Hannah and I had a few hours this morning on our own while Rachel played with friends. I took her to a small playground. The weather was beautiful. No one was there. (Were they all skiing?)

Who would play with Hannah?

That would be me.

“Babe? Want dinner, Babe?” she asked, coaxing me into the a little playhouse and serving me wood-chips.

Somewhere along the way this past week I went from Baby to Babe.

We pretended to eat our woodchips, cut the piles of “dinner” with our sticks, and then she took my hand and led me outside.

I helped her onto the swing. “Next to me?” she suggested. We swung next to each other for a while.

Then we walked some more and she saw a pail and shovel.

“Shovel, Babe?” she offered, handing me the shovel and encouraging me to fill it up with woodchips as she watched in her maternal way. “No, Babe, like dis.” she said, pouring some woodchips over the bucket and packing it down.

Some more time went by.

Suddenly Hannah sat on the bench.

“Play, Babe!” she ordered, pointing to the play structure. I hesitated and invited her to come climb with me.

“No, Babe, go slide.”

Tentatively, I climbed the steps as she looked on from her position on the bench. I sat on the top of the slide sheepishly looking at the cars driving by. Then I slid down.

This is getting plain old weird.

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Do I ever make you want to be a Mom? It’s a weird question, I know, because most of you already are moms, but I am a finalist at One Women’s World for the “Makes You Want to be a Mom” award. You can vote until Monday, February 27, so make your way over there if you are so inclined. You can only vote once. Thank goodness.

You can vote HERE. You don’t have to come back here and tell me if you did or didn’t. Keep it your secret.

Thanks MommaK, and anyone else who I don’t know about, for nominating me.