Child of God

We had Mira baptized on Sunday. We weren't intending to wait until she was a Terrible Two (although it had the potential to be a lot more exciting than an infant baptism, given that there were candles and water on site. Plus, she's incredibly speedy, even in dress shoes). But scheduling it kept getting away from us. Until my sister got her son Hendrik's dedication ceremony on the calendar. That was just the kick-in-the-pants I needed.

I did have some serious concerns about the possibility that Mira would try to climb into the baptismal font (after all, she hopped into the koi pond at the Como Conservatory), or blow out the baptism candle, mid-blessing. Or yell "NO!" in her gravelly monster voice while being marked with the sign of the cross. That's always the sign of an angelic child, isn't it? ("What'd you say your child's name is? Damien?")

Surprisingly, she was really well-behaved (and quite cute). I think the experience of being up in front of hundreds of church members was interesting enough to distract her from her usual shenanigans.

All kidding aside, the ceremony was very nice - our pastor talked about Mira's Ethiopian heritage, correctly pronouncing Tseganesh, and her joining our family. Here are some pictures.

Wearing a traditional Ethiopian dress (borrowed from our little friend Mizan)

The Sound of Tantrums

Any veteran parent will tell you that using distraction during an angry toddler outburst works like a charm. It's one of the oldest parenting tricks in the book. In our house, the distraction technique has been effective - Mira has been successfully using it on me for a few weeks.

Yes, you read that right. Mira has been using it on me. I only recently realized this.

How is a forty-two-year-old sage like me being outwitted by a small person who pees in her Pullup? In a word, snot. It dawned on me that every time she was having a meltdown (after being told no, or while banging her head against my legs and insisting on being picked up, or while spending a couple minutes in a time-out), she would essentially blow her nose right down her face. Naturally, this sends one of the older kids into a gagging fit - and it looks pathetic, all those snotty tears. I mean, you have to address it. I would pick her up, wipe her disgusting nose and feel sorry for her misery. (Ha!)

Besides the nose-blow, Mira has begun employing two other fun tantrum tactics: Monster Voice and Gargle Cry. Monster Voice is just what the name suggests: an unnaturally low, gravelly "No Mama!" It was actually sort of comical the first couple times she did it - and witnessing the reactions of people who haven't heard Monster Voice before has admittedly been entertaining (the sharp head swivel, expecting to find Mira replaced by Gollum from Lord of the Rings) but now it just makes me wince. I'm pretty sure I'm going to bite through my tongue trying not to react.

Gargle Cry is a talent none of my other kids demonstrated. When Mira is very mad, apparently there is something she finds satisfying about collecting saliva in her mouth and gargling her wails. I hate Gargle Cry because its juicy sound always makes me think she's vomiting - or about to.

I witnessed a new version of tantruming just last night: the Stair-slide Sob. This occurs when the angry toddler throws herself on the ground at the top of the stairs in frustration and slides all the way down on her tummy. As you can guess, the cry has a "Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-UH!" quality to it.

The joyful sounds of children, right? I should probably stop focusing on Mira's vocals/facial fluids during her meltdowns. Last week she ran into the bathroom and locked me out.

Oh, the fun never ends...