Mia's Baby Renaming Project Revisited

As a follow up to my previous post about Mia’s inability to accurately or consistently name her babies, I thought I should update you on things for posterity.  I am pleased to report that she has made some progress in name designation:

her largest baby is now consistently called “Big Baby” and her floppy little dollar store baby is now officially “Little Baby”.  This Christmas Santa got her a doll whose name was “Emma”.  It shocked all of us when she actually referred to Emma by her name.  She continues to do so.  These are HUGE developments in the world of our non-conformist little Mia.   She does still have a variety of other naked, androgynous babies whose names are ethereal mixes of the latest babies she has seen at daycare.  My good friend Sarah just had a baby named Ben so most of them have since acquired his name.  For now….

Perhaps the greatest and most shocking development in this storyline, however, occurred just this week.  Toby was very excited to give Mia her birthday present: her very own little white stuffed puppy dog that comes in a purse.  He had every right to be excited to give it to her; she ADORES her new dog and proudly takes the puppy with her on ALL of her latest adventures.  She can now often be found proudly flaunting herself around the house in her new tiara, her plastic high-heeled shoes and jewels, pushing her baby in a stroller while holding her new purse and puppy in the other hand.  If it weren’t for her potbelly I swear she’d be Paris Hilton.

Since Wednesday was her birthday and her puppy was new we let her bring puppy with her to the dinner table.  Puppy was even granted her very own seat right beside her.  (In her purse, of course).  During the meal, Rob earnestly asked Mia the question she has notoriously bombed in the past, “Mia, does your new puppy have a name?”

Now having the maturity and wherewithal of a THREE year old, Mia didn’t miss a beat.

“Oh, YES!” she said nodding her head and chewing her pizza pizza, “her name is RITA.”

As if that wasn’t enough, it turns out puppy Rita also has a last name: Robinson.

Now every night when I tuck Mia into bed I say goodnight to her and I am sure to include Big Baby, Little Baby, Emma, Androgynous Babies collectively named Ben (for now) and her newest addition…Rita Robinson.

Mia, Daddy, Rita Robinson (hanging upside down in her purse) and their tieras...

Miss Mia Turns 3!!!

Three years ago today it was bitterly cold but I insisted on going for my then-ritualized nighttime waddle after the kids had gone to bed.   It was my painful and desperate attempt to induce labour.  My mother, not wanting to upset me, graciously bundled herself up to come with me so I wasn’t walking the icy and darkened streets alone.

It was on this particular walk that my mom made the sweeping statement that “Babies are ALWAYS born in the middle of the night.”

Of course I argued her point; I was beyond curmudgeonly and we had run out of the usual topics of conversation.  She rolled her eyes at me,

“Name ONE BABY who was born between the hours of 8am and 4pm”

Jordan Holloway. 

Her argument was that his mother  had been in LABOUR during the night so it didn’t count.

I threw my arms up in the air.  With THAT type of specification and the length of MOST labours, NO ONE was going to meet her ridiculous criteria.

I still remember her very next words that served as the final impetus for Mia’s arrival,

“Look, Lyssie, all I’m trying to say is that no one wakes up at 7am, goes into labor, and delivers the baby at 4pm in the afternoon.  It’s never REFINED like that.”

Less than 24 hours later, after a 7am-4pm labour and arriving just before the civilized hour of 5pm, Mia made her grand entrance into the world

It was the first and LAST thing she ever conformed to.  It was the first of MANY times she flipped the inaugural bird to my mother and the rest of the world.

Since that time, Mia has lived up to that very first statement by being predictably unpredictable, doing things in her own way, on her own terms, and constantly giving us plenty of things to laugh about.

We find her now, approaching her 3^rd birthday, a strong willed, independent and quirky little girl.    While she can keep up with her busy brother in soccer, wrestling and running games,  we often find her by herself, sweetly rocking one of her many babies, softly kissing their head and shushing them in sweet maternal loveliness. 

Her palate for chocolate and all things sweet is unparalleled.  This Christmas I brought home that disgusting PC Chocolate Soda and did a blind taste test for my parents, Rob, Toby and Mia.  We all smelled it, took a sip, and guess who was the first to guess correctly?

“ITS CHOCOLATE….” She said in an astounedly dreamy voice.  While the rest of us grimaced and poured it down the drain, Mia gleefully finished her (very small) taste test, and has since then marveled at that magically perfect beverage that never materialized again.

Mia makes us all laugh on a regular basis.  Whether it’s her odd pronunciations of words such as DESSERT (pronounced De-THE-rt) or Usually (pronounced Yooooo-s-oooo—ly) or her crazy dress up get ups that she proudly walks around boasting, there is never a dull moment with her around.

Perhaps my greatest pleasure comes from watching Mia and Toby together.  There was a long stretch of time in my life when I questioned how on earth I was ever going to be able to parent two children at the same time.  I still have those moments, but seeing their mutual love of one another blossom and reciprocate, I know that by having Mia I gave Toby the greatest gift I could ever give him.   This year I can add this clause:  And Vice Versa.

Dearest Mia,

I know you are SO excited to turn 3 years old tomorrow.  You know how to hold up 3 fingers and you love the fact that if you turn the number 3 on its side it makes an M for Mia.  I look forward to celebrating the day with you with all of your babies, a big chocolate cake with whipped cream for de-the-rt and a nice cozy meal with your adoring brother and father.  You bring us all so much joy; we couldn’t imagine what we ever did without you.  I hope one day you will be a Mommy too, because I know you will be SUCH a great one, but more importantly so that you one day know how very much I love you, my sweet pea.

Happy Birthday to you

 Love Always,  Mommy xoxo

A Different Kind of New Years...

It is 7:30pm on New Years Eve and everyone in my house is asleep INCLUDING the dog. 

We had high hopes for tonight; a meticulously planned dinner party with oysters, champagne tastings and midnight poutine bar with some of our very favourite couples.  We had hyped up the sleepovers for the kids, made convoluted plans to have the dog appropriately fed and toileted, and even  had the trampoline place rented for post festivities child-minding while we nursed our hangovers the next morning.

And then Toby got gastro.

My boy doesn’t do anything half-heartedly.  While some people feel sick, barf, and are done with it, Toby not only chooses a momentous day (last year it was Halloween) but also allows the bug to completely take over his body and mind.  Rob found him wandering the basement delivering puddles of vomit to unsuspecting places just after midnight.  He then proceeded to replicate his wandering shenanigans 4 more times before daybreak.  By the time it was morning Rob had done 3 loads of laundry, showered himself and Toby and Lysol-disinfected the basement and his room twice.  All while I was sleeping.  (I married a good man.)

Mia, on the other hand, woke up with some diarrhea neatly tucked into her diaper and that was the end of it.

Needless to say, my heart went out to my two boys today.  We cancelled our evening plans and had a pajama and movie day, trading our lavish dinner for beef broth, saltines and ginger ale with a whiff of zofran on the side.

I am sitting here alone by the fire while everyone else sleeps (Rob PROMISES he will wake up in an hour to make dinner with me and usher in the new year…we shall see!) and I’m feeling surprisingly grateful for this rare moment of solitude in which to reflect on our year.

I think the feeling that I have right now – which I have every time Toby gets sick (in his own dramatic way) is that of gratitude.  Seeing your child sick and then bouncing back to health is a little reminder of how precious and full of life they are, yet how vulnerable they can be at times.

In a lot of ways this is the predominant feeling I get when I reflect back on 2013.  Rob had his big car crash in May (he was fine but his car was not) and finished off the year by hacking his 2^nd finger up with an axe on Christmas Eve.  Both events were DEVASTATING to Rob but after decompressing (!) he came around to realizing how fortunate we are.  Both events left us feeling thankful that Rob and the others were unscathed and that all 10 fingers are securely in place.  It also reminded us of the amazing friends we have in our lives. We have several lawyer friends who jumped in to give us hours of free advice and are still walking us through the process.  We have doctor friends who arrived on Xmas eve to sew up Rob’s finger and reattach his fingernail, which has since proven to be but a decorative ornament on his now grotesque finger.

Toby’s year was highlighted by sports.  This year Rob coached Toby’s soccer team and I think for the rest of our lives we will forever refer to it as The Dream Team.  It just so happened that all the boys on his team were his best friends from class PLUS his best buddy from daycare, Connor.  The boys had SO much fun all summer long meeting on Saturday mornings to play soccer together and were undefeated this season which only served to rile up Toby’s soccer ego and enthusiasm.  As winter rolled in we were fortunate enough to find adequate replacement with hockey.  Although this team is missing his very best buddies, it has finally allowed him to make friends with some of the local kids and parents in Feversham and Singhampton.  He played his first game on Dec 23^rd and they lost 18-5, which quite quickly mitigated his feelings of invincibility from his summer of undefeated soccer.

Miss Mia has continued to live up to her middle name; she reminds me more and more of my Grandma as she unveils her mischievous and fun personality.  She has SUCH a sweet tooth, whenever she devilishly tucks in to a particularly delectable treat, hiding it away from the rest of us; I swear I catch a glimpse of my Grandma in her flickering eyes.   Mia has also started to show us her softer more maternal side. She has about 6 babies who sleep with her every night.  She talks to them as she falls asleep and as soon as she wakes up.  When I go in to get her every morning I find her rocking one of them, singing a song, patting their back or just reassuring them “there, there, baby, there there”.  It is great to see that there’s another side to my rough and tumble girl.

My fire is starting to dwindle and if I have any hope at all of salvaging my evening I must go and wake Rob up so we can do our NYE quiz and make some dinner.

I am signing off this year with feelings of good fortune, good friends, and hopefully no ominous rumblings in my tummy…I wish you and yours all the same.