Let her eat cake!

Baby Who has turned 1, and we marked the occasion today with cake and gifts.

Little Miss Persnickety was having none of the throw-your-hand-in-the-cake-and-smear-it-in-your-hair foolishness that Who I embraced. No siree Bob, Baby Who just stared blankly at us when we put the cake in front of her. After about 5 minutes of me eagerly saying "Go for it! Smash that cake!" with camera at the ready, I finally got her a spoon to see if that would help. Yes! Apparently, we have a Miss Manners in the works -- it must be way uncool in Baby Whodom to eat birthday cake with her grubby little mitts.

So off she went, smearing a wee bit o' icing in the process -- but nothing resembling the Great Cake Smashing of Who I in 2004. Oh well, it saved me a bath! But she licked the plate clean!

Now, if I could just figure out how to get her to like whole milk ...

A state of neglect

I've been informed that I've been derelict in my duty to update the blog. "Nothing since Halloween???" the adoring masses cry. "What's new???" others demand.

Honestly, I don't have the energy to argue. So even though it's nearly midnight, and the wee Whos will be up way too early, here ya go.

Our big excitement since Halloween has been the big trek out East to show off the Whos to grandma and great-grandma. Over the river, through the woods we went -- stopping at every potty along the way. But we made it there and back safe and sound, and the kiddos were a hit with all who encountered their active little butts.

But I've never been so happy to see my own house and bed in my life. Close to 11 hours in a car with three kids under 5 is not my idea of a good time.

And I'm still wondering how one tiny baby can require me to pack SO MUCH CRAP. Portable crib. Portable high chair. Clothes out the wazoo, because heaven forbid she soil herself and require me to do laundry in a foreign environment. It's just unimaginable. We had so much stuff wedged in the Mazda that it lost its zoom zoom. Make a commercial about THAT, folks!

With that, I bid you adieu. Coming up: The cake-smearing festival, or Baby Who's 1st birthday.

Halloween treats

OK, I admit it. My munchkins are unique. Take their Halloween experience, for example.

Instead of racing door to door demanding candy like the other crazed goblins in our neighborhood, they wanted to stay home and hand out candy. And not just when kids rang the doorbell.

They solicited trick-or-treaters. Threw open the door and Who II bellowed, in her best Ethel Merman impersonation, "HEY, KIDS! We got a LOT of CANDY HERE!"

Then, they'd yell, "You have to ring the doorbell!" and slam the door, refusing to open it until the goblins did their bidding.

Who I would carefully count the number of kids awaiting treats, then dole out the appropriate amount of treats. Who II had door duty, opening and closing, hollering "BYE BYE!" as the ghouls and monsters (and a couple of girls dressed as the "Deal or No Deal" bimbos) trotted off to their next conquest.

Baby Who was adorable in her pumpkin costume and scoped out the treat bowl -- even figuring out how to unwrap a lollipop all by herself.

Imagine the disappointment when 8 p.m. came and we informed the Big Whos that all the trick-or-treaters were back at their houses, basking in sugar highs. "No, some people might still come," Who I insisted. She finally gave up the ghost about 8:15.

Now, don't think I've sucked the joy out of the ghostly activities. They DID trick-or-treat at preschool -- and came home with such a mother lode that I could have avoided buying candy at all and just "regifted" what they got. They'll NEVER eat it all in a year. And they did visit a handful of houses in the neighborhood to show off their costumes and see their friends. But their true joy was in giving out the candy.

'Tis definitely better to give than receive, even on Halloween.

Cheetah girl and the Princess

Here they are, off for a sugar-filled day at school, trick-or-treating 'til they turn into pumpkins themselves.

Speaking of which, where, oh where, is the baby's pumpkin outfit? Must find!

The sisters three

Today was a Kodak moment. Literally. I broke out my trusty camera and -- after a month of trying -- came up with a picture of all three girls looking pretty good! Usually, Who I makes a goofy face (she's a real ham -- see what I mean?), Who II pouts or closes her eyes or the baby cries and tries to get away, leaving me with a wailing blur instead of the adorable Baby Who she is.

Rest assured, we had our share of silly outtakes. But finally -- success!

Dare I make the appointment for the professional Christmas picture?

I'm thrilled to finally have a decent picture of all three. I plan to send it, along with a translated letter, to Baby Who's orphanage. We want to thank them again for all they did for her, and tell her how well she is doing -- and what better way to overcome the language barrier than through pictures? My dear dad the photographer, who never got to meet his granddaughters, definitely would have approved.

Rambling

How much can an at-home mom cram into a week? Try physicals for two 4-year-olds at two different pediatricians. A mental health appointment for one of them. A new furnace and air conditioner one day. Duct cleaning the next. Throw in a quick trip to the vet for the itchy and inappropriately peeing cat and you've got yourself a full week! Gee, and I thought I'd be bored. Doesn't leave much time for scintillating conversation -- especially when your main companion mostly says "ahhhh-ya-ya," "dat!" and "doh" -- for dumb barking dog. Then again, she does throw in a very loud "MAMA!" every now and then, so I guess it's worth it. But now it's Monday, and the Big Whos are at school, and it's just me and the squirt (who, by the way, I predict will top 15 lbs at her 1-year checkup in a couple of weeks!). We're deep in the throes of list-making as we prepare to take the herd east to introduce the newest grandbaby to her Grandma Jane. Eight hours in the car with three active but confined-against-their-will children. Egad. But I'll obsess on that later. Right now, I have to find the damn cat ears that I just had the other day. Who I insists she'll be a cat for Halloween for the second year in a row. I have everything but the ears -- and an earless cat is the stuff Halloween nightmares are made of.

Hallmark moment

Tonight, I asked the big girls, "So, what do you think about this whole baby sister thing now that she's been home awhile?"

Who II, who has had the hardest adjustment, replied, "I like her!"

Who I, naturally, snorted like a pig and hauled the baby around like a sack of potatoes. But we KNOW she's in love with Baby Who.

Baby Who, meanwhile, once again defied all logic and managed to avoid the afternoon nap so she could party with the big Whos. Egad. I did catch her once, sprawled in the beanbag chair as she searched for her second wind.

Awwww.