Yesterday we went to Babyland General Hospital. It was Caroline’s idea and every 80s girl’s dream. The way she presented her idea was like this:

Can we go to that hospital that has all of the creepy baby dolls that you love so much?

I knew exactly the place. Lucky for her it’s only an hour away from us and I don’t know why we’ve never been before. Oh, yeah. Probably because I’m the only one who really loves those chubby cherubs.

Well, that’s what I thought until yesterday.

Yesterday is the day that Josie fell in love with those yarn-haired babies, too.

On the drive up we stopped at Cool Springs Blueberry Farm to gobble up some berries and see our old friend, and Emily’s former riding trainer, Erik. Just a heads up and a note for you to take down... I do not appreciate blueberries. That’s the nice way of saying “I hate blueberries”. But about 20 minutes into our picking time? I reluctantly tried one.

AND IT WAS DELICIOUS. I don’t know how I went from despising them to loving them, but that’s exactly what happened.

Anyway, back to the hard-headed-but-squishy-bodied-babies.

It is super cute there. They only allow a certain amount of people in at a time. You know, because of The Terrible Awful that’s going around. Plus, everyone had to wear a mask. A very small crowd so I thought it was perfect. The biggest girls were creeped out as soon as they walked in. All those hand-sewn babies standing behind the glass…dressed up like random professionals.

Pffttt. I loved it because I flashed back to my 1983 yellow bedroom with the wicker Moses basket that my hand-sewn Cabbage Patch slept in. Right next to my bed on the floor. Also, there was an Easy Bake Oven and some roller skates, but more importantly, was the yellow yarn haired baby.

Caroline was a little speechless and said “Which doll are you going to talk Josie into getting? And then which one are you going to make me get? And which one will YOU get, Mommy?”

I didn’t get one at all, thankyouverymuch.

The three big girls chose stuffed animals. I guess that place figures not everyone is going to enjoy a doll so they’d make their money somewhere else on those people.

Josie? Josie was like a hummingbird all over that place. Flitter over here. Flutter over there. Stop here. Admire baby. Get distracted. Pull baby out of cabbage leaves. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat again.

She finally chose one (I wasn’t able to talk her into the one *I* wanted) and named her Rosie *doesn’t have a middle name* Gibson.

She doesn’t look like a Rosie to me at all though. In fact, I keep wanting to call her Mia.

On the way out, I asked Josie if she needed to potty. She quickly said no. We went back and forth “discussing” it because we’d been away from the house for several hours by then and it was another hour home. She kept insisting that she didn’t have to go. Well, being the mommy that I am, I took her anyway. I sat her on the potty and low and behold…nothing. She said, “uh huh. I tode you I didn’t need to potty.” So as we were walking out of the bathroom, a mommy was asking her kid if she needed to potty. The kid said no…..

So THEN…Josie abruptly lets go of my hand, steps in front of me with one hand on her hip and says, “See? You hear dat? Dat gurl say she didn’t have to potty and duh mommy say ‘okay honey’! yike dat. Why YOU not do dat? You should be nice yike dat mommy.”

So from now on I will listen the first time? I guess?

And be nice? Probably?

The good news is, she made it all the way home.

The bad news is, she peed in the floor when we got here.

*below are photos of Rosie. Not Mia.