Sunday, October 31, 2010

Monday, October 25, 2010

The Many Moods of Miranda


Intent (note the "Tongue of Concentration")


and finally,

Just Plain Sad

Evan? Evan Who?

Hey Stranger.
I saw you last week. I thought you might say hello.

Maybe you thought I would.

I remember when our kids used to play together at the park.

I don't remember your name.

I remember your second daughter's birth, and that your husband was born at 32 weeks and turned out just fine. But I don't remember your name. Weird, huh? I don't remember your girls' names, either.

I wonder what we would have talked about, had we actually, you know, talked. It's not like me to not speak to someone I know.

Perhaps I was afraid. Afraid of the awkward "hellos" and the uncomfortable knowledge that we both have. I assume you know that Evan is dead.

Or maybe I was afraid I'd have another conversation like the one with another park parent. It wasn't really awkward. Just the skirting around a certain subject.

Evan? Evan who?

It's ok. I remember him, even if you don't.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Pep Talk

Do you ever get tired of people telling you to "think outside the box"?

Or, "You'll never fill so-and-so's shoes"?

And sometimes if feels as though the world is stacked against you.

I say you can have your cake and eat it, too.

And you can just dive right on in if that fork isn't fast enough!

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Panda's Panda Hat

My sister, Sherrie, is quite a good knitter. She's made the kids several things (including some adorable Winnie the Pooh finger puppets!) But I think my favorite is the Panda hat she made for Miranda, aka "Panda." But Miranda's got a big head. Not the ego kind...just a big noggin.

So, I tried the Panda hat on Duncan, and it fits! And looks super adorable!

Thanks Sherrie!

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

And She Ran

Miranda looking like she belongs in this video:

Miranda is what I call "a runner." No, she's not training for a marathon. But she does this annoying thing where she runs off. I tell her not to go somewhere (the road), she can't get there fast enough. I tell her to stay in the yard...she sprints to the neighbor's. Evan was also a runner. But if I told him to stay out of the road, he did. Although, he would go over to the mailbox, stick his toe in the road, and look at me with the, "So, what are you gonna do about it, lady?" look. Miranda skips the scathing looks, and charges ahead. Duncan? He stays in the yard. Don't get me wrong. He likes to explore, too. But I think he likes giving Miranda the "you're a naughty girl" speech even more. So, I typically follow the "naughty girl" fairly closely while we're outdoors.

Yesterday we went to the backyard to enjoy the beautiful fall weather (and a cool new toy from Grandma and Grandpa.) We'd been out for 20 minutes or so, when Miranda goes and hides behind a tree. She's quietly standing there. Waiting. Like some sort of pink ninja. I looked over to watch Duncan for a few minutes. I looked back. I couldn't see Miranda. I walked over thinking I'd find her a little further down. Nothing. She wasn't anywhere.

Trying not to panic, I started calling her name and traipsing through the heavily wooded yards between our street and the next. I stopped and listened. I thought, "If she's walking through the woods, she'll be making some sort of sound." Nothing. That's what really scared me. I ran over to the creek...just to be sure she wasn't there. Then I decided I needed help. (Duncan was calmly playing in our yard this whole time!) I found a neighbor outside who ran back with me. I called Miranda's name some more, and then decided to call the police. Then I called Justin. We were all trying to keep it together, but truly terrified.

I heard a woman's voice on the street behind us, but I wasn't sure she was talking to me. I went back to our yard to keep an eye out for the police officers, and that's when we started hearing more yelling from the other street. She was over there! She had crossed through a couple of yards, gone up the street, and sat down on a curb. Always the ninja. Quiet. Sneaky. And, as Justin says, you never hear about the pink ninjas, because they're that good. After many tears, and my body wanting to hyperventilate, I was reunited with my little girl. She hadn't been crying. She wasn't scared. I think she was proud of her little adventure. I wonder what our next adventure will be?