Merry Christmas!

 From Me, Husband, J, and coming in May, little brother :)

A New Box

As you might remember from this post, J loves herself a good box. Amazon was so good as to furnish us with a rather large one and it has become a fixture in my living room much to my displeasure. The ugly is a small price to pay for the fun. Two weeks ago her daddy was pushing her around in it like a car and became tired of the game before she did. After he said he was done, she asked for a hug, her standard way of getting lifted up and out of things. After the hug, she gives him a kiss, sits back down in the box and says, "More."

Manipulative little darling.

Somehow last week she was able to coax this heart warming cuteness.

Albuquerque Aquarium

Every time I read Albuquerque in my head I pronounce it phonetically so I can spell it more easily. I'm a little worried I'll say it out loud that way in strange company and sound like a GPS. I only hope they will think it is on purpose.

Anyways, during our New Mexico Thanksgiving excursion we were thinking of activities to do with the peanut. Normally our escapades in involve sandrails, dirt bikes, rock climbing and pursuits not conducive to toddlers. Thankfully google makes a wonderful guidebook and we hit up J's favorite thing lately: Fishies!

This fellow really enjoyed Brian

He just looked so friendly.

This sea turtle was a big fella.

I know, it's juvenile, but check out the bottom left name. See, it's a slippery juvenile.

I must say Seattle has spoiled me.  I shouldn't expect so much from a place with a Rio Grande theme, but it was a bit disappointing. The Botanical Gardens next door where pretty cool and free with admission. Bedecked with Christmas lights for night adventures, but interesting all the same. Mostly because of this cool dragon and the associated castle play area.

I think my daughter has been listening to too much Ke$ha.

She was mixing up some eggnog and milk, then decided to brush her teeth with it.

*for those not pop culture inclined, Ke$ha is a singer who brushes her teeth with a bottle of Jack in this song.  (I was going to link to Tik Tock, but it is really a terrible song with what I now know is an even worse video. Surprising considering her tour's name was Get Sleazy. I just threw up in my mouth learning that. Which probably tastes as good as brushing your teeth with Jack Daniels)

Acupunture or Voodoo?

 I think it might be the latter.

Acorn

You can curse pinterest for this little gem.

 Donut hole dipped in frosting or nutella, rolled in sprinkles, with a pretzel in the center. This deal was actually positive on the work-to-effect ratio. 15 minutes for about 40 for the husband to take to work for his presentation so I could be that wife. We hate her and want to be her. Pinterest makes it possible.

Happy Monday! Today my pain is your pleasure

Ever since J was a babe, she has had a firm dislike for her car seat and a love for my keys. So to make the loading process smoother, I would often let her hold my keys. Now that she is less fascinated with jingly metal, and more interested in buttons that do something, I give her the privilege of locking the car as we walk to the store and unlocking it when we load up. So as we were leaving the grocery store, I allow her request to "ode -dit"  (hold it) and unlock the car. I get her buckled in as she rejoices in a glorious reunion with her "banky." I throw my purse in the passenger seat, and go to return the cart like a responsible grocery shopper. As I return to the car I hear the most panic-inducing noise.

Honk.

Honk. honk

Oh crap. She is still holding my keys. That is the specific pitch of an '08 Honda Fit being locked.

Honk.

So this is how it happens. I always wondered how stupid a mom could be to let her kid lock her out of the car.

Now I know.

Meanwhile I see a delighted snaggle tooth grin through the tinted window. She is delighted to show how she can make the car sing.

Honk.

Honk.

Honk. Honk

Honk.

Honk.

No onlookers, this syncopation is not from a unique car alarm. I don't know if anyone was concerned or staring because I was focused on keeping the panic at bay by creating a little emergency action plan in my head while smiling and attempting to cajole my toddler out of her position of power. Ok self, I can just call Husband and he is 25 minutes away from opening the car with his key. The day is lovely, no harm will be done.

Hello cell phone in the front seat of the locked car! I hope you like your inaccessible perch.

Plan B then. Accost a stranger with my best haggard mother face and ask to borrow a cell phone. Call husband for rescue.

Or Plan C, break a window. I know from experience that a pumpkin thrown at our back window will shatter  the glass. Thank you New Mexico vandals of 2009. I also know there is a reason I pay for full glass coverage on my insurance. We will see how long I can keep the hysteria at bay before indulging in this choice. Besides, then I'd have to figure out what to use to break it.

I decide to continue to try my luck for a few more minutes, smiling hopefully with my nose pressed to the glass, gesturing to my daughter as I say, "No, the other button, sweetie!" another dozen or so times.

Honk.

Honk.

She has a thumb on each button and still thinks this is oodles of fun taunting me with each honk.

Honk.

As she holds it out to me, offering to let me take it, "No! No! You keep it! Just please don't drop it!" Meanwhile I run to the driver's door, remembering that one click opens the driver's side, two for the others.

Honk.

Man my car horn is loud.

Honk.

Honk.

Really Loud.

Honk.

Honk.

Click.

OH BEAUTIFUL EARTH AND SAVIOR! THANK YOU LORD!

My manic handle-pulling has paid off and I catch the split second window between thumb dexterity exercises. I get in in driver's seat with a big sigh of relief, retrieve my key from a happy little almost two year old and say, "Ok time for a thank you prayer to Heavenly Father."

"Deet oo!"