Jinx

It's possible that I believe in the possibility of jinxing things, but I might also be suspicious enough to think you can double-jinx and thereby unjinx things. It's kind of like using a double negative - if you jinx something twice, that's the opposite of jinxing it.

Thus, jinx #1: Mila was AMAZING on Friendsgiving.

We host a bunch of people the Sunday after Thanksgiving every year. It serves as a sort of deadline for getting the house all put together for Christmas, plus it means the house ends up clean. I am absolutely one of those people who only cleans when other people might see it. Between the cleaning (Which WOAH. We might need to host a little more frequently so it's never that bad again.) and the cooking, I had no time to make sure Mila wasn't standing in the corner with a book of matches while she tested to see whether Little People or Pillow Pets are more flammable. She was truly on her own for most of the morning, with the freedom to play with whatever she wanted.

You guys, on a normal day, I pull her down for bookshelves and tables at least 18 times. She didn't climb AT ALL.

She played quietly. And peacefully. And was super independent and awesome.

It couldn't possibly happen twice, right?

Time for jinx number two! Last night Mila joined me for a girls' night out. There's nothing better than Mexican food followed by milkshakes (yes, my girls' nights out are very fancy). Except, it turns out Mila disagrees. The second she figured out that we were headed downtown, Mila decided we must be repeating Light Up Night. Light Up Night was basically us walking around with milkshakes and watching fireworks, and MAN does that kid love fireworks.

Obviously, Pittsburgh has fireworks every night. That's what Mila thinks, at least. It's not all that far from the truth, frankly, except that there were no fireworks on this random Wednesday at the end of November.

When Mila realized there were going to be no fireworks, I waited for fireworks. I know the moment it happened, and even in retrospect, I'm in awe. Mila didn't try to throw the earth from its orbit. Instead, she focused on sparkly Christmas lights and "Mila's tree" by PPG Place.

All trees are her trees.

Which means I told her there would be no fireworks and that the tree wasn't hers both in the same night.

And I lived to tell the tale.

I don't know what this magical voodoo is that has resulted in Miss Mila acting like a pretty awesome kid lately, but I'll take it. Or I won't not take it. Whichever words are most likely to unjinx the thing I'm not jinxing.