Baby Tiger

Mama, she said, Baby tigers don't roar. Then she giggled.

image from

Mister was out of town on business through Saturday evening. What's an exhausted mama to do on a probably rainy day with her cubs?

Moomah for breakfast! We shared oatmeal and greek yogurt and put it all away. I don't think I've seen Carver eat so much.

Then to the Children's Museum of the Arts grand opening of its new space on Charlton St. I wanted to take us last winter, but we never made it for the drop-in art. Hopefully, we'll get it together this fall/winter.

The street was packed with strollers, toddlers, and parents. After doodling on a sidewalk paper, we moved on to go inside until we saw the face-painting.

Face-painting, like bubbles, strollers, and dollies, is like crack for children. If you bend, you are committed. Do not think of getting out of line. Two hours (TWO) later, the baby tiger was born.

(Why two hours? I thought it would take 30. You tell your child, who is now missing lunch and getting close to nap, that you aren't waiting anymore and wait for the hysterics and you decide if it's worth it. To me, it was not. We were all tired, kind of happy, but tired, so waiting was the way to go. We weren't alone. The parent grumbles were loud: ONE face-painting artist (and how her hand didn't seize up, I don't know) for the opening of a children's art museum? And, she did detailed faces. Last year, Juniper got a sweet little bumble bee in longer time. Sweet, but not as beautiful. 

Baby Tiger was thrilled. Each child was thrilled the second the artist flipped a mirror up for them to see, up cracked wide grins and sparkles where uncertainty had been over what was going on with the brushes and cold and sponges and glitter. She smiled and waved at people all the way home. 

Two hours is nothing. Rawr!


For those of you wondering, Carver will get his day on the blog. It's tough at nine months in the city. He's in a carrier or stroller a lot. We don't have the luxury of the mamas' group we were part of when Juniper was born. (I'm still tight with them, thank goodness! Ten out of eleven have had or are having our second … it's different this time for all of us.)

Baby Tiger

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