"OK, sweetie, give me a pretty smile and show me what four years old looks like!"

...

Yep, that sums it up pretty well. 

Four.

How is it possible that my baby is four years old today? It seems like only a short time ago that she was cradled in my arms, the needy baby who insisted that she was always attached to me. She lived her first year in my arms or strapped to me in some way. And while she is more independent now, she still comes to me every evening, asking, "Can I sit wif you?"

At the same time, I wonder how it's possible that only four years have passed since Mira joined our family? It's hard to remember a time when she wasn't babbling loudly about some random subject, taunting her older sister, spinning in circles until she falls down, or stomping her foot in protest at some slight.

Mira is convinced she can do anything, and telling her no only encourages her to try it. That would be why my brand new can of sunscreen is empty after she found it one morning and applied "just three sprays" to herself and everything around her, draining the can.

When scolded, you can see her deep in thought, already trying to determine how to get out of the situation and working on what to do next. She has no shame in approaching anyone - even strangers - and attempting to manipulate them to get what she wants. But just when you reach your breaking point with her, she swoops in with an, "I wuv you" and a hug and completely disarms you.
 
Despite her speech apraxia, Mira talks nonstop. She will repeat herself several times if you don't acknowledge her the first time - although acknowledging what she said only leads her to continue on to a new tangent. But practice does make perfect, and her speech is getting better and better, even if I do wish she'd understand that silence is occasionally a Good Thing.

At four years old, she's already had a boyfriend. She's already determined she wants to be a mail carrier or a train engineer when she grows up, and plans to drive a pink car. And she plans to be a mommy, too.

She's my social butterfly. My drama queen. My force of nature. (Tsunami? Hurricane, maybe?) The child who will keep my stylist in business from needing to color over all of the grey hairs she gives me. The girl with the pretty curls and long eyelashes who will likely keep Aaron up late at night when she's out with friends as a teen.

As much as I laugh at how stubborn and unruly Mira can be, I love how aware she is of everything around her. She's funny and knows how to say just the right thing at just the right time. She never forgets anything said to her. She has an eye for fashion and loves to pick out her own clothing. (Pink, of course.) Her favorite animals are polar bears and she never falls asleep without her precious pink stuffed polar bear tight in her arms.

  And her tiara.

Happy birthday, Mira. You're four years old now, but that doesn't mean you get to drive yet. Sorry, little girl, you have to wait to grow up. But trust me: enjoy being small while you can, because you'll have a lot of time to be an adult. And you can't just smile and say "I wuv you" to get out of trouble as an adult.
 

 Yeah, you're pretty cute...

 ...but every boy you bring home will be required to view this photo of you.

We're less than two weeks away from the end of the school year in our district. While I should probably be focused on what on earth I plan to do with my children during the summer months (answer: summer camp for most days), I'm actually already looking ahead to the next school year.

Cordy started kindergarten in a way that I wasn't all that happy with. I had big hopes that she would be deemed "ready" to be placed in a mainstream kindergarten class, having conquered the difficulties brought on from autism.

I occasionally have to remind myself that autism is for life, and many of the challenges it can cause don't vanish into the mist with a little therapy.

So I grudgingly agreed with the school assessment that she should be placed in a special-needs classroom and given some "inclusion" time with the typical kids. I feared it would mean that she wouldn't get much time in the other class and would only drive her further away from normal.

I'll admit I was wrong. Cordy has done very well in her class this year. Her teacher has put in a tremendous amount of work to help her cope with social situations, coach her through her anxieties, and encourage her to spend time in the typical kindergarten class. She's coaxed Cordy into showing what she knows academically (Cordy is very shy about demonstrating any talent), sharing that she can read at a second grade level and will likely qualify for the gifted education program. And Cordy now spends up to half the school day in the mainstream classroom with few problems.

Why am I concerned with next year then? Easy - I've been anxious over determining where she belongs next year.

Cordy is academically advanced for most first grade subjects. Letting her go to a mainstream first grade class would challenge her socially, but would mean she didn't get the academic challenge she needs. On the other hand, keeping her in a special-needs class would guarantee more specialized academic education, but she wouldn't get the social challenge she needs.

It's a dilemma.

Luckily, Cordy's amazing kindergarten teacher may have come through for us again. She told us that one teacher will have a "split" class next year, meaning it will be made up of a mix of first and second grade kids. Her suggestion is to have Cordy attend that class, while still staying on the homeroom roster for the special-needs classroom.

Here's how it would work: Cordy would check in with her special needs teacher each morning, then go to class in the mixed grade classroom, where she'd get both the social challenge of being with typical peers and the academic challenge of being in a class that also has second graders. She would be a member of that class, but if she had any problems she could go back to the special-needs class for however long was needed to address the issue that day.

On paper...err, e-mail...it appears to be a fantastic option. I've asked to meet the new teacher and hope to do so in the next week to finalize the details of this plan. To say that I'm thrilled that a split class has been formed would be an understatement. A mixed age group is exactly what Cordy needs - ideally, we would have sent her to a Montessori school, but private schools are outside of our budget.

Of course, a lot of the credit for getting this plan in place has to go to my sweet, hard working, preternaturally charming Cordelia. It helps that she has the entire school enchanted with her, from the principal who made an exception to keep her at that school, to other teachers who have declared they want her in their classes when she's older. Not only has she put forth a lot of effort this year to practice the bizarre (to her) social requirements of society, she's also fought back some of her stubbornness to allow herself to be taught, all while keeping up her aura of charisma.

For being socially awkward, she sure knows how to reel them in to get what she needs.

Did I mention goofy? That too.

I'm hopeful for the next school year - more hopeful than I've ever been, I think.

I've had a lot on my plate lately, so rather than explain in long narrative, I'll give it to you in bullet points to save you the time:

• Two weeks ago, we got the note home from school that no parent ever wants: head lice. Mira had been exposed to lice in her classroom, and they found nits on her. (Itchy yet? I am.) I had been a lice virgin until now (thank you, Cordy, for never wearing another kid's hat!), so I bought all the lice remedies, we did the treatment on Mira, cleaned all the linens and stuffed animals, combed and looked through her hair carefully, etc. No one else had been exposed - yay!
  
  
• Same week, after having the brakes replaced on the car, the battery decided to die. The car now has another month added on to how long it must keep running as penance for the money we spent on the new battery.
  
  
• I also got a note from my agency (I'm a contractor) telling me they accidentally forgot to take city taxes out of my paycheck all of last year. Oops! And so they need to take a year's worth out now. Like all in one month. I bargained them down to splitting it across 4 paychecks over 2 months, but it's still going to hurt.
  
  
• Last week, Mira had nits again. Noooooooooo! (Seriously, click the link - it's exactly how I felt.) Lather, rinse, comb, laundry, vacuum, repeat.
  
  
• Thanks to a combination of factors, last week was also the first week where I've ever slept less than 5 hours every single day. It sucked, but I'm trying to look at it as a badge of honor - I survived!
  
  
• I also had my first experience at ever totally losing my cool at a customer service rep on the phone. (Maybe due to the lack of sleep and stress, perhaps?) We thought switching cable providers would give us better service. But after placing the order and spending 2+ hours on the phone across different days trying to sort it all out before it had even been installed, I was losing hope that this was a better option. When they then gave me a different - higher - price than I was originally given, saying it could all be worked out after installation, I lost it and demanded they cancel the entire order. It wasn't the rep's fault, and I try to never take it out on them, but the poor guy must have thought I was bipolar by the way I turned on him.
  
  
• A week later, I still haven't been refunded the first month's payment they charged me. And they sent me a "Your installation is complete! Welcome to our service!" e-mail today, too. More yelling may be coming soon.
  
  
• Then the kitchen sink faucet broke. Water goes everywhere if you turn it on.
  
  
• The garbage disposal followed shortly after that. Looking into plumbing recommendations now.
  
  
• On Monday I developed strep throat, although I didn't know that's what it was until the next day. Swallowing still hurts. Ordered to stay home for 24 hours until the antibiotics kicked in. Enjoyed the sleep, but didn't enjoy missing a night of work and falling behind.
  
  
• And Mira was sent home with lice nits again yesterday. Dammit. Treat, comb, laundry, vacuum.... if it doesn't work this time, I'm shaving her head and burning down the house.

To sum up: it's been a busy few weeks. I don't remember my fortune cookie cursing me with "May you live in interesting times" the last time I had Chinese for dinner.

It's been said that bloggers hate when they have nothing going on, and therefore have nothing to write about. I've actually got too much happening to write about all of it, and most of it is stuff no one wants to hear the long version of.

I'd be happy to have a little boredom around here for once.

Scene: In the car the other day.

Cordy: Mama, it will be Mother's Day soon. What kind of present do you want?

Me: I don't know. What do you think I'd like?

Mira: Mommy, you like flowers!

Me: Well, yeah, flowers are OK I guess.

Cordy: No, Mira! Mommy likes chocolates more! You want chocolates for Mother's Day, right?

Me: Ummm...I am trying to diet...

Mira: Flowers! Mommy wants flowers!

Cordy: Chocolates!

Mira: Flooooowers!

Cordy: Chooooocolates!

Me: What about sleep? I'd like that for Mother's Day.

Mira: Mommy, that's not a present!

Me: Oh, you'd be surprised what mommies would consider presents...

Later...

Cordy: Mama, I know what your present will be! Us! We're your presents, mommy!

Me: Well, yes, but actually, you're the reason I get presents on Mother's Day.

Cordy: (panic in her voice) But we can't get you anything because the Toys R Us doesn't have anything you like!

Me: Um...well, I guess that's true...

Cordy: So if you don't like anything from the Toys R Us, we won't have anything to give you! Can't you like a toy that we like, and then we can get you that?

Me: I think you're missing the point now...

---

After that conversation, I'm a little scared to think what will be waiting for me on Mother's Day. It'll either be nothing, flowers, chocolates, or a new Thomas & Friends train set with some easy reader Backyardigans books.

Note to self: teach my children what "spa" means and why mommies like it.

And I still argue that sleep can be a present.

(I don't like to do this, but I'm totally calling out a company for bad service. Actually, make that dangerous service.)

We are a family of two cars - one small sedan and one SUV. The rule is that we run them until they die, and then we replace the dead one with another similar in style. That means we usually only have one car payment to worry about, although we are often playing the game of "When will this car decide it's done?" as we squeeze the last drops of life from it.

Our current sedan is the very first new car I ever purchased on my own. It's a 2000 model and currently has 189,000 miles on it. Yes, I've tried to take good care of it to get it to this point. The dealer is fairly far from our house, so for the last year or two we've been taking both cars to NTB (National Tire & Battery, a division of Tire Kingdom) for minor services because it's just down the road.

A few months ago, I had taken the sedan to NTB for service, and while there they told me the brakes would need to be replaced soon. I asked if it needed to be done that day, and they told me it could wait a little longer. Having no money to get it done at that time, I was glad to hear we could wait a little longer.

Fast forward to mid-week last week. The sedan had started making a grinding sound when braking (aka: we may have waited a little too long), so we took it back to NTB and asked them to replace the brakes and rotors. They took the keys and told us it would be done by the end of the day.

When Aaron came back to get the car, they told him that they didn't change the brakes because the brakes were fine. We were completely puzzled by this - didn't they tell us last time they needed replaced? And if they were fine, what was that grinding sound? The mechanic told Aaron that the pads were fine and the brakes just had a rust ring on them that was causing the grinding noise. He advised us to "ride the brakes hard" to help clear off the rust and said nothing more needed done at this time. We trusted this assessment and left, happy to save some money.

But the story doesn't end there. That grinding sound? It only got worse. In fact, braking seemed to get harder - I felt like I had to shove my foot through the floor to brake. I couldn't be reassured by the diagnosis that our brakes were fine. I've been with this car for most of its 189,000 miles - I know when something feels wrong.

Being the constant worrier, I asked Aaron to take it to a different mechanic for a second opinion. On Sunday he took it to a different local shop, asking them to check our brakes. At that point an entirely different story about our brakes was relayed to us. The brake pads still had thickness on the outside, but the inside of each pad was shot. We could see the rotors were damaged, and the calipers needed replaced as well. We were lucky that we hadn't suffered a complete brake failure before bringing it to them.

So one day and $640 later, my little sedan was fitted with a new brake system that doesn't make a peep (or grind) and kicks in with the smallest amount of pressure on the pedal. And at 189,000 miles, it runs like it's barely at 100,00 miles. I didn't like spending all the money on it, but I'm so thankful to the second mechanic (Firestone, if you'd like to know) for taking the time to properly inspect the brakes and show us exactly what the problem was.

I can't say for certain if NTB carelessly neglected to do a full inspection of the brakes and instead only took a quick glance at the outside of them, or if they lied to us because they were busy that day. Either way, I'm horrified that such neglect for safety was displayed by NTB. We trusted them to keep our car maintained so that it was safe to drive, and they let us down in a dangerous way.

What would have happened had we continued to listen to their advice? Would we have continued being hard on the brakes, trying to wear off that rust, until one day we press the pedal and get no response as we slam into whatever is in front of us due to brake failure? What if our daughters had been in the car with us? We could have been hurt, could have hurt others, could have been killed...

There are certain occupations that we must place our trust in for our safety. We trust our police to keep our neighborhoods safe. We trust our doctors to make the right diagnosis to keep us healthy. We trust cooks to prepare and handle food safely to keep us from getting sick. We trust engineers and architects to design safe structures for us to dwell in and travel on.

As a nurse, were I to give the wrong medication to a patient that risked a life-threatening reaction, you can bet I'd have to deal with some serious consequences. I could lose my job or even my license. I could also be sued if I caused harm to that patient. But I know how important my job is, and in that case I'd check and double check to make sure I had the correct medication for the correct patient, because that person's safety is in my hands.

Mechanics are part of that trusted group as well. If our vehicles aren't given proper safety inspections, our lives are at risk. We trust those mechanics to properly service our cars and tell us when something is a safety risk.

NTB destroyed our trust last week and I'm still very upset at the risk they exposed my family to through their neglect. Small mistakes are forgiveable, but life-threatening mistakes cannot be brushed aside.

I'll be blunt: we will never use them again, and I caution others to think twice before you put your car and your safety into their hands. Just because it's close by and convenient doesn't mean it's safe.