Dryer

So our dryer is PA.THE.TIC. I have to run it 2 to 4 times to get the clothes/towels actually dry. If, perchance, I forget to run it the third or fourth time it starts smelling all manky in my laundry room and I have to wash that load again. It makes for long days of laundry around here. Arrrrrrrrrrrggggg! [Release pent-up breath.] I finally put in a maintenance request to have the vent from our laundry room to the outside world flushed. I wasn't getting my hopes up because I've done that before and my dryer still stunk (in more than one way). When the maintenance man came to my door today to do some work on this end of the vent he told me that he had already removed a bird's nest from the outer vent. Hmmmm. I really hope that means that my dryer starts working better. Cross your fingers!

Suit

Maya and I went with John to the mall today--yes, you heard me right, the mall--to get him a new suit. He has been meaning to do this for at least six months (I gave up nagging him after the first two months). So when he planned the whole thing of his own accord, I was happy to go along. We got him a suit, a shirt, a snazzy tie, and a belt. His suit is being altered, so I'll get a photo as soon as I can. He was very well-bahaved and it turned out to be a fun family outing (usually shopping with John involves a lot of eye rolling and head-shaking and shoulder-tensing on my part and a lot of whining and teasing on his--I therefore, NEVER take him grocery shopping anymore, or any kind of shopping really, and I'm not even kidding--I'm sure that was his plan in the first place). Maya was adorable this morning while we were getting ready to go out the door. She saw that I was doing my hair (yes, DOING MY HAIR), and of her own accord she pulled clothes out of a basket of clean-and-yet-to-be-folded clothing (there are a lot of those around here), took off her pajamas, let me change her diaper, and asked for help getting her new clothes on. Then she got on her own Sunday shoes and her backpack and just waited around for me to finish. She also said "Oma and Opa" a few times. I've been pretty sick this weekend and we haven't gotten out much. I think she is starting to get a little stir crazy. We had fun!

Today

So my day went something like this: 

1. I did a bunch of cleaning and errands.
2. I made lunch and perfectly timed everything to finish for Maya's nap. 
3. Maya went down for a nap demurely enough.
4. Half an hour later I hear Maya crying and screaming in her room.
5. I run in to see that she has a bloody nose. Through her tears she tells me "Tissue. Nose." I take this to mean that she has taken a tiny piece of tissue, balled it up, and stuffed it so far up her nose that it is past the point of no return. She then gave herself a bloody nose trying to get it out. (I know all of this because she performed the same stunt a few days ago--sans bloody nose--and I only found out about about it because she sneezed and along with a string of snot came a little ball of kleenex. I thought the scolding I gave her was enough to dissuade her from such unsavory and unsafe habits. (Ok, back up, she actually stuffed a tissue up her nose last week, and I laughed and took a picture. But, it got a lot less cute when she started using smaller pieces and began pushing them further in.)
6. I called my pediatrician brother to see if I needed to take her in. 
7. He said no.
8. Bless him.
9. While talking to my brother, Maya started balling up another tissue to insert into her nasal cavity.
10. His wife asked me why she was doing that.
11. 
12. Naptime, therefore, did not happen at our house.
13. We went over for a playdate at 4:00 which was a blessed relief.
14. Two minutes before leaving our friend's house, Maya had a full-blown meltdown with flailing limbs and everything.
15. We came home, ate dinner, and Maya was in bed at 6:50.
16. I am now eating chocolate chip cookies while blog stalking my friends. 
17. Yep. It's definitely been one of those days.

Tidbits

I just barely downloaded pictures from my point-and-shoot camera, and I found these lovely shots from our Christmas break.

Mama and Maya

Annual Christmas dinner with the P family 

I got to visit my friend and former co-worker Danielle in her new and BEAUTIFUL home.

The Muppets

We took Maya to her first movie on Saturday: The Muppets. She sat quietly as long as we kept refilling her lap-napkin with popcorn, so that means about half the movie. For the second half she got up and down and changed laps a few times, not really fussing, just restless. Then we got ice cream cones at McDonald's. It was a lovely family outing.

Dear Mother of One Child

My sister-in-law just sent me this link. I'm so glad she did (Thanks, Crystal!)! I often feel like I can't even pretend to complain to any mother who has more than one child--because if I'm having a hard time with just one, what must more-than-one be like? I'm so happy this mother of nine gave recognition and affirmation to the way I have felt many times: even one can be hard. I also liked how she put words to my feelings: "Dear mother of only one child, don’t blame yourself for thinking that your life is hard...My dear, it is hard. You’re not being a wuss or a whiner...You’re suffering now because you’re turning into a new woman, a woman who is never allowed to be alone." I am turning into a new woman. A mother. That's something I've never been before. I love the one that I have, but it's nice to be given permission to acknowledge the struggles of being mom to a singular individual. Baby #2, bring it on!

Home Visit

Yesterday we had a home visit. That means that it has been a year since we have been approved and we have to update our adoption profile, including a home visit. Our former caseworker came to complete the home visit, because our assigned caseworker is out of the country at the moment (adopting a baby into her family internationally). We had a nice time chatting and catching up with our caseworker. She asked a handful of questions, walked into the rooms, and said adieu. Short and sweet. Just the way I like it. Although the agency tells us that the home visits are NOT a white glove test, but more of an assessment as to the safety and wholesomeness of the environment, I still spent the entire morning cleaning the house. I even dusted! I hate dusting. I know I didn't have to go crazy, but I always like to find Motivation for doing cleaning jobs that I especially detest, and a home visit gives the Big M.

Kangaroo Zoo

Maya and I went with some friends on Wednesday to our local Kangaroo Zoo. It is a play place entirely made up of gigantic bounce houses and blow-up slides. I thought it sounded a bit like Maya-heaven. She excitedly went on the first slide with Jackson, but I think it scared her, and for the next ten minutes she wouldn't let me put her down. Finally Emily patiently sat down with her in the bounce place for 2-year-olds and let her sit until she was comfortable (thank goodness for other adults who can sometimes step in and show more patience than a parent might feel). After that, there was no stopping Maya. She bounced, climbed, and ran for the next two hours straight. I think she fell asleep approximately three seconds after I strapped her into her carseat. She loved it. I think we are going to have to go back.

Stuff

Something happened to our computer mouse which has caused the scrolling ball thingy to do just the opposite that it is supposed to do. When I scroll down, the page moves UP. When I scroll to the right, the screen goes LEFT. I can't explain it. I don't understand it. I'm not sure what could have caused such an aberration. I do know that it makes me crazy. However obnoxious it may be, it has gone on so long that I've finally adapted to it. Now when I use somebody else's computer I have mouse dys-scrollia (yes, a made up word, but it makes perfect sense in this age of technology). Any computer geeks out there know how to fix this? (#region John; yes; end region) (#region Lora; I'm pretty sure I already asked you; end region)

Breaking glass + John = at least an hour of clean-up. I'm not kidding. (#region John; That's not entirely true.  The cleanup wouldn't of taken an hour, it's just that it happened in the middle of a time sensitive cooking application so the final vacuum was put off for a while; endregion) One of his Christmas frosty mugs (a mug you put in the freezer until it is frosty and you are ready to fill it with a refreshing beverage) fell off the fridge and exploded into approximately one million, two hundred thousand, five hundred fifty-four pieces yesterday. I was more upset about the clean-up that ensued than the loss of the mug. We picked up the large pieces. John swept. I vacuumed. John and I removed every movable object from the kitchen and John then vacuumed the kitchen tiles. Maya was restricted to her booster seat or bedroom. Finally after all of that, we got to eat dinner.

Numbers. I have a funny relationship with numbers. I am pretty good at math. I got the Outstanding Math Student Award in 8th grade. See. Good at math. However, I am HORRIBLE at remembering information that includes numbers: birthdays, important historical dates, prices, diaper sizes, etc. You name it. Just ask my best friend, Beth. I ask her pretty much every year if her birthday is the fourth or fifth of April (which is it, Beth?). Or my sister, AKA the coupon queen, will ask me how much I paid for something, and I will ever-so-intelligently scrunch up my forehead in concentration, look at the ceiling as if the answer might be written there, and then shrug my shoulders and admit that I have no idea. And as for the year that Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue, well, I only remember that because it has a nice little rhyming chant to help me remember. (It's 1492, by the way. See. I really do know it). I also remember that Henry the VIII of the six wives was born in 1491 (the year before Columbus sailed the ocean blue). Other than that, I have very few dates committed to memory. A shortcoming, perhaps? A quirk? Laziness? I'm not sure. I just ask that those of you who are good at remembering numbers and dates have patience with me.

This past week has been highlighted by such things as ward building clean up, Sherlock Holmes group date with my parents and sister and her husband, book club, zumba, no hands spaghetti night, Haven Kimmel, Chuck-a-rama, game night, and the return of White Collar. It's been a good week.

I have recently made a rather important and interesting connection. Although women struggle with different SITUATIONS, the EMOTIONS are often the same. I realized this after talking with my sister-in-law who struggles with her job and after crying with my friend who's son has just been diagnosed with autism. Then I took into account my own situation with adoption and infertility. I found that while I was talking to these women who were coming from a very different experience, I kept nodding in understanding and empathy. I found that anger, loneliness, and sadness were themes that all of these trials had in common. And even better than finding that I was not alone in my emotions, was hearing how these strong, beautiful women have found ways to deal with these struggles.

This week I tucked Maya in her bed at naptime, as usual, but I could hear her playing an hour later. I finally went in there and rocked her in the rocking chair, where she quickly fell asleep. Holding her again reminded me how big she has gotten in the last year and a half. She used to fit in the crook of my arm, and now she lays across my lap. She is a sweet, precious girl, and I am so glad to have her. 

Pictures

I don't know why it is taking me so long to finish blogging about Christmas, but it is. While in California, I took family pictures for Amy and Jared's family. Adorable outfits + beautiful people + perfect lighting = cute pictures.

 

I also got a picture of John, his dad, and his grandpa. These men are each 30 years apart. John likes to tell the story of when he was little how his dad would ask him to figure out their ages. He would start with John's age, and John would say 8, then Gary would have John figure out how old he (Gary) was, and then how old grandpa was. Next Gary asked John how old he (Gary) would be if John was 30. John said "Sixty." And then he asked how old would grandpa be, and John, not wanting to count that high, said "Dead."