Some miscellaneous thoughts from this morning

1. This is my 200th blog post.  I feel like it should be something profound, but honestly, I lack the energy.   Whoot!   There you go.  A wee bit o' celebration to kick it off.
2. I'm out of deodorant.  I started to look for an extra, and then I remembered I only buy extras for Chris.  I swear the man eats the stuff.  I have to buy 2-3 at a time.  Almost every other shopping trip.   I have this nagging little fear that one day, wandering around in the depths of our basement, I'm going to unearth his true life's work - a full-sized, shower-fresh sculpture of Henry Ford.  Or something equally disturbing.  One thing I have to give him credit for - if you EVER, EVER smell something the least bit unpleasant in his vicinity, I can GUARANTEE you that it's not him.  Sometimes he puts more on before he comes to bed at night.  I think he does that just for the repellant effect, though.  I can't stand to cuddle with an armpit full of chemically concocted "Morning Fresh" man. Ugh.  It's his way of making sure he's got plenty of room to sleep on his side of the bed without getting crowded out, is my theory.  Anyway, my point of this story was that I need to get some deodorant next time I got to the store.
3. There's no spell check on this new blog editor.  Unless they have sneakily inserted it where only those smart enough (surely) to spell their words correctly would be able to locate it.  Therefore, I can accept no responsibility for misspelled words at this time.  I love you all, but not enough to get out my dictionary and double-check.  You will all have discovered that I am not the perfect speller you have come to know and love, and I will be forever ruined.  Or not.  Moving on...
4. While, at our house, we love and respect the "Baby Einstein" videos for their toddler-entrancing powers, I do have a beef with the new one we got  - "Baby's First Moves".  I usually put these videos on while Hayden is eating her breakfast and I'm scrambling to get ready - this cuts my interruptions down to only about 20 a minute, and I make a little progress here and there between the need for me to hold her newfound treasures - a sock, my shoe, my other shoe, that teeny piece of dirt that was on the floor, bunny bear, a coat hanger, a dirty diaper, a clean diaper, a soggy cheerio she just coughed up, another soggy cheerio, a dirty tissue, the hairbow I just put in her hair, the other hairbow I just put in her hair, her paci, a book (a book I need to read RIGHT NOW), and so on and so forth.  So this new video is great, and gets her moving along with the video - "where's your nose? Touch your nose!", "clap!", "roll over!", "peek-a-boo!","sit up!", "jump!", "KICK!".... Kick?!?!  What the?  What the crap do you expect my child to kick?  While watching a video?  In the house?  In a room with lots of breakable items?  Why? Why? Why would you... why?   Just why?  I could go along with all the other activities - no props required, no real worries of damage or destruction, to the child or their surroundings, and here you freaking Disney nuts go and insert "Kick!" in your little video, showing this exhuberant (see, thanks to Blogger, I have no idea if I spelled that word right! Point proven!) young boy kicking a huge bouncy ball in an EMPTY studio set.  After you've just convinced my child to clap and roll and sit and jump along with you, you tell her to KICK something.  FYI, Disney.   We weren't prepared.  We didn't have a BALL ready.  We weren't adequately prepped for this part of the video.  So you know what my wonderful 16 month old (brilliant kid by the way) decided to do? Improvise!  Lovely! I am so proud that she put two and two together and figured since she couldn't kick  a ball she'd have to find something else.  I just wish it hadn't been her toy keyboard.  Or anything, for that matter.  We already struggle with the 'dropping/throwing things for fun' game, and now, with your encouragement, we've learned a new variation - the kicking the crap out of things for fun game. :) Joy.
5. Do I need a 5th thought this morning?  I feel as if I've been sufficiently witty, sarcastic and bitter to get me through the whole day.  Maybe I can end on a sweeter note.  Actually, I do have a good thought to end on.  When Hayden and I got to school, I got her out of her seat and was preparing to set her down to walk her in (she walks into school now! On her own two little legs! It kills me a little everytime.  Too FAST, she's growing up too fast!), she decided it was a good moment for a hug.  So she leaned in and wrapped her tiny arms around my shoulders, rested her head on my chest, just right where I could bury my face in her sweet hair and take in her perfect smell. She was in no hurry to dash off my lap and run in, so I just sat, as long as she was willing, and held her close and soaked in the precious moment.  I try to do that - take the time, when she decides it's time - to hold her close and love her and enjoy her, because I know that all too soon, those moments will become fewer and farther between and I'll wish for them in earnest.  So there we sat in the parking lot, hugging one another and resting our heads together, enjoying that tender moment.   And then, before I knew it, we were off again!

One of these things is not like the other

This weekend, Chris and I discovered one of the first major opinions Hayden has made that differs very much from our own.  One of her first forays into becoming her own little individual self.

She LOVES the beach.

It's not so much that I mind the beach is that, 1) I am not very fond of swimming or playing in waters where there are a) animals abiding, and b) waters I cannot see into, and 2) I cannot stand the never-ending presence of the sand in my clothes, hair, fingernails, cracks and crevices, not to mention car, purse, nose, did I mention fingernails and crevices? once you I have been to the beach.  These two things keep me from enjoying most trips to the seaside, although I am fond of the Carribean for its amazing clear blue water, and I do enjoy laying out in the sun a bit, with a chair and a little shade to retreat to every once in awhile.

Chris, on the other hand, has little use for the beach at all.  He shares my sentiments about the sand, although probably not to the OCD degree that I do, and he's not much for swimming or playing in the water, just because that's not his thing.

So between us, we've spent probably no more than 3 or 4 hours at any beaches, total, since we've been married.  Just not our gig.  But we do enjoy taking the occasional walk in the sand, walking to the ocean's edge, maybe even dipping a toe or two in the water, and looking for seashells.  That was our objective when we stopped by the public strand in Fernandina last weekend, but we were amazed with an entirely unexpected discovery:  Hayden was in her element.

She loved the sand, picking it up and letting it run through her fingers.  Flinging small handfuls at nothing in particular.  Digging up shells from the soggy grains and carrying them with her like small treasures.

The water was a huge fascination as well.  We couldn't let her go or stand her up by herself because she would break and run for the waves the second we did. 

She was so eager to go pell-mell into the water.  Chris held her right at the water's edge, and they would watch the waves come lapping up the edge of the beach, spilling closer and closer... until... at the last moment possible, Chris would lift her above the swell and dash backwards, keeping (mostly) just out of the ocean's reach.  This game delighted Hayden to no end, and I think had we let her, would have entertained her for the better part of the afternoon.

I think I may have just discovered my first reason to really love going to the beach, and Chris and I agreed that we need to plan a trip to the beach this year, to let Hayden continue her explorations, and once the weather warms, get her first dip into the salty spray to see if she likes it as much as she thinks she will.  In the meantime, we have a fistful of shells and some amazing memories of this wonderful day to tide us over (pun intended).

PS - Thanks to Carrie and Joel for most of the great photos here!

Head, Shoulders ...

If you can finish that sentance, you probably have a young child at home. Or you were once a young child. Or you, as an adult, have a strange obsession with children's songs for no apparent reason.

Myself, I have a year old daughter who delights in her many toys that sing/play/dance to this little ditty. Therefore, for the last, oh I don't know... 2 or 3 WEEKS I have had this song on a continuous loop in my head.

As I'm in the shower, "Head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes! Head, ..."
Getting Hayden dressed for school, "...shoulders, knees and toes, knees and..."
Driving to work, "...toes! Eyes and ears and...."
Sitting in meetings, "....mouth and nose! Head, shoulders, knees..."
Writing this post, "...and toes! (from the top now) Head, shoulders,..."
Going to bed, "...knees and toes! Head, shoulders, knees and toes! Eyes and ears and..."

For the love of all that's holy! I think I am slowly going crazy here! Hey, that's something different...

"I am slowly going crazy, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, SWITCH! 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 crazy going slowly am I! I am slowly going crazy, 1, 2, 3..."

AAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!

Thankfully, I only have a good 6 or 7 more years or so of this to look forward to until we hit the obsessions with the chipmunk-voiced prepubescent boy bands. Oh, joy!

"Little Miss Perfect"

Spending the last two days rotting in a hotel room fighting a viscious stomach flu has reaffirmed my decision to forgo spending a small fortune on television. There is so little worthwhile to watch, but sitting in this cramped room staring at the walls with only the sound of my piteous moaning was not a fun option.

One show that I came across totally and absolutely freaked me out. Called "Little Miss Perfect", it documents self-described beauty queens and their journey to win the crown, or at least their attempt. These beauty queens aren't teens or young adults, though, they're barely walking and talking toddlers and young girls. I'm not trying to start a war on this subject; I know there are people firmly rooted on both sides. That said, holy crap that show freaked me out!

I think my daughter is Little Miss Perfect, but I hope to all that's holy I never feel the need to give her a spray tan, false teeth, hooker-worthy makeup, and dragster-quality wigs, and combine that with a mini-Britney style outfit and let her 'shake her thing' in front of a crowd of adults and let them judge her against a lineup of her similarly freaked-out peers in order to prove that to me or to her. There was no part of that show or those families that didn't disturb me, especially the mom that kept explaining that her daughter just "wasn't competitive enough", and was "apparently okay with being average" since she wasn't dedicated to her rehearsals. I just cringed watching those little babies cry when they didn't want their hair teased, or their ribs squeezed by their dresses, or when they find out that they're not "Little Miss Perfect." I cringed even more watching the more pageant-saavy ones throw winks to the judges and performing dance moves that should come with parental warnings for a man touted as a "premier" pageant judge, who skeeves me out just watching him stare at these innocent dears. The gay director, who loved the sound of his own voice enough to write a song that he feels the need to sing at each and every pageant, was the piece de resistance. Watching him tell the girls to "own it" was more than I could bear.

I admit it. It is absolutely beyond me why any parent would do that to their child, except those that are trying to live vicariously through their genetically gifted offspring. I hear them say that the pageants give their girls "confidence", but I see a troup of girls learning to present themselves for judgement based on how they look, how they dress and how they stack up next to their friends. One parent explained that it's a fact that "better looking, more attractive people do better in life, make more money and go farther than those who aren't". Tell me this thing isn't a beauty contest, flat out.

I hope to God that my sweet, happy, stunningly beautiful, amazingly intelligent little girl never feels the need to compare herself to anyone else to know that, in my eyes,in her daddy's eyes, in God's eyes, and anyone else who matters, she will always be perfect.

For now, I'm going to go back to bed and writhe awhile and see if there is anything else nearly as pointless on the tube.

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!

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...