jacksonpeople: July 2010

Here is a list of random things you would be likely to find at our house:

A pet hair roller whose sticky surface is completely covered with thumbtacks, much like a spiked mace used for bludgeoning opponents during medieval times. Not convenient when you just want to get dog hair off your pants in a hurry.
Dolls ranging in size from Baby Alive down to Polly Pocket with casts made of masking tape. Some of the toy people just have leg or arm casts, but others have full body casts. (I don't know what those dolls are doing, but clearly they are not being careful to avoid injury).
Elastic ponytail bands tightly wrapped around knobs on drawers. Generally there are two or three ponytail bands per knob. None of us have small enough fingers to fit between the knob and the drawers to pull the elastic bands off, so we can either cut them off with a knife, which seems wasteful, or leave them there, which doesn't really accomplish anything but at least I'm not being wasteful.
Two-inch tall, green plastic Army men lurking in places like the branches of the metal tree candle holder on my mantle or behind the music rack on the piano. (The Army men actually began their occupation of our home several years ago when they were seen aiming their guns at the ceramic townspeople strolling through the fake snow in my Christmas village).
Kids ranging in age from two to 14 years old walking around with clear packing tape over their mouths so they have squishy lips. Honestly, I spy a packing tape-mouthed child several times a week around here.
This:

I had begun writing this blog entry and got interrupted. I happened to describe the topic to Randy when we were running an errand. I said, "I should think of one more example of these weird sightings..." We came home and found our kitchen cabinets covered with these figures made of Bendaroos (flexible, wax covered building sticks - a really great toy, by the way). Obviously, whoever made the people then felt the need to stab some of them with toothpicks.

(And yes, my kitchen cabinets are ugly white melamine. Hate it.)

The odd part of all this is not really the objects themselves, but the fact that both Randy and I come upon them regularly as we stumble through our days and don't blink an eye. I think it's all just part of the chaos that exists here - and four imaginative (or deranged?) kids.

Remember the scene in Jerry Maquire when Tom Cruise tells Renee Zellweger, "You... complete me."?

Every single day I look at my beautiful, funny, bright, youngest daughter at some point and think, "You... exhaust me."

I'm behind the times. Mira has turned two, co-starred in a wedding, and we've won the lottery. (OK, you knew immediately that the last item was wishful thinking. Anyway, to heck with the lottery, I just want enough cash to re-side our house so it looks less like a tall toaster). Somehow the blogging got away from me.

Somehow....

Mira turned two at the end of June and is taking her responsibilities of Being Terrible very seriously. (Some kinder, gentler, ever-patient, Pollyanna-type moms have taken to calling this age "the Terrific Twos" instead of the Terrible Twos these days. Ha! Give the girl some credit!) Mira's latest toddler trick is shrieking. I'm not talking about a cry of protest or even an impressive tantrum. I'm talking about a horror-movie, blood-curdling scream that would make Freddy Krueger wince. You can't imagine how much I enjoy dragging my screaming daughter out of a store as she writhes and fights me, while shoppers stop and stare, wondering, A. What is that woman with the terribly furrowed brow doing to that darling little girl? and/or B. Is that white woman abducting that black child?

Mirabelle was, of course, the picture of cuteness on her birthday. The sight of all the family members gathered around, singing Happy Birthday to her, quite pleased Little Miss!

Part of turning two meant a check-up with Dr. Kelly. Mira is now 33 inches tall and a whopping 24 pounds. I looked back in Ethan's baby book to see what his two-year-old stats were. The Boy (or, Man-Child, as we've taken to calling him, as he closes in on six-feet tall) was already over 30 pounds at two. I'm pretty sure the two-year-old Ethan could've eaten the two-year-old Mira. She's a dainty gal.

Dr. K. suggested we look into a speech assessment, as Mira's vocabulary is still pretty limited. I think it's a good idea, although each day she continues to talk more and more. And more. It is actually a little tiring because she's pretty much chanting Mama, Daddy (da-DEE!) or Abby (Ah-BEE!) nonstop.

"Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama!"

"What's up?"

"I dat!"

"Oh, you have your shoe. I see."

"Mama! Mama! MamaMamaMAMA!"

"Yes?"

"I dis!"

"Yes, I see you have your other shoe, too..."

And so on. She also says "Eeee" for Ethan, but doesn't feel compelled to share her goings-on with him every second, so we don't hear Eeeee! as often. We want to encourage her to express herself verbally, so we try to respond with (feigned) interest every time she repeats (and repeats, and repeats) our names. As I said, it's a bit tiring. But I'm not complaining. I'll take the "Mama! Mama! Mama!" mantra over the no-words whine any day.

Flower (girl) Power

Our lovely niece Nicole, the first cousin to tie the knot, asked Mira and Gracie to be flower girls in her wedding. We knew there was a 50/50 chance that Mira would refuse to walk down the aisle (or shriek her way down the aisle, or lay on the ground part way) but Nicole is easy-going and wasn't worried. In the end, Mira did walk down the aisle, hand-in-hand with Gracie - at least most of the way. She ended up bringing her bouquet to me and plopping down. Good enough!

Beside the potential challenges of Mira's aisle behavior, the wedding required a 1,300 mile car trip. We armed ourselves with books, CDs, toys and sippy cups, and it actually went pretty well for the most part, despite some dicey driving weather. The older kids were great about taking turns helping with Mira whenever get-me-out-of-this-dumb-carseat syndrome set in.

Some big and small memorable moments of the trip included:

The wedding itself. It was beautiful and touching, and the reception was a blast!
Seeing Randy's siblings, whom we don't see often enough, and watching the older cousins enjoy Mira and reconnect with our other kids, who absolutely worship them.
Trying to get Mira's dress shoes on her fat little feet 10 minutes before the wedding. She didn't want to wear them, and in the process of trying to kick them off, she ripped her dress all the way across the front. A 12-inch section hung down to her feet. I hate to admit, I was not exactly the picture of serenity in that moment. Thankfully, one of the bridesmaids had brought the requisite bag of safety pins, and we were able to hide the tear. Mira walked down the aisle in her foam elephant sandals.
Witnessing an impressive act of Desperation Parenting by Randy during the ceremony: the Ring Pop we had given Mira to keep her quiet fell out of her mouth and into the grass just as Nicole was saying her vows. In the blink of an eye, Randy swooped it up, stuck it in his own mouth to suck off the dirt and grass, and popped it back in Mira's mouth, just as what was sure to be a loud protest was forming on her lips. I glanced behind us to see an entire row of grimacing faces - witnesses to the yucky act.
Seeing Adam, Ethan's only other boy cousin among a gaggle of girls, lift 130-pound-Ethan and the chair he was seated in, above his head and deposit him on the dance floor at the reception. Ethan still wasn't willing to dance, but it was very entertaining - and impressive!
As we drove down the highway on our way home, listening to Gracie belt out:

Someone's in the kitchen with Dinah
Someone's in the kitchen I know
Someone's in the kitchen with Dinah
Scrubbin' down the old man Joe (instead of strumming on the old banjo)

(Randy and I were thoroughly entertained by that lyric mix-up).

Getting the van, cartop carrier and four kids all loaded up after we checked out of our last hotel, ready to drive the final 5 hours, and turning the ignition key and... nothing. Our battery had died (sub-zero temps? Hardly, it was 90 degrees. Stupid van). Fortunately we were able to get a jump, and made it home without further incident.

Here are a few more pictures from the wedding. (And consider this blog caught up!)

Mira with her buddy, cousin Adam