"Zoie Day" at The Magic Kingdom

Yesterday, on her fourth birthday, we surprised Zoie with her first trip to Disney World.

Lance and I had not been to the Magic Kingdom since we were kids. It was crazy to ride The Haunted Mansion, Thunder Mountain Railroad and Pirates of the Caribbean again as adults. Zoie was very patient with us and loved being able to go on "Big Kid" rides.

The highlight of the day for her was meeting the princesses and souvenir shopping.

Because it was her birthday, they gave her a pin to wear that said, "Happy Birthday Zoie". Just about every employee in the park stopped her to tell her Happy Birthday and give her stickers and sing and dance for her. She loved the attention. I think she honestly believed that the Main Street parade was in her honor.

It was a dream come true for her. There were many people who helped us out to make the trip possible. Thank you so much. It was a day that Zoie will not let us forget anytime soon!

For more pictures: http://www.flickr.com/photos/34863684@N03/show/

January 28, 2005

Four years ago, I looked like this:Scary, I know. I don't have "cute" pregnancies. They say that when you are pregnant with a girl she "steals your beauty". My daughter has been gorgeous since the day she was born, so it makes sense that I was so ugly during that pregnancy.

Zoie was due on January 28th. Around the 20th, I decided that I was going to have her early-- mostly for selfish reasons. I was working a job that I hated and I was anxious to not have to go back. But if you had asked me back then why I was so eager, I would have told you that I was dying to meet my sweet little daughter.

In my attempts to force Zoie into the world, I did the following:

• Drank 2 entire bottles of Castor oil (disgusting-- but came the closest to working)
• Ran a mile as fast as I could and followed that with jumping jacks
  
• Moved heavy equipment
• Drank some sort of herbal tea that is supposed to induce labor
• Consumed MOUNDS of black licorice

Results: Nothing. Zero. Zip. I honestly knew from that point on that Zoie would be stubborn and that she and I would butt heads for all eternity.

Four years ago-- on Friday, January 28th I was on my way home from the job I hated when I made a left turn at an intersection on a yellow/ red light. The truck coming the opposite way also took the yellow/red light. It had been raining and the roads were slick. As I saw the speeding truck racing toward the side of my car, I slammed on the gas but my tires couldn't find traction and I spun out. CRASH!! The truck completely destroyed the passenger side of my car.

I was fine and so was the 17 year-old driver of the truck (but you should have seen his face when I got out of my car 9 months pregnant!) I refused an escort from the fire department and Lance took me to the hospital.

Long story short-- after an induction and ten hours of labor, Zoie still refused to be born. The doctors took matters into our own hands and performed a cesarean. You should have heard the screaming that came from Little Zoie when she was born. She did not like being forced to do something she didn't want to do. Some things never change....
Moral of the story: If you are ready to deliver a baby and nothing seems to work, try turning left in front of a speeding truck.

Tiny Hands

When you saw the title of this post, you may have thought I was going to expound upon the impact that my children's little hands have had in my life, or perhaps recite a bittersweet poem with the title of "Tiny Hands". Actually, I was just pondering the following question:

Have you seen the Burger King commercial in which a guy is embarrassed of his tiny hands? He can't hold a football or a Whopper due to his condition.


It cracks me up each time I see it. (I am a commercial nerd. I love them!)

I took this picture a few days ago and noticed that my hand looks like a "tiny hand". It is a little creepy.

Winston

Winston is our resident frog. He lives in our front porch and checks on our family nightly by sitting on the glass. It is a frog's version of "hanging out".

Winston has been dwelling with us for about 6 months now. He disappears when the weather gets too cold (one more reason we HATE the cold!) . Zoie says he just likes to visit his other friends on cold nights. I think she's right.

He is very well- mannered. Unlike other overeager frogs in the area, he never jumps inside when we open the door. The kids love him. Even Tobin loves to point and shout, "Winston" each night.

He is easily the most low- maintenance "pet" we have ever had. The pictures were taken on New Year's Eve when Winston was celebrating with us.

Disappointed

Winter is something that Florida really does well. That is why I am so disappointed in the next few days. Really dropped the ball there, so-called "Sunshine State".

Just ridiculous.

The Secret Way

We went "real" camping (Zoie's words) a couple of weeks ago. The kids had fun exploring with flashlights and making hot dogs while Lance fought with the fire all night (damp logs).

While I took the kids exploring, I noticed that Zoie was singing a cute little song. I tuned in to hear her describing our whole camping experience (roosters crowing, following a cat, using flashlights, going potty-- you know, all the things that are memorable to a 3 year-old). The chorus of the song was about "the secret way". It was a pretty catchy little song.

Here are some highlights:

We followed a cat down "the secret way"

Tobin and George testing their manhood

Man Make Fire

I have to admit, it was pretty handy to have a real bathroom close by for the kids. Florida Camping was a success. As soon as our weather stops being ridiculously cold, we will go again.

What Goes Around Comes Around

I learned the meaning of the word "stubborn" at a very young age. My parents have always used that term to describe me. ALWAYS. I will admit, it is one of my many lovable traits. For example, when I was fifteen, my parents refused to give me a ride to a hockey game, so I decided to walk the 43.8 miles along a major highway to the Thunderdome. Luckily, my parents caught up with me about 5 miles into my hike of defiance.

I cannot count the number of times my parents have told me that when I have children of my own, I will reap what I have sowed through this "lovable" trait of mine.

Mom, Dad-- the day has come. Retribution has arrived in the form of my giant one year old. I have never seen someone so stubborn in my life. This is his "stubborn" face:Tobin and I had a showdown over dinner the other night. He refused to eat it and I tried everything I could think of to "win" the fight. I gave Zoie a giant cookie when she finished her dinner, I tried to make eating look like a "fun party", I also tried time-out, scolding, ignoring, force feeding, etc.

This is what I sat in my kitchen staring at for well over an hour:End Result-- It was a draw. I compromised from "eat all your dinner" to "take one bite!" He compromised by taking the one bite (and by "taking a bite" I mean not spitting it out when I shoved half a ravioli in his mouth).

Lucky for him he's so cute.