Can You Hear Me Now? What About Now? Now?

Yesterday at this time I was living high on the knowledge that some of what I say to the Toddler actually sinks in to her thick little skull. I was so very excited and so pleased to think that we might just be making some progress . . . now? Not so much.

Anytime a certain little someone finds it necessary to throw some sort of fit, I find it necessary to turn into a cold-hearted statue that has nothing better to say than, "Are you done yet?" or "When you're done, we can talk about (whatever it is that has her blowing smoke out of her ears)." I refuse to allow a few crocodile tears, yelling, foot stomping, or death threats sway my resolve to raise a child who asks nicely when she wants something. A little 'please' now and then never hurt anybody.

Anyway, Shell (the world's greatest daycare teacher) has been reporting some minor issues with nap time. Someone who shall remain nameless (but she's the 32-inch tall boss of our house) has been fighting naps as if her life depended on it. Trust me when I say the girl still needs that afternoon nap. She needs it like she needs food, water, and oxygen. So yesterday Miss-I-Don't-Sleep was getting all sorts of cranky because Shell thought she should take a nap like the other 20 Toddlers. Finally, Shell walked away and left the stubborn one to her moping and whining and fitting. A few minutes later, the Toddler walked up to Shell and said, "I'm done now, Shell." And POOF! the fit was gone.

See why I was excited? See that? She figured out that she needed to stop throwing a fit all by herself. Pride emanated from my every pore when I realized what had transpired. But now that pride has been sliced into a million little pieces by the double-edged sword that is a Toddler having heard what she's been told.

Tonight we made the unfortunate error of trying to stuff our faces at KFC. I say "unfortunate" primarily because holy-heck was that crap gross. Never before had Alexis met a bowl of macaroni and cheese that she didn't want to take a bath in, but tonight she spit it out so fast I thought I was watching a new form of food Nascar. While I tried to convince her that the mashed potatoes weren't poisoned, she tried to convince me that there was a new sheriff in town. Or at least the laws of the land had changed. She would.not.stop standing up in her chair, all the while watching my every twitch to see if maybe, just maybe, this time I would suddenly change my mind about the whole 'standing on the furniture is bad' thing. I could actually see her thinking through her every move.

"If I stand up now, will I get in trouble?"

"What about now?"

"How about now?"

"What if I stand up backwards. Will I get in trouble for that?"

"How about now?"

"I'm standing up s l o w l y. Is that bad?"

"What about now?"

Each time she would plant those tiny little shoes on the top of the chair, all I would have to do is say "sit" and she would --hesitate-- then plop back down. Then try it again.

Just as I felt my last nerve get tweaked to its absolute limit, it was time to go. So we wandered over to everyone's favorite place to lose their patience, K Mart. This time, it was time to test just how long you can dawdle before getting in trouble.

"I'm walking s l o w l y. It's SO f u n n n n n."

Alexis, let's go.

"Hey, look! Something shiny! Let's touch it."

Alexis, let's go.

"Is this floor white or cream? I need to investigate it more closely. I think I'll sit down."

Alexis, let's go.

"Is that a ball?"

Alexis, let's go.

"Mommy, there's Christmas lights over there!"

Huh? Wha? . . . Alexis, let's go.

"Wow! Would you look at my shoes. They're Nikes!"

ALEXIS, LET'S GO.

On and on we went, dragging a quick five-minute run into the store into a one-hour extravaganza. Each time I would fuss at her, she would suddenly snap back into shape, only to go back to tight-walking that line between good and bad a few seconds later.

So, yeah, she hears what I'm saying. But she's pretty sure if she keeps stomping on my last remaining nerve she can break me.

I will. not. be. broken. I don't care how cute she is with pigtails in her hair.

Caution: Photo Overload

You asked for them, so here they are. Photos of the trees. Outdoor light photos will be coming either this weekend or early next week, depending on the Toddler's mood and the weather.

I don't actually count this as a "tree" per se since it's only about two feet tall, but this is Alexis' little starter tree. We are buying her an ornament or two or five every year for the rest of her life.

(Let's not talk about the fact that she's nearly two and I still haven't finished painting her room, mmkay?)

Here's one of her ornaments. I had it engraved at Things Remembered last year (after Christmas--I don't believe in paying full price for anything). It has her birth date (1-27-2006) and her weight because I am NEVER letting her forget that whole 9 pounds 12 ounces thing.

Now let's move on to my favorite tree--the Hodge Podge tree. It houses all of my favorite ornaments. Each and every one has some sort of story that goes with it. It sits atop our fireplace because I would most certainly lay an egg if anybody broke one of these ornaments.

Many of the ornaments are motion ornaments. My husband is required by law to buy one for me every year. I have one for each year we've been together. This is one of my favorites. It's the scene from Winnie the Pooh where Pooh gets stuck in Rabbit's hole. The whole gang moves back and forth as they try to unstick the chubby Pooh.

This is the one I got last year. It has a train that goes around the bottom and carolers that appear to sing for a moment, then go back inside.

And here's the Snow White one. She kisses each of the dwarfs as they walk around in a circle.

There are also ornaments for each of the special critters in our house (except Meg--I haven't found just the right one for her yet). Here's Powder:

When he was a kitten, he used to sleep in the lap of one of my giant stuffed bears and looked EXACTLY like that.

This one is Coal:

He's totally our angel. That's one cat with a serious guilt complex; we never catch him doing anything he shouldn't.

This is Prince:

He was the cat that slept in our Christmas tree, so it's fitting that his ornament shows him upside down and decked out in Christmas spirit.

This is Jasmine's ornament:

Lhasa Apso ornaments aren't exactly sitting on every street corner, so I had to settle for one that didn't match her colors.

Next up, my favorite tree. The Winnie the Pooh tree:

It doesn't photograph very well since most of the ornaments are resin (note to self: and because there are too freakin' many red lights on the thing--fix it next year!)

Next up, my favorite tree, the Boyds tree:

The Boyds tree is a perfect example of my cheap ways. I have never paid full price for a single one of these ornaments. Many have been gifts over the years, others I bought in January when they were half-priced. All are super-cute plush love.

And now for the big one, my favorite, the Magazine tree:

Picture perfect? Yes. Note the clear display of my OCD--even the wrapped gifts under the tree have to match the tree itself. It's no coincidence, folks. I keep an eye out every January for red/white/silver wrapping paper and ribbons because if the gifts don't match, my head might explode.

You might have noticed a trend of the cheap variety? It is my mantra with this tree. It has taken years to collect all of these ornaments and I am proud to say I have never paid full price for a single one (except the dollar store ones, but those probably don't count). Last year I added the glass candy canes. I bought seven boxes when they were 75% off at Target.

And now you all know where to find me after Christmas--the clearance aisles at Target. (Yes, I know you are all dying to know what happens when my OCD spreads to the great outdoors and manifests itself in the form of 15,000 outdoor lights. Photos have finally been posted.)

Insert Guilt Here

In a feeble attempt to wipe away memories of a certain football game, I spent the past hour or so wrapping Christmas presents. We're way ahead of ourselves this year with the shopping, in no small part thanks to the constant rain we've been having. If I can't put up lights, I figure we might as well do something Christmas-related

Alexis loves to "help" me with the wrapping. I suppose the fact that she has helped me wrap her own presents is going to take some of the surprise factor out of it all for her, but I refuse to care. I have the rest of her life to have to be sneaky with the gift buying and wrapping. Mostly she likes to help because she likes to paw and grope other people's presents. She's quite convinced that several packages that are clearly marked with other names are going to somehow end up permanently in her possession.

That is where the guilt sets in. We have not bought her a single thing for Christmas this year. Not a one. Sure, she has plenty of packages under the tree, maybe too many. But not a single one of them was an item that was bought just because of the holiday season. She has a Gap outfit that I bought last month because the jeans, sweater, and shirt were on clearance and cost a whopping $21 all together. I wouldn't have passed that by regardless of the circumstances. But since she's not currently hurting for clothes to wear, I tucked them away and declared them "Christmas." There is a pair of Dora pajamas that Daddy found on sale. When he tried to put them on her one night, I ripped them from his hands and called them "Christmas" as well. She's also got about ten books under the tree. Every single one of them was at TJ Maxx on clearance for $3-$4. I would have bought just as many of them in July as I did Thanksgiving weekend. I proceeded to hold them aside for gift-giving.

Probably her biggest gift is going to be a whole bunch of new Signing Time DVDs. If we're being honest, those are absolutely a gift for the adults in the house. As much as we love the all of the songs from the episodes she already owns, it's SO time for some new music. With a long car trip to Indianapolis in the near future, I guarantee I'll be busting those suckers out for the drive. She can happily stare at her portable DVD player along the way and we can enjoy the sounds of music we have never heard before. She'll be excited, but trust me, I'm more excited. They are brand new episodes that were just released on December 3rd. I would have bought them no matter what.

Notice the lack of actual toys? There is one doll under there, but only because it was on clearance for $7. Other than that, she's out of luck. No toys for Alexis. I'm mean like that.

The good news is that the girl has oodles of Grandparents that will likely come through for her in the toy department. If they don't, we'll be hitting the clearance racks and making sure she gets a toy-filled birthday next month. That is, after I go through all of her current toys and donate a few boxes of them to Goodwill. We do it every Christmas, and it's one tradition that doesn't make me feel guilty at all.

If you need a pick-me-up after that game like we do, go play this. Kicking Tom Brady's butt will make you feel a tiny bit better, I promise.