Merry Christmas, One and All

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas. We certainly did - lots of family time, food and fun. After hosting 3 holiday meals, me and my house are in some serious need of recovery! It was well worth it, though. Got to see lots of family, play with Hayden, eat some delicious holiday treats - like Toffee Brittle, Sweet Potato Crunch, Honeybaked Ham, and Fried Ravioli (my new favorite!), and sleep in a day or two.

Hayden gave me the best gift of all - she slept 11 hours straight the night before Christmas Eve, which was a record for her, and following our unsuccessful milk-tolerance test last week, the longest she'd slept for awhile!

We gave her a baby baby grand piano, which I have to say I think she loves more than any of her other gifts (paper, boxes and ribbons aside). She continually goes over to it and bangs out a tune, then swings around to ensure we're watching, and coaches us on how to clap for her. What a ham! Not to be upstaged, if her daddy sits down at his piano to play, she toddles right over and begins playing hers as well. I have some videos that I'll get posted soon, that I'm sure will crack you up.

As for her other gifts, don't worry - they're getting lots of use, too. Her Daddy, Poppie, and others are keeping themselves entertained with those. It's hysterical to see grown men rolling on the floor playing with little girl's toys. Nothing like it, I tell ya.

We even managed to squeeze in a few rounds of Yahtzee with the Massey clan on Christmas day. As always, it proved to be a competitive, raucous time, with customized fist pumps for each unique score, and plenty of cheers, cheats and cat-calls across the table. I love playing games with the family, and can't wait until Hayden is old enough to join the fray.

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and are ready for the new year! Best wishes, one and all!

Look who's talking

Hayden has been working on expanding her vocabulary over the last few months, and in classic Hayden style, she has done it on her timeline, and when it suits her. She learned several new words early on, used them sufficiently to prove she could say them, then ceased using them at all. Same tact she took learning to wave "bye-bye", same as when she started rolling over. Once she knows she can do it, she doesn't feel the need to practice it anymore or prove to the world that she can do it. And, added benefit: it frustrates Mama and Daddy when they try to show her off, and makes them look dumb. An effect I'm sure she'll work towards for years to come.

Based on my own feelings toward math homework growing up (I learned how to do it, I practiced a few times so I was comfortable doing it, and now you want me to do it how many more times?!?? pppptttttthhhh on that!), I can already see the crying, screaming event Hayden's own homework could well turn into. Maybe she'll take after Chris on that one. Haydie, all I'm saying is that it's hard to become the engineer that you... er...your daddy wants you to if you aren't into math. Chris, good luck with that one. I've done my part.

Anyway, long way back from that tangent, but my point is that Hayden has recently started expanding her vocabulary at a pretty speedy pace (for someone limited to a couple words, anything seems fast). In the last week and a half she's added several new ones, some of them surprising to even us.

She has long been able to say "Hi" (although that one's still on her banned list, for some reason), she can say "Bye-bye" and does often. In fact, the other night at my in-laws they had some friends visiting, and when Marilyn said that they should probably think about going home, Hayden perked up, looked right at her and popped out "BYE!" Cracked us all up. Over the remainder of the visit, anytime Marilyn spoke to her, or Hayden noticed her, she'd just shout "BYE!" (So, speaking her mind - check! One skill we won't need to work on much, I see.)

She can say "Da-da", and does all the time. Still tears my heart into a million pieces hearing that sweet voice call his name, and seeing him respond. I LOVE seeing them together - too sweet for words.

She started saying Ma-Ma last week more often, and to me occasionally. In fact, I was making dinner, and she came toddling up calling "da-da-da-da-da" reaching for the cracker I had in my hand. I jokingly told her that if she wanted something from me, she'd better call me "Ma-ma. MA-MA." Big difference in me and "da-da". Next thing I know she's reaching for the cracker calling "ma-ma-ma-ma-ma!" I gave her all the crackers. What else could I do?

She also started saying "Pa-pa" and "Poppie" last week, and surprisingly, "Abbie" - her cousin who she's only met twice up to now, and knows mostly from pictures. If you tell her to show you Abbie, though, she'll toddle right over to her picture and point her out. Of course, seeing the real live Abbie at dinner last night, she refused to display any of those skills.

Another one she's learned is "uh-oh" This is an oldie but goodie that she's recently resurrected around the same time she discovered the delight in THROWING things to the ground. Sometimes when she's done with them. Sometimes just to hear them crash. Sometimes to show you that she's mad at you/the object/life. Sometimes just on accident. So now, around the house, I hear *crash!* "uh-ah, uh-ah, aahhhhh". Of course, she's insistent that you pick it up! right now! so she can have it back and hurl it back. That's a fun game.

The other night, she even said "Hay-deh" when I was talking to her about her name. Not sure if we'll count that one as official or not.

Speaking of official, one last aside - the docs kept telling me she was teething, which I assumed because of the low fever, irritability, drool, etc, but we had NO teeth coming in. I kept waiting on her next bicuspid, and it wasn't showing. It's been months since we've seen a new one! The other day, I decided to feel (this is a risky proposition with this child - she has enough front teeth to chomp a finger off, which she's apt to do if you stick it in there. Not a fan of the tooth check, this one) to see if that tooth was getting any closer. Instead, I felt a tooth behind that one - a Molar! I hadn't even considered molars yet. After a complete, and completely miserable, check of her mouth, I discovered she had THREE molars all partially in! Holy cow! She just went from 5 teeth to 8 teeth, and I missed those coming in! Note to her doctor: sorry for calling you a crazy, out-of-touch lunatic behind your back after we left. YOU WERE RIGHT. (just kidding - I love Dr. V and wouldn't call her that. I would however seriously doubt that one of us had any idea what teething symptoms looked like. Not naming names, just saying).


Merry Christmas to you and yours! Have a wonderful holiday, filled with love, family and joy.

Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday!

Last Saturday, after Hayden's birthday party, we all went to her Poppie's Christmas Concert with the Big Chicken Chorus. He called lil' Miss Hayden up on stage to wish her a Happy Birthday in front of the crowd, and I have to say, she did fairly well for her first performance, short though it was.

Here's a picture of the whole family with Santa at the concert, one short year after we welcomed our little darling into our lives.

Her Poppie brought down the house with his signature solo of "O Holy Night". As usual, brought Gracie and me to tears. I'm sure Hayden will grow up loving to hear her daddy and Poppy sing just as much as I have.

Here's a quick clip of that song.

Dinner Date

Last night, Hayden and I sat on the floor of the kitchen, sharing a banana, some leftover birthday cake and cheerios for dinner. Still in my work clothes, I stretched out in the corner, listening to the radio serenade us with Christmas carols, surveyed the crumbs and dirt that yet again taken over my hardwood floor, watched Hayden boogey and clap between bites, and sighed. We shared messy kisses that left my face sticky with icing and banana, her small fingers smearing rainbow traces of cake down my sweater as she bounced into my lap, and also as she pushed up and away from me, tottering a few steps here or there before returning to our spot. Walking. My baby girl had, overnight, begun walking, and it still surprised me to watch her, hands up by her face (ready to brace for the inevitable tumble), legs akimbo, one jaunty step at a time. My baby girl. Walking. One year old. One. Year. Old. I looked again at the floors. Dirt everywhere, it seemed. Didn't we just vacuum? I surveyed the countertops from my corner vantage point. What I saw was covered in mail, dishes, bottles, and other ephemera. I looked back to Hayden, now happily scooting toward me on her hands and knees, her prize - a Santa doll from her grandparents - clutched in one hand. Too soon, this sweet crawl will be replaced by running and skipping, jumping and tumbling. As she approached, I reached out and wrapped her in my arms, sticky fingers and all, and cuddled her. The house can wait. I had a dinner date just then that couldn't.


Thank God for her. Thank God she slows me down for moments like these.

December 11, 2008

One year ago today, Hayden's due date, I woke up at 2:30 in the morning with the first contraction that got my attention.

That morning, I freaked my boss out by timing contractions during a meeting. Totally ruined his concentration.

I had lunch at Captain D's with my friend Tonya; we had fried pickles as I timed contractions. Later Chris would ask me what the heck those neon green things were... (gross, yes, I know, but one of my lasting memories from that night). It was the last time I had pickles for awhile.

That afternoon, I realized this thing was for real and began cleaning up my desk and packing my stuff. As I trudged out about an hour early, I heard a booming voice from the conference room ordering me back to my cube - they wanted to squeeze every last hour out of me! It was the president, joking he thought, about me sneaking off early. I told him I'd be happy to go back to my desk if he didn't mind helping me with a little project I was working on... I quickly got the green light to head on home!

That evening, packing my stuff between contractions, and using hypnosis during each one, as they became increasingly longer and stronger, I watched my husband turn whiter and whiter as the clock ticked on. He dutifully recorded the time and length of each contraction, lay in bed next to me, sweating as we waited through contractions. I stayed home as long as I dared; I was seriously worried my driver would faint if I waited any longer, and off we headed on the wildest ride I've ever taken (due to my circumstances, not his driving) to go have our baby girl.

I scared the hell out of some security desk clerks with a scene nearly out of a movie - me waddling in demanding them to take me where "I go to have this taken care of" and begging the other one to figure out where my husband needed to park (they of course totally tore up the entrance to the Women's center the week before. SIGNS, people. HUGE, CLEAR SIGNS. You're dealing with people in LABOR. We're not rational at this point. "BABIES - THIS WAY" would be fine. Just something).

I further freaked out the security guard by refusing a wheelchair, and threatening some very bad things if he tried to put me in one, then making him pause with each contraction as I doubled over and went into hypnosis. Scared the hell out of some moms and dads to be as well, I think. Ahhh, good times.

We checked into a room just before midnight, and then the fun really began.

As I look back today, it is impossible for my mind to grasp that it has already been a year. As Chris said last night, at first, after we had her, time stood still. The whole earth halted on its axis for three months, at least, then catapulted us into warp speed, and we haven't slowed down since.

Happy Birthday Eve, my wee miracle. Thank you for forever changing me.

Weekend Vignettes

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Saturday, approx. 5pm, my bathroom

I'm rushing around frantically trying to get dressed, put makeup on (!), and fix my hair. Hayden, meantime, has chosen this of all times for a meltdown. The vast assortment of toys, both parent-approved and Hayden-selected (my hairbrush, deodorant, and a bracelet) is doing nothing to settle her down. In a last ditch effort, I grab a box of tampons from under the counter. Seconds later, a cascade of them shower my bathroom floor. Then, wait... What is that sound?! Silence!!! Playing 52-tampon pickup is a small price to pay for 5 uniterrupted minutes for getting ready when you're already desperately late. Thanks, Playtex.

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Later that evening, at the work Christmas party, just after we've eaten dinner

One of the execs my hubby and I are chatting with subtly and quietly mentions, "Bon, you've got a litte bird in your grill there, I thought I'd let you know." Chris, hearing this, chimes in, "Oh yeah! I meant to say something about that!" Crap, I thought, perfect time to get chicken stuck in my teeth! I turn away and start trying to dislodge the offending fowl and upon realizing what I'm doing, my coworker clarifies, "Oh, no, Bon. I meant you have a bird that got stuck in the grill of your car!" It's then that I remember the small feathered creature that dove in front of our car on the way to the party. I'm not sure what's worse - walking around a party with food stuck in your teeth, or showing up to such an elegant event with a dirty car (full of baby gear, might I add, and who knows what else) adorned with a dead bird. And parking up front by the door. Lovely.

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Sunday Morning, around 8:30am

Chris awakes to hear a small voice calling. For him. "Da.... Da! Dahh Dahhh! Da da da da dah dah da!" Hayden, who has been saying "Da-da" for a week or so now on the rare occasion, wanted to make sure he knew who she was looking at! She wanted her Da-da to come get her out of bed. Despite wanting to roll over and go back to sleep, he got up and got his little buddy.

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Later that afternoon

We sold the oven! YAY! Going, going, GONE! Finite! No More. Done! Then we decided to 'celebrate' by getting the remaining few items out of our storage building and finishing our move. If I haven't mentioned before, Chris and I don't move stuff well together. That's why we built the house, in fact. So we will never have to move again. Our marriage is pretty strong, but another buffet that weighs as much as the one in our living room, and we might not make it. For as similar as we are in values, goals, tastes, etc, that is one area that we are WAY different. If I see that it makes sense to pick something up, turn it on it's side and carry it in the house, Chris sees that we should flip it over, pick it up, start moving it while one of us only has one hand on it, and see if we can't mash the other hand a few times before we set it down. See? We just look at stuff differently. It's not that one of us is right (me) and the other is wrong (him), it's just that we have our own approaches (me, careful planning and assessment. Him, run headlong at it with our eyes closed) to things like this. And that's okay, so long as we don't have to work together much. Happily, we seem to have worked out a little system that helps us both get through these situations without too many hurt feelings or fingers. It involves a good amount of name calling, cursing, obscene gesturing, and a few hugs and kisses (and hair-pulling and arm-pinching). Hey, it works for us. :)

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Later that night

Hayden is sitting on her Grandma's lap, and they are looking through the weekly circulars from the local drugstore that have become Hayden's favorite 'books.' Grandma points out the different pictures to Hayden, "See the little boy on the swing? He's having fun!" "See the little cat, it's giving that doggie a kiss, isn't it?" As she read that last one, Hayden looked up at her and becan blowing kisses. It still amazes me that at less than a year old her comprehension is so well-honed that she understood what Grandma was saying to her! Genius baby, I tell ya!

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Counting down...

My thoughts have been swirling all week about the fact that my daughter, my baby, is about to turn a year old. I almost can't bear the thought! I find myself clutching her to me, especially during those middle of the night wakings, cuddling her against my chest, burying my nose in the sweet scent of her hair and warm baby neck. Willing the clock to slow down, for just a moment or two, and let me capture the memory of her wee hands clutching to my shoulders as she slumps, trusting, into me. Oh, what I wouldn't give to have this last forever! It breaks my heart, it really does, to have to face the fact that she is -literally - stepping away from babyhood and moving into her childhood. How do I bear this???

I continue to console myself with the excitement and joy I find at each new milestone and accomplishment she reaches, knowing that each stage she leaves behind promises something new and equally endearing for me to love about her next phase.

For now, I want to take a few moments to reflect on my little baby. My Hayden, and who she is today, on the eve of her first birthday.

Hayden:

Hayden loves books - books, magazines, newspapers, loose papers, anything with writing and pictures, and she studies all the details. She has her favorite pages in "Mother Goose" - Baa, Baa Black Sheep, and The Crooked Little Man. She loves to sit in her Grandma's lap and let her read to her, or to sit in Papa's lap as he points out the eyes, ears, nose, and mouth on the babies in her picture books.

Hayden loves my phone. Her daddy's phone. Any phone. Remote controls, the mouse for the computer... anything electronic. She turns them over and studies every detail, looking at the screws and screens, and delighting in pushing the buttons.

She loves "Tickle Bee", giving "5", blowing kisses, giving us kisses (usually open-mouthed slobber-kisses, followed by the hysterical cackles of an amused babe), clapping, and listening to music of any kind.

Hayden enjoys eating dried fruits, Cheerios, puffs, and baby Goldfish crackers. She likes french fries, and bits of chicken. Bananas, and pears are an occasional treat, and she loves drinking from a straw. Don't try to give her a sippy cup, though - she has no patience for those. She wants whatever Mommy's drinking, and makes the cutest little "aaahhhhh!" whenever she takes a sip.

Hayden is learning to walk, and continues to surprise me when I see her toddle by. She is losing the "crab-crawl" and starting to crawl more like most babies. She loves for you to chase her, or to chase you, around the house, and you can hear her squeal if you get close to catching her.

She wears her hair in ponytails most days, and is very patient when her mommy styles it. She's grown to enjoy bathtime, and splashes away in the tub with all her toys. She has fun with puppy dogs, and likes to let them lick her hands. and tries to grab their noses.

She is an even-keeled, laid-back little girl, full of life and smiles and energy, who loves to study the details of the world around her, understands almost anything you tell her, and loves her family, friends and teachers so much.

She's the apple of my eye, my heart outside my heart, my true love, and I am just so grateful to be her mom.

Night Terrors

The other night, Chris was out of town, and it was just Haydie Pie and I at home. After she konked out for the evening, I let her stay in bed with me (with the appropriate amount of pillows and blankets to keep her from rolling off the other side of the bed), because let's face it - I needed the company as much as she did. She's a fun little companion in bed, except for the occasional kick to my head (how did she get her feet up there? Seriously, she was just curled up in a ball on top of her bunny bear!), or finger in my eye.

Somewhere in the midst of the windstorm outside, the blinking electricity, Hayden awaking and other random stuff that got me up throughout the night, I was able to get deep enough asleep that I was actually dreaming. Ah, dreams! Ahhhh, sleep!!!! Anyway, it was a very wierd dream, as mine ususally are, and got to this one point that Chris, my sister Grace and I were being chased by a lady with a gun.

Oh - I should back up a little now. You see, I talk in my sleep. Talk, scream, babble, and on the very rare occasion move. I've never actually walked -that was Grace's gig - but I did one time fall off a building in a dream and awoke when I landed face first on my bed - hard. Most of the time, I am just an amusement for Chris, as I drift off to sleep and begin quoting absurd variations of what is going on in my head. He loves to egg me on, until he's done and ready to go to sleep and I won't shut up, but that's another post, really.

So, back to my dream. This lady has a gun in her pocket, and at some point we knocked her down on the ground, and she's trying to pull the gun from her pocket, and I realize this is a key moment we can overtake and disarm her. So I yell to Chris and Grace, "GET HER!" and I pounce on her, grabbing her arms to keep her from getting the gun.

This is when I awoke to Hayden wailing her discontent at me. And I realized I was on top of her, clutching her to me.

Ooops! She wasn't at all hurt, but needless to say, she wasn't really happy with me, and had no objections when I put her back in her crib for the rest of the night.

Not Me! Monday

This weekend we celebrated Chris's birthday, and it was certainly not the first time I've thrown him a party since we've been married. We invited all his friends, and we all had an absolute blast!

I would love to share some pictures of the festivities, but I absolutely was not the one who made a big to-do about getting the cameras ready and then totally forgot to snap the first picture! Nope, not me!

We had some delightful goodies, snacks and other bite sized creations, and I had all my own unique and wonderful recipes. I most certainly did not snag two of my mom's annual crowd-pleasing concoctions, and wouldn't even think about ripping off my sis's new winner - fried ravioli and marinara sauce! Yum! That wasn't me, either!

Hayden of course entertained everyone with her laughing, crawling, clapping, "i love you this much"-ing antics. I held her and watched after her the whole time. I certainly did not pawn her off on her MeMa and Poppie the second they arrived. I really am am such a good mother - I had her to bed very early, too. I of course didn't let her stay up until the party wrapped at 12:30... Not ME!

Yesterday, you know we jumped right up at the crack of dawn and began cleaning up. I most certainly did not stay in bed napping with Hayden until after noon - Not me! I didn't leave a pot full of overbaked cheese dip sitting on the counter, even today as I headed off to work, to clean up "at a later point." I put the house immediately back to order, and wouldn't dream of leaving it set up in party mode for the get-together I'm having this weekend. I am such a good little housewife!

Last night, as Chris and I ate dinner (at the dining room table, like civilized adults, and not curled up in the den), I certainly didn't let Hayden snack on cracker crumbs left over from the party, because of course those were all cleaned up already, and I wouldn't want her eating off the floor - even if it meant a few short minutes of quiet between the crabby wailing of a teething baby. Nope, it wasn't me!

Happy Not Me! Monday, everyone! Enjoy your imperfections and shortcomings like the rest of us, and link your stories here!

At least we have our priorities in order

Just now, in our living room (which is still in disarray from the party last night. Big time, by the way - thanks everyone, for coming!)

Me: Can you see Hayden? What is she doing back there?

Chris: Yeah, I see her. She's sitting behind your chair eating cracker crumbs off the floor.

Me: !!!

Chris: Well, at least she's not screaming.

Me: Good point.

For those of you who need a laugh as much as I do

Please head on over here to see some fabulously flopped attempts at some Thanksgiving cakes. This blog, Cake Wrecks, is one of my all time favorites, and a frequent break from reality where I go to see the work of professional bakers who also seem to have taken a break from reality - while working on these cakes.

As a cake decorator, I can appreciate the challenge that some people's requests present, but these decorators aren't even giving themselves a fighting chance. Most of the cakes on this blog look like they were done sometime around the drug-fueled Woodstock era, or alternately by the folks who didn't win on "Are You Smarter than a Fifth Grader?"

Either way, it offers some wonderful entertainment for me and her many other readers, and I hope that it will bring a smile to your face today.

Happy wrecked Turkey Day!

Papa

Hayden's Papa, my father-in-law, went to the hospital today - his second trip the ER in a month's time. I would ask those of you that pray, to please offer him up in your prayers.

He is battling scleroderma, COPD, and a case of pneumonia in both lungs.

If you will, offer up a prayer for my mother-in-law as well. She is literally sick with worry over him, and when he gets worse, so does she.

They are the cutest little old couple you ever did see, with the biggest hearts, kindest souls, and most open arms. It just breaks my heart to see them hurting, to see my husband worrying over them, and to be so helpless to do anything about it.

I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving, and while all the family drama is hitting a fever pitch - kids screaming, siblings fighting, warm food served with cold shoulders - remember that these crazy people are the only famliy we get. Give them all a big hug, tell them you love them, and enjoy this time together. It goes by too fast. And, as my dad always likes to remind us, "you'll miss me when I'm gone!"

Because I have no shame

So, I've been saving this one for a week or two. Since I'm in a pretty good mood today, the sun is shining, my husband's home from his business trip and all is right with the world, I figure we're ripe for a little public humiliation. Why not?

The other morning, after Chris had left for work, I left Hayden in her playpen with a variety of toys to amuse herself so I could grab a quick shower. When I looked in at her just before hopping in, she was happily reading her books and babbling to herself.

I was thoroughly suds-ed up and singing a happy little ditty (something about the itsy bitsy spider, I think) to let Hayden know I was nearby and, let's face it, because I can rock me some nursery rhymes! All of a sudden - DING-DONG!. I froze, soap running down my face. Who on earth could that be at this hour? It's not Saturday, so it's not the Jehovah's Witnesses. It's not Monday, so it's not the Garbage man coming to gripe at me for not putting out my recycling bin for the 3rd week in a row. Chris has a key, as do my inlaws. Someone must be lost!

Then again, DING-DONG! Shoot! They're not going away. Stay cool - they'll get the hint, I think. Of course, "staying cool" is much easier said than done when you're naked, coverd in soap, and home alone with a baby.

As I'm doing my best to rinse off and finish up, I hear it again, more urgently - DING-DONG! DING-DONG! DING-DONG! DING-DONG! Crap! Maybe it is my inlaws, and they can't find their key. Or one of them is hurt, or something happened to Chris on the way to... crap! I think all of this as I snatch my towel off the hook, rub the soap out of my eyes and go running (which, in a tile and granite bathroom is quite a dangerous proposition while soaking wet, by the way) out of the bathroom, skidding through the bedroom as I try to position the towel to cover all the 'essentials', and as I'm dashing to the hallway to peek at the front door, the bell calls out again DING-DONG! DING-DONG!

And it is then, in that precise moment that I hear the doorbell coming from behind me, from my BEDROOM, where my daughter is PLAYING with her TOYS in her playpen, that I recall the interesting little fact that we didn't install a doorbell at this house. Why? Lots of various reasons, none of which are as important as the fact that one of the toys I'd handed Hayden was a set of car keys and key fob. A key fob that plays a variety of noises when the buttons are pushed. Including a doorbell sound.

As I turned around and dripped my way back to the bedroom, I saw Hayden, grinning and bouncing, waving her key fob around wildly, blowing raspberries and giggling at me as if to say, "good one, mom."

My new love...

These cookies are unreal good. I mean unreal CRAZY good! It's really my boss and friend Jeff's fault that I am in love with these. He bought me a couple boxes of what he called "Crazy-good Costco Cookies" for my birthday, and they were. They were crazy-good. Especially the white chocolate macadamia and cashew cookies. He had me so addicted to these things I nearly did backflips when he brought some in Rhonda's birthday the other week.

Once those ran out, I had no choice but to go out in search of my own recipe for the delicious treats. I scoured the web, and found many different varieties of White Chocolate Macadamia Nut cookies, but none that suited me just exactly. So I took what sounded good from all of those, added it together and tossed in some cashews, and I believe it is safe to say that I now hold the recipe for the very best cookies I have ever had in my life (and believe me, this mama likes her cookies)! In fact, the batter is so freaking amazing, it's all I can do to stay out of it long enough to bake the things. I swear, I must've eaten 3 cookie's worth in batter this weekend when I made them (say eww all you want, but I double dog dare you to make them and leave the batter alone)!

So, since I am not a stingy person, and am also not a person with a lot of time to bake extra cookies to send around to all my friends, I would like to share at least my Golden Recipe with you. Consider it an early Christmas present. Or just a Christmas present. Or the only thing you should expect from me this year. It's the thought that counts, right? Seriously, bake these things and you'll be buying me presents (I wear an 8 1/2 shoe, love the color red, handbags, and anything sparkly)!!

Bonnie's Soon To Be World Famous Crazy-Good White Chocolate Chip Macadamia and Cashew Cookies

Makes approx. 3 dozen cookies (if you use teaspoons. If you like to go CRAZY like me and use tablespoons, you can get about 30 cookies. I say, live on the edge. Use the big spoon!)

Ingredients:

2 sticks butter, softened

1 cup sugar

3/4 cup light brown sugar, packed (make sure you use LIGHT!)

2 tsp. pure vanilla extract

1/2 tsp. salt

2 large eggs

2 1/2 cups AP flour

1 tsp. baking soda

2 1/2 4 oz. bars Ghiradelli White Chocolate baking chocolate, broken into large pieces

3/4 cup macadamia nuts, chopped into large chunks

1/2 cup cashews (unsalted or lightly salted), chopped or broken into large pieces

Directions:

Preheat oven to 375F.

In a large bowl, beat butter, the sugars, vanilla and salt on high until creamy. Add eggs, beat just until blended. In a medium bowl, sift together flour and baking soda. Gradually add flour mixture to butter mixture, beating on medium until well blended. Using a large spoon, carefully mix in chocolate and nuts until well incorporated. Drop by rounded teaspoonfuls (or tablespoonfuls) onto ungreased cookie sheets. Bake 8-10 minutes max, or until center is set (edges should be golden brown). Don't over bake cookies, to keep them soft and chewy. Cool slightly, remove from cookie sheet and place on wire rack to cool completely.

Store in airtight container for 4-5 days at room temperature. Although I'll bet they won't last nearly that long!

Try 'em! I hope you like them. And if you don't, you know where I live - just send 'em my way and I'll take care of disposing of them for you!

Thankful

I just went and had my first "mommy-daughter" lunch at Hayden's school. They hosted a thanksgiving feast for the parents at her daycare, and my friend Barbara and I went to eat with our babies. It was such a wonderful delight and a great way to break up the stress of a back-to-work Monday.

We had turkey and gravy, rolls and green beans, potatoes and cranberry sauce (well, we didn't have cranberry sauce, but we saw others who did. They seemed to like it! Good for them!). And of course the desserts - there was a whole table of different cakes and pies that looked too yummy for words!

The best part was getting to squeeze my baby girl for an extra few minutes, feed her bits of a blueberry bar that her Mema got her hooked on while we were in Vegas (I tried to encourage her to eat some dinner with me, but she was having none of it - even the cake!). I got to hang out with Barbara and Ian, and we even got to see Hayden show off her new moves as she took a few steps to one of her teachers!

I am thankful that we have a place that cares so much about our baby girl. I am thankful for the owners, who truly put their hearts into this business. Thankful there are teachers who feel called to care for children and who do such an amazing job looking after and loving our little ones. Thankful that I have my little one to love and hold this year. Thankful for a wonderful family, the roof over our heads, and so many other blessings in my life. This afternoon, my belly is full of turkey and my heart is full of gratitude.

Now she's crossed the line

...from baby to toddler.

My wee baby girl decided to celebrate her 11 month birthday yesterday by taking her first steps.

My heart is cheering and breaking at the same time.

I had gotten her some new shoes that she wore for the first time yesterday, her Squeaker Sneakers, that I thought might encourage her to try out her mad skillz and take a step. Well, they did, and she did. I was walking with her around my in-laws den, and we headed over to where her daddy was standing, tinkering with the piano. With three paces left before we reached him, she turned loose and headed over their without me. Although her daddy didn't see those first steps because he was turned around and none of us expected that, her grandma and papa were delighted to watch her. Don't feel too bad for Chris, though. Right after that, she gave us an encore performance... and another... and another, and continued walking between Chris and I - 3 or 4 steps at a time - for another 10 minutes or so.

We were whooping and shouting, cheering and clapping. Hayden knew she'd done something big, and was giggling and grinning ear to ear. She was happily giving us "high fives" between shows and clapping for herself.

It was such an amazing moment. Of all the milestones she's reached so far, this one hit me the hardest, I think. I saw that we are truly at a turning point in her life, and all too soon her sweet, awkward crab-walking crawl will be a thing of the past, dismissed for running and jumping and skipping along.

Being a mother is such a wonderful, amazing, bittersweet journey of moving forward and letting go, and when you're lucky, toddling back for just one more hug and kiss before she leaves.

Way to go, baby girl! We're so proud of you, today and always!

Next week, we're trying brussel sprouts

Everyday, Hayden's teachers fill out a very detailed worksheet with all the goings-on of my daughter's day. Thanks to their tracking system, I know when she peed, when she pooped (I guess some parents like to stay up-to-the-minute), when she ate, how long she napped, any medicines she took, and at the bottom, there is a place for them to make notes to the parents. Most days, that area is blank, but we get the occasional "needs diapers, please" or "more wipes!!!" When we went to Vegas for a week, that space was filled with well- (and slightly jealous) wishes from all her teachers - "Hayden, we'll miss you!", "We love you, Hayden!", "Take me with you!", "See you next week!"

It's things like this that make me love Hayden's school and her teachers. They are the best, and you can tell they truly care about her.

Which is why I fell out laughing when I read the comment section from yesterday (This morning, getting her bag ready for today. I'm on top of things like that, you know.). At the bottom of the page, in nearly all caps, was this emphatic statement:

"Tried chicken. DID NOT LIKE. Spit out and SCREAMED AT
ME!!!! Wouldn't eat ANY MORE. 1pm"

Chris, had he been reading, would have accused, "I told you so," because I tried giving her chicken nearly 5 months ago, and she distained the stuff then. Then about 4 months ago, I tried to give her sweet potatoes (her favorite) mixed with chicken, with a similar reaction. Of course, I'd bought several jars of chicken, was down to very few veggies in the house, and I hate to see anything go to waste. So, I thought I'd go for a last ditch effort. I see now, that didn't work out so well. Our daughter, like both Chris and myself, has an aversion to "liquid chicken" as he calls it.

Her teacher told me this morning that you wouldn't believe the scream Hayden let out when that chicken hit her tongue, and she refused to even draw her tongue back into her mouth until the last of that pink nastiness had slid off into her lap. She wailed accusingly at her teacher for even trying to sneak that crap in on her, and I'm not sure she's forgiven her yet.

Have I mentioned how thankful I am for Hayden's teachers? If nothing else, they make great guinea pigs for trying things I'd rather not have Hayden hate me for later.

Just what the doctor ordered

Well, maybe not, but it sure did me good.

I just went home and had a big bowl of chili with lots of ooey-gooey cheese and sour cream and... oh shoot! I forgot the Fritos! Darn... well, it was supposed to have Fritos, too. And it was in a big, flaky biscuit bowl. Mmmmmmmmm...

Followed up with a couple (or three, don't judge me - they're good) white chocolate chunk-macadamia and cashew cookies.

All homemade, by the way. Watch out, Martha, Bonnie's coming up!

And had about 30 minutes left over to scrapbook for a bit before coming back to work.

It was a nice time-out from life's craziness. Definitely what the doctor would have ordered, I'm almost 100% certain.

For those of you who pray

I would ask that you please pray for Stellan. He just turned 1 year old last week, and is fighting for his life this very minute in a hospital in Boston. He is battling some heart defects he's had from birth, and they are rushing to perform a hopefully life-saving procedure on him right now. His mother is there with him alone right now, as his father is flying in to be with them.

Their faith in God's will and grace in their lives is amazing and uplifting, even during these trials. I pray that their faith is rewarded. Please, if you pray, pray for this little one and his family.

You can read updates about him here as his mother is able to post them - www.mckmama.com, and her tweets here - http://twitter.com/mckmama

No news is Good News

As I was getting ready for work this morning, I scrolled through the morning's top stories online just long enough to be sickened to my stomach. Another shooting rampage, this one on a military base, targeting those who volunteer to protect us. Another parent shot by their child in anger (shudder). Another execution on the horizon. More car wrecks, illnesses, dangers. I read long enough to remember why I don't read the news. It's hard to balance staying current with world issues to be informed, but avoiding enough of the horrid abominations humans inflict upon one another to keep you from sinking into an quagmire of depression.

What a sick, sad state things are in.

Whenever I feel this way, I think of my family. My wonderful friends. And most of all, my little church, and the God I know abides with each of us. I know that he can raise us up, keep us safe, and offer us a promise of a new day beyond this existance. One free from pain and heartache, devoid of shootings and wars. I lean on him, and amidst this turmoil, he renews my faith and hope.

Speaking of renewal, faith and hope, I did in fact get some WONDERFUL news this morning. My friends Jodi and Marius welcomed their sweet new baby girl into the world this weekend! Little Emi Addison joined us on October 31, 2009!

Me, Jodi and Hayden this summer.

They are missionaries living in Swaziland, and they had her in South Africa. Please keep your thoughts and prayers with them as they adjust to this new time in their lives, and pray that Jodi's parents arrive safely for their first visit with their new granddaughter.

I can't wait to meet little Emi! She's just such a doll baby, and has nearly as much hair as Hayden did when she was born. I'll share pics soon!

Have a happy Friday and a great weekend, all!

A Mother's Purse

Growing up, I always wondered why my mom's purse was so HUGE. It might as well have been a backpack, it was so giant. I couldn't figure out why she didn't want a cute little chic purse. Now, even though I only have one child and she was tackling three, I think I'm beginning to understand a little more.

I looked in my purse this morning to find:

• My wallet
• 4 bottles of medicine, tylenol, ibuprofen and the accompanying syringes and spoons
• A bib
• One baby shoe (no clue where the other is)
• A pair of socks (mine)
• A pair of socks (Hayden's)
• Two corks (Silver Oak, thank you very much)
• Baby Keys (don't know why - she only likes my keys
• A diaper
• A powerbar
• Cheerios (and some of them are even in a container!)
• Lip gloss (don't know why - my face hasn't seen makeup in 10 months!)
• Cell phones
• A onesie
• An empty plastic bottle (one of her favorite toys)
• and I should have my keys in here somewhere, but of course, amongst all this other crap, I can't find them.

Say what?

Hayden is now saying "Buh Bye" and "Uh Oh" (which often comes out sounding like a little foghorn - "errhhh aaaahhhhrroo", but I know what she means) at will, and by "at will", I mean pretty much never. Hayden's MO is to learn a new skill, trick or word, repeat it frequently and with fervor for several days until she masters it, then to discard it like an old sock and refuse to illustrate her talents except under much duress and after much pleading and cajoling from us. Much like she will as a teenager, I'm sure. Back to the point of my story (yes, there was one, thank you very much!), now that she's easing into the world of the spoken word, it has me thinking back to some of the early and favorite phrases used in our house as I grew up. Many of these have become classics, epic punchlines that only need to be stated at the opportune moment to reduce our entire family to breathless laughter. Those sorts of memories and inside stories and jokes are what binds a family together. It's what makes us look absolutely crazy to outsiders, but lets anyone who understands the meaning behind the words know that they are a part of a larger whole. They are, for better or worse, a member of this ramshakle team.



Now, while many of you will have no idea why some of these things are funny (and, I have to admit, after this many years, I still don't get why some of them are funny, they just are), I'm going to share our top 10 greatest phrases of all time.



10. "Cheesecake boat's a comin', better hurry on down" - Dad or Grace

(This is sung in a very deep voice, and inevitably has Grace and Dad crying from laughter. Apparently there was this comedian this one time, on this show who had a song about cheesecake or something, and I don't know, I guess you had to be there, but it's pretty funny anyway. Just smile and nod)



9. "Somebody gonna hav'ta 'coot over!" - Grace, age 2ish

(Announced loudly to the rest of the family one night on a camping trip, as we were all settling down to sleep in the back of our camper-top truck bed. Apparently even being the tiniest family member didn't make getting squashed against the wheel welll acceptable for Gracie.)



8. "Everybody's different. I'm different, you're different, we're all different" - Bonnie, age 5 or 6

(My parents had a group of students from the college over to watch a movie (the old reel style projector with the screen at the front of the room) and I apparently decided to give a very matter-of-fact little lesson to the crowd about what makes us all unique as we were waiting for the movie to roll)



7. "Candy, Candy,CANDY!" -Mom

(This was said by mom as she would lunge at you, like a crazed candy monster. Ususally after Halloween when she was 'after' your candy. Always sent Grace and I running to protect our stashes!)

6. "House of Insanity" -Any of us

(standard greeting when you call the house. So true. So, so true.)

5. "How's your Helper?" - Mom or Dad

(It means, how's your dinner. Quoted from Family Vacation - the brother in law was so broke, they didn't have Hamburger, just Helper. Cracked us up, apparently. Still does.)

4. "CHAMP! The Wonder Dog!" - Dad

(Refers to our late, great husky mix, Champ. Ususally when he did something especially profound like lay down, or sniff his own butt. He was a Wonder Dog!)

3. "Flaps down." or "Flaps up", also goes along with "And we're OFF! Like a herd of turtles!" - All of us

(Flaps up and down, while referring to airplane wings, equals arm rests in our mini van. Mom or Dad would call "Flaps down?", and we'd slap the arm rests down and confirm back - "Flaps down!" And inevitably, after umpteen runs back in the house for this or that, or for a last minute potty break, we'd be OFF! Like a herd of very slow turtles to whatever great adventure lay in store.)

2. "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." - ALL of us

(This quote is from only the greatest movie EVER - the Princess Bride. Quoting that movie is an integral part of being in my family. We love them all - "Have fun storming the castle!", and "I do not think that means what you think it means", and "Twue Love")

And last, but by NO MEANS least,

1. "Wanna see sompin?" - Dan, age 3ish

(My brother's infamous saying, discovered years later in the annals of our family videotape, which he asked the 'audience' while filming his "stories" (nursery rhymes and songs) alone in the den one day. And apparently, after getting confirmation that his imaginary audience did, in fact, want to "see sompin", he, with great flourish, dropped trou. No, he's not a stripper now, why do you ask?)

Why I love him...

Last night, Chris looked at me and out of the blue said, "Sometimes, I can't believe that you're all mine."

*Swoon*, especially considering with this crazy lady he's married to, he should be saying, "Sometimes, I can't believe that I'm stuck with you!" He probably has no idea that little statement made my whole month.

He's a good one, I tell ya. Good one!

10 Things I did last week

1. Drove a 12-person van down the Strip in Vegas.
2. Drank a half-liter of beer at the Hofbrauhaus (and ate a ginormous Wienerschnitzel!)
3. Dressed in both my scrubbiest garb and my finest work outfits - for the same event.
4. Watched two nearly-naked women slide down an inflatable slide into a pool inside the convention center. (Monster Energy Drink booth - those things are out of hand)
5. Ate 3 Hewbrew National Hotdogs, 3 Cheeseburgers, one of the best steaks of my life and some macaroni to die for.
6. Celebrated my boss' birthday at one of our favorite restaurants - Del Frisco's (see: latter part of #5).
7. Flew on a 4-hour plane ride with a 10 month old baby. Twice. And survived.
8. Became even further indebted to my mom, who made the trip with us to watch said 10 month old.
9. Took Hayden to her first trip to the Hofbrauhaus
10. Left Hayden's crib at the airport -once, but attempted the feat twice. (Thanks, Mom!)

Kidney Update

Today I took Hayden for her renal ultrasound (scan of her tummy and back to look at her kidneys and bladder), and the VCUG procedure to evaluate whether she has Kidney Reflux. After a torturous hour and a half for the both of us, we got the good word from the radiologist that everything looks "normal". An exceedingly short diagnosis, but a terrific one nonetheless. Her doctor should get the full report tomorrow and give us a complete rundown.

Yippie Kai Yai Yay! Thank God!

Please keep your fingers crossed that this is the last procedure we have to endure for some time. They are very traumatic for Hayden - she's figured out this whole doctor visit thing, and has very little trust of anyone in scrubs or other uniforms. In fact, last week in Vegas, she kept crying when the housekeeper came in to clean our room - I think her uniform reminded her of her nurses'. The visits are also pretty traumatizing to me as well. It truly is torture to have to help pin my daughter down as these strangers cause her anxiety, fear and pain, and the only thing that keeps me from fleeing the room is knowing that I have to be strong for her, and also knowing that these procedures are for the greater good, so while they are no fun, it's better than the alternatives. I just pray we don't have any more for a good long while, and if, heaven forbid we do, that they continue to come back negative for problems!

Over and out!

Pumpkin Patch Kids

Yesterday, my friend Jenni and I took our kids on their first trips to the Pumpkin Patch. We made the very wise decision of meeting early in the morning, when the faithful were all at church and we therefore beat the worst of the crowds.

The weather was absolutely perfect - sun shining, the cool, crisp morning giving way to a toasty fall day, leaves changing to searing colors in their final hurrah before succumbing to winter. We took a short hayride to the patch, after gazing for a few moments at the farm animals (all of which had huge signs proclaiming that the animals BITE!, which to me made little sense to include them at such a kiddie-fueled attraction, but hey, whatever works, right?). Although the patches were getting a bit sparse, there were still enough of the oversized orange gourds to entertain our wee ones. There were also some teeny specimens perfect for little hands, although our little hands were more entertained by grass and decaying chunks of pumpkin flesh than the pretty, intact, non-rancid pumpkins scattered about them. (For the record, Tilden was the grass gobbler, Hayden was most interested in the rotten rinds. As Jenni put it, only my daughter! The first of many proud moments, no doubt, I will have in my life.)

After playing in the warm field for a few hours, our hunger got the best of us, so we fled the descending hordes of church-goers who were taking their turns with their fall-frocked youngsters in the patch and went in search of food. We enjoyed a delightful lunch in which there was no screaming, no food throwing, minimal food-dropping, and impeccable manners (at least on Hayden and Tilden's parts).

I am so looking forward to Halloween next week, especially after this wonderful initiation into fall! Tell me, did any of you brave a visit to a pumpkin patch this year? Was it the picture-perfect day ours was?

Happy Halloween!

Tilden stands up on his own for the first time, using this great pumpkin for support! Big milestone, and you can tell how pleased he is with himself for reaching it!

Hayden loves on a pumpkin while giving me a "what the heck are you doing, Mom" look that I'm sure I'll become all too familiar with over the years. In the meantime, this is my favorite picture from the day. Love that classic Padgett half-grin.

Hayden and Tilden having a blast rolling around the patch.

Apparently, I snapped this during a very serious discussion.

Tilden loved hanging out on his tummy like this. It made the grass-chomping so much easier.

Jenni and Tilden playing in the patch. LOVE this picture!

This is a happy boy, here. Of course, who wouldn't be, surrounded by such lovely pumpkins?! I just wish you could see those amazing dimples. I swear, they're each a mile deep and make you want to just gobble those sweet little cheeks up in a single bite!

Hayden and Tilden inspecting the baby pumpkins for ripeness and quality. They are our number one inspectors - very thorough. Hayden squeezes each one to ensure it's just the right firmness and Tilden carefully wipes each one clean (and is happy to dispose of any grass that may be clinging to it).

Hayden quickly showed her affection for Tilden by jumping up and hugging him several times around the neck. I'm afraid she's already a little boy crazy. Although he doesn't appear to pay much attention here, he confirmed his fond feelings for her later by snatching a handful of her hair and tugging it in the classic style of a smitten lad. Hayden, unfortunately, didn't take the news well, and responded with a rebuking wail. Moments later, all was forgiven, and she was back to her clingy ways. Again, I'm sure, previews of coming attractions!

We've got mail.......box

After 6 months of concerted (read: totally disorganized) effort, we finally have a mailbox up at our new place. We moved in to our new home over Easter weekend, and now on the eve of Halloween and the other fall holidays, we have a new home for our mail to go.

It has taken 6... no, wait, 7 trips to Home Depot, 2 trips to Lowes, several hours of online searches, and many, many trips to the end of our driveway to complete this surprisingly complicated project. First we got the box. Then we had to go back to try to find the right post for the box. And go back again to try to find a post. And look somewhere else for it, then go back to the first place to see if we could settle on one of theirs. Then go back to the second, before finally determining the first one we saw would do the job just fine. Then there was the contemplation of house numbers. Oh, the agony. Finally, we found the right numbers but decided we'd need to stain the post for them to show up properly. Another trip - first for the stain, then back for a brush because we realized we couldn't find out paintbrushes from the move. And so on, and so forth.

We have had the post in the ground for about 5 months now, and have just been waiting on the right opportunity to stain it. Finally, I began working on the project in baby steps over my lunch hour a few weeks ago, and go us to the point of needing just the box.

After much ado (I'll spare the oh-so-exciting and gory details) (By the way, have I mentioned how well Chris and I work together? It's amazing we're both still alive after building this house, I tell ya.), we finally were getting the box set in place last night, just as a couple of the builder's guys drove by. They, of course, had to stop and congratulate us on completing this massive task, which they could have completed in under an hour if we hadn't been so damn cheap to want to save the $20 we'd have had to pay in contractor's fees. I seriously can't remember why we chose not to do that, and I'm electing to not remember that that was an option from here on out.

Hey, when you've got a 10 month old, a new house, 13 acres in dire need of maintanance, and you both work full time, you celebrate the small victories.

Who wants to bet the first piece of correspondence we get after all this effort is junk mail?

Love Letter, 10 months

Hayden Elizabeth, my darling daughter, I find it hard to believe you are 10 months old already! Where has the time gone? I savor every day with you these days. It seems you are always learning something new, showing your personality and intellect. You are such a wonderful happy baby to be around, and you dazzle all who meet you.

We often have to stop several times around the grocery store, or on errands just to let people ooh and ahh over you. It makes me so proud to be your Mama, the mother of the most beautiful baby ever, the mother of the sweetest baby ever, the mother of the most loving baby ever. You are often compared to a porcelain doll, with your tiny nose and rosebud mouth, your beautiful long lashes, those rosy cheeks and the glowing blue eyes as deep as the ocean. And of course, the hair! All that lovely, dark, curling swirling mass of hair that halos your sweet face. People are constantly amazed at you, and I am constantly amazed at the blessing it is to be your mother, to call you my own wee daughter. You make me so proud, my wee one. My pooky-looky bear. My little petunia pickle bumble bottom. My little bit. My (and your daddy's!) tater bug. My stinker-binker-winker. My Haydie-pie. My sweet potato queen. My angel baby. My lovely little dovey. My turkey little lurky.

You are on the go these days, my little spit-fire. You have mastered that crawling deal (although you still love to prop one foot up to propel you along at a startlingly fast rate instead of crawling 'normally') (which, by the way, I like just fine. If I can teach you one thing, (no, strike that, I can't pick just one thing, but do please listen to this), it would be to know that we're all different, everyone of us. That's by God's design, and it's something to celebrate and embrace, not to shy away from or be ashamed of. It's a beautiful miracle that we're each in His image, yet never has their been two people identically created. Think about that.) You are always on the go, and are happy to chase us, or be chased, around the house. You love pulling up, and are so much better at lowering yourself down these days - much fewer of those 'unintentional' landings that upset you so badly, although I fear we'll see more of those as you get closer to walking. You have stood up several times and let go of your props, but this does more to mystify you than encourage you at this point. You are quick to crouch down to a safe 'drop zone' to ensure a soft landing. You are very unsure of what to do with this newfound skill and aren't ready to attack it with purpose yet - you only end up in that position unintentionally so far, like when you reach for a toy with both hands before realizing there is nothing holding you up.

You love to laugh these days, and will belt out the most hilarious squeals, especially when being tickled or playing 'getcha' with me. You LOVE peek-a-boo, and often go straight for your daddy's hat when he gets home, so you can pull it over your face while he calls, "where's Hayden?", and then with great flourish you sweep the hat away to reveal your hiding place! You two are so cute playing that game.

You also love giving kisses. You don't yet 'blow' kisses, but you will lean toward me and daddy (and anyone else lucky enough) and bestow the sweetest, gentlest, often open-mouthed kisses on our lips. It's something I love more than words can describe, and oh baby, if you were old enough to ask me for money or the car keys, I'd be in big trouble, because that just melts me into a big pile of goo when you, for no reason at all, suddenly lean over and search out my face with your gentle little kisses.

You are a master growler when you're playing. We're not sure where you picked it up, but you can growl just like a hungry dog protecting his food dish. It's not at all like a baby sound and parents of children in your class have often been startled by your unusual antics.

You love music, especially bluegrass. Anything fast with a good beat and tempo, you love. The other day, your Grandma and Papa turned the TV to some bluegrass and when that bango sounded, we were sure you were about to take your first steps (as your daddy likes to recount) getting to that TV. You reached up and boogied that booty in time with the music as you clapped and squealed your delight.

You have taken a break from waving and saying 'bye bye'. Just like all your new skills, once you've demonstrated them enough to show us you can do them, you no longer feel the need to prove your capabilities, and will then refuse to perform them again until it suits you. Oh well. I know you can do it. You know you can do it. God only knows when you'll decide to do it again, though.

You have become a master pointer. You know what you want to look at or touch or grab, and you have no problem showing us with that commanding little digit of yours. You point at the pictures of the birds at Grandma and Papa's, and they are happy to oblige you by toting you over to see the birds. You point at the bottle you want, the cheerios (still one of your favorite snacks), the toys, the phone, my keys, whatever you want, you know how to tell us.

Speaking of, you've also become adept at telling me what you don't want. You shake that head no with a ferocious decisiveness if I try to offer you a food you don't want, a medicine you aren't interest in, or if you disagree with something I've said. "Time to take a ride, Hayden", *shake, shake, shake!* "Time to get in your carseat," *shake, shake, shake!* Of course, sometimes you just enjoy telling me no, even when you really do want something. "Here's Bunny Bear, Hayden" *shake, shake, GRAB!*

Bunny Bear has become your best little buddy this past month. You love that soft, floppy beany bear of a toy, and you take him with you everywhere. Bunny Bear can soothe almost any irritation, dry your tears, and cuddle you to sleep. You love to hug him to you and smother him with kisses, and you stroke his soft ears over your eyes as you doze off to dreamland. At the same time, I thank heaven for Bunny Bear and his magical powers, I also fear the day we lose him or misplace him, and the effect that will have on your state of mind. For that reason, we try to rotate him out with Mister Corn, your 'sweet' unicorn, Pooh bear, and a number of other fluffy friends. So far, Bunny Bear remains unmatched for your affections, but not the sole source of comfort, so I am keeping my fingers crossed.

For now, good night, sleep tight, and hold tight to your Bunny Bear my sweet darling, for we have big adventures that lie ahead of us. Namely, Las Vegas in a week for your first NACS adventure!

All my love, Mama

Which way did it go?

Apparently, that's the question with Hayden, whose poor little body can't seem to figure out which way to send fluids. Instead of going down, down, down as they are supposed to, her body wants to send things back up. Up is not supposed to be an option. Up is not cool.

In addition to gastrointestinal reflux, which she was diagnosed with at several months old, she now potentially has vesicoureteral reflux, also known as kidney reflux. Many people are familiar with GERD, where fluids from the stomach travel back up the esophagus, causing pain, inflammation and damage. We've been treating her GERD for months now, and with a recent adjustment in medications, seem to finally have that under control and she seems to be sleeping and feeling much better.

That is, until this past week when she began spiking very high fevers - 104, 103 range fevers - with no other apparent symptoms except not acting very spunky and wanting to cuddle more than normal. After several days with no change, we went back to trusty ol' Dr. V, who ordered the usual round of checks - strep, urinalysis, flu, eye, ear, sinus - and all came back negative. Hmmm... That's different. So, off we trotted to the hospital for a SUPER FUN blood draw. And when I say SUPER FUN, I mean holding-the-baby-down, tying-a-tourniquet-on-her-arm, letting-her-scream-bloody-murder, watching-a-nurse-jab-her-while-repeatedly-failing-to-find-a-vein kind of fun. You know, that sort of lovely family moment every new mom envisions sharing with her sweet babe. Got the results that night, which were that her white blood count and inflammation levels were elevated, so they wanted to start her on antibiotics ASAP and talk to us the next day to review the more detailed urine culture results and make plans.

So the next day, with indications pointing toward a urinary tract infection (UTI), still some fever, although much better, got the news that Dr. V wanted us to go back to the hospital AGAIN to have some more FUN with the bloodsuckers to see if the white counts or inflammation had improved. More baby-tackling, holy-hell-screaming, sweet-baby-flesh-piercing fun. GAH.
All the while, I'm still not exactly sure what we're getting at. Not sure why I'm torturing my child so, or why we're on antibiotics really, since we weren't really sure about the UTI. She hadn't yet mentioned the kidney reflux, so I was getting increasingly worried and frustrated.

Fast forward to today. I got a call just before lunch that explained a lot, and opened up many new questions and concerns. First of all, Hayden has a kidney, bladder and UT infection. That's the cause of the fever, white counts and inflammation. The antibiotics we're using are treating it, and she appears to be responding. We'll touch base Monday to follow up, and go back Wednesday for another urinalysis to be sure. Learned that they want to check her to see about this kidney reflux deal, so we'll be headed to Scottish Rite later this month to do some invasive, and at the very least, extremely irritating (to Hayden anyway) tests to see if she does have it, and if so, how severe.

I am trying not to be overly concerned. It's apparently not totally uncommon, and is treatable, and hopefully in Hayden's case, caught quickly. The concerning part is that even small amounts of kidney damage at this age can cause lifelong problems, and I am hoping that we have gotten her help soon enough to prevent most of that.

So, for now, it's more hurry up and wait, and while Chris is busy teaching Hayden her ABC's, I'm going to try to figure out if I can't teach her body North from South...

On a lighter note...

I think McDonald's has undertaken a rather misguided approach to cost cutting. Not that I frequent the restaurant that often, but in the past several months there have been several occasions that lack of time, relative proximity to the 'restaurant', and intense hunger pains have dictated I stop there for a hot (usually) meal.

In those instances, I have, without fail, been given a meal without any of the following:

• Napkins. Not a one. Ever.
• Straws. Apparently, I should just turn the cup up and suck my drink through the cross-hatched lid. That should be easy enough in a moving vehicle.
• Condiments. This especially irks me when they take the time to ask me while I'm at the menu board if I'd like sauce, and I don't discover the lack thereof until I have pulled away from the window.

Rather than saving money, they are in my opinion, ostracising customers and ensuring they will return only under duress or extreme circumstances. Of course, since my daughter is still young enough to not recognize and demand the golden arches, perhaps I'm underestimating the will of a 3 year old with a McNugget craving. Perhaps this is how McDonald's knows that I will return, despite the miserable service, terrible food, and lack of proper eating utensils. Only time will tell.

I'll tell you one thing, though. They don't skimp on the toys. As I found out recently, you MUST take a toy with a Happy Meal. Even though I asked politely that I get a Happy Meal without one, as my baby can't yet play with them, and I'd rather them save the wretched piece of Chinese Molded Crap for the next eager youngster instead of being forced to find a place to dispose of it, they refused. You must take this meal - which we will give without utensils, napkins or sauces - and the stupid toy, because, as the 'young gentleman' at the window so keenly pointed out, "everyone needs a little joy. Don't you want some joy?" I am not sure how Chris and I both managed to keep our act together enough through this taunting of our joy-less lives to keep us from telling the multi-pierced, dangling-earlobed, misspelled-tattooed kid where he could stick our joy, because while he was so insistent about the damn toy, he managed to get the entirety of the FOOD portion of our order wrong, cold and without napkins.

Somewhere along the way, that place lost the magic. Or maybe I just lost my joy...

Trial by Fire

Yesterday, I got a phone call from one of my very best friends that her house had just burned down. Entirely down. Thankfully, they were not home when it happened, so she, her husband and her infant son are all safe and sound, but I know the loss is just devastating nonetheless.

In a moment, their entire lives were turned upside down. So many of the things they hold near and dear are now a soggy pile of ashes and rubble. They have such a great perspective on it. While I know they will grieve for memories and keepsakes lost, they are so very thankful that they still have one another and that they have friends and family to help them through this time.

They are the latest in a series of updates I have gotten on friends and family this week, all of whom are struggling with their own trials and tribulations.

A dear friend is facing divorce, again, and this time has a baby who will walk this road with her. I know it is an added source of anxiety and sorrow for her that her child will endure this, but I pray that her son will bring her joy and hope and peace as well.

Another family is losing their home and farm. The result of people not keeping their word and bond, of a sour economy and a lack of work, this couple who should be enjoying their retirement and their grandchildren are now figuring out how to start over. They're watching the fruits of their labors evaporate before them. It's a heartbreaking scene, to say the least.

And yet another friend, who did his best to keep afloat during this economic storm, and help others to tread water, made some unfortunate choices that is going to cost him so very dearly. In this era of intolerance for bending the rules, I'm afraid it is a heavy book indeed that will be thrown at him. And while he is owning up entirely to the situation, it is so saddening to watch his family and friends suffer the consequences as well; innocent bystanders all.

For me, watching those I love and care for suffer so it intolerable. It wrenches my sleep from me and tears at my heartstrings. I selfishly am so thankful for the blessings that I have, for the road that I am walking which is so unfettered by obstacles, for God's grace in my life. At the same time, I believe in my heart of hearts that God's grace is with each of them as well. Whenever I witness someone enduring one of these challenges of life, I think back to the poem "Footprints", and I can see the way God is carrying them through the valley. I know it is hard in the midst of tragedy to see the miracles that are worked in our lives, but I truly believe He is with us all. While we cannot live a life devoid of sorrow or strife, He can find ways to lift us up and bless us through the grief. He can bring us hope, and love, and happiness, and help us continue on in faith.

Please, when you pray, pray for my friends and family in need. And I, when I pray, will pray for each of you.

Father, I have sinned...

I have a confession to make. I haven't checked my personal email account in nearly a month. I haven't been on Facebook in nearly 2 months. I refuse to Twitter, and you're lucky I'm even writing this. I am proud to note, however, I have checked my personal voicemail twice in the last week. TWICE. That has to be a record!

I know, shameful. But, seriously, am I the only one that gets completely, utterly, overwhelmingly overwhelmed by all this freaking technology?!?! Or just by life in general? There are some days, it's a comfort, a refuge, a place to turn to when I'm bored or curious or excited to share, and there are days it is absolutely a cement block around my feet, dragging me to the ocean floor.

The problem is with all this technology, being updated ALL. THE. TIME. is that it's like a high-speed train. It leaves the station with a quick jolt, a lurch, and then steadily picks up speed until you're flying off to who knows where so fast you can only make out a greenish blur of vegatation out the window. Once you start, there is no easy stopping point. There isn't a pause button, an emergency pull handle by your increasingly uncomfortable, slightly cramped seat on this bullet train. There's no way to call a time out without being dumped out of the cargo car uncerimoniously to be quickly forgotten by the rest of the passengers, who are all nose-down in their blackberries and ipones anyway, and barely missed you as you excused yourself to slide by them to the bar car.

I've probably carried this metaphor on for too long, but my point is, I get tired. I get overwhelmed, and I just want all that crap to go away from time to time. Why can't we get back to the days of the pony express? I could handle things much better if they came at me 1-2 letters at a time, instead of the 50-100 I get in my inbox everyday. That doesn't include the messages on my phoneSSSS, on my personal inbox, in my mailbox, and on my facebook page.
Those of you who know me, know I love to talk and communicate as much as the next person, but in the words of an old friend of mine, "class, can we all just put our heads down for a bit?"

A Difference of Opinion

Last night, late (after 10pm, what a fuddy-duddy am I?), I had gotten Hayden's diaper changed, got her pj's on her, and had her new BFF - her bunny bear - in hand. We settled into my bed and I began nursing her to sleep. As her little fingers caressed bunny bear's ears and her body relaxed, I watched her eyes droop lower and lower. Finally, she took a big sigh, and rolled away from me. The signal she was giving up the fight and watching the nightly sugarplum dance behind her heavy lids.



Last night however, instead of staying on her side, she flipped all the way over to her tummy and buried her face into the comforter, then flipped her head to the side with a contented sigh, and eyes closed, smacked her lips in contentment. I held still, waiting until a deep sleep took over before I moved her to her crib for the night. Before I could draw another breath, though, she suddenly popped straight up on her knees, eyes bright and alert, looked at me with a devilish grin and announced "BAWK!"



I tried to reason with her. "Hayden, it's bedtime now. Time to go to sleep. Mommy's very tired, and we all need to lay down and close our..."



"BAWK! BAWK! BAWK! Heeeeeeeeee!"



"Hayden, come on now. Why don't you lay down and let Mommy rub your back until you fall asleep?"



"Ha ah ah eeeee eeehhhaa. Pfffffffffffttttttttthhhhhhh", she answered, blowing happy raspberries at me as I tried to wrangle her back to the bed. She was intent on climbing the headboard, and in no mood to lay down.



She was too cute for me to be frustrated, despite how exceedingly tired I was, and I had to hide a smile as she fluttered her lips at me, spit bubbles flying.



Now that we have her sleeping most of the nights (Hallelujah for that!), I suppose our next challenge will be getting her to sleep!

The Sing Off!

I have mentioned my dad's barbershop quartet group, Martha's Finest, before, but they're worth mentioning again. This is one of the hottest groups around, folks, and if you don't believe this bragging daughter, just let me tell you this - NBC called them and wants them to come audition for their new show, The Sing Off! It's a new show where a cappela groups compete for a Sony record deal, and I think the fact they were called and asked to audition is note-worthy in and of itself, regardless of how far they get (although they should take it all they way to the top, if you ask me!)

The auditions are in Atlanta tomorrow, so wish them luck and say a little prayer that all goes well for this AMAZING quartet! I know they'll rock their socks off!

Thought for the day

If you have the faith, God has the power.

Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!

The child slept for 6 1/2 hours straight last night. SIX AND A HALF HOURS! Can you hear the angel choruses in the background? I never thought I'd see the day again where I could write that!

After 3 months of not sleeping an average of more than 1 hour at a time during the night, Hayden finally seems to be putting down the picket sign and calling off the strike. Thank heavens for small favors. I can quit mumbling and drooling and come out of the corner. Okay, well I'll at least come out of the corner.

For months we've searched for the reason and solution to her (and subsequently our) sleepless nights. This is a baby who slept 6 hours by the time she was a month old, and for months was down to 1-2 wake ups a night. I could handle a one time feeding. 7-8 feedings was a whole other story. I've been on the verge of a breakdown, and she's been a frantic mess every night as I try to soothe her back to sleep.

At first, we thought it was a cold she'd gotten. And it very well may have been. Then maybe it was the sinus infection. Or the ear infection. Or eye infection. Or the next cold. Or she was hitting a growth spurt and was hungry. Or she wanted comforting. Or the sinus infection. Or the strep throat... It's gone on and on with endless issues that may have been causing her fretfulness.

We enlisted help from doctors, advice from friends and family, researched tirelessly (although, it was really more like tired-ly, because, well, we weren't sleeping much) online and in books for answers. We tried everything - sleeping with her next to our bed, in our bed, in her room, on me, on Chris, upside down hanging from her toes, tied to the ceiling fan, you name it (well, most of those, anyway. I was getting pretty willing to try the last two if she didn't start sleeping soon!).

The only thing I was not willing to try was to let her 'cry it out'. I know many people out there are proponents of that, and I say, to each their own. For me and my daughter, that wasn't an option. Primarily for two reasons. One, crying is her only way right now to communicate her needs with me. If I ignore her and teach her that I won't come when she cries, I'm breaking her trust in me to be there and care for her. When she reaches an age that she can speak and we can talk, crying it out may be an option. Secondly, I know my daughter, and I know there was a reason she was waking up at night. Something was bothering her. She didn't want to be awake any more than I did. She was hurting and uncomfortable. I just hadn't been able to figure out why, and I wasn't going to just ignore her pained cries because I wanted to sleep.

So, last week when I took her to the doctor and found out she had strep throat, I mentioned again that she wasn't sleeping more than an hour or so at a time. I told the doctor that we really needed help, because I was a mama on the edge. The doctor nonchalantly asked me how long the 'not sleeping' had been going on, and I told her it was at least three months. She spun around and looked at me incredulously. Finally, I had her attention. This wasn't a phase, it wasn't a cold, it wasn't for comfort. Something was wrong. We began discussing the waking in detail. Discussing Hayden's behaviour, her cries, how we have been able to get her back to sleep, what hasn't been working, everything. And at the end of that discussion, Dr. V told me that she thought it sounded like Hayden's reflux was flaring up again.

My first thought was, "great! At least that's something we can fix." My second thought was along the lines of, "are you freaking kidding me? I've been awake for three months straight because my daughter has heartburn and no one would listen to me about the not sleeping mess?!?!?" So, with some adjustments to her reflux medicine and the addition of a new one, we were on our way with a potential solution.

Now, nearly a week into the change, we've been seeing very positive results. Hayden has sleep an average of 4 hours at a stretch, and has been fussy when she wakes probably from a combination of the reflux and strep still. Once we've had a few weeks for her medicine to fully take effect, we'll know better, but I feel so much better knowing she's not hurting, and I look forward to nighttime so much more than I have in ages. I don't have that dread in the pit of my stomach as the clock inches toward bedtime. I look at my pillow, my lovely fluffy pillow and daydream about laying my head on it and getting to stay there long enough to do some serious drooling. I tell you, my pillow case has stayed too damn clean the last few months. Not enough chances for true dead-to-the-world, fly-catching mouth, shaking-the-rafters-snoring kind of sleep lately. Well, my dear pillow, get ready - we've got some lost time to make up for!

PS - after seeing the results of the medicine, I'm doubly happy I trusted my instincts and didn't let her cry it out. Can you imagine if your mouth was duct-taped so you couldn't speak, and you woke up in the middle of the night in a bed you couldn't get out of, and you were hurting, and the only person that could help you or comfort you or alleviate your pain ignored you so they could sleep? That's all that keeps running through my mind when I think about staying in bed and letting her scream. I wouldn't want someone to do it to me, and I just can't bring myself to do it to her.

Again, though, to each their own. This is simply my choice for my family.

Cold Feet

First wedding cake I've made in over a year. 14 layers baked, 6 more to go. Just starting the icing for it all. Know how much icing 14 layers of wedding cake takes? Try THIRTY cups of icing. That's a lot of butter. It's a lot of everything, really. I only have to do 14 layers worth of icing because 6 layers are German Chocolate. Haven't even started that topping yet.

Thankfully, Mom came over to help me today, and between us we're rocking and rolling this thing out.

Keep your fingers crossed and pray I make it to the ceremony without incident!

I'll share pictures next week...

Pretty much sums up my day

I went out tonight to walk the dogs, and as I was standing there, urging them to do their business, I noticed a patch of clover near my feet and was transported back to my childhood, when mom woul dstop us at any patch of clover we saw so we could search out an elusive four-leafed specimen, "for luck". I momentarily forgot the dogs and their 'business', forgot all the worries and stresses of work and of raising a small child, and just went to my own youth for a moment and, leashes in hand, began poking through the tiny plants in search of a shamrock worthy of permanent safekeeping in a favorite book, pressed between two pieces of waxed paper.

Suddenly, there it was! A big, beautiful four-leafed clover in pristine condition. As I stooped to pluck it from its stalk, I felt something tickle my foot. My exposed, flip-flop clad foot. Looking behind me to the ped in question, I was horrified to immediately recognize the greenish object snaking its way across my toes. My dear old Stormy, who is 16 1/2 years old, nearly blind and almost fully deaf, had found the perfect place to take care of things, so to speak, and unfortunately my foot got in the way of those plans.

Of course, maybe this was just his subtle way of letting me know that he's noticed I don't spend as much time with him and the boys these days, and they're a little sick of it. Either way, it made for a nauseating and uncomfortable trip back to the house.

Ah, ain't life grand?

In which my heart breaks into a gazillion million pieces...

...for the first of what I am sure will be many times.

As I mentioned earlier this week, Hayden's been sick. So I stayed out of work with her Tuesday to take care of all the errands, precriptions, baby wrangling and subsequent baby cuddling required to make a wee one feel better. We spent the entire day together - playing, crying, nursing, napping, listening to (me) and swatting at (her) doctors and nurses.

So when Hayden's daddy came home, she was of course happy to see him and went right to him, snuggling into his arms and clapping his shoulder and squealing with delight. They talked and cuddled for a few minutes, then he started to hand her back to me so he could go get something, and that's when it happened. She reached out and grabbed my heart right out of my chest, squeezed it in her tiny fist, then flung it to the ground like a toy she was bored of, shattering it into itty bitty pieces.

As I reached for her, she took that cute, chubby little arm, reached out and with her sweet, angelic little fingers, pried my hand off her waist and flung it off like an offending bit of filth that dared to touch her darling little outfit. And then she spun around and clung to her daddy's neck and refused to look at me.

After all this time of being a mama's girl, I can feel the tide a changing. And it's a bitter cold wind blowing those waves.

Honestly, part of me is overjoyed to see her bonding so well with her daddy. I'm glad that he's a comfort to her, and it thrills me to see her face light up when he comes home each day. I know that makes things easier on him when I'm not around, and for that I'm grateful. It still doesn't mean that her choosing him over me didn't cut like a knife. And even though moments later she was ready to come to mama, the hurt of that rejection still stings. And I know it's just the first of many. I know there will come a time when she doesn't want to kiss me goodbye in the mornings. A time when she'll want me to let her out around the corner so her friends don't see her mom drove her. A time when she'll just want some money and to be let out at the door of the mall because it's too 'uncool' to be seen with me. And I know all of these things are my just desserts, because I inflicted the same pain on my mom, on both my parents, I know.

I just wasn't prepared for that inevitable pulling away to start so soon!

Ms. Morissette, I've got your irony right here

Last night Hayden slept 5 hours straight. Her lack of sleeping - consecutively- any amount of time whatsoever is a whole other story entirely that I will share with you one day soon, but if you've been wondering who that twitching, mumbling, scratching-at-sores-that-aren't-there woman is huddled in the corner, that's me. I have recently fallen completely off the edge of the crazy abyss from lack of sleep.

Anyway, back to last night. She slept. FIVE. WHOLE. HOURS. Without waking up, screaming, crying, throwing binkys and teddies from her crib. The child sawed some serious zzzz's. Me, I should have woken up refreshed and slightly befuddled to be getting my first wake up call at 3am. I should have danced to her room to sweep her chubby little body from her crib and smother her with kisses for the blessing of FIVE. WHOLE. HOURS. of sleep.

Instead, enter irony with a capital I. Her daddy had to go fetch her, because me? I had just begun to doze off. I, brainiac that I am, let my prescription run out yesterday, and since you know I was already at the imaginary-sore-scratching stage, there was no sleep for me. None. I woke up more last night with her sleeping than I have the entire last weekend of her waking every hour. I was up every ten minutes, and my mind was teasing me. Letting me think I was dropping...off...into...blissfu... WAKE UP!!! WAKE UP!!! YOU HAVE TO CHECK THE LOCKS! DID YOU GET HAYDEN'S TEDDY AWAY FROM HER FACE? MAYBE SHE'S NOT ASLEEP, MAYBE SHE'S SMOTHERED BY THE DAMN BEAR THE BOOK (OH GOD, the BOOK!) SAID YOU SHOULD USE TO SETTLE HER TO SLEEP INSTEAD OF YOU. ARE ALL THE LIGHTS OFF? ARE YOU SURE YOU SHUT THE REFRIGERATOR DOOR? YES, I KNOW THERE'S AN ALARM THAT WILL SOUND IF YOU DIDN'T, BUT WHAT IF THE ALARM IS BROKEN AND IT DOESN'T GO OFF AND YOU LEFT THE DOOR OPEN AND EVERYTHING ROTS??? WHAT THEN, HUH? EVERYTHING WILL ROT. NOTHING WILL BE GOOD AGAIN. EVER.

This is the point in time I start cursing myself for forgetting to get my prescription refilled. What prescription, you ask? The one that shuts her up. No, not Hayden "her". The one doing all the yelling in my head, "her". The one that decides 11:53 pm is a good time to ask me HEY, DID YOU REMEMBER TO TELL LAUREN THE COLOR OF THE SALES CABINET FOR THE NACS SHOW? DID YOU REMEMBER TO ORDER THE SALES CABINET AT ALL? WHAT ABOUT PEG HOOKS? YOU HAVEN'T EVEN MENTIONED PEG HOOKS TO HER. ARE YOU USING THE OLD KIND OR NEW KIND? WHAT LENGTH? HOW MANY? OH! AND WHAT ABOUT...

Seriously. If anyone knows a different way to shut her up, be my guest. These days, thanks to all the wonky hormones and the amazing experience of becoming a mom (honestly, I mean that. It's freaking amazing and totally worth the side of crazy that I did not order), the only way I can tackle her chatty ass to the ground and duct tape her gigantic mouth shut so I can just go to sleep already, for goodness' sake!! is to use my new little pills that knock her unconscious for a few hours, which coincidentally let's me sleep too. Or work, or function like a normal human being. Cuts down on the sore-scratching a bit, anyway, although I swear I'm taking that back up if Hayden doesn't go off her sleep-strike soon.