le jour de mardi gras (avec un enfant)

A fistful of grandma's hair for the ride.

pobrecito

On Monday, Mira was sick. It's not often that she willingly puts herself down for a nap, but that day, she did. Horrid cough, tired and hot little girl.

On Tuesday, she felt better. The cough lingered. And happy Orion looked like this at work:

On Wednesday, Mira was feeling even better. But Orion had inherited the congestion and fever.
Today is Thursday. He isn't warm, but he's still feeling cruddy. His voice is still a squeak, and he snuffles as he breathes. He's eating better, though, and hopefully his sickness arc will continue to approximately follow Mira's so that tomorrow he will feel mostly well again (and return to his joyful babbling that he can't cobble together today through his sore throat).

This morning Torrin was holding a CD and the light reflected on Mira's face, creating a nice rainbow effect:

Here's to hoping that Orion is just as sunny tomorrow as Mira is today.

bananagrams (like scrabble, no board)

Claro, que Claire.

She has only been here since December 31st. She started school here on January 21. She came from a town smaller in number than the middle school she's now attending--and there are 12 others of similar size in this district.

No matter. Hastily she ascended to the top of the heap. Number one on the girls A team, in bands, choruses, and AP classes.

She's gorgeous, too--looking semi-scandalous in her skinny jeans without trying. Already amidst the he-wants-to-ask-me-out drama of eighth grade even in this new territory. The type of drama I mostly avoided merely by existing on a smaller social scale, even though I grew up here, accustomed to the crowds. She's not used to homely homeboys whistling and uttering utter nonsense as she strolls past. I'm trying to figure out if the trials and tribulations of the Popular Kids will serve her better than the hyjinks of the not-quite-outcasts. I'm both proud of her and bewildered. How did she grow up so fast?

My little 13 year old sister, taller than me, full of potential...such a loaded word, potential. Potentially amazing, potentially disastrous. Potent. Potency.

Whatever it is, she's got it.

More Mutilation

So, the refried beans can was very scary.

Indeed, this situation is similarly grave.

What kind of product origin message is this to put on a package? What company is so cavalier in its flippancy?

Why not just print, MADE SOMEWHERE? MAYBE ON THIS PLANET, MAYBE NOT? I'll tell you. It's the same kind of company that mutilates poor, innocent bears.

A strange bag of gummy bears, that one was.

bikin' bear baby

Orion loved his first bicycle ride.
For those observant folks out there...there's a Festiva in the background. That one is #9 in the Official Festiva Project; 27 total Festivas have been documented to date.

Whodunnit?

Your guess is as good as mine.













It must have been painful.

Way too fast.

Somehow my little Poppyseed had grown into a big, smiling, cooing, rolling over baby. What happened?

Terror Stricken, and 76 cents

Mira (3) and Sophia (5) wanted to paint their finger- and toenails. I agreed to help with this endeavor, and was surprised a few minutes later to find Torrin (7) polishing Mira's toes. He intended only to do Mira's toes, but 76 cents was enough to convince him to paint fingernails and Sophia's also--freeing me from duty.

Speaking of duty, I have not fulfilled mine. I bought my Kia over six months ago. We hit 10,000 miles on Wednesday at 5:30pm on the way home from work. But?

I still haven't registered and licensed the thing. It's the sales tax that I can't afford. Monday, I will file my taxes, so I'll be able to pay it soon (thank you earned income credit!).

Tuesday morning, I finally got pulled over while driving. It has dealer placards in its license frames, and is supposed to have in-transit papers attached in the front and rear windows. I have one in the front (it says 08/02/08, which is 30 days after I bought it, i.e., when I was supposed to have licensed it by). The officer just told me I needed to put my in-transit sign back in the rear windshield, failing to notice the five-months'-past-expiration date on the front.

!!!

Photographic evidence of my wit's ending

A rare quiet moment. Sophia, Mira, and Torrin's friend Aaron playing Go Fish.

My father and Claire wearing some awesome fur coats (rotten pic of my dad though!)

Anthony looking handsome on funeral day

Mira sporting half-Leia buns

Torrin and his long-lost buddy Aaron

Ben playing airplane with Orion

Who knows WHAT this is. Sophia, Aaron, and Torrin

Torrin's friend from school, Izzet, as Torrin tries to tackle him

27 degrees

Sometimes you have to stop running inside the house. Even though it's below zero by celsius temperature calculation, mom may still send you out to run off some steam.

Sorry it's a link...I tried to upload directly to Blogger no less than five times at various times today, each attempt of which ended with my wireless signal crapping out.

//*c//*h//*a//*o//*s

Our house has been chaos lately. Long story short, there was a death in the family and two little sisters and a brother have been staying at our house. Well, one is not so little--she's 13 and taller than me. The other two are 9 and 5 and make great playmates/partners in crime for Torrin and Mira. We finally have replacement downstairs neighbors, too, and I'm sure they hate me for all of the running, thumping, screaming and other such pandemonium that has been going on. When I can manage to stay awake long enough, I'll upload some pics and video to post here.

itchy?

2 great quotes from Mira on Christmas Eve...

1) "I got a box! Just like Torrin and Ben!" upon unwrapping a gift, partially.
2) SGM (StepGrandmaMagee) takes a pill. Mira asks why. SGM responds "because sometimes my back hurts." Mira replies, "Sometimes my butt itches."

Happy Cows?

Fine print on a coupon attached to the carton of eggs we bought yesterday.

3 letters

Following my much-debated text, composed so that it did not necessitate a response, came these three letters, last night at 1:35am: bye.

Today, I threw away a stack of banana pancakes. They have fabulous maple syrup in the Northeast, you know.

'tis the season

(Mira, third from the right)

...for losing my mind at work! Things do NOT slow down come holiday time. Operation Santa Claus gifts were delivered yesterday...that's roughly one hundred families' gifts, two or three carbon copies of each form to find, sort, alphabetize, and their corresponding telephone numbers to call. Nevermind disconnected or out-of-service numbers. And it's tax training time...IRS VITA site coordinator meeting this morning. Drama there, too. Paid preparers are trying to dismantle the volunteer-run program. And then there's my other, top-secret work Christmas project...not to mention Christmas cards and keeping the cats out of the tree at home.

Back on subject (was there a subject?)--Mira's daycare had their Christmas program last Thursday, on our Auntie Joyce's birthday. Since I had forgotten that morning that the program was that evening, Mira was one of only two girls in the class not wearing a dress. And she noticed. The picture above shows only about a third of her whole class.
And, for fun, here's a pic of PGG, about 3 or 4 years old. And looking at this picture, I'm wondering if maybe the baby's nose, which has been causing me some confusion, is PGG's after all. Noses, of course, look much different as they get older along with the human hosts, but Torrin's was instantly recognizable as his dad's. Mira's is actually still somewhat of a mystery but it looks more familiar, if that makes any sense (probably not). Orion's was puzzling. But maybe not. Maybe. We'll see. So also we'll see, if Orion gets the crazy eyebrows (notice too the awesome late 80s background, semi-mullet, and rockin' ninja shirt).

Earlier this evening I walked out to the living room from the kitchen, where I was cooking dinner, and found Torrin reading to Orion on the couch. Cute, huh? And what was he reading to him? Maybe a nice board book, something for babies, maybe even something for older kids? No. Ghosts Among Us, which I doubt the author intended for reading to infants, or small children of any kind, for that matter. Torrin has dubbed it "creepy." I wouldn't know, since I never got around to cracking the cover, let alone actually reading it.

Before I forget

Wanted to share two Mira exchanges from before the baby was born. In the first conversation, I had enticed Mira to come to the car by telling her that we were going to the store to get a carseat for the baby, as she is ever-interested in all things baby-related. This was a 8 days before the baby was born.

Mira: "Is the baby coming out soon?"
Me: "Yes, sometime soon."
Mira: "Are you going to make a hole for it?"
Me, aghast: "The baby already has a hole to come out of."
Mira: "Is that going to hurt?"
Me: "Maybe."

And then later on:
Mira: "Can I see the hole?"
Me: "No!"

almost two weeks

So quickly it goes.

We're around, up 'n at 'em. It's Christmastime, which is my second-busiest season at work following tax season (next up!). Little Mr. Orion has been, and will be for the next several weeks, at work with me. All day, every day. We breastfeed, and I don't intend to introduce a bottle until he's 6 - 8 weeks old (it will be pumped milk), so he's my third limb for now. I try to keep him hidden as much as possible and aside from huge breasts (for me anyhow) people can't particularly tell I've just had a baby. My uterus seems to be done with its contractingness and the belly is gone (though the extra padding on my hips and the local vicinity is there for now).

Mira is still enchanted by the baby. She's always wanting to hold him. Torrin is older and doesn't view him as a potential playmate or plaything as Mira does, but he still asks to hold him and seems to genuinely like him. We will see how long it takes for the novelty to wear off. So far, I've managed to get home from work and cook dinner each night, but after that I'm pretty beat and it takes an effort to read bedtime stories.


Don't blink, or you'll miss everything...

Orion Tadé