The daily insanity

We've been on a roll lately, starting with Mr. Fix It's sinus infection, which became Who I's double ear/sinus infection, which became a cold for Who II just in time for grandpa's visit, which became a cold for Baby Who, which became a cold for Mama Who that she ignored until it became a sinus infection two weeks later. But thanks to the amazing Monica at the local drugstore walk-in clinic, I now have pretty pink medicine. Bless you, Monica! (No, that was not a sneeze!)

Then there's the cat. This is the formerly free cat, rescued from a certain online classified ad site. The dog in a cat's body who is much more pleasant than her bitchy feline counterpart, who has decided that under no circumstances will she accept this interloper -- even though she's been here seven months.

Puppy cat has developed a hideous intestinal virus that has prompted spontaneous pooping and various other atrocities everywhere EXCEPT the litter box. $400 later, we've ruled out everything but the gut. We have two antibiotics, kitty Immodium and tonight I stepped in crap. Mind you, I have $4000 worth of new carpet that mercifully she has not hit -- yet. But I'm starting to panic. Especially since I. stepped. in. poop. Yuck!

So you have 5 illnesses among humans, 1 cat illness, 1 visiting grandpa who did not see us at our best. Now throw in a hectic weekend: swimming lessons for big Whos, a 2-year-old who spent the weekend apparently on speed, a daddy-daughter banquet that Who II freaked about and refused to attend, and Mama Who's madness in schlepping the Big Whos 90 minutes away to a concert after a sleepless night.

The good news amid the chaos: Baby Who can sing her ABCs almost perfectly! And let me remind you -- SHE IS ONLY 2!

At least someone in the family has brains.

Sink your teeth into this one

The Tooth Fairy Cometh. To my house. And what a workout her little fairy butt got.

First came word from Dr. Demento, the smiling, "You're paying for my next vacation to someplace warm" pediatric dentist that the two baby teeth we'd tried valiantly to save had -- gasp -- given up the ghost. Yup, not one, but TWO teeth. Kablooey. Including the one I spent 300 smackeroos to crown. Do I have "Sucker" plastered all over my forehead? Crown this puppy now, $330. Ka-ching. Yank it a year later, add spacers, pull its little friend on the other side, add another spacer. $900. Ka-CHING!

But hey, she broke the news with a smile. Witch.

To her credit, Who II took the news calmly. And to my credit, I tried to bill it as her getting something before her sister did. "The Tooth Fairy will visit you first!" I cried with glee, hoping she wouldn't hate me later. Explained that she'd get to wear the "elephant nose" and breathe her favorite flavor, then they'd make her mouth all sleepy and get those teeth out so the Tooth Fairy could have them.

Smart girl, not to be fooled, asked, "Will it hurt?" I quickly backtracked to the elephant nose.

So Dr. Demento and her laughing gas-wielding minions did the deed yesterday. One, two -- sad little teeth out, spacers in. Home in less than an hour. And Who II did great.

But the fun was just beginning, at least for us poor fairies.

Mama Tooth Fairy was exhausted and quite honestly could have hit slumberland about 9 p.m. But no, there was fairy-ing to be done, so she toughed it out until 10. Sneaks into Who II's room, now shared by Who I thanks to the miracle of bunk beds. Who I is sawing logs on the top bunk. I go to cover up Who II, the cold, hard tooth cash in my hand, and what to my dismay do I hear but, "I'm not sleeping yet, mama!" ACK, ACK, ACK!

Off I slink, bags deepening under my eyes, cash still in hand, teeth safely tucked under the pillow in their hot pink plastic tooth box.

Thirty minutes later, I try again. This time, I THINK she's asleep. Or she's doing a great job of faking it. Only problem is she's asleep on top of the tooth box and facing me so that if she wakes at all, she'll bust my big fairy ass but good.

Out I go, money still in hand. It's time to enlist the big guns. So to Mr. Fix It I say: "You're going to have to do this. I have to sleep."

I tell him where the tooth box is. I'd pulled it back to the edge of the pillowcase for easy access. And off to bed I lumbered.

Fast forward to 5:30 a.m. Who II wakes, finds tooth box still under her pillow, goes to Daddy disappointed and says the TF didn't show up. Daddy tells her the fairy's probably running late and to go back to sleep. Mercifully, she does.

Come to find out daddy tried to get the box and COULDN'T FIND IT because she'd moved it farther under the pillow. He described a fit of panic as he ran his hand under the pillow, raising it up and flopping her little Who head around with no results.

The good news is that when she went back to sleep, he was able to snatch the box and replace it with the greens. So the next sound was her tapping on the bathroom door to show me her cash.

And I thought Santa had it bad!

Girls' Night Out

'Twas a week before Christmas, to the state museum we did go. For dinner, a train ride and our favorite -- a puppet show!

The jolly old elf was there with his spouse, setting up shop in Santa's funhouse.

For pictures we went, the Big Whos were merry. But Baby Who? Scared -- oh, so very!

She cried and she yelped, setting off alarms, despite Santa's efforts and his very best charms.

So to the rescue came mom, loading her up in her arms. Say Cheese, Baby Who, and smile, if you please!

It's Christmas, my dear, and pictures we need. But if you don't ease your grip on my arm -- how I'll bleed!

So hold on tight, sweet baby girl, and we'll give this holiday tradition a whirl.

She sighed and she sniffled but finally stopped crying. And Mrs. Claus grabbed the camera as the tears were drying.

Click! Went the shutter, Blink! went the flash. When all was done, to the camera I did dash.

A sigh of relief when what did I see? But not one, not two but Whos times three!

So from our house to yours, from Whos big and so small,

Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, to one and to all.

A little elf magic

Baby Who insisted I post this. "Elves, Mama, Elves!"
She can be very persuasive, all 22 pounds of her.

Enjoy!

December meanderings

Mr. Fix it hates Christmas. Not the true reason for Christmas, but the retail-frenzied, Hallmark-driven Christmas that he claims is designed to send him out into public to deal with idiots at shopping malls, on the roads, in parking lots. Even online shopping makes him grumpy. And inevitably, I hear, "You're so hard to buy for."

I've tried to help him out. Last year, I sent him an e-mail with two links to items I'd appreciate if he were so inclined. All he had to do was click on the link and hit "buy me!" And the total cost was under $100.

This year, I ordered my own gift. He has to wrap it, though. And he can just put the $45 it cost in my stocking. Hah!

Seriously, I'm not hard to buy for (my brother makes this same claim). Maybe it's because I recognize that all this is just STUFF. Extraneous stuff that, to be sure, is nice, but in the grand scheme of things, does it matter? No. What matters is that I have the three most amazing gifts of all in my life, that my family is together, that we cherish the memories we have even as we make new ones.

And what I truly want for Christmas, and the coming year, are things money can't buy: Good health for those we love, especially my two aunts as they battle serious illnesses. That my mom continues to enjoy her jaunts to Vegas and beyond and still has many years of hugs from her granddaughters ahead of her. For my baby brother to be happy. That hubby and I can remain sane in our jobs -- and keep those jobs -- in what is a difficult time for so many workers, especially in our industry. And that our girls are healthy and secure in the knowledge that we love them truly, madly, deeply.

It's a lot to ask, and nothing that can be crossed off the list with a quick trip to the mall. Which, I guess, brings us back to the true meaning of Christmas, eh?

Baby Who is 2!!!

She's been preparing us for months, with her "Noooo!" and insistence on getting her way, but now it's official: Baby Who is 2! It seems like just yesterday that we walked into a warm room in Nanchang and saw the tiniest little girl, somberly observing all the activity around her as strange-looking people entered, then took her into their arms.

Right now she's running around in a onesie with white tights, having ditched her birthday dress and decorating her clothes with blue icing and orange and purple marker from her new art kit. Ain't life grand?

What do you get when you mix Dr. Seuss, a black cat and a fairy princess? Too much sugar, of course!

It's almost 10:30 p.m. and the big girls have finally crashed after a day filled with shaking down unsuspecting grownups for enough sugar to rot the teeth of a small country. Or maybe a big one. I've sorted through the stash to make sure there's nothing offensive, leaving the gummy feet and eyeballs for Who I -- who thinks such things are "Cool, dude!" And I've scarfed down a Tootsie Roll (or two) in the process.

Now I remember why folks used to say that the average American gains 7 pounds between Halloween and New Year's Day.

It's off to the treadmill I go...