You’ve gotta love a girl who’s okay with her? station in life…….

….of course, it’s easy to be okay when your station is Queen.

At least? Her? Royal Fergieness? was gracious enough to? allow hubby a blankie while he broke his back on the floor.? Perhaps in the future I can persuade her to toss him a pillow as well.? And while she’s at it, maybe pass a decree mandating the use of matching socks.

I can’t believe I’ve been so remiss as to neglect? posting? our? Kiddie Kandids? photos from my daughter’s first birthday.? First, I had my son and daughter pose together:

? Cute, huh?? Next, I had my daughter sit by herself for the “real” birthday shot:

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What’s that you say?? You? can’t see anything?? Strange.? Well, actually, I suppose it could be because before we got any shots we could use, Finley? SOMERSAULTED OFF THE ELEVATED STAGE AND LANDED ON HER HEAD.? No, I’m not kidding.? It was seriously horrifying.? In fact, I’m pretty sure I gasped loud enough to be heard at the Babies R Us in San Francisco.

Apparently, the photographer must have been new, memory-impaired, or on crack, because instead of reciting the safety rules and having me sit right by my daughter the entire time TO PREVENT HER FROM BRAINING HERSELF ON THE FLOOR, she instead had me stand back behind? the camera? and make faces, so that my daughter would smile.? ? And don’t get me wrong–I’m all? about smiling baby photos.? Heck, smiling baby photos are the bomb–so long as? your baby doesn’t do? a header off the stage and land with a loud “splat” on the cheaply padded Kiddie Kandids bargain carpeting.

Having rarely been to Kiddie Kandids before, I guess I didn’t realize that kids actually might try to crawl off the platform.? Although, in retrospect–duh.? And I should have known to be cautious after the same photographer? kept attempting? to? perch my twelve month-old daughter on a completely uneven, unstable, and unsuitable? rock prop? lacking even? one iota of? back support.? ? I’m thinking she finally? realized it wouldn’t be safe after I uttered for the fifth time, “This isn’t safe.”? But? when the props were removed, I just went? along with? the photographer’s? directions, never? imagining that my poor little Fin-bucket would topple off the stage.

To make matters worse, they had their insurance company call me a few days later.? Not out of any genuine concern for my child, mind you, but rather just to get me to sign off on any store liability.? When I told them I really wasn’t interested in suing, but it would be nice if they offered to pay for Finley’s doctor’s appointment (to make sure she had no major brain damage) and chiro visit (her neck was totally out of alignment), the lady huffed and puffed and told me she didn’t think the policy covered any medical expenses.? Say what?? And when I said I probably wouldn’t sign anything right away, just to be on the safe side? (a personal family experience turned bad has left me cautious), she basically told me never fear, they wouldn’t need me to sign because her client probably wasn’t negligent anyway.? And I repeat–Say what?? Um, since when is the client not? negligent when they not only neglect to inform? the customer? of company safety policies, but also? violate those same policies?? Because after talking to a bunch of friends who frequent Kiddie Kandids, well, frequently, it becomes readily? apparent that there was? a flagrant lack of regular procedure during my visit.? Namely, that parents MUST be within an arm’s reach of their child, on the stage, at ALL times.?

Oh, and just to top off what was already an utterly miserable experience–the one photo they got of my daughter prior to the fall?? That I might have purchased?? Well, apparently, I’m not allowed to have it.? You see, silly me, I put her in a denim overall dress with nothing under it,? going for that? cute chubby baby look.? Little did I know that flashing a? minuscule bit of my baby girl’s? skin would be considered pornographic by Kiddie Kandids.? Not that they said that in so many words.? What they did say, however, was that infant girls are never allowed to expose their, eh-hem, “chest”, EVER.? As in, ever.? And little boys?? Only until they’re 9 months old.? And if that isn’t absolutely the most ludicrous thing I’ve heard in a very long time, I’ll eat my hound dog.? Well, maybe just the tip of her tail–with all the junk Fergie consumes on a daily basis, I can’t imagine she’d make a very tasty meal.

Needless to say, I think my Kiddie Kandids days are over.? Picture People, with your on the floor photos and hopefully less? moronic policies regarding exposed baby flesh, here I come!

So, how’s that for Kandid?

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Just had to post this photo my aunt sent me from Colorado of Zag (Fergie’s? ONLY black? nosed show littermate out of seven show puppies) playing with Dimond.

From my angle, it’s hard to tell if we’re looking at Ridgebacks or kangaroos.? Although, I bet kangaroos inflict less damage on remotes and shoes.? (Yes, Zag, I’m talking about you.? Even if you are a black nose.)

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I know this is such a cliche, but I seriously can’t believe how quickly time has passed. Finley celebrated her first birthday yesterday.? It’s almost unfathomable how our tiny infant girl morphed into this sturdy little toddler.? Okay, well, at over 9 lbs at birth, maybe she was never exactly “tiny”.? But you know what I mean.?

I guess a huge part of? the bittersweet aspect is? that we seem to be enjoying our daughter’s babyhood so much more than our son’s.? Not that we didn’t love him equally as much when he was that age.? But it just seemed so much more stressful, that whole fear of the unknown thing.? Whereas now we’re baby pros.? Or not.? But it is easier.? ? However, I’m still? soliciting insight as to how to manage a four year-old dude with a ‘tude, so if anyone has any nuggets of wisdom they’d care to throw my way, I’m all ears.? Barring that, a gift certificate for a month at the spa might work wonders as well.

At any rate, happy 1st birthday, Finley!

Finley and her new “gumball” machine

Finley meets the cupcake.? “Hmmmm, what is this strange looking creature?”

“No matter—it must be edible.? Isn’t everything?”

“W-o-o-o-w-w-w-w-w!!!!!!!!!!!!!!? This sure ain’t broccoli!”? (Did I spell broccoli right?? Wow, that’s a first.)

“Dude.? Cupcakes are? da BOMB!”

“Finger-lickin’ good!”

(In the interest of full disclosure–no, we didn’t let her have the whole cupcake.? Just a few bites, in fact.? Those of you who know me probably already assumed this without me saying anything.? Actually, I planned to make healthy, low-sugar and oil zucchini cupcakes, but in all honesty, I just got lazy.? Plus, I figured with my genes, the poor kid is going to like her sugar, no matter when it gets introduced.? So, I ordered delicious cupcakes to share with friends from our neighborhood Cake Lady, Nicki.? Totally sugar-laden, but totally worth it!)

Just when you think your insane life is? rising from? the ashes of chaos? with some semblance of order, you get a phone call from your dad.? And guess what?? He’s bringing Fergie back.? (Of course, in my head, that last line is sung to the tune of JT’s little ditty).? Oh, yeah.? The Ferganator is coming home.

Basically, this means it’s time to batten down the hatches.? Or, in our case, the junk.? As in, picking it up off the floors.? And the tables (although, not the coffee table–we still don’t have one of those).? Yep, the counter too.? Because the Ferganator knows no boundaries when it comes to creating her own special chew toys.? And alas, she thinks everything is edible.? Even beer cans.

So, yep, she’s finally home.? My son is ecstatic.? In fact, Fergie had to play Candyland with us last night.? ? She even selected the playing cards on her own.? The trouble, of course, was extricating the cards from her? jaw afterwards, but we made it work.? Well, maybe we? lost a card or two.? But really, they give you way too many in that game.? So we can still play.? Even if there are no orange or blue ones left.

And wouldn’t you know it, no sooner is she home for five minutes, then she digs this out of the bathroom trash:

Notice it’s already half ingested.? Because there’s nothing like a? little cardboard to wash down those chicken backs.? And actually, to be perfectly accurate, she stole about six of them.? Which leads to a much more disturbing question–how the heck do we go through so much toilet paper around here?? Although? I suppose at least this means my socks are safe, for the time being anyway.

As you can see, she’s having a challenging time readjusting to life here.? Can’t you just? see the stress oozing from every pore?

Less than 24 hours, and she’s already back to her sofa hogging ways.? But at least she didn’t comment on the missing coffee table.

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Okay, so things are FINALLY settling down to normal here after my 5 day stint at the Ridgeback National Specialty in Gettysburg, PA, which involved me leaving my almost one year-old and 4.5 year-old home alone with my cleanliness-challenged husband.? Although I have to say, I was completely shocked in a good way? when I arrived home and? our house was not only still standing, but actually didn’t resemble a recent bomb site on the inside.? And nary a broken glass to be seen.? Honestly, I’m left sort of wondering when the bulldozer came and how long it was here, but that’s okay.? I mean, I don’t really care what means achieved these ends, as long as? they don’t? involve me wading knee-high through daddy-was-home-alone-with-the-kids carnage.

At any rate, I’ll try to write some about my adventures this weekend, but for now, here’s a photo of me and the Ferganator in our hotel room, with all the awards she helped win.? As it turns out, Fergie apparently is good for something other than destroying random objects around the house.? Although saying she was? “good” at the show would probably be a bit of an overstatement—just ask my aunt.