The Baptism

Mia was baptized on Sunday May 18. It was a beautiful sunny day, temperature in the mid-70's. More than 20 family and friends joined us for the service and the after-party at our house. Both Mia's grandmothers had traveled the long distance, as well as one of Mia's favorite aunts (that would be Auntie Paula) and two of her cousins (9 and 12 years old, not named here because I haven't secured Auntie Paula's permission).

At our church, the baptisms happen during the service, so there were plenty of people there to witness our squirmy worm, dressed in her lovely white dress. The minister had met with us before the service and said everyone recognizes that with a toddler, "there will be plenty of movement." Mia didn't disappoint, extending her arms out to be held by the other parent, removing her hair bow and trying to hit me with the clip, and then repeatedly removing my headband (A headband? What was I thinking?) Sarah reports that people around her seemed to think it was on par for an 18-month-old, spouses sharing knowing looks as if to say, "Remember when our children were that age?" The minister said some nice things about Mia's place in our family and the church community. (Fun fact: Presbyterians don't have godparents.) After the short baptism sacrament concluded, I forgot that I was supposed to let Mia take our deacon's hand so he could present her to the congregation by walking her down the center aisle. Instead, I quickly plunked her down and escorted her myself. We'd planted her cousins at the end of the runway with a camera and their high-beam smiles. That was our insurance policy to make sure Mia ran the right direction, if she took off without me.

Jeff's Mom later said she imagined Mia walking down the same aisle to be married one day. I like that idea.

The Church Ladies - Part 2

Well, I promised you a conclusion to that story about our practice round at the church, though it seems a bit anti-climactic after going through Mia's actual baptism this past Sunday.

When we last left our heroines, they had finished perusing the "My First Words" book. Mia was getting a bit bored and besides that, she started fussing with her lovely new white sandals, trying in vain to unbuckle them ("unvelcro", really). She got that attitude of frustration and I suspected a fit was coming, so I took the path of least resistance and removed the sandals myself. Mia then wanted to get down from the pew, so I let her stand there barefoot, playing with the hymnals, bibles, offering envelopes, and various flyers. A baby was being baptized, but I was so busy ensuring the safety of hymnals or bibles, I really couldn't pay attention.
Just about the time the process of removing the envelopes from the slots at the back of the pew, crumpling them, and then trying to return them to the slot was losing its fascination, the cherub choir stood up to sing. I let Mia stand on the pew to watch them, since she loves watching other kids. She didn't seem to care about the singing, but apparently decided it was a good time to do some vocalizing herself. She smiled and yelled "Daaaa Laaaaa" (one of her all-purpose exclamations that we have yet to decipher) in the general direction of the choir. People around us smiled, no doubt thinking she was responding to the choir, so I went along with the charade.
After the choir finished their number, the minister invited all children to come forward for the children's message. I made a split second decision that this would be a good chance for Mia to familiarize herself with the view from the alter, so I carried her up to the front. On the way, I remembered she was shoeless, but there was no turning back. I held Mia tight during the children's sermon and she remained reasonably still, though I could feel her desire to fidget building by the minute. When they wrapped up, I scooped up our gal and we headed back to our seats, bare feet flapping. The very kind members who sat near us whispered, "She did great up there." After that, Mia didn't want to sit still in the pew. She was pushing her way toward the aisle, straining my ability to hold her back. I decided we'd probably had as much "practice" as we could stand, so we made our getaway. Total elapsed time: 35 minutes.

Clean Plate Treats

Mia loves to feed us. In this photo, she is helping Daddy finish his salad. The amusing part (to me, at least) is that he had left the tomatoes on his plate because he didn't particularly like them. But then, doesn't everything taste better when served up by your darling daughter?

Last One in is a Rotten Egg

Our neighborhood pool opened last Saturday, so we took Mia there that very day. For the past 2 summers, every time we went to the pool we told ourselves, "Next year we'll be here with our baby." Now the long-awaited day had finally arrived. The water was a bit cool, so we didn't stay long. Just wait until August, when the water gets so warm it isn't even refreshing anymore. Then they have a special party where they throw a huge hunk of dry ice in to cool it down.

We think Mia looked really cute in the tank suit and matching top handed down from her cousin Kira. It just so happened that her beach ball matched her outfit. Mia preferred to stay in our arms, and her favorite part was watching the other kids, so much so that we couldn't get her to turn her gaze in our direction for the photo op.

The Church Ladies - Chapter 1

Mia is going to be baptized this Sunday, so last Sunday I took her to church. No, not her usual trip to the church nursery; she actually went to the church service. Yes, it was Mother's Day, but I had to go as a single parent. Jeff had earned some downtime, since he'd been up with Mia since a clap of thunder woke her up at 5 a.m. As we made our way into church, just a few minutes late, I was carrying Mia and telling her, "Look up there, honey, the church bells are going to ring and they are really pretty, not scary." I knew they were going to go off any minute and didn't want a repeat of last week's terror. I kept repeating, "Here come the bells, they aren't scary" and a nice late-arriving couple in front of me turned around to give me a quizzical look. I then made my first faux pas of the day by explaining, "Last week, the bells scared the... (Oh no, Donna, you are in church, don't say "crap", find another word quick...) ... beejeezus out of her." (Oops.)
The whole point of the trip was to get Mia a bit more comfortable being in the church sanctuary while testing my carefully planned strategies for keeping her reasonably quiet and reasonably still for long enough to get through her baptism ceremony, which happens at about the 20-minute mark in the service. (After that, who cares what she does? We can run out, leaving her red-faced grandmothers behind.) I'd filled her diaper bag with all manner of amusements: 2 of her favorite soft books, favorite teddy bear, glitter pom-poms with 2 zip-lock bags (so she could transfer them between bags, one by one), water-filled sippy cup, and if all else fails.... Gerber veggie crackers. I nearly had to jettison the diapers and wipes to make room for it all.

We entered the sanctuary just before the service began, and I boldly took Mia to a row near the front, thinking if she could see more, she'd last longer. As people turned and smiled at us, I tried to prepare them for the inevitable by whispering, "She's getting baptized next week and we need some practice." They returned kind and knowing smiles. I prefer not to interpret it as pity. As the service began, Mia started squirming almost immediately. I got out her soft "First Words" book and as she pointed to each picture, I whispered the word in her ear. It was really cute, but unfortunately, the book only has about 50 pictures and she doesn't like repeats, so that didn't take long.
Tune in tomorrow for Chapter 2.

Mother's Day Eve

My first Mother's Day, though it hasn't yet arrived, has provided much to write about.
On Wednesday, Mia brought home from preschool a laminated collage she made for me. Unfortunately, the preschool had accidentally left my name off the email distribution list inviting me to the Mother's Day breakfast, so they had to send Mia's collage home with Sarah instead. The poster included a snapshot of Mia looking grumpy (in her inimitably fetching way) out on the playground, a fingerpainting, and a poem about M.O.T.H.E.R. that included the line "O means only that she is getting old." (I kid you not.) The fingerpainting contained the usual handprints and a few blurry splotches. (At 18 months, I'm impressed any time the teachers can get Mia to stick her hand in some fingerpaint and drag it across the paper instead of painting the table with it.)
Sarah and Mia co-produced a lovely gift for me, a framed fingerpainting that was definitely created by Mia's own hand. It has her distinctive lines and her favorite shades of blue and green. This was accompanied by a sweet handmade card that Sarah helped with. It contains a very touching poem (which kindly did not mention my age!) and a letter purportedly from Mia. Here is an excerpt:
Deer Momy,
I wont to tel yu how glaad I am that yur my momy. I lik it wen yu reed me bookz (yu allwys no my favrits) and wen yu pley with me in my new citchen that my favrit nanny piked out for me....

I am such a softie, this brought a tear to my eye after I was finished laughing at Sarah's clever self-promotion.
Nothing compares to the gift it is just to be Mia's mother. As I write this, I am thinking about Mia's birth mom. As Mia gets older, we will have to find ways to include her birth mom in our mother's day remembrance. I have read that some adoptive families recognize "birth mother's day" on the day before Mother's Day, so maybe we'll do that. I wish there were some way to let her to know that the difficult choice she made has given us joy beyond measure.
To my Mom and Mother-in-law and all you blog-reading Moms out there,

Happy Mother's Day!

Coffee, Tea, or Mia?