Mia's Birthday

Today Mia is one year old. Somewhere her birth mother is sending her best wishes. We return the same to her and are eternally grateful for the gift of life she gave and offer gratitude and prayers for her and her family. We will always treasure and love Mia and wish we could just let her birth mom know Mia is okay and how we have been truly blessed by her selfless act. We feel the tug of the red thread from our hearts to her birth parents' and then to Mia's and we recognize how we have been permanently intertwined. We are grateful to God for the many blessings he has bestowed on our family.

We have a new toaster

Mia, Adian and I bought a shiny new toaster this weekend. They were on sale two for $9 which begs the question, is the toaster cruddy enough that we need to have one in reserve or were the Red Ball store's ad men into the eggnog already? We made the trip armed with fishy crackers to feed Mia. She is beginning to dive for them while you aren't looking and will bite any hand that gets in the way which I believe is her way of keeping us on our feet. So far, its working.

Since I was a little kid I have had a phobia about the toaster burning down the house. Probably a result of my father reminding us to pull the toaster out from underneath the cabinet before deploying it just in case it would catch fire. Considering we had a toaster that would actually launch the toast into the air, a fire was not improbable. The launching toaster, however, was a testament to the many ways my folks found for us kids to get exercise into our day. We'd get our plates, plant our feet securely, load the bread ammo and then chomp at the bit while we waited for the launch of our breakfast. Points were awarded for style and precision. But, we pulled that machine out from under the cabinets before even thinking of pressing the launch button.

So, I've been harassing the husband for a couple of years about the severe and immediate danger presented by a toaster that is used while under the cabinet. Tempting the fire fates I'd say. And then adding that my friend's/neighbor's/co worker's home just burned down, it was sad and the fire investigators were sure it was the toaster that had been callously left by the husband under the cabinets during use. Hard to verify so it made good press. I, however, in my continuous effort to add efficiency to my day had no compunction about pulling the toaster to the safe zone and then stuffing an English muffin in it, turning it on and then going upstairs to get a shower.

Last week, I ran out of English Muffins. So, I found some bagels and stuffed one into the toaster, turned it on and went upstairs to take a shower. When I heard the fire alarms going off, I knew it wasn't the cabinets because, by gosh, I ALWAYS pull the thing out. Our family began our evacuation plan which consisted of our four-year-old grabbing his three member stuffed toy entourage ("the guys") and calmly beginning to evacuate the building while the husband and I ran like hell down the stairs to see if we needed to grab Mia from her bed. Turns out, blueberries are particularly flammable. Who knew? I agreed to not do the same thing again.

I acquired some more English muffins a couple of days later. I stuffed one in the toaster, turned it on and went upstairs to take a shower. When I heard several of the fire alarms going off, I became confused as the muffins didn't have blueberries. The four-year-old told us to let him know if he needed to evacuate because "the guys" were tired. The husband beat me to the kitchen and I found him with a charred and smoking muffin on some kind of stick. I know he said something quite loving like, "Honey, I would hate to have you burned up so perhaps you should change your morning meal to doughnuts" but soley due to the smoke alarm's interference it sounded more like "I thought I asked you not to do this again."

Although it was quite obvious to me, I made sure he knew that I had indeed stuck to the terms of our prior agreement which was that I would not henceforth stuff a bagel into the toaster, turn it on and go upstairs. English muffins were clearly excepted from any prior arrangements. Although I know how much he appreciated my clarification, discussions are not part of my efficient morning routine so I then quickly exited the room to make up for lost time. And made plans to get some fishy crackers and go shopping.

Pizza Guy was almost a Casualty

I don't know who invented those car shopping buggies that look like cars and are best described as the RVs of the grocery store. It had to be a former Kroger or Publix employee with an ax to grind. They really are that bad. Yesterday, I went to build a Habitat House. I felt all of my 94 years going up and down that ladder all day. Not a pretty sight, especially from below. But, as usual, I digress.

So, after the build, my son and I go to the grocery store via Subway which is completely catty-corner from Kroger. We ate and sorted coupons. Life was good. Walking to the Krogerb we found one of those car behemoths in the corner of the lot so Aidan got a ride all the way back to the store. We then prepared for the grocery battle by scrubbing the car thing down with a multitude of saniwipes which are nicely provided at the front door. With alarm, we then realized we had no coupons. So, apparently quite fatigued from the build and not thinking straight, I decided it would be a great idea to give Aidan a ride around the perimeter of the entire lot back to Subway to go coupon hunting. Gravity being what it is, we picked up some serious speed going down one of two hills on the way but lost speed going up one which was a little steeper and caused me to curse the behemoth manufacturer and his mother in no uncertain terms. We found the missing coupons at Subway and began our celebration of the same by turning the RV thing around and starting down the steep hill, all the while whooping for effect as it has been proved that enthusiasm actually causes objects to accelerate. And it gets going. And going. As my feet are doing an impression of the Roadrunner trying to get away from Wiley Coyote, the door to the pizza joint at the bottom of the hill opens and the pizza guy, holding pizzas up in one arm, begins a perilous exit into our path. We are hollering and I can only think of one thing. Lawsuit. Big ugly lawsuit. So we scream louder. And louder. We narrowly miss the guy who gives us his best "they don't pay me enough for this crap" look. So, if your pizza was stuck to the box yesterday, we send our apologies.

Just breathe

So I take the kids to the "red ball" store because Aidan needed new shoes. Mia was just not that impressed with the red ball out front. I'm thinking she got an overdose of red while in China and just isn't that impressed with anything that is that hue even if it is a big ball a little kid can sit on. Obviously she is not a modern art fan. Things went well only as long as I was able to push those fishy crackers in her mouth. But when I was out, she turned into what would be best described as a hostile hydra in a sack - in this case, the Baby Bjorn. It is red, perhaps the problem. I'm starting to think Mia sees red like a bull sees red and half the time I feel like I'm running in Pamploma. Most probably need to get her a bunch of calming lavender stuff. So, the timing of the cracker deficiency was right when we had darn near all the shoes off the rack and on the floor with my four-year-old saying he needed help with the shoes. Over and over. All in all, not a good situation. So, I ask Mia for her help. "Mia, what mommy needs here is your cooperation. Do you want Aidan to have to walk to school barefoot like I did when I was a kid? In the winter?". Doesn't work. The four year-old continues to ask for help in his usual manner, "mommy, mommy, mommy" which is slightly better than how he engages his father, "daddy, Robert!, Robert!," as Aidan has discovered what Robert responds to the quickest. So, while he is mommying me, he also pulls on me for emphasis. I decide to take control of the situation and set him straight so I tell him, "son, this is how the process works. You say "mommy". You then shut your mouth and take a breath. A long one. I will then say "what" at which point you "open your mouth and tell me what it is that you want to tell me." As the hydra continues to wiggle and kick, I suggests he immediately applies the lesson to our communications. And then I heard the laughing from the other side of the shoe aisle. I picked up a shoe and lobbed it over the rack. Okay, not really but I did try to put my boxes back on hard enough to cause those on the other side to fall off. Wasn't successful. We did find where they kept the fishie crackers though.

Write your own caption. Really.

Adian played soccer this year. His father took this picture. I'm not sure what they were doing. Perhaps practicing to hit the ball off their heads without actually having to get beaned in the head with the ball. Or not. My guess - the coach was tired of running around and siad to his wife - hey, watch what I can get them to do... Have to admire that in a sporting professional.

Sleeping is Optional

So, I thought the days and nights thing was worked out. Not so. Mia has apparently decided that she wants to play between 3-5 am which is fine except I do not. Nor does her brother or father. Mia has also decided that her crib is not an appropriate place to play between the hours of 3-5 am. I was all set up to duct tape a itty bitty book light to the side of her crib so I could just roll over and turn it on for her and she could go to town biting her stuffed animals, an activity that is paired with maniacal screaming and is of great concern to the cat in the home. Or, she could continue her expirements on the force of gravity that she has been conducting by tossing her stuff out of the crib and watching the results. I would have to stock the crib, however, as the gravity tests seem to go rather quickly and are not at all standardized. Meanwhile, I could just roll over and go back to sleep as maniacal screaming and stuffed animal abuse does not keep me awake. The crying, on the other hand, does. I had a talk with her this morning to explain my position and also provided her with what specific outcomes I expect from our discussion. However, since I have no leverage, I may just begin catching up on ER between the aforementioned hours.

The big dress up

So, Mia was a flower for Halloween. Oddly, she didn't object. But we covered all the mirrors just in case she were to see that she was dressed up like a green sausage flower. It worked. We also didn't mention the dreaded "hat" word around her. Mia just has a thing with hats. At some point, she must have tangled with one. Or, it is just her strong will to soundly and routinely defy what we would like her to do, as well as to ignore the word "no" or being removed from doing whatever it is by either parent or her brother. For example, we have suggested, quite strongly at times, that she desist from trying to make a fast crawl off the bed onto the floor or whatever sharp of hard objects she could hit on the way down. For some reason, her prior dives off the bed onto her head didn't leave a negative impression as she has been working her hardest to do so again. Perhaps the solution is to keep her in the flower costume but add several inches of padding to the hat.

Both of the kids really enjoyed Halloween. Aidan figured out the candy haul aspect and made sure we went to every house in the neighborhood, no matter that we were the last two people out there. I think he had calculated that if he were to appear to be the last kid coming for the night, he would get several candy bowls emptied into his bag. Or, perhaps that was my suggestion, and I was just thinking out loud. I do love that chocolate.

Halloween