Eaten by balls. And she liked it.

I took the girls to Ikea today to see if I could pick up a present for a friends birthday party tomorrow (shut up, I always leave such things for the last minute... or forget entirely, so this is actually a huge accomplishment). I realized that Lily was now tall enough and potty learned enough to hang out in the play area while I shopped with just one child. “OK kid, do you want to come with me to look for Nina’s present or do you want to stay here and play?”


You got it.

I signed her in and headed up the stairs, stopping half way up to watch her remove her shoes while chatting with the attendant. I was nervous about leaving her, but she clearly had no such issues. So off I went, occasionally fiddling with the little paper bracelet they had wound around my arm, wondering if she was ok and listening intently every time the intercom interrupted the music. I was fully expecting a voice to pipe up with, “Will the mother of the incredibly distraught three-year-old please stop neglecting her child and come get her? We’re going to report you to CPS if you’re not here in 30 seconds.” Strangely, the voice never sounded.

Anya and I quickly found the items I wanted and then I decided to go stare longingly at the kitchens. Lovely kitchens. Functional kitchens. Kitchens that don’t make me scream, “GAHHHHHH!” every night. Sigh.

After about thirty minutes I decided I should go collect Lily and so headed for the “ballroom” (seriously, people? The “ballroom”?) and as I approached, Lily noticed me through the big glass window.


She took a run at the stairs and threw herself, full force, off the landing and into the ball pit. I think it was actually a cannon ball. It was freaking beautiful.

Ah yes. Ikea and I are about to become very friendly.