The Cinco de Mayo Door Gremlin strikes.

We had a very uneventful Cinco de Mayo, but P scored tacos for lunch and dinner. The man can eat them daily (only home made, he won't touch them elsewhere), but SS and I like variety. P had his monthly safety meeting and the boss provided home made tacos. I did not think of the date and texted P to ask if he wanted tacos for dinner, and his answer was "absolutamente." At least SS and I did not have them twice, plus P prefers how I fry corn tortillas, he is not a fan of the pre made, baked stuff. We also had margaritas, and SS had her first virgin one (yuck, even with Equal), because she has to have whatever we have. Given her energy level and our sleep deprivation, we still could not give her tequila. We swear it was only a less than three second contemplation.

This evening I was in the kitchen, P was outside and SS was playing with her metropolis table in what should be our dining area. I walked over to check on SS and noticed that the front door deadbolt was locked. P would not do that and SS can't reach. She can't reach at three feet, but with her handy dandy stools (provided by her stupid parents), she has six extra inches of evil. I asked her to show me, because although the stool provided the necessary extra height, I did not think SS had the strength to move the lock. That and we have a blog, it's the second video. :)

SS has been using her stools for a while, but mainly to turn lights and fans on and off. About a month ago I started to find the sliding door unlocked and P noticed that it was SS. Now we have to check before we go to bed. Those things did not worry us much, but now she can open the door and walk outside. As parents it is neat to see SS figuring things out, her neurons are firing, wheels are turning, and she is taking more risks. As parents we also worry about SS's safety, we need to be a step ahead of her, and quite frankly, that is not always the case.

No wonder she is a ham.

She knows the rule but refuses to follow it.

Walking with SS is no longer easy.

Six months is a long time for a now three year old, and I should have known better. After my surgery, embarrassment about what has pretty much kept me from doing the things I enjoyed. I am an anxious social mess at my best, when I encounter a social situation (group gatherings, parties, weddings, showers, etc.), I can only think about it ending. The addition of a colostomy skyrocketed my anxieties, and P went along with it until Chinese New Year and the kids' birthdays. At that point he was done indulging my fears and played the it's for JJ and SS card. Inspired by my friend Michelle I decided to try a short walk with SS today. Since P went to work early again we waited for him. It did not cross this scattered brain that the man was up at 3:00 a.m. and would be in no mood to walk. Oops!

SS was SO excited to see her Hummer again that she just hopped in as soon as I got it out of the garage, and would not get out. I had to wait for P to come home to get her to move so we could get it in the van.


On to the walk of mistakes, it was a really bad idea to let SS see the aquatic center. It did not matter that there was no water in the pool, and not a soul in sight, SS just had to go inside. She refused to smile for a picture we wanted to send to Michelle to let her see that I was out and about again.

Five minutes into our walk we spotted this sign. P declared that we would have to go home. Dude, there are so many miles of trails around the river, we just had to drive to the main entrance and enter through the bridge. I did not think that getting SS back in the van was going to be problematic. I can be dense that way.



In the picture below SS is doing her hell no I won't sit down peacefully protest. That was again entirely my fault, because I always allow SS to walk across the bridge. SS took some of her first tentative steps here and it is still a favorite today. P allowed her to do her thing, hoping that SS would settle and be her quiet, happy go lucky, enjoying the ride self. Sucker! It was awful getting her back in, she refused, she cried, she whined, she convulsed, she screamed as though she was being beaten. We were so grateful for her lack of language skills. A year from now we can see her screaming "Stranger danger, I have been abducted, call the police!"





Darn thing works, it was 3:00p.m. when I took the picture. And right here began my 45 minutes from hell. SS was cranky and cried, "No Mama, no walk." P piped in "That's what I'm thinking." I told P they could return to the bridge and wait for me, but that would be easy and would not inflict any suffering upon his succubus of a wife. So he kept going in one of the best moods I have ever seen him. As tired as he was, he would not leave me alone our first time out.

SS was so easy during our walks, she did whine but it took only one time letting her now that after Mama's walk she could have her fun, and SS would settle and do her own thing. It is going to be a lot of work to get her there again, if that is possible. I am going to bring her music and headphones Thursday and see if that helps.

I love my Sn00py water bottle, the only thing that would make it better is if it was bigger. P bought it for me (and s smaller one for SS) at Camp Sn00py five years ago. I guess it's made for the short crowd. I miss Camp Sn00py, I miss Southern California.

Everybody is Kung fu fighting...

Back to life, back to reality.

Today we renewed our membership to the exploration park. SS and I had not visited in months, not much energy for walking and that is where our walks usually ended. SS is used to have me show our card, then she quickly gets her wristband and off to explore she goes. Not today, there was paperwork to do, and she did not like waiting one bit. SS life is all about hurry up and wait, you'll see.

We had a blast reacquainting ourselves with our stomping grounds. The new GPS exhibit, a toddler's hands on dream was also a lot of fun. They recently refurbished a water exhibit and SS was all over it, getting wet and looking forward to many returns. We ended our visit at the butterfly exhibit. SS was very excited about the butterflies and tried to coax them into flying, "Flap your wings, fly!"

SS fell asleep as soon as P placed her in her carseat. She did not wake up when we got to C0$tco, and would not budge at the mention of a hot dog and a smoothie. P was holding SS (who was resting her head on his shoulder), and when he tried to take a bite of his food, SS's head flopped forward, dangerously close to hitting the table. Good thing the man has excellent reflexes. My inner neurotic, overprotective b*tch came out and I had to take SS from P. I should have taken a very deep breath, then count to one hundred. The guy did nothing wrong, but it scared me, and the thought of my kids getting hurt makes me do strange things.

I took my baby in my arms, and sat across from P, holding SS just like he had. SS did not even open her eyes. I had SS on my right arm, and I was eating with my left hand, while P was looking at me with a what the heck woman, how are you swinging that look. Easy, I was born with a uterus, all creatures born with one are programmed to perform such feats. I held SS while we shopped, because I did not want her to wake up if we switched. Gosh, twenty six pounds of love, dead weight love do a job on your arm. I left P to pay and took SS to the van. She was so tired that she did not stir when I placed her in the carseat. My arm was twitching the entire drive home. It was quite funny.

At 9:30 p.m. P went to the van, looking for SS's milk sippy, and we are so glad he did. P asked me if I opened the garage door. Nope, not me, and not him. Hmmmm, that leaves only one person, a three feet Gremlin who loves to wreck havoc. Our very busy SS cannot reach the garage button, so how? Then I remembered finding an opened kitchen drawer earlier. The same kitchen drawer where the garage remote resides. Dear SS, you manage to keep us on our toes. Could you please limit your headache inducing antics to one per day? Your rapidly aging parents would really appreciate it.

SS and I are looking forward to resuming our morning walks. Sun and water, we can't go wrong. OMG, I need sun and color badly, I'm as pale as P!

SS had not seem her beloved sturgeons (aka Baba Fish, and the coolest fish ever) for months. She spent time saying hi and letting them know that she will be back frequently.

P and SS posing with a salmon. P once caught one that weighed 35 pounds. Nine pounds heavier than our daughter now. That was one huge fish, and a tasty fish.

"Hey guys I hit the wooden block motherlode! Can I have one just like this one in my room?"

Baba teaching SS about clue gathering while geocashing. We planned to geocash in China, and hoped to leave a small Sn00py and have it make its way back to our town. But adoption trips are not vacation trips. From the moment we arrived at SFO we knew that geocashing was not going to happen. P keeps his promises, so it is top of the list for our return trip.

SS imitation of a well mannered child.

This cheap plastic calculator had SS's attention for record time. We are going to buy her one for road trips. Come on, it could be considered educational. The girl is a pro at pushing buttons, mainly our buttons.

Gotta love technology.

I have always had a thing for world globes, and one this size would be a dream come true for me. It was neat to see that it caught SS's interest.

What a treat, an exhibit where it is OK to touch to your toddler heart's desire.

We thought SS was going to faint at the sight of so many cell phones and GPSs.

Trying to splash Mama and Mama's precious possession, her camera.

Baba's turn to get wet.

One month ago...

A month ago Dr. SS admitted me into the hospital to put an end to my bag glued to my torso days. Although apprehensive, I was really looking forward to returning to some sense of normalcy. It seems like so long ago, but it has only been one month. Thanks to P's, JJ's and SS's loving care and attention, I am in a much better place than I expected at the one month mark. You three are my reason for living. Thank you.

SS gave us our laugh of the day early this morning. SS made a beeline for P's headphones, and they had the following exchange:

P: "Stay away from my headphones, you broke the last ones, that wasn't nice." SS cut them with our big people scissors.
SS: "Yeah, my fault." At least the girl is honest.

SS never fails to deliver laughs. Last Thursday SS gave me a good one, but sadly in public. When I tickle her I sometimes say "cosquillas en las costillas" (ribs tickles). SS must have been thinking about that, because in the middle of our playing she very loudly (is there any other way in public?) said "tickle n*pples," and proceeded to do just that. She is obviously still very interested in my breasts, no matter how many times she sees them, they still hold her interest, way too much. Trust me, there is nothing extraordinary about them. I am so praying for her boob phase to be over. But if her father is any indication, she might never outgrow this phase. I do not care much what SS grows up to like. I do care about having to be hypervigilant about SS grabbing my breasts in public, or even better, surprising me by sharing them with whomever is around us. The girl is quick, she can get my blouse and bra down in no time. We think she is going to make spending money teaching that trick to teenage boys.

Tonight I was thinking about my first surgery and wondered where would I be next October. Then I had a conversation with Michelle (thanks girl, you gave me a lot to think about), and I realized that at this point I need a goal. I need something to look forward to, something that will lift my spirits, help me stop obsessing over my mutilated torso, and stop fearing ending up defecating out of my torso again. In short, I need to let go and live, and I have a lot of living to do. Michelle inspired me to get off my butt and begin to walk again. Not literally, I have been walking consistently since I was a year old. SS and I are looking forward to resuming our morning walks. Her Hummer weights about 40 pounds, and I feel confident in my ability of getting it in and out of the van without damaging something I will need later. No matter where I end up next October, I am going to be just fine, as long as I have my family with me. It would be nice to add meeting a very good friend to that moment in the future.

We have always told JJ and SS that they can be anything they want to be, set their minds to and work hard for. That is a proverbial parental line of bullsh*t, a blatant lie. But somehow we feel compelled to pass on the myth from generation to generation. For example, President of the United States is not on either of our our kids' futures. SS was born in China, thus ineligible (at this time), and JJ is too darn honest, speaks his mind, and does not suffer fools. Wonder where he got that from. We can now add fashion designer and fashion trendsetter to the list of things SS won't accomplish. She does look mighty satisfied with her look. That is all that matters in toddler land.

Gross warning!!!!!!! If you have a weak stomach stop right here. While I do not want to stunt anyone's growth or make people lose their stomach contents, I had to post the two pictures below. Like P said, no guts, no glory. It's been a long, painful road, and I am taking P's advise and trying to look at my mutilated torso as something positive. I am alive, relatively healthy and able to enjoy life with my kids. That could have been cut short six months ago.

Now

Then

Summer here I come.

We have had some rain, but the sun is back and we are beyond giddy about it. If the good weather holds,we should have a week in the high 70s to mid 80s. That is our kind of bliss, we love us some sun and we (SS and I, for P it is genetically impossible) are looking forward to tan our hides. P came home at 12:30 but he was pooped and succumbed to a nap for a few hours. He then went to run an errand, while SS and I played outside. Once Baba returned, SS was in full activity mode, showing off to her number one fan. Our girl chose her clothes today, and we think she did a good job. She does look good in board shorts and a long sleeve T-shirt. There is some yellow on her shorts, that are an 18 month size. SS's tiny hiney strikes again, and she has a diaper to help her fill them.

SS spent a few hours running around, playing with her cars and cracking us up. A few things SS said that were new to us, and other SS moments:

* "Stand back Baba (or Mama)", running away from us, while holding one hand up.
* "Wave Mama (or Baba)", whenever she climbed on her tiny play structure.
* "Baba I can't do it", referring to opening the door of her C0zy C0upe, while skillfully doing just that.
* She counted to seven, but only when she handed us stones to throw. Stone throwing is becoming a favorite hobby. We are hoping it is not something we are going to regret teaching her.
* When she handed P a stone she said "1, 2, 3, throw." When she handed me a stone, she said "1, 2, 3, tira." Baby steps.
* "Kiss it", said to P in a very demanding tone after scraping her knee. That one got her in trouble immediately. P has finally regrown a spine and is calling SS on her manners. I am relieved because I do not tolerate disrespect, and that made me the bad guy.

And just being SS, that is enough to keep us entertained. She is not the most coordinated child, and it is behind in some developmental milestones that are glaringly obvious to others. But only P, JJ and I know what she has overcome, and why it is such a rush to watch her running around, eating, drinking, with normal vision, normal hearing, free of upper respiratory problems, and spewing simple sentences only intelligible to us. We also realize that her bossy side, her demanding side, her stubbornness and determination are born from her fighting spirit. Only a fighter would emerge from her birth and first fifteen months of life circumstances, to travel to the other side of the world, become engulfed by two different languages, customs and multiple cultures, and be able to hold it together. SS is a fighter, just like JJ is a fighter, and it is because of that spirit that we have them both to love and enjoy today. They are truly remarkable creatures. Also, both have survived our parenting, an even bigger deal. Just think of all the oops we admit to in this blog. Now imagine the many, bigger ones we are too ashamed to share. Then they manage to trip on air or bump into a wall, and we wonder...

UGH, she climbed out of her crib!

I had another appointment with Dr. JG today, and was hoping it was my last. Everything is as it should be almost one month post surgery. Well, Dr. JG thinks my recovery has been remarkable compared to his other patients. I sure hope so, since I am at least twenty years younger than his youngest patients. I do have to return in a month for him to look over a very minor complication, a protruding granuloma that P is going to gleefully try to burn off with silver nitrate. Dr. JG asked P if he wanted to do it, or if he preferred that I return for him to do it. P sure answered fast, anything to inflict pain on me. I can see myself twenty years from now, a doctor telling P that while I am in a coma, I have a 95 percent chance of recovery. I can see P saying those odds are not good enough and pulling the plug. The man lives for gory stuff. I neglected to mention that P has used the silver nitrate before with my open incision, or the big one, as Dr. JG refers to it.

We discussed some serious pain that I have been experiencing, but Dr. JG assured me that it is normal and will most likely remain for 60-90 days. There are two possibilities, the stitches (he said to think of it as twine binding my intestine), and that is pain that will bring a strong person to its knees. The second possibility is cramps due to my intestine residing lower after this surgery. I think that I am experiencing discomfort (OK, *&%$*&# pain) from the stitches. Now it is a waiting game, since the stitches will be completely dissolved three months after surgery.

We also discussed my fear of this happening again, especially after finding out that he removed more diverticula. Dr. JG explained that he is certain that it was left over after the first surgery. He stated that is not unusual to leave some knowing that it will be removed during the reversal surgery. Not sure I buy that, but the dude has been straightforward so far. Regarding my fear of ending up with a colostomy again, he pointed out the obvious (which I am a master at missing), it took forty something years for a rupture to occur. It is not likely to happen again, and he has only seen it happen once since 1986. He also noted that now that I know the consequences of not listening to my body when it is in that much pain, he is sure it won't come to that. Way to go Dr. JG, blame it on the innocent victim.

P is visibly relieved (meaning he won't shut up about it) that I have finally received and acknowledged the message my body sent last October. What he does not understand is that listening to one's body can be a drag, especially when your body is letting you know that you are aging, not gracefully, and that you are on your way out. Not a fun message to receive.

After lunch SS and I went shopping. She was in a good mood, even though we waited almost an hour at the doctor's office. This week P has started work at 4:30 a.m. and is home between 12:30 to 1:00 p.m. Except today, due to the appointment. That extra daytime Baba time has been really good for SS, and I think accounted for her good mood. What the heck, I do enjoy having him around as well.

Having fun spends energy and SS had a mini meltdown around 6:00 p.m. I held her until she cried herself to sleep. I placed her in her crib and went back to cooking dinner. An hour later I heard SS calling for P, he went upstairs then asked me where I laid SS down. Uh, there are only two possible places, our bed or her crib. He surely could not have lost her, I had just heard her call out to him. P was asking because he found our intrepid daughter at the top of the stairs. WHAT!!!!!! Yep, she climbed out of her crib, and I am sure it is the first time. We have never found her out of her crib and there is no way she could climb back inside.

Although about to soil our underwear over what this meant, we remained calm and asked SS to show us how she climbed out. We were both surprised we did not hear a big thud, so she made it out without incident. It took a while to coax her to repeat her stunt, and we are sure that she was shy because I was filming her. We reassured her that she was not in trouble, that we would not be mad, but SS was obviously not trusting us. She eventually replicated her escape from Alcatraz for us. Dude, we are sooooooooooooooooooooooooo screwed, sorry, no way of softening that blow. If SS can clear the side of her crib (we did not think her legs were that long), she can easily clear a security gate. We have to come up with a solution because we can't have her wondering around at night, writing redrum on the walls. Man, we are really sweating this one.

The simple solution, tying her to her crib is not an option. Most people would also see this a sign that it is time to convert the crib into a toddler bed. That is not a problem, it converts and we for once thought ahead and bought the bed rail when we bought the crib four years ago. The thing is that SS seems to need a crib, she needs to feel something all around her. That is why she enjoys falling asleep sandwiched between us, and makes sure to touch one or both of us. When she is in her crib, she gets very close to the sides, a bed rail is not going to give her that sense of security. On the other hand, chances are that her acrobatic precision might be affected by sleep or darkness and SS could hurt herself climbing out. UGH!

And why are we agonizing over something so freaking simple? I threw JJ on a twin size bed at 12 months, with a bed rail, but the kid had plenty of space to fall out. OMG, he was the easy one. Oh well, we have to figure out something and soon. Suggestions are certainly welcomed.

SS is getting good at the waiting game. Having her crayons, paper and board helps a lot. That is one lifesaver of a gift.

I got our drinks and returned to the table to find SS on a booster seat. P sure wants me to age faster than I am, because all I could think of was SS sliding down, hitting the concrete floor and cracking her head open.

SS was blissfully oblivious to the trip to the ER and subsequent ICU stay that was playing in my neurotic mind.


SS has developed a taste for crunchy cheap tacos. She ate one without her usual stalling. SS gave her taco a thumbs up. SS is really into her thumbs these days.

Just can't get over the cuteness.

Do not let that first picture of two very patient individuals waiting to get in the examination room fool you. They are grifters who have their hustle perfected. This is what happens when they get in the examination room. I have no idea why Dr. JG was disappointed when SS stayed home, because she really does a job in there. P does not help much, he actually encourages SS. When SS started going through the drawers during our first visit, P gave her sage advise. He told SS, "You need to learn to be quiet and not slam drawers when you are invading someone's privacy."



I took advantage that SS had a full tummy and had Baba time, and we went shopping. SS was in a good mood and this is pretty much what she did the entire time.

Rock stars have only one name.

A few months before SS's third birthday we began working on having her become accustomed to her full name. That is first, middle and both (hyphenated) last names, quite a mouthful with someone with limited language skills. Oh, and with lazy parents who waited way too late to take such an important step regarding information vital to her safety. Let's face it, we can't tag her indefinitely. Right?

We need to learn that our plans do not matter one bit to Ms. I Do What I Want. SS is absolutely repulsed by her full name and won't stand us uttering it in her presence. She reacted to it as adversely as she reacted to her first sight of a pumpkin in a pumpkin patch (that was really bad). She placed her hands out and said "NOOOOOOOOOOO, STOP IT! NO -insert a drunken like slurred version of her last names- seriously funny. I need to tape it one of these days, but won't be able to share it for obvious reasons.

We were a bit puzzled and waited a few days, we tried again with the same results. SS does not even want to hear her first and middle names together. The weird thing about that is that I use her middle name quite often, it is a sure way of getting her attention when she is very distracted. It seems that much to P's consternation, I do have the pronunciation down. HA! She would counter our efforts by yelling her nickname. Thanks JJ, we knew this would somehow come back to bite us in the a$$. ;) In our true cowardly fashion, we tried a few more times, but SS was very agitated and we just stopped. Come on, no one expected different from us lightweights.

SS has decided that rock stars go by only one name, and that is the path she has chosen. We wonder what will happen when the realization of her limited vocal ability hits her. We have resigned ourselves to tag her until she chooses a life partner. When P walks SS down the aisle, he will hand SS's partner her name tags, from then on it's up to that lucky individual to keep tabs on her. Maybe by then we will have a chip inserted in SS and keep tabs on her through our GPS and cell phones.


Here is our rock star happily rocking out an ear damaging tune. I took two short videos, but U Tube refuses to load them. I am going to ask P to try again, because I have reached my colorful language and groaning limit for the next three months. SS does look cute in her we are never going to let her take that path until she earns a real degree outfit. :)

We really dig the hair extensions. I have told P that next time we go to China Town (or when we return to China) I am going to have several strands on SS's hair dyed neon orange (most likely) or neon pink. Heck, I did it with JJ and it is a great contrast with dark hair, plus makes them easy to spot in a crowd. I might try it next Halloween, since I used to do the same to my hair every October. It was a lot of fun showing up to court (and testifying) dressed completely professionally, and with neon orange hair. P always got a kick out of it.

"Mama I watch movie"

Those were SS's last very groggy words before falling asleep last night. Our girl had a very big day. As you can see in the pictures below SS fell asleep while leaning on me. Another quirk of our daughter is that she does not have a consistent way of falling asleep. JJ fell asleep while riding in the car and on me if we were out past his bedtime. But at home, I simply placed him in his crib and he fell asleep. Silly, young, innocent me, I had no idea how good I had it then. The more time we spend with SS, the more we realize JJ was the easy one. Excuse us while we hurl and say YIKES!.

Anyhoo, consistency is way overrated in SS's world. To fall asleep in the same manner every night, a routine, that would be way too simple. Sometimes I rock (actually glide) her to sleep, sometimes she falls asleep in our arms, sometimes she asks to be placed in her crib and wants to be left alone, sometimes she lays next to P and buries her head in the crook of his armpit, and other times she leans on one of us until she dozes off. Just like she did last night. SS is like Forest Gump's proverbial box of chocolates, you never know what you are going to get. And she is only three, we can't wait to see what other quirks she is going to develop. Of course we will deposit into her therapy fund accordingly.

An unnecessary milestone, SS's first movie.

For the past few months P has been hinting that it is time for SS's first movie theater experience. For some reason I envisioned a cartoon movie, specifically a D*sney cartoon movie as the time to brave public humiliation with our daughter. But P, Sunshine, Mr. Fisheries Biology, lover of all things aquatic, the man who still remembers the scientific names of fishes (9 years after his B.S.) had something else in mind. SS's first movie venture? D*sney's Oceans, very fitting for this family. At least he got the D*sney part. And their movies are kid friendly in length, ninety minutes. We saw our last movie in late June 2008, Baby Mama. We were all scatter brained planning for our China trip and meeting our daughter, but P insisted we needed to see a movie. He knew there were not many things we would stop doing once SS came home, but he knew that we would not set foot in a movie theater for a while. Smart guy, great sense of what awaited us.

We just posted a few days ago about SS's less than stellar behavior during lunch at the Thai restaurant. Then why would we think that taking our increasingly ill mannered child to a strange place, dark, with a screen larger than she has ever seen before, and with deafening noise level would be a good idea? Ah, that is easily explained by our fly by the seat of our pants parenting philosophy. After picking up SS's van from the shop we introduced our second born to the world of over priced popcorn, soda and assorted snacks. That turned out to be a good move. The only time SS shut up was while sucking on her large cherry Icee (she finished three fourths of it, quite impressive), or when she was stuffing way too much popcorn in her precious little mouth. But since it was a D movie, she was not the only chatterbox there, and for the most, she was not ear drum shattering loud.

SS and I entered the auditorium during the previews, while P was stuck at the concession stand. Things have certainly changed since JJ's first movie. I am ashamed to admit that he was only 5 months old, but did not utter a peep the entire movie. The booster seats came in handy, since SS's whopping 26 pounds are not enough to keep the seat down. When I sat SS down she was all smiles, mesmerized by the big screen, while taking quick glances around her. It was so interesting to see the world through the eyes of a three year old. After a few minutes SS held her hands together in front of her, looked at me and in a burst of unadulterated enthusiasm exclaimed "I WATCH MOVIE!!!!!" Close sweetie, you were watching movie previews, but exciting nonetheless.

A documentary, not even one with the D*sney seal, is not the best first movie experience for a toddler. But there is no way I would deny P that experience, the subject was a big deal to him. The worst that could happen would be a hasty exit with SS, and we have made a few of those already. SS's interest in aquatic creatures was a big help, although she lost steam by the one hour mark. That is a long time for someone her age and with a nonexistent attention span.

We found Pierce Brosnan's narration excruciatingly bland. I told P he would have done a bang up job narrating the film. He has a great voice, I could listen to the guy blab mindlessly or even read the phone book. That is the kind of voice P has, and I have the $600 phone bill when we were dating and on opposite ends of California to prove his pull. His grandmother says that he gets his sexy voice from his father (major eeeeewwwww factor there for me). Seriously D*sney people, have P narrate the darn movie and your female attendance will increase 1,000%. The bland narration did not help SS, but she did better than expected. The only stressful moment came when an army of newborn turtles emerged from the sand on the shore and tried to make it to the ocean, while mean birds flew down and picked them up for a snack. We feared that SS would have a flashback to that *&%@%*$ seagull stealing her corndog in San Francisco. If her mind went there it did not show.

Impressions of SS during the movie:
* Her record attention span, seriously blew us away.
* Her recognition of sea creatures and her fondness for dolphins, sharks and tugas (tortugas or turtles).
* When a circle of life moment was imminent (an animal eating or attacking another animal), the foreboding music would give it away. SS picked up on this and upon hearing the change in music would say "Ut oh." So freaking adorable.
* Her exuberant reaction upon seeing a clown fish. SS then proceeded to share her delight by yelling, really yelling "CLOWN FISH!!!!!!!"
* The perma smile on P's face whenever SS recognized an animal, or when she repeated the name of an animal. I probably did not watch much of the movie, because the actual entertainment for me was first watching my daughter, and second watching the pride P was oozing out of every pore.
* Our daughter making sure to touch either one of us, sometimes both, while she was in her own seat.
* Leaning her head against my arm at around the 45 minute mark and saying "Hold me."
* Spending half the the movie between my lap and P's.

Why was it an unnecessary milestone? SS is not going to remember her first movie or those to come for a few years. Did she need to see a movie? Of course not, it is one of those things that are more important to us as parents. Why would I ramble on this post about such a common occurrence? I have no idea exactly how many people watched a movie today worldwide, but I am sure that they number millions. Nothing earth shattering, news worthy about SS's experience, mundane at best. Heck, I bet only P and Abu will read the entire boring post (feel free to prove me wrong if you last this long). But it was a milestone for SS, for us, one of many more we look forward to enjoying. The little things that make us smile, that make our day, that memories are made of. The little things we dreamed about while we waited for three years, and wondered when we would bring our daughter home. The little things that make us forget the painful wait, make us forget when SS dumped baking soda all over the kitchen floor, stayed up all night, threw a three hour tantrum, had us worried sick about attachment and the consequences, bent and almost broke our glasses, and many other cute but not so endearing moments. We signed up for this eyes wide open, not only the good, and we got exactly what we wished for.

The key to a successful movie experience, an Icee and popcorn almost as big as your child.

Oh yeah, happy child.

A three year old with car trouble.

We woke up SS at 5:20 a.m., got her in her carseat, and again made the drive to the dealership. The van had been making a concerning noise that P and I feared could be the transmission. It worsened this week, necessitating another trek to the middle of nowhere. It is still under warranty (only 25,000 miles after three years), but it is still an inconvenience. For all of SS's high maintenance behavior, she is a good traveler. She is a pro at being taken from her crib half asleep, then placed in her carseat still in her PJs. We were hoping she would return to sleep but she was intrigued as to why we were traveling caravan style. When I managed to scald my tongue, palate and esophagus, my yelping sealed her fate; she was too startled to go back to sleep. I usually take my caffeine cold and there is a reason for that. Today I had coffee and it will be a long time before I make that mistake again. That is what happens when I am running on a whole hour of sleep. The stupid pain kept me awake, the two Percocet did not help.

Although we have had our share of used crappy cars (the sedan was our first new purchase), we are not mechanics and were happy to hear that the problem was a pulley, not the engine. Since P had a long week and little sleep, we opted to return tomorrow to retrieve SS's car. And that is what she calls it, she won't stand for us referring to it as Mama's car, or even the family car. It is SS's car, dang it. Oh to be three years old and suffer the inconvenience of car trouble.

As any couple, P and I have had those moments when we have been less than kind to each other. It is normal and usually a result of stress or sleep deprivation. So yeah, I have sometimes wondered how I ended up marrying the insensitive creature in front of me, then have children with said creature. I am also sure that P has those moments where he wonders the same about me, and far more frequently. Then there are days like yesterday, when the opposite happens. P made the appointment for the van during lunch, and was told to be at the dealership at 7:00 a.m. That meant a 5:00 a.m. wake up call for us. He told me, then apologized for inconveniencing us so early in the morning. That was so freaking cute, because he was sincere (that or an Oscar is in his future). The man only drives the van when he is with us, while SS and I pretty much live in it. He was the one who was going to drive three hours, then put in a ten hour day at work. SS and I were going along for the ride (I obviously drove one way), then return home to our beds (OK, SS would). I could have driven with SS and hang around until it was done, but P never considered that option. And believe me, the man hates that drive as much as I do.

SS was sad to give up the comfort of her van. We were worried about how long we would have to do without it.

SS was about to doze off when we rudely moved her from the van to the car. She was shot after that.

Look Mama, I am having a blast in Baba's old, cramped car, while sitting in this death trap of a carseat. I love living dangerously.

P always makes fun of my habit as a passenger of propping my feet on the dashboard. A lot of the time is only one. SS does the same, P thinks it is a girl thing, as he claims he has never seen a guy do this.

The face of a child who has been strapped to carseats for almost three hours. We thankfully made it home half an hour later and SS returned to her crib, where she slipped to dreamland. We did not have SS in P's car from home because there is no way SS would remain calm if separated from he Mama. Also, while her second carseat has the same safety rating as her Br*tax, the over $150 price difference is for a reason. It is not as comfortable and more important, it does not fit the same. When SS falls asleep in this carseat her head bobs around, unlike her B. And yes, the carseat is installed properly, P is a pro at proper carseat procedure. We do not like SS in this carseat unless absolutely necessary.