Mormons are supposed to do anything for food?

One of the wonderful perks of having my parents here is they can catch me up on all the random YouTube videos they've seen. I just don't have time to peruse the web like that! Maybe someday when I retire...

This one just put me under.

Genius

I don't know how she did it, I really don't.

Liesel likes to go up on tiptoe and pull things down from the dining and kitchen tables. For a while we just put important items in the middle of the table, far out of reach. That didn't last long though because if she somehow manages to see something she really wants, she's not above climbing on a chair and precariously balancing herself to reach what she wants. More than once we've found her ON TOP of the table! She's a curious girl, for sure.

After a long and completely exhausting day yesterday, I noticed Liesel had gotten a hold of the Benadryl bottle from the kitchen table. I heard the click-click-click of the child-proof cap as she spun the lid around. Knowing it was firmly closed, I went back to what I was doing and glanced over a few minutes later. That's when I noticed the bottle was mostly empty. And she had something small and white in her tiny fist. And there was a puddle at her feet. And there was a strong medicine-y smell coming from the hall.

My 19-month old daughter managed to open a child proof bottle of Benadryl and pour all but about 10% of it on the hallway carpet, her Sunday quiet book and of course, herself. There are full-grown adults who can't even get those open! And it's not a fluke either where you push down and turn just once and voila it's open! You have to do that numerous times to get it open. She has tiny hands! She would have had to do it A LOT to get it open!!! To add insult to injury, it was the brand-new bottle of Benadryl I'd purchased that morning after a visit to the pediatrician about her ear.

Perhaps it was the way I moved my pregnant body with lightning speed to the scene of the crime that tipped her off she'd done something wrong. Suddenly she looked at the mess with an expression that said, "Oh my, how did THAT get there?" Of course the first thing she wanted was for me to hold her and I was still wearing my pricey work-appropriate maternity clothes. Oddly enough my first thought was, "Can you get high from huffing Benadryl?"

After confiscating the medicine, scrubbing the carpet to the best of my ability, bathing the culprit and salvaging the quiet book I made a few phone calls. Liesel happily played in the corner as if nothing had happened. My parents just laughed. A lot actually. I demanded to know if I had done anything like that as a kid. Of course I didn't... I didn't get in much trouble as a kid so this wasn't the universe's payback to me. I called my sister who nannied for Liesel this summer and demanded to know if SHE'D taught her how to handle a child-proof cap. She dryly responded, "Yeah, you're not going to peg this one on me." I called another sister who apologized profusely as if she had done it herself and told me, "I wish I could tell you it gets better but that would just be a lie." Then I called Brent's mother to relay my sad tale. I told her I'd confirmed with my parents this character trait wasn't coming from MY genes so I wanted an explanation for what was clearly a Wuehler issue. She quickly responded, "Brent couldn't open those things either!"

Brent had to work late and when he finally made it home he not only took charge of Liesel but he made me dinner and completely cleaned the kitchen. I'd only briefly been able to tell him what happened so I told him the whole story once we had some quiet time. He was a bit chagrined to find his mother, who usually sings paeans to his brilliance and intelligence, threw him under the bus so quickly. Liesel blissfully slept the night away while we discussed new tactics to cope with her new-found mischievousness.

I don't know how she did it. I really don't.

Aftermath

You can tell corn is ripe if it bursts and explodes when you put your nail in a kernel. You can tell you need an oil change based on the mileage and/or date from the last one. And you can tell a toddler has had a pretty rough night when she's sniffling like this in her sleep (enjoy our sound machine set to "ocean" in the background):

Liesel woke up at 4AM hysterically crying and tugging on her left ear. I had lots of ear infections as a kid and Brent tells me when he was young he was the poster child for them. Brent, Liesel and I have blue eyes which I guess is somehow related to the shape of your Eustachian tube and makes you more susceptible to them. So in the early morning hours we found ourselves sympathetically trying to remedy this pain while our little girl cried streams of tears and looked at us pleading for relief.

We immediately gave her a dose of Motrin and called the Dr to determine if we should head over Children's Hospital. Because it was just the ear, (no diarrhea or vomiting), he advised us to put her in a steamy shower for 5-10 minutes to open everything up. She was definitely better, but wide awake and still a little upset. It took her a while to go back to sleep but finally around 6:30 AM she did, sniffling away the vestiges of her troubled night.

Brent has left for work and so I'm here at home waiting for her to wake up so we can start our day. For now, I think I'll just let her sleep.

Everybody Sleeps

There's a reason we rarely let Liesel sleep with us anymore! I always get a foot in my face while Brent gets to breathe her hair. If she's even remotely awake she feels around for our faces and more than once I've been startled awake by a tiny finger up my nose.

She's a cuddler though and doesn't always sleep well alone. One day I decided to try putting my body pillow in her crib and voila! Everyone's getting an appropriate level of REM once again.

Hopefully she'll forgive me for that last droopy diaper shot someday.

Be Prepared

Finding a decent winter coat for Liesel has become my latest crusade... especially when we found out we were having another girl. Knowing the coat would someday be reused by another female meant I could justify some girly colors. Brent didn't see an immediate need like I did because Liesel, like Brent, runs warm. He was pretty sure she could tough it out and perhaps we could put it off until Christmas. I don't care if she's dripping sweat when it's -30 F, she's going to have a good coat and NOW! There's been enough cool nights I wanted it taken care of sooner rather than later. I guess it's a mother thing.

Turns out coats, REAL winter coats anyway, are really hard to find for Liesel's age group. There are fancy fur ones that are more for show than warmth, and some cutesy snowsuits but not really much that would protect my adorable girl from the harsh Boston winters. I finally found a Columbia brand coat (on sale!) that was perfect. It has a removable lining which she can use immediately, a removable hood and the pink and white colors make her look like a strawberry tart. There's just one problem:

It's HUGE! She's kind of swimming in it right now because the smallest size was a 2T and Liesel's a good 5 months shy of that. I Velcroed the cuffs as small as they would go which helped a bit. Oh well! At least she'll be warm!!!

Ballers

Brent and I try to take advantage of the multitude of cultural offerings around us. We don't want to leave Boston someday and look back at how we stayed home a lot watching movies from our Netflix queue. Luckily for me, Brent is willing to go along with pretty much anything I want to try. Yesterday I convinced him to go to the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame in Springfield, MA where the game was invented. Not that it took a lot of convincing :). They had two exhibits: one on Michael Jordan (recently inducted) and one on Andrew Bernstein who is a sports photographer.

The pleasant surprise of the day was how much fun Liesel had. All of the artifacts were safely protected behind thick glass so she was free to run around. We'd dressed her in a pink and brown track suit with her little pink Nikes and everyone (and I do mean EVERYONE) stopped to admire her. We went early enough in the day so there were no crowds or lines. One section was like an arcade with a hoop shooting game, virtual basketball game and rebound game among others. There were booths where you could listen to the announcers make calls and then try doing it on your own and listen to it played back to you. It's MUCH harder than you'd think! They covered the players, teams, coaches, even referees and different play strategies. I liked the display that illustrates how the game has evolved from radio to television to internet (think brackets). Even if you're not all that into basketball, it draws you in!

Growing up in Iowa City during Michael Jordan's reign really soured me to "Bulls" fans because 1- I prefer college to professional and 2- I found Bulls fans to be the quintessential fair-weather Johnsons. I never liked Dennis Rodman and once heard Scottie Pippin was seen charging kids for his autograph at a mall in Chicago. No offense to all you Bulls fans out there... I'm absolutely sure none of you all were fair-weather Johnsons and loved the Bulls no matter what and not just because they always won and Jordan had the best record in the NBA. I'm sure you were all fans before everyone else :). In fact, I'm sure you're all STILL fans and never miss a game, right? For the record, Brent out and out admits he was never a Bulls fan, he was always simply a Michael Jordan fan. Big difference!

Anyway, cynical as I was, I found the exhibit on Michael Jordan was really well done. Brent devoured the plaques of information while I admired the bling of his championship rings (his third is my favorite). Apparently Nike wasn't what it is today when he signed with them and even he said he didn't know how good he would be. That's definitely what I'd call a symbiotic relationship! They displayed all the iterations of his Air Jordans including the first ones which were outlawed by the NBA because they were red and black.

The photographs by Bernstein were indeed amazing. They displayed not only the athleticism of the game, but the emotion as well. My favorite was one of Bird and Johnson. It says to me that even for them, in the end it was just a game they both loved to play. I didn't know they'd played against each other in college and between the two of them they took the sport to a whole new level in the 80's.

On the lowest level of the museum is (of course) a basketball court. Brent grabbed a ball and showed me a spectacular layup and dunk. Then he admitted the hoop wasn't regulation height. To make up for my disappointment, he did a backwards dunk as well. Every Tuesday night Brent goes over to the ward to play basketball but for some reason in our 3 years of marriage I have NEVER seen him play. Weird? I also learned Brent can "palm" a ball which I guess never quite came up in conversation. Just in case you're wondering, neither Liesel nor I can. On the court there was a replica of the peach basket used in the original game and Brent made an easy shot into that as well. Personally I think a lot of the essence of the game is lost when there's no swish.

The only drawback is that we forgot to charge our camera so all the photos are from my phone. I think as sports museums go, this one really got it right. It was kid-friendly and incredibly interactive which made it all the more fun. The exhibits were designed to give you as much or as little information as you wanted. Hopefully we can do this one again! We missed our in-laws Matthew and Lisa who we know would have really appreciated it. Maybe next time?

Edward... The Other One

Brent and I often call each other at work when something comes to mind and we don't want to wait until evening to talk about it. Today I got one such call from him regarding our latest Netflix movies. It went something like this:

Brent: I'm returning The Proposal today. I wanted to watch the other movie one more time before returning it.

Danika: (knowing full well the other movie is Twilight) Which movie is that?

Brent: Remember, the two movies we watched this weekend? The Proposal and the other one?

Danika: Are you too embarrassed to say the name of the other one at work?

Brent: YES!

Danika: Why?

Brent: Okay, bye now.

In his defense (and to reiterate he's NOT gay), I showed Brent previews of New Moon which piqued his interest. They are after all, a tad more manly what with the werewolves and all. And the only reason he agreed to watch Twilight in the first place is because I'd had a REALLY rough week and was in desperate need of some cuddling with my true love. He's a trooper to sit through that stuff... and even watch it again of his own volition :) Really, quite the trooper.

It's Raining Estrogen! Hallelujah!!!

I have to make this fast because I'm just on lunch break at work. We had an ultrasound today and confirmed what Brent and I had suspected from the beginning: we're having another girl! I could not be more ecstatic to stay in the world of dresses and ribbons and pigtails and princess costumes!!! What can I say? I guess at this point I'm just not meant to "grow a pair" and that is just fine by me. Brent of course is thrilled to be fulfilling his destiny to be surrounded by beautiful women.

Even better news is that the baby is doing just fine, progressing well and she has the most beautiful, elegant little hands! Even the doctor commented on them. I'm SO relieved!!! Something came up on my most recent blood test and they had us meet with a genetic counselor before the ultrasound. In an odd way, I was so grateful to be Mormon and have a fair amount of family history background. The counselor was impressed with how much we knew and how well we could trace our family lines. "Any chance you two could be related? Like second cousins..." H to the NO on that one, we are 100% sure!

I just can't stop smiling :)

Memo to Me, Memo to Me

Make cupcakes BEFORE watching The Biggest Loser. That show is not a friend to pregnant women with a propensity for cravings. Don't forget the jimmies. They looked REALLY good!

Fail

My mother tells me my grandmother made homemade bread often. She would have it hot and ready when they came home from school for lunch. Mom made it less often and tripled the recipe so it was a big deal when she did. We often had it with soup and whole milk. It was a true comfort food and looking back I don't know I appropriately appreciated it.

A couple of years ago I made a plea to get all of Mom's classic recipes. Grandma Grace's homemade bread was among them. During the last April General Conference I thought I'd give it a try since I'd be home all day anyway. I knew my Grandma was tough, but I had no idea how tough until I did some true kneading. Not only did I break a sweat, but I keenly felt the old injuries from my broken arms. All that work was more than worth it though as it started to rise and then bake. Really, the smell that filled the house was just heavenly. The physical food seemed to fit quite well with the spiritual feast we were getting. Mom also passed along a recipe for honey butter which complimented the warm loaves nicely. YUM!

Of course I was looking forward to repeating it with October Conference. We'd bought our own bread pans just for the occasion (I LOVE Crate and Barrel!!!). We talked about who we'd give the extra loaves to: home teaching families, some new people in the ward, and a coworker who recently had a baby. Brent commented the kitchen seemed cleaner as I breezed through the recipe (I was now a bit more familiar). I just forgot one tiny detail: tinfoil over the tops so the crust wouldn't burn. Brent noticed the smoke just before the alarm went off. I ran into the kitchen in time to see all four big loaves and four mini loaves completely burnt. Well, not completely, but let's just say the tinfoil is not a whimsical suggestion.

My heart dropped as I thought about the wasted ingredients, the families we'd been looking forward to surprising, and worst of all, my grandmother who would undoubtedly be so ashamed of her clumsy progeny. She'd never make a mistake like this! Liesel stood in the doorway with a look of alarm on her face as Brent and I tried to figure out what to do. They might be salvageable, they just wouldn't be pretty. I figured the small loaves were cooked through but the big needed more time. We cut open a loaf of each just to be sure. Really it was just the top crust that was ruined but it was REALLY ruined. I sat down, defeated, with two halves of the small loaf in my hands and called my mother to confess.

While I lamented my incompetency to my mother, Liesel moved from the doorway over to me and slowly picked a piece of the warm, soft interior. She popped out her binkie and tried it. Then she took another, then another. She started eating voraciously and I kid you not she gave me a look that said, "See Mom, I like it!" When I mentioned to my mother that at least Liesel seemed to like it she added, "That's amazing! She's a picky eater!" I looked down at my little strawberry blonde who just grinned at me through mouthfuls. My heart melted.

We finished cooking the large loaves, cut one in half to make sure it was finished and then Brent cut off all the tops. I couldn't watch him decapitate the bread I'd worked so hard on. They just look so sad... like a squirrel with no tail or a bird missing a leg. What is bread without the lovely golden brown top? Sure it will taste the same, but you can bet I will never, EVER make this mistake again!!!