Goodbye 2008.

No, really. See ya later 2008. Take your musty old robes and make way for the 2009 baby. Git gone. Scram. 2008, you are persona non grata. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

If ever there was a year I wanted to banish into the past and forget it ever happened, 2008 would be it. It feels like a dark cloud has been hanging over our heads for the entire year. I could link up a bunch of posts pointing to a year in review, but I think it would hurt too much to re-read those words.

You probably remember the lowlights, anyway: being laid off, trying to find a job with no success, dealing with a summer of regression from Cordy, losing health insurance, a car that tried to die on us, a relapse into depression for me (can you blame me at this point?), losing my best-paid freelance job, going on assistance for a short time, suffering through serious marriage problems that nearly split us apart, and on and on and on.

As one final parting blow before 2008 was done, we lost our health insurance for the girls due to Aaron's temporary job paying him too much in a single month, and found out a developer who owns the land behind us is now trying to change it from building very nice single family condo homes to an apartment complex. As if our property values weren't suffering enough already.

As my friend Erin would say, 2008 can #suckit.

Some good did happen in 2008, though. I don't think we could have survived an entire year of nothing but being beat down. I started writing a new blog that I love. Cordy has made incredible progress in the last 6 months, tackling many challenges that before were too much for her to handle. Aaron currently has a technical writing contract job that should last through January, and if we have any luck, beyond that. Family and friends continue to offer their support. Blog friends came through for me in spades, helping to fix my car, and giving us a surprise $100 gift at Christmas. I only hope I've helped as many people as have helped me.

Lesson: although circumstances have sucked, it's the people, not objects, that can make things seem better.

So while it's been a stressful year, it hasn't been all doom and gloom. But when you combine our personal situation with the global economic, environmental, and social problems of this year, I think you'll join us in giving 2008 the finger as we boot it out the door.

As for 2009, I can only hope that we've satisfied karma's twisted sense of humor and our fortunes will improve in some way. I'm longing for the Powers That Be to tire of screwing with us. I'd like our financial situation to stabilize, and I hope we'll all have health insurance again soon. I'll be finished with school in June, and will then start my search for a job, either part-time or full-time. I'm planning to go to Blissdom 09 and BlogHer 09 this year (still working on the financial details), and expect them to be great events for meeting up with friends and making new contacts.

Personally, I want 2009 to be a year of better health and better parenting. I think I'm an OK parent, but there's always room for improvement. I'd also like to start sewing again, making clothing for Cordy and Mira instead of buying as much mass-produced clothing. I want to spend more time with friends and family and less time worrying. Also, one way or another I'm going to kick depression's ass and feel happy again.

C'mon 2009. I've got a lot of faith in you. Don't let me down.

And finally, I hope 2009 is a year full of promise and good fortune for you and your family, too.

Like many others, my mind is still in a haze, recovering from the holiday marathon. Three more containers of brisket remain until I'm finished with the leftovers and guaranteed to never want to see brisket again until next December. Other highlights:

* Both girls stayed awake for all holiday gatherings this year, two of which lasted past 9 pm. This is especially impressive for Cordy, who can rarely stay awake past 8 pm.

* Starbucks gift cards really are some of the best gifts out there. Nothing says love like the gift of sweet, hot caffeine. Restaurant gift cards (especially to restaurants that don't have crayons) fall closely behind that. Cash trumps everything, of course.

* For the first time in several years, my mom did not stay with us on Christmas Eve. And for the first time in several years, Aaron and I slept without clothing on Christmas Eve. Yay, naked!

* The best part of Hanukkah falling over Christmas? You can hit the post-Christmas sales for any remaining Hanukkah gifts.

* The girls looked great in their dresses. Cordy loves her fancy dress and asks to wear it every day now. Had I actually paid for it, she probably would wear it every day to make it worth it. Still, it's a gorgeous dress on her.


* No one was sick!

* I found out more family members read my blog than I originally thought. So to all of you who revealed yourselves last week: hi, welcome to my blog, and I'm glad you like it. Don't be afraid to leave a comment now and then, OK? And I really can't be held responsible if you read anything that is TMI for you (see third * above), so read at your own risk.

*Cordy picked a bad time of the year to learn new profanity. When told she couldn't do something, she sighed in her saddest voice, "Aw, fuckers..." Wonder where she learned that word, Aaron?

* Little girls in their PJs and tutus are really cute.


* I'm thrilled that a large part of our holiday shopping came from small, independent shops. Gifts for Aaron's family were purchased at the annual Winterfair craft show in Columbus, including a nice pen with a wooden case, a handwoven purse, and some dip mixes that are incredibly delicious. Mira scored with two dresses from Etsy:


Cute, aren't they? Had we more money this year, Etsy sellers would have seen a lot more of my cash. Given the choice, I'd rather purchase something made by hand by a small-time business owner than something mass produced and probably made in a foreign country by children who should be spending their time in school or just, you know, being kids.

Which brings up another topic: have you seen the Help Save Handmade campaign? To sum up, a new act going into effect very soon would require all children's products to undergo government lab testing before they could be sold. Despite the fact that the larger manufacturers are the more likely culprits of using dangerous materials or construction, this would require small-time crafters to pay the thousands of dollars for testing for each item - a cost most couldn't afford, for products that are already made from natural materials.

If you haven't already, read up on the issues, vote on change.org, join in the handmande meme, and get involved in contacting Congress and the CPSC to protest this act. Most of all, continue to support handmade businesses - many of which are started by moms and dads who want kids to have quality toys and clothing - so that our kids can continue to get cool handmade gifts every Christmas.

From Cordy's new Little Tikes camera:










And when said 4-year old's 19-month sister gets her hands on the same Little Tikes camera, you get these pictures...






...and about 130 more exactly like them.

With the holiday
I completely forgot that
today is Friday

If you celebrate,
did you get any good gifts
for Christmas this year?

Sorry to those participating in Haiku Friday. With Christmas in the middle of the week this year, I lost track of what day of the week it is. Somehow I think I'm not the only one who forgot, either.

So let's here it - any noteworthy presents?


To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:

1. Write your own haiku on your blog. You can do one or many, all following a theme or just random. What's a haiku, you ask? Click here.

2. Sign the Mister Linky below with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your main blog URL). DON'T sign unless you have a haiku this week. If you need help with this, please let me know.

3. Pick up a Haiku Friday button to display on the post or in your sidebar by clicking the button at the top.

REMEMBER: Do not post your link unless you have a haiku this week! I will delete any links without haiku!

It doesn't feel like Christmas without a cheesy gift, so we brought out the classic Aunt Dot gift again. It's like she's still here with us.


Aunt Dot's Gift from Christina M on Vimeo.

For those of you celebrating Christmas - or just wanting to see something cute while eating your Chinese take-out - a little holiday song by Cordy. (If you're reading the feed you may need to click-thru to see it.)



We Wish You... from Christina M on Vimeo.


And one more, with a typical little-sister upstaging by Mira at the end. Watch your sound folks - Mira's surprise entrance is a wee bit loud.



Jingle Bells from Christina M on Vimeo.

Enjoy your December 24th, whether it be celebrating Christmas Eve at home or at a party, lighting the fourth night of Hanukkah candles, or just kicking back and watching everyone scurry like mice to find their last gifts as you sip hot chocolate and watch the snow fall.

Today I loaded up the back of our Hyundai with several items for the Columbus YWCA family shelter. My goal was to pay forward some of the generosity that an anonymous friend had passed on to me, and so with a handful of $20's in hand, I went to Target yesterday and bought as much as I could.

diapers and formula = expensive

I also added a Mrs. Goodbee dollhouse. When I did a review for this dollhouse, I was sent two of them, with the intention that I would give the second away to an organization that can use it. The YWCA has an on-site childcare center and the dollhouse will be a perfect addition there.

Finally, knowing they were in need of all baby items, including basics like baby shampoo and lotion, I thought I'd send a quick request to Johnson & Johnson to ask if they would like to donate anything. When I went to their Camp Baby event in April, I was impressed by their presentation about J&J's involvement in community projects and charity works. Asking for a donation was worth a shot, right?

Totally worth trying.

And they didn't disappoint - despite the distribution center being in a blackout period, Lori and Alex put together a box full of J&J baby products and sent it out quickly so I could add it to the donation. They have my gratitude for taking the time to support this family shelter, all at the request of a B-minus-at-best blogger. (BTW, J&J has a blog, too.)

When I brought everything to the shelter today, it was full of residents spending time in the community area. Kids aren't in school right now, so several kids were trying to run off their energy as best they could indoors. I heard babies crying from all corners of the room.

As one of the shelter workers helped me bring everything inside, a few boys caught sight of the dollhouse and came running, their mouths and eyes open wide in amazement. Several people gave soft cheers as the diapers and formula wheeled past them. Each person I saw met my gaze with one of equal kindness and warmth.

The staff were thrilled to see the J&J box and told me the diapers were needed right away. They were very busy, so I quickly filled out the necessary paperwork, shyly accepted one more round of thanks, and left. Had I the time, I think I would be content to spend an hour or two there chatting with the residents, but sadly my day was far too busy to stay today.

I think the YWCA family shelter will be seeing more of me - I'm adopting it as my charity for the next year, and will do what I can to help provide supplies.

Thanks again to J&J and to my anonymous giver - you helped me make this cold month a little better for so many others, which is one of the best gifts I could give - and get.

(And that feeling of goodwill helped dull the blow that came later in the day when I found out our girls are losing their health insurance. Aaron's contract job makes more than the monthly limit to qualify for the state's children's health insurance, even though it's only a 2-3 month contract and if you look at our yearly income we'll more than qualify. Once the contract ends we can go through the reapplication process. Bureaucracy can #suckit.)

When we received an invite for a birthday party at the Columbus Zoo, I was excited at the possibility of killing four birds with one stone. (Yeah, I'm skilled like that. Two? That's nothing.) (And those would be proverbial birds. No real birds were harmed in the writing of this post.)

Not only would we celebrate the birthday of two friends, but we'd also be there after sunset, so we could see the Wildlights display. And we'd visit the model trains - an obsession shared by both of my girls. AND we'd see Santa, if Cordy could work up the nerve this year.

We tried to see Santa last year at the zoo, and if you don't feel like reading the recap, I can sum up: it went poorly. Even though Cordy wanted nothing more than to meet the great giver of all things present-y and peppermint-y, she couldn't handle the reality of meeting him live.

This year she said she was ready, and promised to sit on his lap so she could get a candy cane.

Too bad we weren't ready for the Arctic Circle to relocate to Ohio yesterday.

Walking from the parking lot to the front of the zoo was painful. Even though we had probably the closest parking spot ever, the wind was sharp and bitterly cold. In that short walk, both girls sported bright red cheeks, and I could no longer feel my fingers.

Thankfully, the party was just inside the gate. While Cordy made a jingle bell necklace and ate cake, Aaron and I considered the idea of telling her Santa was too busy to visit the zoo this year and bailing out quickly after the party.

When we walked outside again, though, the skies had darkened and the glowing light displays surrounded us. Cordy immediately wanted to visit all of the animals in the zoo and find Santa, despite a wind chill of -10F.

We took her to the train exhibit to distract the girls while we discussed our options. We could 1. Leave and risk the disappointment of one little girl prone to tantrums or 2. Risk freezing our limbs off to go to the back of the zoo where Santa waited. With a sigh we decided to risk frostbite.

I won't give the full details of the walk to Santa, although I can affirm that statements like, "If you want to see Santa, you need to RUN, Cordy! Santa likes little girls who can keep up!" may have been uttered. A few expletives surrounding statements like "My nose hairs are frozen" and "I think the blood is freezing in my fingers" may have been overheard as well.

After what felt like a glacial eternity, we made it to Santa, and - surprise, surprise! - there was no line! Hear that, parents? If you want to avoid the wait and have Santa all to yourself, you only need visit when it's not safe for skin to be exposed to the frigid air!

Cordy was a bundle of excitement when she saw Santa. We wound through the path to get to him and when we reached the platform, she hesitated for a moment. Here we go again, I thought. Prepare for her to run.

But she didn't. Instead, she nervously let him lift her onto his lap. Without waiting for an introduction or the question to be asked, she blurted out, "Santa, I want a candy cane for Christmas!" He then asked her what else she wanted for Christmas, but again she only asked for a candy cane.

I then placed Mira on Santa's other knee, and as I predicted last year, she started to cry right away. The photographer was trying to get them to look at the camera, and so Aaron and I crouched down beside each child, Aaron trying to focus Cordy's attention, while I attempted to calm the toddler who thought she was going to be eaten by a giant white beard.

After the snapshot, Santa tried to talk with Cordy some more, but Cordy paid no attention to him and reached for a candy cane in the basket next to him. She did her duty, and now wanted her reward. As she wandered around the platform, Santa looked at me and said with a smile, "I think I'm enjoying myself talk more than she is." I patted Cordy on the head and replied "Focus is hard for her. But trust me - she's happy."

We stopped by the kiosk on the way out to view our photo. I had no plans to buy a photo, but then I saw it on the screen. It's a memory of the first time Cordy has willingly met with Santa, and only the second time ever that all four of us have been in a photo together. (Seriously, I'm usually the one behind the camera. You'd have a hard time proving we're a family from photographic evidence alone.)

So we bought the big photo package, with multiple pictures for family members, two photo snowflake ornaments and the silly photo snowglobe. They totally made me fall for the moment of my two girls with Santa, even though Mira was upset, even though we were all in winter parkas, even thought Santa had a fake beard, even though we weren't all looking at the camera, even though it was painfully cold.

Cordy's willingness to accept the situation and not freak out was impressive and showed me just how fast she's growing up. And seeing my entire family together and (relatively) happy on that computer screen brought up a warm, happy feeling in me that dulled the sharp cold for that long walk back to the car. It was worth it.

Remember last week?
My efforts to find a good
photo were in vain

For to send out a
Christmas card, one must order
the cards in time. Duh.

I'm not that upset
One thing off my to-do list
is less stress for me

You know, I've had plenty on my plate lately. So I'm making the decision to not fight with a rush order of Christmas cards this year, paying extra for shipping and struggling to mail them in time. If people want to see pictures of my kids, they can come visit the blog. Or hey - here's a concept - stop by and see them live! Besides, I never do those long we never see you so here's what my family has done in the past year letters, so people aren't missing out on much.

It's freeing to realize I don't have to address 30 envelopes this year. (I've got bad handwriting anyway.) But now that load of holiday pressure on my shoulders has lightened enough that I won't collapse under it. And if anyone gets upset, I'll tell them I'm being environmentally conscious this year. Save a tree.

Truthfully, I've cut back on a lot of holiday decorating and preparation in an effort to save my sanity. We're using paper plates and cups for Christmas dinner to cut down on washing dishes. Aaron and I aren't participating in the adult Hanukkah gift exchange this year. And gift wrapping will involve a lot of gift bags and tissue paper, I think.

I still battle depression, and the Ghost of Holiday Stress that haunts many of us this time of year jabs at my dark mood with its glittery, red and white striped bah humbug stick. I don't need that.

My haiku today is also part of PBN's blog blast, partnering with FamilyAware.org, a non-profit organization offering free support and assistance to those feeling overwhelmed or depressed. (They are nice people - earlier this fall they helped me find some resources.) If you want to participate, write about how you are adapting your holiday preparations to keep from becoming overwhelmed before midnight tonight. Full details can be found at the PBN blog.


To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:

1. Write your own haiku on your blog. You can do one or many, all following a theme or just random. What's a haiku, you ask? Click here.

2. Sign the Mister Linky below with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your main blog URL). DON'T sign unless you have a haiku this week. If you need help with this, please let me know.

3. Pick up a Haiku Friday button to display on the post or in your sidebar by clicking the button at the top.

REMEMBER: Do not post your link unless you have a haiku this week! I will delete any links without haiku!

It wasn't until adulthood that I fully understood the stress of the holidays. As a kid it was easy - make Christmas lists asking for My Little Ponies and Castle Grayskull (I knew no gender boundaries), write Santa, craft some sentimental salt dough gift for my mom at school, try to be good, leave out cookies on Christmas Eve and open presents on Christmas Day.

I miss the old days sometimes. Especially my Castle Grayskull.

Now I have to clean the house to prepare for the onslaught of family on Christmas Day, shop for gifts, try to meet the wishes of a child who asks for such crazy things as "a yellow present and a bird present!", wrap them, put up decorations, send out holiday cards, prepare outfits for the girls, and on and on.

But the most stressful part of Christmas for me has to be when I'm asked, "So, what do you want for Christmas?" Ummm...I don't know.

It's not that hard for family. I can always rattle off some gift card options like Target to buy practical household stuff. Aaron, however, is the harder one. Because while I can't think of a single thing I really want as a gift, I still want him to get me something better than Legend on DVD. True story - that was my birthday gift several years ago. I should have read that as a sign that things weren't going well between us at that time, because while I like Legend, I wasn't mourning the fact that it was missing from my DVD collection.

The fault is almost entirely mine. I'm tough to shop for. Sure, I can look through catalog after catalog and point to several things that I like, but if asked if I want one of those items as a gift, I shrug and say, "Eh, I don't like it that much." Stuff is great, but there are few things that I really really want.

And although I try not to, I have high expectations. I want something sentimental - something to make me melt into a puddle of goo and think to myself It's perfect! He really knows me! (Especially considering how tough things have been between us this year.) Jewelry doesn't work unless there's a specific meaning behind it. Electronics, while always fun gifts, don't feel very special. And I want something special.

Clearly I watch too many romantic comedies.

I don't mind the holidays until I'm asked what I want. Then I become depressed and wish we could jump to January 1 and bypass the whole holiday gift thing. Giving gifts is fun. Receiving gifts is a little more stressful. Don't ask me what I want. I couldn't begin to give the right answer.

Besides, the real answer is I don't want to tell someone what to get me. I want to be surprised with the perfect gift. Screwed up, isn't it? It's no wonder we're in therapy.

I would also point out that normally Aaron is tough to shop for, too. Wait - that's not quite right. He's AMAZINGLY EASY to shop for, in the sense that he has several things he wants. But a video game or horror movie aren't very special, are they? Well, maybe a good classic Universal horror film might be special for him.

This year, however, his laptop decided that a monitor really isn't necessary now that the warranty has expired, and so most of his Christmas budget (and any monetary gifts he gets from others) will be going into a new laptop. He can then continue working without stealing my poor laptop, which can barely keep up with the demands I put on it.

So now Aaron is counting the days until Christmas, looking at me each day in frustration and asking "What do you WANT? You're impossible to shop for!"

Sorry, dear. Wish I had an answer for you. Is it January 1 yet?

Help me out, ladies - what do YOU want for Christmas, Hanukkah, Solstice, etc.?

Now that Aaron has this (ever-so-temporary) contract job, we thought it might be nice to have some health insurance again for the two of us. I researched all of the private insurance plans out there, mostly disgusted with 1. how expensive they were and 2. how little they covered. I finally chose one that seemed to be a good balance of cost vs. coverage.

When I first spoke with a customer service rep, I expressed concern that they would try to stick us with a bunch of riders to prevent coverage for anything useful. She assured me that as long as Aaron and I were relatively healthy people, there probably would be few changes from our medical review.

Apparently we differ in our definition of "relatively healthy".

I provided a very thorough medical history for both of us, leaving out nothing. Every detail was included, from lab values to drug lists. I considered us relatively healthy. I can't remember the last time Aaron went to the doctor for something other than an annual physical. I've had some minor problems (moles removed, sinus surgery, etc.), and we've both had minor issues with depression.

They insisted on bloodwork for Aaron because it had been over a year since his last physical. A nice tech came out to our house to do the bloodwork, remaining vague on if we will ever see the numbers. After waiting two weeks to find out the state of our health insurance (while they were still taking money from our bank account, of course), we finally received the offical certificate.

Included with the certificate were several riders. We were both denied any mental health coverage, including medications. (Note to others: if your doctor offers you antidepressants for anything, give serious thought to taking them. If you're ever forced to pay for private insurance, you might be denied or limited based on this one decision.) Anything dealing with previous conditions wouldn't be covered for 6 months. I would have to pay a $500 deductible for any prescription medications instead of the standard $150. And Aaron was completely denied any prescription drug benefits.

That last one puzzled me, so I called for clarification. "Well, they probably denied him because he is taking a very expensive medication."

"But he's not taking anything at the moment."

"Oh, well, he must have taken expensive medications in the past then."

"Nope. He's taken one prescription medication, and it's the one I'm currently on, and I wasn't denied."

"Well, then, there must be some other reason that they determined he was a poor financial risk for prescription medications."

"I'm confused. He doesn't take any medications, and prefers to not take them unless necessary. My history, on the other hand, shows I'm a walking formulary of drugs, yet I'm still being offered benefits."

She paused and I could hear the clicking of computer keys. "It's possible he was denied prescription benefits based on his bloodwork."

I explained that I needed to know the results of that test, and was promptly told no. I applied a little more pressure, and convinced her to at least tell me what values were outside of normal. But she would not give me the actual numbers, so really, the information was pretty useless. I mean, one point over normal is nothing but would still result in a high reading, but way over the normal values would be more serious.

I was told that I could submit $25 and a written request to a mailing address and might get a copy of the results. Apparently since they paid for the test, the insurance company isn't required to release the results to us. Screwed up, isn't it? I'm hoping we can get the results to determine if there's anything we should be concerned about.

(Which, if he does have a problem, how jacked is our insurance system that they would rather treat more serious (or life-threatening) complications of a condition via hospitalization rather than pay for the medication to keep it from becoming serious?)

We decided after all of the limitations, we'd be paying $300 a month for practically nothing. I canceled the policy and will instead put that same amount of money into a savings account each month. Contrary to the insurance company's belief, we're both relatively healthy and will likely not need much in the next 6 months. (Knocking on wood furiously...) At that point I'll graduate and will hopefully find a job with full benefits again. (Wait - need more wood to knock on now...)

If we do need anything, there are Minute Clinics and the like that charge a small amount to get minor illnesses taken care of. Our doctors will also accept a smaller cash payment to be seen.

I never thought buying private health insurance would be so difficult. Makes nationalized health care look dreamy. (I'm looking at you, Canada.) Here's hoping the next administration can figure out a solution - or at least the beginning of a solution - to our screwed up system.

I'd guess that I'm looking forward to 2009 more than the average person. With all of the bad we've had this year, I'm planning to consider that big ball in Times Square on Dec. 31 my executioner's axe, cutting off all of the frustration, the anger, the worry and the heartbreak of 2008 and leaving it behind as we embrace the new year.

Which means I'd better start working on a plan for 2009.

I'm a lousy planner, I'll admit. Something inside of me wants desperately to be organized - always aware of everything coming up and never found scraping things together at the last minute. But no matter how much I want to be that way, I eventually go back to being the girl who flies by the seat of her (worn thrice because she forgot to do laundry) pants.

One benefit of nursing school is that it forces me to organize. We are taught to prioritize and organize our day so the insurmountable mountain of tasks is whittled down to an acceptable level without the need to stay late. Prioritizing is probably the one skill out of all of the organization skills that I've taken a liking to.

It's far too easy for me to hop from one project to whatever crosses my mind next, never stopping to think about if that new task is really important enough to override other items on my to-do list. That task is soon followed by another mental burst to go do something else, often leaving task #2 unfinished. (ADD much? My doctor even agrees with me now.)

2009 will be my year of the priority list. I've made every attempt to not turn into my mom and aunts with their neurotic ability to make list after list for everything from groceries to gift lists to who to call. But I have to admit - lists are helpful. Less helpful, though, is a jumbled to-do list that ranks throw away the Christmas lights that don't work higher than buy cat food so your poor pets don't walk out on you and charge you with neglect only because I thought of it first while writing.

Hopefully keeping prioritized (maybe color coded? Hmmm...might need to consider that idea) lists will help me stay on track. And we all know I need it. Like most moms, I have a lot of different hats to wear, and each has its own set of responsibilities. I'm responsible for paying the bills, some housework, Cordy's school notices and permission slips, my schoolwork and clinical time, doctor appts. for both kids, setting up therapy appts. for Cordy, any type of appointments for me, grocery shopping, three blogs, three cats, two kids and a partridge in a pear tree. OK, the last one isn't true. But I do have to keep the birdfeeder filled with birdseed.

(Let's not even begin to count things I'd like to do, such as paint some of the rooms in our house and hang shit on the walls so I won't feel like I'm still living in my old college apartment.)

Who knows? Maybe tackling tasks in an organized manner will give me a little more time in my life? I could think of a lot of uses for a little more spare time.

I could probably make a list of all of those free time ideas, too.

This post is part of the last PBN blog blast of the year, sponsored by Big Tent. Here's hoping we all have a more organized 2009.

We need a Christmas
card picture, but getting both
kids to smile is hard.

This one is cute but
too bad the cat knocked the lamp
onto Mira's head


Another try: one
isn't smiling and one is
looking away...sigh


Let's try again. One
still looking away, one with
mouth full of cookie


C'mon girls, smile!
Wait! Stop choking your sister
Cordy! No headlocks!

(Ya gotta click on this one to see Mira's expression up close.)

The only time they
sit together is when they
are eating cookies

So every attempt
shows two mouths covered in fine
layers of brown crumbs

I give up. I'll have
to rely on Picnik to
create a good pic.

I always thought it was difficult to get a good picture of Cordy for our holiday cards each year. Turns out, having two kids isn't twice as hard - it's about 649 times as hard. Like trying to wrangle dinosaurs through your great-grandmother's miniature glass animal collection.

And for some reason, the only time I can get these two to sit next to each other is if there are cookies involved. If I should wipe their mouths off, the moment is gone and they won't even stay in the same part of the room. Thank goodness for photo editing.


To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:

1. Write your own haiku on your blog. You can do one or many, all following a theme or just random. What's a haiku, you ask? Click here.

2. Sign the Mister Linky below with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your main blog URL). DON'T sign unless you have a haiku this week. If you need help with this, please let me know.

3. Pick up a Haiku Friday button to display on the post or in your sidebar by clicking the button at the top.

REMEMBER: Do not post your link unless you have a haiku this week! I will delete any links without haiku!

When I sorted through the mail this afternoon, I was struck by a small card addressed to me. Ah, the first Christmas card of the season! I thought. I looked it over, not finding a return address. Strange.

The real surprise came when I opened the envelope. (Actually, it had been opened already on the side - not sure if some postal worker carefully ripped it open or our moist weather split the seam. I'm guessing the latter.) Inside was a simple holiday wishes card, and 5 $20 bills. Wait, what? $100! I quickly scanned the inside of the card to see who sent this, but there was no name.

I was completely confused for a moment. Who sent us a card and forgot to sign it? It was then that Aaron pointed out that it was only addressed to me and it was from Chattanooga, TN. It was most likely not from any family.

An anonymous gift of $100. Wow.

So, in the very likely case that my secret Santa reads this blog, I'd like to say thank you. Your gift was amazing and generous and worthy of the tears that came to my eyes.

And with practically no hesitation, I decided I'm planning to use part of the money to pass on your random act of kindness to others. 2008 has quite possibly been the suckiest year I've ever had, but I think we can agree this has been a disastrous year for many. Yet we've kept our house thus far, and while we still have no long-term employment or health insurance (except for the kids, thanks to SCHIP), Aaron has a contract job that is providing a decent income for last month and this month, and we have great family and friends who are incredibly supportive. Looking at all of that, we're wealthy compared to many.

I'm planning to invest at least half of this gift into formula and diapers for my local YWCA. They are one of the few family shelters in Columbus, where entire families can remain together while they try to get back on their feet. I first learned about their services last month while in my nursing school clinical. At the hospital I cared for a woman who told me she was living at the YWCA shelter with her husband and kids. I asked a few questions and found out they both had good full time jobs, but then both were laid off, and soon after their house was foreclosed on when they couldn't find new jobs. It spiraled down until they found themselves at a shelter so they weren't sleeping in their car.

In different circumstances, my family could be that family. The YWCA provides so many services for these families with nowhere else to go, including childcare, in-house tutors and after-school programs for older kids, meals, and employment assistance. Right now on their website, they are asking for diapers and other baby supplies, as their current demand is outpacing their supply. They received 2000 diapers last month, but needed over 2500.

I also want to help them because of an article I read recently about mothers watering down formula to make it last longer, often leading to infant malnutrition and life-threatening conditions as a result. Many moms don't realize that cutting formula with more water is dangerous. But due to the economic conditions, formula is hard to buy, hard to keep in stock at food banks, and is now such a prized possession that it's being stolen in record numbers. I can't imagine stealing anything, but were I desperate and had an infant who needed food, I would probably steal formula to make sure she could eat.

While my girls have lots of "wants" (Cordy's change daily, it seems), I know their needs are met. Using a large portion of this gifted money to help other children's needs seems like the right thing to do. I hope you're OK with that, anonymous gifter. I promise I'll use a little bit of it for something for myself, and the girls will each get a small gift, too. But I'd like to use most of it to continue the spirit of giving. I've been wishing I could do more to help those who are so desperate for the basic necessities, and your gift is helping make that possible for me.

Thanks again. I'm genuinely touched by this random act of kindness and humbled that someone thought I deserved this. Whoever you are, you rock.

(And yes, I'll admit I'm really curious who this is from, mostly because I'm wondering who has my address?)

(And to everyone else - have you practiced a random act of kindness lately?)

(One more parentheses and I'm done, I swear: visit Her Bad Mother to see how she's giving back to those more needy, including offering up an iPod to her readers. Plus there's a great Charlie Brown clip.)

Sometimes in parenting, it's the small victories that mean the most. Today we had one of those moments:



That's Cordy, drinking with a straw. For the first time ever.

It was three years ago (she was 15 months) that we were struggling with weaning her off of a bottle while she stubbornly refused to try a sippy cup. I eventually convinced her that she could obtain liquid from a sippy cup, but her condition was that I had to hold it for her.

She held it on her own at 19 months.

For over a year now Operation: Remove Sippy Cup has been in effect, and until today it was an utter failure. She refused to drink anything unless it was in a sippy cup, and it had to be in only one brand of sippy cup, too. A brand which, incidentally, they changed the design for last year, making it impossible to buy any new cups. And she considers the redesign a different type of cup.

I don't know if you are aware of the life span of a sippy cup, but it doesn't last forever. Eventually it becomes worn and small bits of black mold try to form in the moist crevices after it's 2-3 years old. Cordy's small collection of sippy cups have been washed thousands of times, and bleached more than a few to remove any beginnings of mold. We've had to declare three of them complete losses when they were left behind a sofa or in the car for more than a few days and no amount of bleach would remove the mold that started growing. Which leaves us with only 5 sippy cups, and no hope of reinforcements.

So you can see why we've been urging her to leave the sippy behind and try something else. At school they've convinced her to drink from an open cup, but it has to be the size of a Dixie cup and it can only be at school. Straws have never been an option.

(I should mention at this point that Mira has been drinking from a straw since 9 months old. The resentment of having a younger sib show her up must take a few more years to develop.)

Cordy's autism plays a small part in this. I know many kids are stubborn - this is a problem that any parent could have. But Cordy has a preternatural fear of change. The slightest shift to her schedule or the objects in her life can ruin any tranquility in our house. We have to gently push her towards change, ever so slightly, trying to maintain the balance between drawing her out beyond her fears and losing her for a time as she retreats inside her own mind.

So how did we manage this feat? The promise of ice cream. Bribes work on any kid. OK, well, bribes never worked for this before now. Hey, I don't care how it worked.

Of course, tomorrow she may refuse to look at a straw. We'll see. But for now I'm thrilled.

Maybe potty training will come next?

It's been decided that Christmas will be held at our house again this year. It's a tradition that my family has long held, actually. When I was young, my mom was the only one from her family who had a child (both my aunts never married or had children), and so Christmas was always held at our house to make it easier on her. I never understood how that made it easier until I had kids of my own. Not having to get up early to get the kids ready, pack bags, get food ready to transport, pack the gifts, etc. - it really is easier to stay home.

And so the tradition has continued that the person who has the kids hosts Christmas. I don't even have to cook unless I want to - the majority of the food is purchased now. Since my family is fairly laid back, we even let the kids stay in their PJs until after presents are opened.

One tradition that I kinda miss is having the family play games together after dinner. While my grandmother tidied up (because she can't let any dirty dish escape her) my aunts, my mom and I would clear off the table and break out the board games. Every holiday meal was digested while playing a board game or card game of some sort.

Some of the games were a lot of fun. I could usually win at Uno, and a little mystery game called Scotland Yard was perfect for my family of smart problem solvers. Occasionally we'd pull out Monopoly, but since the average game of Monopoly takes roughly 4.5 days to complete (played all the way through, not just until people walk away out of frustration because one person has hotels on half the board and doesn't give discount rates) it was often left in the closet.

The one game that always came out at Christmas, however, was Trivial Pursuit. In a family of smart people, this was the game of choice. Colors would be chosen - I was always the blue circle - and the battle would begin. Mom and Aunt Lynn put up a good fight, and I held my own for being a child, but the winner of every. single. game was my Aunt Dona.

I should point out that Aunt Dona isn't just a natural genius. She has a Masters of Library Science and a PhD in Middle Eastern Studies. She's lived in three countries and can read Arabic. So you can assume that she has a bit of an edge over everyone else. No matter the category, she knew the answer, often filling up her circle before I had my second pie piece.

Occasionally the game got boring when she would answer 20 questions in a row correctly, traveling from one side of the board to the other and back, collecting pie slices while the rest of us wondered if it was time for dessert yet. As I got older, we bought expansion sets for the game to keep the questions fresh - 80's Edition, Welcome to America expansion, Genus II, Junior edition, etc. But no matter what expansion set we bought, Aunt Dona was the master of general knowledge.

However, I miss playing Trivial Pursuit. Even though I never won a game, I was always willing to jump in and fight for a chance to win. The competitive spirit was there regardless. Maybe this year I'll pull the old faded and worn leather storage case out of the closet, dust off the board, and challenge everyone to a round of Trivial Pursuit this Christmas.

Too bad they don't have a Preschoolers' Pop Culture expansion to give me a chance at winning - I'm sure I could top everyone in my knowledge of Blue's Clues, Backyardigans and Disney movies.

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Hey, want to win some games? This post is part of a PBN blog blast, sponsored by Electronic Arts, ending tonight at midnight. Hurry to get your post in for your chance to win an armload of fun games.

Two more exams are
between me and the end of
this quarter of school

I was crazy to
think that statistics would be
not much extra work

With my days being
so full, I often forget
I'm a student too

One nursing class and
one math class have me thankful for
ending this quarter

Assuming I pass
these exams, two more quarters
until I'm all done

And best of all: I'll
never take more than one class
at a time again

Why I ever thought I could take statistics while deep into my nursing program I'll never know. I put it off for way too long - taking this class before I started the formal program, and before I had two kids, would have been the wiser choice.

But after three months of multi-tasking hell, the end is in sight. Two more exams, one for each class, must be taken in the next five days. Once those are done, I can relax and enjoy the three weeks off before classes begin again. Yep, three weeks off, with only my family and my blogging to keep me occupied. (OK, maybe it's not so much of a break.)

Two more quarters, two more classes, and then I'm done.


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I can't say that I'm someone who never wins anything. When I was younger I had really lousy luck and couldn't win a contest even if I bought all but one of the tickets.

Over the past few years, though, I've had better luck. While I usually win small prizes, like a book or a pair of shoes (still very useful prizes!), earlier this year I won a $200 gift card from Elizabeth at Table For Five to help with textbooks for nursing school. And then last week, Parent Bloggers e-mailed me to let me know I won the blog blast shopping spree for Oliebollen.com.

I'm not one to get outwardly giddy over anything, and at first I was kinda stunned. I won a shopping spree? I had 12 hours to visit the website and choose up to five items with a total value of $400 or less. As I perused all they had to offer, that excited feeling from deep inside began to build, until I was annoying Aaron all evening with, "Should I get the fancy diaper bag or the Melissa & Doug castle? I've only got four more hours left to decide!!"

(As you can probably guess, his response was less than helpful. I think it was something like, "I don't care, pick out what you want!")

So after a lot of hand-wringing and having the "practical versus fun" debate with myself over and over, I decided on my five items. Here's what I picked:

For Mira, a Daily Tea dress and pants.


I've always loved this brand, but like other favorite brands of mine (Hanna Andersson, anyone?), I can rarely justify the expense.

For Cordy, a dress so expensive (although on sale right now at Oliebollen!) that I would have never considered it if I was using my own money, because we could pay the electric bill with that kind of money.

I love this dress - with her pale skin and blonde hair, she'll look stunning in this. And it's probably the only time she'll have a dress this expensive until her Senior Prom.

For both girls (mostly Mira, though), a Rody jumping horse.


They'll never get a pony, no matter how much they ask. But this is a cute substitution.

And for me, a Fleurville sling tote diaper bag.


I've always heard moms rave about these diaper bags, and while I've drooled over some of the gorgeous designs, they've been out of my reach. But since I now had the chance to splurge, I figured it's time I gave myself a little gift, too.

I should point out that the site has lots of other fun toys and clothing that aren't quite as expensive as these. I wanted to maximize my shopping spree. Go big, right?

Big thanks to Parent Bloggers and Oliebollen for the contest! Now I'm going to hope my luck holds as I try to enter all 50 HP giveaways - have you seen these? LOADS of HP computer equipment is being given away! Winning a new laptop would be awesome.

Last November (2007), a note was sent home from preschool letting us know about the upcoming school picture day. Cordy had only been in school for a little over a month - placed there after making quite an impact at her developmental evaluation - and was still in the phase where she trusted no one and screamed whenever I dropped her off at school each day.

I knew Cordy didn't like new experiences. The smallest sensory disturbance would set her off into epic meltdowns. She was fearful of bright lights, loud noises, and strange people. So when they announced picture day, I worried how she might react.

The report from her teacher that day was the story of a struggle. It took over an hour to even coax her into the darkened room with the bright flash. She had split her bottom lip that morning from a post-breakfast meltdown, leaving it slightly swollen and red. Long after the other kids flashed smiles and moved on, her teacher continued to work with her to preserve this moment.

Cordy, as she was at that point in time, was clearly displayed in the picture that resulted:


And now a year later, the new photo displays a different Cordy. A Cordy who has ever so gradually learned to cope with the sensory onslaught around her, tempered her emotions to avoid meltdowns most days, and occasionally does what is asked of her.

She still sees this world as a scary place, but she's coming out of her own little world, ever so slowly, and reaching out to put trust in others. You can look at her face and see how these small changes over the past year have made a difference.


There's still much work to do, but the progress so far has been impressive. I truly believe Cordy wants to free herself completely from that barrier surrounding her and keeping her from fully participating in the world around her. And our hands are firmly grasping hers, doing our best to lead her out of the fog and refusing to let go.

Early on Saturday morning, two women showed up at our door with folders of papers and a little tackle box full of toys. They were here to do the full evaluation on Mira's developmental progress. As they walked in, Cordy gave a loud "happy Halloween!" greeting to them (she still hasn't figured out that Halloween is over), and Mira peered at them from behind my legs.

Aaron took Cordy upstairs for a bath so she wouldn't disturb the evaluation, and I sat down on the floor with them as they began with a basic puzzle of two shapes and the holes to put them in. Mira quickly figured it out, but refused to take them back out of the puzzle and give them to the occupational therapist (OT).

When she put a Cheerio in a little bottle and handed it to Mira, she quickly turned it upside down to get the Cheerio out. But before the OT could say, "Now put it back in the bottle" Mira had already shoved it in her mouth. She took out another Cheerio and gave it to Mira, this time getting as far as "Can you put it in-" before Mira again popped it into her mouth. The third Cheerio was eaten as well. That's my girl - she likes to eat.

She did pretty well on gross motor skills and fine motor skills, so the primary focus became communication. The speech therapist asked me several questions about how I interacted with her - do I repeat words, do I correct her if she mispronounces something, do I ask her to say what she wants when she points to it? In short, do I actually bother to talk to my child? Well, of course I do. I'm a blogger - I'm full of words.

None of the questions bothered me, until I was asked, "Has she said the typical first words? Mama, dada?" I looked down at Mira with a touch of sadness. "No, she has yet to say those."

They both tried to persuade her to talk, but other than a few "nooo"s and some squeals and shrieks when they tried to make her do something she didn't want to do, she remained mute. She also refused to play along with many of their games - a trait that seems to run in our family. After 45 minutes, they packed everything up, said they would need to score her evaluation at the office, and unceremoniously left. My only regret is that she didn't smile or laugh for them even once, just gave them her icy stare. She's really a goofy kid, but it's a side of her that she refuses to show to strangers.

The call came this evening. Based on their evaluation, they've determined that Mira has a speech delay and will begin receiving therapy for it. They were especially concerned with her expressive language, but also a little concerned with her receptive language. I'm sure the receptive language perception was due to her disinterest in their games, because she responds to many things I tell her to do. OK, not that many - she does choose to ignore me when she doesn't want to hear what I'm saying.

After we got the news, Aaron and I looked at each other and shrugged. There were no surprises here. We know she doesn't talk, and that otherwise she's a fairly typical 18 month old. As I've said before, compared to what we've already gone through with Cordy, this doesn't seem all that bad. Even if Mira never speaks (practically impossible, I know), she's a bright girl who knows how to get her message across. She has the will and temperment to demand anything she wants in life, even without saying a word. This is nothing more than a bump in the road.