Daddy's On Fire

I love what kids pick up on and repeat….

The other night we were all sitting down to dinner. Michael finished up and started clearing some things off the table and then preparing for Camille’s nightly bed time routine, since it was getting to be that time.

When he came back to the table Camille started telling him, “Daddy, on fire. Daddy, on fire.”

He looked at her quizzically, “Daddy on fire?” And then, “Yeah, Daddy’s on fire. You’re right. He’s so good, your daddy’s on fire! Smart girl!”

He looked at me very amused and asked, “Where is she getting this?”

I reminded him, “Because when you left the room, you announced you were going upstairs to turn ON her humidiFIER.”

My Ideal Mom-Mobile

Both Michael and I drive cars that are 1998 models. In the past couple months we dropped a chunk of change for maintenance, upkeep, and repair. Suffice it to say that we are keeping in the back of our minds the very real prospect of having to replace at least one of the vehicles (hopefully not both at the same time!) in the next several years. Since Michael drives a Honda Accord, and they are fabulous cars that keep much of their value, we’re thinking I’m up to get the first new car. And since we have 2 car seats in our future, we’re thinking in terms of a slightly larger vehicle than my little Saturn, but still not quite an SUV. The Mom-mobile.

My all-time ideal mom car: a late 80’s, early 90’s model Jeep Wagoneer. Practical for gas mileage, age maintenance and NOT being an SUV? No. But I love them. They just scream of an open, minimalistic interior, a large back bench seat, tons of space, throw the kids and the crap in the car, bump around, don’t have to be graceful vehicle. Something about that makes me breath happy.

I’m also thinking about the Honda Element, even though I think they look mildly atrocious and very closely resemble a mail truck. Again, there’s something about the open interior that I dig. And the ones that I have been up close to have a completely plastic interior, so in the event of a huge mess you pull the seats out and hose out the car. That quirk makes me smile. If we do go in this direction and I wind up with a car that I already think is mildly obnoxious, I’d have to go all the way and get it in the burnt orange color. But I do really like the charcoal/black, too.

And recently I’ve been noticing the Saturn Vue. My little Saturn has been so good to me that I would love owning another one. Not a bad looking vehicle, I think, but the thing with these smaller, half-SUVs is that they really don’t have much more space than any regular 4-door sedan, so you might as well go for a regular 4-door sedan.

I had also been eyeballing the Outback; we have friends who highly recommend their Vibe (very cool); and Michael’s mom recently got a Honda CR-V, which is nice and roomy and not too bad on the gas mileage. We were even considering a Magnum, which I hated until Michael voiced my exact thought: man’s station wagon. Eeew. Then I liked them.

Who knows. Lots of these are pretty much SUVs anyway. We’ll probably wind up with something I hadn’t even thought of. And that is (keep your fingers crossed) still a couple years down the road…..

Happy Birthday, Little Girl

Camille marked her 2-year-old birthday this evening by, well, behaving like one. No nap at school today. Lovely.


She's upset because we wouldn't let her put Nilla Wafers in the egg carton. Between pathetic sobs, she's telling me "no cheese!" Meaning, 'don't take my picture, I won't smile for the camera!' I know...I'm a horrible mother. He, he.


She was excited about the adorable panda (dubbed Pennelope) that daddy found for her, though.


And she was fascinated by the candles and singing.


The cake itself was a different issue, however. In the first place, I was frustrated by my less than stellar icing job (the sprinkles are "covering up" all the cake crumbs in the icing that occurred as I tore up the top of the cake while spreading the icing). Camille wound up spitting out the first bite of cake that Michael tried to help her with. Then she ate half the icing off the top, shuddered (too sweet?), and pulled the rest of the icing off her piece and gave it to me. "No likie, no wannie, yucky." She wouldn't touch anything else, but still got upset when we tried to take her plate. Great.

Then, suddenly, wouldn't you know.... It's bed time!

Happy birthday, little girl. I'm looking forward to the adventures of the year to come. Maybe. :o)