Darth Vader, mystery scars, and Halloween Past

There is this one guy I work with who always gets really into Halloween. I don't know him all that well, since he works in another department, but it's a well-known fact around here that he will show up to work on Halloween in a fantastic costume. He is also a really tall guy, so no matter what he dresses up as, it always looks impressive.

I was walking into work this morning, walking down the hallway, when the elevator at the other end of the hallway opened, and out stepped Darth Vader, complete with the spooky breathing sounds.

It was such a realistic costume, that for a split second, I actually felt a smidge nervous. I forced what I hoped was a casual smile as he approached me, and in reply, he uttered a chipper (but muffled), "Good morning."

Seriously, if you could see him, you would fully understand my momentary intimidation.

. . . . .

I am missing a smallish but noticeable chunk of skin from my right forearm. It looks like I scraped it against something, though it's not quite a scab yet. The bad thing is, I have no earthly idea how or when I did it. You would think that something that hurts this much would spark a memory, but you would be wrong. This is merely the latest in a long line of various bodily injuries that I have no recollection of. (Or, as I like to say, further proof that full senility is not as far away as I may have hoped.)

Speaking of these types of injuries, I had one on this same forearm (other side) several months ago. Except this one resembled a rug burn. Again, I had no idea how it happened, but it scabbed up and went away, leaving in its place a scar. Yes, a scar. It wasn't even a cut--it barely scratched the surface of the skin, and didn't bleed at all. And yet, I have a scar. It's the kind of scar that probably no one but me would notice, but I know it's there, and it bugs me. I bears an eeries resemblance to a scar on my other forearm that resulted from my arm making contact with a hot, greasy fry basket when I worked at McDonald's lo, these many years ago. You expect a scar from an injury like that. You don't expect a scar from a rug burn.

Actually, I just checked, and Ye Olde McDonald's scar seems to have faded into oblivion. Which makes Ye New Rug Burn Scar that much more insulting.

Getting old sucks.

. . . . .

Let's take a walk down Memory Lane, shall we?

This was Ari on Halloween last year...



The reason she's sitting all crazy is because she was only just learning to sit up alone--she actually toppled onto her side right after this picture was taken. She just rode in the stroller last year while we accompanied some friends, and if I remember right, she even fell asleep.

But this year, she'll be walking all by herself (well, she'll be holding someone's hand--reluctantly, I'm sure), going up to doors, collecting candy, and probably doing her I'm-shy-but-wait-I'm-really-not act with all the strangers she meets.

Tomorrow, there will be pictures. You have been warned.

They might be windmills

Between trips to carry things in from my car yesterday, I grabbed the mail from the mailbox. The first piece of mail that caught my eye was the bill from children's hospital we took Ari to when we got her stitch. Holding my breath, I opened it and of course, my eyes immediately found the grand total--over $600. Wincing, I scrolled down, trying to find out how much we had to pay. When I saw $50, I released the breath I'd been holding, and then shared the news with Tony. (Well, of course, I scared him with the $600+ number before letting him know we only had to pay $50.) I looked at the itemized list, and called out to Tony, "Here's how it breaks down--it says 'med-surg supply' was $91.67. I guess that's... uh... the stitch."

"And the giant wad of gauze. Don't forget the giant wad of gauze."

"Of course. And the numbing cream."

I can't even imagine what the bill might have been like if she had had a really serious injury.

Also included in yesterday's mail was a summons for jury duty for me. Holding on to the hope that I might be able to opt out, I rummaged through our filing cabinet to find out the last time I served. (Which involved me sitting around all day, being in the very last group of people called before the judge, and then getting dismissed. And accidentally leaving behind my copy of The Princess Bride in the process.) If you've served within the past 3 years, you can get out of jury duty, but alas, I found out that I last served on July 24, 2004--just over 3 years ago. Which I'm sure they knew. But I'm going to opt to postpone my appearance, since the date they want me to show up is December 20. First of all, I'm taking the entire next week off of work, what with the Christmas holidays and my siblings' visits, so it would seem unfair to miss another whole day of work so close to that. And second, there's no way I'm letting myself get picked for the jury and then missing out on all my sibling-bonding time because I have to be in court. No way.

Speaking of my siblings, it's less than 2 months until I get to see them all again! Dave and Jess will be here for Thanksgiving, but since we'll be with Tony's family, I'm pretty sure we're going to miss seeing them then. So that's just one more reason to look forward to Christmas.

And speaking of Christmas, I'm proud of how much shopping we've already completed. We're all set for all the kids in our lives--nieces, nephews, and friends' kids. Plus we've gotten a few other people out of the way. and I just ordered some other people's gifts online (don't you love how vague I'm being?). The problem is, we need to finish up shopping for Tony's family soon, since we're bringing all their gifts down with us at Thanksgiving. I keep thinking I have plenty of time, but then I remember that it will be November in 2 days. TWO days, people. Where did October go?

And lastly, for your entertainment (well, really for mine), here's a video. Yeah, don't ask me what the video is supposed to mean--I just love the song. Guaranteed to be stuck in your head for days. (Big shout-out to "Pushing Daisies" and the TWoP message boards for introducing me to this little gem.) Ladies and gentlemen... "Birdhouse in Your Soul" by They Might Be Giants.

Preview

We went to my parents' house on Sunday night, where Ari got her Halloween gift bag and posed in her costume for them.

What... you want to see her in her costume?

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OK, here you go...



Sorry, that will just have to hold you over until after Halloween.

A tale of 2 hugs

When I came home from work the other day, Tony met me in the living room and greeted me with a hug. We stood there hugging for a moment, until we both felt tiny hands grasping our legs. We looked down, and there stood Ari, one hand on my leg and one on Tony's, looking up at us and making this slightly irritated "eh eh eh" sound. Laughing, I scooped her up. "What--you feel left out?" I teased. I held her close, and Tony wrapped his arms around both of us. She laid her head on my shoulder first, then on Tony's... and then sat up and just smiled coyly at us, as though she knew how cute she was being.

. . . . .

Tonight, Ari and I made a quick trip to Target to pick up some necessities, and when we returned home, I went to her door to get her out of the car. She grinned at me and kicked her legs energetically--obviously, the 3-hour nap she had this afternoon had left her in a fantastic mood. I smiled back at her, talking goofy-Mommy-talk to her while I unbuckled her.

As I lifted her out of the car and onto my hip, she hugged me. And I'm not saying, "Oh, she laid her head on my shoulder"--I'm saying that she laid her head on my shoulder, grabbed my arms with her tiny hands, and squeezed (yes, squeezed) me, clinging to me for a few moments as though I was the dearest thing in the world to her. I just stood there, hugging her back, speechless.

When she lifted her head, I found my voice and started babbling about what a sweet girl she was. She responded with another hug--a bit shorter, but just as genuine.

Though she's hugged me before, it's usually with prompting, and for a reason, such as right before she goes to bed for the night. And not that's there anything wrong with those kinds of hugs. But this was the first time she's hugged me--truly hugged me--just because.

It was one of those precious mother-daughter moments that I will tuck away inside my heart, and try to remember forever. (And of course, blogging about it doesn't hurt either.)

A productive day

A few of my co-workers are devoted Red Sox fans. While I, in all honesty, could really care less about baseball. But because of their undying affection for the Boston team, I like to mess with their heads, telling them how much I love the Yankees, etc. It's all in good fun, of course, under the guise of a bitter rivalry.

Lest you think I am exagerrating their fandom, let me just tell you that they spend a lot of time making posters and other various signs to decorate our office space with, declaring their love for all things Red Sox. The way our department is, we have 2 big interior windows that are visible in the hallway--and that's where the decorations go, where they can be viewed by anyone who passes.

This morning, I arrived before everyone else, and made a contribution of my own. On a small piece of paper, I wrote "GO ROCKIES!" in purple marker, dotting the "I" with a little baseball. I taped it into the window, underneath the giant Red Sox poster, and waited. Waited in particular for N, the maker of all the signs and decorations, to come and see how I had desecrated her window.

A couple people arrived before her, and people from other departments wandered in, wondering out loud what N would think of the new sign. And when she arrived, she quietly got her revenge. She added the word "AWAY" so that now the sign reads, "GO AWAY ROCKIES!"

We then had the following e-mail exchange...

Me: so how did you like the new addition to the formerly-red-sox-only window?

N: was that YOU?!

Me: i never said that...

N: it was YOU!

Me: i never said that either...

N: YOU YOU YOU

Me: you have no proof...

N: hm. we'll see about that.

Me: ha--is that supposed to SCARE me?

N: i am a cool, calm and collected investigator in search of Truth. if that doesn't scare you, that's fine.

Several hours later, she declined to join the rest of us for our afternoon walk (as usual), and when I returned, my purple pen had been redecorated--it was adorned with a festive ribbon which held a Post-It note (with a cleverly-cut diamond-shaped hole in it), with the words "Exhibit A" written in bold, black marker.

I waved the pen in her face. "You know where I got this pen? HERE. Which means anyone could have this pen."

She merely smiled a semi-evil smile at me, and walked away.

(As you can see, it's been a productive day.)

A little birdhouse in your soul

Last night was another new episode of Pushing Daisies, and I seriously don't think I could love this show more. (And next week, I'll be saying the same thing.) If you're not watching it, you need to be. Go online and check out the pilot (I think ABC has full episodes on their site).

I mean, seriously, look at this picture of the cast. Look how bright and fun and happy and colorful.... Who couldn't use a little more whimsy in their lives?



OK, moving on...

I was getting ready to put Ari to bed last night, and did the same thing I always do right before I put her in her crib--I held her close and sang to her. Usually when we do this, as soon as I say to her, "Are you ready?" she'll lay her head on my shoulder and wait for me to start singing. She did that last night, but then about halfway through the song, she suddenly sat up and pointed at her crib. (I'm sure if the pacifier hadn't been in her mouth, she would have been talking/whining.) I followed her gaze and saw that she was staring at her Belle doll, which was waiting for her inside the crib. I picked Belle up, gave her to Ari, and Ari laid her head back on my shoulder, cuddling Belle. She is really getting attached to that doll. And I know I've been joking about "brainwashing" her to like Belle, but honestly, I haven't really tried to force the doll on her--she's taken a liking to it all on her own. It's not to the point where she has to have it all the time, but if she sees Belle, she wants her.

I finally got around to getting some videos of some of the cute things Ari's been doing lately. So without further ado...

OK, first we have her brushing her hair (with Tony's brush). For some reason, she held really still and stared at the camera for a moment, so I actually got a nice close-up shot of her. But that only lasted a few seconds--for some reason, she turned her back to me, and then walked away. And despite my attempts to get her to come back to me, she was far more interested in what the dogs were doing on the other side of the gate.



She is able to pick things up off the floor now without having to sit down to do it--she can just bend over and pick them up. Here you'll also see her hugging Belle.



In this one, you can hear her say "bye" and see the little wave she does along with it. I swear, she says "bye" with a Southern accent or something. You'll also see her brush her hair (again) and point to her belly (kind of).



New episode of "The Office" tonight!

And I'm done.

Dream home

You probably don't remember, but a while ago, I wrote about how we were trying to get into a co-op housing development nearby. Well, we're one step closer to living there. We've passed the pre-approval step--which is the financial approval from the bank. Apparently, that can be the toughest step, and according to what they told us, we passed with "flying colors." The next step is the interview process. First, they interview us up there--we'll get to see the unit, they can meet all of us and we can meet whatever residents feel like showing up. Then the second interview will be at our place. I guess they just want to make sure we're not total slobs or freaks or something. Then after that, the committee votes, and as long as that goes well, we're in. So please please pretty-please-with-sugar-on-top pray that this works out for us.

Here are the main reasons this move would be so awesome...

1. Though it's only a 2-bedroom apartment (same as our current one), it has a one-car garage and a finished basement. In a word... STORAGE. Which means Ari could have a room all to herself, instead of sharing her room with extra bookcases, a computer desk, and various boxes and piles of junk.

2. It has washer/dryer hookups, which means we can finally get our own washer and dryer. Sure, we'll have to put up with the laundromat for a little while so we can save up money, but the thought of being able to do laundry in my own home is pretty exciting.

3. It would be a little bit closer to work. I'd still have a long commute, but I might be able to shave about 10 minutes off of it.

4. Most of the people in our church live in this town. And since Tony is the youth pastor at the church and we are both heavily involved with the church, it will be nice to be closer to everyone. Plus, we can have teen meetings at our place, instead of always having to have them at someone else's home.

5. It's in a nice neighborhood, on a cul-de-sac, which means it will be a great place for Ari to play, to learn to ride a bike... all that great childhood stuff.

6. The monthly rent would be less than half of what we're paying now. Yes, I said less than half. Which is obviously the biggest and best reason to move there.

I'm not thrilled at the thought of the actual moving process--all the packing and unpacking and cleaning--but then again, who ever is? I was telling Tony the other day that it feels like we've been in this apartment forever. Really, it's only been 5 years, but considering that in our first 4 years of marriage we lived in 4 different places, staying put for 5 years seems like a lot.

So while you're at it with the praying, here's another thing you can pray about. In order to get in, we have to make a $3500 deposit. Well, I'm not sure if "deposit" is the right word, but you know what I mean. Basically, it's like equity--it goes into a community fund and collects interest. Then, someday in the future, when we move out, we get it all back, plus interest. Right now, we have about $1000 saved up. So I have no idea where that other $2500 is going to come from, but I have faith that it will come. (But if you wouldn't mind keeping that in your prayers also, that would be much appreciated.)

I'm off to bed, to dream of my soon-to-be dream home.

Procrastination and baby talk

Sometimes, procrastination pays off...

So it's been at least 3 weeks now that my car stereo has not been working. I've been meaning to get around to replacing it, but other things have taken priority. But today, about halfway through my commute, it magically came on. I immediately called Tony to tell him the good news. He had had someone look at it for me about a week ago, and that guy declared that it was dead--but now Tony is thinking that all he did was check the fuses. Obviously, the radio does indeed work, so there's something fishy with the wiring or something. As soon as I got off the phone with Tony, I popped in my Wicked CD and got my Wicked fix.

A babyless night

My brother Pete stayed overnight with us on Saturday night, so when I took him home on Sunday night, I brought Ari with me and left her there. Mom watches Ari on Mondays anyway, and it made more sense to drop Ari off on Sunday night, since I was going there anyway, than for both of us to get up early on Monday morning. It was weird going home and being able to make as much noise as I wanted to upstairs--I worked out with the TV volume up as loud as I wanted (Tony and Wayne were downstairs watching the Red Sox/Indians game) and the door open, and when Tony and I were getting ready for bed, I was able to holler to him from the bathroom when he was in the bedroom and vice versa. I know I just spent an entire paragraph talking about how thrilling it was to make noise in my own house... and I realize how sad that is.

Speaking of the baby...

Ari has always been comfortable with strangers, people in church, etc. But lately, she's been getting even more relaxed around people she doesn't know all that well. At church yesterday, she kept picking different people to follow around while we were all cleaning up afterward--and when the person turned and noticed her, she would reach up, asking to be held. It really was the cutest thing--she was just making all sorts of new friends. We spent the afternoon hanging out at Pastor and Dawn's house, with Brandon and Kerry and their kids, too, and Ari spent as much time cuddling and playing with Dawn and Kerry as she did with me or Tony.

Also, I think--I THINK--I saw her stand up on her own yesterday, without clinging to anything. I saw it out of the corner of my eye, and did a double-take, saying, "Wait, did she just stand up on her own?" And of course, she never did it again the rest of the day. I think she really can do it--it's just a matter of having the confidence. She does this goofy thing where she'll plant her palms on the floor, burrow her head into the carpet, and lift her butt up in the air, so that she's just on her tiptoes--it looks as though she's trying to stand alone, but can't quite get that final step of the process figured out. Any day now, she'll have it down.

Pretty much a perfect day *EDIT*

********* EDIT: **********

We went to the mall last night, and got dinner in the food court. There's a huge carousel in the food court, so I thought it would be fun to take Ari on it, thinking that my little daredevil would love it. When I went to put her on the horse, she tried to clamp her legs together to keep me from doing it, clinging to me with a whimper. I helped her put her hands on the pole, and that seemed to relax her a little. I strapped the belt around her waist and kept my arm around her. I thought she would relax once the ride started and the horse started going up and down, but it only seemed to make it worse. Tony was on the sidelines calling out her name every time we went by, and it always took her a little too long to find him--by the time she turned her head, he'd be out of sight. That seemed to add to her discomfort too--as though it was unnerving her to be able to hear her Daddy, but not see him. She wasn't fully freaking out--just whimpering and looking a little distressed. Finally, I ended up unstrapping her and holding her for the last part of the ride, which seemed to settle her down. It was just the funniest thing--we took her to Six Flags and she loved all the rides, yet decided to be scared of one little carousel. Funny kid...

********* END EDIT **********


Today was a gorgeously unseasonable day--the weather made it feel more like an early summer day than an autumn day. Not that I'm complaining. We slept in a little this morning, and when Ari woke up, I brought her to our bed to drink her bottle. When she was done, she handed it to me, sat up, and then immediately began bouncing up and down. Tony has a little routine he has with her on the days he has her at home--he brings her to bed to drink her bottle and then turns the TV to a music channel for her to dance to. So, apparently, she was more than ready to get her groove on. When Tony turned on the TV, she pulled out all her best moves--bouncing on her bottom, standing up and high-stepping, and clapping her hands. She even added a new move--sitting down and then flopping dramatically onto her back.

Later in the day, we headed out to do a few errands. We were on the hunt for a winter coat for her, and finally settled on one at Wal-Mart.



It's pink and navy blue (even though I think the one in this pic has black in it). It's a 4-in-1 jacket.... meaning that there's an inner reversible part, so you can wear the outer part alone, the inner part alone (2 ways), or both pieces together. So I think it will definitely suit every occasion this winter. It's a bit big on her--Tony was joking that we won't need to buy her mittens because her hands barely poke out of the sleeves.

We picked up my brother Pete while we were out, and brought him home with us--Tony, Pete, Wayne, and Greg are doing a guys' night tonight, playing (what else?) video games.

Before we left today, I had to grab the camera and get a few pictures of Ari, simply because I loved her outfit. The problem was, she didn't want to hold still for a picture. Tony tried holding her...



... but as you can see, she wasn't a big fan of that. I made a few other attempts, but they all came out blurry. Finally, the TV captivated her for a moment. (I know it looks like she's posing, but I promise this is a candid shot.)



I mean, seriously, is there anything cuter than a kid in overalls? And not only are they overalls, they're Precious Moments overalls.

Another reason she wouldn't hold still was because she was practicing her latest trick. She's learned that her toys can function as steps.



(Tony sent a picture to my cell phone yesterday that showed her fully standing up on that table. She also showed us today that she can climb off our bed by herself. We are in so much trouble.)

Finally, I decided I would try holding her myself, which of course didn't work. (I look retarded, but I love her expression--it's like righteous indignation.)



But Tony did manage to get this picture--my favorite.



Today was pretty much a perfect day.

15-month appointment

Today was Ari's 15-month appointment. Tony ended up staying home since he wasn't feeling well, so it was just us girls headed for the doctor's office. I think the last time I took her to an appointment alone was back in January, because Tony was down visiting his mom. It felt a little weird to be going alone. I made sure to grab her pacifier and her Belle doll (which she is getting quickly attached to) before heading out the door.

First order of business, as always, was weight and height. So here are the stats: she weighs 23 lbs. 10 oz. and is 33" long. And, as last time, those numbers put her in the 50th percentile for weight and over the 100th percentile for height. My little supermodel baby.

I kept her entertained while we waited for the doctor--she was intent on playing with (and ripping) the crinkly paper on the table, while I tried my best to distract her. At one point, I poked her belly and asked, "Where's your belly?" She started glancing around until she finally glimpsed her Belle doll lying behind her and reached for it. I can see how that would be confusing.

The appointment was good and bad. Bad because Ari flipped out every time she had to hold still, but good because she's healthy, growing well, and doing what she's supposed to be be doing. I think the thing I like best about these appointments is being reassured that she's "normal."

"I'm sorry she's squirming so much--she's like that every time I change her diaper or try to get her dressed."

"That's normal."

"She says 'bye' and even waves, but she won't do it until the person is actually, physically leaving, or already gone."

"That's normal."

"There have been a couple days where she's slept in until 10 or 10:30 in the morning."

"That's normal."

"She's a picky eater. I feel like all she ever eats is carbs."

"That's normal."

Not that I was necessarily worried about all these things. Or maybe I was. Maybe I pictured the doctor shaking her head at me and chastising me for not force-feeding Ari vegetables, or waking Ari up at the same time every morning, or still letting her drink from a bottle. It's good to know that as odd as I may think her behaviors are, for the most part, they are normal.

She was thrilled with the thing the doctor used to look in her eyes--she wanted to hold it, and she even "cuddled" it a little. She didn't mind him putting the stethoscope on her leg, but when he tried to put it on her back, she swatted him away. Then when I had to restrain her arms and head so they could check her ears and mouth, she lost it--she writhed, screamed, and generally acted like we were killing her. One good thing that came out of all her struggling was that both the doctor and the physician's assistant commented on how strong she was. Sometimes I think she's freakishly strong for her age.

The shots came at the end, and of course, she cried, but I think half the reason she was upset at that point was because she was already all worked up from fighting the regular exam. She calmed down quickly, and was in a great mood by the time we left.

I took her home, gave Tony the 411 on how the appointment went, and got ready to head off to work. As I left, Ari was in her highchair eating breakfast. I said bye to her in my usual fashion--waving and exaggerating the word "bye", saying it over and over in an attempt to get her to say it back. In reply, she just stared at me.

I walked out the door, closed it behind me, and as soon as the door clicked, I heard her say, "Bye." I pushed the door back open, stuck my head in and called, "I totally heard that!"

Laughing, Tony replied, "She was waving, too!"

Little goober.

Autumn traditions

Yesterday, in partial fulfillment of our duties as parents, we took Ari to a local pumpkin patch to observe the autumn traditions of picking your own pumpkin, taking a hayride, and drinking warm apple cider. We met Matt, Kristin and Nick there.

Of course, our first order of business was to plop her in a pile of pumpkins for some pictures.



(Do you love her hoodie as much as I do? It was $4.99 on the clearance rack at The Children's Place.)

And then, a family picture. This was actually Kristin's idea--somehow I'm always so busy getting shots of Ari that I never think to get shots of all 3 of us.



Then we had to get some pictures of Ari and Nick together. Since Matt and Kristin had gotten there before us, Nick had already played in the hay. Ari was a bit more wary. It's like she's thinking, Hey, what are you doing, playing with this weird stuff?



Hmm, OK, this stuff is kind of fun. Look, Mom, I've got hair!



Woo hoo!



Need more hay...



Behold, I have hay! Now, what to do with it...?



I know--I'll stuff it in Nick's hood...



What? No, I did NOT put that hay in Nick's hood...



Of course, picking out a pumpkin was a very careful process. She needed to inspect it carefully...



Mom, there are just too many choices!



The final test was, apparently, a taste test.



All in all, she had a good time. She spent the whole hayride standing on the bale of hay, peeking over the rail to watch the world go by. When we got out at the pumpkin patch, she just wandered all over the place, not caring about the pumpkins. When the hayride was over, we went into the cornstalk maze and then played in the kiddie area. After a couple hours, both she and Nick had had enough. She took a good, long nap when we got home.

But not until she had greeted the dogs.

This won't do *EDIT*

Tony was out at a meeting last night, and I texted him to ask him to pick up some milk on his way home. He called when he was heading home. "OK, I'll get milk. Anything else?"

Without hesitation, I replied, "Ice cream."

He chuckled. "You're funny."

"No, I'm not funny--I'm hormonal."

He called me from the grocery store to ask me what kind I wanted. Again, without hesitation, I answered, "Chocolate."

"Edy's has a Loaded Chocolate Fudge Brownie... chocolate ice cream, fudge swirls, and brownie pieces."

"Ehh--that might be too much chocolate."

"There's also the Loaded Cookies and Cream."

"Oooh, get that--that way you'll eat it too, which will stop me from eating it all myself."

For the record, I only had a very small bowl last night. And I worked out too, so it's all good. Besides, a girl deserves to indulge herself once a month or so.

But seriously, if you've never tried this stuff, you need to. It's unbelievably light and fluffy and there is just the right amount of cookies--A LOT.



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Last night was episode 2 of Pushing Daisies, and I am even more in love with this show than I was last week. Because Kristin Chenoweth? She sang last night. And she sang "Hopelessly Devoted to You." And now I... I am hopelessly devoted to this show.

(Or, as Chuck might say, I want to marry this show and have little half-show, half-human babies with it.)

*****EDITED TO ADD...*****

YouTube is the greatest invention ever.



*****END EDIT*****

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I was playing with Ari last night, and I fished her Belle doll out of the toybox. She eagerly took it from me, and when I said, "Are you going to give Belle a hug?" she squeezed Belle close to her chest. She repeated that several more times, even tilting her head as she did it. I asked her if she could give Belle kisses, and she did that typical toddler open-mouth kiss. I demonstrated for her, by puckering and then opening my mouth, with an exaggerated "mwah." She looked at me curiously, twitching her lip, as though she was trying to figure out how I did it.

Then I opened up my arms and asked her if she had a hug for me. She took a step toward me, came within inches of my fingertips and then, with a devilish glint in her eyes, she turned abruptly and toddled away, giggling to herself. I would have been offended if she wasn't so darn cute.

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Oh, and the site I was getting all my Jack Handey quotes from? Well, it keeps giving me error messages, and I'm too lazy to use a new site (because typing out this wordy explanation is so much easier), so the Jack Handey QOTD may be on permanent hiatus. Guess I'll have to find some other cutesy gimmick to keep you all coming back.

This means I have to start thinking up my own titles. Hmm. This won't do.

What about a trap window?

So it's back to work, back to the old grind. Not that this week has been bad or anything. But let me just tell you, I needed that long, lazy weekend in such a bad way. It could not have come at a better time.

I don't have much news, so instead, I'll do another Ari update. Let's see... where to begin? I've already told you all that she does the sign for "more." She is quite good at it, though I doubt she fully understands what it means. I think she interprets it as "eat" or "food" because as soon as you sit her in her highchair, she will start doing it. Or if you ask her if she's hungry or wants to eat (she definitely understands those words), she will reply by signing "more." So basically, she never does it without some sort of prompting, whether it's us actually asking her if she wants more, or just us putting her in her highchair.

We got home from the mall on Saturday night, and Tony was carrying Ari. He paused near the kitchen table (which is always a huge pile of clutter), and suddenly Ari started signing "more." He got my attention, and then looked puzzled. "Why is she signing more?" he wondered out loud. He followed her gaze and noticed that she was staring intently at a graham cracker on the table. He handed it to her and she happily wolfed it down (I think she would live on nothing but graham crackers and yogurt if we'd let her). That was the first time she ever signed "more" without any signals or encouragement from us.

The next day, Tony was munching on an Oreo Cakester ...



...and he offered Ari a bite. She took it a bit hesitantly, but as soon as the taste hit her tongue, she frantically signed "more" and then got a little miffed when she realized that Daddy had inhaled the last bite. Guess this kid has my weakness for chocolate already.

She is also entering the Climbing Phase (also known as the Give Mom a Heart Attack Phase). She can climb up on the couch, and once she's up there, she likes to hang over the back of it, using the pillows as steps to boost herself even higher. So far, she hasn't had any bad falls, but I'm just waiting for it. Tony said the other day, she climbed up over the back of the couch and into her highchair (which we keep against the back of the couch when we're not using it). I guess we need to find another place to keep her highchair. She can also climb down off the couch sometimes, too, and according to Tony, can even get down off our bed. I'm dreading the day when she learns to climb out of her crib.

She is still fascinated with the dog food bowls, but has yet to eat any (that we've seen). Now, she likes to sit on the floor, reach into the bowl, and grab just one piece of dog food. What she plans to do with it, I have no idea, because usually one or both of us is telling her to put it back at that point. But the amazing thing? She does put it back, even if it takes us repeating it a couple times.

She still babbles non-stop (even with a mouthful of food), but I can definitely sense some changes in the way she talks. She now begins a lot of her conversations with me by saying, "Mom." Just like that--no exclamation point, just a simple "Mom" to get my attention. Sometimes she'll repeat it a couple times (even if she already has my attention) and then when she's ready to begin, she'll look me in the eye, pause for effect, and then talk. She uses so much more inflection now, and she even pauses now for my replies and gets all excited when I respond enthusiastically.

At church on Sunday, Mary (who was working in the nursery that day) told me Ari spent a good 20 minutes playing with one toy--a shape sorter that looks like this (a classic... I think I had the same one when I was little)...



She said that Ari couldn't quite figure out how to match up the shapes with the proper holes, but if you showed her how to do it, she would insert the shape, and then reach for the next one. She is finally getting the concept of putting objects inside a container. She's totally got the hang of taking things out of a container, but this was the first time I've seen her put things in. When we were at Matt and Kristin's house later that afternoon, she and Nick were playing with Mega Blocks--Nick kept dumping the container over so that they would all spill out, and Ari kept putting them back in. He would grab pieces and throw them across the room, and she would pick them up--not just throwing them back in the container, but gently placing them inside. She can be so dainty sometimes.

I was playing with her on Monday, with her alphabet blocks (they're Fisher Price Peek-a-Blocks--little plastic blocks with little figures inside of them to ilustrate the letter on the outside. So cute.) I like to pull them out when I play with her, because I have just as much fun stacking them as she does destroying my stacks... which is exactly how we've always played. As soon as I get a stack just two high, she'll come on over and go all Godzilla on it, obliterating my carefully made towers. But on Monday, with little prompting from me (since I was waiting for her to knock it all down), she picked up a block, and placed it on top of another one. And later, with Tony, she stacked the blocks three high. It's so much fun to watch her finally getting these concepts--that she can build as well as destroy, and that she can put things away as well as dump them all over the floor.

Our teeth brushing routine hit a little snag the other night--as in, she refused my help, and when I persisted, she lost all inerest in the toothbrush. Usually, I hand it to her first, and she'll nibble on the bristles with her front teeth--I let her do that for a bit, then I grab her hand and help her brush her teeth. But she was having none of that the other night, and after struggling with her for a few moments, I finally laid her down on my lap (not as easy task, since she is so long now), thinking that would give me a better angle on her. I forced the toothbrush into her mouth as she wailed in resistance (as much as she could while trying to keep her mouth clamped shut). But once I got the toothbrush in and started moving it around, her wailing turned into giggles. And those giggles gave way to wide-open-mouth laughter, which enabled me to get at her molars. We went through the same ritual last night--her resisting and grumping at me, me laying her down, and her giggling as I brushed. I'm sure we look ridiculous--a big old toddler on my tiny lap, snickering as I brush her teeth as quickly as I can--but hey, whatever works right now. At least her teeth are getting brushed.

Hmm, who knew I had so much to say about her? Shocking, huh? I will leave you with this...

Jack Handey QOTD:

Instead of a trap door, what about a trap window? The guy looks out it, and if he leans too far, he falls out. Wait. I guess that's like a regular window.

Just pictures and videos, mostly

I don't have a whole lot to say--our weekend so far has been gloriously uneventful, which is everything I dreamed it would be, and more. We slept in on Saturday (thanks to Ari, who also slept until about 9). Tony got up with Ari and let me sleep until about 10, which I needed so much. We spent the rest of the day being lazy before we decided to venture out to the mall, to walk around and let Ari play in the play area.

Today was church, as always, and then we spent the afternoon with Matt, Kristin and Nick. Ari was introduced to Nick's sandbox, and her first reaction was to freak out. But once she got over that, she actually had a good time. We had fun comparing the difference in the way the 2 kids played--Ari stayed in one spot, playing delicately and carefully with the sand, while Nick was all over the place and at one point managed to dump a half a bucket of sand in his own face (while, of course, his mouth was open).

Ari getting used to the sand...



Daring to play with the toys in the sandbox...



Getting the 2 of them to look at the same camera at the same time is nearly impossible...



Starting to get a little bored with the sandbox...



The cure for boredom--eating your sandy foot. (Say it with me now... "Eww!")



A little miffed that we told her that eating her sandy foot was gross...



And a couple videos from the past week or so. In this first one, I was feeding her dinner, and she started playing peekaboo with me on her own, umprompted by me. Of course, by the time I got the camera set up, she was losing interest, so you'll hear me prompting her in this video, but I swear, she started it. Also, you can hear her saying her newest word--"bye-bye." She has this whole thing where she says it with this almost-Southern accent, while waving her hand like a little Southern belle. That's not quite the way she's doing it here, but it's still pretty cute. I'll have to get a video of her saying bye-bye later.



And this video was taken Saturday morning--we all lounged in bed for a while after we all woke up, and when Tony put a music channel on the TV, Ari decided to get down with her bad self. This video is kind of long, but trust me--the longer you watch, the cuter she gets. Who knew she had all these dance moves just waiting to bust out?



And that is all. Our plans for tomorrow? Zip, zilch, nada. Sounds like a perfect day to me.

I didn't say it was an interesting story

I've been trying to avoid the onslaught of brand-new TV shows that have been flooding the airwaves for the past week or so--not because they all looked terrible, but because I don't have the time to watch yet another TV show. I have too many can't-miss favorites already, like "The Office" and "Heroes," which I often have to DVR and watch later because I simply don't have the time to watch them when they air.

I found myself sucked in to the premiere of "Bionic Woman" last Wednesday, and watched it with mild interest. But when I caught the 2nd episode this week, I nearly laughed out loud at the dialogue--and let's just say, this show is not intended to be a comedy. I was somewhat relieved to find myself hating it--one less show to get emotionally attached to.

But I made the mistake of sitting down in front of the TV earlier on Wednesday night, to the premiere of a little show called "Pushing Daisies." I had read that Kristin Chenoweth was in it, which piqued my interest. (Just because I don't intend to watch these new shows, doesn't mean I don't read up on what they're about, who's starring, and the basic plot.) And I fell for this show, head over heels, before the first commercial break. It's sweet and whimsical, with a dark sense of humor (which I suppose is to be expected from a show whose main character can raise the dead with a single touch, yet send them right back to the grave with a 2nd touch). The scenery has a Tim Burton-esque (a la Big Fish), fairy-tale feel to it, which only adds to the charm of it. I'm not one to go around recommending shows to people, but if there's ever a show I would endorse, it is this. Of course, for all I know, I may end up hating it mid-season, but somehow I doubt that. Its mix of quirkiness, dry wit and "aww" moments are likely to keep my hooked for a long time to come.

And speaking of shows I love, the second episode of the new season of "The Office" was on last night, and I am loving this season so much. This show seriously makes me laugh out loud--it is genius. I'm going to feel deprived when they return to the 30-minute format.

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Tony ran a quick errand the other night to get a couple things from the store, and when he returned, he walked over to me, hands behind his back, and declared, "I wanted to get you something to celebrate your promotion, and I hope you still like these." He then presented me with a box of Little Debbie Nutty Bars.



I practically lived on those things in college but haven't eaten them in (literally) years. The fact that he remembered my favorite treat, coupled with the fact that I was having a slightly bad day, reduced me to tears. I love him so much.

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On to a more sober topic... yesterday was the funeral for Wayne's grandfather/Lorraine's stepfather. He was a veteran who served in World War II, the Korean War, and Vietnam, which earned him a full honor guard at the graveside ceremony. I've never been to a military funeral before, and I was awed and moved by the beautiful tradition.

When we arrived at the cemetery, the honor guard was already there--2 fully-uniformed offficers right beside the grave, and a bugler and 3 gunmen a short distance away (sorry if I'm not using the correct terminology here). As the pallbearers carried the casket to the grave, the gunmen presented their arms while the 2 officers saluted.

Pastor conducted his service, which was the reading of a psalm and a short prayer, and then the gunmen did their salute, firing their rifles into the air. When they finished, the bugler played "Taps," which has to be one of the saddest songs ever written. I was looking up information on military funerals online, and found out that it is somewhat rare to have an actual bugler there--oftentimes, recordings are used, due to the shortage of buglers. I thought that made this man's presence even more special.

When "Taps" was over, the 2 officers lifted the flag from the casket and folded it into the well-known triangle shape. When they were finished, one of them carried it over to Lorraine, knelt in front of her on one knee, and said this: (I had to find the words online, because it was so touching)

"As a representative of the United States Army, it is my high privilege to present you this flag. Let it be a symbol of the grateful appreciation this nation feels for the distinguished service rendered to our country and our flag by your loved one."

That concluded the graveside service. I saw the 3 gunmen walk toward their cars and leave, but the 2 officers marched over to the other side of the road where our cars were parked, and stood at ease. The bugler picked up the shells from the rifles (and gave them to Wayne), and then joined the officers.

I wondered why the officers and the bugler were waiting. I saw a couple people shake their hands and thank them, so I followed suit. They were both polite and sincere, but the 2nd one clasped my hand in both his hands, looked me straight in the eyes, and said, "It was an honor." The look in his eyes told me how much he meant it.

I realized the reason they stayed as we prepared to leave... As Wayne and Lorraine's car passed them, they saluted their car--and only their car.

Lorraine had mentioned to me, before the funeral, that she wanted to take pictures of the military ceremony, for the sake of relatives who were unable to make it to the funeral. I told her that I would take the pictures for her, so that she could relax and give her full attention to the ceremony. I was as discreet as possible--I found a good place to stand and stayed there (rather than moving around for a better angle), using my zoom to get pictures of the bugler and gunmen. But I couldn't help wondering if it is somehow improper to take pictures of such a ceremony? Does anyone know? No one said anything (though at one point the funeral director glanced back at me, but that could have been him wondering what the sound was, not a reproving look). I would hate to think that I broke some rules of etiquette by my picture-taking, but like I said, I was discreet, and I was doing it for Lorraine and her family's sake. I really hope I did not offend anyone.

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And now it is Friday, and a 3-day weekend is in my future. As of right now, we really don't have any solid plans, and that is fine with me. I could use a lazy weekend to catch up on my sleep.

Jack Handey QOTD:

I scrambled to the top of the precipice where Nick was waiting. "That was fun," I said. "You bet it was," said Nick. "Let's climb higher." "No," I said. "I think we should be heading back now." "We have time," Nick insisted. I said we didn't, and Nick said we did. We argued back and forth like that for about 20 minutes, then finally decided to head back. I didn't say it was an interesting story.

Hey, free dummy

Good Thing My Radio Stopped Working...

Remember a few days ago, when I mentioned my car radio was not working? Tony took my car in yesterday to have them look at it. One huge perk of his part-time job is that we can get our cars worked on and instead of having to pay big bucks right up front, they let Tony work it off. Anyway, it has been determined that the problem with my radio has nothing to do with a loose wire or a bad fuse (as we suspected, since it's gone in and out of consciousness before)--it's really most sincerely dead. I'm debating even bothering getting a new one, but I'm sure I'll cave, because driving for almost 2 hours every day in complete silence gets old really fast. And, as Tony pointed out, even if we have to get a new car really soon, we can always take the radio out and put it in the new car. He is so smart.

But my story of car woe gets even better. When the guy looked at my car (I guess he gave it a quick once-over--again, another awesome perk of having someone you know look at your car), he noticed that all 4 tires were in bad shape. He says the tread is nearly gone on all of them (with the steel belts showing through in some spots) and they all have dry rot (which means the rubber is cracking, which means it's a blowout waiting to happen). He declared the car unsafe to drive, and said we were lucky none of the tires had blown out.

As Tony told me all this, he said it with That Tone in his voice. That tone that says, "You know, it's your car--you should really take better care of it." Honestly, it bothers me that I don't know more about how to care for my car--I hate that I have to rely on Tony for it all. But when I got home and took a look at my car, I defended myself to him by telling him that, to me, the tires looked fine. Yes, I saw the cracked spots, so I suppose if I'd noticed those, I would have been concerned, but in my opinion the tread looked fine. Tony explained to my why it wasn't, so now I know (until I inevitably forget). And my car will be getting its new tires tomorrow. In the meantime, I'm driving Tony's car, which means I have music back in my life.

Karma

Yesterday afternoon, a co-worker (who usually leaves at the same time as me) asked me what time I was leaving. When I told her normal time, she asked if I could drop her off at the garage where her car was on my way to the highway. I said of course, no problem--it was on my way, and it literally took me no more than 1 extra minute to do it. This morning, when I got in to work, there was a small bag of Lindt truffles on my desk, with a note from her, thanking me for the ride. Do I have the best co-workers or what?

Happy 15 Months, Ari!

Today, Ari is 15 months old. I've kind of stopped keeping track of the months, now that she's past 1--to me, it makes more sense to say "She's a little over a year" than "She's 15 months." But now that I've been made aware of it, I supposed I should do a little update on what she's been up to lately.

As I mentioned a couple days ago, she spent the night at my parents' on Sunday. I called my mom on my way home from work on Monday to see how Ari was been, and got a good report. In the background, I could hear Ari babbling and Mom told me she was reaching for the phone. "Do you want to talk to her?" Mom asked.

"Sure," I said. I heard Ari's babbling get louder as her mouth got closer to the phone, and I hesitated for a moment before saying, "Hey, baby girl, it's Mommy."

Instantly, she screamed, "MOMMY!" Well, it may or may not have been "mommy," but it was definitely a scream that said, "Hey, I know that voice and am VERY EXCITED to hear it!" Later that evening, when Tony and I picked her up, she let out that same scream as soon as she saw Tony (which furthers my suspicion that she wasn't actually saying "mommy").

We hung out at my parents' for a while, and Ari was in this crazy mood the whole time--it was like she knew how cute she was being, and was pulling every last trick out of her bag of tricks to make us laugh. She kept wanting to go into the family room, which is one step down from the kitchen. She hasn't yet figured out how to crawl backwards off a step, and since no one was in the room to help her, she came up with her own solution. She walked back to Tony, grabbed onto his fingers, walked him over to the step, let him help her down, then immediately let go to run around the room. She did this several times--just using him to help her get down the step.

My brother Dave is staying with my parents while he does a short internship (I think that's the word for it) at a local hospital, and he brought his guinea pig Douglas with him. Ari just loves Dougie. She'll stick just one finger in the cage to touch his nose, but when he turns his head up to nibble at her, she'll quickly pull back--so at least she has that figured out. We keep telling her that it's Dougie, but then I said we're probably confusing her, since "Dougie" sounds so much like "doggie" (one of the few words that, without a doubt, she knows). At the end of the night, she kept offering Dougie her empty bottle--she was even giving him the right end too.

Speaking of sharing, that is her newest thing--she loves to hand things to people, and is so delighted when they thank her. She'll share her food with me, and giggle when I eat it and exclaim about how yummy it is. She brings me the remote control--which could be a useful skill, since we never could teach our dogs to fetch. One time, I was sitting on the couch, and she was wandering around with my cell phone. She came over to me, pulled open the fingers on my hand, and placed the cell phone in my hand. Then she grinned at me and continued on her way.

She's an expert at the sign for "more," though I think right now she only associates it with food. She'll even do it when you first put her in her highchair, even before she's had any food. I've tried to explain to her that it makes no sense to ask for "more" when you haven't had any yet, but that only makes her sign it with bigger hand gestures, as though she's saying, "I'm sorry, did you not see that? Do I need to make it bigger?" Once she learns to speak, she'll be able to throw in a couple age-related jokes about my failing eyesight.

She is walking so much better now. I tried to put my finger on what's different about it, and it's this--she can walk with her arms at her sides, instead of up in the air for balance. Of course, when she starts moving a little faster than her feet, her arms will go up, and amazingly, she can catch her balance almost every time. I know she doesn't get that grace from me, the person who can trip on absolutely nothing.

That's all that comes to mind right now, but we all know I could talk about Ari for paragraphs and paragraphs. I think this is enough for one day. I need to take some pictures of her soon, though...

Jack Handey QOTD:

If you ever fall off the Sears Tower, just go real limp, because maybe you'll look like a dummy and people will try to catch you because, hey, free dummy.

Not a bad Monday so far...

Wait, did we just have a weekend? Because I barely remember mine...

Half my weekend was taken up with a Christian conference for teen girls. It was a couple hours on Friday night, and all day Saturday. Only a couple teens from our church went, but I wanted t go along to check it out--I'd heard of this conference before, but had never been. I think I enjoyed it as much as (or more than) they did. The speakers were obviously gearing their talks toward teenage girls, but the music was just my style. I think I even discovered a couple favorite new artists. So it wasn't a bad way to spend the day Saturday--it was just a long day.

Sunday was church, with a potluck dinner afterwards, which stretched the day out a little longer. We got home, and no sooner did we walk in the door than we got a call that Wayne's granddad had died. Wayne and his mom, Lorraine, live with his grandfather/her father. When they got home, they found him sitting at the kitchen table, but face-down on the table--his favorite spot to relax and roll cigarettes. Tony took off right away to be with them, while I called my mom and made arrangements for her and Dad to watch Ari so that I could go be with Wayne and Lorraine too. At this point, Ari was in desperate need of a nap and had hardly eaten lunch, so I knew she would be even more of a handful than usual if I tried to bring her along. Luckily, my awesome parents were willing to watch her on such short notice, and as we talked, we just decided they would keep her overnight. Mondays are Mom's day to watch Ari anyway, and we figured we'd probably be out late anyway, so it would make no sense to pick Ari up after she was already asleep for the night, just to bring her back in the morning.

I packed Ari up quickly and tried to lay her down for a nap at Mom and Dad's, but she was having none of that. Finally, after a few of my failed attempts, Dad went and got her and prepared to feed her. I heard later that she ate great for them and was in a good mood, which was a relief to hear. I felt so bad dropping off a tired, hungry baby. (And, believe me, I offered her just about every kind of food there was at the church potluck, and she refused ALL of it--even the stuff I know she likes.)

When I got to Wayne and Lorraine's, the funeral home workers were there, along with a police officer (and, I think a coroner). I greeted Wayne and Lorraine with hugs, and stayed with them in the living room while the funeral home workers and Tony, Pastor, and Dawn cleaned up in the kitchen. After that was all taken care of, we all went back to Pastor and Dawn's house, to get Wayne and Lorraine away from their house and to keep them company for a while.

My heart is breaking so much for them. Wayne is one of our closest friends, and his mom is one of the sweetest, most generous people you will ever meet. We have known them both for over 9 years, and they have become especially dear friends in the past few years.

So I get into work early this morning, feeling on the verge of tears. I have barely seen my sweet little monkey all weekend, and I'm still hurting for Wayne and Lorraine. Add to that my perpetual tiredness, and you have one very weepy Sara.

So my boss comes in to work today... well, let me back up a little. The general procedure around here is that when someone new is hired, they have a little reception for them--usually first thing in the morning, with breakfasty-type foods like bagels, pastries, coffee, etc.--so that they can be introduced to everyone. Because I started working here as a temp, then as a long-term temp, before finally being hired as a permanent employee, I never got a welcome reception. I tease my boss about it every now and then--like, for example, when someone new is hired in our department. Of course, I don't mind at all that I never got a reception--it's just fun to give her a hard time about it.

When I had my review with her on Friday, she mentioned that the company used to do a "promotion breakfast" with newly-promoted employees--every so often they would have one, and include whoever had been promoted since the last one. She was a little unsure if the company was still doing it, though, and she was racking her brain trying to remember when the last one was. Of course I couldn't miss the opportunity to tease her once again--saying that since I never got a welcome reception, I wasn't going to hold my breath about this promotion breakfast either.

So this morning, Sharon comes in carrying a huge basket, which she sets down in the empty desk area right behind my cubicle. Then, she loudly announces to the room that I got promoted, and since I never got my welcome reception and love to tease her about that all the time, she had made some goodies to celebrate my promotion. In the basket were homemade (yes--homemade) blueberry and raspberry/lemon muffins, and she also brought in a homemade fruit salad, and a box of chocolates (stating, as she opened it, that she had to bring chocolate because she knows how much I love it). Everyone gathered around the food display and congratulated me on my promotion, and I had to fight back tears. You see why I love my job?

She fretted out loud about not having any "pretty plates" (all she had were red plastic ones), and I couldn't resist the chance to jump in with, "Man, so not only is my reception 3 years late, but now I don't even get pretty plates?" I love that I can joke around with her like that.

And let me just add, those blueberry muffins are to die for, which I have already told her about 3 times. What a fanstastic way to start what I thought was going to be a dreary Monday.