If you ask Leina what color she wants, she will always answer “blue!”

If you ask her how many she wants, she will always answer “nine!”

And today, I taught her how to say “drama queen” after a particularly moving meltdown because I refused to let her put the steak knife in her mouth.

“Damma keen!” she now gleefully shouts.

I’ve decided to mount the video camera in the living room and just keep it recoding all day long ’cause every moment she is too precious.

“Damma keen! Nine! Nine! Nine!”

Here’s our standard morning routine.

Leina wakes up anytime between 6:45 andf 7:20am. When she does, Kevin takes her downstairs and gives her a cup of milk and they sit together on the sofa watching PBS or a DVD for a while. At 7:30, I lumber out of bed and head downstairs to take over while Kevin eats his cereal and heads up to the bedroom to bath and get ready to head to work. Usually, while he’s leaving for the day, Munchie and I are just starting our breakfast routine. This all works out wonderfully. Kevin gets precious snuggle time and I get an extra couple of minutes of shut eye.

Of course, all this changes when Kevin is on swing.

Now, he gets home anytime between midnight and 1am so when the Munchkin starts calling “UPUPUPUPUPUP!!!!!” from her room, we’ll switch off who needs to get her. If Kevin goes, he’ll snuggle on the sofa, half asleep, until I get down there and then I send him back to bed for another couple of hours. But lately, he’s been too tired to be roused even for Munchie snuggles so I’ve been taking over in the morning.

The other day, while Kevin slept and Leina fed herself and dolly, I made Kevin breakfast. This consisted of scrambled eggs with melted cheddar cheese, southern style hashbrowns, three strips of crispy bacon and freshly butted wheat toast finished with a big glass of milk. When Kev managed to get downstairs, lulled by the smell of the food, he was estatic.

That night he got home from work early at 11pm so the next morning, he rolled out of bed to get Munchie. I slept in till after 8am and when I awoke, I was hungry.

“I wonder what goodies Kevin has for me…” I mused as I trapsed down the stairs.

Imagine my surprise when I rounded the corner to the kitchen to find empty counters and no delicious morning smells.

“Hey Kev,” I cried in dismay, “where’s my breakfast?!?!”

Kevin looked up from the paper and reached over the table.

“Here’s your breakfast, hon!” he exclaimed as he tossed me an unopened package of instant oatmeal.

Where’s the love, I ask you?

Kevin is working swing shift this month. He’s been putting in long hours and working hard on a bunch of time sensitive projects. His day starts at 2pm and usually ends sometime after midnight. This this afternoon, at 1:30pm his pager went off with a message for him to call into work.

Now Kevin, being the sweet, optomistic person he is, immediately thought it was his boss telling him not to come in and take the day off.

Myself, however, being a realist (aka pessimist) immediately jumped to the conclusion that something had gone so horribly wrong that they couldn’t even wait 30 minutes for him to get there.

It’s now 1:45pm. Kevin is at work.

I don’t know whether to be pleased for calling it right or despondent. The tool broke and it looks like a working weekend for Kev. Sigh. At least the sun’s still shining and the kid went down for her nap lickity-split so all is not lost!

Hope your friday is more sweet than sour…..

Leina has a bully.

I’m part of the mom’s club here in Sherwood and it’s wonderful. Full of fun, energetic moms who are always planning outings and adventures. The best part is that each child is assigned to an age appropriate playgroup. Leina’s group just happens to be all girls and Leina is the youngest by about three or four months. The moms are a blast and it’s a wonderful thing to look forward to each week.

At least for me.

Leina, however, is learning a very hard life lesson. Kids push. They take your toys. They don’t always share. And most of the time, you want what they have. For an only child these are all new and (more often than not) not so wonderful facts of life.

The one girl closest to Leina’s age is going through a pushing phase. Since Leina is the only one smaller/younger than her, Leina’s the target. She shoves, Leina falls and the crying begins. Leina has no idea what is happening to her. She is completely mystified as to why she’s being pushed. She’ll run up to me, tears dripping, and stutter…..”Leina push! Leina fall down! Leina owie!”

While I comfort Leina, the pusher gets a time out, a “no pushing” lecture and is made to say “sorry”. Of course, right after the “sorry” she pushes again. Sigh. She is, however, getting better. Today at playgroup there was only one push and it occurred when both kids went for the same toy.

And while Leina’s been learning about the hard knocks of life, I’ve been learning a thing or two as well. I’m well aware of the fact that in a short time Leina will go on her very own pushing/biting/hiting/kicking binge so I’m watching my friend as she deals with her daughter. It ain’t easy and I shudder to think that all too soon I’ll be apoligizing and trying to keep a firm eye on my very own trouble maker.

But so far, Leina has resisted the urge to push back and instead seeks refuge in her mother’s arms. Of course, this kind of defeats the purpose of playgroup since Leina refuses now to play with anyone at all. And while part of me wants to teach her to fight back, my wiser half knows that teaching her to turn the other cheek is also an important skill. Of course, try explaining this to a toddler with a very limited vocabulary and sensitive tushie. Ah my poor baby girl!

It all started over five measily dollars. Oh, what I would pay now to avoid what happened. Hundreds? Thousands? But enough crying over spilled milk. Here’s the story.

My little city of Sherwood boasts 14000 residents and two grocery stores – Safeway and Albertsons. When we moved in over the summer I shopped both stores and found the following facts. Safeway was cleaner and had better meat and produce but Albertsons was cheaper. For a while, I bought produce and meat at Safeway but made a seperate trip to Albertson’s for sundry items like ziploc bags and cereal. After a while, I got lazy and found myself an exclusive Safeway shopper. Sure, it cost more but they had better quality food and (equally as important) a better Starbuck plan. Albertsons must have noticed that I had disappeared because they sent me a coupon that saved me $5 bucks for every $20 I spent.

This seemed like a good deal.

So Munchie and I did our weekly shopping at Albertson’s last week. It hadn’t changed. The lettuce was wilted and slimy, the donuts stale, the aisle dirty but hey, I was gonna save five whole bucks! I limited my total to $20 and walked away feeling pretty darn good.

Until Sunday.

Sunday morning dawned over our fair city with a glorious burst of blue sky and sunshine. The birds sang, the cows mooed and all was right in our little bit of suburbia. Kevin awoke with The Kid and snuck her downstairs for breakfast while I slept in. He gave her the end of the Safeway milk and used the remnants for his cereal. Being a milk lover, he opened the brand new Albertson’s carton of milk and poured on an extra helping of milk. Then, he hooked up the dog, bundled up the kid, and went for a morning stoll.

As soon as I heard the door slam, I rolled out of bed and waddled downstairs for a nice quite morning alone in the house. No husband throwing dirty socks on the sofa, no small child insisting she needed to sit in my lap, and no dog drooling down my leg as I ate my own bowl of cereal with just a splash of milk. It was wonderful.

Kevin, kid and mutt returned all too soon and our day began. About half an hour later, I noticed I was feeling a bit off. No big deal really. I mean, I *am* seven months pregnant. I chalked it up to general pregnancy ickiness and tried to shake it off until I noticed Kevin looked a little green and kept visiting the bathroom. We compared notes and were not please. Both of us had an upset stomach and Kevin admitted he thought the milk tasted a bit funny. Yes, the I-saved-five-bucks-Albertson’s-milk. The expiration date was March 13th but it was bad.

We went from bad to worse. By noon, we were both curled on the sofas, groaning and green faced in absolute food poisoning hell.

Poor, sweet Leina. She didn’t drink any of the Albertson’s brew and, as such, was feeling great. She wanted to play outside. She wanted to swing. She wanted to go for a walk. She ended up spending most of the afternoon tugging on us pleading…”out mommy…out daddy…peeeeease!”

Aroung 1:30, I caved in. I went and got Leina’s training potty and placed it on my lap. Kevin took munchie upstairs. The next wave of sickness that hit, I didn’t fight it, just bent over that small blue seat, held onto those little yellow handles and hurled down the hole. Over and over and over.

It felt wonderfully horrible. I was free. Exhausted, but no longer nauseaus. I immediately fell asleep and when I awoke, I felt like a new woman. So I took the kid and advised Kevin to follow my lead. He refused and decided to tough it out. He still looked green around the gills when we went to bed that night but he seems to have recovered fully. Of course, we lost a whole day. One beautiful, sunny, Sunday down the toilet (literally) all to save five measily bucks.

I don’t care how many coupons Albertson’s sends me, I am never going there again. But on the bright side, I learned that Leina’s training potty makes an excellent puke bowl so I suppose all is not lost.

I’m definately entering the last trimester. I’ve found myself obsessing over our house. Getting the guest room converted to a nursery, weeding the yard and planting flowers, and rifling through all our stuff. I have the uncontrollable urge to purge. I want to start in one room and touch *everything* asking that deep universal question….”do I really need this*. I think Kevin has noticed me giving him the eyeball because he’s been very helpful lately vaccuming and doing dishes. So far, I’ve put him in the “keeper” pile.

Of course, this could just be my yearly spring cleaning blitz. What, you ask, spring cleaning in Feb? Ah yes, have I failed to mention that we here in Portland are have a record breaking lovely dry spell? All our nasty rain and clouds are hovering somewhere over California while we are experience beautiful spring weather. Sunny, mild and gorgeous.

Leina is awash in joy. She loves grass, rocks, the sandbox, and of course, the swing. She wakes up, rise from her crib and asks…. “swing?” You can find her at any moment with her face pressed up against the sliding glass door, pounding her dimpled little hands on the glass, chanting “swing-swing-swing.” I have to admit that I tend to oblige her. I get a lawn chair, a large glass of ice tea, my slippers and the daily crossword puzzle and out we go. Leina gets to swing and talk to the bushes and watch the dog while I lazily push her with one hand while sipping tea and tring to figure out 45 across. Ahhh, what wonderful days!

Of course, this will all come to a crashing hault when the rains return (as they inevitably will) and I forsee many a meltdown while I try to explain to my little tyrant that it is to wet/cold/miserable outside to swing.

But until then, I’m living the good life.