Part One: Light of My Life

My middle child came to earth looking like he had been scrubbed by Clorox. Upon his arrival, his immediate welcoming party was not in his mother's arms, but with an oxygen tube jammed down his esophagus. So when my mother declared I think that kid's going to be blonde!.....and pale! I immediately discounted it to his pseudo-emergency oxygen scuffle with our loving nurses. No mom, he just needs a good wash. No mom, he's just needs good quality air. No mom, his eyes will darken...all babies start with blue eyes.

Uuuhhhh. No mom. Just wait til he hits puberty.

For now, he's the sunny version of The Mister of the House. We call him Vanilla Wafer. Seeing how he came to our family after Rainbow Girl and her entourage of fairies and pink, our house was ill-equipped with the necessary boy toys. We first discovered his fascination with anything on wheels shortly after he learned to crawl, when he found leftover soda can so thirstily emptied by The Mister of the House. With head to the floor, he would shuffle on 3 limbs while he rolled the empty can on its side all over that house. It wasn't until we were at Grandma's that Vanilla Wafer found his first love....a matchbox car. That kid needs some cars! Look at him roll that car all over the floor!

Uuuhhhh. No mom. We need our kids to be deprived enough that a trip to the library equals a carnival.

While Mrs. Olsen may have a hard time admitting that she is completely winging this parenting thing to her mom, it's obvious that Grandma was right. Vanilla Wafer has carressed and loved all things-that-go. His love affair evolved from pop cans, to cars, then to trains.

Between his wheeled obsessions and undying affection for Buddha Baby, I think it's safe to say that he spends the better part of the day rolling around the floor.

Uuuhhhh. No mom. Eating cereal off the floor builds your immune system. *smile*

I love this picture of Vanilla Wafer:

Can you say deer in headlights?

Does that tan run on batteries?

Where's my sunglasses?

Where does his forehead end and hair begin?

Was it stretch when playing your role as Silas in The Da Vinci Code?

He's our own little compact fluorescent.

Speaking of which, you've got to love "CFL's" for all the loving work they're doing for carbon emissions. Even those from the "Natural-Warming-Trend" crowd have to appreciate them for their pure economy. Consider this fact:

If every home in America replaced just one incandescent light bulb with an energy star qualified CFL bulb, well, then this would happen in just one year:

• save enough energy to light 3 million homes
• it would prevent the release of carbon emissions equal to 800,000 cars

If every home had just one Vanilla Wafer, this would happen in just one year:

• approximately 300,675,275 kisses would be coaxed through eyebrow flirting and fake crying, giving moms more energy to complete their tasks
• an additional 8 million pounds of carbon emissions would be saved because you would avoid unnecessary trips to the grocery store a.k.a. toy or candy aisle

Which is why Mrs. Olsen is so conflicted. Besides hating to have my beautiful bare feet rubbing dirt or carpet, I have made some attempts to be a grubby granola living more consciously, growing my own food, purchasing hormone-free beef, recycle, whatever...

But these little beauties, these compact fluorescent bulbs? I greet them like Mrs. Olsen meeting Vanilla Wafer in the toy aisle. All the morning hugs and kisses forgotten when I shelve the 20th version of Thomas the Tank Engine. The love is still there somewhere, our mutual benefits tolerated....but the trust is gone.

Stay tuned for Part Deux. I have a dirty little secret.

P.S. Mom you know I love yq!