A Religious Experience

Every story about Mila's life is going to start with, "She was at her sister's ..." It will go on to mention a cheer practice or dance recital or something. The point is, Mila spends a very significant portion of her life getting drug around to wherever her sister wants or needs to be.

The life of a youngest sibling is not glamorous.

Because I sometimes feel bad that Mila has to wait around patiently while Alexis does super fun things, sometimes I try to make it up to her. Sort of.

That's my excuse for why I handed a one year-old a push-up while her sister played mini golf with a friend.

Other possibly true excuses include:

• Mila still says "NOMNOMNOM" when you give her something delicious. I wanted to hear it.


• It was pretty hot outside. Cooling the kid off was a good idea.


• All of my super secret hidden car snacks were apparently discovered. Ice cream was the only food choice available at the time.

Take your pick of excuses. Any one of them might be the truthful one.

Regardless of the reason, I gave Mila a push-up. The thing about giving Mila that push-up is that I wasn't sure what she would think about it.

Uh, you guys, it was a religious experience for the little imp.

She was as focused as she has ever been in her life.

She clutched that push-up as if her life depended on it. When I tried to grab it so I could push more ice cream up, Mila acted as if I was ripping off her toenails using a crocodile and some bait.

She really super liked it.

It was unfortunate, really, because if I were to truly reveal why I bought the baby a push-up, it might have to do with the fact that I have never in my life tried one and thought maybe that day was my chance.

I didn't get a single bite.

We Shall Call Him George

Mila is not going to be the rule follower that her big sister is, so she had to find some other way to compete for Favorite Daughter. She decided to go for being a baby as long as possible.

It's a good strategy.

Between her refusal to walk, the change in car seat standards that leaves her rear-facing, her blatant AWWWW HELL NO when it comes to weaning, and a few of her mannerisms, she's been managing to stretch out that baby phase just a little bit further than her sister did. It's glorious, really.

But it's coming to an end. Any second now, Mila is going to wake up and be a full-blown toddler.

The beginning of the end can be traced to a specific date and time. Friday at about 8:00 pm, Little Miss Mila forgot that she's not willing to walk.

It started innocently enough. We were at a public pool. Alexis was swimming with friends while Mila and I visited with their parents. Off in the far corner, I spotted an out-of-place visitor. A little bunny stood at the grassy edge, peering through the fence that had him trapped in a box with dozens of kids.

You would think that a bunny would have the smarts to realize that being near a pool filled with screaming kids is a Very Bad Idea, but apparently that bunny forgot his smarts at home. He began far from all of the people, but then suddenly came running directly towards us. He veered no more than two feet before crashing into our little party, which was hysterical for those of us who saw him coming. Those who had their back turned only to hear, "Hey, heads up," when he suddenly came running over might have seen it differently.

Regardless, as I nearly fell over laughing, the bunny settled in about ten feet from us. He was surrounded by beach towels and humans and all sorts of things that should have been scary, but he certainly didn't care. He just sat there, cleaning his feet and enjoying the symphony of screams and shrieks that came from the pool.

Mila locked eyes on him.

And then she took off.

At first she tried crawling towards him, but I kept scooping her up and dragging her backwards. When she finally figured out that her little crawling plan wasn't working out, she stood up and began walking towards the bunny.

I let her.

She drunk-old-man walked her way a good twenty feet before I stopped her. She stood just inches from the bunny, close enough for me to get nervous that he might seriously turn around and attack. I mean, he should have been the one that was terrified in the situation, but he didn't seem to understand that. He happily focused on cleaning his paws even as the shrieking near-toddler behind him tried to figure out how to pet him, poke his eyes out, and make him be her best friend forever. Her happy squeals implied that she was about to gut him, stuff him, and keep him forever.

I drug Mila away. We returned to our posts far away and I went back to visiting with people I like. Mila went back to focusing on the bunny.

She took off again.

We repeated the cycle countless time. Never once did the bunny think to run for cover. Never once did Mila remember that she doesn't do the walking thing.

And I just stood there watching as the last shreds of baby started to fall away.

Zoodle Spaghetti

One thing got in the way of another, and the next thing you know, it was late June before I planted my vegetable seeds this year. Better late than never, right?

It's really no big deal because I will soon have zucchini and beans and carrots and such. For now, my neighbors are throwing zucchini around like confetti because ZOMG EVERYONE GREW ZUCCHINI THIS YEAR.  I mean, I have gone through at least 10 or 15 happy little squash even without picking a single one out of my own garden.

That means there has been lots of baking, but also lots of zoodles have started to happen. I know I'm late to the zoodle party, but go back to that first paragraph and repeat the last sentence, mmkay? It still stands.

As a thank you to the neighbors who have been giving me zucchini for the past few weeks, I've been ordering the little vegetable spiral thingamabobs left and right and handing them out. So basically my entire neighborhood is late to the zoodle party, but we're all here now.

One of those neighbors asked me to post a super easy recipe using the zucchini noodle things, so here goes. (Yes, my neighbors read my blog. As in, a loooooot of my neighbors. They're all very lovely people.)

Zoodle Spaghetti (serves 4)

4 zucchini (smallish ones -- about 1 inch across)
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1 clove minced garlic
1/2 teaspoon dried basil
Your favorite spaghetti sauce
1 dozen meatballs (I used faux meatballs since we're a bunch of annoying vegetarians)
Shredded parmesan or mozzarella cheese to taste

1. Spiral up that zucchini. It takes a whopping five minutes to whip through 4 little zucchinis. (If you haven't one it before, it's just like sharpening a pencil. Just put the end in and spin.)

2. In a large non-stick skillet, heat the oil. Add the zucchini, salt, black pepper, garlic, and basil. Cook over medium heat for 5 minutes or until the zucchini starts to turn a little bit clear. Use tongs to flip it occasionally as it cooks.

3. Meanwhile, heat your sauce and meatballs.

4. Drain as much of the extra liquid from the zucchini as possible.

5. Toss everything in a bowl together.

6. Be amazed as your one year-old manages to continuously slurp a zucchini noodle that's at least three feet long.