Blown Fuses Make for Unstable Surroundings

Well, we're the proud owners of a 2005 Dodge Grand Caravan that has the use of neither its automatic locking system nor its horn. We picked it up Wednesday morning and by Wednesday evening I discovered the automatic locks weren't working, either by using the key mechanism, the inside buttons or by inserting the key in the lock. The key will lock the driver's side door, but a second turn will not engage the locks on the rest of the doors the way it's supposed to. By Friday, Jack discovered the horn wasn't working, either. The locks aren't life-threatening, but a car won't pass inspection without a horn. I'm worried that it means we've got a lemon; if it's a matter of fuses blown, I don't want to have to keep replacing fuses. That is usually indicative of a bigger problem. I don't think the dealership is going to jerk us around, but I won't feel 100-percent happy with the car until it is 100 percent. It's a lovely car otherwise.

Speaking of lovely, the lovely Baby Brigid has had her share of blown fuses this week. She's developing a temper and throws it around, even if only briefly, when she's frustrated or can't get her way. Going outside has become one of the main areas of frustration. She'll run to the back door or point in that direction if you're holding her and start screaming. She'll pound on the door. She also does this very cute marching in place thing when she's angry, kind of stomping to a beat. It's hard not to laugh because she's serious.

She's also been congested the last week. I've never known a kid to grow a crop of boogers the way she can. You can harvest them one day and there they are the next, ripe for the picking. But she won't just let you get in there. She flails and screams and writhes and wriggles. She hates having her nose wiped, but she knows what it means when you ask her if she has any boogies in there. She'll want to pick your nose. It's turnabout. And to her, it's fair play.

She also knows what it means when I say I have to change her diaper. She'll run into her room and stand at the changing table, actually, she'll stand there and try to climb up onto it. She'll pull out a diaper and hand it to you. She's incredibly bright and although she babbles incessently and a rare word crops in, she understands and gets things more than you'd think. She understands when you ask, "Do you want to take a bath?" She knows it means she gets to climb the stairs (the only time I let her climb the stairs, btw, with me right behind her the whole way). She knows what naked time means -- she loves naked time. She understands "Do you want a snack?" and knows specific snacks like cookie or puffs. She knows many, many words even if she can't yet say them. I get the feeling we're about to experience an explosion of vocabulary any day by the way she's experimenting with her sounds and using her tongue to make new sounds. Maybe then we'll have less fuse-blowing all around.