Cultural Heritage by Rolling Pin

Do you ever buy tortillas at the grocery store?  But have you ever read the ingredients?!  There is so much multi-syllabic (excuse my french but) crap in there it's crazy.  Do you know what belongs in tortillas?  Flour.  Water, shortening, salt.  So what's all that extra partially-hydrogenated thisnthat in there for?! 
Before Little One won the soybean challenge, all that (excuse my french but) crap also meant that She couldn't eat them.  And I thought.  Here I am.  The grand-daughter of a Mexican.  And I'm eating these fake, nastified, gringo-tortilla wannabe things and my baby gets nada to scoop Her frijoles with.  Something wrong with this picture. 
So Little One and I took out the whopping 4 items we needed (we just used soy-free vegetable oil instead of shortening in Hers) and said, (excuse our French but) olvidale crappy gringo-tillas! We'll make our own! 
With a little  help from Her lovely assistant, Little One mixed up Her ingredients. 

She patted the dough into little spheres. 

She rolled them out into ciruelas

And carried them into the cocina. 

We cooked them up, easy as pie.  Actually a lot, lot easier than pie.

And we bundled them all warm and yummy around our fajitas.

Little One said it best (no French needed). 







"Delicioso!"  










I'm pretty sure we can never go back to tortillas that need French to describe them.  Which is sort of a blasphemous thing to do to a tortilla, really (as is adding mono-di-gluta-expialidocious for no good reason). These were so easy, fun to make together, and so, so, SO much yummier than store-bought.   If you want to try it yourself and want to use a recipe, I suggest you check out this one at The Vagabond Table.  As the New Mexican in me would say, "hijole! so gooooooood!"

...But It Is.

Out of the blue a few days ago:

J: "So...C?"
C: "Yep?"
J: "So....which one of us do you think is more likely to go crazy?"
C: "You".
J: "...you answered that fast..."
C: "Yup. You. Why?"
J: "...I was just thinking that our life is great".
C: "Yeah....?"
J: "Well, I was thinking that our life is so great. But, then again, I guess everyone's life is great at some point, right? Then someone just goes crazy."
C: "Aw. Worried that it's all too good to be true, Love?"
J: "well...kinda."

I laughed at him gently, gave him a kiss and kept folding laundry.
And said fevered prayers of thankfulness in my heart.  Because that is what I do, when I see that my husband and I are on the Same Page.  It's not uncommon.  But not to be taken for granted. 
Too good to be true... 
The truth is we do this sometimes, in various ways.  We plow through life, steeling against it and digging in the balls of our feet and grinding forward; weighing the options, paying the bills, taking turns, giving things up, taking things on.  And then every so often, we stop.  We shift our weight back to our heels for a moment, hold hands, wipe our brow, look around.  And then we look at each other in wonder asking, "Really? We did all this? Is it ours? To keep? It's lovely!" We put our arms back out before us and push ahead some more.
In truth there's not a lot to show.  In truth, this will go down as a tough stretch in our historical narrative.  J working long, hard hours.  Working long and hard every day.  Coming home to take out the trash,  clean up after dogs, enforce time-outs. Never getting enough sleep. Me working long, hard hours.  Trying to keep things together when my body is already occupied with the work of adding to our future chaos.  Chopping and cooking things that become nothing but a mess a few hours later.  Cleaning and cleaning things that are instantly dirty again; Sisyphus with a sponge and mop.  Being alone most of the time, and at the same time never alone for a second.
It's hard.  It's not going to turn anyone green with envy.
But the truth is that despite the Hard, despite the Tired and the Mundane and the Overwhelming-at-times- this is what we hoped for.
Plowing through life, side-by-side.  Our home is perpetually skimming a sea of disarray, sometimes dipping its toes in or taking a quick dive.  It's small and getting smaller.  It's got its share of aggravations.  But it's nice.  It's warm and it has things we need, things we like, things we saved for.  It has little hooks and shelves in all the convenient places.  
We spend every spare second we might have for ourselves attending to the needs, the wants, the whims of our small child. She is demanding, She is exhausting, She is ceaseless.  But She is our greatest source of joy and light. She is enough reason, enough compensation, for this hard work.  This sweating and building and honing of a Life.
We feel like we rarely see each other. But when we do, we bask in the togetherness, we hold fast to each other, we push on with our shoulders touching. 
It's not the easiest life, not the fanciest life.  But it's not the hardest, not so rough at the edges.  What it is, is steady and safe and calm; a haven.  What it is, is honest and well-intentioned.  What it is, is full of love, full of happy, full of trying our very best.
It's more than enough to work hard for.  It's more than enough to be thankful for and to relish.
It's just plain More Than Enough.
Almost too good to be true. 

Good Egg, Bad Egg

A few days ago, Dr. Allergy called and said that Little One's IGE levels had fallen low enough that She was, as we had hoped, a candidate for another food challenge! We were so excited that he even sweet-talked the staff into squeezing us in the very next morning!
We were there, early and chipper and with J's mom along to entertain us, and we made it through the first two "doses" with no problems!
Then came the hives.
I and blamed them on the toy she had picked up in the waiting area.
So we waited awhile and repeated the same dose once more (about the size of half a pea). I kept Her in my lap, touching nothing.
And then came the hives.
There was a consult. There was the consideration of rare, one in a million chances that the test could have been thrown off by one thing or another. All discounted.
Fail.
Dr. Allergy says he almost never sees a reaction during a food challenge. But Little One is special, as we know.
So eggs remain off the list for at least a year, and everything else is too high to even think about until then. But, honestly, if I had to have picked one for Her to ditch, it would be the soy, and so I think we lucked out.
Thankfully, there was grandma. Whew! And a LOT of stickers. And nothing worse than hives. And despite being awakened early, forced to sit still for hours, getting itchy, and being compensated by two shots in the leg and then getting kept out and about all afternoon without a nap (so that J could go home and sleep, having just returned from working like mad in the ICU for 30 hours straight), despite all that She was full of sweetness. She hung in there like a champ.
What can I say? She's a good egg.
As for the rest of them- I say eggs are over-rated anyways! Forget you eggs! We'll see you suckers in a year and see how tough you feel then! Ha!

Things I Love

I need a new category.
If I have one called "ranting", I should balance that out, no? There are some things that make my heart sing. I think I will try to make a habit of sharing those. In case they become like that horrific "cal-i-forn-ia girls" song and become totally contagious and embedded in your psyche, so that whether you like it or not, your heart sings too.
So here are some things that make my heart sing. Things I Love.
This time, because it's so easy- Things I Love about Little One:

*How She mispronounces certain words. Like
Shish (fish) or
Tursey (thirsty) or
Buh-lal-er-la-ler (Banana)

*How She thinks that "balance" and "bounce" sound the same. So during clean-up time when I ask Her to put away Her tea-tray, and to be careful to balance it, She holds it gingerly, and walks so carefully to the shelf... bouncing at the knees every other step. Repeating softly to Herself, "bounce, bounce, bounce".

*That She puts "yah" at the end of everything, and it makes everything cute.
As in a statement, to solidify a decision or argument: "Mommy, this book, yah. Yah mommy, this one. Not this one. This one, yah. Yah mommy."
Or (in the middle of the night) "Thirsty! Thirsty Yah! Water yah mommy! Water Yah!"
Or as a question:
"Cracker? Yah? Little One cracker mommy? Yah? Mommy? Cracker ya?"
or "This? This bug? Yah mommy? Bug yah?" No, hon, it's a raisin. But still, you are a cutie.

*That when She has bad dreams She calls out for "tuckies" and "snuggles" from down the hall.

*That She reads Her books to the doggies while they lie in their beds.

*That She reads Her books "to the baby" while we cuddle in mine. Occasionally patting my tummy and showing it the pictures.

*That She either pretends or believes that if She looks right into my belly button, She can see the "tiny baby". Babies look like lint, perhaps? Could be. Kind of a Rorschach thing, I suppose.

*That She never fails to say "bleff you!" when someone sneezes.

*That She still loves Her tea parties, and loves them best when we all attend. And that, while She meticulously sets out dishes and plastic food for us all, She brings an extra cup to my spot. "Mommy, this one, no you. This one special. This for baby."
She holds it up to my belly button. And dabs it with a napkin.

The Kids In The Hood

Our neighborhood has a lot of kids in it. A LOT of kids. They swarm the area behind my house, where the pond and the playground are. They seemed to reach a critical mass in the thick of last summer, when it felt like the area was positively teeming, saturated, with children.
These children started to drive me crazy.
If they had parents, instead of being a Lord of the Flies camp in action as I suspected, they were never anywhere to be found. They were SO. LOUD. Screaming, hollering, whooping, singing, swearing, yalping, whistling, shrieking. By the dozens! An endless cacophony streaming in the windows on the soft warm air.
They were always irritating me; terrorizing the stragglers, harassing the animals, pulling branches off the trees, leaving wrappers everywhere.
Finally, I decided, that's It!
I created a weapon. I grabbed my back-up (Little One), and I hit the playground to combat the obnoxiousness. It was a large force I was up against, but this, Peanuts, was not my first picnic.
I happen to have a battle plan; finely honed over years of facing unruly bunches of short people.
So here is what I did:
I went to the playground. And I played.
I talked directly to every kid, I gathered up their names. I came back, every day. They started to get kinda used to me. (I'm so sneaky!) They started to play with Little One. (It's working!) I started to have their names memorized. (I've got you now!) And then I brought out the Weapon. The big guns. Loaded! With chocolate chips.
COOKIES. Oh yes I did.
And that was it. The kids and me? We were Friends. You may not think, at first, that this is the best way to fight an enemy, but it is! Especially small, sneaky ones.
Because the thing is, once we were friends, and we played together, and we laughed together, and we had a serious mutual respect and trust going, they started to care. To care about Little One, and to care what I think.
So, suddenly, a casual conversation about what "mental disability" is wasn't a lecture, so much as a chat that got some boys thinking, and now a certain someone has a group of protectors rather than teasers. Suddenly, a disapproval of littering, and praise for picking up trash translates to a way to impress a friend. "See, C? I always put my wrapper in the trash can" and "Hey! Hey! I do too!!" Heh, heh.
Suddenly, I can yell from my back deck, "Hey guys, She's taking a nap!" and the decibels fall. Or, "LJ Brian you had better leave those geese alone!" and LJ is embarassed. LJ is ashamed. LJ doesn't chase the geese.
In fact, it's surprising how much of a deterrent it is, just to know that there is a grown up watching, who cares, and who knows your NAME.
And if that grown up is someone who doesn't just yell at you, but who respects you, who you like, well. Then you might not even want to act up behind their back...especially if the grown-up is friends with all the other kids...who will tell on you.
Oh yes. These days, not a whole lot goes on in the Land of the Flies that I don't hear about. And I know everyone well enough to know who are the real trouble-makers, who are the followers, who are the peacemakers. It makes it a lot easier to deal with problems as they arise, knowing how each kid responds to different tactics.
And, to be honest, now that they're all my little buddies, the noise just doesn't bother me so much. And some of the annoyances are not such a bad trade-off for the fact that Little One now has a Legion of admirers.
She calls to them from the deck and they flock to talk to Her and make faces so She'll laugh. "Mommy mommy! Friends outside! Friends! Playground please, please mommy!" We go and someone sees us coming. "Little One's here! Little One's here!" and they all come running. They line up to hug Her, and give Her sticks and freshly picked weeds, and fight over who gets to push Her in the swing first. They teach Her how to climb the ladder, hold Her hand on the bridge, and make sure She always gets a turn.
Little One is by far the little one in the group; the next youngest in the "regular" crowd is nearly 4, most are between 6 and 10. But they all adore Her, and are never too cool for Her to kiss them. And when there is a new kid on the playground, they always introduce both of us as their friend.
In a way, it's added more noise to our lives, rather than less. After too many days of 5 and 6 rings of the doorbell asking if we could come out and play, I had to institute a "no ringing, no knocking, unless someone is bleeding or broken" rule.
J sometimes gets home to find a half dozen children giggling in the living room, or "helping" me make dinner, or knotted around the stoop, trying to make Little One laugh through the glass door.
But Little One does laugh, and it's lovely. I get my groceries carried in by 6th graders, in exchange for the bragging right of calling out from my deck that they're in C's house. My dog gets more fetch, wrestles, pats and ear scratches than he knows what to do with. I am fairly confident that no matter what goes down in my neighborhood, no one is going to mess with my house, my yard, or my car. Not with my little fleet of spies and guards running in the streets. I know no one will dare mess with my baby. And, I get to play. I get to talk about things like what is the best amusement park ride ever, or how high does the highest tree in the whole world probably grow. And I always, always, have a reason to bake cookies.

Amarillo

Reading in our Spanish book:

C: "This color is on sunflowers, bananas, and lemons. Que color es este?"

Little One: "Ah-mommy-mio!"

Amusement Park Report: Amusing!

Our adventures to Six Flags were a success!
They might have been even more fun if:
- She had taken a nap at any point in the day
- The website advertising over 20 rides for people under 36" had mentioned that for most of them the little person is required to ride with another child over 36".
- and/or we'd had the forethought to buy some really tiny, but really tall platform shoes for Little One ahead of time.



But! The weather was amazing, the lines for mini-rides were also mini, and there was a playground and a fountain.

And we did find a few friendly older kids willing to pretend they were a sibling. For some of the really crazy rides, like this train that went in a circle at 0.5 MPH. Woo. Hoo.

• 

There were also some fun ones that She could go on with an adult, so we all had fun together.


And, She rode Her first ever roller coaster! Actually it was pretty fast and furious, relatively speaking. She rode it once, and then said, "No no Mama, that one too big. Little too big. 'Nother time, that one." Those darn Six Flags people and their "safety". They're turning Her soft, I tell you!

Maybe Her threshold for thrills was just a little low that day. Because at the end, when it started to get dark, there was a Halloween "un-scary" area, where Little One got to Trick-or-treat (for chocolate to feed Her unborn sibling.) and then go on a hay ride.
The hay ride was for children only. You load them up in a wagon, wave bye-bye, and watch them roll off into the dry-ice mist and twinkling jack-o-lantern lights. Little One had no qualms. "Bye Mommy!" without even looking at me.

And I got a little of that mist in my eyes. My baby! Getting so grown up! Doesn't even need Her mommy! J and I waited. We got the camera ready for the arrival shot. And....

A round of "Awwwww!" from the waiting parent crowd. A look of panic in the girl sitting next to Her. Apparently, She had put Her arm over the side, and the girl pulled it back in. Stranger danger! Someone touched my arm! Mommy! Daddy! I can't see you in the fog! AHHH!

So maybe She's still my baby, just a little bit.

The Girl Loves a Challenge

After the big challenge today... I have Nothing to report. Nothing!
Thanks for all your well-wishes and prayers for the Nothing. It was just what we wanted!
We had a slightly worried moment when a hive popped up on Her back. But, there was another child in there having a dairy challenge, and the hive occurred right after Dr walked in and said, "I don't think they should be playing together". Keeping the kiddos apart + the wonderful nurse meticulously wiping down everything in the room for us = success! Take that soy!
Plus, She loved- I mean loved- the soy milk. She took shots out of the plastic medicine cup with an enthusiasm and expertise that would make any frat boy proud. Then She'd say, "MMmmm. MMMMMmmm!! Yummy, Mommy. Smeshal milk treat. More please!"
We spent 5 hours in the clinic today, but it was well worth it.
The amount of options open to Her now are mind boggling. Seriously, I'm boggled! Because:

1) Crackers, bread, canned soup, lunch meat...the list is endless, that She could almost have before, and then the last ingredient was a soy derivative, or it was processed in a facility blah blah blah. Now ok!

2) She can soon stop drinking the specialized formula (which is a pain to get and costs the Navy about $80 a week) and switch to Smeshal Milk.

3) Baking will be a breeze. A breeze!

4)She can have the same dinner as we do most of the time now! Especially because:

5)Soy is the ultimate James Bond Spy of food items. It can be disguised as anything. So now, even though She still has other allergies, She can have "cheese". "Yogurt", "ice cream", "peanut butter"...tons of stuff, made from soy. Not that it's the same, exactly. But close enough that She won't have to feel quite so left out.

She can take vitamins now. She can use more kinds of soap and shampoo. It's a new world out there for Little One! You probably can't tell I'm excited. But I am!
We celebrated tonight by making chicken with a honey-soy sauce glaze for dinner. I had minor moments of panic as She helped me cook,when She'd touch the soy sauce bottle or the dish we mixed it in. This will take a little getting used to! For me. Not for Little One. More food to eat? More new things to try? What's to get used to, this is great!

This gives me hope that other allergies will drop off as we go, maybe soon. In fact, we have a blood test for eggs pending that will tell us whether She can take those suckers on in another challenge this year. Sort of amazing after everything that She's been through. You know. Hope tastes just as good as Smeshal Soy Milk. Mmmmm. I'm liking it.

Praying for Nothing

Today we went to the allergist. Who is the best allergist of all time.
Not just because I credit him with saving Little One's life and well-being, but because he is just an awesome, awesome doctor. The man knows everything. And he will be happy to take the time to print up all the medical research, statistics, graphs and charts and illustrated micro-biology text that has informed him. Plus he happens to be a super nice guy, and Little One likes him. BEST OF ALL TIME. Well. Today I have even more reason to like him, because we (for once!) got some good news.
For one, he says he is "cautiously optimistic" about Her future allergic-ness. Which is a big jump in the hopeful direction from where we were last spring! For two, he is optimistic enough about Her soy allergy, that he thinks there is a chance She has outgrown it. ! !!!! !!!!!!!!!!
IN FACT, Peanuts- excuse me while I dance a little jig as I type- tomorrow is a very big day for Little One. She is going to spend the morning with the Best Allergist of All Time, having a Soy challenge!
No, no. Not an obstacle course with a wading pit of edamame at the end, or a wrestling match in a baby pool full of tofu. Though that might be more fun.
She will be given some soy milk, a tiny drop at first, then increasing amounts over time. And we wait. And we watch. And if She goes into anaphalactic shock, there is a doctor and nurse ready with a crash cart and epipens. And if She has a small reaction, some hives maybe, we get a little dejected, pat each other on the back and say, "better luck next time".
BUT! BUT!! But, if nothing happens, and She can get through just 3 ounces of the stuff safe and sound, She will be considered "cured" of the soy allergy. ! !!!!!
Of all Her allergies, soy is the one that is hardest to avoid. Go grab a package of food. Anything. I bet you there is soy something in there. It seems that just about anything that comes in a package or wrapper has soy. Soy additives, soybean oil, soy-based emulsifiers, something. Plus, we eat a lot of fake meat and tofu around here- all soy. It would be great not to worry about letting Her touch it, great not to have to fix Her meal separately as often. And, most of all, great because it is the one allergy I worry most about other people accidentally giving Her. Most people don't realize how pervasive it is.
The Challenge (AKA "Hey, let's give Her some and see what happens!" ) doesn't seem like the most impressive medical technology. But it's the only surefire way to know what tests can only give hints about. So even though I know there is a real risk to this test, with Her ige levels She has about a 73% chance of passing it. Not too bad, right? And the potential benefits are, I think, worth the potential risk, considering we will be under the watchful eye of the Best Allergist of All Time and his wonderful staff.
I did not mean for this post to get so long. If you're still reading it, I will continue with my hyperbole and dub you the Best Blog Reader of All Time!
So, Best Reader of All Time, if you're awake at 7am eastern time tomorrow, please send some positive thoughts out our way. Keep your fingers crossed for Little One that we have made a good decision, and that it will pay off. Please say some prayers for us, that tomorrow when She faces Her challenge, we will wait, and watch. And that there will be Nothing.

Adventure Tale

Trying to explain to Little One what was in store for the day, I took the long shot of asking if She remembered going on a ride at carnival. She just kinda stared at me. No worries, it's a lot to ask a 2 year old to recall something that happened months ago. But then She nodded slowly and said, "ya daddy. Daddy ride, mommy no. No mommy ride, daddy. Man. Man help, big rope. Nice man. Ride, ride, around around around! Fast ride, daddy. Yay!"
A pretty perfect synopsis of climbing into the tilt-a-whirl with J and having the carnival-guy strap them in. And She's right- mommy did not ride. Mommy could barely watch the "around around". She was thrilled to learn that we were going to take Her to a fun place with more rides today, and I knew She would be. Because this girl is a dare-devil.
She proceeded to remember all the other rides She went on at the carnival, too.
"Car go, drive around some more. Drive car ride, another car! Nother car!"

"'Copter one. Up, up, up! Copter ride fly, other kids fly copter. Kids nice, copter nice. Rope copter, too."

"kid ride, up up walk, stuck knees. Kids come, up up, climb, slide. Yaaaaay!"

This one was the craziest. It was supposed to be for people over 3 feet tall. But this was in J's hometown, in very rural Maryland, where really, safety was not a featured attraction. She said She wanted to go. So, because I am a crazy person and the ticket lady didn't care, I sent Her in. Alone. To navigate swinging punching bags,a ball pit, a big ladder, a catwalk 15 feet in the air, and a twisty slide that sent Her shooting back out at me, squealing with delight "again again!"

When She got a bit stuck on the ladder, a sweet older girl helped Her out a bit. But She managed the whole thing without the least bit temerity, while 5 year old boys wallowed in the ball pit screaming for their mammas. She did this 'ride' 4 times.
She did some others as well.

What She really wanted, and never gave up begging for, was the giant green "screamer" that lifts you in a cage 50 feet in the air and spins in every direction. But my crazy only goes so far.
So as a consolation, She got to choose between the ferris wheel and the tilt-a-whirl. Not even an option. She immediately picked the fast one. Again, there is no way She should have been allowed on that thing, but J held Her tight, and Her giggles could be heard on the other side of the carnival. They rode it twice.

Today is Military Appreciation (otherwise known as super-cheap tickets) Day, and J gets off early, so we are going to Her first amusement park, 6 Flags. I'll let you know how it goes!
Or better yet, She can tell you Herself.

Regular Boring Update

As promised- and I know you have all been wasting away by your computers, pulling your hair out in anticipation- here is a general update on things in the By The Way household. I know, I know. You're so welcome, you adoring masses. Or...mom. Love ya too mom! Here goes:

J:
J? What J? Have you seen him? Anyone? Not me. J gets out the door around 4:30am. I know for a fact that he kisses me goodbye every day, because it's tradition and we stick to it like a fiddler on a roof. But I have no actual memory of it, because, like a normal person, I am SLEEPING. He works long hours, no weekends, and has had some very, very crazy patients lately to entertain me with tales of. But he's loving being a real doctor, getting to see patients instead of sit in a classroom, and from what I hear they love him too. Of course!
While we don't get to see him a lot around the house, between the two of us Little One and I have spent a lot of time at the hospital for various appointments, and he usually slips away long enough to send Little One into a fit of excited screaming and hugging and begging to play with the pen light. He's tired, but he's hanging in there. And when he IS home it's hard to tell who is more thrilled about it, him or Little One. Despite being gone a lot, J is amazing (I think) in that he has created a really close relationship with his daughter. Seeing them together adoring the heck out of each other is my happiest time. Because it's so sweet...ok and partly because whoever is playing with Her is on empty-the-potty duty. Unwritten rule.

C and Fetus (currently a packaged deal): Doing ok! Exclamation point! Because that is a great big step up! ! While I still am feeling tired and really queasy in the evenings (and have yet to hit 48 hours without puking at least once) it's a world better than it was. I feel much better about being able to take care of things around here and get out when I need (or want) to. At almost 17 weeks, I have still not gained any weight. But somehow still feel like a walrus that needs to waddle around. And I do rock a little belly now, which is kind of fun for me, because I like seeing people doing the intent look/double-take that says "is she? or maybe just a little too much cheesecake? Or is she...?" The really fun part though is that I can feel the little bugger kicking around in there now, which is and always has been the only part of pregnancy I can say I "like" without lying.
Said fetus is also doing great, growing and squirming and looking stylish in the sonograms. We do not know yet if it's a boy or girl, but YES we are finding out as soon as scientifically possible. Because, have I mentioned this? I am a planner. I NEED to know what to put in the nursery, and what societally-mandated gender-stereotyped outfits to hang in the closet. Also, we could maybe pick out a name a little earlier than as-we-are-literally-walking-out-the-hospital-door this time. Probably won't, but we could. At least try.

Little One: Constantly knocking our socks off with another New Thing. Her 2 year check up was on Her birthday, in which the doctor actually asked to see my purse for proof that I don't carry a diaper or extra set of undies when we go out. Believe it, missy. And in which Little One wowed her by demonstrating Her extensive knowledge of the names of anatomical parts, some of which I would not mind if She had left out, or at least not used mine as a demo. And at which She weighed in at a hefty 22lb, earning Her a spot in the 4th percentile. Because She is obviously growing and thriving, Dr and I are not concerned about this. And in fact, I am rather amused that I was able to bring out most of Her 12month sized winter clothes from last year for a re-run.
Despite being a bit petite, Little One has no shortage of personality. She gets more fun and hilarious by the second, it seems. She has Her share of stubborn moments, which I would love to call Terrible Twos, except that Double-genetic Curse would probably be more accurate. Overall, though, She's a breeze to parent and turning into a pretty fun buddy to have around all the time. She can have real conversations now, which is SO COOL. And Her imagination is wild.
She's very excited that we have a new baby-in-the-tummy, though She has informed me that She will NOT be sharing Her pretty hair-ties. "These, these one? My. Little One hair tie. No baby. Baby, other ones. Mommy, you find other one baby. These one mine, k? Okay!" Oh yes. The word "mine" somehow weaseled its way into Her vocab exactly a week before last Tuesday, and while it hasn't been repeated often since, like a horse can sense an impending earthquake, I feel the "mine" tsunami coming. We have arrived at TWO.

Doggies: Oh doggies. Poor babies, so often left out of posts. The dogs are a big deal in our house right now. For awhile now we have been having some problems with one of our furry babies. I will probably share more later. But right now we are looking seriously into ways to help her. I have an appointment an hour away on Monday, and we will see how it goes. But the decisions we are making around our little pet are a big topic around here lately.
Generally though, around the house, they are both learning to live with a toddler and starting to accept that being dressed in hats and necklaces, receiving fake manicures and fur-styles, and being taken on "walks" around (and around, and around, and around...) the living room are just unavoidable parts of life. They do seem to enjoy having stories read to them every morning in their bed, though. Who doesn't love that?

Generally Speaking: We are all enjoying the cool fall air, the change of seasons, and each other. I get out to see my and Little One's friends as often as I can, and J goes on little adventures with us as often as he can, but generally we are sticking pretty close to home these days. Sort of wrapped up in all we have to do and in each other when we have the chance. Looking forward to all the holidays and excitement coming in the months ahead. And enjoying the simple and fleeting things about today and all the days until Big Changes come. Like sleeping all night, for instance. Which I think I'll go appreciate right now.
Night!

Party Time. Excellent!

When J and I got hitched, I planned the wedding myself. With help from my mom, my sister, and J's mom, I did everything from making each invitation, program, and table card by hand (decorating each one), to fashioning hanging tea lights and hooking them up in the trees, to making shirts and jewelry for the wedding party and sewing flower petals into my little sister's dress. I made it even more work than a wedding usually is. And I LOVED it.
I listen as sympathetically as possible to friends complain about the annoyances of wedding planning. Who has time to spend a whole day comparing napkin colors?! So true. But I love this stuff. Napkin colors! Place cards! Party favors! Yes please! I ended up doing party and event planning as a side job in college, more for the fun than the cash.
Parties indulge all my type A tendencies to the extreme. Planning, organizing, making lists, arranging and re-arranging things... cleaning the heck out of everything before and after....it's like zen. There can be themes people! Which also indulges what little creativity I have. I love to come up with ideas and see them through with my own hands. I don't get a ton of opportunities to employ this obsession. BUT! Little One does have birthdays. And kid's events are by far the most fun. I tried to keep it simple, even though there was a theme. Oooh. I didn't have to think hard to choose one; Little One pretty much chose for me.
Her big obsession now (besides Beyonce- another post altogether) is tea parties. Not the war paint/picket sign type, Peanuts, even if we do live in DC. I mean the big hat, china saucer, one-lump-or-two type. Awhile back I got Her a thrift store tea set, and it has been all tea parties, all the time, ever since.
So for Her birthday, I made little appetizers and tiny sandwiches, and an awful lot of sweet stuff.

Including these ice cream cones, cut down and iced to cookies to look like tea cups. They were kind of boring so I added some color and sprinkles. (Yes I did. Me, who has serious qualms about giving sugar to children. But....they were kind of cute, right? What's a few cavities here and there? Ahem).










J's awesome aunt did this amazing cake, which was as yummy as it was pretty.




I made a tea-pot pinata, inspired by Ellie, the Duchess of crafting.

It was the pinata that would not die.

Little One and I wanted the kids to indulge their crafty selves too. So we picked out plain cups and fancy saucers for them to decorate with paint pens.












And what's a tea party without dressing up? So there were hats for them to decorate; straw hats for the girls and top hats for the boys.








To get extra fancy, the little ladies had plastic necklaces and I made sparkly clip-on bow-ties for the gents.



It was really fun seeing how much the kids liked these projects. Especially the older neighborhood boys, who are generally too street to be seen doing anything that does not impersonate a teenager. I loved seeing one 9 year-old, in a plastic top-hat and sparkly bow-tie, painting his name on a tea cup and muttering, "ya'll better not try and tell anyone I'm doing this..." and then adding glitter. Glitter! He could just not help himself. Really, Peanuts, with glitter and stickers, who could?










I set up the deck with some little tables and tea sets for the kids to play at, and I was also surprised to see how much they got into that part. I knew that Little One would love it, but it was nice to see the other kiddos pouring pretend tea and bringing a cup of air to their mammas.












We had fun. Not least, Little One.


I wish you could have seen Her face the moment She came downstairs from Her nap to find the house transformed into Tea Party central. Or heard how She whispered "Tea Party!" in this excited, awestruck voice, and touched each little tea cup so admiringly before dissolving into giggles. It was magic.

She was thrilled to see a whole table of food that She could eat ALL of. And She spent most of the party eating something. She kept going back to choose more.








She was the first one to start singing "happy birthday" when the candles came out.

She had Her first ever real sugary treat. An egg/milk/soy free cupcake and icing that turned out pretty tasty! I used this recipe, substituting coconut milk for the shortening, and also made little muffins out of this one, which were yummy enough to make again, for all of us.


My friend A is an amazing photographer and artist, and as part of Little One's present she shot some pictures for us. I am too lazy to figure out how to make the files smaller to post many of them here, but they are really lovely.



How much girlier can you get...a tiara and a party hat? Little One was in Her element.

And, throughout the whole thing- and as I scrubbed every puzzle piece, every wooden block, every inch of the house until 2:30 the next morning to make sure it was allergy-sanitized by the time She woke up- so was I.
Little One takes after Her dad in a lot of ways, and She is nothing but Her own Self in others. But in some ways, She's like Her mom. One thing we definitely agree on is that there there isn't much that's more fun than being a hostess, making things from scratch, and, most of all, having great friends to share it with.