Mike, Music and Michaela

After nearly six years in our current house… we’re moving!

As Michaela gets older, we have increasingly felt like we should move to a more neighborhood-y place, instead of our still-gentrifying area.  We love our house and have worked for years to make it nice.  Hell, when we moved in, the place was barely habitable!  But we also love the idea of Michaela being able to walk to her friends’ houses, and of living somewhere with more diversity and better schools.  So back in November/December, we started looking in earnest.  We had a couple of close calls, but didn’t buy anything.  About a month ago, though, we saw a string of really good options and decided to take the plunge.  A week and a bidding war later, we were under contract, and we officially closed and got our keys yesterday.

I’m looking forward to having a bigger home, and one that’s .3 miles from an awesome park and .3 miles in the other direction from one of the top elementary schools in the county.  But I’m also sad about moving out of the house where we got engaged, where we came home for the first time as a married couple, where we brought Michaela home when she was born.  I’m dreading the process of taking down the animals that decorate Michaela’s room, and of painting over the landscape we so lovingly applied.  Not to mention the fact that packing and moving totally suck!

The other thing that is totally weird about the whole moving thing is that I’ve basically spent the majority of my life living within a mile or two of our current house, and it’s going to be strange to live somewhere else.  Our mailman is the same mailman that delivered to my parents’ house when I was in high school.  Last weekend, I was at the little Mexican bakery near our house and a random guy said, “Is your name Music?”  When I said yes, he told me we’d gone to elementary school together and name checked a bunch of people from back in the day.  I’m guessing that’s not going to happen in our new neighborhood!

But change is good, and I’m looking forward to setting up our home and to meeting new neighbors and getting integrated into the social fabric of our new area.

Today, in the car

Michaela: Some people are rude, mom.  You know why?

Me: Why, Michaela?

Michaela: Because they smoke.  Smoking fires me up.

Me: It does what to you?

Michaela: IT FIRES ME UP!

Also in the car, out of nowhere and completely unrelated to anything else we were talking about

Michaela: Mom, do you know who thinks farts are funny?  Grandpa Bruce!

I really hate checking voicemail.  Don’t ask me why, but I do.  So when I came into work this morning, a mere 13 hours after I left, and saw my voicemail light flashing, I was not pleased.  When I listened to the message, though, it was from someone I work with who was calling to say how glad she is that I am on the team.

I gotta say… if I’m going to have to listen to a message, that’s a nice one to hear.

Tonight, while playing in her room:

“AHHHHHH!  DAD!  DAD!  DAD!  THERE’S A SCARY CREATURE [pronounced "scawy kwe-ture"] IN MY BED!”

Run in there to find out it’s a teeny tiny moth.

While talking about dad’s occupation:

Michaela: “Are you going to go to a shoot?”

Mike: “Yes.”

Michaela: “Why are you going to go to a shoot?  I thought you did video?”

While feeding Rey: “Is this going to make him poop?  Eventually?”

Also, I don’t know that I ever shared some of her greatest hits from a few (6?) months ago.

“I am going to go pee.  I need privacy!”

“My bum hurts.  I need to go to a bum dentist!”

“Here’s the deal, dad.  I don’t want to take a nap!”

“Why?”  (All the time.  This is only cute sometimes.)

Michaela and I were at the dog park tonight.  Rey was running and playing with another dog, and Michaela was busy chattering away  as usual.  Rey came over and sat down between my legs, which is what he does when he wants a break from the other dogs.  Michaela asked me why he did that and I said, “he’s telling them he wants to be alone for a bit.”  In response, Michaela asked, “Is he saying, ‘I’m losing my patience with you?’”

I can’t imagine where she would have heard that expression…

Mike: Michaela, do you want to go to the zoo tomorrow?

Michaela: Yes, please!

Mike: Who do you want to go with?

Michaela: Kami!

Mike: Who’s your second choice?

Michaela: Mommy!

Mike: Okay… Who’s your third choice?

Michaela: Kami!

Mike: What about your fourth choice?

Michaela: Daddy!

Kami: At least you made the list!

Michaela does something hilarious each and every day.  And I’m not just saying that because I’m her mom.

Today we were making up our own version of “Brown Bear, Brown Bear, what do you see?”  Michaela would pick something, I’d ask it what it sees, and Michaela would answer.  Repeat.  Michaela called out “American Flag,” so I asked, “American Flag, American Flag, what do you see?”  And my child, in all her wisdom, giggled and said, “Nothing!  American flags don’t have eyes!!!!”  Touché, Michaela.

She’s also easy on the eyes, as these pictures show.

Someday this child will go to college… and she’ll be ready, having practiced “double fisting” from the time she was a toddler.

We’ve started a new tradition of going to the Yogurt Mill in La Mesa as a special treat.  Michaela loves it, especially because they have pink and purple spoons.  The last time we went, they had yellow and green spoons out, but the woman working there was nice enough to open a package of pink and purples ones and to give Michaela a couple extra to take home.  Great yogurt and sweet employees?  Score!

Michaela and her friend Finn, at a St. Patty’s Day party.  They’re so cute!

I spent some time tonight thinking about the funny way life works out.  About a year ago, I was thrown a pretty hard curveball.  Fortunately, though great friends and a good support network, I was able to overcome the difficult circumstances and move on to something much better, and now I’m very happy.  I’d be lying, though, if I didn’t say I still have down moments.  I’ve spent the last year turning the pieces over in my head, looking at all the decision points, feeling (depending on the day or the hour or the minute) angry, sad, happy, and relieved.  Thankfully, I’m happy and relieved much more than I am angry and sad, though I still have flashes of those, too.

So is that a case of “everything happens for a reason,” the very cliched expression well-meaning people trot out after something bad happens?  Or is it something else?  My personal philosophy is that things happen and you make the best of the situation.  So it’s not that something is always the best, just that it’s always incumbent upon me to make the best of it.  Maybe that means learning a lesson of something you’d do differently.  Maybe it means doing everything exactly the same.  Or maybe it means something else entirely, something I will just have to figure out as I go along.

Michaela is an introvert.  She can be shy and is pretty content to hang back and watch.  Once she gets to know you and gets comfortable, she is a babbling chatterbox, but it takes a long time.  (Of course it’s different with us, her parents, and with her grandparents who she sees all the time.)  So I’m always curious to hear about how she interacts with others when I’m not around.  At daycare, when I pick her up, Michaela is usually playing by herself, and if she isn’t, the minute she sees me, she runs over to me, so I don’t get to observe her playing with her friends.

This weekend, we watched a friend’s kid and got the distinct pleasure of listening to Michaela carry on a running conversation with him.  Finn is about a year older than Michaela and just the sweetest boy you will ever meet.  They are too, too cute together:

Michaela: Curious George took a mud bath when it was hot.  I want to take a mud bath.  Finley, do you have a bathtub?

Finn: Yes, Michaela Bear, I do.

Michaela: Do you have bath toys?

Finn: Yes, I have all sorts of bath toys.  We can take a bath together and play with my toys!

Michaela: We can have a bath party!

*swoon*

I am a reader.  I have always loved to read.  I have always read voraciously.  While I have never hoped Michaela would be an exact carbon copy of me, I have always hoped she would love to read, too, just like my mom does and like I do.  (I also hoped she’d be left-handed, like me and my mom, but it looks like that isn’t going to pan out.  And anyway, that’s a story for another day.)

We haven’t worked much with Michaela on letters until recently, so her literacy was mostly limited to us reading/her looking at books, us telling her the letters certain things start with, and singing the ABC song.  Over the last couple of weeks, though, we have been more focused and dedicated in showing her letters and working with her to help her connect the name of the letter with the way it looks.  She only has so much patience, so we don’t ever spend a long time doing it.  Plus, I don’t want to be a Tiger Mom…

Last night, we were sitting on the couch, wrapped up in the cool Elmo-print blanket Nana Laura made for Michaela, reading some books.  Well, I was reading her some books.  All of a sudden, she looked at the blanket and pointed at the word “ELMO,” and then sounded out the letters- “E-L-M-O.  Look, Mom, Elmo!”  My heart nearly burst out of my chest with pride!  She read the word to me!  It’s the first word I’ve ever heard her read; the first of many, I hope.  My little reader!