Vacation

Alas, my dear little blog. How I have abandoned you lately! Such a slacker am I.

The truth of the matter is, I was on a sort of vacation. The girls just got back last night from spending four nights with Grammie and Pappie in Kearney. They had a wonderful time. Camille told me all of the way home how she wanted to go back, in fact.

After getting over the initial guilt of enjoying my "time off" too much, I managed to have a great sabattical from child-rearing.

Here are the highlights:

10) Sleep. I love it. A lot. I forgot how much I love it. Sleeping in on the weekend is good-o! Going back to sleep after you wake-up just because is just super. I think I forgot just how little sleep parents function on because I had two days of sleeping in and now today, I'm remembering what it means to be REALLY tired.

9) My niece Brooke came Friday night after the girls left. Bill and I took her to the Upstream and looked at all of the photos of her recent European Tour. Completely fabulous. Just like old times when Brooke stayed with us a summer when she was in college. What hugs from Brooke can do!

8) Trip to Kansas City with Bill on Saturday. Forgot what it felt like to travel with no kids---what a cinch!

7) Plaza time in KC with movie and dinner.

6) Lazing in Barnes and Noble, leafing through good books.

5) White Chocolate Raspberry cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory.

4) Time to read---for pleasure.

3) Time to scrapbook.

2) Celebrating my dad's birthday yesterday.

1) Picking Camille and Liv up last night and realizing that my life is not nearly as full without them. Restful, but nearly as full. Love you two!

Pictures as Promised

Happy Birthday Dear Daddy!

Yep, yesterday was our own Billy O'Neill's 36th birthday.

For a picutre of Bill with the girls, you'll have to come back later. I am at present physically not located near my dear Nikon. But it's a cute picture. So do come back.

Bill had to work. It was my day off, so I had to work too--with two girls who were full of 'tude' but thankfully had started behaving by the time Daddy came home so we could try to celebrate without sequential time-outs.

We went out to eat. We gift-opened. We sang "The Happy Birthday Song." We miraculously blew out candles without cinging any hair. We ate cake. All the good birthday stuff.

In honor of the big day, here is my top ten list of little-known things to love about Billy Bob:

10. People in his hometown of Sumner used to call him Billy Bob, the shortened, hillbilly version of his given name, William Robert.

9. He has a knack for memorizing phone numbers at the drop of a hat but can't recall if he's seen a movie 24 hours after we leave the theatre.

8. He has the most genuine way of engaging total strangers, something that is awe-inspiring to my introverted self.

7. Several nights per week, he falls alseep watching Sports Center and sleeps all night in the chair....no wonder why two curious questions have popped out of Camille's mouth repeatedly over the past year: "Do you want to watch the football movie?" and "Do you want to turn on the NBA?"

6. He does most of the laundry.

5. When I get stressed, he now automatically asks, "Jen, do you need to go scrapbooking this weekend?" Does this guy get it or what?

4. It is totally awesome to watch him with his family and mine. The baby of the family by nine years, he has outgrown his baby status and has wonderful relationships with all of his siblings. My family adores him.

3. He is extremely devoted to everything he does and everyone he loves. (Aaaawwww).

2. Though he misses his boy more than he lets on, he is a smashing girl daddy. Camille and Liv adore him. He's not afraid to be goofy with them and is the comic relief for our family.

1. He let Liv paint his toenails two nights ago. Only now he can't wear his sandals because he has pink toes and has no idea how to go about getting it off. Hmmm....the power I now hold!

Tune in later for birthday pictures.

Ice Cream Social

So Livvy talks. A lot. Nonstop. About things I didn't even know a two-year-old could think about. Sometimes she talks so long and so much that my little introverted brain needs a solitude break just to recharge--alone in the closet, locked in the bathroom, sitting out in the van by myself---whatever works. I mean this girl can talk.

She talks about doggies and airplanes and birdies. Pooh and potty and purses. Bubbles and movies and books. Today, she was in the bathtub and was making a virutal map. She told me that my house was on one wall of the tub and Aunt Judy's house was on the other wall. She was also exploring the intricacies of the family tree: "Your mommy is Grammie and your daddy is Pappie, right??" You name it, she'll talk about it.

Saturday, she and I snuck away for an ice cream date. How this child ldoes ove undivided attention, and with our crazy life, sometimes it is hard for her to find it. So, on Saturday, I decided to double-indulge her. Together, she and I went for a trip to Gelato Joe's, this oh-too-cute gelato parlor a few miles away. We each got our own dish of divine cookies and cream gelato. As I scooped away at mine, Livvy managed to get a few bites in as she chatted away incessantly; mostly, I watched the gelato melt and dribble down the side of the dish though she was just to busy chatting to notice.

I don't even recall the topic of conversation---just the fact that there was a LOT of it and it was mostly one-sided. After several minutes of chattering, Livvy stopped abruptly, looked at me with a look of concern and said, "Mommy, don't you know how to talk anymore?"

No need, Livvy. No need.

Friendship is just a few countries away...

I committed a cardinal sin of scrapbooking.

I forgot my camera yesterday. Correction, I didn't forget it, I forgot to charge the battery which enables the camera to take pictures. And I would have had some great photos to share today.

Yesterday, Camille and I traveled to Sioux City, IA to visit some friends from Bogota, Columbia---as in near the equator Bogota, Columbia, for those of you who may be geographically challenged such as myself.

We went to Sioux City to visit a family who has become near and dear to us thanks to the wonder of Vonage, that phone company you've been seeing on infomercials that makes international calling just darn slick. Marcelo, Becky and their three children: Yael, Noa and Itai, have worked their way into our hearts since this time last year, when I met Becky at the NAPVI National Convention here in Omaha. The flashing-red-light commonality we share is that Yael and Camille, just a year apart with Yael being the senior, were both born at 25 weeks and consequently developed severe Retionpathy of Prematurity. Their roads to, through, and from the NICU are hauntingly similar. Today, they stand before us as lovey-dovey, charisma-laden preschoolers.

Over the past 12 months, I have come to value Becky's long-distance friendship in a multitude of ways. Indirectly, I have gotten to know her family. So, you can imagine that I was thrilled when, during the course of a conversation one evening, Becky and I realized that Yael and Camille would be in Detroit for eye appointments within one day of each other! Additionally, Becky and the family would be visiting her mother in Sioux City for a few weeks surrounding that time.

In Michigan, we met up with Marcelo and Yael. Yesterday, we saw the whole family. They wouldn't ever admit to it, but spending time with them is infectiously wonderful. They have created their own system for educating Yael in the schools where a system doesn't exist. While they recognize that visual impairment can make things challenging, their mantra has always been to see Yael as Yael....and then work through the challenges.

It shows. Yael is extremely well-adjusted, endearing and bright. If you think hard about it, you notice that she is visually impaired, but only if you think hard. When you are around her, it seems hard to remember that fact as she delights in the day and draws you right in with her. And she is this way because they have always loved her first and foremost.

So thank you, Marcelo and Becky. Lesson learned.

And do I go so far as to say that in this way, visual impairment has been a blessing, as without it, we would never have met you?

Isn't it ironic...don't cha think?

...A little too ironic. As of today, Camille is wearing a CAM-walker boot.

Pobrecita!!


There is a story behind this. From a perspective I only have because of Camille's history.


If you are a "Jen's Little Space" reader, you may recall my musings about Camille's nighttime wanderings (See "The apple doesn't fall far..."). As the parent of a child with a visual impairment, I find myself oddly celebrating these trying nighttime rituals. Continually getting out of bed and finding one's way down two flights of stairs is a sign of independence--independence in terms of gross motor skills, thinking, planning, orientation and mobility---things that are sometimes taken for granted.


Well, these nighttime wanderings have come to bite us in the bud. Ten days ago, Camille, unbeknowst to us, crawled out of bed to wander around yet again. Usually, the hallway light is still on while we are up, but this night, it was off. And Camille came unexpectedly face-to-face with the stairs and tumbled right down about six or seven of them. Thumpety-thump-thump.


For a day, she wouldn't stand. For another couple, she wouldn't walk. Ever since, she has refused to run, and simply just is kind of gimpy looking. So, off to Dr. Scherl in ortho we went today to get it checked out. She did an X-ray, which didn't show anything, but Camille got the CAM boot anyway. Dr. Scherl said that sometimes "toddler fractures" don't show up until they heal. So, for two weeks, we try this and hope for the best--that our girl will want to be running down the sidewalk again in a few weeks.


In the whole scheme of things, this is a drip-drop in the bucket of the story of her life....hopefully. And because she has the story that she does, the perspective is...."what's a little hairline fracture here or there?"

I guess we'll just chalk it up to another piece of "equipment" that she's collected over time along with the bili-glasses, wee-pees, eye patches, orthotics and fake eyes.

I have always been a firm believer that everything is cuter in minature....and this drives the point home. Who would have thought a walking boot could be so darn cute??


And of course, the girl wearing just keeps on trucking.

"My biiirdies"

As a 31-year-old, I am passionate about scrapbooking, a great cup of the highly addictive substance called coffee, and a great read.

As a two-year-old, Livvy is passionate about birds. And she thinks all of them in the world belong to her.

The addiction started when my mom made up a story with her about some robins that were in our backyard and disappeared....to fly to Kearney to see Pappie. Now, they regularly talk about what the robins are doing when they chat on the phone: sleeping, flying, catching a worm.

We are still hanging out in Detroit. Sunday, we went downtown to the Detroit Riverfront and literally looked across the waterfront at Canada. Oh, yeah....and fed the biiirdies.

Liv was in hog heaven. (Where does that phrase come from anyway?) There were mainly geese and seagulls...and lots of them. If Liv would have had it her way, she would have fed them all with fistfulls of Teddy Grahams. However, we got close enough to see just how sharp the beaks of seagulls are, and when they started fighting over the morsels and the geese started hissing (and yes, they really do that and yes, it FREAKED me out), we loaded up the stroller and got the heck out of there.

But today, Liv was more obsessed with birds than ever.

L: "Mom, my biiirdies are sleepin'....and when they come to the hotel, they are gonna get in my bed."

L: "Mom, dare's my biirdies....see them flying up dare??"

L: "Mom, dare's a little robin......hop! hop! hop! See my biiirdie? That biirdie was in Grammie's yard!"

and on and on and on.....

And it is so sweet that in her little mind's eye, she watches after them all.

These are the moments

Real vacation memories are really not about Disney World or flying on airplanes. They are not about sightseeing or buying souvenirs.



They are about standing outside of your hotel at 3:00 a.m. in your skivvies, along with all other 27 guests, as the fire alarms blare, five police cars pull up, and two firetrucks arrive at the scene.



You got it. That's how we spent the wee hours of morning.



Yep, at 3 a.m., we got a VERY rude awakening. Blaring, honking alarms interrupting our blessed, slaved-for slumber (picture two hyper girls in a hotel room with birthday cake in their blood---you get my drift).



Out to the hall we went. Then, outside we went. In our jammies. Hanging with the other guests. Seeing what everyone really wears to bed. Now that's unexpected intimacy.



Anyway, the pieces of the story fit together like this:



Six young kids + 4 cases of beer=noise+many complaints=police. Kids get drift police are near. Two get caught and sit in back of police car. Two others run down stairs and pull fire alarm (this is where we come in) to create diversion= guests outside in pajamas. One other young guy races out amongst the pajama clad-guests yelling "Erica, Erica"=idiot. He obviously just drew attention to the fact that he was with the party. Oh, and add to the idiot factor that all guests have to sign a "no-noise, no-party" policy saying that police will be called if trouble arises. Enough said.



And the exclamation point: I am holding Livvy over my shoulder as she sleeps. She wakes up, barfs down the arm of my pajamas, turns head, barfs down the other arm of my pajamas. Too much cake? I start hysterically laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

When we finally go inside, we wash the jammies out in the sink and hang them over the shower rod. And the girls don't go back to sleep until 6 a.m.

Ahhhh....these are the moments to remember. Top that, Mickey Mouse.

23-hour birthday

Today, my big girl turned 4 years old.

And she got cheated out of one hour of her big day. But then again, what is one hour to her? She got cheated out of three and 1/2 months in utero!

You see, we skipped forward a time-zone as we flew to Detroit, MI for one of her twice-yearly follow-up visits with her retinal specialist, Dr. Trese. So, one hour of her birthday was technically lost in the clouds.

She didn't seem to mind. Here is actually a picture of her in the clouds, sitting in her own seat on the plane (something she has become quite accustomed to), enjoying a bag of Teddy Grahams.

Anyway, here are some highlights of the big day, from Camille's persective:

• In Omaha, went to buy favorite Cinnamon rolls with Daddy for breakfast.


• Launched balloons up to Sam and Hannah.


• Opened presents: 1) From Livvy: Alphabet Annie Doll. She has Braille and Print letters on her tummy and speaks about the letters in phonics. Many favorites all in one. Livvy earns good present in February. 2) From Mommy and Daddy: Leap Frog's My First Computer. Has letters galore! Computers and Letters! Hooray! Mommy and Daddy earn kisses and hugs.


• Fly out of Omaha and land in Flint, Michigan. Loved the plane ride and the soft-baked cookies served as a snack!


• Arrive at hotel and get to go swimming. Swimming all by self in Speedo lifejacket. Extra bonus!


• Get to celebrate in hotel room with birthday cake. Successfully blew out the #4 candles all by self.


• Got to sleep with Daddy.

Life for Camille doesn't get much better than this. And our life doesn't get much better than celebrating all that she is and how far she's come.

Happy birthday, my special girl. And cheers to you, my angels!

Tears, Laughter, Love and Microsoft Word

Today was a doozy. Started out that way. Nearly ended that way.


Started out with 4 1/2 hours of sleep. That was enough in itself.


Work ate me alive in terms of busy-ness and emotions. As many of you know, I coordinate patient care for Nebraska's dedicated HIV clinic at UNMC. I am passionate for my job--a passion which often leads to joy and heartache many times throughout the day. The concentration of my efforts today was on one of our fairly newly diagnosed patients---seven months my elder---who is a wonderfully kind, young man (I refuse to call him middle-aged, as that would put me in that same category). He is seriously ill and may be fighting the fight of his life---for his life. I hope we both live to celebrate our 33rd birthdays in 2009.


Needless to say, I came home with a migraine. Picked Camille up from Camp. Inevitably, she slept on the way home for 45 minutes, which translated into a very unsuccessful attempt at co-napping for mom and aforementioned daughter upon arriving home. Surrendered, albeit with a less severe headache, and headed to K4J to pick up Liv. Refused to attempt meal-making. Picked up less-than-satisfactory yet somehow too expensive supper at Culver's. Dad working all night. Fed girls. Bathed girls. In poor judgement, attempted to multitask by watching girls and listening in on ROP teleconference at same time. Note to self: never do this again; it is dangerous and the girls end up eating too much candy somehow.


In a small miraculous feat, girls end up in bed, but not sleeping. Oh, and Liv was in my bed, not hers. And Camille was in bed, out of bed, in bed, out of bed. Wanted to use the potty, but only because it got her out of bed. Has figured out that the longer she sits on the potty without peeing, the longer she stays out of bed.


Dad arrives home (Hallelujah chorus #1). Mom bursts into tears..exhaustion?? Dad takes over with retucking everyone in bed. Mom crawls into bed with HP Pavilion dv1000 laptop.


And then.....


Knock, knock. Guess who??? Yep, my nightime wanderer. With Daddy. She had come to tell me that she had not only sat on the potty, but actually pee-peed in it (Hallelujah chorus #2).


And then......


She sees my computer. Ah....let the games begin.


Camille loves her letters. In itself, it is amazing that she can even see them to know them as she has a significant visual impairment. But for kicks, we appease and set the font to 90- point Times New Roman and she begins to request her favorite words:




"Do you want to spell mommy? M-O-M-M-Y!!"


"C is for Camille"


"Can we spell Daddy?"


"Want to spell Aunt Sissy?"


"Let's write P.J."


And then she actually dictated to us the spelling of her Aunt Carol's name so we could type it out for her. What???!! She remembered how to spell this?


"A is for Al" (her favorite preschool van-driver).



And all of the time, she giggles and laughs and hugs and asks for more and gets so darn excited, she almost pees her pull-up, which if you are following, is certainly not the goal at present.

So....my thoughts. I am overjoyed at this moment, and I know that my day has ended on a high note. Not because she actaully peed in the potty, though I admit this was a perk. Not because she sees her letters, because with this girl reading 72 or 90 point type, Braille is bound to be her main medium.

Nope. My joy has two big roots:

1) This little girl loves the written word in it's various forms. She doesn't go a day without asking for her favorite books several times. She knows all of her letters in print and can spell some simple words to boot. She recognizes many names---of people, of days of the week---by sight---which I think is pretty spectacular for any child, much more for a child who has overcome so much and has yet to turn four. She calls to me from her bed, asking, "Mommy??? You wanna go read July in Braille?" (referring to the print/braille wall calendar outside of her room). And she is laughing, giggling and asking for more, more, more. I feel like this is one thing we are actaully doing right. Ever since Camille was diagnosed with ROP, I vowed that I would do everything I could to give this girl the foundation to love literacy---in whatever form her little eyes or fingers would allow. And she is obsessed with it. At the age of four-minus-a few-days. She loves the foundation skills she will need to read in both print and braille---WHEEEE---which means the wheels are turning---which is a dream-come-true for my preemie-mom heart.



2) More importantly, this girl loves and feels love and loves to love and feel loved. Look at these pictures with her daddy. This joy in loving is a dream-come-true for my preemie-mom heart.


So, I guess you can sign me up for another day after all.

Doo-rags, hand sanitizer and Cindabrella

Today, Camille spent the majority of the day at her beloved Camp Monroe. That left Livvy entitled to 100% undivided attention all day long. Her'e's a taste of what I observed:

This gal never ceases to make me laugh. And laugh. And laugh. Yesterday, she came home from daycare sporting the doo-rag seen at left. Miss Debbie had made it just for her and her crazy mop of bobby curls. She's been outfitting Liv with various forms of hairstyling fashion pieces over the last couple of weeks. Liv just eats it up....and of course had to put the doo-rag on again today.

Now for the hand sanitizer. This girl loves Purell. So much so that she probably gets tipsy off of the fumes. I'm not kidding; we really have to shut her off, at which point she begs for "one more squirt?" She also loves to pretend to clean, an attribute obviously handed down from Grammie and NOT from Mommy. None-the-less, as much as this chick-e-poo loves hand sanitizer and cleaning, you would think our house would be spotless. Somehow, however, she manages to take out twice as many things as she cleans up, which explains the state of our house. That and the fact that I am usually chasing around after her which leaves little time or energy for cleaning when the day is done.

So, add the doo-rag and the hand sanitizer/cleaning fettish together, and what do you get? Liv's pronunciation of the infamous princess: "Cindabrella." Take a look at this picture and tell me if you think she might fit right into the fairytale.

Thoughts on bath time

Bath time at the O'Neill house. Some love it. Some hate it. Some love it and hate it in the same night.

Camille loves it.

Liv loves to hate it and then loves it so much she hates it when it's over. This girl keeps us on our toes. And my ability to out-wit her is shrinking exponentially every day.

Liv used to love bath time endlessly. She would love to get in and stay in and hate to get out. Her feelings were consistently consistent---love, love, love it all of the time. Now, every time a bath is even mentioned, her favorite line is, "No, mama, I no take baths anymore." And she drives the point home. Several times. And sometimes it takes bribery just to get her de-stinkified.

Tonight the bribery, or as I like to call it, creative thinking, happened to be in the form of bubbles. Not a bubblebath, mind you, but the prospect of actually being able to blow bubbles while inside the house in the tub. She had wanted to blow bubbles outside all night, but the sky was aghast and it was so humid that I doubt one would be able to lauch a bubble into the air....so.....wha-la! A gateway to bathtime without a struggle. An offer she couldn't refuse: the chance to blow bubbles inside.

It went off without a hitch. She was thrilled with the idea and greedily ran off to the tub, bubbles in hand. No matter that moments into scrub-a-dub-dubbing, she happily dumped the entire bottle of bubbles into her bathwater. Now, she had the perfect container to fill with water and dump, dump, dump....on the floor, on the edge of the tub, on the towels.... Okay, so there were a few hitches.

But just look at this picture. Pure delight. Note the headband around the neck that just had to be bathed in. This girl oozes style.

The exclamation point to the entire experience was when I walked in to check on her and she looked at me, flashed a grin and said, "Mama, I'm berry glad you're eere!"

Me, too, Liv. Me, too.

Fourth of July Weekend

As many of you may know, the Fourth of July is a HUGE thing in the O'Neill household. Not so much when I was an Allison--we lit a few sparklers, often had company, watched fireworks on the lawn and made great memories. But for the last ten years, I have celebrated Independence Day in the way that the Sumner O'Neills could only celebrate, as the 4th is the 2nd best holiday after Christmas.

For the last four days, we were back in central Nebraska, whooping it up. So, needless to say, I could write several blog entries on this one topic, but, the fact of the matter is, I just plain don't have the time and you likely don't have the ambition to read that much about the 4th. So, I'll summarize the highlights in a top ten list...an in-no-particular-order top ten list:

10) Chiggers, chiggers, and more chiggers. This is actually less of a highlight and more of a lowlight. But, memorable none-the-less. Both Bill and I fell victim to these mite-y beasts, likely while festivating in the grass with the girls during the Sumner 4th of July parade. What's more, I'm slightly embarrassed to admit, this is the second consecutive year I've had a bad case of them from the 4th of July. And they itch and itch and itch and itch....so much so that I couldn't sleep last night and had to watch the Food Network Challenge to fall asleep---an episode where competitors made cakes that resembled Disney Villans. Aikes.

9) Nieces, nieces, nieces. I love my nieces....all inherited via marriage. All of them are old enough to be my sisters; the closest is five years younger, the youngest is seven years younger. Bridgette and Nicole were back from Pennsylvania, Brooke from St. Louis. Though my children are their cousins, their children will be closer in age to my children than they are! Think about that for a minute.

8) Nephews, nephews, nephews. I love my nephews....all inherited via marriage. T.J, David, Joe, Sean, (college, college, college, and college, respectively) Andrew (12), Patrick (7). None too cool to hug their Auntie Jen. Or play with their little girl cousins.

7) Nephew-in-law: Dave. This is Nicole's husband. Since they live in PA, we haven't had much time to get to know him, but he got his fill of the O'Neills on the 4th. They stayed in Omaha on the 2nd, and I got to ride to Kearney with him and Nicole on the 3rd. He is just one awesome guy. He never tired of playing with the girls and they LOVED him. It didn't get much better than watching him help Livvy put Barbie shoes on each one of her toes.

6) Speaking of the car trip to Kearney, I loved getting to ride with Nicole. Three hours with no interruptions to just talk, talk, talk.

5) Time with the Allison family. Because of crowded living conditions in Sumner due to a high volume of company, we "commuted" back and forth between Kearney and Sumner. Time at my Mom and Dad's house was wonderful. They even commuted with us on the 4th. The girls do love their Grammie and Pappie.

4) The Parade. Though this was the event that led to the run-in with the aforementioned chiggers, it is classic. For those of you who've never seen a small-town parade, put it on your Bucket List. And I don't mean the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade....I mean a small hometown style parade. Complete with cowpersons on horses, shriners on their little go-buggies, old cars, tractors, homemade floats, and lots of candy thrown to the spectators. Livvy cashed in big-time, and she knows how to bat those eyelashes when she wants access to her loot bag.

3) Another Patrick-ism. Background: After the 4th of July Parade, there are footraces and egg-throwing contests on the Sumner Football field. My mom asked Patrick if he was going to compete in the footraces. Pat (seven years old) said, "It depends on how good the other kids are. Last year it didn't go so well." (Judy, don't you dare tell him I wrote this.)

2) Another Patrick-ism. We celebrated Camille's 4th birthday with family on the 5th as that was when everyone could be together. Patrick asked me if he could be the one to hand me the gifts to hand to Camille. I asked him if he would just be the one to hand the birthday gifts to Camille directly. He was overjoyed. I wish you could have seen the pleasure he got from giving Camille a ladybug nightlight for her room---ladybugs are, afterall, Camille's personal mascot--and Pat knows that. What a heart!

1) I was trying to help Camille get her candles blown out after the Happy Birthday song. Just as we were about to get there and I was coaching her, the audience silent in anticipation, Camille got close enough to the cake for the first time that day to see that it was none other than a picture of "Sam I Am" from her beloved book, "Green Eggs and Ham" and shouted with glee, "HAM!!!" So much for blowing out the candles.

Another year of memories. Off to bed I go, with the help of some benadryl and the Food Network again.

My toothbrush is not sacred

Today, I found it. A blue Colgate that went MIA a few months ago. I pulled back the basket in the bottom of our linen closet that houses my foofy girl lotions, and there it was, hanging out with the dustbunnies and a frazzled cottonball.

The thing is, this is not my first toothbrush that has gone missing. There have been pink ones, green ones, and orange ones. Crests, Oral-B's and Reaches. I used to relish in the simple joy of keeping my little toothbrush neatly on the counter or stowed in my bathroom drawer....alas, no more. Now it must hide in the rafters of the aforementioned linen closet.

Yep, Liv has an affinity for toothbrushes. Not her own, mind you. Not even Camille's. Not Daddy's. Nope. Just mine. If I leave my toothbrush unchaperoned even for a moment, it finds it's way instantaneously to her little mouth and later left near the floorboards, in her dresser drawers, or under one of her babies in the basement.

I could complain...and I have....but I must stop and love this time. For there will be a day in the not-so-distant future when, on a trip, she will have forgotten her toothbrush and in an attempt to save her from hygenical turmoil, I'll offer to let her borrow mine...to which she'll reply, "Mom, that is like so completely gross."

So for now, I'll just enjoy the fact that she loves the intimacy of sharing my toothbrush.