You may not be able to see this urban version of playing in the sun, if that is the case, click on the boxes for some Little Lassie love.

Lately, FlyGuy as been more appreciative of my wife and mothering efforts. This praise culminated with him calling me the Mother of the Year and the Wife of the Year when he saw me make Little Lassie sunshine toast. I’m not really used to all this positive attention, but it has really been nice to feel so appreciated. Part of me wants to ask him why he is buttering me up. Is there a bomb about to be dropped or is he finagling funds for a new costly, useless hobby?

I think he is noticing this past month I have been making a point to cook and clean like a professional since I gave up my career when I became a mother a year ago. In my mind, I like to think I traded one profession, teaching, for another, mothering. I have a long way to go before I work the kinks out of my mothering style, but I’m enjoying the process. Even though motherhood is not exactly a profession, all the responsibility and accountability that go along with it makes it feel like a full time job. My bonuses don’t come in monetary form, but when Little Lassie sings, “Hi Mommy” when I greet her in the mornings, I feel like the most important woman in the world.

FlyGuy is out of town again this week and something strange happened the other night. On Monday, at about 11pm I was walking to our bedroom and the dog was in front of me trying to beat me there as usual. Fidget suddenly stopped and began cowering a few feet from the bedroom door. She was staring up at something/nothing and would not budge. I couldn’t prod her to go forward for at least a minute- a long time in dog years. Fidget was skittish the rest of the night. The incident gave me shivers, but I ignored it and needing to get a good night’s sleep, made sure not to watch Paranormal*State.

A few hours later, at about 1am, Little Lassie woke up laughing hysterically like she was being tickled. I mean, a loud, belly full of fun, please stop tickling me because I can’t breathe laugh. I tried to ignore it, thinking she woke up from a funny dream, but it was still odd because she rarely wakes up in the middle of the night and if she does, she’s always crying, not laughing. The laughter went on for a minute or two and then Little Lassie happily babbled for a while and eventually fell asleep. Weird. I mean, Little Lassie is the perfect child (said her doting mother) but she’s normal- she doesn’t poop rainbows or anything and she never wakes up in the middle of the night laughing. She cries, like every other baby I know.

Have you ever heard of babies waking up laughing in the middle of the night? I’m not sure what is going on around here, but if we have a ghost it obviously prefers Little Lassie to Fidget. Is it bad that I hope it continues to prefer Little Lassie and leave me alone?