Do You Believe in Magic?

Last night was one of those "magic" nights for me. Those come along about every two or three nights around here. It's when both kids sleep soundly through the night, and the first time I crack an eye, it's at least 5:30 AM. So here I am enjoying a cup o' jo and writing on my blog. It's pure heaven.

On another bunny trail...each night I put Tessa down for bed, she asks for a story about the Princess Tessa and her magic Sparkly Shoes. Maybe I am teaching her to be self-absorbed. Maybe I should title the stories: Princess Not-Tessa and her magic Golden Rule Shoes. But I bet that wouldn't fly. Anyway, she loves these stories and when I say "the end" she always smiles and says, "Good reading, mom!". You know those little Nintendo DS things you can buy that have the commercial for the brain game. You know, the one you play each day to strengthen your brain? And then it tells you how old your brain "acts" based on your score? Well, before I started the Princess Tessa stories, mine was at, like, 98 years old. I am happy to say, all of this creative thinking on my feet has moved me back some. To, like, 79 at least! Well, that is what it would probably be if I actually had that game and actually played it.

Speaking of games, hide and seek is a true winner in our house. And it's great right now. Because we have about 3 places to hide in our living room/kitchen/dining room part of our house. Tessa, however, will never tire of hiding in all three of those places over and over again. I can't help but feel like it won't be long before she discovers that fact. So last night, Tessa and her daddy played hide and seek. And I was feeding Jack (did you really have to ask? i mean, what else do I ever do?). Tessa had the hiccups the whole time they played. Which was a little sad because she is actually starting to get the idea of the whole hiding part of the game. So no matter where she hid, we would hear these loud hiccups. Hiccups behind the ottoman, hiccups in the coat closet, hiccups behind the dining room curtains. And it was so funny, that Anthony would look at me and we would both loose it. Poor Jack probably felt like he was getting a milkshake for dinner. (too much?) Pretty soon, Tessa began telling Anthony where to hide. He would tell her, "I don't know--maybe I'll hide somewhere else." And then Tessa began hiding in the exact same spot Anthony just hid. You could tell he was beginning to get worn down pretending to look for her. Who knew hide and seek had so many layers of difficulty?