempts, then I got Grace's foot print. 

Hand & foot prints

From there, I added writing. At the top, I wrote "We love Daddy." Under the hand print, I scratched in "Ginny" the best I could, and under the foot print, I wrote, "Grace." I attempted to have Ginny help me with the last part of the project, adding the pretty rocks. I soon realized that would not work. Ginny kept trying to put the rocks on her hand print. Instead, I ended up having her pass me the rocks, and I added them. His stone done, I put my husband's gift in the garage to hide it as it dried for the next 24 hours. The gift didn't turn out perfect, but I like what we did. In fact, I am thinking this may become a Father's Day tradition in the years to come.

Done and ready to dry

The finished garden stepping stone

On Father's Day, we went to mass in the morning. From there, we went out to lunch at Outback. Our lunch was enjoyable. Ginny was very amusing during lunch. Ginny made the lunch extra special when she kept hugging her daddy and then saying, "friends." How special is that? When we got home, I gave him the gift from us, and he loved it! I was happy he liked it and warned him this may become a tradition. He smiled and let me know he wouldn't mind that one bit. I may finally be getting this Father's Day thing right.

Ginny hugging her daddy while saying "friends"

My Dad is My Superhero

My dad and I (circa '73/'74, I was 2)

When I was a little girl, what I wanted more than anything in the world was to grow up and be just like my dad. I was in awe of him! He was handsome, smart, confident, strong, able to fix most anything I broke, funny, and he loved me. How could I not want to be like him? I was a Daddy's girl, through and through.

As I got older into my teen years and early 20s, I still looked up to him. I began to see that he wasn't as perfect as I imagined. In fact, he was flawed. Not in a detrimental way, but he would make mistakes. He would piss me off. We would argue. We once had an argument that had me fuming for weeks. Yet, despite all of the flaws and irritations, I loved him. I still wanted to be like my dad. I was a Daddy's girl, through and through.

Dad and I goofing around on a flight to California, 1987.

Then, when I was nearly 25 and I attempted suicide, I discovered my dad was even stronger than I knew. He and my mom supported me as I healed physically and mentally. He was there for me. I saw the emotional toll my actions took on him. The pain I caused him, and it broke my heart. At one point, I realized he thought I took him for granted. He couldn't have been further from the truth. It took a while, but I made sure I let him know that he was who I wanted to be, still. I was still a Daddy's girl and always would be. And, we healed together, as father and daughter, and as a whole family.

Dad and I in Nashville, 2001. 

Throughout my life, my dad imparted important lessons for me. He showed me how a man treated a woman by how he treated my mom, his mom, and all the other women in his family. My dad taught me what responsibility meant and how to accept it, even if that wasn't what you wanted to do. He demonstrated for me the importance of family by putting us first at all times. Through his actions, he revealed what it means to treat everyone with respect.

My dad is a wonderful man. He is my superhero. He has always been that to me. As an adult, I can now see that he was never perfect, not always confident, not able to fix everything, though he tried, but he loved me. He still loves me, and I love him!

Now, my dad is a grandfather. He adores his grandchildren, and they adore him. I am so thankful that God blessed me with such a wonderful dad and my girls with such a great grandpa.

My dad holding my daughters! What a fabulous grandpa he is! :)

Happy Father's Day to my superhero, my dad! I love you!