heredity

It's funny what we pass on to our kids, and I say that sitting at the computer eating cold chicken fried rice out of a Chinese take out container.

For breakfast.

I remember walking in the kitchen as a kid and seeing my dad lean against the counter in his bathrobe with the little white take out box in one hand and a fork in the other scarfing down cold fried rice or chow mein. I thought it was horrible that he did that. Gross.

But anytime we have Chinese take out you can find me eating cold fried rice out of the carton the next day. Heredity.

It causes me to wonder what bothersome traits I may pass on to K... I don't have to search too hard to see ways in which she has already taken after me... she has my imagination.

That can be a beautiful thing, and as I watch her play with dolls or just a piece of paper and hear her whispering secrets to the world she's created I'm proud of her. When she sits on a chair swinging her legs loudly singing lyrics she's made up on the spot I glow with pride. When she dictates a poem to me in hopes I'll write it down for her I marvel at her innovation and when she writes and illustrates a fantastic story with nothing more than a pencil and a pad of post it notes I am awestruck...

But all that greatness, it comes at a price. With all the beautiful wanderings of her mind come the maudlin cries of a girl whose mind can reach the farthest, darkest corners of this universe... and then venture a little further. Her nightmares and scary imaginings are every bit as vibrant as her dreams and stay with her just as long...

I've explained to her, and I think she understands, that with the good there is often some bad. Things have a way of balancing themselves out. That it's hard to grasp happiness when you haven't known sorrow. Fearlessness without Fear. Day with out Night...

I'm glad she has such an active imagination, such a creative mind... but sometimes I wish she'd just pick up a carton of cold fried rice instead...

key hole...

Some days are more important than others when you look at the big picture, and I'm sure someday when I look at that picture this particular day may not mean as much as it does right now...

A little before 10 AM I headed out with Missburrows to do some shopping, the day passed quickly and as she dropped me off at K's school 5 minutes before pick up time I was thinking ahead 4 1/2 hours to the PTA meeting I needed to go to. I strolled onto the playground with my purse slung over my shoulder and my purchases in a bright red bag and I waited.

Some days it seems to take forever before the kids are let out for the day and I can head home so I busied myself talking with a few of the parent's from K's class and friends from the neighborhood. I made plans to go to the PTA meeting with a few gal friends and then waited impatiently for the next 60 seconds for them to let my kid out for the day...

And then she was by my side and we were strolling off hand in hand heading home. She was hungry so I pulled a bag of craisens out for her to nibble on. Moments after she bit down on the first soft dried cranberry her face twisted in agony... I'm sure it was just discomfort but to her it was horrible pain. Assuming she bit her cheek I told her it would be fine and smoothed my fingers along her cheek. She popped another craisen into her mouth and her prior reaction was duplicated... and then as we were crossing the street the tears came. Once we were safe on the other side she told me her tooth was bugging her and I leaned down to look at her mouth... that's when I saw it.

Blood.

Oh.Dead.Lord. WHY IS SHE BLEEDING?

I mean I totally knew why she was bleeding, she had a loose tooth. What I meant was WHY NOW? Why not when her dad was home or when she was at school or any moment that didn't require me to do tooth related parenting all by myself.

You may recall months ago she thought she had a loose tooth and wanted to show me but it turned out that tooth really wasn't that loose at all. But I never really looked, so how can I be sure? Because that was in April...

I bit back my trepidation and told K how exciting this was, how great it is that she was about to lose a tooth! She burst into tears and I had to pick her up to keep us moving on our way. We stopped to talk to a friend of mine as she walked down the street and since she has 2 kids who have both lost teeth and this was the first time for both K and myself we asked her to take a peek. She smiled and told K what I had already said. How exciting this was. That she was about to lose her first tooth! That the tooth fairy would probably be coming TONIGHT!

K's tears came in greater waves and we carried on.

"An apple" K exclaimed with one finger in the air, "I need an apple so I can bite it and get my tooth out!"

We took a detour to the grocery store for apples! and caramel! and a bottle of water (I was parched)! and a jar of pickles! (we were out). Then with a bag full of clothing I bought when I was shopping with Missburrows, my purse, a heavy bag of groceries and a sobbing child and her backpack we headed home.

It was a really long walk, not so much for the distance but from the weight of merchandise I was carrying and the slow gait of a scared little girl, but we made it home eventually.

I took another quick peek at K's tooth and then sent her into the bathroom to wash up while I sliced an apple. When she joined me, still in tears, I handed her an apple slice and took one of my own. As she sat down I showed her what I thought would be the most effective method of getting the tooth out through clever use of apple...

"Call Daddy" she cried... and so I did and got his voicemail.

"Call Nana" she managed between sobs... and so I did and she answered.

I quickly explained the situation as K prepared to bite down on her apple slice when my other phone rang.... It was Dr Normal. I held one phone to each ear as I watched K cautiously bite down on her apple.

Nothing happened.

I explained to my mom and Dr. Normal what was going on and K tried again. Nothing happened. I was about to tell her that maybe it was too soon when suddenly...

"I GOT IT" she cried out.

Her tears turned to shock, her shock to joy, her joy to horror as she realized she had NO IDEA where her tooth had gone.

"I have to go, I'll call you back" I yelled into both phones at once.

I looked at K in her moment of pure panic and then glanced down at the plate I'd given her for her tooth and apple and there it sat looking like a teeny tiny little piece of apple. I whisked it away to put into a cup and then filled a mug with salt water for her to rinse with.

At 2:52 on Tuesday September 9th, 2008 my little girl lost her first tooth. In the scale of things, in the story of her life, in the history of the world this might not be a big moment... But today it feels like the most important day ever.

Congrats on loosing your first baby tooth K! I love you.

when your siblings say meow...

It was morning, K and I had just finished eating breakfast and I had a ton of things to do before our busy day got underway. K went downstairs and brought up one of the heavy blankets we use for picnics and laid it down on the floor. Next she began hauling dolls out into the living room.

This isn't an unfamiliar scenario. K plays by herself very well, she has to since she has no siblings. The set up process can be time consuming and because of that it's often the longest stretch of quiet time I get during the day. She needs no help to establish her play area. She can get out hundreds, thousands, millions of toys, blankets and pillows without any assistance (putting them away? that's another matter).

Suddenly the silence was broken much earlier than it should have been. There was trouble in the land of K...

K: Maaammmmaa!

Me: What's up babe?

K: Maaaaammmmmmaaaa make him stop it!

Me: Make who stop what?

K: Him. Tell him to leave me alone! This is MY BLANKET and I need him to get off it.

Me: What?

I got up from my very important task *cough* twittter *cough* and went into the living room to see what the big problem was. K looked at me with a face I know I'd made a million times as a child when my brother decided he had nothing better to do than bug me.

K: Maaaaaaaamma... he's just trying to bother me... can't you make him go away?

Sitting there quite happily, perfectly still, poised like a lion was my black cat. I smiled at K then reached down and stroked Spike's fur. He rose to greet me and meowed before stretching a bit and sauntering away. I turned to K, but before I could speak again she was back to the business of arranging her dolls as she snarled:

You know he just does that to bug me

She's probably right.

sweet dreams are made of these...

I don't have it in me today to talk about things I want to talk about.

The things I should be talking about, thinking about.

I put K to bed 3 hours ago and still she's wakeful.

Crying and wakeful...

Refusing to sleep.

and there is not a thing I can do.

colors...

I've found myself under an unusual amount of stress lately. This that and the other thing all pile on top of me and suddenly my chest starts to feel a little tighter. My mind starts to reel as I over think things. My patience wains and my temper starts to flare.

It's not one big thing, but a thousand tiny things.

I stop and try to breath. To remind myself that this is life and each day comes with a new set of problems and perks. Sometimes a simple reminder isn't enough though. A deep breath doesn't do the trick so I have to take matters into my own hands. Literally.

I sit at the table with markers, pencils or crayons. I open a coloring book, pull out a page and then I color. 1 page, 2, 3, 4. I keep coloring until my pulse slows, my breathing is normal and my patience is restored.

It's a good thing my daughter knows how to share.

****

If you're in SE Portland this afternoon (8/20/08), head over to the Moreland Farmers Market to see The Doc Normal John Borroz Trio with special guest Rob Shoemaker (of the Norman Sylvester band) on bass. They'll be playing from 3:30 - 5:30 pm.

The Market is located at SE Bybee/14th with free parking across the street at SE 14th/Glenwood.

anxiety

nerves.

funny things.

You never know what's going to set them off.

I realized a couple of days ago that K's school is starting in 2 1/2 weeks. That's plenty of time to do nothing and mess around, but to get all her back to school shopping done, buy school supplies, get her back on her sleeping schedule and emotionally prepare for the battle that is the first week of school?

2 1/2 weeks isn't nearly long enough.

I've gotten one of those important things done. School supplies have been acquired, even a new back pack and lunch box...

I have to tell you that when we got home from school supply shopping I audibly sighed with relief. I felt so much better that she had pencils, glue sticks, folders, scissors and all those other little bits that are so tiny but so important to everyday school life. I didn't even realize how stressed out I was until I felt that little bit of release.

Next up? Back to school clothes and shoes... I wonder if missburrows knows I'm forcing her to engage in back to school clothes shopping twice in the next 2 weeks... Probably best just to spring it on her while we're already shopping?

Now, getting her back on her bedtime schedule? That's the biggest joke ever. I started getting her back on her bedtime schedule 2 weeks ago and I'm lucky if she falls asleep before 10:30 and I've been getting her to bed by 8.

Last but not least getting her (and me) emotionally prepared for back to school?

Ha.

That is all.

today...

I have no witty comeback for anything you say today.

no snark.

no snarl.

Today my little one, my darling K, will graduate from Kindergarten.

I remember the day we brought her home, how she was so tiny she fit into the curve of my arm. How I lifted her effortlessly and held her to me. I remember looking at her tiny features and thinking that someday soon, she would be growing up.

That she would learn to roll over.

Sit up.

Walk on her own.

Speak for herself.


She's done all that and so much more. I don't know how we could be more proud of the beautiful person she's become at the age of 6.

but even now... she's our baby.

the not so single mom...

As I'm sure you all know (or have guessed from the title of my blog) I am a mommy.

I have been a great number of other things in my life, some have stuck, some have not.

Mothering stuck.

It stuck and it took hold of my life in a way I never thought possible and 99.6% of the time I am grateful (oh so grateful) for that.

Another thing that stuck? Mr. Kaos.

Once I met him my life changed completely. Notice I say my life changed completely... but not me. I'm still the same person he met that night he met in a smoky jazz club, just a wizened softened version of that girl he met there.

That sounds like we met in a bar, and I guess technically we did, but it was arranged. It wasn't two strangers meeting in a dark corner and drunkly groping... we saved that for a few days later.
But if it weren't for meeting Mr. Kaos I wouldn't have ever been a mother. I don't think there's another person on this earth that I would have wanted to have a child with. When we first broached the topic of child rearing... when I first broached the topic... I couldn't believe the words were coming out of my mouth.

I wanted a child.

His child.

He was older (some would say significantly but I don't think so) so if he was going to have a child I knew the time was at hand.

It was a new thing for me (the child wanting not the older man having).

But we were in a good place.

We were happy. In love. In like.

He had a good job. A stable job. A house. A good reliable car.

We were as ready as we'd ever be.

Because really no one is ever READY for that first child... are they?

Because of Mr. Kaos' job we were able to make the decision that I would be a stay at home mom. It's what I wanted. It's what he wanted. It's what we needed for our family...

And so he worked during my pregnancy and I? Did not.

I couldn't have if I wanted to, I was ill from the very beginning of my pregnancy.

I spent every waking hour nauseas.

He spent every waking hour working, waiting on me hand and foot or talking to the little being that was growing in my belly.

And when K came a month early? Mr. Kaos took almost a month off work.

And then he went back.

And he worked and he worked and he worked.

And he helped me to raise our child.

And he worked and he worked and he worked.

And she got a little older. And we moved. And his job changed. It grew. It changed again.

And I grew and changed and K grew and changed and he grew and changed...

And he worked.

We're in a house that we love in a neighborhood we adore.

And he works.

And I raise our daughter.

There's more to it than that.

We work on our house, we work on our podcast, I write my blog, we spend time together on the weekends when we can...

But I raise our daughter.

I have his love and support, and those I could not do with out...

But oh how difficult it is to get K to bed on time when he leaves while we're getting ready to go and gets home when I'm putting her to bed.

And I know that it's hard for him. He's the one away from us for half the day. He's the one who doesn't see her smiling face until the sun is down and sleep overwhelms our house. He is the one who must toil away day after day in a place that is not his home.

But here I am with only her. And we laugh and we play. And we live and we learn. And we disagree and she melts down.

And she cries for her daddy... He must be kinder than me, the harsh rule imposing mommy. He is the magic man that swoops in on weekends and makes pancakes to rave reviews.

Everything I do is greeted by a little critic, though a critic that adores me.

And sometimes it's too much and I melt down.

I'm complaining. I am.

What I can't figure out is this: Is it hard for me because I need a bit more freedom or is it hard for me because I see the heartache he suffers because he doesn't have more time for us?

This is hard... It's life, I know it isn't easy...

Sometimes I just need to be able to say it.

death and the kindergarten mind

K: mama!?

CK: Shhhh... It's past your bedtime... No talking.

K: but mama... I have to ask you something... It's reeeealy important!

CK: *sigh* well make it quick...

K: if you have mucus and you don't use purell do you die!!? Cause Mary says you will but I don't believe her!!!

CK: No... You won't die. She doesn't know what she's talking about. Go. To. Sleep.

K: are you sure? She was really sure.

See, now I have proof that I'm not the one making my kid a crazy person...

wiggle wiggle

I never thought I would have such a problem with a wiggly something.

Something as innocuous as a little back and forth motion.

It's driving me mad.

Today I must wonder if I'm cut out for this parenting biz after all...

You see K has a loose tooth (2 actually).

And it's right up front.

And it's wiggling.

Back and Forth.

To and Fro.

Front to Back.

Or so I assume... I've only heard about it. incessantly.

I haven't seen it.

I really can't look. I can't even glance at it.

Earlier? I asked her which tooth it was and then when she showed me I looked at her forehead.

Please please please... let it come out at school.

haunted...

I'd like to be really serious for a moment... and I probably should be given what I'm about to show you but I'm having a bit of a hard time not giggling at K's similarity to me...

K made a dark piece of art... actually she made a series of three dark pieces.

dark. brooding. gothic.

for a 6 year old...

no, not for a 6 year old... for anyone really...

and I know I should be really serious here and wonder and worry what brought these dark thoughts into her mind... what brought them from her mind to the surface of these pages...

"The Black Garden"

Pretty self explanatory right? The black garden... a garden full of black flowers and grass with a raven soaring overhead... interesting but I didn't ask her what it meant... sometimes a picture is just a picture...

"The Blood Garden"

So aside from the name... this one isn't so creepy right? red tree? we have a red tree so that's totally fine. red flower? I love red flowers. All good. Oh and a cardinal flying overhead... nice touch...

"The Haunted Man"

Um... yeah. That's what it says... the haunted man... my daughter is 6... No, I don't let her watch horror movies... but she is a really big fan of Scooby Doo... I studied the picture carefully not sure whether I should laugh, cry or worry... I decided on none of the above...

CamiKaos: Wow, this is a really good picture.

KKaos: Thanks, did I spell it right?

CK: Yes, it's perfect. Really good job... do you want to tell me what's going on in it?

KK: It's just the haunted man mama.

CK: Just the haunted man? wanna tell me about him?

She proceeded to spin me the tale of a man who was haunted in life only to be cursed in death by becoming a vampire.

Haunted in life. Cursed in death.

Her words. Quite eloquent really.

I think I'm raising a horror novelist.

total parental failure...

For the past several days my little ray of sunshine and rainbows (and fantastic dance numbers) has been having a hard time.

At first I thought it was just because she was being bratty... I decided that may be a terribly harsh assessment of an otherwise lovely child.

Then I thought maybe it was because her social calendar has been so very full with school, homework, play dates, entertaining my friends, forcing them to do things like... oh become a mancess (man+princess equals mancess) or watching 3-D movies, coloring all over her mother's arms, putting bunny ears on people* staying up late, and shopping for gifts for her friends.

no mancesses were harmed in the making of this image

sadly I think missburrows was harmed

they're waiting for 3-D glasses to be in style

*okay okay... the bunny ears were MY idea... I think they make me look cute!

There was a lot of fun.. but was it too much fun? Ordinarily none of those things would cause the kind of meltdowns I was getting from her... something was not right... not right at all.

But what was it?

bom bom bom

Fricken teeth.

TEETH.

K just turned 6 and I do recall reading somewhere when she was little that kids get molars around the age of 6.

Guess what?

My 6 year old is teething. She's only been six for a couple of weeks and she's teething like a toddler. She's kind of drooly and generally really cranky and short tempered and melodramatic...

Well perhaps the melodrama is just a natural part of her personality... but I had to throw it in.

Why didn't I know this was coming?

What part of my brain was blocking this? And how much courage (stupidity) did it take to stick my finger in her mouth to check on the unseen thing that was bothering her? I mean she's a feisty little thing... I'm lucky she didn't bite my finger right off.

Was I supposed to keep reading parenting books after she was able to fluently communicate with me? Because um.... I think I forgot to.

H E double hockey sticks: special easter edition

I wrote this long ass post.

well I wrote half of it.

It was all about the early wake up on Easter and stuff...

It was really long.

REALLY LONG

and also really boring. and whiny. and not really funny.

so instead I will tell you that after she was done eating breakfast (I am that mean mom that makes the kid eat BEFORE the fun... because otherwise she won't eat a thing) locating all her treasures... and opening each egg and revealing the contents of it with delight... and eating a bag of Jelly Belly beans... she wanted to put on her new pretend pop star headset and listen to the Radio Disney hits CD that Mr. Kaos and I got her for her birthday (which was only 3 days ago...)

Let me make something clear; She REALLY wanted that CD and rather than buy her another toy or 10 that she doesn't need and I don't want her to have we decided to let her have it. We leave the excessive toy buying to other people.

So like I said we got her the CD and she was thrilled but we haven't had a chance to listen to it... until this morning...

That's where the hell part comes in.

Have we covered here on my blog that I love music? I love it with a fierce and fiery passion. I adore music. I've spent most of my life LOVING music and... well kind of disliking musicians. One thing is pretty consistent with me though... aside from some crazy 80's stuff and some gothy club music I danced to in my teens I hate music that has been processed and over produced... music that has had the spirit and the soul ripped from it.

This CD pretty much embodies what I can't stand about the recording industry these days.

I think I may be bleeding from my ears.

please make it stop...

help me...

please.

piece of cake...

we're still getting ready for K's party Saturday morning...

All I can say is that I'm late. I'm late for a very important date.

No time to say Hello...

GOODBYE

I'm late. I'm late. I'm late.

yesterday

I declined to talk yesterday about something of the utmost importance.

Well I didn't talk about it here.

It was a conscious choice.

Truth be told I'm not sure why I made it.

Yesterday though... was K's sixth birthday.

My little girl has gone from this


to this


in six years...

It took a lot for her to get from there to here. For her to go from laying around kicking her feet and looking adorable to putting two pens in her mouth at a dinner table and pretending they're blow darts... or whatever it was she was doing there (but no. no. she was not pretending to be a walrus... that is beneath her okay?)

The point is?

My little girl. My tiny one.

She is growing up. It's going quickly.

While I may complain about her idiosyncrasies... the insanity I sometimes feel she is driving me to... the fact that I am really tired... you know stuff...

I would never have it any other way. I love her.

completely.

wholly.

unconditionally.

yesterday and always.

day in the sun

I would have written a good post for today except that...

well Mr. Kaos had other plans.

You see we took K and her class on a field trip... and when that field trip was over and the kids were back in class he lured me downtown with the premise of buying K a book on space for her birthday...

He wasn't honest though. He totally had other plans. It was 11:30 he pointed out... and he was hungry so after parking the car he had the nerve to make me walk around downtown holding his hand while we looked for a place I wanted to eat.

Can you believe the nerve?

And once we chose the place... he turned off his damn phone and only paid attention to me.

ME.

Once lunch was done I had to walk around holding his hand until we reached our destination... the Big Local Bookstore my brother works for... though he wasn't at work. We browsed for a while until we found what we needed and then we headed out into the sun.

Let me restate that... the sunshine. In Portland. On a rainy day.

We walked toward the car only to realize that Ben and Jerry's blocked our way... what else could we do? The man took me out for some ice cream.

By then though it was time to return to the everyday. He had an appointment. I had to pick up K from school.

I brought her home and my mom volunteered to take her up to watch a movie...

so what did I do?

Well it was the perfect day... so of course I took a nap.

good times can come on surprising days.

an update... or...

My kid's ear could beat up your kid's ear....

Today we finally took K to the doc. I know it seems like we waited FOREVER to take her to the doctor but we had been assured that this bug that is going around lasts a loooooooonnnnnnnnng ass time.

Well today was the day that her doctor said ENOUGH. Little K Kaos can't be sick anymore, let's take a look and a listen.

I was relieved. What with the 6 days of off and on fevers... and the coughing... and the body aches... and the tired... and the whining... and the sniffles... and the tummy ache.

All manners of ill had befallen my little one, but still there was one that we didn't see coming.

The exam was going as expected, they weighed her and took her temperature which of course was normal because she was AT the doctor's office. She stopped sniffling because she was at the doctor's office. She stopped coughing because she was at the doctor's office. But her doctor took a look and a listen. She peeked inside her ear and said "So K is this ear bothering you?" K shook her head. Doctor P, that's what we'll call her, looked at me for a moment with a touch of concern then moved on the K's other ear. Then she went back and looked in the first ear and looked at me again. "Has she been tugging on it or touching it? Anything?"

I told her no, not at all.

"Wow K, you're one tough kid..."

K looked so proud... and then that pride swelled into a HUGE coughing fit and Doctor P asked "Is that how she's been coughing?" I said that yes it was, and that she gets stuck coughing that way and can't catch her breath.

As K put her boots back on Doctor P told me that K has, for the most part, what she's seen going around, that this is the worst winter she's seen as far as illness goes so we shouldn't worry or feel bad and that K's got one hell of an ear infection and it needs to be treated. Only I think maybe she didn't use the word hell...

Apparently K should be feeling some pain there. Apparently she should be crying and whining and tugging that ear while she sucks her thumb... but not my kid no...

My kid's ear could kick your kid's ear's ass.... cause she's tough...

Until you make her take yucky medicine... then she's just a puddle of crying goo hoping she'll get a powdered donut out of the deal...


***


What about me? Oh, what about me? I feel like shit. My fever is down but not gone. The thing that pisses me off the most?

Well aside from the fact that I read these posts too so I know how obnoxious the SICK posts are...

I was doing SO WELL on my Fit February work outs but I've now done nothing NOTHING more active than carrying K around the pharmacy while waiting for her prescription to be filled and that just about did me in...

The next post? Won't be about being sick. Maybe it will be about naming a penis or... Mr. Kaos' new computer... or about the fact that I'm going to be on Mr. Fab's show again this weekend....

Yeah, maybe one of those things. Or how much I love booze.

from the mouths of babes...

or maybe from the mouths, noses, hands and eyes of babes...

Do all of you know what kindergarten really is? It's some kind of test lab for breeding colds, flus and other assorted cruds. Since K started full day kindergarten in January she has been sick, I think, 4 times. Most of those were little one day home things where she needed the rest and I didn't want her snot faucet to run on the other children... once she missed 3 days of school with a high fever. For craps sake she missed school Friday because her nose was so runny she had a stomach ache.

No, I'm not joking.

But those germs... they don't just effect her... Even though we wash hands constantly, clean faces, all bathe and disinfect things Mr. Kaos and I have each been sick 3 or 4 times. Including now.

Why! Why did no one warn us that kindergarten was somehow a more effective breeding ground for germs than even preschool?

Why! Why do we keep catching these creepy cruds time and time again?

THIS SUCKS...

But I am not posting this to whine and complain. I am posting it as a warning to any of you parents that have not yet undergone the rigors of kindergarten...

You still have time.

It's not too late.

Buy your kid a plastic bubble.

mummification and the 5 year old mind...

Last year a large exhibit on ancient Egypt came through the Portland Art museum.

Something you should maybe know about me... I'm completely awestruck and fascinated by the ancient Egyptian civilization.

Mesmerized even.

So having that collection so close to our home... good thing for me. Mr. Kaos too finds the area of study intriguing so good thing for him.

K on the other hand... her only exposure to mummies and ancient Egyptian culture came courtesy of those meddling kids and their dog too.

We felt at 5 years old she was old enough for the real the thing.

We were... kind of right. She poured over each artifact and art piece. She marveled at the statues. She oohed and awed at the jewels. She was enthralled throughout the exhibit. She tried listening to the walking tour for kids but she got nothing from it. I switched her to the walking tour for adults (it had big words but somehow they managed to avoid the f-bomb). It was much more her speed. She craved real knowledge not kitschy bits of information.

We moved through each room seamlessly until we reached the area they had set as a tomb. It was dark enough that we had to pause just inside the doorway to allow our eyes to adjust.

Though the room held far too many people for my comfort, it was quiet. A sense of calm and awe seemed to have settled over the crowd as each person silently peered at each item in the room and tried to interpret the carvings the museum had replicated on the walls... She was shaken. Unsure of what would follow but she carried on her hand in mine. As we stepped into the next room we saw the sarcophagus which was one of the primary draws of the show. I moved her swiftly toward it noticing that another of the most interesting pieces, the mummy, lay encased in glass next to it.

I didn't tell her where we were heading.

I did not tell her the mummy lay next to the sarcophagus...

Not until we were withing a couple of feet of it.

K, my brave adventurous girl, froze.

She froze and seemed torn between her intense desire to run and her yearning to know.

I picked her up and settled her on my hip as I walked quietly to the case where we looked inside...

She peered into its wrapped face and let out a deep breath before she began to panic and demand that we leave the room.

RIGHT NOW MAMA.

I took her to a brighter area and set her down on the floor. She stood staring at me with tears in her eyes, panic in her voice, convinced that that mummy was going to chase her just like on Scooby Doo.

We calmed her down, Mr. Kaos took her so I could go back in to see the mummy and coffin and then hand in hand in hand the three of us strode out towards the rainy evening... On our way we stumbled upon a docent, K immediately went to her and told her urgently "Don't you know what they have in there! It's a real MUMMY"

I'm sure she thought it was a mistake and if she just told the right person they would rectify the situation.

That's my girl.

But that was a year ago... When she was almost 5.

Now she's just a month or so from her 6th birthday. It was a long week at school and typically on Friday we have a quiet walk home and treat ourselves to a tasty snack and some tv. Today she couldn't wait to get home.

To have that time with me.

To bake our cookies.

To watch The Mummy Who Would Be King.

It's all she could talk about... well that and the Captain Bogg & Salty show coming up...

We watched the whole show. She saw every inch of that mummy twice.

every. inch.

And now, a year later, she's asked if we can please take her to Egypt so she can study the royal mummies dynasty by dynasty.

Her words...

What a difference a year makes... with kids and mummies at least.

getting on with it...

I am trying oh so desperately to move on with the year... I know there are only a few days left and I need to break free from this holiday crazy thing.

You see now that the "holiday" is over I have to find a place for everything.

5 year olds, they get a lot of stuff for Christmas. When you factor in Santa, Mrs. Claus, The Elves, Nana&Papa, Grandpa&Grandma, Great Grandma, The other Great Grandma, Mom&Dad, Aunt&Uncle, the other assorted would be Aunt&Uncles and other random magically appearing gifts from friends, cousins and my hair stylist (am I the only person on earth with a hair stylist who gives my child presents?) it adds up to a lot.

Combine that with the sudden need Mr. Kaos had to rip a wall out of K's closet to check into something, the fact that there are two additional adults occupying the space that the 3 of us normally share and all the usual insanity around the Kaos house and you have a big.fricken.mess.

Plus K got My Sims for the Wii and um.... I've been helping her with it.

Then put the big ol cherry of my brand new toy on top... things have been a little crazy.

I'm trying to bring it down. I'm trying to get things organized, sorted, calm.

Oh how I want things to be organized, sorted and calm.

Before the whole organized and sorted thing can happen though I have to make another trip to IKEA to set K up with a brand new closet, get a curtain and other organizy type things for the bathroom and um... yeah, eat some Swedish Meatballs with french fries and gravy.


Yes, consumer whore cami is in full effect ladies and gentlemen...

Oh did I mention my fab new boots and scarf??