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Brunch with Barack Yes, it's Wednesday. The day when things get interesting chez Rowley because I am home alone with them. And by "them" I mean my gorgeous girls who are now sleeping. Hallelujah! I simply cannot wait for them to wake up and keep kicking my puny play and sing and smile.

Truth be told it has been a good day. My only complaint is that I am very sticky. Impossibly sticky. My fingers are sticky and now so is Laptop. In fact, the theme of the day is sticky. Stick with me (ha!)

Toddler decided it was story time and picked a book and opened it and began to read it to Baby and me. Promptly, Baby pulled up and ripped two pages out of the book. Tears. Toddler proclaimed: "I need sticky tape. Now!" I was on it! Actually Husband was on it because he hadn't left for work yet. Before I knew it those pages were patched and then, like magic, there was sticky tape all over our living room! Because everything needed fixing! The coffee table and the sippy cups and the pretzel sticks and, wait, my knee too! What an ambitious way to start the day.

Against my better judgment, we headed out. Three feet from home, I realized that the double stroller had a pair of flat tires. Too bad we didn't bring the sticky tape with us because these wheels needed fixing. And fast. I pushed that lame stroller five blocks to the local bike shop. The man immediately recognized me, took one look at that stroller, and shook his head in judgment as if I had done something to flatten those tires. He pumped us up and I slipped him a twenty.

Quick stop at Starbucks to pick up brunch. In our world, brunch = venti iced coffee for moi, chocolate milk and Madeleines for Toddler. Baby was preoccupied with the monster bagel I trusted her with. She gnawed on it expertly. Grub in tow, we headed for Turtle Pond in the park. Once there, we founded a shaded spot and I spread out our picnic blanket and the three of us relaxed. And by relax, I mean ate grass and chased windblown Starbucks napkins and did our best to get as sticky as possible with whatever we could. In no time, Toddler was covered in chocolate milk, Baby in jarred mangos, and I was soaked with sweat.

And then! Baby investigated the diaper bag. And by investigate, I mean removed and sucked on every item in there. And Toddler investigated our stroller base. I sat there, enjoying the sweet breeze, and I heard it. "Mommy, it's Barack Obama!" I looked around. And there he was, smaller than I imagined him. And missing legs. But good-looking as ever. And then my darling Toddler pranced around with the little leader of the free world. I was so proud of her. (In the event that you are confused, it was a finger puppet. Obvi.)

Baby wasn't so impressed. She was more awestruck by my vast plastic Starbucks cup. To each her own.

starbucks cup

I did a marvelous job of keeping an eye on my girls. Both of them. Soon, I saw Toddler and baby Barack a fair distance away near the fence. And then. The flashes. The frenzy. The Tourist Paparazzi. They giggled and snapped away. Not sure whether they thought Toddler was a celebrity, or just plain adorable, or whether they laid eyes on tiny Barack who hung out, playing it cool on Toddler's finger?


I didn't want all of this attention to go to Toddler's head (or to Barack's) and nap time approached anyway, so we packed up and headed home. And thank goodness there were ice cream guys stationed every three yards! Because none of us was quite sticky enough yet. Almost. But not quite. I didn't even put up a fight. I paid the nice man three dollars and then traded Toddler SpongeBob for Barack. And we waltzed home, strolling on newly fixed and firm wheels. And when we got home, I peered over the stroller canopy and almost screamed. Blood! Everywhere! But mothers are not allowed to scream. So I didn't. And, anyway, it was not blood. Just Popsicle juice that was red and streaming down my little girl's arm like blood. Sticky indeed. Thankfully, Barack was safe on my finger. Phew.

bloody popsicle

Just another sweet and sticky day with the girls and that tiny little president. Now I will post this and remove the scotch tape from various parts of my body and scrub my hands. And Laptop's keys. And wait eagerly for those blue eyes to open.

Yesterday & Tomorrow

ILI Interview: Author Julie Buxbaum