Candy and Lou are a rather handy duo in our home. They arrived about three years ago and haven't stopped working yet.

Candeloos are safe, portable lamps - ones that are perfectly sized for small hands, easy to recharge and most importantly don't heat up to burn a child. They last about eight hours on and have two levels of brightness.

I went looking for some type of child safe rechargeable lighting when our daughter went through a stage where she was damp at night. We'd worked hard to get her to wake up and go pee but found at times, she was scared or didn't want to go without Mom. And that turned into waking up Mom and Dad several times a night plus her leaving lights scattered on all over the upstairs, despite the bevy of night lights and other low lights we set up to guide her way.

So we found Candy and Lou, the pair of Candeloos, which have worked like a charm.

Just take it off the charging pad and it lights right up with a warm but solid glow capable of handling a trip to the bathroom or just a visit to mom & dad. These guys work like a charm - sometimes too well in our house, as we find our daughter has snuck a dog or two upstairs.

Small hands can hold by those the tips up top, bigger hands can grasp the body of it. They are sturdy too and we would know as we have been rough on them, drops, rolls under beds, left off chargers for days and all sorts of things.

We got a wall shelf and mounted it right outside our daughter's door. The recharging pad is just a slightly indented circle, no odd or difficult connections. Our daughter just sits it on there and it is recharging.

Also with no overhead lights on, she'll go back to sleep much easier. Sometimes she'll just keep her Candeloo next to her bed if she is scared. Works great until morning.

It's even handy in a power outage!

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things squabbles I cannot change stop;
courage to change the things supervise where I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

I'm whispering that continuously to myself in hopes that our daughter's birthday party doesn't become a 22 kid free for all.

At ten, I'm hoping this birthday party will have less messes, less accidents, less boo-boos, less tears and less screaming at the top of their lungs. That no children will bounce on each other, that no one will throw or mash up cake, that no one will get peeved that they didn't get the piece of cake they want ... and to end the night, that no parent will show up 20 minutes late to pick up their child.

I suspect I'm kidding myself and I'll leave the party frazzled but happy, as always.

© bymanu

Today our daughter is Ten! Double digits!

For us, the phrase 'our daughter' means more than just my husband and I - it includes her birthparents.

Our daughter was adopted and we have a fairly open adoption. I'm not going to hash all that out here, there have been ups and downs, good and bad points. However it was the best plan for the situation and for our child - and we are all here for the long haul. Her needs come first.

As I wrote about before with the Wii entry, mine and my husband's families were here this weekend so she was lavished with love and attention then - not a bad gig being the only grandchild on either side.

Continuing on, last night some of her birthdad's family happened to be coming through town and stopped by to give her gifts and hugs. This morning before school her birthmom and her grandmother (birthmom's mom) called to wish her happy birthday. There is a box from her grandparents with instructions not to open sitting out on the table that our daughter is dying to rip into asap.

No matter what we've all faced, I hope that this birthday our daughter knows she is loved by all the parts of her family.

First right off the bat - it's cool to really want to play with your kid's birthday gift a lot, right? I mean, that's nothing bad. She can still play, she's just gotta wait her turn. The playground works that way, sharing is good. It's fair for us to have some fun too.

Ahh crap, that's not gonna fly is it?

Our birthday gift to our daughter was a Wii. We got family to give her games, extra controllers and other stuff for it. She got it a few days early because family was coming in down this weekend with their gifts plus we knew she'd want to play it and giving her that mid-week might be a bit disruptive to the school night.

The Wii has been evaluated and discussed at length but I can certainly give it two (or six) thumbs up in our house. We let our daughter play with it for awhile but then my husband, her uncle and I wanted to try and eventually we dragged all four of her grandparents who were there into playing too.

Having a game that could include up to four people really made the Wii for all ages. How goofy is it to say a video game system could be a great family night or holiday event for all of your family? I can see next Thanksgiving as turkey, football, dessert and then a Wii bowling tournament!

By the time we all played and then took nine people out to dinner on a Saturday night, the evening was gone and our daughter didn't get to play the Wii when we got back as it was well past her bedtime. She was mightily peeved but we kept saying, you can play tomorrow and until it breaks! Family was leaving early Sunday morning so she'd have lots of time.

After our daughter went to bed, I decided to play some alone. I made my Mii. I practiced some, did some fitness things, fired up some tennis and baseball.

I used to be a good athlete. Always short and pudgy but that intense kid who never stopped scrapping. My lack of physical prowess was offset by great hand eye coordinator and quick reflexes. Of course now at 37 years old my lack of physical skills is at a whole new all-time low with my creaky knees, ever plumping self and general couch potato malaise.

But now on the Wii, my lack of conditioning wasn't as big a deal. I could use those fast hands to play these games well. Don't get me wrong - by the time I was done, I was covered in sweat and actually had one of the best workouts I've had in about 10 years. I had been gulping water the entire time and almost wanted to take a shower. It is addictive but what was also addictive was feeling like an athlete again.

Of course my 37 year old body woke up with a right arm that felt like it had been wrenched out of its socket. Do you think that the universe is making me pay for putting my kiddo to bed and then playing with her birthday gift? Typing on this laptop isn't bad but I just tried to scratch my nose and my bicep burned.

Is there a Wii-hospital for my Wii-Injury? Why didn't someone tell me to Wii-stretch first?? Do they market Wii-motrin?

Of course my daughter played this morning for about 90 minutes and then went off to a two hour soccer 3x3 tournament where she placed fourth overall and now is going to play the Wii more. Boundless energy.

She just hopped in the shower and said, mom play with me when I get out.

I'm looking for a Wii hiding place for me and my sore arm.

© John-Morgan
When it comes to the safety of our children, we can't predict what activities are going to turn in to potential nightmares. Sure, we can make an educated guess, like it's probably fair to say letting a 5 year old drive a 3/4 ton truck alone is probably not the safest activity you could choose.

Or how about sitting on a skateboard riding down a long, steep driveway? Without helmets? Yeah, I'm guilty as charged. Last weekend we went to Aunt Cheryl's house to have dinner and celebrate my youngest son's birthday. Cheryl's kids are all grown, and all extremely active in sports of all kinds. Including skateboards.

So long story short, Cheryl's youngest daughter was teaching one of the 10 year old clones how to Olly (jump without a ramp) over a tin can on a skateboard. On one attempt, he clipped a wind chime that fell on my son's head. It was a big sucker too. Aluminum tubing about 2 inches in dia, about 3 to 4 feet long each.

He caught two of them; one on the forehead above the left eye and one on the upper cheek right next to the right eye just below the temple. Let me tell you... in case you've never seen it, seeing blood gushing from your kid's forehead is not a good thing. Time slows down and you think terrible thoughts. The good part is that you can almost fly. I was about 20 or 30 feet from him when I heard the crash, and in about two steps I was over there before the last tube stopped bouncing.

After about 2-3 minutes of doctoring, we decided to forgo the hospital/stitches route, simply because I couldn't see traumatizing the poor boy twice. A butterfly held it closed for 4 days, even after he smacked it no less that twice since, once on the hard wood floor at home. I have been calling him Little Bump since before he could walk, and for good reason. Now I shall call him Big Bump.

Also for good reason.

How odd that the entire time I was worried about the kids skating down the driveway, only be have something completely different happen.

Yesterday I was driving home after some errands when I saw numerous police vehicles, lanes blocked and all sorts of activity. I thought for sure it was an major accident or a huge drug bust as I sat there stalled in traffic.

One driver who was stuck in traffic actually got out and yelled at the cop for blocking the lanes. The cop quickly and strongly dismissed him. That peaked my interest even more what the hubbub was about.

Soon after I saw the hearse, a funeral perhaps but this was a lot for that. A car with flags, followed by a motorcycle contingent of National Guard and other vets came by and I realized it was the escort from the airport to the funeral home for a local soldier killed in Iraq.

I'd read his father's remarks in the newspaper and all I could think of is that in that hearse was someone's son. In the obituary, no siblings were mentioned - it was someone's only child.

I'm not going to debate this war here but since I've become a parent, my ability to deal rationally with scenes like this has gone out the door. I rarely want to watch horror movies anymore. Sad stories make the tears flow openly. I have to ask my husband to fast forward on the news sometimes because I just can't handle some things.

I just sat in my car and cried.