Sophie has her first cold. We went to the pediatrician on Saturday who advised us to keep her nose clear with the bulb syringe (booger sucker) and saline drops. There is no medication to help her through this. She just has to let it run it’s course.

Sophie has decided to let us know how awful this is by crying a pitiful little mew while snorting all day. She doesn’t want to nap in her swing or her crib. Only Mama’s chest will do. Even then, she will wake up to give me a pouty look as if to say “Mama, fix it!” I wish I could, Little One. She gets her nose cleared out before eating each bottle so she won’t suffocate. Today she’s learned how to dodge it and I have to hold her down. She’s getting pretty strong for a 10 pound meatloaf. On Sunday, she got generous and shared her cold with Mama. We’ve holed up on the couch today, snorting snotty noses and dozing off and on. It’s been a pretty miserable day.

I think we’ll both get generous with Daddy tonight.

I’ve been in a major baking mood lately. Last Saturday, I made Ben a giant chocolate chip cookie cake with peanut butter cup chips and a thick layer of frosting. He loves it and has been whittling away at it for days. I’m not a huge chocolate fan so today I decided to make my favorite cookies, snickerdoodles.

I had just laid out all of my ingredients and cookware when Sophie began to fuss. She hadn’t had a nap in a while and I knew I would have to hold her to make her sleepy. I grabbed her sling and plunked her on my chest. While she cried, I explained everything I was doing in a low steady voice. She got quiet and focused on my voice. She also relaxed at the sound of the hand mixer. (She likes white noises like fans and hair dryers.) The last step of the cookie dough was to gradually add the flour. On the last batch in, I accidentally turned my mixer on WAY too high and threw flour everywhere. I continued mixing and figured I could clean it after I was done. When I turned the mixer off, I heard the tiniest little sound.

“kaff!”

I looked down and Sophie looked back up at me. Her eyelashes were heavy under a dusting of flour and her hair looked frosted. Oops. By the way, when you try to get flour off of your baby’s face, do not pick them up and blow on them like you’re an archaeologist in a bad mummy movie.

I can’t wait to teach her how to cook and bake. Then she can get me back.

This weekend I began brainstorming about my upcoming birthday. I’m turning 29 this year and I feel a little uck about it. I usually don’t make a big deal out of my birthday but this one feels different. I told Ben, my mom and my dad that I would love to have a laser tag party. I think I have geeky enough friends to go for it. Ben and I joked about putting my grandma in a laser tag get-up and posting a picture to Digg. My mother got a look on her face and asked if laser tag hurts. I told her that a hit only makes your vest vibrate.

“Good. I guess I was thinking about paintball. One hit would kill your grandma.”

(Ben) “I can see the headlines the next day. SAINTLY WOMAN KILLED IN FREAK PAINTBALL ACCIDENT.”

My name is Kelly Dyer. I just made two perfect grilled cheese sandwiches.

IN YOUR FACE.

KC: What if I made big baked potatoes for dinner? I could put BBQ beef on them to make it heartier.

RB: I don’t know.  The only meat I like on my baked potatoes would be bacon bits.

KC: You know those aren’t real meat, right? They’re artificial. I think they’re made of soy.

RB: What?!…OK…(deep breath)…my whole bacon universe has been turned on it’s head.