Random Monday Thoughts

I cannot seem to figure out why it is SO hard for me to get up and out of the house at eight o'clock. I fled my house having not even brushed my hair or eaten breakfast. My second cup of coffee was clutched in my hand though. I do have my priorities.

Today I watched Jonge and Famke at their house. THGGM drops me off there on his way to work.

I wasn't there 10 minutes before I was puked-up on. I never remember to bring a change of clothes. I once left in an old maternity top of Daughter's, and I still wear it on a weekly basis.

By afternoon I had been peed on too. Funny, how it doesn't bother me anymore.

Famke is at that adorable baby stage where she is ALL smiles and laughs ALL the time. IF YOU HOLD HER. Set her down and she turns into an air raid siren. Pick her up and she smiles and laughs.

I can do amazing things while holding a baby.

It is a blessing indeed that Jonge is thrilled to have Famke around. He likes to make her smile and doesn't mind if I am holding her. ALL THE TIME.

Today Jonge and I made paper hats. Pink and purple tissue paper hats. We also made brown paper bag puppets.

- (here judy trips and falls down memory lane) -

Once, oh about twenty years ago, when I was looking to make a Christmas craft project for my Children's Church class of twenty or so 2-3 year old's I got the idea that I wanted to stamp on those reeeeally small brown paper bags that I remembered getting at the candy store next to my school.

The trouble was, I could not find any. After trying several local candy stores, several not so local candy stores (one in wisconsin) and calling around, THGGM was ready to give up. But, I got this fabulous idea that since he worked in a grocery store, he should just call their supplier and set me up with the tiny brown paper bags that I had my heart set on and would be THE ONLY thing that would make me happy. Clearly, I would not be happy until I had them.

So. He did that. His supplier did not sell the small ones, but they knew a company that did and, that supplier would be happy to sell us the bags. They were sold in lots of one hundred and they also had white bags. The only catch they said, was that we would have to pick them up.

At this point THGGM would have driven to Greenland's icy mountains for them. Because of: A. his undying love for me, or: B. just to have me shut up about them. I'm not sure which, but have always been rather sure that it's best not to ask which.

Whatever. I got my bags.

They came from the old factory-turned-warehouse at the end of our street.

Right at the end of our street. The hideously ugly warehouse that we watched the sun set into every night (and years later watched burn in the most spectacular fire i have ever seen).

That close, those brown paper bags.

- (here judy picks herself up off memory lane and waddles back to the present, pausing ever so briefly to remember where it was she was going) -

Today, Jonge and I made puppets out of two of those brown paper bags.

It was great fun. Jonge catches on quickly to 'pretend'. His hand fit nicely in the small size bag.

I colored the faces on the bags, as Jonge is not allowed to use his crayons presently. He ate one. Fed a few to his dog.

So, Beppe did the coloring, and then we played a rousing game of puppet show.

My puppet's name was Larry. He chose to name his Bob. He names everyone Bob. Famke's name would be Bob were it left up to him.

It was Jonge's idea to add hair to the puppets, allowing them to use his 'pinks' (have i explained this yet? 'pink' is a short length of a pink feather boa that Jonge must have in his grip at all times. i now buy it by the yard).

I tried to coordinate a duet between Bob (bob was clearly a girl) and Larry, but he thought it hysterical to plunk his binky (pacifier) in the puppet's mouth. Causing Larry to sing with his mouth full.

There really isn't any point to where I'm going with this. I DID say it was random. Do these qualify as thoughts, I wonder?

So. It was fun, entertaining and proof that of the 200 bags I purchased over twenty years ago from the bag place at the end of my street, the brown ones were truly a wise investment. I threw the remainder of the white ones away when we moved because they had yellowed over time.

Twenty years ago I had a six year old, a five year old and a three year old. I never imaged that someday, those brown paper bags would be played with by my five year old's one year old son...

...while her three month old baby smiled and laughed in my arms.