Futile Bribe

If Nicole's photo were in the dictionary, it would depict her clutching a chocolate bar, or some other substance that contained more grams of sugar than any other ingredient.

So when Clint tried to pry Nicole from the house last night by enticing her with candy, I couldn't believe my ears!

Dad: Hey Nicole, let's go to the store together and we can stop and get a treat on the way home.

Nicole: Why don't you just stop and get a treat all of yourself.

What?! Was that my Nicole who had voluntarily declined an occasion to consume candy without having to preface it with eating "good food?" Clint and I exchanged glances. A strange and unknown substance must be circulating in our water ... There is truly no alternative explanation.

Be It Ever So Humble ...

... there's no place like home.

After living like gypsies for six weeks, traveling from town to town, and staying with whomever would indulge us, we finally found our way back to our 850 sq ft apartment. And even though it's less than half the size of anywhere we've been lately, the sight was never more welcome.

There's something to be said for the familiar scent of your own laundry detergent, looking at walls and having your beloved children staring right back at you, pulling your clothes out of a closet in the morning, cooking in a kitchen where you can find utensils blindfolded and lazily lying in bed with your honey while the children roam the house in the morning.

If you were to visit our place, you would not find it large or fancy. But you would find our hearts.

The Gift of No Complaints

My husband and I do not make a practice of depriving ourselves of tangible items that we "need." For this reason, we decided not to buy each other Christmas gifts this year.

I still wanted to do something for him, so I thought that if I gave him a month free of complaints, that would be tons better than anything available at a store.

Although my intentions were true, I hang my head in shame to admit that I couldn't even last a week (it's harder than it sounds!). Even though I didn't reach my goal, and I don't know if Clint even noticed, I learned some important lessons about myself and the way I interact with my husband:

1. I have a tendency to complain about various issues, even if they don't affect us.
2. Clint doesn't complain hardly ever.
3. When I hold my tongue and avert a complaint, our home is more peaceful.
4. The things I typically complain about are things that don't really matter.
5. I'm happier when I focus on the positive that surrounds me.

I'll consider trying this experiment again; perhaps it will make my New Year's Resolution list. With time, I think I could make a habit of it.

I Caved

I vowed to withstand the pressure to commercialize Christmas. Clint and I carefully selected two gifts (dismally, neither of which involved a scooter), plus a few stocking stuffers, for Nicole.

In my head I justified my behavior, "We're being responsible. We're not over-indulging. We're teaching our kids that more doesn't mean better."

My heart overruled logic when I was presented with Nicole's wish list, transcribed by cousin Kalia.

#1 Scooter
#2 Sunglasses
#3 Lip gloss

I knew Nicole wanted a scooter. A month ago, cousin Kennedy received one for her birthday. It was, of course, too large for Nicole and the older kids hardly spared her a minute to take it for a spin. Moreover Nicole has a bike, so I didn't think a scooter was necessary.

I felt the gentle tug at my heartstrings again when I showed Nicole a toy that Aunt Shari was wrapping for someone else. I said to her, "Wouldn't you like to receive something this cool for Christmas?"

"I like it, Mom, but I'd rather have a scooter."

Not knowing that a three-wheeled scooter was an option, I told Nicole that she was too little for a scooter.

"OK, I guess I can wait until next year," she simply stated.

How could I resist that?!

Three-Quarters of a Family Portrait

Don't let the smiles fool you -- this game possesses evil powers that kindle ruthless actions toward loved ones. But don't take my word for it; go try it for yourselves!

Modesty, Reprise

Aunt Sarah hunted high and low, and I assure you that it was not in vain, for a Barbie dressed modestly. Nicole and I have shopped the Barbie and Bratz collections recently, but each doll was rejected because she didn't meet Nicole's clothing standards. Judging by the smile on Nicole's face, I think this doll received an approval rating!

All New Nicole

Yesterday Nicole requested a makeover. I wondered where she had learned the term, but agreed to apply some fair-colored makeup.

While we had fun together, I think that she isn't ready to let go of it. She's learned to be patient while others take steps to beautify her.

Trash Collector

Nicole couldn't bear to tear one piece of paper off a gift without placing it in the trash bag. At one point, she picked up the giant garbage bag herself and circulated around the room for each person to rid themselves of unwanted wrapping paper.

All I Want for Christmas ...

is my six front teeth?

I can't believe it! Grant has two new teeth making their way through his gums.

I don't think teeth is really what Grant envisioned receiving for Christmas, however. We tried our best to pick something he'd enjoy (Cheerios), but what he liked best were the spare boxes and torn paper.

And the Award Goes to ...

... Nicole, for best expression while opening a gift. I call it Surprise à la Mode.

Nicole, Get Your Gun!

Mom: "Nicole, what did you get for Christmas?"

Nicole: "A shootgun!"

That's My Girl

I'm not one who much enjoys a good nail polish. Just like everything else in my life, I like my nails plain. I can honestly say that I do not own any nail polish in color (only clear). For this reason, Nicole has never worn nail polish.

Today cousin Kalia offered to paint Nicole's nails.

Nicole asked me first, "Mom, do you want my nails painted?"

I honestly replied, "No. But if you want them done, then Kalia can paint them for you."

Ten minutes and two coats of polish later, Kalia came searching for nail polish remover. "Nicole said she wanted them to be plain."

I smiled when Nicole entered the room. I asked about her nails and she said, "I like them white, just like you, Mom. White's your favorite color, huh? Mine, too."

No Snow? No Problem!

I woke up this morning, with the shutters in the room closed tightly, and thought to myself, "No chance for a white Christmas this year." A short while later, our family began the American tradition of Christmas breakfast and gift-giving and no more thoughts of snow danced around in my head.

It wasn't until several hours later, as Nicole and Sammie rode their new scooter and bike, respectively, down the sunny, palm tree-lined sidewalk that I thought to myself, "Christmas is much more pleasurable without the snow. Where's the I'm Dreaming of a Green Christmas song?"

I heard a weatherman (poor guy had to report the weather on Christmas day!) say, "Take a look at this forecast! Seventy degrees all week long. No wonder so many people travel to Phoenix for the holidays." Amen, brother.

Cheese, Please

If you ask Nicole what kind of pizza she prefers, you're likely to receive a non-standard answer. (It's kind of like those people that tell you how to build a clock when you're only asking for the time.) Tonight Susie fell into this trap and Nicole replied, "I like the kind where it's bread, sauce and cheese. But not pepperoni." Translation: cheese pizza.

She ate plenty of pizza at Chuck-E-Cheese tonight with her cousins. Honestly, though, I don't think kids like this "restaurant" for the cheese; I think it's the games. Peruse our highlights and make your own assessment.

* * * * *

Who's missing from this picture? (Not that any more little girls could physically cram into this Jeep.)

Father and son.

Christmas Magic

As I hovered over the stove stirring a syrup destined to become a rare candy worth more than money, Nicole inadvertently pressed the Play button on Shari's automatic Baby Grand. Immediately, a cheerful arrangement of Jingle Bells leaped from the piano chords. Nicole came running from the living room yelling, "Mom! Look! The piano is playing all by itself!" For the next half hour, she sat mesmerized on the piano bench, watching the magic unfold before her eyes.

Grant happily crawled on the floor, in search of toys, or perchance a bite of fudge. I looked around my sister's kitchen and realized how blessed I am to be surrounded by people I love -- especially during this time of year. In the back recesses of my mind, I dreamed that this vacation would last forever.

What makes Christmas special? It's not the gifts; it's family.

Buffet

An hour after our trek to Arizona commenced, Nicole asked the timeless question (with a slight variation), "Are we almost there yet?"

Apparently her cousins were just as anxious to see her. When we pulled in their driveway twelve hours later, Nicole was welcomed by three pre-teens running toward her with their arms outstretched and screaming her name. We couldn't have arrived a moment too soon.

Not long after that, and many times since, the chief complaint in the house has been, "So-and-So is hogging Nicole!" or "So-and-So won't share Nicole."

Easy, girls ... there's plenty of Nicole to go around.

True Love

I recently read a card that was intended as a gift for a husband that read: "You're not just everything I've dreamed of, you're more than I ever imagined."

As I contemplate the last six years with my husband, I think that phrase epitomizes our mutual feelings for each other and I wish I had written it first. Every once in a while, we look at each other and simultaneously exclaim, "We got lucky, didn't we?!"

In the short while that we've been married, we've graduated from college, bought and sold a home, had three children and two dogs and nearly completed medical school. If someone had revealed to us on our wedding day a glimpse of our future, I would scarcely have believed him. Yet here we are -- happier than we began. Older, yes. Wiser, perhaps. More in love every day, undoubtedly.

Is it luck or love? We believe it's both.

Watch Out Boys, She's Republican

Not only is she beautiful, she also votes.

It looks like Nicole may need supplementary lessons in make-up, but not in politics (hasn't missed an I voted sticker yet). As for the lipstick, not bad for a first-timer without a mirror, eh?

Nicole's Grandma

If Nicole were to draft a list of her top 10 favorite people, I bet Grandma would be at the top (even above Mom and Dad on most days). Nicole loves her Grandma.

Nicole calls her on my cell phone and talks to her about nothingness, like two teenage girls after school.
Nicole likes to sit at the counter and color in her company.
Nicole helps her cook, clean up the toys and watch Brother.
Nicole shows off her silliest new tricks and flips to make Grandma laugh.
Nicole loves Grandma to hold her. She especially likes to give her loves and kisses.

It's no wonder that they're nearly inseparable. A few nights ago, we pulled into the driveway at Grandma's house. I alerted Nicole ahead of time that Grandma wouldn't be home when we arrived, but she refused to believe it. Maybe she just hoped that, by some miracle, Grandma would be there anyway, waiting for Nicole to jump in her arms like usual. Nicole unbuckled her seat belt, jumped out of the car door and ran into the house through the garage. Just as Nicole passed over the threshold and the door to the house was about to close, I heard a sweet baby voice nearly waver, "Grandma?"

I rushed in behind Nicole to hold her and remind her that Grandma would be gone for a while. As I entered the house, I heard little footsteps running throughout the upstairs -- room to room to room -- repeating, "Grandma? Where are'd you? Are you here?"

Disappointment set in and soon Nicole busied herself with her favorite activities for Grandma's house: her special box of coloring supplies, her much loved cartoon show and a sippy cup of orange juice.

Finally it was bath time. After Grant got out, Nicole insisted on staying in the tub until Grandma came home. Surely it had already been "a while," she reasoned, and then Grandma could customarily wrap Nicole in the oversize towel and carry her to the changing table to have her hair combed and pulled out of her face.

Several days later, we're still here, at Grandma's house ... but without Grandma. Not an hour passes but what Nicole questions, "Mom, is it time for Grandma to come home? I miss her."

Play Time

Everyone knows Grant as a happy baby. In fact, it's not so often that you hear him cry. These occasions are mainly limited to the following events:

• Change of clothes/diaper
• Extreme injury
• Departing the waters at bath time

As a fact, the highlight of Grant's day is the time he spends in the tub. If you think about it, it almost makes sense. He has no clothes or diaper to irritate or restrict him. He's with his best friend (Sister) and a whole bunch of toys. And he can crawl around, stand up, splash and make as much noise as he wants. Even if he's been in the bath for 45 minutes (common occurrence) and the water's frigid, he still protests any adult who tries to separate him from the tub.

You ought to see him come crawling from any corner of the house when he hears bath water running. Sometimes he is so desperate to play in the tub that he stands next to it and bounces himself up and down to get attention. Just wait until he figures out how to dump himself over the side of the tub to get in whenever he pleases. He might not ever get out!

To Nicole's Future Husband

Dear Mr. Right,

As Nicole's mother, I think you ought to understand one important aspect about Nicole before you vow "I do." I warn you now herewith that Nicole will live in misery if you attempt to relocate her to a suburb more than five miles away from her family (includes distant relatives and acquaintances). Should you fail to follow my advice, she will constantly remark how much she misses her family until you are forced to buy her a private jet so that she can visit them at will.

Take my advice and it will save you many capsules of Tylenol (not to mention airport fees). If you don't think this is a lifestyle that you will be able to tolerate, I beg you to please reconsider your engagement.

Sincerely,

Your Future Mother-in-Law

The Tongue is a Vile Muscle

In the history of mankind, no child has ever been permitted to stick his tongue at his parents ... until now.

Not only do I allow Grant to crawl around the house searching for mischief with his tongue hanging out of his mouth like a dog, but I think it's cute. And if I do it back, he finds it rather amusing.

I suppose it would be quite a sight to spot an adult sticking her tongue out at a baby.

Patience is a Virtue

While eating her bedtime snack, I informed Nicole that she would be heading straight to bed as soon as her last bite was swallowed.

"But Mom, I want Dad to help me finish this puzzle," she said as she pointed to a tricky magnetic pyramid puzzle we bought at the Desert Museum in Tucson last year.

I thought to myself, "If she's already asked him, then I'll let her. Otherwise, it's off to bed!"

Aloud, I voiced my thought, "Nicole did you already ask Dad?"

Sadly and honestly, she reported, "No. But I was going to. Dad told me to 'hang on' and so I didn't ask him yet."

How could we deny such a petition for a bedtime extension? She and Dad finished her puzzle. Then we tucked her in bed.

Shortcuts

I have no doubt that Nicole will make an excellent wife and mother. After all, she loves to cook. All other traits, such as organizing and cleaning, are simply bonus.

Her specialty is creamy cum pie. Now, it's not officially a recognized dessert in the United States, but in Nicole's dreamland, it's to die for! Nicole has been cultivating her culinary skills with me since she was big enough to sit on the counter without falling off. And she's learned a few tricks of the trade, as it were. Just like I did from my mom.

For example, since I was the bumpkin of my nine-member family, my mom was a busy body. The most useful shortcut she taught me was to wash the dishes, let them air dry on the counter while you're washing the remaining dishes, and then to put the dishes away damp. "They'll continue drying and be ready for use next time you grab them out of the cupboard." Wow, she was right! This is especially true if you wash the dishes last thing before retiring to bed.

I only have two children, but I like to think I'm almost as busy as she was with seven, and hence, am entitled to shortcut-away as often as I would like. What I didn't anticipate was that Nicole would not want to follow in my footsteps.

So, after making the best creamy cum pie ever, Nicole washed all of her bowls and dishes. Then she dried them ... by hand ... with a towel. I was impressed because I could not imagine where she would have learned that. (Certainly not from her mom or grandma.) I commented to her that she had done a fantastic job and she retorted, "Thanks, Mom. I dried them, too. Not like you, huh!" Oops. Perhaps one day she'll learn what being busy is all about and remember what her mom and her mom's mom used to do.

It's all about working smart, not hard.

Dog Wailer

I've heard of the Dog Whisperer and I don't see how he could hold a candle to this firecracker of a dog trainer. As long as Nicole has a Ritz in hand, Ellie obeys every one of Nicole's whimsical commands:

• Sit


• Rollover


• Shake ("No, Ellie, the other hand.")


• Sit up


• Bark


• Lay down

Nicole's secret? I'll give you a hint: It's not speaking in soft tones.

It's Not My Fault

I assume full responsibility for the most recent addition to Nicole's vocabulary (I even overheard her say stinkin' during pretend time with her dolls). This time, however, I can only accept partial blame.

During our Crazy 8's game tonight, I played a color that Nicole didn't have in stock. When she saw my card, she muttered, "Bummer."

I asked her where she learned that word (because as I said before, it's not my fault), and she replied nonchalantly, "On TV."

I suppose I ought to watch TV with her to hear what word she'll bring home next.