Not Quite Déjà Vu

The thing about storing photographs online is that it is crazy simple to answer the question, "I wonder what we were doing on this date last year?"

Last year on this day, Alexis and I stopped at my favorite abandoned barn for some photographs. It was the first time I shot in full manual mode for any extended amount of time. It was also one of those rare days when Alexis was game for any ideas that I threw her way.

And, thus, there are a ton of amazing photos dated 9/9. Like this one.

I thought it would be fun to go back there again today and duplicate (and improve upon--I made some pretty blatant mistakes when I was shooting) the photos from last year. There was a bit of bribery involved because Alexis wasn't feeling as cooperative this year as she was last.

OK, so, there was a LOT of bribery involved. I hate that kids figure out to raise their price for cooperation as they get bigger.

The resistance resumed once we got to the barn because OMG. THERE ARE BUGS OUTSIDE. Any time one flew within a mile of Alexis, she flipped her lid. No matter, though, because I still managed to get a shot or two.

It's not quite a recreation of the one from one year ago (nor is it free of photographer error), but I'll take it.

Don't Piss Off Barbie

It has happened. I have turned into one of those parents. I am now one of those parents who doesn't even notice the crazy that happens in my own house.

I remember when Alexis was about two years old that it was weird how I had this kid who clearly could function just fine on less sleep than me, but there wasn't anyone who had warned me that it might happen. For a while I thought it was just that she was a freak (which she is, to be honest), but no, it turns out that the parents whose kids don't need sleep just don't even notice it after a while. (They're probably too tired to care.) I have absolutely reached the point where I don't even think about it when I go to bed before the kid.

Pretty much every parent finds themselves saying something completely ridiculous to a kid, but doesn't bat an eyelash while doing it. Things like, "Get your hands out of your pants and eat your dinner," just turn into what passes as a normal conversation.

The thing that frequently causes me to wonder what the heck is wrong with me, though, is the toys. THE TOYS. Strewn all throughout our house are various toys that are left in some of the weirdest positions and manners. I don't even pause when I find a naked Barbie doll anymore because, well, they're ALL naked around here. I'd worry about that fact, but I long ago realized that it's just normal life with a 5-year old girl.

This, however, actually made me stop and wonder.

I asked Alexis for an explanation as to why two male dolls were naked and underneath a car and she said, "Barbie is mad at them."

Well, then. I probably should have seen that answer coming.

Black Eyes R Us

I have a dream.

It's a big dream.

A VERY big dream.

I dream that one day Alexis will wake up and she won't be accident prone anymore.

I know, it's probably the most unattainable dream of all time.

For as long as the kid has been alive, she has had an amazing ability to find herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. The floor has been known to reach out and grab her. Walls attack her. Tables jump out in front of her. She's a magnet for inanimate objects. In a typical week, she will crash into a wall at full speed at least twice, smash her head on the underside of a table once, and trip while standing perfectly still at least once.

For a while, I wondered if there was something wrong with her. Maybe a spatial thing? A balance thing? Something?

But, no, she just has an amazing ability to sustain injuries. AMAZING.

You guys, Alexis did not make it through a single week of summer camp without getting an Incident Report. Every single week, without fail, she was injured somehow. And only about half of the injuries were self-sustained.

The other half were a matter of just plain being in the wrong place at the wrong time. One time a kid fell off of the monkey bars and landed squarely on top of her, knocking her to the ground. Another time someone accidentally pelted her too hard with a flying ball while playing dodgeball. She was the victim of an incident involving a water balloon, another with an exploding soda water bottle, and once she was knocked over when another kid bent over to grab a rock.

I'm not exaggerating. I wish I were because I started to really feel bad for the camp staff who had to write up all of the incident reports. They felt awful about it every time she got hurt, but it's just her way.

She's not immune to injury when she's around me either. One evening we needed to make a quick stop at the grocery store. As we walked down the main aisle at the front of the store, I suddenly found myself being ran over by a wheelchair. Literally. As in, the woman pushing the wheelchair was all ZOOMY ZOOMY ZOOOOM! and ran over my foot with both of the wheels on one side of the wheelchair. My first reaction was to hiss at the lady, but my second reaction was to reach out to Alexis and hold her back so she didn't get ran over as well.

You know what? It's best if when you go to grab your kid you don't have your car keys in your hand. I completely bashed her face with my keys, probably injuring her more than the wheelchair would have. WHOOPS.

Most people want to put their kids in bubbles to protect them from the world. I want to put Alexis in a bubble to protect her from herself.