Perhaps the exclamation point was a clue that bedtime tonight went well. It also went off early. !!!
Oh, and I should also mention that Little Miss Zoey HAS figured out how to get out of bed on her own...Bryan went to check on her this afternoon and found her quietly pulling all the books off her bookshelf and looking quite pleased with herself. Luckily this was after a two-hour (much-needed) nap.
Tragically (for Zoey), two hours in the afternoon was NOT enough shut-eye to recoup the losses from last night, and when she had an ultimate melt down at the dinner table, Bryan and I knew we were on our way to an early bedtime. Hooray!
It. Went. So. WELL.
We did everything we normally do--rocking in the rocking chair, warm milk (which Zoey has now started demanding in the bossy way of toddlers: "Dada! Milk! HOT!"), stories in bed. Plenty of time to guggle Mommy. Also, in a new twist, she wanted to read to ME tonight, which was totally adorable. She garbled her way through two dinosaur stories and looked quite proud of herself. Then it was kisses and hugs and tucking in with Mr. Owl and plenty of story books. There were tears. But they lasted for approximately 45 seconds and we have heard nothing but blessed silence from her room since 7 p.m.
Aaaahhhhhh.....
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Update: Naptime.
For whatever reason, Zoey made it until noon before finally crashing for a nap. I just peeked in on her, and she is OUT. AND it only took 15 minutes for her to fall asleep AND she remained in bed.
Do you suppose she just hasn't figured out yet that she can get herself up whenever she feels like it? I would imagine that's the next hurdle we have to clear, although for the moment I am remaining thankful that she no longer seems terrified by the thought of sleeping in her bed.
Oh, and when I went to sit down on the bed to read her stories, one of the boards supporting the mattress crashed through to the floor. Awesome. Luckily, it only took a few minutes of consoling to convince Zoey that it was only Mommy's fat ass that had caused the loud crash, and that all was well as long as you only weigh 30 pounds and need to sleep in the bed.
Am second guessing the choice of a hand-me-down death-trap as our child's first bed.
Will be consulting IKEA.com for prices of twin beds and mattresses while Zoey is sleeping.
Do you suppose she just hasn't figured out yet that she can get herself up whenever she feels like it? I would imagine that's the next hurdle we have to clear, although for the moment I am remaining thankful that she no longer seems terrified by the thought of sleeping in her bed.
Oh, and when I went to sit down on the bed to read her stories, one of the boards supporting the mattress crashed through to the floor. Awesome. Luckily, it only took a few minutes of consoling to convince Zoey that it was only Mommy's fat ass that had caused the loud crash, and that all was well as long as you only weigh 30 pounds and need to sleep in the bed.
Am second guessing the choice of a hand-me-down death-trap as our child's first bed.
Will be consulting IKEA.com for prices of twin beds and mattresses while Zoey is sleeping.
Sleepless in Vancouver
Okay.
Last night was NOT the raging success I had hoped for.
First of all, setting up the bed proved to be all kinds of problems, as Zoey's room suddenly seemed like it was only roughly larger than a prison cell--all the furniture needed to be rearranged in order to make room for the big girl bed. (Another thing I'm looking forward to in our new house? BIGGER BEDROOMS.) Of course, the initial set-up did not begin until after 7 p.m. which TOTALLY wound Zoey up instead of helping her settle in for the night...Daddy is moving furniture! Installing a new trampoline for me to play on! Hooray! Also, the smell? From the residual paint fumes? Horrible. I couldn't tell if my headache was coming from trying to cram too much furniture in to a space that is much too small, or if it was a side effect of all the brain cells the paint fumes were killing.
The second problem proved to be the SIZE of the bed frame, and the mattress. Which is to say, the mattress looks like it's about 6 inches smaller than it needs to be to fit correctly on the frame. And after nearly two years of reading Parents magazine and hearing lectures from my pediatrician on the importance of having a mattress fit squarely in a crib/bed frame, I was convinced that if the paint fumes didn't kill our child, she would surely fall between the wall and the mattress and suffocate.
Needless to say, it was well past 8:00 by the time I had crammed the mattress WAY against the wall, covered the opposite side of the bed frame with an old quilt (Death Trap #3: rolling from the mattress, smacking herself against the exposed metal frame, and tumbling to the hardwood floor beneath), and opened both windows in the bedroom in an attempt to air out the fumes.
By 9:00, Zoey was bathed and seemed quite content to sit on her bed flipping through her books. Excellent! We were well on our way to a good night's sleep!
Until roughly 9:15, when I turned out the light and left the room.
Much screaming and crying ensued, as my husband shot me pointed looks from the couch which obviously said he knew this was going to happen. Pffft. I returned to our daughter's room to console her. (I'd like to point out that, while she cried and seemed terrified of her new digs, she did NOT get out of the bed and come to find us. Small victories.) I layed down with her for awhile. We listened through the open windows as the kids next door apparently played outside. (Seriously? 10:00 at night, playing outside, LITTLE kids? Disturbing.) I tucked her in again. More tears. What to do? Let her cry it out, on the first night? Lay with her until she dropped off to sleep?
I had to buy some time. So I let her get up and have a snack.
I know.
Finally, at 10:47, Zoey and Bryan were BOTH fast asleep in her bed. I woke Bryan up and sent him downstairs, while I made myself comfy in the extra bedroom right next to Zoey's. I figured that, if the night didn't go well, I might as well be close by.
As I tucked her in, it struck me just how TINY she looked, sleeping in her big girl bed.
I guess the actual getting to sleep was the problem, because she slept until 6:15 this morning. I am not counting this as a victory, as 7 1/2 hours of sleep does NOT a happy toddler make. Let's just say it will be an early nap time today. For both of us.
Last night was NOT the raging success I had hoped for.
First of all, setting up the bed proved to be all kinds of problems, as Zoey's room suddenly seemed like it was only roughly larger than a prison cell--all the furniture needed to be rearranged in order to make room for the big girl bed. (Another thing I'm looking forward to in our new house? BIGGER BEDROOMS.) Of course, the initial set-up did not begin until after 7 p.m. which TOTALLY wound Zoey up instead of helping her settle in for the night...Daddy is moving furniture! Installing a new trampoline for me to play on! Hooray! Also, the smell? From the residual paint fumes? Horrible. I couldn't tell if my headache was coming from trying to cram too much furniture in to a space that is much too small, or if it was a side effect of all the brain cells the paint fumes were killing.
The second problem proved to be the SIZE of the bed frame, and the mattress. Which is to say, the mattress looks like it's about 6 inches smaller than it needs to be to fit correctly on the frame. And after nearly two years of reading Parents magazine and hearing lectures from my pediatrician on the importance of having a mattress fit squarely in a crib/bed frame, I was convinced that if the paint fumes didn't kill our child, she would surely fall between the wall and the mattress and suffocate.
Needless to say, it was well past 8:00 by the time I had crammed the mattress WAY against the wall, covered the opposite side of the bed frame with an old quilt (Death Trap #3: rolling from the mattress, smacking herself against the exposed metal frame, and tumbling to the hardwood floor beneath), and opened both windows in the bedroom in an attempt to air out the fumes.
By 9:00, Zoey was bathed and seemed quite content to sit on her bed flipping through her books. Excellent! We were well on our way to a good night's sleep!
Until roughly 9:15, when I turned out the light and left the room.
Much screaming and crying ensued, as my husband shot me pointed looks from the couch which obviously said he knew this was going to happen. Pffft. I returned to our daughter's room to console her. (I'd like to point out that, while she cried and seemed terrified of her new digs, she did NOT get out of the bed and come to find us. Small victories.) I layed down with her for awhile. We listened through the open windows as the kids next door apparently played outside. (Seriously? 10:00 at night, playing outside, LITTLE kids? Disturbing.) I tucked her in again. More tears. What to do? Let her cry it out, on the first night? Lay with her until she dropped off to sleep?
I had to buy some time. So I let her get up and have a snack.
I know.
Finally, at 10:47, Zoey and Bryan were BOTH fast asleep in her bed. I woke Bryan up and sent him downstairs, while I made myself comfy in the extra bedroom right next to Zoey's. I figured that, if the night didn't go well, I might as well be close by.
As I tucked her in, it struck me just how TINY she looked, sleeping in her big girl bed.
I guess the actual getting to sleep was the problem, because she slept until 6:15 this morning. I am not counting this as a victory, as 7 1/2 hours of sleep does NOT a happy toddler make. Let's just say it will be an early nap time today. For both of us.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
It's a big, big day...
...for a big, big girl who is about to get her very own BIG GIRL BED!
That's right, Zoey is currently napping--possibly for the last time, ever--in her crib, which we plan to replace tonight with a twin-sized bed. This weekend, while we were in Puyallup for Thanksgiving, Bryan picked up a twin bed frame and mattress from his mom's house. (Heather was looking to down-size her amount of furniture at the perfect time for us. Many thanks!!)
So, right now, Bryan is outside probably getting high on paint fumes as he spray paints the black metal frame with a much prettier shade of eggshell. No matter that it is a little drizzly outside and perhaps November is the wrong month to choose for painting furniture--unfortunately for my husband, I woke up this morning with the idea in my head that THIS will be the night we get Zoey in a big girl bed, and he (after 9 years of putting up with me) understands that it is best not to argue. He assures me the paint will be "dry enough" to bring in to her room this evening. We'll see.
(There's a method to my madness, at least a small one. My theory is this: do we really want to put Zoey in her big girl bed on a school/work night, and potentially spend every hour getting up with her to remind her that she needs to STAY in bed? Frankly, I'd rather tackle that obstacle on a Saturday night. And Alisa and JD, if you're reading this, I know what you're thinking...the first few nights of Finley's big boy bed experience were smooth as punch, until day three--or four?--when he discovered he could hop out of bed whenever he felt like it. I am not completely naive.)
At any rate, I am excited for Zoey to make this big leap in to big girl territory! I firmly believe that our days are limited in which she will stay put in her crib...and knowing our child, she'll become an Olympic pole vaulter in the middle of any night now, and end up with yet another broken bone. So, with that in mind, Zoey and I trekked to Target today and picked out sheets and blankets for her new bed. (All of this amidst great excitement and talking-up of the big girl bed...lucky for us, Adley made the switch to her own big girl bed this past week, so Zoey has some frame of reference to measure all this excitement against.)
Here's hoping that she'll STAY in bed tonight!
That's right, Zoey is currently napping--possibly for the last time, ever--in her crib, which we plan to replace tonight with a twin-sized bed. This weekend, while we were in Puyallup for Thanksgiving, Bryan picked up a twin bed frame and mattress from his mom's house. (Heather was looking to down-size her amount of furniture at the perfect time for us. Many thanks!!)
So, right now, Bryan is outside probably getting high on paint fumes as he spray paints the black metal frame with a much prettier shade of eggshell. No matter that it is a little drizzly outside and perhaps November is the wrong month to choose for painting furniture--unfortunately for my husband, I woke up this morning with the idea in my head that THIS will be the night we get Zoey in a big girl bed, and he (after 9 years of putting up with me) understands that it is best not to argue. He assures me the paint will be "dry enough" to bring in to her room this evening. We'll see.
(There's a method to my madness, at least a small one. My theory is this: do we really want to put Zoey in her big girl bed on a school/work night, and potentially spend every hour getting up with her to remind her that she needs to STAY in bed? Frankly, I'd rather tackle that obstacle on a Saturday night. And Alisa and JD, if you're reading this, I know what you're thinking...the first few nights of Finley's big boy bed experience were smooth as punch, until day three--or four?--when he discovered he could hop out of bed whenever he felt like it. I am not completely naive.)
At any rate, I am excited for Zoey to make this big leap in to big girl territory! I firmly believe that our days are limited in which she will stay put in her crib...and knowing our child, she'll become an Olympic pole vaulter in the middle of any night now, and end up with yet another broken bone. So, with that in mind, Zoey and I trekked to Target today and picked out sheets and blankets for her new bed. (All of this amidst great excitement and talking-up of the big girl bed...lucky for us, Adley made the switch to her own big girl bed this past week, so Zoey has some frame of reference to measure all this excitement against.)
Here's hoping that she'll STAY in bed tonight!
Friday, November 28, 2008
Too creative for my own stinking good.
The owl birthday party is coming along nicely, if I do say so myself.
After a double-tall latte at Starbucks this morning, my mom and I were off and running to Toys R Us, Target, and Michaels, all in search of the things I needed to complete Zoey's birthday party plans. The picture on the left shows the treat bag we designed nearly completely from the dollar rack at Target, as well as the owl-adorned muffin cup liners that we'll use to hold two of Zoey's favorite snacks--mandarin orange slices and Goldfish crackers--at the party table. On the right, you can see the special "owl crown" I designed. Apparently this is THE new fashion statement, as I can hear Zoey protesting (loudly) in her bedroom as Bryan tries to convince her to take OFF the crown before bed. (By the sounds of it, I'd say Zoey might be winning that argument.)
So, the reminder I'm needing right now is this: WHY am I in the nursing profession, when I am so clearly cut out to design things like owl-themed parties for two year olds?
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Chalk another one up for Teacher Melina!
I don't want to brag or anything, but....okay, maybe I do. Just for a minute.
Zoey has been singing her ABC's this past week! On Monday I just thought it was cute, as she would chant "A, B, C....G!", then look at us triumphantly and wait for the ensuing praise that Bryan and I would lavish on her. By Wednesday, we had worked our way up to Letter H, all in the correct order. And today, Bryan swears she made it to Letter P, with only minor stumbling over that pesky L-M-N-O rapid-fire sequence. I can hear her in her crib right now, singing herself to sleep with the ABC's, and other favorites: "All day long!" (from The Wheels on the Bus), "Boom boom boom! Ya Ya Ya!" (from some random song that Ari loves), and, of course, the ABC's. I'm so proud of her.
And yet, I feel as if I had very little to do with this progress!
That's right, I need to give credit where credit is due, and I believe this one goes to Teacher Melina. I'm not really a mom who believes that her toddler needs to have serious time with flash cards and word association games at home. It has also been well established that I am NOT a singer. And let's face it: if you ask Zoey who sings the ABC's with her, she'll smile shyly and say "Cheecher 'Nina". I think it's totally adorable and a little amazing that she has spent only two months in preschool and has caught on to so many things, from singing to sitting still for long periods of time to creating vast quantities of art work involving glitter. (She proudly presents me with her brown triangle with the blue glitter, every morning, and reports "'Tangle! Shake shake shake, gitter! Cheecher 'Nina!")
Maybe this is just normal development for a child who is just shy of two years old. What with this being my first experience with toddlerhood, I really have no frame of reference. But I'm still just so...impressed.
Zoey has been singing her ABC's this past week! On Monday I just thought it was cute, as she would chant "A, B, C....G!", then look at us triumphantly and wait for the ensuing praise that Bryan and I would lavish on her. By Wednesday, we had worked our way up to Letter H, all in the correct order. And today, Bryan swears she made it to Letter P, with only minor stumbling over that pesky L-M-N-O rapid-fire sequence. I can hear her in her crib right now, singing herself to sleep with the ABC's, and other favorites: "All day long!" (from The Wheels on the Bus), "Boom boom boom! Ya Ya Ya!" (from some random song that Ari loves), and, of course, the ABC's. I'm so proud of her.
And yet, I feel as if I had very little to do with this progress!
That's right, I need to give credit where credit is due, and I believe this one goes to Teacher Melina. I'm not really a mom who believes that her toddler needs to have serious time with flash cards and word association games at home. It has also been well established that I am NOT a singer. And let's face it: if you ask Zoey who sings the ABC's with her, she'll smile shyly and say "Cheecher 'Nina". I think it's totally adorable and a little amazing that she has spent only two months in preschool and has caught on to so many things, from singing to sitting still for long periods of time to creating vast quantities of art work involving glitter. (She proudly presents me with her brown triangle with the blue glitter, every morning, and reports "'Tangle! Shake shake shake, gitter! Cheecher 'Nina!")
Maybe this is just normal development for a child who is just shy of two years old. What with this being my first experience with toddlerhood, I really have no frame of reference. But I'm still just so...impressed.
Where is that baby-bug, anyway?
It is nearly 8 a.m. and I am the only one awake in my house. (Except for the cats.) For whatever reason, I have not been able to sleep past 7:00 lately, although I suppose that could be because I rarely go to sleep later than 10:30 every night. Eight and a half hours of sleep really IS plenty, isn't it? (I am cringing as I think of my friends with newborns right now. I'm sure they will read this post and not want to be friends with me anymore. I do not blame them.)
That's one thing, actually, that has been on my mind lately...I am wondering when, exactly, the baby-bug is going to bite me again? As of right now, I have five close mommy-friends, all of whom have little ones Zoey's age. One brave soul, our dear friend Kim, just gave birth to her second baby boy on September 1. We have all monitored her progress with a mix of admiration and a little bit of, well, horror. That's RIGHT, newborns never sleep! They want to breastfeed all the damn time! They burn through diapers left and right....and....she has a two-year-old to contend with! Big brother Brady has to be closely watched to make sure he doesn't squash baby brother Colby's head...they rarely nap at the same time in a day...I, for one, had forgotten just a little bit how traumatic and exhausting it is to have a newborn in your life. (And don't get me wrong, Colby is fantastic. I love to hold him, snuggle him, and give him right back to Kim. Also, I changed his diaper last week and was reminded of another joy of newborns--that sticky yellow poop that everyone SWEARS doesn't stink, because it comes from breastmilk! Who started that lie? And why do we continue to pass it around? And how in the name of God does it get stuck in so many tiny crevices of tiny-baby-skin-folds?)
Anyway. We Mommy-friends have offered up our support and several dinners to Kim--we even manage to get her out of the house for a coffee date or a play date every now and then. But really, in watching all this, I have been thinking how incredibly happy I am with my life RIGHT NOW. I have no desire to add to our family at this point. I do not miss pregnancy--let's just say I was never one to "glow" with the joy of carrying a child. Which is another myth I'd love find the originator of (a man, no doubt), and punch him. I did not fall in love with breastfeeding, nor did my social-butterfly child, who couldn't stand the thought of missing ANY action and would whip herself away from me at the slightest peep in the room, leaving me to expose myself to more than half of Clark County. I also do not miss the days of not being able to shower until noon (and with your second, do you ever get a shower at all?), only to get out and put on a fresh pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. I do not function well on sleep-deprivation-mode. I become snarky and I cry at the drop of a hat. I do not miss the days of wanting to beat my husband over the head with a pillow all because he is merely sleeping through the night, and I am the one getting up every two hours. I am getting a migraine just thinking of all this.
And YET, since September, THREE of my Mommy friends have announced they are pregnant! Kelly is due in April, followed by Kate in May, and Rebecca in July! Insanity! Kendra and I remain the only hold-outs!
I know what you're thinking. There are so many wonderful things about having a new baby! They're so cute and snuggly, a miracle, etc etc. I just happen to be one of those people who correlates the term 'newborn' with 'stress'. Do not judge.
Here's the deal: if I could get pregnant and give birth to, say, a five-month-old, I'd sign up tomorrow. (After I polish off that bottle of red wine we opened for dinner last night.) Keep in mind that my first child never really took to breastfeeding and refused to nap longer than 30 minutes for the first 15 months of her life. I think it's generous of me to want a five-month-old, and not an eight-year-old. Because, really, sleep is what it's all about. I got over eight hours of sleep last night. I have been up for almost an hour now, happily sipping my coffee and answering emails, and I'm just starting to hear my child stirring in her room. I will go and get her up, change her, snuggle her for a bit, and then she will want to watch "the choo-choo show". (Mr. Rogers Neighborhood. The presence of the trolley car earned it the choo-choo title.) While she happily watches her show, I will happily leaf through my magazines and plan my menu for the week. Toddlers, temper tantrums aside, are fantastic creatures.
Why would I want to mess with this, my relatively new routine of sleep and happiness?
That's one thing, actually, that has been on my mind lately...I am wondering when, exactly, the baby-bug is going to bite me again? As of right now, I have five close mommy-friends, all of whom have little ones Zoey's age. One brave soul, our dear friend Kim, just gave birth to her second baby boy on September 1. We have all monitored her progress with a mix of admiration and a little bit of, well, horror. That's RIGHT, newborns never sleep! They want to breastfeed all the damn time! They burn through diapers left and right....and....she has a two-year-old to contend with! Big brother Brady has to be closely watched to make sure he doesn't squash baby brother Colby's head...they rarely nap at the same time in a day...I, for one, had forgotten just a little bit how traumatic and exhausting it is to have a newborn in your life. (And don't get me wrong, Colby is fantastic. I love to hold him, snuggle him, and give him right back to Kim. Also, I changed his diaper last week and was reminded of another joy of newborns--that sticky yellow poop that everyone SWEARS doesn't stink, because it comes from breastmilk! Who started that lie? And why do we continue to pass it around? And how in the name of God does it get stuck in so many tiny crevices of tiny-baby-skin-folds?)
Anyway. We Mommy-friends have offered up our support and several dinners to Kim--we even manage to get her out of the house for a coffee date or a play date every now and then. But really, in watching all this, I have been thinking how incredibly happy I am with my life RIGHT NOW. I have no desire to add to our family at this point. I do not miss pregnancy--let's just say I was never one to "glow" with the joy of carrying a child. Which is another myth I'd love find the originator of (a man, no doubt), and punch him. I did not fall in love with breastfeeding, nor did my social-butterfly child, who couldn't stand the thought of missing ANY action and would whip herself away from me at the slightest peep in the room, leaving me to expose myself to more than half of Clark County. I also do not miss the days of not being able to shower until noon (and with your second, do you ever get a shower at all?), only to get out and put on a fresh pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. I do not function well on sleep-deprivation-mode. I become snarky and I cry at the drop of a hat. I do not miss the days of wanting to beat my husband over the head with a pillow all because he is merely sleeping through the night, and I am the one getting up every two hours. I am getting a migraine just thinking of all this.
And YET, since September, THREE of my Mommy friends have announced they are pregnant! Kelly is due in April, followed by Kate in May, and Rebecca in July! Insanity! Kendra and I remain the only hold-outs!
I know what you're thinking. There are so many wonderful things about having a new baby! They're so cute and snuggly, a miracle, etc etc. I just happen to be one of those people who correlates the term 'newborn' with 'stress'. Do not judge.
Here's the deal: if I could get pregnant and give birth to, say, a five-month-old, I'd sign up tomorrow. (After I polish off that bottle of red wine we opened for dinner last night.) Keep in mind that my first child never really took to breastfeeding and refused to nap longer than 30 minutes for the first 15 months of her life. I think it's generous of me to want a five-month-old, and not an eight-year-old. Because, really, sleep is what it's all about. I got over eight hours of sleep last night. I have been up for almost an hour now, happily sipping my coffee and answering emails, and I'm just starting to hear my child stirring in her room. I will go and get her up, change her, snuggle her for a bit, and then she will want to watch "the choo-choo show". (Mr. Rogers Neighborhood. The presence of the trolley car earned it the choo-choo title.) While she happily watches her show, I will happily leaf through my magazines and plan my menu for the week. Toddlers, temper tantrums aside, are fantastic creatures.
Why would I want to mess with this, my relatively new routine of sleep and happiness?
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Story-time, revisited
This morning we woke up to a dreary, rain-soaked, typical November-in-Washington kind of day. At first my attitude was positive...this is great! Zoey and I can stay in our jammies, bake some cranberry bread, curl up and watch Sesame Street together....
Clearly I wasn't pacing myself well enough. We accomplished all of the above by 9:45 a.m. At that point, the cloud-covered sun was up, my coffee-induced mania of planning activities was wearing off, and it was just shaping up to be a boring day.
What with money being a little tight lately, I really needed to come up with something fun and free to do with my daughter that involved getting out of the house. So, with some hesitation, I looked up the story-time hours at our local library.
I mention the hesitation only because Zoey and I have attempted story-time in the not-so-distant past and it was not pretty. As in, all the other young toddlers sat contentedly in their parent's laps listening to the stories as my child whipped wildly through the room yanking all books within her reach off the shelves. I literally broke a sweat chasing her around as other parents gave me sympathetic looks and obviously counted their blessings that their child was sitting still. I distinctly remember that one of these disastrous story-time events occurred when Zoey was 14 months old and IN A TOE-TO-THIGH LEG CAST. Still, she wreaked havoc in the library and not only were the parents sympathetic, they were also slightly horrified that a child in a cast could cause such destruction.
In fact, I'm pretty sure we haven't been back to story-time since then.
But then I spent a few minutes staring out the window, contemplating the rain. Then I spent a few more minutes observing Zoey hard at work at her latest project: removing any and all cushions from all the furniture at all times and randomly placing them in our small livingroom in such a way that is NOT conducive to walking a straight line without breaking one's ankle. The thought of being trapped inside with her all day as she....oh God...now she's trying to jump from the coffee table to the cushion-less couch...yes, we NEEDED to get out of the house.
So, at 10:45, I discovered story-time was conveniently schedule for 11:00. This meant a mad-dash through the house collecting coats, sippy cups, diaper bag...wrangling an angry child in to said coat as she fought desperately to return to her Cushion Project...dashing through the rain to the library...parking out in the back 40 and running through more rain as Zoey (who had since stopped crying) repeated over and over "yucky wain, yucky wain, yucky wain Mommy!". But we made it in one piece, and only 5 minutes late. Success.
Apparently many other moms in Vancouver had the same thought I did this morning, as the story-time circle was already quite full. I removed our wet coats and sat down in the back of the room and was pleasantly surprised to see that Zoey plunked herself down in my lap and began listening quietly to the story being read.
I was also pleasantly surprised to discover that THIS story-time lasted for an entire hour, not the half-hour I had anticipated. It turned out to be a great way to pass an hour...I'm chalking this one up to Zoey's recent exposure to preschool, considering that she was perfectly well-behaved throughout the whole hour. She danced with the scarves and the bells (although she refused to dance in the circle with the other kids, opting instead to stay right by my side and stomp on my hands by accident instead), she listened to the stories, and then we got to do arts and crafts! We colored a picture of a stove and glued orange tissue paper and pumpkin pie spice to little brown pie cut-outs, then glued the cut-outs to the stove. Zoey followed along with all the activities and LOVED it.
We slogged back out in the rain with two Mr. Rogers tapes (Zoey's latest love is the "choo-choo" on Mr. Rogers Neighborhood), a lovely pie-and-stove piece of artwork, and a great sense of relief that we were headed home for lunch and then....NAP TIME!
Clearly I wasn't pacing myself well enough. We accomplished all of the above by 9:45 a.m. At that point, the cloud-covered sun was up, my coffee-induced mania of planning activities was wearing off, and it was just shaping up to be a boring day.
What with money being a little tight lately, I really needed to come up with something fun and free to do with my daughter that involved getting out of the house. So, with some hesitation, I looked up the story-time hours at our local library.
I mention the hesitation only because Zoey and I have attempted story-time in the not-so-distant past and it was not pretty. As in, all the other young toddlers sat contentedly in their parent's laps listening to the stories as my child whipped wildly through the room yanking all books within her reach off the shelves. I literally broke a sweat chasing her around as other parents gave me sympathetic looks and obviously counted their blessings that their child was sitting still. I distinctly remember that one of these disastrous story-time events occurred when Zoey was 14 months old and IN A TOE-TO-THIGH LEG CAST. Still, she wreaked havoc in the library and not only were the parents sympathetic, they were also slightly horrified that a child in a cast could cause such destruction.
In fact, I'm pretty sure we haven't been back to story-time since then.
But then I spent a few minutes staring out the window, contemplating the rain. Then I spent a few more minutes observing Zoey hard at work at her latest project: removing any and all cushions from all the furniture at all times and randomly placing them in our small livingroom in such a way that is NOT conducive to walking a straight line without breaking one's ankle. The thought of being trapped inside with her all day as she....oh God...now she's trying to jump from the coffee table to the cushion-less couch...yes, we NEEDED to get out of the house.
So, at 10:45, I discovered story-time was conveniently schedule for 11:00. This meant a mad-dash through the house collecting coats, sippy cups, diaper bag...wrangling an angry child in to said coat as she fought desperately to return to her Cushion Project...dashing through the rain to the library...parking out in the back 40 and running through more rain as Zoey (who had since stopped crying) repeated over and over "yucky wain, yucky wain, yucky wain Mommy!". But we made it in one piece, and only 5 minutes late. Success.
Apparently many other moms in Vancouver had the same thought I did this morning, as the story-time circle was already quite full. I removed our wet coats and sat down in the back of the room and was pleasantly surprised to see that Zoey plunked herself down in my lap and began listening quietly to the story being read.
I was also pleasantly surprised to discover that THIS story-time lasted for an entire hour, not the half-hour I had anticipated. It turned out to be a great way to pass an hour...I'm chalking this one up to Zoey's recent exposure to preschool, considering that she was perfectly well-behaved throughout the whole hour. She danced with the scarves and the bells (although she refused to dance in the circle with the other kids, opting instead to stay right by my side and stomp on my hands by accident instead), she listened to the stories, and then we got to do arts and crafts! We colored a picture of a stove and glued orange tissue paper and pumpkin pie spice to little brown pie cut-outs, then glued the cut-outs to the stove. Zoey followed along with all the activities and LOVED it.
We slogged back out in the rain with two Mr. Rogers tapes (Zoey's latest love is the "choo-choo" on Mr. Rogers Neighborhood), a lovely pie-and-stove piece of artwork, and a great sense of relief that we were headed home for lunch and then....NAP TIME!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Cast your votes!
After one disaster-batch of cupcakes which I can only attribute to Duncan Hines mistakenly placing a bag of angel food cake mix in the box labeled "Rich Butter Golden Recipe", I've turned out two different owl-prototypes for the upcoming birthday bash. Zoey painstakingly placed all the cupcake liners in the muffin trays, then decided she was done "helping". I was going to wait for her to wake up from her nap to help frost them, but then, like some kind of crazy-crafts-addict, I thought "well, I'll just do the base layer of frosting, then I'll wait for her to get up". Then I thought the Oreos really should be placed on the frosting before it dries. Ditto for the Gummi Savers. And before I knew it, I had completed all 24 cupcakes. And it was fun.
So let me know what you think! Should we have snow owls for the party (which I have to say were slightly easier to make), or the garden-variety tree owl? Post your vote now!
Test Run
Today, Zoey and I will be testing out two different owl-cupcake frosting techniques in anticipation of her upcoming birthday.
I know. The 75-year-old lady that I truly am at heart is just giddy right now.
I know. The 75-year-old lady that I truly am at heart is just giddy right now.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Lesson of the Day: Not a fan of the car wash.
Zoey and I were on our way to tackle the weekly Winco shopping this afternoon when I suddenly remembered I had a coupon in my handy organizer for a free car wash at Kaady Car Wash, which is conveniently located one block from Winco. I pulled in on our way to the store, since the dirt and grime on my windshield was starting to get to me.
Totally didn't think of it from Zoey's perspective.
As we sat in the line slowly approaching the car wash, panic set in. She watched the car ahead of us disappear in to the tunnel of large, loud blue brushes and then she really lost it.
"No! Mommy! No wash! Go home! GO HOME!!!"
I felt so BAD for her as I tried to reassure her that everything was fine, that the big brushes were washing Mommy's car, that Mommy wasn't going to go ANYWHERE. It was a traumatic, tear-filled three minutes in the Tunnel of Doom. But we survived.
It took an hour to navigate through Winco, a store that I HATE, and would refuse to shop at if it didn't save us so damn much money every month. Zoey sat in the cart the whole time repeating "Ah-done wash....no wash....bye-bye wash".
Needless to say, the next time I need a car wash, I'll be making that trip on my own.
Totally didn't think of it from Zoey's perspective.
As we sat in the line slowly approaching the car wash, panic set in. She watched the car ahead of us disappear in to the tunnel of large, loud blue brushes and then she really lost it.
"No! Mommy! No wash! Go home! GO HOME!!!"
I felt so BAD for her as I tried to reassure her that everything was fine, that the big brushes were washing Mommy's car, that Mommy wasn't going to go ANYWHERE. It was a traumatic, tear-filled three minutes in the Tunnel of Doom. But we survived.
It took an hour to navigate through Winco, a store that I HATE, and would refuse to shop at if it didn't save us so damn much money every month. Zoey sat in the cart the whole time repeating "Ah-done wash....no wash....bye-bye wash".
Needless to say, the next time I need a car wash, I'll be making that trip on my own.
Another Call Weekend, Another Round of Boards...
Would anyone believe me if I told them that it is 9:25 a.m. on Saturday and my child is still sleeping? No? Well, to be fair, I feel as though it took me until 6:00 a.m. to get her truly settled in for the "night", so I'm sure that makes it more believable. At any rate, I am taking advantage of the quiet time.
Bryan has his final round of Boards this weekend...THANK GOD. I believe he's had four rounds of these horrible, expensive, weekend-sapping exams, and at least three of them have fallen on my call weekends. Which makes for an awful, anxiety-ridden existence for me as I scramble to find back-up babysitters who are willing to literally take the child I dump in their living rooms while I make a mad dash for the hospital, whenever my pager goes off. Because I am basically a neurotic over-planner at heart, I am surprised that a) these weekends always seem to work out, no matter what happens, and b) that I have not developed an ulcer. Yet.
On the bright side, Bryan left very early this morning and I woke up at 8:30 (two-and-a-half hours of solid sleep after settling Zoey in to her crib at the crack of dawn) to a very quiet house. *Sigh* Is there anything better?? I have emptied the dishwasher, cleared off the dining room table, started a load of laundry....drank my coffee. Love it.
Bryan has his final round of Boards this weekend...THANK GOD. I believe he's had four rounds of these horrible, expensive, weekend-sapping exams, and at least three of them have fallen on my call weekends. Which makes for an awful, anxiety-ridden existence for me as I scramble to find back-up babysitters who are willing to literally take the child I dump in their living rooms while I make a mad dash for the hospital, whenever my pager goes off. Because I am basically a neurotic over-planner at heart, I am surprised that a) these weekends always seem to work out, no matter what happens, and b) that I have not developed an ulcer. Yet.
On the bright side, Bryan left very early this morning and I woke up at 8:30 (two-and-a-half hours of solid sleep after settling Zoey in to her crib at the crack of dawn) to a very quiet house. *Sigh* Is there anything better?? I have emptied the dishwasher, cleared off the dining room table, started a load of laundry....drank my coffee. Love it.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Blessed sleep...
It's a rainy Northwest morning, but I don't even really care BECAUSE ZOEY SLEPT FOR 12 HOURS LAST NIGHT!
I know she really needed it, and this is all part of her getting better. But wow! Her 12 hours of sleep meant that I got 10 hours of much-needed, long-coveted shut eye. Which was just enough time, apparently, for my body to finish brewing the cold it's been trying to fight off for the past two days. I woke up stuffy, but still, I don't really care.
Zo-bug is presently residing in our bed downstairs watching Elmo. I just can't take that furry little monster first thing in the morning--I need a little Matt Lauer and a big cup of coffee to get my day going. But she was so insistent that Bryan took her downstairs and tucked her in with her favorite DVD playing. Knowing my child, she's probably down there coloring all over my furniture. Again, my coffee-Today-Show-stuffy-head-I-got-a-full-night's-sleep high makes me care very little. What are Clorox wipes and Magic Erasers for, anyway? Wheee.....
So now I'm off to plan a day's worth of activities that can be accomplished indoors. We may hit up Cafe Sip N Play. Maybe some baking? Zoey is a big fan of dumping things in the mixer lately. Also, her birthday invitations need to be addressed and I need to watch the last episode of Mad Men so I can return the DVD and check out the next one. Bryan will be gone especially late tonight--study group until 9 pm, wow--so I really need to be on the ball as far as keeping this kid (and myself) occupied.
I'm off to see what my now-healthy toddler is up to....
I know she really needed it, and this is all part of her getting better. But wow! Her 12 hours of sleep meant that I got 10 hours of much-needed, long-coveted shut eye. Which was just enough time, apparently, for my body to finish brewing the cold it's been trying to fight off for the past two days. I woke up stuffy, but still, I don't really care.
Zo-bug is presently residing in our bed downstairs watching Elmo. I just can't take that furry little monster first thing in the morning--I need a little Matt Lauer and a big cup of coffee to get my day going. But she was so insistent that Bryan took her downstairs and tucked her in with her favorite DVD playing. Knowing my child, she's probably down there coloring all over my furniture. Again, my coffee-Today-Show-stuffy-head-I-got-a-full-night's-sleep high makes me care very little. What are Clorox wipes and Magic Erasers for, anyway? Wheee.....
So now I'm off to plan a day's worth of activities that can be accomplished indoors. We may hit up Cafe Sip N Play. Maybe some baking? Zoey is a big fan of dumping things in the mixer lately. Also, her birthday invitations need to be addressed and I need to watch the last episode of Mad Men so I can return the DVD and check out the next one. Bryan will be gone especially late tonight--study group until 9 pm, wow--so I really need to be on the ball as far as keeping this kid (and myself) occupied.
I'm off to see what my now-healthy toddler is up to....
Monday, November 10, 2008
On the mend!
Zoey is finally feeling better!
She's been fever-free and spunky most of the day, but I could REALLY tell she was nearly back to normal when I walked around the corner to the livingroom tonight and discovered she had colored all over the wall, her table, chairs, and the arm chair. There's no better sign of health and wellness than a nice, long time-out, right?
We went back to the pediatrician today, who agreed that Zoey looks much better. The antibiotics she's on will treat the nasty kidney infection she's developed, and when she's all better, she'll need to have some more tests done to make sure there isn't anything wrong with her kidneys and bladder. For right now, all I can focus on is her getting better...
And in the mean time, I'm going to go watch an episode of Mad Men, polish off the remaining Almond Joys from Halloween, and go to bed early. Woo hoo!
She's been fever-free and spunky most of the day, but I could REALLY tell she was nearly back to normal when I walked around the corner to the livingroom tonight and discovered she had colored all over the wall, her table, chairs, and the arm chair. There's no better sign of health and wellness than a nice, long time-out, right?
We went back to the pediatrician today, who agreed that Zoey looks much better. The antibiotics she's on will treat the nasty kidney infection she's developed, and when she's all better, she'll need to have some more tests done to make sure there isn't anything wrong with her kidneys and bladder. For right now, all I can focus on is her getting better...
And in the mean time, I'm going to go watch an episode of Mad Men, polish off the remaining Almond Joys from Halloween, and go to bed early. Woo hoo!
Saturday, November 8, 2008
The $50 Giraffe
I was SO thinking that our trip to the pediatrician's office on Thursday would result in a check of Zoey's ears, and either a prescription for an antibiotic for an ear infection OR the reassurance that her ears are fine and we can just wait out the bug that is causing her temperature to run so high.
Instead, what we found out, after a return visit on Friday, is that Zoey has a urinary tract infection which is uncommon is children in her age group and may mean there is something wrong with her kidneys.
On Thursday, Zoey was feeling so sick with a high fever, which I posted about earlier. Her doctor warned me that she was suspicious of a UTI, because her fever was so high with NO other symptoms (i.e. ear infection, runny nose, diarrhea). She put the bug in my ear that she may need to insert a catheter to obtain a urine sample...but I just couldn't. I took her home in the hopes that her fever would break that night and the problem would be solved.
Friday morning, I went to work because I had to, Bryan went to school, and Zoey stayed home with the babysitter. At 9:00 the babysitter called to tell me that Zoey had just thrown up. I thought this was almost good news--we have a winner, folks! It's a GI bug! Bryan and I both came home at noon to take her back to the pediatrician, where I almost proudly told her that yes, Zoey's fever was still sky-high, BUT she had been vomiting! She asked if there had been any diarrhea. I said no. She said this made her think even MORE that it might be a UTI, because this illness will often cause belly pain that is so bad, kids will just vomit. She said that if it was a GI bug, she'd really expect to see some diarrhea. She went on to say that a UTI left untreated can cause damage to kidneys, and that in a child Zoey's age, we need to investigate WHY she had it in the first place, because there might be something wrong with her kidneys anyway, something that sounded serious but which I simply could not process at the time because I was holding my feverish child and trying to reconcile in my mind that we would have to subject her to a catheter.
We went to the pediatric floor of the hospital where I work. They did the catheter. It was the worst thing ever for all three of us. Bryan cried, Zoey was traumatized (as if she didn't feel shitty enough as it is), and I felt horrible for everyone.
The doctor called two hours later to say yes, it was a UTI. I could go to the pharmacy to pick up her antibiotics. Bryan left to go out of town for 24 hours.
I went to Walgreens, where I was informed that they had no prescription for my daughter. Feeling my resolve weakening and kind of like I wanted to rip someone's face off, I had to call the answering service at the doctor's office (which was, of course, closed) and inform someone--I don't even know who--that I would NOT be leaving Walgreens without a prescription for antibiotics. 30 minutes later, we had everything sorted out and I went home.
First dose of antibiotics in, I felt like Zoey would be on the mend soon and we could sort out what to do next.
And then this morning happened.
Zoey and I got up at 7 a.m. She was on fire....again. With a temperature of 102.7, I knew we had to get those antibiotics in her system. Unfortunately, she had gotten wise to all the syringes of strange tasting liquids that had plagued her the past several days, and put up a valiant fight in swallowing it all down.
And then she projectile-vomited the entire dose, and a glass of milk, all over me.
One bath and many tears later, we were back on the couch to try again. This time I tried to distract her with Mr. Rogers, and squirt a little medicine in her mouth at a time, but after 30 minutes it all came back up again. I was starting to run out of clean t-shirts for both of us. I was also starting to panic.
She wouldn't eat. She wouldn't drink. She wouldn't stop throwing up. And then--this is the part that kills me--when I tried to call the pediatrican's office, the answering service wasn't working, and there was no way to get in touch with a doctor who could help me.
One hour later we were in the ER.
I had called my friend Kendra in tears (after calling my mother, also while crying, but she's too far away to help) and she thankfully came along to help. Once there, Zoey was evaluated and given some medicine for nausea, in the hopes she would then be able to keep something down. She felt like she was on fire, and after a humiliating rectal-thermometer incident, her fever was still close to 103 degrees. Every time one of the very kind nurses or the doctor walked in to the room, Zoey started to scream. (To be fair, if a nurse had just stuck a thermometer up my tushy, I might not want to see her again, either.) She also got a shot of antibiotics, which was a relief to me and another horrifying part of the ordeal for Zoey...but at least I knew she was getting the medicine she needed, which would hopefully start to bring her fever down again. By this time, Jennifer (our nurse) was--in Zoey's eyes--subjecting her to something terrible each time she walked in the room. Her saving grace was the small stuffed giraffe she brought in right before she tried to get Zoey to gag down some Tylenol. Zoey grabbed the giraffe, curled up with it on my lap, and went to sleep.
I felt awful as I watched her sleep in my lap. Her cheeks were bright red, I had stripped her down to her diaper, she smelled like vomit (and I did, too), and she looked small and defenseless as she clutched her giraffe.
The doctor came in to tell me that she'd probably keep Zoey overnight if we couldn't get her fever down and couldn't get her to take in any fluids. At that point, I was almost relieved to hear her say that. I was exhausted and not sure I could handle any more barfing and high fevers while we were at home.
But Zoey rallied and, after a couple hours, kept some ibuprofen down and started asking for crackers and water. I've never been so happy to see her eat and drink in all my life.
The last thing the hospital staff did before we left was come in to the room to collect our $50 co-pay. Then we left with more nausea medicine, a long list of discharge instructions, and a relatively happy kid carrying--as Kendra pointed out--a $50 stuffed animal.
We made it home safe and sound and Zoey is now napping downstairs in our bed. Bryan will be home soon. I am certain that I will, at some point, shower and wash the vomit smell from my body. Zoey will, with any luck, be feeling better VERY soon.
Instead, what we found out, after a return visit on Friday, is that Zoey has a urinary tract infection which is uncommon is children in her age group and may mean there is something wrong with her kidneys.
On Thursday, Zoey was feeling so sick with a high fever, which I posted about earlier. Her doctor warned me that she was suspicious of a UTI, because her fever was so high with NO other symptoms (i.e. ear infection, runny nose, diarrhea). She put the bug in my ear that she may need to insert a catheter to obtain a urine sample...but I just couldn't. I took her home in the hopes that her fever would break that night and the problem would be solved.
Friday morning, I went to work because I had to, Bryan went to school, and Zoey stayed home with the babysitter. At 9:00 the babysitter called to tell me that Zoey had just thrown up. I thought this was almost good news--we have a winner, folks! It's a GI bug! Bryan and I both came home at noon to take her back to the pediatrician, where I almost proudly told her that yes, Zoey's fever was still sky-high, BUT she had been vomiting! She asked if there had been any diarrhea. I said no. She said this made her think even MORE that it might be a UTI, because this illness will often cause belly pain that is so bad, kids will just vomit. She said that if it was a GI bug, she'd really expect to see some diarrhea. She went on to say that a UTI left untreated can cause damage to kidneys, and that in a child Zoey's age, we need to investigate WHY she had it in the first place, because there might be something wrong with her kidneys anyway, something that sounded serious but which I simply could not process at the time because I was holding my feverish child and trying to reconcile in my mind that we would have to subject her to a catheter.
We went to the pediatric floor of the hospital where I work. They did the catheter. It was the worst thing ever for all three of us. Bryan cried, Zoey was traumatized (as if she didn't feel shitty enough as it is), and I felt horrible for everyone.
The doctor called two hours later to say yes, it was a UTI. I could go to the pharmacy to pick up her antibiotics. Bryan left to go out of town for 24 hours.
I went to Walgreens, where I was informed that they had no prescription for my daughter. Feeling my resolve weakening and kind of like I wanted to rip someone's face off, I had to call the answering service at the doctor's office (which was, of course, closed) and inform someone--I don't even know who--that I would NOT be leaving Walgreens without a prescription for antibiotics. 30 minutes later, we had everything sorted out and I went home.
First dose of antibiotics in, I felt like Zoey would be on the mend soon and we could sort out what to do next.
And then this morning happened.
Zoey and I got up at 7 a.m. She was on fire....again. With a temperature of 102.7, I knew we had to get those antibiotics in her system. Unfortunately, she had gotten wise to all the syringes of strange tasting liquids that had plagued her the past several days, and put up a valiant fight in swallowing it all down.
And then she projectile-vomited the entire dose, and a glass of milk, all over me.
One bath and many tears later, we were back on the couch to try again. This time I tried to distract her with Mr. Rogers, and squirt a little medicine in her mouth at a time, but after 30 minutes it all came back up again. I was starting to run out of clean t-shirts for both of us. I was also starting to panic.
She wouldn't eat. She wouldn't drink. She wouldn't stop throwing up. And then--this is the part that kills me--when I tried to call the pediatrican's office, the answering service wasn't working, and there was no way to get in touch with a doctor who could help me.
One hour later we were in the ER.
I had called my friend Kendra in tears (after calling my mother, also while crying, but she's too far away to help) and she thankfully came along to help. Once there, Zoey was evaluated and given some medicine for nausea, in the hopes she would then be able to keep something down. She felt like she was on fire, and after a humiliating rectal-thermometer incident, her fever was still close to 103 degrees. Every time one of the very kind nurses or the doctor walked in to the room, Zoey started to scream. (To be fair, if a nurse had just stuck a thermometer up my tushy, I might not want to see her again, either.) She also got a shot of antibiotics, which was a relief to me and another horrifying part of the ordeal for Zoey...but at least I knew she was getting the medicine she needed, which would hopefully start to bring her fever down again. By this time, Jennifer (our nurse) was--in Zoey's eyes--subjecting her to something terrible each time she walked in the room. Her saving grace was the small stuffed giraffe she brought in right before she tried to get Zoey to gag down some Tylenol. Zoey grabbed the giraffe, curled up with it on my lap, and went to sleep.
I felt awful as I watched her sleep in my lap. Her cheeks were bright red, I had stripped her down to her diaper, she smelled like vomit (and I did, too), and she looked small and defenseless as she clutched her giraffe.
The doctor came in to tell me that she'd probably keep Zoey overnight if we couldn't get her fever down and couldn't get her to take in any fluids. At that point, I was almost relieved to hear her say that. I was exhausted and not sure I could handle any more barfing and high fevers while we were at home.
But Zoey rallied and, after a couple hours, kept some ibuprofen down and started asking for crackers and water. I've never been so happy to see her eat and drink in all my life.
The last thing the hospital staff did before we left was come in to the room to collect our $50 co-pay. Then we left with more nausea medicine, a long list of discharge instructions, and a relatively happy kid carrying--as Kendra pointed out--a $50 stuffed animal.
We made it home safe and sound and Zoey is now napping downstairs in our bed. Bryan will be home soon. I am certain that I will, at some point, shower and wash the vomit smell from my body. Zoey will, with any luck, be feeling better VERY soon.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Happy Happy, Sick Sick
Two main points for today's post:
1. How exciting is it that Barack Obama won the election?!? I was so happy I cried. And it seemed like it all happened so fast! Perhaps the memory of the last two elections is just so deeply ingrained in my brain, that I think all presidential elections take days and days to sort out, after every last hanging chad has been counted, contested, and counted again...all I know is that I went to put Zoey to bed at 8 p.m. and Obama had around 170 electoral votes, and after three stories and a goodnight kiss, I came back out in the livingroom to find he had won. It brought tears to my eyes to realize that my daughter will grow up in an age where we have a president who values all people, regardless of how rich they are or what background they come from. In short, she will have no memory of the bonehead who has been in office the first two years of her life.
2. Speaking of my daughter, guess who is sick...AGAIN? Seriously, people, is this normal?!? Let's recap: two weeks ago it was a 103 degree fever that lasted all weekend; then Monday we had the Great Vomit of '08 that was blessedly short in duration, then we lasted a whole day and a half before spiking yet another 103 degree fever. So, we will be visiting the pediatrician yet AGAIN this afternoon. (I can see my husband reading this and I can FEEL him rolling his eyes. Yes, honey, I know. We should just have a standing appointment once a week with the pediatrician. No, she won't be able to do much for her fever. But what if Zoey has an ear infection??) I feel so badly for her when she isn't feeling well...she gets this grey, sunken-eyed look on her face and all she wants to do is "guggle Mama". (Translation: snuggle Mama.) I had a feeling this fall and winter would be rife with colds and runny noses, but honestly, I didn't think we'd be dealing with a nasty bug every single week. It is times like these when I think I need to re-evaluate my stance on being a stay-at-home mom. (The stance always having been that staying at home would drive me crazy.) I am guessing (no...I KNOW) that if Zoey was not in daycare she wouldn't be sick as often, and staying home would eliminate the Double-Edged Guilt Sword, meaning I feel guilty calling in sick to work and I feel guilty going to work knowing Zoey is home and not feeling well, wishing she could just "guggle Mama".
*Sigh*
This is why I drink.
1. How exciting is it that Barack Obama won the election?!? I was so happy I cried. And it seemed like it all happened so fast! Perhaps the memory of the last two elections is just so deeply ingrained in my brain, that I think all presidential elections take days and days to sort out, after every last hanging chad has been counted, contested, and counted again...all I know is that I went to put Zoey to bed at 8 p.m. and Obama had around 170 electoral votes, and after three stories and a goodnight kiss, I came back out in the livingroom to find he had won. It brought tears to my eyes to realize that my daughter will grow up in an age where we have a president who values all people, regardless of how rich they are or what background they come from. In short, she will have no memory of the bonehead who has been in office the first two years of her life.
2. Speaking of my daughter, guess who is sick...AGAIN? Seriously, people, is this normal?!? Let's recap: two weeks ago it was a 103 degree fever that lasted all weekend; then Monday we had the Great Vomit of '08 that was blessedly short in duration, then we lasted a whole day and a half before spiking yet another 103 degree fever. So, we will be visiting the pediatrician yet AGAIN this afternoon. (I can see my husband reading this and I can FEEL him rolling his eyes. Yes, honey, I know. We should just have a standing appointment once a week with the pediatrician. No, she won't be able to do much for her fever. But what if Zoey has an ear infection??) I feel so badly for her when she isn't feeling well...she gets this grey, sunken-eyed look on her face and all she wants to do is "guggle Mama". (Translation: snuggle Mama.) I had a feeling this fall and winter would be rife with colds and runny noses, but honestly, I didn't think we'd be dealing with a nasty bug every single week. It is times like these when I think I need to re-evaluate my stance on being a stay-at-home mom. (The stance always having been that staying at home would drive me crazy.) I am guessing (no...I KNOW) that if Zoey was not in daycare she wouldn't be sick as often, and staying home would eliminate the Double-Edged Guilt Sword, meaning I feel guilty calling in sick to work and I feel guilty going to work knowing Zoey is home and not feeling well, wishing she could just "guggle Mama".
*Sigh*
This is why I drink.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Grocery store therapy.
Things are looking up on the daycare front. Bryan and I interviewed, and hired, a new nanny this past weekend--she'll be picking Zoey up from preschool every Monday, Wednesday and Friday and bringing her home for lunch and nap time. This should eliminate the stress of long days at daycare for Zoey, and the stress of worrying about her stressful days for me.
Things are also looking up on the barfing front: Zoey slept like a log all night long last night, and woke up seemingly good as new this morning. With fingers crossed, we invited Leslianne (our new nanny) over for the morning to spend some time with Zoey.
To celebrate the luck of finding another fantastic babysitter (we thought our luck had run out after Shea went back to school this summer), and to allow Zoey and Leslianne some bonding time, I decided to spend some time alone partaking in one of my favorite activities: bargain shopping.
That's right.
Armed with my coupons and my list, I left a semi-tearful Zoey at home and set out for Target and Safeway.
Money is tight in our household right now, as I'm sure it is for most everyone in the country at this moment. Most of my paychecks cover our expenses with a little extra wiggle room, this paycheck, however, just covered the mortgage with very little left over. (I have a precious $20 bill in my wallet, which is my only spending money for the week.)
On the plus side, I absolutely LOVE to shop for bargains and thoroughly enjoy wandering the aisles of Target finding deals on things like laundry soap and diapers. Any shopping trip is a treat for me, regardless of whether I am shopping for myself or for household items. And the opportunity to wander the aisles of my favorite stores all alone, with no distractions from my darling daughter, made me positively giddy.
I had clipped my coupons from the Sunday paper already and had them painstakingly organized in a small expanding folder in my purse. I had my very organized list with me. After hitting up Starbucks for (what I considered to be) a well-deserved Peppermint Mocha (purchased with a leftover gift card from my birthday) (and YES, more caffeine...I know, I know...) I set out in search of Downy. (And whoever thought of combining Starbucks AND Target should be sainted.) I found a score right off the bat--BIG bottles of Downy on sale for $9.00, plus my 75-cent-off coupon!
And the deals didn't stop there! Diaper wipes on sale! An almost-forgotten coupon for 50-cents-off cereal, bringing the total cost of a box of Life cereal down to $2.04!
Total spent at Target: $31.89. Total savings: $4.18.
Then it was off to wander through Safeway. I had scored a mega deal on Safeway coupons in the Sunday paper--a giant box of Pampers for $28.99 (one dollar less than at Target) plus a coupon for 10% off your total bill. Normally we don't do much grocery shopping at Safeway (it's more expensive than Winco) but I couldn't pass up the diaper deal.
You can practically smell the upscale-ness of Safeway when you walk in the door--I am used to shopping at Winco, where cases of Milwaukee's Best fly off the shelves, along with packages of Hostess cupcakes and pork rinds bought in bulk. (Surveying the purchases of shoppers in line in front of and behind me is a favorite pasttime of mine, particularly at Winco. Nothing makes you feel better about your healthy food choices than watching a 200 lb woman buy Doritos by the truckload.) But here at Safeway, it's a different demographic. Nobody was screaming "if you don't shut up I'm gonna beat your ass!" at their toddlers trapped in grocery carts. Organic produce was prominently displayed and the cart I chose glided smoothly up and down the aisles. Still sipping my mocha, I happily walked the store enjoying the choice of Whitney Houston and Lionel Richie 80's hits playing on the sound system. This...this was heaven.
I splurged on a bottle of salad dressing (top-rated last month in my Real Simple magazine), found the mega box of diapers, located the vegetable broth.
Total spent at Safeway: $36.07. Total savings: $4.77.
So I spent roughly $70 today on groceries and other necessities for the house. BUT, I saved almost $10 AND I experienced the joys that only retail therapy can bring. Sometimes it's tough to realize that you work so hard to bring home a paycheck only to have so little left over to spend on yourself. But that's part of the game right now while Bryan is in school and we are making time with our daughter a priority. And really? Shopping for deals on Downy can be just as fun as shopping for a deal on a new purse.
Things are also looking up on the barfing front: Zoey slept like a log all night long last night, and woke up seemingly good as new this morning. With fingers crossed, we invited Leslianne (our new nanny) over for the morning to spend some time with Zoey.
To celebrate the luck of finding another fantastic babysitter (we thought our luck had run out after Shea went back to school this summer), and to allow Zoey and Leslianne some bonding time, I decided to spend some time alone partaking in one of my favorite activities: bargain shopping.
That's right.
Armed with my coupons and my list, I left a semi-tearful Zoey at home and set out for Target and Safeway.
Money is tight in our household right now, as I'm sure it is for most everyone in the country at this moment. Most of my paychecks cover our expenses with a little extra wiggle room, this paycheck, however, just covered the mortgage with very little left over. (I have a precious $20 bill in my wallet, which is my only spending money for the week.)
On the plus side, I absolutely LOVE to shop for bargains and thoroughly enjoy wandering the aisles of Target finding deals on things like laundry soap and diapers. Any shopping trip is a treat for me, regardless of whether I am shopping for myself or for household items. And the opportunity to wander the aisles of my favorite stores all alone, with no distractions from my darling daughter, made me positively giddy.
I had clipped my coupons from the Sunday paper already and had them painstakingly organized in a small expanding folder in my purse. I had my very organized list with me. After hitting up Starbucks for (what I considered to be) a well-deserved Peppermint Mocha (purchased with a leftover gift card from my birthday) (and YES, more caffeine...I know, I know...) I set out in search of Downy. (And whoever thought of combining Starbucks AND Target should be sainted.) I found a score right off the bat--BIG bottles of Downy on sale for $9.00, plus my 75-cent-off coupon!
And the deals didn't stop there! Diaper wipes on sale! An almost-forgotten coupon for 50-cents-off cereal, bringing the total cost of a box of Life cereal down to $2.04!
Total spent at Target: $31.89. Total savings: $4.18.
Then it was off to wander through Safeway. I had scored a mega deal on Safeway coupons in the Sunday paper--a giant box of Pampers for $28.99 (one dollar less than at Target) plus a coupon for 10% off your total bill. Normally we don't do much grocery shopping at Safeway (it's more expensive than Winco) but I couldn't pass up the diaper deal.
You can practically smell the upscale-ness of Safeway when you walk in the door--I am used to shopping at Winco, where cases of Milwaukee's Best fly off the shelves, along with packages of Hostess cupcakes and pork rinds bought in bulk. (Surveying the purchases of shoppers in line in front of and behind me is a favorite pasttime of mine, particularly at Winco. Nothing makes you feel better about your healthy food choices than watching a 200 lb woman buy Doritos by the truckload.) But here at Safeway, it's a different demographic. Nobody was screaming "if you don't shut up I'm gonna beat your ass!" at their toddlers trapped in grocery carts. Organic produce was prominently displayed and the cart I chose glided smoothly up and down the aisles. Still sipping my mocha, I happily walked the store enjoying the choice of Whitney Houston and Lionel Richie 80's hits playing on the sound system. This...this was heaven.
I splurged on a bottle of salad dressing (top-rated last month in my Real Simple magazine), found the mega box of diapers, located the vegetable broth.
Total spent at Safeway: $36.07. Total savings: $4.77.
So I spent roughly $70 today on groceries and other necessities for the house. BUT, I saved almost $10 AND I experienced the joys that only retail therapy can bring. Sometimes it's tough to realize that you work so hard to bring home a paycheck only to have so little left over to spend on yourself. But that's part of the game right now while Bryan is in school and we are making time with our daughter a priority. And really? Shopping for deals on Downy can be just as fun as shopping for a deal on a new purse.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Fake it 'till you make it.
This is my new philosophy in life.
Here are some good examples just from today that illustrate the good ol' Fake It philosophy:
1. Wake Zoey up at 6:10 a.m. and tell her it's time to get ready for school. She looks at me and asks "I go Abby?". (Translation: "I'm going to Adley's, right?".) I wasn't surprised, as this has been our routine the past few weeks. Unfortunately, Adley spiked a 103 degree fever yesterday (compliments of Zoey, most likely) and will not be going to preschool today. That means I will be dropping Zoey off with E.R.L. bright and early. I tell Zoey "No Adley today, sweetie. Adley is sick. So you get to go to school early! Which is going to be SO much fun!". I'm totally faking it and she's not buying it, and replies "no 'cool". I put her in the car anyway.
2. Arrive at daycare at 6:35 to find total chaos, which is abnormal for this hour of the day. The gym, where the kids generally congregate, is "wet". Whether this means slightly damp floors or damaged from flooding, I'm not sure, and can't get any details as E.R.L. and the other early teacher are running around frantically trying to get the lunch room set up for the kids to play in instead. Another mom and I stand at the door uncertainly with our kids, watching the confusion, we reassure our kids that everything is okay and they will have a spot to play in soon. Zoey does not care where they set up shop, and has assumed Tree Monkey Position with all available limbs wrapped tightly around Mommy. I finally sit her down at the lunch table with her oatmeal that I have heated up prior to arrival, and tell her how much fun her day is going to be. She'll get to play all morning! Then Teacher Melina will get here, and she'll go to preschool! What fun, Zoey!
3. I leave at 6:45 after literally prying my clinging child from my body, all the while calling in a Fake Happy Voice that she's going to have a GREAT day. Right. Because we're off to a FABULOUS start. E.R.L., in a rare show of kindness, holds Zoey as I leave and tries to distract her.
4. I slide in to work at 6:58, as per usual, just in time to clock in. I find that I am working with The Master of Incompetence most of the day. While I'm not fond of any of the doctors I work with at this particular hospital, this one is truly the worst. I dig deep in my reservoir of Fake Cheerfulness and try my best to get along with him. ("Sure, I'd be HAPPY to help this 400 pound patient make multiple position changes on this teeny tiny stretcher while sedated, all so that you can flail around in vain for an hour working at a procedure you won't even be able to finish! Happy to help!") By noon I have a raging stress-headache that I drown, of course, in my 20 ounce Diet Coke. Shut up.
5. Kendra has picked Zoey up from daycare at noon, thankfully, and I leave the hospital around 4:00 to go pick her up. Kendra reports that Zoey has had an off-day, crying and asking for me at naptime. Upon my arrival, Zoey immediately picks up where she has left off this morning and resumes her Wrapped On Mommy stance. Something is up, but I can't quite put my finger on it.
6. The ah-ha! moment comes around 6 p.m. when Zoey begins throwing up in my lap. She's never done this before and instantly begins to cry, which does nothing for the barfing she can't seem to stop. And while I can hardly keep from gagging, I reassure her that it's okay, she's okay, she just has an icky tummy...I clean her up, disengage myself from her for 2 minutes, and run downstairs to change my shirt. This proves to be a mistake, as I am only clean and non-smelly for 20 minutes before Barfing: Round 2 sets in. While in my mind I am trying to deal with the idea that THIS will be my life for the next six months--a child who can't go one week without some kind of nasty bug that leaves us under house arrest for days on end--I still reassure my poor, sick little baby that everything is alright. Mommy isn't going anywhere...everything is okay.
And, in the end, that proves to be true. We're okay. Sometimes faking it through a day is the best you can do, and that certainly seems to be the case today.
Here are some good examples just from today that illustrate the good ol' Fake It philosophy:
1. Wake Zoey up at 6:10 a.m. and tell her it's time to get ready for school. She looks at me and asks "I go Abby?". (Translation: "I'm going to Adley's, right?".) I wasn't surprised, as this has been our routine the past few weeks. Unfortunately, Adley spiked a 103 degree fever yesterday (compliments of Zoey, most likely) and will not be going to preschool today. That means I will be dropping Zoey off with E.R.L. bright and early. I tell Zoey "No Adley today, sweetie. Adley is sick. So you get to go to school early! Which is going to be SO much fun!". I'm totally faking it and she's not buying it, and replies "no 'cool". I put her in the car anyway.
2. Arrive at daycare at 6:35 to find total chaos, which is abnormal for this hour of the day. The gym, where the kids generally congregate, is "wet". Whether this means slightly damp floors or damaged from flooding, I'm not sure, and can't get any details as E.R.L. and the other early teacher are running around frantically trying to get the lunch room set up for the kids to play in instead. Another mom and I stand at the door uncertainly with our kids, watching the confusion, we reassure our kids that everything is okay and they will have a spot to play in soon. Zoey does not care where they set up shop, and has assumed Tree Monkey Position with all available limbs wrapped tightly around Mommy. I finally sit her down at the lunch table with her oatmeal that I have heated up prior to arrival, and tell her how much fun her day is going to be. She'll get to play all morning! Then Teacher Melina will get here, and she'll go to preschool! What fun, Zoey!
3. I leave at 6:45 after literally prying my clinging child from my body, all the while calling in a Fake Happy Voice that she's going to have a GREAT day. Right. Because we're off to a FABULOUS start. E.R.L., in a rare show of kindness, holds Zoey as I leave and tries to distract her.
4. I slide in to work at 6:58, as per usual, just in time to clock in. I find that I am working with The Master of Incompetence most of the day. While I'm not fond of any of the doctors I work with at this particular hospital, this one is truly the worst. I dig deep in my reservoir of Fake Cheerfulness and try my best to get along with him. ("Sure, I'd be HAPPY to help this 400 pound patient make multiple position changes on this teeny tiny stretcher while sedated, all so that you can flail around in vain for an hour working at a procedure you won't even be able to finish! Happy to help!") By noon I have a raging stress-headache that I drown, of course, in my 20 ounce Diet Coke. Shut up.
5. Kendra has picked Zoey up from daycare at noon, thankfully, and I leave the hospital around 4:00 to go pick her up. Kendra reports that Zoey has had an off-day, crying and asking for me at naptime. Upon my arrival, Zoey immediately picks up where she has left off this morning and resumes her Wrapped On Mommy stance. Something is up, but I can't quite put my finger on it.
6. The ah-ha! moment comes around 6 p.m. when Zoey begins throwing up in my lap. She's never done this before and instantly begins to cry, which does nothing for the barfing she can't seem to stop. And while I can hardly keep from gagging, I reassure her that it's okay, she's okay, she just has an icky tummy...I clean her up, disengage myself from her for 2 minutes, and run downstairs to change my shirt. This proves to be a mistake, as I am only clean and non-smelly for 20 minutes before Barfing: Round 2 sets in. While in my mind I am trying to deal with the idea that THIS will be my life for the next six months--a child who can't go one week without some kind of nasty bug that leaves us under house arrest for days on end--I still reassure my poor, sick little baby that everything is alright. Mommy isn't going anywhere...everything is okay.
And, in the end, that proves to be true. We're okay. Sometimes faking it through a day is the best you can do, and that certainly seems to be the case today.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
We have a monkey!
Despite my doubts about Zoey's Halloween experience, she DID end up wearing her entire monkey costume, much to her father's and my delight.
We just didn't give her a choice: it was basically "come on, let's go to Ari's house, put on your coat", and that was that. We had forgotten that she'll do anything to go to Ari's house, so putting on the dreaded monkey coat was actually no big deal. So we collected her Abby bucket and an extra banana ("two nana!") and we were on our way.
I'd say we managed to trick-or-treat at about a half dozen houses. Zoey and Ari just followed wherever we were going, looking a little confused but nonetheless excited to see so many kids outside after dark running around in the streets. They were totally adorable in their costumes, walking up to each house and clutching their treats in their hands afterwards, with no idea as to why they were being handed candy at the houses of people they don't even know.
It was a late night out for little Miss Zoey, and a very exciting one at that. We're just happy she wore the entire outfit. Let's hear it for our little monkey!!
We just didn't give her a choice: it was basically "come on, let's go to Ari's house, put on your coat", and that was that. We had forgotten that she'll do anything to go to Ari's house, so putting on the dreaded monkey coat was actually no big deal. So we collected her Abby bucket and an extra banana ("two nana!") and we were on our way.
I'd say we managed to trick-or-treat at about a half dozen houses. Zoey and Ari just followed wherever we were going, looking a little confused but nonetheless excited to see so many kids outside after dark running around in the streets. They were totally adorable in their costumes, walking up to each house and clutching their treats in their hands afterwards, with no idea as to why they were being handed candy at the houses of people they don't even know.
It was a late night out for little Miss Zoey, and a very exciting one at that. We're just happy she wore the entire outfit. Let's hear it for our little monkey!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)