It's lunchtime. I probably should balance my checkbook. Or search for things for hubby and me to do on our upcoming wedding anniversary. Maybe even something that doesn't require a coupon.
Or possibly - avert your eyes if you have a sensitive stomach - work through lunch.
But here I am - writing to you, instead.
So a while ago I received one of those annoying forwarded emails (sorry, Mamasan) that demands you to forward on to 10 friends or die a horrible and untimely death, and which required only that the recipient describe the sender in one word. This seemed not-so-horrible, and the day and mood struck me, and I actually did forward this one on, instead of hitting ye ole' delete button. I expected exactly zero responses, and received seven. Bonus! For those who didn't respond, I completely and totally understand, and only view you slightly less of a friend than I did before. :) Normally, I wouldn't, either, and that's precisely why we all get along so well.
I actually compiled a list of the responses (remember, these are the one-word responses that my friends chose when asked to describe me,) and will share them with you:
Supportive
Articulate
Woo-Woo (If you don't know, please don't ask.)
Pleasurable
Fun
Writer
Perspicacious (I know. I had to look it up, too.)
I wrote the responses down and have them posted here at my desk. I've found it quite helpful when I'm having one of Those Days (you know - the ones when I use words such as "overweight," "poor," or "boring" to describe myself) to take a look at the list and give myself a little boost. I know that a good self-image is supposed to come from within... Dr. Phil... blah, blah, blah... but it really does help to know that some people that I hold in pretty high esteem chose those words to describe me. So, thanks. That was very munificent of you.
Kings and Vagabonds
Don't get me wrong - I love Sir Elton. BUT - his rendition of "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" gets STUCK. IN. MY. HEAD. For days. Not all of it, either, which would be a little more tolerable, but mostly just the phrase, "kings and 
vagabonds," but you have to say like this: "kingsh and vagabondsh," in a very low, very Sean Connery tone. If I'm being perfectly honest (and I don't mean to be rude) - it's utterly horrible. In case you couldn't tell - "The Lion King" is on the most frequently played list at our place lately.I'm flippin' tired today. Stupid rain doesn't help.
Neither does a jam-packed weekend. We:
celebrated Mom's birthday on Friday at my sis's house in Chatfield, took the girlies to Underwater Adventures at MOA on Saturday, visited Aamodt's Apple Orchard on Sunday morning, then went to a post-marathon party to honor Jean's completion of the Twin Cities Marathon yesterday.
OH - and how could I forget??! I lived the "suite"-life (sorry.) in our company suite Thursday night for the home opener of the Minnesota Wild season. And they won. And I went out for a beer (or two.) with a friend from work afterwards. And that late night was probably the kicker as it started off the busy weekend.
Good times. I haven't visited my friends at Caribou in ages... hmm... gotta go. :)
Invisible
Monday, October 01, 2007
This was forwarded to me today by a pretty cool mom. I thought it was worth sharing. I'm not usually one to be overtly "churchy" or anything - but I like the underlying message in this one. And hey - I know that most of us are not alone in the work of raising our children - I didn't write it :)
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible.
Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more:
Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a hair clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this." It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:
"To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, "Because God sees."
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake
you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction.
But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible.
Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more:
Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a hair clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this." It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:
"To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, "Because God sees."
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake
you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction.
But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
The Curse
Doncha' hate it when you're trying to cram your newly-purchased feminine products underneath the bathroom sink (because god forbid that you clean out all the crap under there) and suddenly you bump into a pipe or something and it breaks and then you're in the middle of Niagara Falls, in your very own bathroom?
Yeah. Me, too.
Then you're drenched, and the floor is quickly turning into a kiddie-pool, and your children are starting to cry because you're screaming at your husband to... do something. Which he quickly and effectively does, thank God, because you realize that you have absolutely no frickin' idea where the water shut-off valve is in your own home. **Note to readers - learn where the water shut-off valve is in your own homes.
And now I know why they call it "the curse."
Otherwise - it was an uneventful weekend.
Josie thinks that because it's dark out in the mornings now when we're up and at 'em, we should still be sleeping instead of getting ready to go to Betty's house. I wholeheartedly agree.
Eve thinks that 1/2 hour naps are more than sufficient. I wholeheartedly disagree. She just doesn't understand that naps make the world go 'round. Someday, when she has a dreaded 8:00 a.m. class in college, she'll understand the virtues of the nap.
Yeah. Me, too.
Then you're drenched, and the floor is quickly turning into a kiddie-pool, and your children are starting to cry because you're screaming at your husband to... do something. Which he quickly and effectively does, thank God, because you realize that you have absolutely no frickin' idea where the water shut-off valve is in your own home. **Note to readers - learn where the water shut-off valve is in your own homes.
And now I know why they call it "the curse."
Otherwise - it was an uneventful weekend.
Josie thinks that because it's dark out in the mornings now when we're up and at 'em, we should still be sleeping instead of getting ready to go to Betty's house. I wholeheartedly agree.
Eve thinks that 1/2 hour naps are more than sufficient. I wholeheartedly disagree. She just doesn't understand that naps make the world go 'round. Someday, when she has a dreaded 8:00 a.m. class in college, she'll understand the virtues of the nap.
Miscellanies
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
I wrote awhile back about how there were days I feel like a super-mom. Last night, we were a super-family.
It was just one of those nights where everything is spot on, perfect. Of course, there are still moments of whining, defiance and quick tears... and then the girls have their fits, too :) Daycare pick-up was joyful, Eve was a one-girl comedy show, Jo was in a great mood, we warmed up a bunch of leftovers for supper (which would normally put me in a VERY crabby mood... but for some reason, I didn't mind last night,) were done eating and had the kitchen cleaned up before 6:00, got everyone ready, loaded in the wagon and headed to the park. We rivaled the frickin' von Trapp family, sans homemade curtain-clothing.
Since there were frantic middle-school football games going on by "our" park, and we wanted to play some fetch with the dog, we headed up to the local elementary school. Patrick has played with the dog and girls there before, but I never had. It was a nice change of scenery. I don't know what it was, something in the air, alignment of the stars, Jupiter was in retrograde... I don't know. It was just... good. Even though there was a stream of traffic on 3rd St, and people out walking their dogs, and an event going on at the church across the street, I felt like we had the world to ourselves. In that moment, I had everything I could ever ask for.
Maybe we'll have to do leftovers more often.
______________________________________
Updates:
My back and neck are doing much better. I've been going to the natural care clinic a couple times a week. I'll start going once a week now, and can hopefully stop going soon, and be in "rehab." Whatever that means. Do I have to give up the booze?
Speaking of which - Pat and I had an interesting convo last night. He gets confused by "on the wagon" and "off the wagon." He always mixes them up - so when talking about someone who is currently sober, wants to say that they're "off the wagon." Apparently - "the wagon" isn't sobriety in his mind... but one giant party, instead. Woo-hoo! Let's get on the wagon! Maybe it has something to do with the fact that his fraternity always had a float in the homecoming parade in college, and everyone would be drinking and partying at 9:00 in the morning... on the wagon. Hmmm...
Eve's noggin is fine. She's got a nice little gash over her right eye on her forehead, but it looks like it's healing. And it certainly hasn't slowed her down one bit. Now she has taken to giving me mini-heart attacks by trying to climb over the gate at the top of the basement stairs. Might as well reserve a bed in the ER now.
Ben is undergoing treatments. He has a long road ahead. Keep him and my brother and Amy in your thoughts, as it is a bumpy road.
Pat's Grandma is taking things one day at a time. She is still fighting the staph infection and trying to find a balance between all that ails her.
Another Jo-ism... the other night she had a tear in her thumbnail. So I got the clippers and took care of it for her. It had torn a little short, and must have been bothering her. She said something about it hurting, and I told her that I was sorry it hurt, but it would grow out soon and stop hurting. She thought about this for a while, and then asked me "when her thumb would grow up.
It was just one of those nights where everything is spot on, perfect. Of course, there are still moments of whining, defiance and quick tears... and then the girls have their fits, too :) Daycare pick-up was joyful, Eve was a one-girl comedy show, Jo was in a great mood, we warmed up a bunch of leftovers for supper (which would normally put me in a VERY crabby mood... but for some reason, I didn't mind last night,) were done eating and had the kitchen cleaned up before 6:00, got everyone ready, loaded in the wagon and headed to the park. We rivaled the frickin' von Trapp family, sans homemade curtain-clothing.
Since there were frantic middle-school football games going on by "our" park, and we wanted to play some fetch with the dog, we headed up to the local elementary school. Patrick has played with the dog and girls there before, but I never had. It was a nice change of scenery. I don't know what it was, something in the air, alignment of the stars, Jupiter was in retrograde... I don't know. It was just... good. Even though there was a stream of traffic on 3rd St, and people out walking their dogs, and an event going on at the church across the street, I felt like we had the world to ourselves. In that moment, I had everything I could ever ask for.
Maybe we'll have to do leftovers more often.
______________________________________
Updates:
My back and neck are doing much better. I've been going to the natural care clinic a couple times a week. I'll start going once a week now, and can hopefully stop going soon, and be in "rehab." Whatever that means. Do I have to give up the booze?
Speaking of which - Pat and I had an interesting convo last night. He gets confused by "on the wagon" and "off the wagon." He always mixes them up - so when talking about someone who is currently sober, wants to say that they're "off the wagon." Apparently - "the wagon" isn't sobriety in his mind... but one giant party, instead. Woo-hoo! Let's get on the wagon! Maybe it has something to do with the fact that his fraternity always had a float in the homecoming parade in college, and everyone would be drinking and partying at 9:00 in the morning... on the wagon. Hmmm...
Eve's noggin is fine. She's got a nice little gash over her right eye on her forehead, but it looks like it's healing. And it certainly hasn't slowed her down one bit. Now she has taken to giving me mini-heart attacks by trying to climb over the gate at the top of the basement stairs. Might as well reserve a bed in the ER now.
Ben is undergoing treatments. He has a long road ahead. Keep him and my brother and Amy in your thoughts, as it is a bumpy road.
Pat's Grandma is taking things one day at a time. She is still fighting the staph infection and trying to find a balance between all that ails her.
Another Jo-ism... the other night she had a tear in her thumbnail. So I got the clippers and took care of it for her. It had torn a little short, and must have been bothering her. She said something about it hurting, and I told her that I was sorry it hurt, but it would grow out soon and stop hurting. She thought about this for a while, and then asked me "when her thumb would grow up.
Amen.
Monday, September 24, 2007
This wins my coveted "Cool Post of the Day Award."
What's that you say? I don't have an award? Oh. Crap.
Check it out anyway.
http://www.dooce.com/archives/daily/09_20_2007.html
What's that you say? I don't have an award? Oh. Crap.
Check it out anyway.
http://www.dooce.com/archives/daily/09_20_2007.html
By the moon and the stars in the sky...
I swear.
No - not the lyrics to a John Michael Montgomery song... I actually mean that sometimes, I swear. I really try not to... but situations just bring it on. You know, like driving. And letting the dog out to go potty and having him bolt through the giant hole in our fence. (NOTE - said hole in fence is now fixed. Yahoo!) So when situations like this arise, sometimes the only sure thing is to let out a good ole G-dammit.
So I'm in the kitchen on Saturday and Pat is working outside and the dog has just been let out and I hear Josie ask where Brewster went and I say something to the effect of "outside to go potty" or "in the yard with Daddy," and she goes to the sliding door to look and I hear "G-dammit!"
Oops. So I pause.
And I hear it again. So I decide that I should probably address the situation. Or should I? But then I hear her say it again. Yup. I should.
So I step to Eve's bedroom, and Jo is leaning against the rocking chair, looking somewhat sheepish, and I ask her, calmly, politely, what she just said. And she tells me. And the funny thing is, she says it with this tone and look on her face like she knows that it's a bad word and shouldn't be repeated, without me even having to say so.
At this moment I'm feeling much more parental - at least in an authoritative, I-need-to-teach-you-right-from-wrong, way than I really ever have before, although also somewhat like I'm drowning, because geez, Martha, I don't know what the heck I'm doing.
So I simply say, "Jo, that's not a nice word and we shouldn't say it. Mommy and Daddy shouldn't say it, either."
And, bless her little soul, she simply says back to me, "okay, Mommy. I won't." Could I be any more lucky??!! We'll see if it sticks.
So like I says, the fence is fixed. And the laundry is done, at least for an hour or so. And we had a pretty low-key weekend. I have this image burned in my brain of the girls in the Barbie Jeep in our yard last night, Josie with her foot firmly fixed on the gas, Eve in the passenger seat, holding onto the windshield and the biggest smile you've ever seen in your life plastered across her face, and Pat racing along beside them grabbing the steering wheel to make sure they don't inflict bodily harm onto their little selves.
Then Monday morning comes. And I'm chatting with co-workers, and my spy-phone rings. Okay - so I'm not really a spy, I just play one on tv. But I do have a display phone at work, so if I ever don't answer when you call me, it's probably on purpose. So I look, and see that it's DB. G-dammit. DB only calls if someone is bleeding. And even then, maybe only if they're bleeding profusely.
So I throw up a little bit in my mouth because I know this isn't going to be happy news, then pick up the phone. Eve bumped her head (big surprise) and has a gash above her eye. DB got the bleeding to stop, and put a butterfly bandage on it, and Eve is fine. So I delegate stitches-duty to Pat and off he goes. And that's pretty much all I know for right now. He got the runaround at our clinic and I think he's at the ER with her right now. ***UPDATE. Just got angry call from angry husband. Still waiting to be seen. Daughter getting angry. ****UPDATE. Finally seen at ER. Glued cut closed. Seriously? We pay people lots of money. To glue my child. I'm in the wrong profession.
Like sands through the hourglass...
No - not the lyrics to a John Michael Montgomery song... I actually mean that sometimes, I swear. I really try not to... but situations just bring it on. You know, like driving. And letting the dog out to go potty and having him bolt through the giant hole in our fence. (NOTE - said hole in fence is now fixed. Yahoo!) So when situations like this arise, sometimes the only sure thing is to let out a good ole G-dammit.
So I'm in the kitchen on Saturday and Pat is working outside and the dog has just been let out and I hear Josie ask where Brewster went and I say something to the effect of "outside to go potty" or "in the yard with Daddy," and she goes to the sliding door to look and I hear "G-dammit!"
Oops. So I pause.
And I hear it again. So I decide that I should probably address the situation. Or should I? But then I hear her say it again. Yup. I should.
So I step to Eve's bedroom, and Jo is leaning against the rocking chair, looking somewhat sheepish, and I ask her, calmly, politely, what she just said. And she tells me. And the funny thing is, she says it with this tone and look on her face like she knows that it's a bad word and shouldn't be repeated, without me even having to say so.
At this moment I'm feeling much more parental - at least in an authoritative, I-need-to-teach-you-right-from-wrong, way than I really ever have before, although also somewhat like I'm drowning, because geez, Martha, I don't know what the heck I'm doing.
So I simply say, "Jo, that's not a nice word and we shouldn't say it. Mommy and Daddy shouldn't say it, either."
And, bless her little soul, she simply says back to me, "okay, Mommy. I won't." Could I be any more lucky??!! We'll see if it sticks.
So like I says, the fence is fixed. And the laundry is done, at least for an hour or so. And we had a pretty low-key weekend. I have this image burned in my brain of the girls in the Barbie Jeep in our yard last night, Josie with her foot firmly fixed on the gas, Eve in the passenger seat, holding onto the windshield and the biggest smile you've ever seen in your life plastered across her face, and Pat racing along beside them grabbing the steering wheel to make sure they don't inflict bodily harm onto their little selves.
Then Monday morning comes. And I'm chatting with co-workers, and my spy-phone rings. Okay - so I'm not really a spy, I just play one on tv. But I do have a display phone at work, so if I ever don't answer when you call me, it's probably on purpose. So I look, and see that it's DB. G-dammit. DB only calls if someone is bleeding. And even then, maybe only if they're bleeding profusely.
So I throw up a little bit in my mouth because I know this isn't going to be happy news, then pick up the phone. Eve bumped her head (big surprise) and has a gash above her eye. DB got the bleeding to stop, and put a butterfly bandage on it, and Eve is fine. So I delegate stitches-duty to Pat and off he goes. And that's pretty much all I know for right now. He got the runaround at our clinic and I think he's at the ER with her right now. ***UPDATE. Just got angry call from angry husband. Still waiting to be seen. Daughter getting angry. ****UPDATE. Finally seen at ER. Glued cut closed. Seriously? We pay people lots of money. To glue my child. I'm in the wrong profession.
Like sands through the hourglass...
My Friend, Sugar
Monday, September 17, 2007
Reader be warned. This is going to get rambly.
Sometimes I can't find the words.
And it drives me absolutely insane.
You may say that judging by the length of this post - it looks like I found words-o-plenty. Which I did, but what I mean is that sometimes I feel like I can't find the right words.
Usually when I'm feeling all discombobulated, making a list helps. If we're leaving for a weekend trip - I have a list of everything we need to pack. Having a birthday party - a list of everything that needs to be done and bought. Approaching changing seasons - a list of all the clothes I need to buy for the girls. But this time - making a list just won't cut it.
Let me explain.
Jody at Nitty.Gritty frequently blogs about finding the joy in your life, taking note of happy moments as they occur and enjoying the little things. I greatly admire her and her outlook on life, so I'm always thinking a lot about what she says, and trying to take joy in the small moments in our life and the lives of our little girls, while they're still little.
Maybe I've just encountered so many of them lately that I can't wrap my mind around all of it. So many times over the weekend I was whacked upside the head with a whole lot of... lucky. Josie and Evie are blowing me away every single day with their... well, just their collective being. They are so happy. And funny. And smart. And beautiful. Of course, I've always known this - but I am really focusing on appreciating it. Now that I'm appreciating it... it's the expressing it that I'm having problems with.
Who knows. Maybe how well I'm able to express it just depends on what time of the month it is. If you know what I mean. And if you don't - don't sweat it. I'm not going to explain. Sorry - tmi.
Wow. A bit better, I am feeling. Cathartic, this blogging is.
So. How 'bout a weekend wrap-up and a few highlights to really drive home my point. Wait - did I have one? Not so much? Oh, well. Guess time will tell.
If you haven't noticed, my Friday-updates play like a broken record. Which I absolutely love, because we get to spend them with people we absolutely love, the Gronaus. This time around, we played at the Dayton's Bluff Rec Center open-gym time for toddlers / pre-schoolers. Apparently, there are a number of these open gyms around our area, we're just finally getting in on them. And they are fabulous. A whole gymnasium open for little ones to run and jump and play and make a mess in for 2 hours. Genius.
Friday afternoon we packed up the girls and took them to Grandma Di and Grandpa Mike's house. For the night. I know. Can you believe it? A whole night to ourselves to enjoy the wedding reception for our friends, Dave and Dana, who got married in Wyoming in August. Um, a good time was had. Perhaps a little too good, but I digress. But what a treat not to have to rise and shine at the crack of 6:30 with the girls and their crazy demands for attention and food and whatnot.
Saturday we picked up the girls around 10:30 am, then went to a housewarming party for another friend, Katy, up in Hugo later that afternoon. Our stay was cut a bit short as Eve got a heckuva tummy ache and started to scream. Nothing gets a party started like a screaming toddler, so we un-gracefully made our exit. And she continued to scream the entire way home. The kind of scream that says she's in pain and kills every cell in your heart because you don't really know what's wrong, and there's nothing you can do about it. I don't know if something she ate rubbed her the wrong way, or if she had too much fruit, or what - but her poor little belly was hard as a rock, and we were finally able to get a couple of good burps out of her, and she seemed to be better. And proceeded to sleep well - which was a blessing, considering that I was braced for a rough night.
Sunday we went to St. Jerome's Fall Festival. Holy cow - I can't even begin to believe that a whole year has passed since the last one... I can remember last year's with crazy clarity. I've usually got a pretty darn good memory for details - even with "mommy-brain," but the amount of things I remember from last year is kinda weird. Like where we parked, and the people sitting in front of us, what the girls were wearing, and walking through the school holding Josie's hand and baby-Evie in her carrier on my front... it's weird.
And here we were, doing it all over again a year later. The weather couldn't have been more perfect, Evie fell asleep on Pat half-way through the outdoor polka mass, and we just plain had a good time (here, I'm tempted to say despite the polka mass... but I won't :):):).) Josie got to ride a pony, Sugar, which I'm pretty sure is the same pony she rode last year. We had some lunch, played some games, and Jo went in the "bouncy" 3 times (and got scared at the top of the slide the last time, so Pat had to climb in and go get her to alleviate the back-up of impatient kids impatiently waiting their turns.) Eve is still a little too little to enjoy most of the activities, but she loves being outside and was happy wheeling around in the stroller, with the occasional stop to let her roam around to eat rocks and shove pine cones up her nose and threaten the Jesus statue in front of the cake-walk. Who could ask for anything more!? It was way past nap-time, so we told Jo it was time to leave. Her poor little tired self didn't agree - and she cried the whole way to the van. "It's not time to go hoooooommmme!"
Oh - cute Josie story. Last night she was reading books with Daddy before bed. Big surprise. They came out of the bedroom to make the last potty stop of the night - and something caught my attention in the doorway out of the corner of my eye, so I look, and there's Josie, standing in the doorway, with her booty sticking out, shaking her butt at me. When I looked, she smirked and bolted into the bathroom. Of course, she thought she was quite funny, so repeated the performance on the way back to her room. Didn't say a word, just shook her butt and continued on her way. That kid cracks me up.
Cute Evie story - due to the um, crabby, disposition of our cat, Baxter, our girls never have "meowed" a sweet little kitten mew when you ask them what sound a kitty makes. It's more of a growling, agitated, angry meow-sound. So Eve loves that crazy cat, regardless of his crusty nature. If he dares to walk in the same room as her, she screams excitedly, and runs to belly-flop on top of him and love him up. Which, as you can guess, he does not take too kindly to. He'll "meow" at her - and now she has started to throw one right back at him. Which only perturbs him even more. And I think slightly baffles him - as he thinks he's being tough and scary, and most kids would probably agree and high-tail it for safety. Poor Eve doesn't have anyone to compare him to, so she thinks it's perfectly normal behavior.
And. Thanks to everyone for your kindness and good thoughts for Ben and Grandma Ashton. It sounds like things are going well for Ben, and they didn't find any more cancer in his body. I wish, so wish, that I had equally good news for Grandma Ashton. I don't know all of the details, but it sounds like she has a couple of tough decisions to make regarding continuing the antibiotics or continuing dialysis. Hopefully they can get the infection under control and things will turn around.
And I'm done. For now.
Sometimes I can't find the words.
And it drives me absolutely insane.
You may say that judging by the length of this post - it looks like I found words-o-plenty. Which I did, but what I mean is that sometimes I feel like I can't find the right words.
Usually when I'm feeling all discombobulated, making a list helps. If we're leaving for a weekend trip - I have a list of everything we need to pack. Having a birthday party - a list of everything that needs to be done and bought. Approaching changing seasons - a list of all the clothes I need to buy for the girls. But this time - making a list just won't cut it.
Let me explain.
Jody at Nitty.Gritty frequently blogs about finding the joy in your life, taking note of happy moments as they occur and enjoying the little things. I greatly admire her and her outlook on life, so I'm always thinking a lot about what she says, and trying to take joy in the small moments in our life and the lives of our little girls, while they're still little.
Maybe I've just encountered so many of them lately that I can't wrap my mind around all of it. So many times over the weekend I was whacked upside the head with a whole lot of... lucky. Josie and Evie are blowing me away every single day with their... well, just their collective being. They are so happy. And funny. And smart. And beautiful. Of course, I've always known this - but I am really focusing on appreciating it. Now that I'm appreciating it... it's the expressing it that I'm having problems with.
Who knows. Maybe how well I'm able to express it just depends on what time of the month it is. If you know what I mean. And if you don't - don't sweat it. I'm not going to explain. Sorry - tmi.
Wow. A bit better, I am feeling. Cathartic, this blogging is.
So. How 'bout a weekend wrap-up and a few highlights to really drive home my point. Wait - did I have one? Not so much? Oh, well. Guess time will tell.
If you haven't noticed, my Friday-updates play like a broken record. Which I absolutely love, because we get to spend them with people we absolutely love, the Gronaus. This time around, we played at the Dayton's Bluff Rec Center open-gym time for toddlers / pre-schoolers. Apparently, there are a number of these open gyms around our area, we're just finally getting in on them. And they are fabulous. A whole gymnasium open for little ones to run and jump and play and make a mess in for 2 hours. Genius.
Friday afternoon we packed up the girls and took them to Grandma Di and Grandpa Mike's house. For the night. I know. Can you believe it? A whole night to ourselves to enjoy the wedding reception for our friends, Dave and Dana, who got married in Wyoming in August. Um, a good time was had. Perhaps a little too good, but I digress. But what a treat not to have to rise and shine at the crack of 6:30 with the girls and their crazy demands for attention and food and whatnot.
Saturday we picked up the girls around 10:30 am, then went to a housewarming party for another friend, Katy, up in Hugo later that afternoon. Our stay was cut a bit short as Eve got a heckuva tummy ache and started to scream. Nothing gets a party started like a screaming toddler, so we un-gracefully made our exit. And she continued to scream the entire way home. The kind of scream that says she's in pain and kills every cell in your heart because you don't really know what's wrong, and there's nothing you can do about it. I don't know if something she ate rubbed her the wrong way, or if she had too much fruit, or what - but her poor little belly was hard as a rock, and we were finally able to get a couple of good burps out of her, and she seemed to be better. And proceeded to sleep well - which was a blessing, considering that I was braced for a rough night.
Sunday we went to St. Jerome's Fall Festival. Holy cow - I can't even begin to believe that a whole year has passed since the last one... I can remember last year's with crazy clarity. I've usually got a pretty darn good memory for details - even with "mommy-brain," but the amount of things I remember from last year is kinda weird. Like where we parked, and the people sitting in front of us, what the girls were wearing, and walking through the school holding Josie's hand and baby-Evie in her carrier on my front... it's weird.
And here we were, doing it all over again a year later. The weather couldn't have been more perfect, Evie fell asleep on Pat half-way through the outdoor polka mass, and we just plain had a good time (here, I'm tempted to say despite the polka mass... but I won't :):):).) Josie got to ride a pony, Sugar, which I'm pretty sure is the same pony she rode last year. We had some lunch, played some games, and Jo went in the "bouncy" 3 times (and got scared at the top of the slide the last time, so Pat had to climb in and go get her to alleviate the back-up of impatient kids impatiently waiting their turns.) Eve is still a little too little to enjoy most of the activities, but she loves being outside and was happy wheeling around in the stroller, with the occasional stop to let her roam around to eat rocks and shove pine cones up her nose and threaten the Jesus statue in front of the cake-walk. Who could ask for anything more!? It was way past nap-time, so we told Jo it was time to leave. Her poor little tired self didn't agree - and she cried the whole way to the van. "It's not time to go hoooooommmme!"
Oh - cute Josie story. Last night she was reading books with Daddy before bed. Big surprise. They came out of the bedroom to make the last potty stop of the night - and something caught my attention in the doorway out of the corner of my eye, so I look, and there's Josie, standing in the doorway, with her booty sticking out, shaking her butt at me. When I looked, she smirked and bolted into the bathroom. Of course, she thought she was quite funny, so repeated the performance on the way back to her room. Didn't say a word, just shook her butt and continued on her way. That kid cracks me up.
Cute Evie story - due to the um, crabby, disposition of our cat, Baxter, our girls never have "meowed" a sweet little kitten mew when you ask them what sound a kitty makes. It's more of a growling, agitated, angry meow-sound. So Eve loves that crazy cat, regardless of his crusty nature. If he dares to walk in the same room as her, she screams excitedly, and runs to belly-flop on top of him and love him up. Which, as you can guess, he does not take too kindly to. He'll "meow" at her - and now she has started to throw one right back at him. Which only perturbs him even more. And I think slightly baffles him - as he thinks he's being tough and scary, and most kids would probably agree and high-tail it for safety. Poor Eve doesn't have anyone to compare him to, so she thinks it's perfectly normal behavior.
And. Thanks to everyone for your kindness and good thoughts for Ben and Grandma Ashton. It sounds like things are going well for Ben, and they didn't find any more cancer in his body. I wish, so wish, that I had equally good news for Grandma Ashton. I don't know all of the details, but it sounds like she has a couple of tough decisions to make regarding continuing the antibiotics or continuing dialysis. Hopefully they can get the infection under control and things will turn around.
And I'm done. For now.
The Power of Positive Thinking...
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
I'm writing today to ask for good thoughts, well-wishes, prayers... whatever sort of positive vibes you're into... for a couple of family members.
My brother's wife, Amy, has an 18-year-old son, Ben. Ben was diagnosed with Rhabdomyosarcoma this summer. They found it in a salivary gland. He's looking at some tough treatments coming up, and I know they all could use your well-wishes.
Patrick's Grandma Ashton is currently hospitalized at United. She's had a tough time this summer - had heart problems and started kidney dialysis, and now more recently, a staph infection landed her back in the hospital. Currently, she's still fighting the infection and blood clots in her legs, the stent for dialysis keeps plugging, and she's in a lot of pain. This is one amazing woman who has given birth to 11 children... and manages to keep track of all of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Someone with such a huge heart deserves huge prayers. Not only is she struggling right now, but her husband, Patrick's Grandpa Ashton, is in a care center. Their whole family could really use a break from anymore bad news.
My brother's wife, Amy, has an 18-year-old son, Ben. Ben was diagnosed with Rhabdomyosarcoma this summer. They found it in a salivary gland. He's looking at some tough treatments coming up, and I know they all could use your well-wishes.
Patrick's Grandma Ashton is currently hospitalized at United. She's had a tough time this summer - had heart problems and started kidney dialysis, and now more recently, a staph infection landed her back in the hospital. Currently, she's still fighting the infection and blood clots in her legs, the stent for dialysis keeps plugging, and she's in a lot of pain. This is one amazing woman who has given birth to 11 children... and manages to keep track of all of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Someone with such a huge heart deserves huge prayers. Not only is she struggling right now, but her husband, Patrick's Grandpa Ashton, is in a care center. Their whole family could really use a break from anymore bad news.
Half-Cracked
Monday, September 10, 2007
Chiro update: I didn't *quite* get the relief I was seeking. After ooh-ing and aah-ing over how tight my upper-back and neck muscles were, she was able to adjust my neck nicely, but my spine wouldn't cooperate. I'm scheduled out for 4 more appointments during the next couple of weeks. I spent most of the weekend mighty sore, but by Sunday was feeling quite a bit better.
Otherwise, not much for news. Sometimes I feel like all I write about is the stressful, "bad" stuff that happens to us. Really, that "stuff" is only about 2% of our daily lives. The rest is quite mundane. But fun.
We took the girls to Como Town and the Zoo yesterday morning. The weather was perfect, it wasn't crowded, we got a great parking spot, and we had a coupon (of course! I am married to Captain Coupon, after all...) for buy ten ride tickets, get ten free - which is a crazy amount of tickets for a two and a-half-year old considering that the rides that interest her are one or two tickets - AND not to mention that we just absolutely LOVE that place. As far as I'm concerned, it beats the Minnesota Zoo a hundred times over. Anyway - we have lots of leftover tickets for Como Town rides if anyone is interested in going with us again by the end of the season. Super-cute side note: Josie takes her baby with us everywhere now. Including the zoo. She would sit in front of each exhibit and make sure her baby could see the animals. If you go and the animals seem a little disturbed, it's probably residual stress leftover from our visit and Eve shrieking with excitement at the top of her lungs when she'd spot the animals. Some of the monkeys seemed equally as interested in her as she was in them. Or they high-tailed it for safety.
Toddlers are funny. I went to get groceries yesterday afternoon after naps while Pat took the girls and dog over to his parents' house for a quick visit. We all arrived back home at about the same time, and commenced turning the house upside down in an attempt to put away all $150 worth of groceries and get supper started. Josie and Eve were "helping" me put away groceries. Jo actually is a pretty good helper, while Eve just likes to take things out of the bags and set them wily-nily all over the floor. So while simultaneously trying to grab jars of spaghetti sauce from Jo before they got dropped on the floor and keep Eve from opening and eating the container of mystery corn meal in our pantry - a collection of empty paper bags started to gather near the stove. We finally got everything put away and washed and prepared, and I turned to fold up the aforementioned empty bags. Only to find all of the letters and refrigerator magnets in one. And my shoes in another. And the remotes, and remote basket and baby monitors scattered in others. I turned to look for the culprit, and there is Jo, sitting sweetly in her chair at the table, smirking at me.
We bravely attempted a family dinner outing on Saturday night. After taking the girls to a park in West St. Paul, we went to Chula Vista on Robert Street. That's right - you guessed it, with a coupon. It went well. Josie is a piece of cake, it's Eve that is the questionable factor in the equation right now. Not because she's Eve, but because she's 13 months old. And doesn't like to sit still. But we came prepared with an arsenal of toys and books, and made it through the meal without any major embarrassing incidents. We were seated next to a wishing well, which Josie told me she'd like to go in. While Pat was wrangling Eve, who at this point was free from her highchair and was stubbornly attempting to go into the kitchen, I convinced Jo that the wishing well was only for coins to go in, and then she delightedly cleaned me out of pennies.
We got home after dinner, only to discover that Brewster had eaten all the cherry tay-moes (that's tomatoes, in case you didn't know) we had picked and put in a bowl on the counter. Jerk-ass dog. I was really looking forward to enjoying our bounty - considering that I've only consumed about 4 since the crop started. Somehow - when Pat and Jo go outside to gather them... not many make it into the house. Needless to say, this tragedy was the subject of most of our conversation for the remainder of the night.
Let's see, what else... um, Josie can count up to six now. And is very interested in writing her name. And Eve's name, and mommy, and daddy... with help, of course. It's so fun to see her desire to learn and soak up everything. And she amazes us every day with her manners. And when she gets up in the morning or when we pick her up after work, she tells us how much she misses us, and asks us if we missed her. We're bursting with pride, if you couldn't tell. She's such a doll.
And I've failed to mention, partly because I'm afraid of "jinxing" it - but Eve is sleeping like an absolute dream now. She has taken a total 180-degree turn, and is a breeze to put to bed. She still gets a nighttime bottle, we read about 3 books while she sits on my lap in the chair in her room, we sing a lullaby and she's practically diving head-first into her crib on her own. She buries her face in her blankie, turns to grab her other blankie, smiles and... that's it. I exit her room and she babbles contentedly for a bit before drifting off. To most of you this probably seems pretty routine - but for us, it's a dream-come-true. Which is why we're going to stinkin' enjoy every second of it while we can!
I'm sure part of the reason why she's sleeping so well now is because she is so active - what with walking, and running, and climbing and falling all over the place. The joy she takes in all of her new tricks can't even begin to match her parents'...
Big kudos to Patrick for cleaning out and organizing the garage on Saturday. It was bad. Real bad. I think he likes to let it get that bad just because I'm SO excited then when he does clean it. Well, I'm on to your shenanigans, mister.
Oh - and we just spent an insane amount of money on Van Halen tickets. I don't really know why I mention this. Perhaps to justify our equally insane over-usage of coupons. :)
Otherwise, not much for news. Sometimes I feel like all I write about is the stressful, "bad" stuff that happens to us. Really, that "stuff" is only about 2% of our daily lives. The rest is quite mundane. But fun.
We took the girls to Como Town and the Zoo yesterday morning. The weather was perfect, it wasn't crowded, we got a great parking spot, and we had a coupon (of course! I am married to Captain Coupon, after all...) for buy ten ride tickets, get ten free - which is a crazy amount of tickets for a two and a-half-year old considering that the rides that interest her are one or two tickets - AND not to mention that we just absolutely LOVE that place. As far as I'm concerned, it beats the Minnesota Zoo a hundred times over. Anyway - we have lots of leftover tickets for Como Town rides if anyone is interested in going with us again by the end of the season. Super-cute side note: Josie takes her baby with us everywhere now. Including the zoo. She would sit in front of each exhibit and make sure her baby could see the animals. If you go and the animals seem a little disturbed, it's probably residual stress leftover from our visit and Eve shrieking with excitement at the top of her lungs when she'd spot the animals. Some of the monkeys seemed equally as interested in her as she was in them. Or they high-tailed it for safety.
Toddlers are funny. I went to get groceries yesterday afternoon after naps while Pat took the girls and dog over to his parents' house for a quick visit. We all arrived back home at about the same time, and commenced turning the house upside down in an attempt to put away all $150 worth of groceries and get supper started. Josie and Eve were "helping" me put away groceries. Jo actually is a pretty good helper, while Eve just likes to take things out of the bags and set them wily-nily all over the floor. So while simultaneously trying to grab jars of spaghetti sauce from Jo before they got dropped on the floor and keep Eve from opening and eating the container of mystery corn meal in our pantry - a collection of empty paper bags started to gather near the stove. We finally got everything put away and washed and prepared, and I turned to fold up the aforementioned empty bags. Only to find all of the letters and refrigerator magnets in one. And my shoes in another. And the remotes, and remote basket and baby monitors scattered in others. I turned to look for the culprit, and there is Jo, sitting sweetly in her chair at the table, smirking at me.
We bravely attempted a family dinner outing on Saturday night. After taking the girls to a park in West St. Paul, we went to Chula Vista on Robert Street. That's right - you guessed it, with a coupon. It went well. Josie is a piece of cake, it's Eve that is the questionable factor in the equation right now. Not because she's Eve, but because she's 13 months old. And doesn't like to sit still. But we came prepared with an arsenal of toys and books, and made it through the meal without any major embarrassing incidents. We were seated next to a wishing well, which Josie told me she'd like to go in. While Pat was wrangling Eve, who at this point was free from her highchair and was stubbornly attempting to go into the kitchen, I convinced Jo that the wishing well was only for coins to go in, and then she delightedly cleaned me out of pennies.
We got home after dinner, only to discover that Brewster had eaten all the cherry tay-moes (that's tomatoes, in case you didn't know) we had picked and put in a bowl on the counter. Jerk-ass dog. I was really looking forward to enjoying our bounty - considering that I've only consumed about 4 since the crop started. Somehow - when Pat and Jo go outside to gather them... not many make it into the house. Needless to say, this tragedy was the subject of most of our conversation for the remainder of the night.
Let's see, what else... um, Josie can count up to six now. And is very interested in writing her name. And Eve's name, and mommy, and daddy... with help, of course. It's so fun to see her desire to learn and soak up everything. And she amazes us every day with her manners. And when she gets up in the morning or when we pick her up after work, she tells us how much she misses us, and asks us if we missed her. We're bursting with pride, if you couldn't tell. She's such a doll.
And I've failed to mention, partly because I'm afraid of "jinxing" it - but Eve is sleeping like an absolute dream now. She has taken a total 180-degree turn, and is a breeze to put to bed. She still gets a nighttime bottle, we read about 3 books while she sits on my lap in the chair in her room, we sing a lullaby and she's practically diving head-first into her crib on her own. She buries her face in her blankie, turns to grab her other blankie, smiles and... that's it. I exit her room and she babbles contentedly for a bit before drifting off. To most of you this probably seems pretty routine - but for us, it's a dream-come-true. Which is why we're going to stinkin' enjoy every second of it while we can!
I'm sure part of the reason why she's sleeping so well now is because she is so active - what with walking, and running, and climbing and falling all over the place. The joy she takes in all of her new tricks can't even begin to match her parents'...
Big kudos to Patrick for cleaning out and organizing the garage on Saturday. It was bad. Real bad. I think he likes to let it get that bad just because I'm SO excited then when he does clean it. Well, I'm on to your shenanigans, mister.
Oh - and we just spent an insane amount of money on Van Halen tickets. I don't really know why I mention this. Perhaps to justify our equally insane over-usage of coupons. :)
Goin' to the chiro... and I'm gonna get adju-uu-uu-sted...
Thursday, September 06, 2007
(sung to the tune of "Goin' to the Chapel")
It's Christmas. Or a really good sale at Macy's. Or maybe free health coolers from Caribou. That's just how excited I am for my upcoming appointment with my new chiropractor today.
Funny how quickly we forget major events in our lives, like when we're in a fender-bender (8 years ago) and have to visit a chiro for a few months after for adjustments, massage and muscle stim treatments.
Yeah. I totally forgot about that until something tweaky happened in my back and neck last weekend as we were getting ready to leave for my grandma's house. It hasn't gone away like it should have when I ignored it, and has invited a whole host of other annoying guests to its' party like a constant, dull headache and numbness down my right arm. Oh, and the super-fun party trick of not being able to turn my head without a sharp, shooting pain through my back.
Oooohhhh. I can taste it now... that one little crack right in between my shoulder blades. I can't wait!!
Might have to get a health cooler to celebrate :)
It's Christmas. Or a really good sale at Macy's. Or maybe free health coolers from Caribou. That's just how excited I am for my upcoming appointment with my new chiropractor today.
Funny how quickly we forget major events in our lives, like when we're in a fender-bender (8 years ago) and have to visit a chiro for a few months after for adjustments, massage and muscle stim treatments.
Yeah. I totally forgot about that until something tweaky happened in my back and neck last weekend as we were getting ready to leave for my grandma's house. It hasn't gone away like it should have when I ignored it, and has invited a whole host of other annoying guests to its' party like a constant, dull headache and numbness down my right arm. Oh, and the super-fun party trick of not being able to turn my head without a sharp, shooting pain through my back.
Oooohhhh. I can taste it now... that one little crack right in between my shoulder blades. I can't wait!!
Might have to get a health cooler to celebrate :)
Sweet As Sweet Can Be
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Sometimes I need to think before I say something stupid. It's a trait that runs in my family... right, Mamasan...? :):):)
Anyhoo... apparently, I spoke too soon yesterday. The doc said that we should keep up the drops for 24 hours after the eyes have been clear. Which we did. But. We arrived at daycare to pick Beaner and Doodle up last night - and Doodle (that's Eve, just in case you didn't know) has gunk in her eye, again. Still not sure why DB (that's Daycare Betty, just in case you didn't know) didn't call us... but we've started the drop regimen all over again, on both of them, in hopes that this will Finally Go Away. No one else is showing any symptoms, yet. But I'm not going to count my cows before they calve. Or something.
So I tell Beaner (that's Josie, just in case you didn't know) to come get her drops, and she dutifully listens and comes to lay her head on my lap. That's the smoothest part. Then it's a struggle to get her to lie still, to not squinchy her eyes shut so hard that there is no hope in the world any of the drops will seep in and to keep her arms and hands out of my way. But we finally succeed without too much flailing around, and she gets up like it was a walk in the park and says in the sweetest little voice, "Thank you, Mommy."
Number of the day: 7. School bus count on trek to daycare this morning: 7. Ah ha ha! 7 school buses.
Anyhoo... apparently, I spoke too soon yesterday. The doc said that we should keep up the drops for 24 hours after the eyes have been clear. Which we did. But. We arrived at daycare to pick Beaner and Doodle up last night - and Doodle (that's Eve, just in case you didn't know) has gunk in her eye, again. Still not sure why DB (that's Daycare Betty, just in case you didn't know) didn't call us... but we've started the drop regimen all over again, on both of them, in hopes that this will Finally Go Away. No one else is showing any symptoms, yet. But I'm not going to count my cows before they calve. Or something.
So I tell Beaner (that's Josie, just in case you didn't know) to come get her drops, and she dutifully listens and comes to lay her head on my lap. That's the smoothest part. Then it's a struggle to get her to lie still, to not squinchy her eyes shut so hard that there is no hope in the world any of the drops will seep in and to keep her arms and hands out of my way. But we finally succeed without too much flailing around, and she gets up like it was a walk in the park and says in the sweetest little voice, "Thank you, Mommy."
Number of the day: 7. School bus count on trek to daycare this morning: 7. Ah ha ha! 7 school buses.
From Rosey to Pinky...
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
We've survived our first bout with pink eye. Jo fell victim on Thursday, with a confirmed diagnosis on Friday, and Eve followed suit on Saturday. What an annoying little distraction that is. The drops, the eye goo... but it's over now, and hopefully we didn't infect anyone. And we're crossing our fingers that it has run it's course at daycare and we don't get it back...
What a fun and busy end-of-summer shabang we've been having - well, other than eye infections. During the last week we: attended a birthday party, went to a concert at the State Fair, (thank you thank you thank you to Trishy for babysitting for us - sounds like the dog was way more work than the kids!) spent an entire day eating our way through the Fair and sitting in every new vehicle on every car lot there, took in a Twins game, and attended a mini-family reunion at my Gram's place.
And in between all that fun, Eve has started to climb on everything from the coffee table to the toilet to the dog. She's so pleased with herself. I'm glad someone is. :)
The first day of school is here - and while we aren't a part of the hoopla quite yet, Josie is thrilled, nonetheless. Because now there are lots of school buses to watch for on the ride to daycare, again. I saw a little girl walking to the bus stop with her mom this morning all decked out in her new shoes, Dora backpack and box of Kleenex tucked under her arm. Got a little teary-eyed thinking that will be us in not too long.
What a fun and busy end-of-summer shabang we've been having - well, other than eye infections. During the last week we: attended a birthday party, went to a concert at the State Fair, (thank you thank you thank you to Trishy for babysitting for us - sounds like the dog was way more work than the kids!) spent an entire day eating our way through the Fair and sitting in every new vehicle on every car lot there, took in a Twins game, and attended a mini-family reunion at my Gram's place.
And in between all that fun, Eve has started to climb on everything from the coffee table to the toilet to the dog. She's so pleased with herself. I'm glad someone is. :)
The first day of school is here - and while we aren't a part of the hoopla quite yet, Josie is thrilled, nonetheless. Because now there are lots of school buses to watch for on the ride to daycare, again. I saw a little girl walking to the bus stop with her mom this morning all decked out in her new shoes, Dora backpack and box of Kleenex tucked under her arm. Got a little teary-eyed thinking that will be us in not too long.
I once heard of a little girl who wouldn't smile for pictures at her sister's wedding... OR How history repeats itself...
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Hey Na, Hey Na
Monday, August 27, 2007
I didn't realize that Eve missed her daddy so much, until he got back from Madden's Friday afternoon (a full 2 and 1/2 hours earlier than I expected him!) and she would not let him put her down for about 4 hours. You couldn't wipe the smile off her face, and she kept burying her face in his shoulder. Sometimes, I think we have it so ingrained in our heads that Josie is "daddy's girl" that we fail to make sure Evie is getting enough time with him, and Josie with me.
Many things in life are uncertain. But one thing I'm fairly certain I know FOR SURE - my children will never be America's Next Top Model. They are beautiful, but not pros in front of the camera as some kids their ages are. See my friend Nikki's blog for perfect examples (and just to enjoy a couple of darn cute kids!) Granted, the end result is not always indicative of the experience as a whole, and I don't know what goes on behind the scenes during others' appointments. But for some reason, we keep subjecting ourselves to the terror of professional photographs. Gluttons for punishment? Apparently. We just want to be "good parents" and capture these months for our girls that go by so quickly. But between the one that wouldn't stand still, sit still or hold still and the other who wouldn't crack a genuine smile - we had ourselves one doosey of an appointment at Target on Saturday. It got quite comical towards the end, and we found ourselves laughing... good thing - or we probably would have been crying. We did end up with a couple of pretty cute pix... so the whole thing wasn't a wash. Maybe in a couple of years it will be different and I'll be eating my words. We'll see. Until then - the photographers at Target will be cringing when they see us coming!
Josie loves to draw pictures. Lately - her favorite subject matter is "the broken bridge." I wasn't quite sure I heard her correctly the first time she told me what she was drawing. But sure enough - she said it again. She must have seen something on tv at daycare - or they talked about it there, because she hasn't had any exposure to the coverage of it at home. It was a little disconcerting at first - but I guess this is a good lesson for us that we can't shelter them from everything.
Cute Josie story from yesterday - I had gotten done putting groceries away last night, and was starting to clean up the house before bedtime. Pat was getting Evie in her jammies, and probably changing another yucky-poopy diaper (the little doodle is working on about 4 new teeth all at once; they're the pointy ones next to the front four on top and bottom - are those the incisors?) and Josie was at the kitchen table when all of the sudden she came busting into the hallway yelling "OH NO! Look what Brewster did!! Brewster ate my pudding!!" She was holding an empty snack-pack carton that I had failed to throw away and must have left laying on the floor by the pantry. Her pudding snacks were safely tucked away in the cupboard, but she assumed by the empty container that Brewster had eaten all of her pudding. And in her little world - that would have been a tragedy of mammoth proportions. So I had to take her to the pantry and show her the pudding before she believed us that Brewster had not been a bad dog. This time, at least!
Many things in life are uncertain. But one thing I'm fairly certain I know FOR SURE - my children will never be America's Next Top Model. They are beautiful, but not pros in front of the camera as some kids their ages are. See my friend Nikki's blog for perfect examples (and just to enjoy a couple of darn cute kids!) Granted, the end result is not always indicative of the experience as a whole, and I don't know what goes on behind the scenes during others' appointments. But for some reason, we keep subjecting ourselves to the terror of professional photographs. Gluttons for punishment? Apparently. We just want to be "good parents" and capture these months for our girls that go by so quickly. But between the one that wouldn't stand still, sit still or hold still and the other who wouldn't crack a genuine smile - we had ourselves one doosey of an appointment at Target on Saturday. It got quite comical towards the end, and we found ourselves laughing... good thing - or we probably would have been crying. We did end up with a couple of pretty cute pix... so the whole thing wasn't a wash. Maybe in a couple of years it will be different and I'll be eating my words. We'll see. Until then - the photographers at Target will be cringing when they see us coming!
Josie loves to draw pictures. Lately - her favorite subject matter is "the broken bridge." I wasn't quite sure I heard her correctly the first time she told me what she was drawing. But sure enough - she said it again. She must have seen something on tv at daycare - or they talked about it there, because she hasn't had any exposure to the coverage of it at home. It was a little disconcerting at first - but I guess this is a good lesson for us that we can't shelter them from everything.
Cute Josie story from yesterday - I had gotten done putting groceries away last night, and was starting to clean up the house before bedtime. Pat was getting Evie in her jammies, and probably changing another yucky-poopy diaper (the little doodle is working on about 4 new teeth all at once; they're the pointy ones next to the front four on top and bottom - are those the incisors?) and Josie was at the kitchen table when all of the sudden she came busting into the hallway yelling "OH NO! Look what Brewster did!! Brewster ate my pudding!!" She was holding an empty snack-pack carton that I had failed to throw away and must have left laying on the floor by the pantry. Her pudding snacks were safely tucked away in the cupboard, but she assumed by the empty container that Brewster had eaten all of her pudding. And in her little world - that would have been a tragedy of mammoth proportions. So I had to take her to the pantry and show her the pudding before she believed us that Brewster had not been a bad dog. This time, at least!
Ho Hum
Thursday, August 23, 2007
It's Thursday.
I'm eating my soup and breadsticks from Eddington's (chicken potato chowder, in case you were wondering) - it's definitely a soup kind of day out there - and wishing that I was home on the couch, under a blanket, snuggling with my girls. *sigh*
Patrick is on Day 2 of his Madden's-resort-work-conference-getaway-dealie. He left at 5:00 am yesterday morning, which means that this morning was the second morning that Josie woke up asking, "Where my Daddy go?" Brainerd just isn't a sufficient answer for a 2 1/2 year old. Neither is work, golfing, or on a business trip. The only answer I've found so far that stops the question is, "Madden's resort for a work conference." And I think that's only because it's too much of a mouthful for her to repeat. I get her stock reply of, "oh." Usually followed by, "Mommy, you snuggle me?" Snuggling is a very big deal in our house right now. It's a cure-all for owies, an effective stalling tactic before bed, and the perfect after-dinner activity.
So I've never had to get the girls ready in the morning before daycare and work by myself. I'm not sure how that has failed to happen until now. But it's gone very well, much to my surprise. Mainly due to the fact that I've been forced to get up on time and get in and out of the shower and be ready before they wake up. I'd be toast if that didn't happen. Sure does make me appreciate my husband. I'm one lucky gal. At least tomorrow I don't have to be somewhere by 7:30 am. And I can probably even get away without showering... Yesss! And even better, in the morning when Josie gets up, I can tell her that her daddy will be home today.
I haven't mentioned Josie's potty progress lately. Yup. She's potty trained. She has a very rare accident here and there - and sometimes we suspect it's on purpose so she can pick out new undies - and she can even make it all through the night and wake up dry. I'm still flabbergasted that it was so easy.
And Eve is our little walker now. She's all over the place. It's taken her a while to warm up to wearing shoes, but now she's off.
Hey - congrats to Jeff and Michelle on the birth of their daughter Anna Catherine on Tuesday. She's beautiful. They are one handsome little family :)
Hey, again - check out the counter I added to the sidebar. Now we can actually see how few people I'm writing for. :) Not that that's going to stop me.
I'm eating my soup and breadsticks from Eddington's (chicken potato chowder, in case you were wondering) - it's definitely a soup kind of day out there - and wishing that I was home on the couch, under a blanket, snuggling with my girls. *sigh*
Patrick is on Day 2 of his Madden's-resort-work-conference-getaway-dealie. He left at 5:00 am yesterday morning, which means that this morning was the second morning that Josie woke up asking, "Where my Daddy go?" Brainerd just isn't a sufficient answer for a 2 1/2 year old. Neither is work, golfing, or on a business trip. The only answer I've found so far that stops the question is, "Madden's resort for a work conference." And I think that's only because it's too much of a mouthful for her to repeat. I get her stock reply of, "oh." Usually followed by, "Mommy, you snuggle me?" Snuggling is a very big deal in our house right now. It's a cure-all for owies, an effective stalling tactic before bed, and the perfect after-dinner activity.
So I've never had to get the girls ready in the morning before daycare and work by myself. I'm not sure how that has failed to happen until now. But it's gone very well, much to my surprise. Mainly due to the fact that I've been forced to get up on time and get in and out of the shower and be ready before they wake up. I'd be toast if that didn't happen. Sure does make me appreciate my husband. I'm one lucky gal. At least tomorrow I don't have to be somewhere by 7:30 am. And I can probably even get away without showering... Yesss! And even better, in the morning when Josie gets up, I can tell her that her daddy will be home today.
I haven't mentioned Josie's potty progress lately. Yup. She's potty trained. She has a very rare accident here and there - and sometimes we suspect it's on purpose so she can pick out new undies - and she can even make it all through the night and wake up dry. I'm still flabbergasted that it was so easy.
And Eve is our little walker now. She's all over the place. It's taken her a while to warm up to wearing shoes, but now she's off.
Hey - congrats to Jeff and Michelle on the birth of their daughter Anna Catherine on Tuesday. She's beautiful. They are one handsome little family :)
Hey, again - check out the counter I added to the sidebar. Now we can actually see how few people I'm writing for. :) Not that that's going to stop me.
Josie-isms
Monday, August 20, 2007
I'm a big fan of Lucyisms. I've been compiling a list of cute things Jo has been saying, and it's not convenient for me to log everything into the calendar that I keep in my purse, so I've decided I should probably get this stuff in writing before I lose the list. While the humor may be lost on, well, pretty much anyone who isn't her parent (!), I hope you enjoy, nonetheless.
_________________________________
"Yes, Josie?"
"Evie doesn't have paws. She have feets. Just like me!"
___________________________________________
(Brewster is a large dog. With a large tail.)
"DaaaAAdddDDY... Brewster WHACKED me!!!"
_______________________________________
(I don't even know the context of this conversation. But this is what I overheard from the kitchen...)
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Josie..."
"Daddy - you mad at me?"
"No. I'm not mad at you."
"Daddy - you pooping?"
___________________________
(While riding in the van. Pat was driving - chauffeur-style. I was in the backseat, with Jo.)
"Daddy a good driver. GOOD EYE, Daddy! Good eye!"
________________________________________
(Pat was away in Duluth for the weekend. The girls and I were watching the Twins on tv.)
"Hey! That's my Daddy on tv!" (I looked up and there's Justin Morneau coming up to bat. Hmm... *wink, wink*)
____________________________________
(Same tv session. I was flipping channels. Men's beach volleyball was on. The players were being introduced.)
"Mommy!! They're NAKED!"
________________________
(We were getting set to leave the house before daycare / work in the morning. Josie was alone in the kitchen, Pat was letting Brewster out, I was finding coats for the girls. All of the sudden, Jo started yelling, like something was really wrong.)
"DAAADDDDY! DAAADDDDY!"
Pat went running into the kitchen. "What, Josie??!"
Silence for a couple of moments. "Thanks, Daddy." Apparently - she just wanted to make sure he was listening. :)
___________________________
(Buttoning up Jo's raincoat before leaving for daycare / work.)
"Mommy?"
"Yes, Josie?"
"We going to the Mall?"
"Nooo, we're going to Betty's house."
"OH." giggles. "Silly Me!"
________________________
(We have frequent dance breaks at home. Jo stops whatever she's doing, and just starts dancing. One of her moves is a "pony dance." She was having a dance break in the kitchen this morning. Pat told her to "ride that pony, Josie!" Then I walked into the kitchen. Without missing a beat...)
"RIDE THAT PONY, MOMMY! RIDE THAT PONY!"
_______________________________________
(Another one of her patented dance moves is the "bootie dance." She and Pat will bend over and shake their booties at me. While shaking it...)
"Mommy... look at ours butts!"
_________________________
(She has moments of affection for her little sister. She'll hug and kiss Eve...)
"Mommy - Evie my BEST friend!"
(Jo and Pat had gone out and about to run errands, and she came back in the house with a flourish, announcing her arrival...)
Jo: "MOMMY! Heeeeewwwwwooooowww!"
me: "Well, hi. I missed you!"
Jo: "You did?!"
me: "I did. You know why?"
Jo: "Why, Mommy?"
me: "'Cuz I love you."
Jo: "You wuv me?"
me: "I do."
Jo: "Oh." End of conversation. :)
____________________________
(Daddy was barking. This upset Jo.)
"Daddy - you not a puppy. You a BOY."_________________________________
(We were having a discussion about thumbs. Then hands and feet. We asked Jo if Brewster had hands and feet. Then we had to talk about paws for a while. She was quiet for bit, we could tell she was mulling all of this over.)
"Mommy.""Yes, Josie?"
"Evie doesn't have paws. She have feets. Just like me!"
___________________________________________
(Brewster is a large dog. With a large tail.)
"DaaaAAdddDDY... Brewster WHACKED me!!!"
_______________________________________
(I don't even know the context of this conversation. But this is what I overheard from the kitchen...)
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Josie..."
"Daddy - you mad at me?"
"No. I'm not mad at you."
"Daddy - you pooping?"
___________________________
(While riding in the van. Pat was driving - chauffeur-style. I was in the backseat, with Jo.)
"Daddy a good driver. GOOD EYE, Daddy! Good eye!"
________________________________________
(Pat was away in Duluth for the weekend. The girls and I were watching the Twins on tv.)
"Hey! That's my Daddy on tv!" (I looked up and there's Justin Morneau coming up to bat. Hmm... *wink, wink*)
____________________________________
(Same tv session. I was flipping channels. Men's beach volleyball was on. The players were being introduced.)
"Mommy!! They're NAKED!"
________________________
(We were getting set to leave the house before daycare / work in the morning. Josie was alone in the kitchen, Pat was letting Brewster out, I was finding coats for the girls. All of the sudden, Jo started yelling, like something was really wrong.)
"DAAADDDDY! DAAADDDDY!"
Pat went running into the kitchen. "What, Josie??!"
Silence for a couple of moments. "Thanks, Daddy." Apparently - she just wanted to make sure he was listening. :)
___________________________
(Buttoning up Jo's raincoat before leaving for daycare / work.)
"Mommy?"
"Yes, Josie?"
"We going to the Mall?"
"Nooo, we're going to Betty's house."
"OH." giggles. "Silly Me!"
________________________
(We have frequent dance breaks at home. Jo stops whatever she's doing, and just starts dancing. One of her moves is a "pony dance." She was having a dance break in the kitchen this morning. Pat told her to "ride that pony, Josie!" Then I walked into the kitchen. Without missing a beat...)
"RIDE THAT PONY, MOMMY! RIDE THAT PONY!"
_______________________________________
(Another one of her patented dance moves is the "bootie dance." She and Pat will bend over and shake their booties at me. While shaking it...)
"Mommy... look at ours butts!"
_________________________
(She has moments of affection for her little sister. She'll hug and kiss Eve...)
"Mommy - Evie my BEST friend!"
More Cowbell
Monday, August 13, 2007
Josie's wish for "more cows" was fulfilled over the weekend. Not only did she get her bovine-wish-come-true when we visited my mom and Erwin in Newburg on Thursday, but she saw almost more horses than she could have hoped for during the annual Western Days celebration in Chatfield Friday thru Sunday.
It was a hot one, though, so that did put a damper on our spirits as it was hard to even enjoy being outside much. But we took in the parade, and Jo had her fill of candy... or should we say her parents' fill of candy, since we had a very sugared up 2 year old on Saturday night. She's a bit of a mean drunk when she's had too much sugar - even told me she didn't love me when I was trying to make her put on her jammies. Although she was very remorseful not too long afterwards and gave me plenty of snuggling to make up for it. :)
We belatedly celebrated Evie's 1st birthday with my family on Sunday - and she graced us with 7 or 8 consecutive steps across the kitchen floor - giggling maniacally the whole time! Of course, Sunday was her day to be all hopped up on the sugar as she whole-heartedly dove into a cupcake with chocolate frosting. She's beside herself with excitement over her new walking trick, and continued to take more and more steps once we arrived home last night. It was a weekend full of late nights and off-kilter nap times... I truly think they were both relieved to walk through the door at Betty's this morning to some normalcy in their routine. But they enjoyed their weekend at Amma-Ue and Youin's and KayBob's house and will be very excited to go back soon!
Speaking of walking through the door... we had a bit of a tough time doing just that when we arrived home last night, as the storm that blew through town also blew over two sections of the privacy fence on the west side of our yard. I'm sure Old Crusty was having a coronary envisioning that birch tree busting through her roof - it's a good thing that the fence isn't on her side of our yard to really top off her anxiety attacks. Oh - and the ole birch is still standing strong. :) So take that, oh crusty one.
It was a hot one, though, so that did put a damper on our spirits as it was hard to even enjoy being outside much. But we took in the parade, and Jo had her fill of candy... or should we say her parents' fill of candy, since we had a very sugared up 2 year old on Saturday night. She's a bit of a mean drunk when she's had too much sugar - even told me she didn't love me when I was trying to make her put on her jammies. Although she was very remorseful not too long afterwards and gave me plenty of snuggling to make up for it. :)
We belatedly celebrated Evie's 1st birthday with my family on Sunday - and she graced us with 7 or 8 consecutive steps across the kitchen floor - giggling maniacally the whole time! Of course, Sunday was her day to be all hopped up on the sugar as she whole-heartedly dove into a cupcake with chocolate frosting. She's beside herself with excitement over her new walking trick, and continued to take more and more steps once we arrived home last night. It was a weekend full of late nights and off-kilter nap times... I truly think they were both relieved to walk through the door at Betty's this morning to some normalcy in their routine. But they enjoyed their weekend at Amma-Ue and Youin's and KayBob's house and will be very excited to go back soon!
Speaking of walking through the door... we had a bit of a tough time doing just that when we arrived home last night, as the storm that blew through town also blew over two sections of the privacy fence on the west side of our yard. I'm sure Old Crusty was having a coronary envisioning that birch tree busting through her roof - it's a good thing that the fence isn't on her side of our yard to really top off her anxiety attacks. Oh - and the ole birch is still standing strong. :) So take that, oh crusty one.
It's been a week already?
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Since last we spoke:
- The 35W bridge collapsed. I was at happy hour with friends, one of which had just driven over the bridge 20 minutes before. I'm thankful that my friends and family are safe, and sorry for those who can't say the same. But I have to say that I'm a bit horrified at those who try to compare this tragic event, an accident, to 9/11. I blame the intensive media coverage. Let the recovery workers to their work without sensationalizing and dramatizing every aspect of the efforts.
- On a much different note - Josie successfully dropped her kids off at the pool. Made a $2.00 deposit in the bank of potty. She pooped. In the toilet, that is. We were playdating at the Gronaus' and she spent the entire time going in and out of the bathroom. It's still a novelty to her. Granted, she does actually "go" every time she goes... even a droplet, so it's hard to chastise her for wasting toilet paper or running up the water bill. But "number 2" had been an issue... until last Friday. Yahoo! I daresay that we are on our way to being rid of diapers for one kid. She's been doing so wonderfully... only 3 or 4 accidents since starting to wear big girl undies over a week ago. She's been napping without a diaper since then, as well, and a couple of nights ago asked not to wear a diaper to bed, too. And she made it all night without an accident. I'm still amazed that we're actually in the midst of the much-feared and much-dreaded Potty-Training. And it's not nearly as scary as I imagined. :)
- Pat left us. For the weekend. He had a softball tournament in Duluth, so I was a "single" parent for the entire weekend. Needless to say, I was really tired come Sunday evening. But the girls survived without their daddy, and we had a very lovely time. We ran errands, played and played, went to the Twin Cities Public Television's 50th anniversary event in downtown St. Paul - and very quickly left as it was INSANELY crowded, played in Mears park with friends, and went to Culver's to celebrate Josie's potty success. It was nice to get some one-on-one time with the girls, and to move up a notch on the snuggling and story-time ladder. Josie actually had to think about it when we asked her who she wanted to read books with the other night. Usually, it's a slam-dunk for Daddy. Granted, I think she still ended up going with Daddy - but at least she had to think about it for a minute :)
- I got to use our "season tickets" for the Twins for the first time Monday night. We split a flex package with some friends of ours, and up until now, Pat was the only one of us to use the tickets - well, except for a couple of bobblehead games, I guess, but we rarely get to actually go to the game, or if we do, to see much of it. I have to say, that was the first time I've SEEN an entire game in a really long time, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I watched the whole thing, and even kept score (Meg - I think I'm hooked!) - for the Twins, at least. Way too much to ask of me to have to pay attention for the other guys, too! When am I supposed to do my people-watching?
- Eve has started to make animal noises. Man, she's stinkin' cute. "Woof" is "uffff," and "meow" is "maaaw." She is over her bout of roseola, and finally has her appetite back. Little peanut couldn't afford to lose much more weight. But she's happy and healthy again, much to our relief. She's going to be a climber. She's constantly trying to climb on Josie's bed, and loves to climb into the kid-sized chairs in the living room, turn herself around, sit down and give us a look like "what are you going to do about it?!"
- My mom's husband, Erwin, received the great news that he is in remission. Thanks to everyone who sent good wishes their way!
And that's about it. We're gearing up for a fun-filled weekend in Newburg and Chatfield. It's Western Days time already! I probably won't check in again until next week... so have a good one!
Not So "Rosey"
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Remember how I said that Eve was my crabby little bear all weekend and had a fever?
Yeah.
So Monday night when we pick her up from daycare, she had this weird rash. Hmm. From the heat? We didn't know. Still had it yesterday. Pretty bad on her back, front and head. The daycare lady got suspicious, got out her little book of kid ailments and says, "Roseola!" And she was right. Who knew? I feel really naive about this stuff sometimes. Heard of it - but had no clue what it was. Pat did take her in to be checked out and they confirmed our self-diagnosis. It's much lighter today. Poor little bugger. She's had no appetite at all, has been miserably sad and her nose has been as runny as runny can be. Add teething to the mix - and woo-hoo! Instant party.
Yeah.
So Monday night when we pick her up from daycare, she had this weird rash. Hmm. From the heat? We didn't know. Still had it yesterday. Pretty bad on her back, front and head. The daycare lady got suspicious, got out her little book of kid ailments and says, "Roseola!" And she was right. Who knew? I feel really naive about this stuff sometimes. Heard of it - but had no clue what it was. Pat did take her in to be checked out and they confirmed our self-diagnosis. It's much lighter today. Poor little bugger. She's had no appetite at all, has been miserably sad and her nose has been as runny as runny can be. Add teething to the mix - and woo-hoo! Instant party.
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