Today

Least Favorite Momont: Trying to get stuff done at work with the Little Miss whining in my right ear as she dangled from my hip.

Most Favorite Moment: The Little Miss looking at me and saying, " I wove you, Mom. I wove you much," then squeezing me tight and patting my back as we hugged.


Most Favorite Moment cancels out Least Favorite Moment.

"I'm Gama"

I was cooking dinner when I heard a little voice say, "I'm Gama (Grandma). Name is Gama" I looked to my left and in hobbles Penélope with her makeshift cane (the handle to my Brazilian flag, actually). She was imitating 93 year-old Nana Dilly that we recently visited in North Dakota.

Is she a riot or what?

Mr. Moose

Last night the Little Miss didn't sleep very well. I know, that's so shocking. That means that Little Really Tired Mom didn't sleep much either. Oh, well, right? Not so unusual in this household.

However, what's really unusual is to see fire at 2am. I was rocking the Little Miss and naturally at this time of the night when I'm-supposed-to-be-sleeping-but-am-not-and-cannot I had my eyes closed. Minutes later I opened my foggy eyes and much to my horror the bookcase next to her bed was on fire! I FREAKED, in a very sleepy kind of way. Adrenaline scurried to every inch of my body instantly only to realize moments later as my eyes focused that it was only Mr. Moose warming himself by the campfire.

I didn't think Mr. Moose the nightlight was working. Apparently, he was dormant for months and suddenly decided to wake up and warm himself by his little campfire at 2am! Funny thing, it wasn't working for the picture.Hmm, I'm thinking he's got more scare tactics up his sleeve.

P.S. Consider yourself warned, Mr. Moose. You will be cold tonight, no campfire for you!

A Hug, a Dance and Coldplay

We have a rule at our house: I never let go of a "Penélope" hug first, we hug until she lets go.

Yesterday, she was, shall we say, CRABBY. I don't like crabby. Usually, it means I get crabby. So after listening to the moaning and whining and crying I decided we should dance. Well, Little Miss Crabby did not want to dance; she wanted to "crab." And after the coercing didn't work, I simply picked her up into my arms.

Immediately, she wrapped her little arms, still sticky with bits of snack, tightly around my neck and the moaning stopped. I cued the music to Coldplay's, Strawberry Swing. She rested her snotty-dried cheeks onto mine and we swung to the dreamy sound of the music.

To my surprise, Strawberry Swing was long gone and four tracks later, her clasp was still tight. We twirled and swayed and every once-in-a-while I'd peak at her face. She wasn't laughing or being goofy, just content, every so often closing her eyes and soaking in the hug. Little did she know that it was me who was soaking it all in...

Puffy, Round and Magic Pills

Three days ago I was handed a bottle of Magic Pills. That's right. My cousin, Tricia McLeod was the one responsible for doing that. She is an Arbonne consultant and she said that these pills are magical. Actually, she didn't say that, but I like to think that she did.

You see, I have a problem, a big fat one. Yep, it's a round puffy kind of problem. My 2008 New Years Resolutions was a bold and noble attempt at making very low key, accessible, impossible NOT to reach kind of goals. I said that I wanted to lose 3 pounds.

OK, I did not realize how hard that actually is. I've been hungry and I've been sore from working out and the roundness and puffiness of my pounds simply will not deflate. I'm thinking I wasn't noble enough. I should have said ONE pound. Yeah, that even sounds nobler.

This round little (OK, not so little) annoying problem does not make Michelle happy. Michelle likes to feel happy. Michelle, however, has been feeling upset, angry, irritable--HUNGRY, for Pete's sake.

In light of this lack of happiness and ever growing bitterness, I have felt the noble urgings of finding and buying Magic Pills. It's all natural, no side effects, herbal, earthy, green kind of product (doesn't that sound magical?) that is supposed to speed up my dead beat metabolism. Apparently, it's forgotten how to function at all. If the pills work, I might just have to call them my Happy Pills. It is a month's supply, so I will give an update when all the magic is gone.

Tricia said that I could lose fifty pounds in one month. Actually, she didn't say that at all, I just like to pretend she did.

7 de setembro

Well, folks, I'm reentering Blog World. Summer is over and Penélope and I are back to work, and so the blog must go on. We anticipate the fall with great trepidation because of what comes after....no, I will not say that "s" word.

Yesterday was 7 de setembro, Brazil's independence day. In honor of my beloved country I took out my flag and tried to be as Brazilian as I could. We had Brazilian coffee from Minas Gerais, my home state (for those interested, Christopher found it at Caribou. It's a seasonal blend called Poço Fundo) and crusty bread for breakfast. I also hooked my little flag to the window of my jeep and it flew proudly, eventually, humbly, as we drove around town. I say humbly because by the end of the day half of the flag had unraveled in the wind...

We finished it off by going over to Michael and Cari's for pasteis, a fried, Brazilian snack food...oh so good.

I took some pictures of my brasileirinha...they are all out of focus, but she still is so cute out of focus that I couldn't resist posting some of them...