Snippets

I want to write and babble and that's really only because I went back and reread a lot of my old posts and I was all snivels about it because oh, all those baby memories of funny little children things and blah blah blah... but I've lost my mojo and my muchness (but not my mastery of the run-on sentence) and therefore am forced to begin slowly with teeny little blurbs of life on this here old blog o' mine.

The other morning Hugh was giving EvaJun a hug and she was squirming and he was laughing telling her, "I've got you!" when she suddenly stopped and looked him and said, "Daddy, we are a team."

And Hugh's head swelled to twice it's normal size and he answered, "Yes, we are Twerps!"

She continued..."and Jake and Jack are a team and Chewy and Jones are a team and JD and Molly are a team and Mommy and.... and... and Pele are a team!"

I looked at her. Hard. I'm on a team with the dead dog?

Off she went cackling to scavange Hugh's loose change jar for .75 in order to buy Pirate Booty from Rosie the Snack Lady at recess...

Un-bee-lievable. What kind of child puts their mother on the team with the dead dog?

As she came back in, still smiling and zipping her coins into her book bag she turned to me and smiled and said, "You know what this is Mom? Dead dog change!"

I swear, I've never been prouder.

Just goes to show you... genetics and Team Dead Dog be damned, that kid is all mine.

My Girl Turned 4

My Birthday

as told by EvaJun to her mother who is a faster typist



I had a beautiful princess dress. I might be prettier than Belle.



This is my fancy Princess Cake with 5 candles (because you need one to grow on).



I blew them all out. It only took 6 tries.



This is my pretty new necklace and bracelet made by Lana



Then I was tired.

The End

My Girl

The girl child and I had a weekend of serious mother/daughter bonding thanks to the male half of our people doing their own form of mano e mano up at Lake Mead.

Because we could, we watched Steel Magnolias, ate donuts for breakfast and discussed wardrobe options at great and sometimes painful length.

We visited with friends...friends who, I might add, have a big box in which lives every Disney Princess dress and so a fashion show of sorts was had... a fashion show that mainly consisted of running at full tilt boogie through Shelley's den as: Belle! (there were almost blows thrown about Belle) Cinderella! Mulan! Snow White! You get the idea.

There was Internet Super-twin Salsa action (as well as several other families of just precious and gorgeous children) a lovely evening that included such highlights as many nice people and maybe my accidental twin napping (blame the inability of the host of the restaurant to distinguish from: large group of people with Chinese children vs. large group of people with Spanish children.). As Eva was allowed to be the photographic representative, using my cell phone no less, I, not surprisingly, have no documentation of the fun.

I am now up at the crack of dawn because every single one of our 4 dogs is reminding me that when a person forgets to buy the regularly eaten and canine approved dog food and instead grabs the only thing on the shelf at the market, no matter how enthusiastically the new strange kibble is devoured, there is bound to be payback.

And so, as I sit here with windows and doors open, airing out the toxic gasses, I see the date and realize that today is the 3 year anniversary of our referral of EvaJun. 3 years ago this little dolly baby was stamped and approved as: daughter to Kristin and Hugh, sister to Jake and Jack - come get her please.

I have to remember not to be surprised by such a thing as referral day... that some official in China sat at their post revolution issue desk and created for me this wonderful, never to be fully comprehended, blessing. It's more like she is Athena and has sprung, fully formed, from my head... or maybe my heart.

And so my girl, on this day, 3 years ago, sat strapped to her foster mother's back, a place where apparently much of that first year was spent... explaining perhaps the early distaste for hip slings, Baby Bjorns, and even strollers, unaware that her life, had just taken a turn that would lead her away from the land of her birth and to the land of mine... and as she sat there, taking in all that a 10 month old can receive... the coolness of an October day in her rural village, the sing song rhythm of her foster mother's voice, maybe the sight of other babies, I, on the other side of the world, cried great sobs of joy and relief and thanksgiving.

EvaJun, December 2004

You Can Tell The Child Has Brothers

hollered across the children's section of Barnes and Noble this afternoon...

MOMMA! I have to take a DUMP! Right. Now!

wanna party like a rockstar?

Dedicated To My Hormones

She didn't even look back.
3 seconds after joining the other kids in Miss Jodi's class, she was volunteering to be the "Prayer Helper"...
It is just preschool.
2 days a week.
And I know it's not about me...
It's about her.
And her confidence and her intelligence and her abilities.
And giving her the chance to grow...
But...
It's a little about me.
It is the official end...
I don't have another baby.
This was my last first day of school.

Where's Waldo?

Scene - Eva and I are watching a TiVoed episode of Globe Trekker, Hong Kong.

Eva - Mama! I from China!

Me - Yes. You were born in China.

Eva - Mama, you fly on airplane to China?

Me - Yes, we did.

Eva - And Daddy go with you to China?

Me - Yes. Daddy too.

Eva - And Jake...

Me - Yes...

Eva - And Jack...

Me - Yes!

Eva - And Tina!

Me - Yes. Mama and Daddy and Jake and Jack and Tina... we all flew to China to meet you.

Eva - Me from China.

Me - Yes. Yes, lovey, you are from China.

Eva - Mama?

Me - Yes?

Eva - Where me now?

first mani/pedi...

It's Potty Time!

When Jake turned 2 I decided it was time to start potty training. He's 2! It's potty time! After 3 days of accidents which culminated in my yelling and accusing him of "going on purpose!" (No, I am not proud of myself and, although that was 8 years ago, I still feel shame sharing that little tidbit of proud motherhood moments with you" I decided to fuck it all and welcomed Huggies new size 5/6 diapers into my life.

Jake and I decided together that when he was 3 1/2 we'd revisit the situation. If he chose to use it earlier, so be it, but it was up to him. I assumed he'd be using the toilet by kindergarten and that was all that really mattered.

Now, those of you who have boys (or husbands or boyfriends) know that they enjoy nothing more than peeing au naturel in the great outdoors. Both my boys mastered peeing in the bushes wayyy before they tied it to taking off the Power Ranger briefs and running to the bathroom.

I digress.

3 1/2 rolled around and Jake and I went to Target and bought some shiny new boxer briefs (just like Daddy's... and now the Internet knows what kind of underwear my husband wears) in an impossibly ridiculous size.... I should have had a pair bronzed to hang from my Christmas tree... and he was completely trained in 3 days. We're talking overnight, poop, the whole bathroom shebang. Done.

Because I am not a complete moron, I followed this same protocol with Jack and with it, received the same, non-headache producing results.

No car full of changes of clothes. No rushing around parks looking for a non-contaminated toilet seat. No fits of quiet sobbing while applying Urine-B-Gone to my sofa.

Then Eva came along.

Oh, she'll be potty trained by 2! Girls are so easy, they train themselves!

Well, I'm here to tell you: Some don't.

Some, like my daughter, despite the fancy Dora toilet seats and endless 3-packs of Hello Kitty underwear, will tell you, straight to your face, "I don't want to use the potty. Please buy more Princess Pull-ups because I am a big girl and big girls don't wear diapers."

The irony of that statement was lost on her.

However, I have enough friends whose daughters had some serious issues, especially poop-related... that I refused to push her.

And secretly, I find Pull-ups easier. You only change them a handful of times and you don't have to say, every 15 minutes, "Shall we try and go peeps?" You don't have to camp out in the bathroom with your child while they sing songs and look at books and babble about poop and pee.

So that is how we've been rolling... with me saying on a daily basis for the last year, "Let me know when you want to use the big girl potty."

So very zen.

Right?

Until the other night. The other night, after I had changed a dump the size of something that should only be coming out of an adult male with a severe digestive problem, and made me think twice about allowing so much melon at snack time, I informed her that in the morning, we were moving to panties.

And we did.

And she hasn't missed a beat.

Last night, Jack had a haircut at 6:30 pm, and she turned to me and said, "I have to pee" and Jake (bless him) took her down to the bathroom and she peed and potty history was made.

Cue the music.

And so we are off to Target to purchase a long coveted Barbie Mermaid.

And because I am bragging, you just know the demi-gods of potty-karma are plotting a blowout on me in the toy aisle.

A Witch? In February?

"Grab a hat", I told her... "it's raining."