... this kind of stuff gets me real fired up. Brain and Behavior was by far my favorite class in college. I think I was a neuroscientist in a former life. Synapses and serotonin and protein synthesis... ahhh...
And, you may or may not find me watching videos here during naptime. Maybe it helps that I have a bit of a crush on Liev Schreiber, who narrates some episodes.
I've embraced my inner nerd.
Still
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
The house is still. Well, except for the hum of the greatest invention on earth... air conditioning.
I'm suddenly regretting the decision to forego napping in favor of internet browsing, and I fear the stillness will be over momentarily. Or perhaps as soon as I'd drift off, if I did decide to get comfy on the couch.
I'm still loving being home.
We're still out and about and having tons of fun.
We're still in the process of all things potty training-related.
I'm still waiting to find out if Jo will be placed in the a.m. or p.m. preschool session at the school we were accepted to this coming fall.
I feel like we're all doing really well with our new arrangement, but I'm still waiting to wake up and have to head back to the big building at the intersection of 6th and Robert.
The girls still amaze me every day. Monday morning Josie asked me, in all seriousness and with wide eyes and quiet voice, "...if when we cry, our hearts cry, too." Eve was playing with an imaginary friend (named Dora) this morning. She got really mad when Josie "squished Dora" on the couch while she was trying to read a story to her.
And... the laundry is still waiting for me. *sigh* More later.
I'm suddenly regretting the decision to forego napping in favor of internet browsing, and I fear the stillness will be over momentarily. Or perhaps as soon as I'd drift off, if I did decide to get comfy on the couch.
I'm still loving being home.
We're still out and about and having tons of fun.
We're still in the process of all things potty training-related.
I'm still waiting to find out if Jo will be placed in the a.m. or p.m. preschool session at the school we were accepted to this coming fall.
I feel like we're all doing really well with our new arrangement, but I'm still waiting to wake up and have to head back to the big building at the intersection of 6th and Robert.
The girls still amaze me every day. Monday morning Josie asked me, in all seriousness and with wide eyes and quiet voice, "...if when we cry, our hearts cry, too." Eve was playing with an imaginary friend (named Dora) this morning. She got really mad when Josie "squished Dora" on the couch while she was trying to read a story to her.
And... the laundry is still waiting for me. *sigh* More later.
Phenomenal Cosmic Power... Itty Bitty Living Space
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Today, in the freezer aisle at Rainbow Foods in Oakdale, I held true power in my hand. It came in the form of two containers of Breyer's ice cream (on sale this week 2/$5.00, of course,) and with these creamy, delicious miracles... I could get pretty much anything I wanted from my offspring.
In hindsight, I probably could have tested it out and tried for a couple of jumping jacks or a back rub or something, but I settled for having them get back in the car cart and get along with each other. The threat of not getting any ice cream can make Josie move faster than her daddy on his way to a clearance rack with a half-off coupon.
With the decision to stay home, comes a whole array of Things I Didn't Consider. Like how fast consumables such as toilet paper, dishwasher liquid and milk would fly off our shelves. And how much more annoyed I'd be by unfinished projects around our itty bitty living space, now that I'm staring at them all day long. And how an adult conversation... wait, let me rephrase that, lest you start rumors about how I'm finding some extra income for TP and milk, a conversation WITH an adult... well, let's just say talking with someone who doesn't need you to go back through your conversation and explain the meaning behind each of the words can become a very big highlight of my day. Don't get me wrong - I'm still loving every aspect of our new arrangement. I'm tired in a whole new way at the end of each day, and feel content in a way I've never known before. There's just lots for me still to learn.
OH - in other breaking Daly Life news... Eve put a big ole number 2 right in the potty today. Yessss! We're close, so close. Now that's a birthday present I'll bet Pat never thought to wish for. :)
In hindsight, I probably could have tested it out and tried for a couple of jumping jacks or a back rub or something, but I settled for having them get back in the car cart and get along with each other. The threat of not getting any ice cream can make Josie move faster than her daddy on his way to a clearance rack with a half-off coupon.
With the decision to stay home, comes a whole array of Things I Didn't Consider. Like how fast consumables such as toilet paper, dishwasher liquid and milk would fly off our shelves. And how much more annoyed I'd be by unfinished projects around our itty bitty living space, now that I'm staring at them all day long. And how an adult conversation... wait, let me rephrase that, lest you start rumors about how I'm finding some extra income for TP and milk, a conversation WITH an adult... well, let's just say talking with someone who doesn't need you to go back through your conversation and explain the meaning behind each of the words can become a very big highlight of my day. Don't get me wrong - I'm still loving every aspect of our new arrangement. I'm tired in a whole new way at the end of each day, and feel content in a way I've never known before. There's just lots for me still to learn.
OH - in other breaking Daly Life news... Eve put a big ole number 2 right in the potty today. Yessss! We're close, so close. Now that's a birthday present I'll bet Pat never thought to wish for. :)
Today is the eve of the seven months where he can't say that I'm a year older than him.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Tomorrow, Patrick Daly turns 33.
Sure, sometimes he still gets carded at the bar.
But, seriously - look at that face.
He can talk at length with my 90-year-old grandmother about baseball, and the Twins' latest win/loss. Secretly, I think she may love him more than she loves me. But that's okay. I don't blame her. :)
He is the reason our girls laugh their true belly-laughs, love to sit and watch a hockey game and know what an "on sale" sticker is at the grocery store.
He is the reason I'm able to be sitting at home, at 1:40 in the afternoon on a Tuesday, listening to one of our girls taking a nap. The other, not so much.
Happy Birthday. And thank you for all the reasons you give me every single day to love you so much.
Sure, sometimes he still gets carded at the bar.
But, seriously - look at that face.
He can talk at length with my 90-year-old grandmother about baseball, and the Twins' latest win/loss. Secretly, I think she may love him more than she loves me. But that's okay. I don't blame her. :)
He is the reason our girls laugh their true belly-laughs, love to sit and watch a hockey game and know what an "on sale" sticker is at the grocery store.
He is the reason I'm able to be sitting at home, at 1:40 in the afternoon on a Tuesday, listening to one of our girls taking a nap. The other, not so much.
Happy Birthday. And thank you for all the reasons you give me every single day to love you so much.
Images
Thursday, June 11, 2009
The rollercoaster ride continues, and today was a day at the top of the hill - all about fun.
Eyes open. Arms up. Enjoy the ride.
The cotton fluff floated through the air and seven kids ran through the yard in swimsuits, soaking up the sun as it played hide and seek under the clouds, and another kicked and watched the fun from the safety of a stroller parked in the shade.
What struck me today, as I sat in the grass with girlfriends while we watched our kids play, was all the images I've been missing out on - the every day moments that can't be recreated and that I was too hurried and too frazzled to realize were occuring in my previous life. I didn't even take the camera out of my bag today. There was no need. I didn't miss a thing.
Josie, red hair toussled over her shoulder, watching from a distance while she gauged the safety of the situation before deciding to join in the fun.
Eve, wrapped up in a towel, little toes and bright eyes poking out, trying to dry off and stay warm and deny how much she'd like to curl up in the grass and take a nap.
I'm filled with gratitude tonight. For the opportunities in front of me, the support behind me, and mostly, for the realization that it was time to stop and take a look around at all of it before it was too late. I only hope I can remember this feeling in the tough moments.
It's been a while since I've shared images with the internet. Here are some highlights from the past 4 months or so.
Eyes open. Arms up. Enjoy the ride.
The cotton fluff floated through the air and seven kids ran through the yard in swimsuits, soaking up the sun as it played hide and seek under the clouds, and another kicked and watched the fun from the safety of a stroller parked in the shade.
What struck me today, as I sat in the grass with girlfriends while we watched our kids play, was all the images I've been missing out on - the every day moments that can't be recreated and that I was too hurried and too frazzled to realize were occuring in my previous life. I didn't even take the camera out of my bag today. There was no need. I didn't miss a thing.
Josie, red hair toussled over her shoulder, watching from a distance while she gauged the safety of the situation before deciding to join in the fun.
Eve, wrapped up in a towel, little toes and bright eyes poking out, trying to dry off and stay warm and deny how much she'd like to curl up in the grass and take a nap.
I'm filled with gratitude tonight. For the opportunities in front of me, the support behind me, and mostly, for the realization that it was time to stop and take a look around at all of it before it was too late. I only hope I can remember this feeling in the tough moments.
It's been a while since I've shared images with the internet. Here are some highlights from the past 4 months or so.
My new office has a window view
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
As I sat cross-legged on the bathroom floor today staring straight ahead at a toilet very in need of a honest-to-goodness scrubbin, I realized that... this is it. THIS is what my life has come to. My new cubical is the bathroom. It's where I'm spending the majority of my time at home, thus far, in the throes of a not-so-successful potty training experience with Eve. We've been workin' it for a while now, and I still feel like the light at the end of the tunnel is about as close as... frickin' A - I can't even think of anything clever. It sucks, and it's nowhere near over. Rewards, encouragement, tears, screaming... none of it working. We can't get that kid to drop her kids off at the pool for nothin'.
I know someday we'll be prancing about town in our big girl undies like nobody's business, nary a worry about pee-pee accidents on our minds. But for now, I'll be hanging out on the bathroom floor. And not in a good way.
I know someday we'll be prancing about town in our big girl undies like nobody's business, nary a worry about pee-pee accidents on our minds. But for now, I'll be hanging out on the bathroom floor. And not in a good way.
Parenting is Exhausting
Sunday, June 07, 2009
Week One is done. And we're all still alive.
Exhausted, but alive.
There was a lot of laughter, and a few tears, I won't lie. Thursday was the toughest day - Eve has taken the art of the screaming fit to a whole new level, and after a solid bout on Thurs. a.m., I couldn't take it anymore. I walked into the bathroom, sat on the edge of the tub and let it go. So we all cried it out together for a few minutes, and then we moved on. We didn't have any playdates planned for our first week at home - and this is the first time I can say that just the three of us have spent such an intensive block of time together.
And, for the first time in my life, I feel what I can only describe as being more at peace with myself than I ever have been before. Perhaps that means that I've finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up... a mom. Makes me wonder what I was doing bothering with all the other stuff when it was right there in front of me the whole time.
I think this summer is going to be an Adventures in St. Paul kind of summer. I've forgotten how much I really love this city. I can't wait to explore it with my girls.
A recap (for posterity's sake) of my first week as a SAHM, btw... it was pretty much 72 and sunny every single day:
Monday - We met up with Daddy over his lunch break for a jog/walk on the river path, and a picnic lunch.
Tuesday - Library day, followed by lunch on the patio in the backyard, and a full afternoon of working/playing in the yard. No naps!
Wednesday - We visited Betty's house in the a.m.. and lunched outside, again.
Thursday - Checked out the playground at Harriet Island. Headed downtown for a picnic lunch date with Daddy in Mears Park.
Friday - the girls headed off to Grandma/Grandpa Dalys' house for the day while Pat and I (finally) painted their rooms. Pink for Eve, and purple for Jo. Eve, upon seeing her room when she returned, said - "it's so very PINK!" And she's right. Pepto Bismol comes to my mind, but it's growing on me. And Josie is now in an official "big girl" bed. And I'm up all night worrying about the distance she has to fall to the floor. :)
There's so much more. Everyday I wish I had some way to begin every blog post that flashes in my mind. But I've got my hands full, for the time being.
Exhausted, but alive.
There was a lot of laughter, and a few tears, I won't lie. Thursday was the toughest day - Eve has taken the art of the screaming fit to a whole new level, and after a solid bout on Thurs. a.m., I couldn't take it anymore. I walked into the bathroom, sat on the edge of the tub and let it go. So we all cried it out together for a few minutes, and then we moved on. We didn't have any playdates planned for our first week at home - and this is the first time I can say that just the three of us have spent such an intensive block of time together.
And, for the first time in my life, I feel what I can only describe as being more at peace with myself than I ever have been before. Perhaps that means that I've finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up... a mom. Makes me wonder what I was doing bothering with all the other stuff when it was right there in front of me the whole time.
I think this summer is going to be an Adventures in St. Paul kind of summer. I've forgotten how much I really love this city. I can't wait to explore it with my girls.
A recap (for posterity's sake) of my first week as a SAHM, btw... it was pretty much 72 and sunny every single day:
Monday - We met up with Daddy over his lunch break for a jog/walk on the river path, and a picnic lunch.
Tuesday - Library day, followed by lunch on the patio in the backyard, and a full afternoon of working/playing in the yard. No naps!
Wednesday - We visited Betty's house in the a.m.. and lunched outside, again.
Thursday - Checked out the playground at Harriet Island. Headed downtown for a picnic lunch date with Daddy in Mears Park.
Friday - the girls headed off to Grandma/Grandpa Dalys' house for the day while Pat and I (finally) painted their rooms. Pink for Eve, and purple for Jo. Eve, upon seeing her room when she returned, said - "it's so very PINK!" And she's right. Pepto Bismol comes to my mind, but it's growing on me. And Josie is now in an official "big girl" bed. And I'm up all night worrying about the distance she has to fall to the floor. :)
There's so much more. Everyday I wish I had some way to begin every blog post that flashes in my mind. But I've got my hands full, for the time being.
Who do I think I am?
Friday, May 29, 2009
You see, that's the crux of the problem, right there. I haven't a clue.
But as I look back at my life thus far, perhaps it turns out that I am being exactly who I am supposed to be.
Even though the words I'd often use to describe myself are the likes of "wishy-washy". "Non-committal."
I've never known what I want to be when I grow up, or been so driven or passionate about something that I've been consumed, or could even formulate a coherent response when someone asks, "what motivates me."*
Add another descriptor to the list: "unmotivated".
*This question actually was posed to me recently, and I've been thinking a lot about it ever since. And I still don't have an answer. Shit.
And now here I sit, kids napping. Laundry washing. Sun shining. On my very first day of voluntary unemployment. Wondering. Have I arrived at where I am supposed to be - is this the place? And why is it so covered in cat hair?
I haven't a clue. But I sure hope so. (The arrived part - not the cat hair part.) It's been an uneventful day thus far, except for the unexpected arrival of a bottle of liquor at my front door, handed to me with a card (that made me bawl, by the way - seems to be a recurring theme in my life the last couple of days) a hug from Mama Meg. All, unquestionably, precious gifts.
And the girls? you may ask, on this first day on the new path in our lives? They're fine. Josie just awoke mid-nap, and yelled out for Betty. (Insert a dab of guilt and a dollop of misgivings right about here.) I went in to her room, and she clearly wasn't ready to be awake. Her emotions are riding pretty close to the skin the last couple of days, and this nap, hopefully, will help calm the drama. Eve has been, thus far, equal parts sweet and evil. And I say that with the utmost love and affection I can muster after she put all cat's food in his water dish, jumped off the back of couch (again) and pinched her sister more times than I can count.
We've done a little playing and a little cleaning and a little snuggling today. And now I think I'll press the repeat button, and think some more about how my unmotivated, wishy-washy, non-committal ways have served me pretty darn well so far.
But as I look back at my life thus far, perhaps it turns out that I am being exactly who I am supposed to be.
Even though the words I'd often use to describe myself are the likes of "wishy-washy". "Non-committal."
I've never known what I want to be when I grow up, or been so driven or passionate about something that I've been consumed, or could even formulate a coherent response when someone asks, "what motivates me."*
Add another descriptor to the list: "unmotivated".
*This question actually was posed to me recently, and I've been thinking a lot about it ever since. And I still don't have an answer. Shit.
And now here I sit, kids napping. Laundry washing. Sun shining. On my very first day of voluntary unemployment. Wondering. Have I arrived at where I am supposed to be - is this the place? And why is it so covered in cat hair?
I haven't a clue. But I sure hope so. (The arrived part - not the cat hair part.) It's been an uneventful day thus far, except for the unexpected arrival of a bottle of liquor at my front door, handed to me with a card (that made me bawl, by the way - seems to be a recurring theme in my life the last couple of days) a hug from Mama Meg. All, unquestionably, precious gifts.
And the girls? you may ask, on this first day on the new path in our lives? They're fine. Josie just awoke mid-nap, and yelled out for Betty. (Insert a dab of guilt and a dollop of misgivings right about here.) I went in to her room, and she clearly wasn't ready to be awake. Her emotions are riding pretty close to the skin the last couple of days, and this nap, hopefully, will help calm the drama. Eve has been, thus far, equal parts sweet and evil. And I say that with the utmost love and affection I can muster after she put all cat's food in his water dish, jumped off the back of couch (again) and pinched her sister more times than I can count.
We've done a little playing and a little cleaning and a little snuggling today. And now I think I'll press the repeat button, and think some more about how my unmotivated, wishy-washy, non-committal ways have served me pretty darn well so far.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
I have to see if this actually works. I'm posting from my phone... those young kids got nothin on me...
Ch-ch-ch-changes.
Minnesota Life has treated me well. They are a solid company, and I have made countless, solid friendships. I've given them 9 years, and now, it's time for something new.
Today, I gave my notice. May 28th will be my last day. I don't think I realized how... stressed, and emotional I was over this decision. I'm beyond wiped out tonight. I had to tell Betty, our daycare provider of 4 years, almost to the day, this morning that the girls wouldn't be coming to her house anymore - at least in the same capacity that they have been. Then I had to tell my manager, and my team. Don't get me wrong, everyone has been great, and so supportive. But it's a big change. A scary change... an exciting change. I still can't believe I'm going to do it. I've talked about it, I've thought about it, and now it's time to do it.
So... who wants to play with us this summer? :)
Today, I gave my notice. May 28th will be my last day. I don't think I realized how... stressed, and emotional I was over this decision. I'm beyond wiped out tonight. I had to tell Betty, our daycare provider of 4 years, almost to the day, this morning that the girls wouldn't be coming to her house anymore - at least in the same capacity that they have been. Then I had to tell my manager, and my team. Don't get me wrong, everyone has been great, and so supportive. But it's a big change. A scary change... an exciting change. I still can't believe I'm going to do it. I've talked about it, I've thought about it, and now it's time to do it.
So... who wants to play with us this summer? :)
Houston, we have a problem.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Internet. I'm gonna type something I never thought I'd... see myself write.
My daughter is an ass-grabber.
It's happened before, and it happened again, today, and I'm not sure what exactly we're going to do about it. Pat had Eve at Target with him this morning, and they were at the checkout. He turned to check on her, and there she was, curiously, ahem, rubbing the (and this is his description, not mine) tightly-jeaned, ample behind of a woman near them in line. Mumbling an apology, and sporting a red face, Pat grabbed Evie's hand and issued a stern warning. She's exhibited her fondness for fondling a couple of times before in public... and good lord. Do I seriously have to deal with this, or, please, tell me it's just going to go away. Please. 'Cuz I hardly have time to keep up with the laundry and the dishes and the potty-training, and am not exactly sure where in our schedules we're going to find time for an intervention of this sort.
But, on a lighter note, if this is the biggest obstacle I have to blog about right now, then I suppose things in our life aren't really all that bad, are they? For this, considering some of the things some of my dearest friends are dealing with right now, I should be, and am, extremely grateful.
Ass-grabbing aside, Eve is an absolute doll. She's wicked sweet and funny and talkative and strong-willed right now, and pushes us to the edge of sanity and hilarity on a daily basis. She packs quite a punch in a teeny-tiny package, and can still wear the majority of her clothes from last summer. She's currently midway through a swimming class, and absolutely loves it. She can't get enough of jumping in the water, and begs for more. She struggles to free herself from my grip, and actually asks to be dunked under the water. We're thinking it may be wise to just put her in a life preserver during every waking moment... because she truly has no fear, which, in turn, puts a whole lotta fear in us.
And my Josie. She is a sponge. She's inquisitive, and so eager to learn. She's showing a talent for numbers, and was even adding today - much to my amazement. I've never had a four-year-old before... this is all so new and overwhelming, and so fun. She's very watchful, and asks questions until there seemingly aren't any more questions to ask... until she thinks about it long enough to find another. She'll stay outside all day if we let her, and loves to do anything and everything to help someone. Yardwork, cleaning house, shopping, putting away laundry... she'll find a way to help, and truly is very helpful. She's been growing her hair out for the past year, after she saw a show about kids with cancer, and asked tons of questions, and agreed that she wanted to help them and give her hair to a little girl who doesn't have any. We've been talking about it, and now... it seems that she's having a bit of an internal struggle with vanity, as she's grown quite attached to her long hair, and braids, and ponytails... so we'll have to see if she'll make the decision to part with it when the time comes. She's now enrolled in two preschool programs, both of which we're pleased with. One is a charter school, three full days a week, and the other is through the St. Paul public schools' four-year-old program, and would be five days a week, either 2 1/2 hours in the morning or afternoon. We've got some logistics to figure out, and will make a decision this summer which she'll end up attending.
Oh, there is so much more. We just had a lovely, full weekend with both sides of our family. And now we're tired. So I'll leave you, for now, but do hope to try to check in more often than I have been lately.
My daughter is an ass-grabber.
It's happened before, and it happened again, today, and I'm not sure what exactly we're going to do about it. Pat had Eve at Target with him this morning, and they were at the checkout. He turned to check on her, and there she was, curiously, ahem, rubbing the (and this is his description, not mine) tightly-jeaned, ample behind of a woman near them in line. Mumbling an apology, and sporting a red face, Pat grabbed Evie's hand and issued a stern warning. She's exhibited her fondness for fondling a couple of times before in public... and good lord. Do I seriously have to deal with this, or, please, tell me it's just going to go away. Please. 'Cuz I hardly have time to keep up with the laundry and the dishes and the potty-training, and am not exactly sure where in our schedules we're going to find time for an intervention of this sort.
But, on a lighter note, if this is the biggest obstacle I have to blog about right now, then I suppose things in our life aren't really all that bad, are they? For this, considering some of the things some of my dearest friends are dealing with right now, I should be, and am, extremely grateful.
Ass-grabbing aside, Eve is an absolute doll. She's wicked sweet and funny and talkative and strong-willed right now, and pushes us to the edge of sanity and hilarity on a daily basis. She packs quite a punch in a teeny-tiny package, and can still wear the majority of her clothes from last summer. She's currently midway through a swimming class, and absolutely loves it. She can't get enough of jumping in the water, and begs for more. She struggles to free herself from my grip, and actually asks to be dunked under the water. We're thinking it may be wise to just put her in a life preserver during every waking moment... because she truly has no fear, which, in turn, puts a whole lotta fear in us.
And my Josie. She is a sponge. She's inquisitive, and so eager to learn. She's showing a talent for numbers, and was even adding today - much to my amazement. I've never had a four-year-old before... this is all so new and overwhelming, and so fun. She's very watchful, and asks questions until there seemingly aren't any more questions to ask... until she thinks about it long enough to find another. She'll stay outside all day if we let her, and loves to do anything and everything to help someone. Yardwork, cleaning house, shopping, putting away laundry... she'll find a way to help, and truly is very helpful. She's been growing her hair out for the past year, after she saw a show about kids with cancer, and asked tons of questions, and agreed that she wanted to help them and give her hair to a little girl who doesn't have any. We've been talking about it, and now... it seems that she's having a bit of an internal struggle with vanity, as she's grown quite attached to her long hair, and braids, and ponytails... so we'll have to see if she'll make the decision to part with it when the time comes. She's now enrolled in two preschool programs, both of which we're pleased with. One is a charter school, three full days a week, and the other is through the St. Paul public schools' four-year-old program, and would be five days a week, either 2 1/2 hours in the morning or afternoon. We've got some logistics to figure out, and will make a decision this summer which she'll end up attending.
Oh, there is so much more. We just had a lovely, full weekend with both sides of our family. And now we're tired. So I'll leave you, for now, but do hope to try to check in more often than I have been lately.
Do you think Oprah will mind if I rub her cheek?
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
It looks like it would be really soft. I'm sure she wouldn't mind, right? I'll let you know on Monday if my suspicions are confirmed or not.
Chicago - here we come. Watch. Out. 6 married women in a minivan, newly-purchased undergarments in tow. Yahoo!
Chicago - here we come. Watch. Out. 6 married women in a minivan, newly-purchased undergarments in tow. Yahoo!
Oops. He did it again.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
I was so proud of myself. I was ahead of the game, for once, and had already purchased goodies for the girls’ Easter baskets, along with candy to fill the plastic eggs to be hidden at my mom’s this weekend. And, I was feeling particularly clever having purchased super cute little pink and purple tote-type bags for their baskets, which can actually be used for something following Easter morning, instead of merely contributing to the clutter in my already cluttered basement. Granted, the totes will probably be used by my daughters to carry around their OWN, well, clutter, but I digress.
So last night we arrive home in our usual car-full-of-circus-clowns style, and I high-tail it upstairs to change into workout clothes. And what do I find but a gigantic puddle of dog vomit on our bedroom floor. If you’ve ever seen our bedroom, you may be wondering how exactly I’d ever be able to distinguish between the carpet and a pile of dog vomit, and you’d actually be pondering a very valid question. Again, I digress. But there was vomit. And I was just a bit peeved that I was now going to have to postpone my planned workout in order to, somehow, remove the vomit from the vomit-colored carpet. Don’t get me wrong, I was concerned about why the dog had thrown up such copious amounts of vomit, but at this point, newly-discovered, I was more pissed than concerned.
I cleaned it up. And cast angry glares in Brewster’s general direction.
And we proceeded with our evening ritual: the girls made messes while simultaneously begging for milk, a movie, a board game and a snack, Pat started supper, and I followed the girls around in a half-hearted attempt to get them to clean up their messes and fulfill their every wish. Okay – maybe I turned on the computer and browsed the internet for a while, too, but that’s not what this is all about, so don’t get all judge-y. Something needed my attention in the basement, and that’s when the giant mess on the rec room floor grabbed my attention. For a moment, I couldn’t recognize what the mess was. Then, in a flash, it all came to me. Easter basket goodies, totes, AND EMPTY CANDY BAGS. Torn and strewn about, with NO trace of candy remaining. Shitballs. Okay – maybe it’s not a word, Word, with your fancy little red underline – but it sure as heck should be. I had put the goodies ON a shelf IN a closet IN the basement. (Whoa – that sentence was highly reminiscent of one of the girls’ fav books of the moment, “Go Dog Go.” Three dogs, in a house, on a boat, in the water!)
I can only assume that the bag fell OFF the shelf, IN the closet, IN the basement, and the dog, being the pain in the ass that he is, since he’s a DOG, smelled the candy, and wrangled the sliding closet doors opens to get to it. And then had a sugar feast, and licked the bags clean, then, deciding that wasn’t enough, proceeded to tear one of Jo’s gifts to shreds. My pissed-offedness dramatically skyrocketed at this point, but only for a moment until I remembered that one of the bags of candy, that was entirely gone, was M&Ms. Dogs and chocolate - hmm. Now insert concern. And frantic internet searches for “dogs and chocolate.” Of course, I knew this to be a dangerous combo… but we’ve had Brewster for 6 years, and this dog has eaten, well, A LOT OF STUFF, and I didn’t truly know how much chocolate was enough for REAL concern. I figured an entire bag of M&Ms probably warranted sufficient concern. The sites I was finding highlighted vomiting, diarrhea, frequent excessive thirst and urination, restlessness, hyperactivity (have they met our dog, seriously, how am I supposed to distinguish this as anything but normal?) as possible signs of danger – and all this before the muscle convulsions and coma set in, followed by death.
So now I had to convince Pat that this situation warranted some sort of action on his part, and he put a call in to my old hometown vet, who, by being leaps and bounds cheaper than vets here in the Cities, has now become our vet. And when you have a dog that has a chronic ear infection issue, and likes to consume paper products which block the digestive tract and result in $175 vet consultation fees only for the aforementioned dog to throw up the paper plate he earlier consumed without our knowledge, the issue of money becomes a very important one. (By the way… how frickin’ ridiculous is it that a “poison control” hotline exists for animals, but you get charged $50 for a consultation?? Ri-dicu-lous.) The vet advised us (via FREE phone calls) that it was a good thing he (the dog, not the vet) had already thrown up, and to feed him (the dog, not the vet) some milk and bread to further aide in absorption of the bad stuff into his blood stream (called theobromine, in case you were wondering.) Then, we needed to administer (via an empty beer bottle – which we just happened to have! - to help make sure it got down his throat) some hydrogen peroxide to induce further vomiting.
AND, this is the fun part, folks, it is sometimes necessary to massage the dog’s stomach or perform something similar to the Heimlich maneuver on the dog to help encourage the vomiting. Well, I tell you what, I had already cleaned up dog goo, and decided Pat was going to be the one all over this vomit-inducing/Heimlich-maneuvering procedure. And, let’s just say, if you happened to have a vantage point of our backyard last night, you probably caught quite a show.
So, another disaster averted, and all seems to be well. And really, he is a very sweet dog – despite all my bitching and complaining. Perhaps I’d rather do without some of the vomiting and paper-plate-consuming and Desitin-eating and slipper-chewing and what have you, but, he’s one of us, for better or worse.
Oh – and the rest of us are doing just fine, too. :)
So last night we arrive home in our usual car-full-of-circus-clowns style, and I high-tail it upstairs to change into workout clothes. And what do I find but a gigantic puddle of dog vomit on our bedroom floor. If you’ve ever seen our bedroom, you may be wondering how exactly I’d ever be able to distinguish between the carpet and a pile of dog vomit, and you’d actually be pondering a very valid question. Again, I digress. But there was vomit. And I was just a bit peeved that I was now going to have to postpone my planned workout in order to, somehow, remove the vomit from the vomit-colored carpet. Don’t get me wrong, I was concerned about why the dog had thrown up such copious amounts of vomit, but at this point, newly-discovered, I was more pissed than concerned.
I cleaned it up. And cast angry glares in Brewster’s general direction.
And we proceeded with our evening ritual: the girls made messes while simultaneously begging for milk, a movie, a board game and a snack, Pat started supper, and I followed the girls around in a half-hearted attempt to get them to clean up their messes and fulfill their every wish. Okay – maybe I turned on the computer and browsed the internet for a while, too, but that’s not what this is all about, so don’t get all judge-y. Something needed my attention in the basement, and that’s when the giant mess on the rec room floor grabbed my attention. For a moment, I couldn’t recognize what the mess was. Then, in a flash, it all came to me. Easter basket goodies, totes, AND EMPTY CANDY BAGS. Torn and strewn about, with NO trace of candy remaining. Shitballs. Okay – maybe it’s not a word, Word, with your fancy little red underline – but it sure as heck should be. I had put the goodies ON a shelf IN a closet IN the basement. (Whoa – that sentence was highly reminiscent of one of the girls’ fav books of the moment, “Go Dog Go.” Three dogs, in a house, on a boat, in the water!)
I can only assume that the bag fell OFF the shelf, IN the closet, IN the basement, and the dog, being the pain in the ass that he is, since he’s a DOG, smelled the candy, and wrangled the sliding closet doors opens to get to it. And then had a sugar feast, and licked the bags clean, then, deciding that wasn’t enough, proceeded to tear one of Jo’s gifts to shreds. My pissed-offedness dramatically skyrocketed at this point, but only for a moment until I remembered that one of the bags of candy, that was entirely gone, was M&Ms. Dogs and chocolate - hmm. Now insert concern. And frantic internet searches for “dogs and chocolate.” Of course, I knew this to be a dangerous combo… but we’ve had Brewster for 6 years, and this dog has eaten, well, A LOT OF STUFF, and I didn’t truly know how much chocolate was enough for REAL concern. I figured an entire bag of M&Ms probably warranted sufficient concern. The sites I was finding highlighted vomiting, diarrhea, frequent excessive thirst and urination, restlessness, hyperactivity (have they met our dog, seriously, how am I supposed to distinguish this as anything but normal?) as possible signs of danger – and all this before the muscle convulsions and coma set in, followed by death.
So now I had to convince Pat that this situation warranted some sort of action on his part, and he put a call in to my old hometown vet, who, by being leaps and bounds cheaper than vets here in the Cities, has now become our vet. And when you have a dog that has a chronic ear infection issue, and likes to consume paper products which block the digestive tract and result in $175 vet consultation fees only for the aforementioned dog to throw up the paper plate he earlier consumed without our knowledge, the issue of money becomes a very important one. (By the way… how frickin’ ridiculous is it that a “poison control” hotline exists for animals, but you get charged $50 for a consultation?? Ri-dicu-lous.) The vet advised us (via FREE phone calls) that it was a good thing he (the dog, not the vet) had already thrown up, and to feed him (the dog, not the vet) some milk and bread to further aide in absorption of the bad stuff into his blood stream (called theobromine, in case you were wondering.) Then, we needed to administer (via an empty beer bottle – which we just happened to have! - to help make sure it got down his throat) some hydrogen peroxide to induce further vomiting.
AND, this is the fun part, folks, it is sometimes necessary to massage the dog’s stomach or perform something similar to the Heimlich maneuver on the dog to help encourage the vomiting. Well, I tell you what, I had already cleaned up dog goo, and decided Pat was going to be the one all over this vomit-inducing/Heimlich-maneuvering procedure. And, let’s just say, if you happened to have a vantage point of our backyard last night, you probably caught quite a show.
So, another disaster averted, and all seems to be well. And really, he is a very sweet dog – despite all my bitching and complaining. Perhaps I’d rather do without some of the vomiting and paper-plate-consuming and Desitin-eating and slipper-chewing and what have you, but, he’s one of us, for better or worse.
Oh – and the rest of us are doing just fine, too. :)
Busted.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
As I get older, the size of the bag I carry around just keeps getting bigger and bigger. I was rummaging through it last night searching for something, and found a bunch of notes with funny kid sayings and little updates I wanted to remember… so I thought I’d better get them all jotted down somewhere not in danger of getting lost forever. So here you go, in no particular order…
Funny things Evie has said over last couple of months:
“Hey! We’re just hangin’ out!”
Eve, what are you doing in the bathroom? “I just washing my hands!” Why? “I need to wash the monster down the drain. He’s standing right there.”
I gently reminded Eve that she should turn off the water when not using it, so as not to waste it. I then needed to use the bathroom, and Eve remained – to keep me company. I, um, really needed to go… and Eve made the following observation… “Mommy – you’re wasting your pee-pee.”
There is no rushing Eve... which means our mornings are really interesting. And not frustrating, at all. After about 20 minutes of constant reminders to put on her coat, put on her boots, stop reading that book, get out of the laundry basket, and put on your coat already… we were finally headed out the door. When I was gathering up my bag and miscellaneous stuff… Eve yells from the doorway - “Alright, Mommy – Hup-two-three… let’s go! Hurry… we’re going to be LATE!”
It took me a while to figure out one night before bed that when Eve was talking about the “long-n-slower,” she was referring to the “jogging stroller.”
She constantly calls us a “silly goose.”
She called Daddy back in her room one night to ask him “what is THIS?” She was touching her eyebrow, so he told her that’s what it was. She replied,”I take it off, now.”
My laptop is “Mommy’s cuper.”
Before Christmas, we set up our nativity scene. It was tough thing to ask Eve to find the willpower not to touch and play with the pieces. Each morning, she’d go look at it and say “Good morning, Baby Jesus!” Baby Jesus is in a blanket and basket – and she claimed it was “his carseat.” When we’d tell her that his mommy was Mary, she’d ask, “but, where is her little lamb?”
I may have shared this one, already. I forget what I was explaining to Eve, but apparently she didn’t care for my tone… and told me, “I don’t want to hear it from you, Mommy.”
After we went to see Santa in December, Eve told us she wanted a reindeer for Christmas. But we didn’t need to worry, because she wanted “not a lot… just ONE.”
Eve’s response to just about anything negative is “it’s okay, Mommy. That happens.” Not such a great reply to things like hitting her sister, or pooping in her underwear.
Eve has “nightmares.” We frequently wake up and hear her yelling things in her sleep like, “Mommy get me out!!” or “I pursh the button!” or “NO, Josie – I do it!!”
She thinks it’s funny to tell us to “kiss her,” then after we do, she “wipes off” the kiss, and giggles and giggles.
We attended Ryan’s graduation from Mankato State in December, and someone used an air horn during the presentation of diplomas. Eve’s eyes got really big… and she smirked and said, not quietly – mind you, “Mommy TOOTED!” A little later during the ceremony, she started singing, again – not quietly, “Santa Claus is Coming to Town…”
If Eve catches someone doing something they weren’t supposed to be… she’ll smirk and tell them they are “BUSTED!”
“Eww. It’s tooty in here.” If you know my husband, I think that one is self-explanatory.
And from Josie…
“I’m a professional, Mommy. Don’t try this at home.”
“Daddy, did you know Mommy is on the naughty list? She tooted on Santa’s lap.”
With pouty lips, “Whatchu talkin’ ‘bout, Willis?”
Josie likes to “surprise” us, and will get herself dressed in her jammies or in her outfit for the day all by herself. If she needs help getting an arm out of a sleeve, or her head through the neck hole, she’ll ask for help, but will tell us “don’t look, it’s going to be a surprise!”
On the way to a play date at Lucy’s house, “That was so nice of God. He put the Gronaus so close to us!”
Funny things Evie has said over last couple of months:
“Hey! We’re just hangin’ out!”
Eve, what are you doing in the bathroom? “I just washing my hands!” Why? “I need to wash the monster down the drain. He’s standing right there.”
I gently reminded Eve that she should turn off the water when not using it, so as not to waste it. I then needed to use the bathroom, and Eve remained – to keep me company. I, um, really needed to go… and Eve made the following observation… “Mommy – you’re wasting your pee-pee.”
There is no rushing Eve... which means our mornings are really interesting. And not frustrating, at all. After about 20 minutes of constant reminders to put on her coat, put on her boots, stop reading that book, get out of the laundry basket, and put on your coat already… we were finally headed out the door. When I was gathering up my bag and miscellaneous stuff… Eve yells from the doorway - “Alright, Mommy – Hup-two-three… let’s go! Hurry… we’re going to be LATE!”
It took me a while to figure out one night before bed that when Eve was talking about the “long-n-slower,” she was referring to the “jogging stroller.”
She constantly calls us a “silly goose.”
She called Daddy back in her room one night to ask him “what is THIS?” She was touching her eyebrow, so he told her that’s what it was. She replied,”I take it off, now.”
My laptop is “Mommy’s cuper.”
Before Christmas, we set up our nativity scene. It was tough thing to ask Eve to find the willpower not to touch and play with the pieces. Each morning, she’d go look at it and say “Good morning, Baby Jesus!” Baby Jesus is in a blanket and basket – and she claimed it was “his carseat.” When we’d tell her that his mommy was Mary, she’d ask, “but, where is her little lamb?”
I may have shared this one, already. I forget what I was explaining to Eve, but apparently she didn’t care for my tone… and told me, “I don’t want to hear it from you, Mommy.”
After we went to see Santa in December, Eve told us she wanted a reindeer for Christmas. But we didn’t need to worry, because she wanted “not a lot… just ONE.”
Eve’s response to just about anything negative is “it’s okay, Mommy. That happens.” Not such a great reply to things like hitting her sister, or pooping in her underwear.
Eve has “nightmares.” We frequently wake up and hear her yelling things in her sleep like, “Mommy get me out!!” or “I pursh the button!” or “NO, Josie – I do it!!”
She thinks it’s funny to tell us to “kiss her,” then after we do, she “wipes off” the kiss, and giggles and giggles.
We attended Ryan’s graduation from Mankato State in December, and someone used an air horn during the presentation of diplomas. Eve’s eyes got really big… and she smirked and said, not quietly – mind you, “Mommy TOOTED!” A little later during the ceremony, she started singing, again – not quietly, “Santa Claus is Coming to Town…”
If Eve catches someone doing something they weren’t supposed to be… she’ll smirk and tell them they are “BUSTED!”
“Eww. It’s tooty in here.” If you know my husband, I think that one is self-explanatory.
And from Josie…
“I’m a professional, Mommy. Don’t try this at home.”
“Daddy, did you know Mommy is on the naughty list? She tooted on Santa’s lap.”
With pouty lips, “Whatchu talkin’ ‘bout, Willis?”
Josie likes to “surprise” us, and will get herself dressed in her jammies or in her outfit for the day all by herself. If she needs help getting an arm out of a sleeve, or her head through the neck hole, she’ll ask for help, but will tell us “don’t look, it’s going to be a surprise!”
On the way to a play date at Lucy’s house, “That was so nice of God. He put the Gronaus so close to us!”
Does that make you so happy?
Thursday, February 19, 2009
The doldrums of February are upon us, and hopefully, we’re experiencing the last cold snap of the season. I have to keep reminding myself that I choose to live here, I choose to live here, I choose to live here. The question “when will it be spring?” is a common one at our house, because spring brings the magic of going to the park, going for walks, and not having to be mindful of the piles of dog poo hiding in the snow in the backyard.
We had our annual group luncheon at work today, and this year the planners purchased jerseys and hats for each associate with the number 4 – to signify our division’s move into the 4th spot in the rankings of providers of group life insurance in the nation. We had a pretty phenomenal year being able to surpass our sales goal in this tough economic environment. I’m extremely grateful and aware of how fortunate I am to work for a company that can provide all of its associates with a 5.5% distribution into our performance share plans, when so many are struggling to keep and/or find a job in this market. Anyway – our executive vice-president was, as would be expected, excited to celebrate our success in 2008 today. He was sporting his hat and jersey with pride, and was walking around telling everyone to “suit up!” For some reason, it really cracked up. Maybe you need to know him to appreciate it… let’s just say that the phrase “suit up” sounds a bit foreign coming from his mouth. Almost as comedic as the fact that our senior vice-president not only knows who Flavor Flav is, but has watched his reality show. These are gentlemen who have worked for the company for 40+ and 35+ years, respectively – just to give you an idea of their ages.
I think it’s time for some kid updates. Let’s see. We’re getting close to the deadline for making a decision regarding where Josie will be going to preschool in the fall. Applications are due soon… and we’re currently making the rounds of public school tours. We’ll submit our application into the pool for St. Paul’s 4-year-old program, but aren’t entirely convinced that’s where we truly want her – even if somehow, we’re actually able to get in via the lottery system they have to use due to high demand. We’re touring a tuition-free charter school option tomorrow morning, and if that one doesn’t seem like a good fit for us, either, we’ll probably end up putting her in a private program. I’m anxious for the decision to be made, as is Josie. I think she’s a little confused by all the tours, and just wants to know when she gets to go to school, already. She’s soaking up everything around her, and has shown a great interest in numbers. She’s pretty good at writing all her numbers, but hasn’t, yet, been as interested in writing letters. Although she is very curious about what every word starts with, and has begun to be able to tell me what sounds different letters make and has been able to recognize all the letters for quite some time now. I’ve gotten her a bunch of “school books” to help her with her small motor skills, and she loves to play “school” at home at night while dinner is cooking.
Josie finished up ice skating lessons a couple of weeks ago, and did really well. Pat said he sees a really competitive edge in her already (which I’m a little torn about – is that a good thing, or not? How do we foster healthy competition without pushing too far?) as she loved the part of the lessons where the kids raced one another from one side of the ice to the other. She’d make it and quickly turn to see who she had “beaten” and then smirk with satisfaction when she realized she was one of the fastest. But the thing that I love about her (well, one of the many!) is that she’s already a good sport, and doesn’t taunt… well, anyone besides her sister, at least. So far, she’s tried soccer and swimming, and gymnastics and ice skating lessons. Now I think we’ll have her take a dance class, next – from a very reputable and respected teacher I conveniently happen to know quite well.
We’ve had an action-packed week with the excitement of Patrick traveling for work, (“why did the airplane take daddy away?”, “is daddy still in the little rock?”, “when will the airplane bring daddy home?”) then Josie throwing up at daycare the same day that he left, and me readying myself mentally for dealing with a bout of the flu, alone with the girls. She didn’t throw up again, but she started complaining of intense ear pain the next day. I got her into urgent care – and she has a double ear infection. And she couldn’t be more thrilled! Because that means she gets to take medicine! And what better thing in the world is there than medicine?! It’s pink! And yummy! I see great potential for hypochondria in her future.
I overheard a couple of conversations in the kitchen this morning between Eve and Josie while I was getting ready in the bathroom, and Patrick was in the basement feeding the pets.
Eve: “Josie…”
Jo: “What?” (said with a slightly annoyed tone.)
E: “Did you get a owie?” (this is in reference to the fact that Jo slipped and slid down the stairs leading to our bedroom, on her belly and got rug burn on her tummy as a result)
J: with a dramatic sigh, “Yes. On my tummy. I have a band aid.”
E: “Ooohhhhh. I’m so sorry. Oooohhhh. It will be okay. Was there blood?”
Sidenote – blood is the greatest fascination in the world right now. The moment anyone says “ouch”, the immediate question to follow is “is there BLOOD??”
J: “No. No blood. But you can’t take off my band aid. (an added statement for Eve’s benefit since Jo still holds a grudge over the fact that her sister removed a band aid from her knee once in the bathtub, like 2 years ago…) It has to stay on for a long, long time. Like, ‘til we’re old.” (Which in Josie’s mind, is probably like my age, since she asked me on my birthday if I was going to die soon?)
Followed by the following conversation:
E: “Josie! I’m not saying ‘na na na nah’ to you!”
J: “Yes – I know that, Evie.”
E: “Does that make you so happy?”
And in Evie news… we’re potty training! Somewhat successfully… and I have to keep reminding myself that she is a very different kid than Josie. A couple of weeks ago we were at daycare pickup and found out that she had peed in the potty for the first time that day. She had been sitting and “trying” for a while, but without any results. So we made a very big deal about what a big girl she was and what a good job she was doing… and honestly, Betty has been putting in a lot more effort than we have. Or, I guess I should say, than I have. She battles me quite a bit, and I’m going have to find a lot more patience from somewhere deep down inside as she will go for Daddy and Betty much better than she will for me. She’s using it as a stalling technique before bed, but has been “putting pee-pee” in the toilet pretty regularly. I’m still not convinced she’s entirely ready as she’s still having very wet diapers during naps and at night… but we’re starting down the path to being diaper-free… Amen!
Eve loves to watch movies, and loves music of any kind. She’s constantly walking around the house singing songs, and likes it when I start to sing a song, then let her finish the last word or phrase of a line. She dances to any music she hears, and doesn’t even get discouraged too much when her sister tells her that “jumping’s not dancing, Evie.” We still rock with Eve for a few minutes every night while we talk and cuddle before bed and the other night Pat was snuggling with her and said, “Eve, I love you.” To which she responded sweetly, “oh, Daddy… I love Mommy, too.” We say the standard “bless us oh Lord” prayer before dinner each night and Eve very nicely folds her hands and prays with us. We finish up with the sign of the cross and “Amen”… to which Eve adds excitedly every time, “Let’s eat!” She’s as sweet as she is stubborn, which makes life around our house quite the roller coaster ride. She looked up at me at dinner the other night and said, after I had scolded her about something, and told me, “Mommy. You’re a cutie-pie.”
We had our annual group luncheon at work today, and this year the planners purchased jerseys and hats for each associate with the number 4 – to signify our division’s move into the 4th spot in the rankings of providers of group life insurance in the nation. We had a pretty phenomenal year being able to surpass our sales goal in this tough economic environment. I’m extremely grateful and aware of how fortunate I am to work for a company that can provide all of its associates with a 5.5% distribution into our performance share plans, when so many are struggling to keep and/or find a job in this market. Anyway – our executive vice-president was, as would be expected, excited to celebrate our success in 2008 today. He was sporting his hat and jersey with pride, and was walking around telling everyone to “suit up!” For some reason, it really cracked up. Maybe you need to know him to appreciate it… let’s just say that the phrase “suit up” sounds a bit foreign coming from his mouth. Almost as comedic as the fact that our senior vice-president not only knows who Flavor Flav is, but has watched his reality show. These are gentlemen who have worked for the company for 40+ and 35+ years, respectively – just to give you an idea of their ages.
I think it’s time for some kid updates. Let’s see. We’re getting close to the deadline for making a decision regarding where Josie will be going to preschool in the fall. Applications are due soon… and we’re currently making the rounds of public school tours. We’ll submit our application into the pool for St. Paul’s 4-year-old program, but aren’t entirely convinced that’s where we truly want her – even if somehow, we’re actually able to get in via the lottery system they have to use due to high demand. We’re touring a tuition-free charter school option tomorrow morning, and if that one doesn’t seem like a good fit for us, either, we’ll probably end up putting her in a private program. I’m anxious for the decision to be made, as is Josie. I think she’s a little confused by all the tours, and just wants to know when she gets to go to school, already. She’s soaking up everything around her, and has shown a great interest in numbers. She’s pretty good at writing all her numbers, but hasn’t, yet, been as interested in writing letters. Although she is very curious about what every word starts with, and has begun to be able to tell me what sounds different letters make and has been able to recognize all the letters for quite some time now. I’ve gotten her a bunch of “school books” to help her with her small motor skills, and she loves to play “school” at home at night while dinner is cooking.
Josie finished up ice skating lessons a couple of weeks ago, and did really well. Pat said he sees a really competitive edge in her already (which I’m a little torn about – is that a good thing, or not? How do we foster healthy competition without pushing too far?) as she loved the part of the lessons where the kids raced one another from one side of the ice to the other. She’d make it and quickly turn to see who she had “beaten” and then smirk with satisfaction when she realized she was one of the fastest. But the thing that I love about her (well, one of the many!) is that she’s already a good sport, and doesn’t taunt… well, anyone besides her sister, at least. So far, she’s tried soccer and swimming, and gymnastics and ice skating lessons. Now I think we’ll have her take a dance class, next – from a very reputable and respected teacher I conveniently happen to know quite well.
We’ve had an action-packed week with the excitement of Patrick traveling for work, (“why did the airplane take daddy away?”, “is daddy still in the little rock?”, “when will the airplane bring daddy home?”) then Josie throwing up at daycare the same day that he left, and me readying myself mentally for dealing with a bout of the flu, alone with the girls. She didn’t throw up again, but she started complaining of intense ear pain the next day. I got her into urgent care – and she has a double ear infection. And she couldn’t be more thrilled! Because that means she gets to take medicine! And what better thing in the world is there than medicine?! It’s pink! And yummy! I see great potential for hypochondria in her future.
I overheard a couple of conversations in the kitchen this morning between Eve and Josie while I was getting ready in the bathroom, and Patrick was in the basement feeding the pets.
Eve: “Josie…”
Jo: “What?” (said with a slightly annoyed tone.)
E: “Did you get a owie?” (this is in reference to the fact that Jo slipped and slid down the stairs leading to our bedroom, on her belly and got rug burn on her tummy as a result)
J: with a dramatic sigh, “Yes. On my tummy. I have a band aid.”
E: “Ooohhhhh. I’m so sorry. Oooohhhh. It will be okay. Was there blood?”
Sidenote – blood is the greatest fascination in the world right now. The moment anyone says “ouch”, the immediate question to follow is “is there BLOOD??”
J: “No. No blood. But you can’t take off my band aid. (an added statement for Eve’s benefit since Jo still holds a grudge over the fact that her sister removed a band aid from her knee once in the bathtub, like 2 years ago…) It has to stay on for a long, long time. Like, ‘til we’re old.” (Which in Josie’s mind, is probably like my age, since she asked me on my birthday if I was going to die soon?)
Followed by the following conversation:
E: “Josie! I’m not saying ‘na na na nah’ to you!”
J: “Yes – I know that, Evie.”
E: “Does that make you so happy?”
And in Evie news… we’re potty training! Somewhat successfully… and I have to keep reminding myself that she is a very different kid than Josie. A couple of weeks ago we were at daycare pickup and found out that she had peed in the potty for the first time that day. She had been sitting and “trying” for a while, but without any results. So we made a very big deal about what a big girl she was and what a good job she was doing… and honestly, Betty has been putting in a lot more effort than we have. Or, I guess I should say, than I have. She battles me quite a bit, and I’m going have to find a lot more patience from somewhere deep down inside as she will go for Daddy and Betty much better than she will for me. She’s using it as a stalling technique before bed, but has been “putting pee-pee” in the toilet pretty regularly. I’m still not convinced she’s entirely ready as she’s still having very wet diapers during naps and at night… but we’re starting down the path to being diaper-free… Amen!
Eve loves to watch movies, and loves music of any kind. She’s constantly walking around the house singing songs, and likes it when I start to sing a song, then let her finish the last word or phrase of a line. She dances to any music she hears, and doesn’t even get discouraged too much when her sister tells her that “jumping’s not dancing, Evie.” We still rock with Eve for a few minutes every night while we talk and cuddle before bed and the other night Pat was snuggling with her and said, “Eve, I love you.” To which she responded sweetly, “oh, Daddy… I love Mommy, too.” We say the standard “bless us oh Lord” prayer before dinner each night and Eve very nicely folds her hands and prays with us. We finish up with the sign of the cross and “Amen”… to which Eve adds excitedly every time, “Let’s eat!” She’s as sweet as she is stubborn, which makes life around our house quite the roller coaster ride. She looked up at me at dinner the other night and said, after I had scolded her about something, and told me, “Mommy. You’re a cutie-pie.”
A long overdue picture update.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
This batch of pictures is much like the thoughts that ramble around in my head. Random, scattered and sometimes, because the settings aren't quite right... a little bit fuzzy. :)
Daddy and Josie on her 4th birthday, 1/19/09
Mommy and Jo. Happy Birthday! 1/19/09
The Birthday Recital with Lucy
Happiness is... a new tutu.
Happiness is... your sister's birthday balloons.
Happiness is... making birthday cupcakes.
Happiness is... free Wild tickets to your company's corporate suite.
Happiness is... an abundance of food... and drink... before the Wild game.
Happiness is... big hugs from Daddy.
Happiness is... building a snowman at Grandma Sue's.
Happiness is... snuggling in pajamas.
Happiness is... an apple snack during open gym playdates.
Happiness is... bowling for the first time with friends!
Happiness is... just happy.
Happiness is... dancing along with your favorite princess dvd. In fancy slippers.
Happiness is... breakfast at Grandma Sue's. And a new haircut!
Happiness is... hugging your first snowman. Brr!
Daddy and Josie on her 4th birthday, 1/19/09
Mommy and Jo. Happy Birthday! 1/19/09
The Birthday Recital with Lucy
Happiness is... a new tutu.
Happiness is... your sister's birthday balloons.
Happiness is... making birthday cupcakes.
Happiness is... free Wild tickets to your company's corporate suite.
Happiness is... finding out a bunch of your friends are also going to the Wild game the same night! Me with Sara and Dana - 1/17/09.
Happiness is... an abundance of food... and drink... before the Wild game.
Happiness is... big hugs from Daddy.
Happiness is... building a snowman at Grandma Sue's.
Happiness is... snuggling in pajamas.
Happiness is... an apple snack during open gym playdates.
Happiness is... bowling for the first time with friends!
Happiness is... just happy.
Happiness is... dancing along with your favorite princess dvd. In fancy slippers.
Happiness is... breakfast at Grandma Sue's. And a new haircut!
Happiness is... hugging your first snowman. Brr!
Happy Birthday, Josie-girl
Monday, January 19, 2009
Josie - today you turn 4.
This has been a much anticipated day in your world. You've been looking forward to being 4 almost as much as you've already been looking forward to being 5. You asked me this morning as we walked together up the sidewalk to Betty's house if you had already turned 4, almost as if you truly expected there to be some magical, sparkly moment when IT happened, and you were afraid you missed it. I told you that yes, the whole day today marks the occasion of turning 4 - but that technically, you weren't born until 6:29 p.m., so that would mark the actual turning point. You had already moved on to the anticipation of more birthday presents at daycare, so I was basically speaking to myself. But I'll forgive you. You are so completely and totally fascinating to me. Your comprehension level of pretty much everything around you has skyrocketed in the last few months and let me tell you - you are funny. And inquisitive. We have hit the "why" stage with you hardcore. And yes, it tires me out - but I love that you're not satisfied with an easy answer. I hope you keep this trait. I'm also incredibly impressed in how much you've blossomed socially as of late. Just last night I was watching you actually relish in being the center of attention as you opened your gifts with Daddy's family. This hasn't really happened much before. School is a hot topic around our house for the past few months, and you are more than ready for something new. You're a sponge, and you crave learning new things. You've found a new love for dance and a deeper love for anything Disney Princess-related. You are in a stereotypical "girly" stage, through and through. The other day you tried on every dress in your closet. And you're so cute doing it, I even hung them all back up without complaining. Too much. But you're also finding out how much you love to skate, and just to be outdoors, in general. Not on nature hikes, mind you, but just outside playing. You'll be out there way longer than any good parent should normally let you, and not complain the entire time. You love to "shovel," and you love to help us out around the house, in general. Somehow, sadly, I'm sure this stage will pass, but I'm gonna soak it up while I can. I can't do justice to the entire awesome nature of your little being here. To know you is to truly love you, and I am so blessed to have you in my life. You are turning a corner into a world of being a child versus being a baby - and I am both incredibly saddened and incredibly proud. If you ever read the things posted here, I hope you can understand that the lack of updates about you as of late is only a reflection of my own frustration over not being able to capture everything about you and being overwhelmed by it all, and therefore, just plain not doing it. I told someone the other night that everything that you and your sister do lately is "blogworthy," and it is beyond my capability to keep up. So I'm busy just soaking it all up. I think that is a forgivable thing. As is the lack of reasonably sized paragraphs in this post. At least, I hope so.
I love you from your nose to your toes, Josephine. Happy Birthday.
This has been a much anticipated day in your world. You've been looking forward to being 4 almost as much as you've already been looking forward to being 5. You asked me this morning as we walked together up the sidewalk to Betty's house if you had already turned 4, almost as if you truly expected there to be some magical, sparkly moment when IT happened, and you were afraid you missed it. I told you that yes, the whole day today marks the occasion of turning 4 - but that technically, you weren't born until 6:29 p.m., so that would mark the actual turning point. You had already moved on to the anticipation of more birthday presents at daycare, so I was basically speaking to myself. But I'll forgive you. You are so completely and totally fascinating to me. Your comprehension level of pretty much everything around you has skyrocketed in the last few months and let me tell you - you are funny. And inquisitive. We have hit the "why" stage with you hardcore. And yes, it tires me out - but I love that you're not satisfied with an easy answer. I hope you keep this trait. I'm also incredibly impressed in how much you've blossomed socially as of late. Just last night I was watching you actually relish in being the center of attention as you opened your gifts with Daddy's family. This hasn't really happened much before. School is a hot topic around our house for the past few months, and you are more than ready for something new. You're a sponge, and you crave learning new things. You've found a new love for dance and a deeper love for anything Disney Princess-related. You are in a stereotypical "girly" stage, through and through. The other day you tried on every dress in your closet. And you're so cute doing it, I even hung them all back up without complaining. Too much. But you're also finding out how much you love to skate, and just to be outdoors, in general. Not on nature hikes, mind you, but just outside playing. You'll be out there way longer than any good parent should normally let you, and not complain the entire time. You love to "shovel," and you love to help us out around the house, in general. Somehow, sadly, I'm sure this stage will pass, but I'm gonna soak it up while I can. I can't do justice to the entire awesome nature of your little being here. To know you is to truly love you, and I am so blessed to have you in my life. You are turning a corner into a world of being a child versus being a baby - and I am both incredibly saddened and incredibly proud. If you ever read the things posted here, I hope you can understand that the lack of updates about you as of late is only a reflection of my own frustration over not being able to capture everything about you and being overwhelmed by it all, and therefore, just plain not doing it. I told someone the other night that everything that you and your sister do lately is "blogworthy," and it is beyond my capability to keep up. So I'm busy just soaking it all up. I think that is a forgivable thing. As is the lack of reasonably sized paragraphs in this post. At least, I hope so.
I love you from your nose to your toes, Josephine. Happy Birthday.
Hey! Why didn't someone tell me it was 2009??
Monday, January 12, 2009
So I have a confession. I've been, um... kind of... seeing someone else. It's nothing personal - it's just so... well, new - and exciting. It's someone much younger, and more in touch with what's going on in the world today. Alright, I'll just tell you. It's Facebook. There. It's out in the open. Are you happy now?? I know, Blogger. I've been neglecting you. I promise - I'll be back. Please be patient with me. We go too far back to just throw it all away... I have to let Facebook down gently, or we all could be in trouble. I try to pull away - but... the hold is just too strong... soon, Blogger, soon. Wait for me.
(Pretend there's a really witty title up in here.)
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Every day, there are the beginnings of numerous blog posts rattling around in my head.
chirp, chirp.
As you can see - they rarely make it out. Let's just follow the "no news is good news" way of thinking for the time being; I promise I've got pages of funny things the kids have said written down, and tons of cute pix and vids just waiting patiently to be posted, and updates aplenty regarding what we've been up to. But there are gifts to be wrapped, and clothes to be folded - and hell. Who am I kidding... a nap to be taken! (Cut me some slack - I'm on vacation!) So I wish you all a truly blessed and happy Christmas with family and friends. Now, where's my blankie?
chirp, chirp.
As you can see - they rarely make it out. Let's just follow the "no news is good news" way of thinking for the time being; I promise I've got pages of funny things the kids have said written down, and tons of cute pix and vids just waiting patiently to be posted, and updates aplenty regarding what we've been up to. But there are gifts to be wrapped, and clothes to be folded - and hell. Who am I kidding... a nap to be taken! (Cut me some slack - I'm on vacation!) So I wish you all a truly blessed and happy Christmas with family and friends. Now, where's my blankie?
One of Many...
Thursday, November 13, 2008
... reasons I love my husband:
He makes me peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when we run out of lunch meat. But not just any peanut butter and jelly sandwich - the kind of peanut butter and jelly sandwich that he HATES.... the heavy on the peanut butter kind. Apparently he suffered some sort of traumatic thick peanut butter incident as a child, and has never recovered. Thick peanut butter makes him almost as angry as cauliflower does. I know. Don't ask. Anyway - he knows that I don't care for his style of PB&J - which equals thin peanut butter. Peanut butter so thin you can barely see, hear or smell it on your sandwich. Peanut butter portions so thin that I actually feel sorry for my children when I find out that he's made them PB&J sammies for lunch without me there to intervene. Because what kind of a life is a life without thick peanut butter??! Thank God they've got me to balance out the thin peanut butter insanity.
What was I talking about...?
Oh, yeah. How much I appreciate that he's able to overcome his phobia and make me a proper PB&J sammy because he knows how happy it makes me to have a thickness of peanut butter no less than a mattress. A mattress with a pillowtop. And then he puts in in a sandwich baggie, and labels it lovingly with a "C" so I know not to mistakenly grab one of his sandwiches by mistake. Because believe you me... the wrath he has to endure if I get an inappropriate thickness of PB on my sammy... oh, yeah. Quite embarrassing - especially at work. :)
And how lucky am I that he hasn't kicked me to the curb and told me to make my own frickin' sandwiches?? I know. Damn lucky.
He makes me peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when we run out of lunch meat. But not just any peanut butter and jelly sandwich - the kind of peanut butter and jelly sandwich that he HATES.... the heavy on the peanut butter kind. Apparently he suffered some sort of traumatic thick peanut butter incident as a child, and has never recovered. Thick peanut butter makes him almost as angry as cauliflower does. I know. Don't ask. Anyway - he knows that I don't care for his style of PB&J - which equals thin peanut butter. Peanut butter so thin you can barely see, hear or smell it on your sandwich. Peanut butter portions so thin that I actually feel sorry for my children when I find out that he's made them PB&J sammies for lunch without me there to intervene. Because what kind of a life is a life without thick peanut butter??! Thank God they've got me to balance out the thin peanut butter insanity.
What was I talking about...?
Oh, yeah. How much I appreciate that he's able to overcome his phobia and make me a proper PB&J sammy because he knows how happy it makes me to have a thickness of peanut butter no less than a mattress. A mattress with a pillowtop. And then he puts in in a sandwich baggie, and labels it lovingly with a "C" so I know not to mistakenly grab one of his sandwiches by mistake. Because believe you me... the wrath he has to endure if I get an inappropriate thickness of PB on my sammy... oh, yeah. Quite embarrassing - especially at work. :)
And how lucky am I that he hasn't kicked me to the curb and told me to make my own frickin' sandwiches?? I know. Damn lucky.
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