Aspirator: Tool of relief or fiendish torture?

If J and I vehemently disagree about anything, it is but this: the use of the aspirator when K has a cold. J thinks all an aspirator accomplishes is in stretching out K's petite nostrils. I, on the other hand, hail the aspirator as the most important weapon in the battle against gallons of mucous congealed in K's sinuses. I don't know who's right, but I do know who suffers: K and only K. Just look at her!! Ok, this photo was taken nearly 18 months ago but that's not the point. 18 months later and I still wince when I see how helpless she is in this photo. If only babies weren't born so vulnerable. If only K could have snatched the aspirator from my grip and snapped "how'd you like to have something that's 25 times the size of your nose jammed up your nose??"
Fast forward 18 months later. K, now nearly 20 months, enduring her umpteenth cold, has finally found her voice. Today, when I neared her, aspirator in hand, she jumped and fled screaming "noooo!" And in the evening, as I was getting ready to put her down to sleep, she demanded "mama take booger out". Ah, what exuberant relief to finally be able to understand my child's wants and needs! Surely this will cut down on the amount of egregious mistakes I make as a parent. And if not, there's always psychotherapy. Just kidding!

It's beginning to look a lot like winter when...

waking up in the morning, you find a pair of these at the bottom of the stairs.

K's first pair of "booties". This is her first pair since I neglected to knit K a pair of booties when she was a newborn, which is merely item #29 on the list of "Ways that I failed my newborn child because I was clueless and terrified and exhausted and did I tell you after 12 weeks I had a 90 minute commute to work, 75 minutes if I got lucky." Actually, did I ever tell you that K? Why did I do it? Why wasn't I home knitting booties??

Ah, I remember now. Because I didn't even know what booties were. Which goes to show what tremendous strides I've made in 19.5 months. Aside from my bootie revelation, I have come to notice children everywhere. Have they always been there, but just on the periphery of my single, then married-but childless, vision? Moreover, I have discovered children are refreshing, a deep long drink for a parched soul. Especially K. This will sound like gushing no matter how much I want to avoid it, but quite simply, I cannot get enough of K these days. With the exception of her refusing to eat the fifth consecutive variety of food I offer her for lunch or deliberately removing the straw out of her cup and creating an ankle-deep pool of orange juice on the floor (it's only 8am K!! mommy hasn't even brewed the coffee!!), I really have become a bit lovestruck. It must be that K's personality is finally at full bloom and thus I am entranced by all that she expresses throughout the day:

In the morning, when asking what she wants for breakfast: "Croissants at la madeline!"

After coming back from la madeline, when offering her an egg: "Eat egg on sofa!"

Throught the day: "Mama read book moon book!" (as she is obsessed with "Papa, please get the moon for me")

The hour before J gets home: "Where dada? Mama find dada!!"

No doubt with time, all the demands will eat away at my soul instead of delighting it, especially when it involves extending curfews and dating a leather-clad biker named Bubba. But for now, the days with K are a wonder to me.

The official trick or treat night

The outfit

The loot

A loose interpretation of the above gesture:

Me: "Would you like your first taste of chocolate and embark on a life-long journey of being a choco-holic like your dear mum?"
K: "I dare say, that interests me not in the least. Please unburden me of these sweets and while you are at it, do pass the broccoli."