Jane, Mabel, and I spent a rainy afternoon at home yesterday by ourselves. It’s a long story, but it  was nice to have a change of pace on a stormy, cold Monday. Life is moving at a break neck speed lately, and on top of it, I had to take a round of steroids this past week. Um. Whoa. Let’s never do that again. Slowing down was probably medically necessary. I unlatched sane-Liz who was handcuffed in the back of my brain. She rubbed her wrists and shook her finger at me.

“Never ever take steroids again. You are not Hulk Hogan. You aren’t big enough to back up that mouth of ours. Now go take a long bath and let’s get back to normal.”

I can’t believe we’re already wrapping up February. My birthday month. Freezing, rainy weather is hanging on with it’s fingernails, refusing to let go. This morning the run-off ravine behind the house was roaring, a tiny river. Mabel really doesn’t care for it. I caught her standing at the back fence, looking down like, “Guys. Is that a giant swirling bathtub? Cause you know how I hate baths and this is not cool.”

Jane is a toddler. A terrible-two’s toddler. She slings around the word no for everything.

“Jane, would you like to eat some dinner?”

“Noo, yes.”

“Jane, would you like to read your favorite book?”

“Noo, yes.”

“Jane, would you like to take a bath.”

“No.”

Oh well. It’s my bad for asking a question I already know the answer to. Her personality gets bigger and bigger by the day. She loves to laugh and laugh and laugh. She tries to make jokes. She is really quick to notice if anyone passes gas and then yells, “Poo Poo? Poo Poo?”

I love every single second with her, good and bad. I miss her after we put her to bed at night. Being her parent is the greatest job in the whole world, even when I’m tired. Even when I’m on steroids.