Trimming the Tree

Last night we decorated our Christmas tree. As always, Jeff and I enjoyed sharing the significance of many of the ornaments. It is a good thing we do that, because otherwise one or the other of us is bound to wrinkle our nose and say, "Honey, couldn't we leave that one off the tree this year?" just as the other is recalling fond memories of the Grandmother from whom said ornament had been passed down. Honestly, if we considered the decorations Jeff brought into the marriage vs. Donna's, Jeff would win hands down. (Forgive me for saying that this is in sharp contrast to most categories of our material possessions.) Jeff's mother gave him an ornament every year, and still does. Most of the ornaments I'd accumulated were rustic folk-art kinds of things from Pier 1 Imports, and they were purged a year or two ago. I've acquired some nice ornaments since we've been married. I'm most fond of the four cloissone ornaments, even more after we visited a cloissone factory when we were in Beijing. (I regret I didn't buy more while in China.)
This year was particularly meaningful because Mia was able to join in. The tree is a bit bottom-heavy, but we don't mind. It was fun to see which ornaments caught her fancy among all that bling. On the classic side, she exclaimed over a simple crystal heart. On the modern side, she took a fancy to a miniature electric guitar I gave Jeff some time ago. She posed for a photo before running to her playroom to get her very own Wiggles electric guitar.

Giving Thanks

We had a lovely Thanksgiving Day at our house, just Mia, Jeff, and I. We feel truly blessed in so many ways. Mia is starting to understand the meaning of holidays, but not quite. On Tuesday, she said, "Mom, I want Thanksgiving!" as if she were demanding a lollipop or strawberries.
Yesterday Jeff and I got a babysitter so that we could have some time alone together. We did a little bit of shopping and stumbled on a great sale on some of the old classic games from our childhood. We picked up Don't Spill The Beans and Don't Break The Ice. (Unbelievably, one of Mia's parents is able to sing both verses of the 1960's jingle for Don't Break the Ice. You know, the one that goes... Tap hard once, tap hard twice, there goes another block of ice! And parent 2 thought it was so catchy, s/he learned it as well. Jeff wondered aloud if the jingle-composer is collecting a royalty every time we sing it.) We were looking for something to do last night, so we broke out both games and played them with Mia. I have to say that it seems counter-intuitive to a 3-year-old that the object of Don't Spill the Beans is to get rid of your beans. Mia wants to get as many beans as possible, and what kid wouldn't? Mr. Milton Bradley would have been proud to see us enjoying our first "family game night." And of course, we were teaching our gal sportsmanship as well.
Today I went out for a bit and when I came home, Jeff and Mia were raking leaves. Mia was an energetic helper.

What She Said

I continue to be amazed at what Mia pieces together in her mind. Lately, she has been asking us to read her 3 books about adoption. "I Love You Like Crazy Cakes" is about a woman who adopts from China. It has a scene showing a big room with lots of cribs. "Over the Moon" is about a couple that adopts from an unnamed far-away country. We also spend quite a bit of time looking at Mia's own lifebook. Last weekend, I saw Mia astride the back cushion of the loveseat in her playroom. (They told me loose cushions were a bad idea when you have kids, but I didn't listen...) Our dialogue went something like this:
Me: Mia, what are you doing up there?
Mia: I'm sailing across the sea.
Me: Sailing across the sea? Where are you going?
Mia: I'm going to China.
Me: What are you going to do when you get there?
Mia: I'm going to see the babies.

Mia is picking up lots of new words and phrases that I'd guess you could call slang. Last night, she was telling us about something that happened at school, but she was so excited and giggly, we couldn't tell what she was saying. Something about something being dirty or falling on the floor and getting dirty. Mia couldn't stop laughing long enough for us to make out what the story was. She kept repeating it, but all we could make out was the last few words, "It was nasty!" She apparently had decided that, "It was nasty!" is a very funny thing to say. Given that Jeff and I got caught up in the laughter, I guess she was right.

Her Favorite Dress

Mia loves to wear dresses every day. It doesn't matter whether she is going to school or church or swimming lessons - she insists on wearing a dress. I figure this is one place I can safely let her exert her will, so most days she wears a dress. This is actually quite budget-friendly, given I have a marked tendency to buy too many dresses at her school's consignment sales. (My internal dialogue goes something like: "Ohhhh, this is sooooo cute. And I bet it was only worn once. And look, it's only $4." Ka-ching.)
So, we start off our mornings by letting Mia pick an outfit from the closet. Sometimes, I try to push a particular garment, but this is nearly always met by a resounding, "No, I don't want that one." (You'd think I'd learn, but as we've established many times in these pages, I can be a bit dense.) A couple of weeks ago, Mia discovered this gorgeous jumper in her closet. (Maybe I do learn. I never tried to push it on her, I let her discover it for herself.) It instantly became her favorite. I think she'd wear it every day if she could. It is somewhat impractical for school days, since it is nearly floor-length. Also, Mia refuses to wear tights, so I'm concerned about what might be showing out there on the monkey bars. I've asked the teachers whether it gets in the way on the playground, but they said Mia manages just fine.
I have to say, if Mia had to pick only one dress from her closet, this might just be my favorite. So, I let her wear it a couple of times a week. I think every teacher in the school has noticed a pattern as when I walk her to her classroom we often hear, "Mia, you're wearing your favorite dress today!"
On the particular day I took this photo, I thought we'd agreed on another outfit until Mia marched into the bathroom wearing The Jumper. Fortunately, she agreed not only to put on the blouse underneath it, but pose for a photo. My lucky day. My beautiful girl in her beautiful dress, captured forever.

Thanksgiving Show

Today Mia had her annual "Thanksgiving feast" at preschool. The teachers cook a traditional turkey dinner for all the students and their parents. This is followed by a little show. Mia's class was scheduled to sing several "finger-play" songs. Last year, Mia was a bit young for this. She wasn't quite able to get with the program, but her much-older classmates put on an enthusiastic show. I was looking forward to this year's program, knowing our girl is now really into that kind of thing. Every morning on the way to school she sings and acts out "Sing a Song of Sixpence," giggling hysterically after the part about the bird snipping of the maid's nose. She then goes into a lecture about the bird getting a time out, etc.
Unfortunately, I had a meeting today and couldn't make it. I felt really terrible. Until I was laid off, I didn't make it to every event. After all, there are a lot of them. Now that I've had the chance to participate in more of these things, I know what I was missing. Jeff was able to go in my stead, taking the camcorder so I wouldn't miss our little actress's triumph. After my meeting, I called Jeff to hear how it went.
Me: Sorry to bother you at work honey, but I'm curious how it went.
Jeff: Mia loved having me there for lunch.
Me: I knew she would. She talked about it the whole drive to school, saying Mom couldn't go because she had a meeting, but Daddy was coming. How were their songs?
Jeff: I filmed it all, but they didn't do anything.
Me: What do you mean?
Jeff: The teachers sang, but the kids didn't do anything. Not just our kid, none of them.
Me: Really? But they've been practice their singing and hand motions for weeks. The teachers even said Mia and Evan started practicing spontaneously last week out on the playground.
Jeff: Well, if that is the measure of success, this didn't go so well. But I got it all on film.

Now I'm 3

I'm a little late in writing about Mia's birthday party, but thought you might enjoy a couple of pics. The theme was a princess party. As each girl entered, she went to the "fitting room" where she hung up her gown and was fitted for her paper crown. They then went to the downstairs playroom for some active play. Mia loved being able to bounce in her bouncy castle with her friends - usually it's just Mom or Dad. Playtime over, they dressed in their princess gowns and enjoyed a lunch of chicken quesadillas, crudites, and fruit. The other parents noted the girls were unusually hearty eaters. Jeff reports that at one point they almost had a competition to see who could eat the most celery sticks.
I should comment on Mia's choice of gown. The night before the party, I'd hung out all 5-6 of her dress-up gowns, mostly pre-owned Halloween costumes plus a couple of pre-owned ballet recital outfits. I thought Mia would want to wear the blue gown again, but the hot pink ballet outfit caught her eye. And why wouldn't it? It had a sequined top, spaghetti straps, silky rosettes, and layers and layers of tulle. I'd purchased it at the consignment sale at Mia's school for a song and had been hiding it in the back of her closet because it was way too big for her. Once Mia saw it, her love affair with the blue princess gown was history. I told her she could try it on and she didn't want to take it off.
After the party, Mia hugged her BFF good-bye and watched her little princess friends and their moms depart, balloons and treat bags in hand.

It's Awesome

For months, we've known Mia is capable of using the potty - she just doesn't want to, most of the time. This week, my desire to get Mia out of pull-ups became stronger than my fear of accidents. I bought her some very thick cotton training underpants and hoped for the best. I promised the forbidden fruit, yogurt melts, as a reward if she stayed dry all day. (I should note that yogurt melts are usually reserved for high-stakes situations like airplane rides because she loves them and they are ridiculously expensive to serve on a regular basis.) Diapers are still permitted during naps and overnight, of course. Sunday went well. Mia wore the underpants all day, stayed dry, and got yogurt melts that night. On Monday, I decided to put her in pull-ups for preschool. We are required to put 2 diapers/pull-ups in their backpack every day, and when I saw she'd stayed dry at school, I got bolder on Tuesday. With the lead teacher's support ("We know you can do it, Mia!"), I put her in training pants. The assistant teacher, who is the designated diaper-changer, wasn't quite so anxious to try it out, but she agreed. They warned me that after one accident, Mia would have to wear pull-ups again.
I'm happy to report that Mia stayed dry at school all week. We haven't been quite as lucky at home, with one accident most days. Mia's teacher has encouraged me to involve Mia in the clean-up, saying "accidents" should be physically unpleasant for the perpetrator. On Thursday night, Jeff and I took Mia to the mall. I needed to make a purchase, and Jeff thought Mia would enjoy playing on the indoor playground. Jeff noted some apprehension about leaving the diaper bag in the minivan. Despite his repeated queries, "Mia, do you have to go potty?" I got a cellphone call from Jeff saying she'd wet her pants. Her legs were soaked, as were her socks. (Jeff said, "We kept moving so a puddle didn't collect." I'm pretty sure he was joking.) With no diaper bag, that left Mia walking stiff-legged back to the parking lot. She was clearly uncomfortable, which seemed appropriate in our view.
We are seeing definite signs of progress. This morning, Mia announced she had to go potty. She went in the powder room and returned saying, "Mom, I pooped." She had even wiped herself well. As I went to inspect, Mia pointed to the toilet and said in an earnest tone, "Look, Mom, it's awesome."
What's really awesome is the money I'm saving on pull-ups.

Halloween Day

Halloween Day was slightly eventful at our house. We weren't planning on trick-or-treating, just going to our subdivision's annual Halloween party. It rained most of the day, so the party was moved into the garage of some very kind (and extremely neat, now that I'm thinking about it) neighbors. We arrived fairly early, took a couple of photos of Princess Mia on a lovely garden bench, and held our gal as she pretended to be shy. The face painter arrived. Mia wasn't so sure she wanted her face painted, but I took advantage and had her give me some whiskers and a cute little black nose to complete my Minnie Mouse look. Just as Mia was warming up, a neighbor walked up the driveway wearing one of the scariest Halloween masks I've ever seen. (Did I mention this is supposed to be a children's party?) The mask was supposed to be an insane asylum inmate, with scary bug-eyes, a sinister grin, and rivulets of blood all over the face. To make it worse, said offender announced his presence with an intrusive "blehhhhhh." I saw the guy coming and tried to distract Mia, but this individual wanted to be noticed by all, and he was. Mia let out a blood-curdling scream and grabbed Jeff around the neck, burying her face in his chest.
The offender took his mask off, looking slightly sheepish. As we tried to comfort Mia, he came forward in an ill-conceived attempt to show her he really wasn't scary. I waved him off, knowing there would be no convincing her that he was just a regular, harmless guy. (Days later, she still refers to him as "the clown". There you go. My sister and I think clowns are creepy, now Mia does too. A chip off the old block.) After some serious attempts at consoling her, Mia calmed down some, but she still professed to be scared, repeatedly saying, "I want to go home. I want to go home."
Finally, we cheered her up by telling her we were leaving. We said we'd take her to Starbuck's so she could show Miss Tammy her costume. (If I haven't mentioned her before, Miss Tammy is a barista who always makes a big fuss over Mia, giving her crayons and coloring books. I'd promised to bring Mia by to show off her costume.) That was a big hit. Starbuck's was pretty empty, so the staff made a big fuss over her princess attire.
The rest of our Halloween evening was uneventful. The length and slope of our driveway makes us a geographically undesirable trick-or-treat destination, so Jeff and Mia spent the rest of the evening carving our jack-o-lantern. (To be clear, Jeff did the carving while Mia told him what shapes she wanted for the eyes, nose, and mouth.) I roasted the pumpkin seeds and made pumpkin soup (from canned pumpkin - Martha Stewart I am not).

Before we take our leave from Halloween 2009, I should share a couple other tidbits with you:
Before we left the Halloween party, the hosts insisted on taking a family photo. Mia still wouldn't stop crying, so eventually I gave them the go-ahead to capture the scene as it was. Would it be cruel to feature the story on a scrapbook page?

Another neighbor still hasn't taken down the large ghost and ghoul decorations that are hanging from their trees. Mia has had a love-hate relationship with them for the past 2 weeks, alternately saying she wanted to see them, then saying she was scared of them. This morning on the way to school, Mia broke into a chant:
HALL o WEEN is Over, TAKE 'em DOWN.
It sounded like a high school cheer, especially when Mia repeated it over and over through the 4 mile drive to school.

I Got Boots

Mia has been quite determined to select her clothing and dress herself each day. That always means a dress and (at my insistence) matching leggings. (Tights are out, as far as Mia is concerned.) Then she picks out shoes and socks. If they don't match, I don't object. Some days the results are better than others. On this particular day, she pulled her socks up over her leggings, announcing, "I got boots." When we got to school, she proudly displayed her "boots" to her teachers.