“I’ll be big as a house!” Scarlett giggled to her friend.
But she knew.
Centrally located, inexpensive, and large.
Some of the rooms needed makeovers.
The pink room. Perhaps all of them, in fact.
But she was up for the task, particularly with Velma’s help. Being on main street in the rural town would alleviate the shock of leaving the city. Scarlett hoped.
The bakers arrived in the wee morning hours, and Scarlett hoped that a little clinking and activity would also ease the adjustment.
One of them was rather handsome, too!~
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About AngelaLTodd
I am queen of the helicopter parents. But there are enough of us that we are becoming a social problem. Here’s my story.
Thing 1 was coming, they couldn’t stop him, it was only 24 weeks and 3 days. Someone asked: should we try to save him? Well, yes. Yes! Ten days later, a team of doctors closed the door behind us to explain brain bleeds, sepsis, meningitis. Shall we pull the plug? Well, no. No!
Babydaddy laid hands on him every day, massaged him when he was ready. For the three months he was in intensive care, and the three weeks at an intermediate hospital, I would get up in the night and pump breast milk, thinking about my baby across town. Babydaddy delivered it every morning, earning the name “milkman.” It was funny.
We had every therapy going for as long as possible: early intervention, the intermediate unit, private therapies. Terms multiplied: sensory processing dysfunction, sensory integration problems, orally defensive, auditory sensitivities, comprehensive developmental delay, cognitive function impairment, retinopathy of prematurity. He did occupational therapy, physical therapy, speech therapy, play therapy; we consulted with a neurologist, school psychologist, wraparound service provider, developmental specialist. He worked with an occupational therapist for a year and a half to tolerate teeth and hair brushing.
Not surprisingly, parenting didn’t feel natural. I learned to read to my baby watching Phyllis, our physical therapist. Voices, commentary, labeling colors, counting… she was very good! Merging professional research skills with my genetic propensity for silliness (mom was class clown, dad’s distantly related to Lucille Ball), my mothering style came together. Eventually. But I still channel Phyllis on occasion.
Thing 2 was full term. They are complete opposites; she is a sensory seeker with a wild sense of adventure and an inventive sense of fashion. Keeping them both busy and happy is an exasperating and sweet challenge. I still believe that every day can be fun and educational while reinforcing kids' boundaries. I’m on a mission to save us helicopter parents from ourselves. No more bubble wrapped kids and guilty parents. Let’s teach them coping skills. Let’s get fun.
AngelLeighDesigns 
Hi Angela,
Thank you for such a nice comment on my Etsy shop! I love your short story and appreciate your including one of my photographs too!
Ciao,
Suzanne
Ooops! I am so sorry if I misspelled your name.
I don’t think you did, hon.
have a good’n!
x
a
Thanks, Suzanne,
I just love your shop, and your blog, too!
happy fall,
xx
a