- Clara's separation anxiety at the Y's child care (they pulled me out of class)
- Ear Infection #7
- A virus that made me exhausted
- 12 hours of rehearsals plus the performance for Hansel und Gretel
- Terrible conjunctivitis in Lee's right eye (can't bring her to the child care)
Monday, March 31, 2008
Why It's Hard to Get Exercise
Sunday, March 30, 2008
An Ode to Trader Joe's
These daffodils have made me happy this past weekend.
I picked them up at Trader Joe's. I bought three bunches, and each bunch cost $1.39, so for a total investment of $4.17 we've had these to remind us that it is, in fact, spring, since the weather is not doing its job in that department (24 degrees again this morning!).
So I thought I'd write an Ode to Trader Joe's. Based strictly on knowledge gained from a Google search "How to Write an Ode.", here we go:
It's always easy to park,
The store is never busy,
I choose items on a lark,
And the choices make me dizzy.
Edamame, gyoza, nuts galore,
Balloons for Clara and Lee.
Free coffee and samples to taste,
Oh! how I love this store.
I pack my own groceries with glee,
And no plastic bags go to waste.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
A New Hiding Place
Lee recently found a kitchen cabinet that we didn't realize we had. It's a little narrow one on the end of the bar. Both girls can just fit in it, although unfortunately not at the same time, which has, of course, proven to be a source of contention.
Ear Infection #7
That sounds a bit like Mambo #9. Only it's not quite so fun. Especially just one week after finishing the course of antibiotics for ear infection #6. We follow up with Clara's doctor in ten days, but it looks like we may be seeing an ENT specialist for her.
Her poor cousin Alex, at ten, has so much scar tissue in his ears from infections when he was a baby that he has to take ibuprofen around the clock whenever has has a cold. His ears hurt him an awful lot and he may be facing surgery to remove some scarring. We really hope to avoid that, and if we have to have tubes put in, so be it.
So, for Clara it has been a rough winter. She's been struggling with ear infections and teething nearly constantly. Actually, for the rest of us it hasn't been too bad. We all had a terrible cold over Thanksgiving, and since then Lee has had some minor colds and one ear infection that didn't require treatment. I had a stomach bug, and I currently have this crazy virus that feels like just a minor cold except for extreme exhaustion unlike anything I've felt since being pregnant. Bridges has mainly just suffered from chronic tiredness.
Unfortunately it's not even April, and last spring we had two stomach bugs and two ear infections during April, May, and June. I'm crossing my fingers this spring is better!
Her poor cousin Alex, at ten, has so much scar tissue in his ears from infections when he was a baby that he has to take ibuprofen around the clock whenever has has a cold. His ears hurt him an awful lot and he may be facing surgery to remove some scarring. We really hope to avoid that, and if we have to have tubes put in, so be it.
So, for Clara it has been a rough winter. She's been struggling with ear infections and teething nearly constantly. Actually, for the rest of us it hasn't been too bad. We all had a terrible cold over Thanksgiving, and since then Lee has had some minor colds and one ear infection that didn't require treatment. I had a stomach bug, and I currently have this crazy virus that feels like just a minor cold except for extreme exhaustion unlike anything I've felt since being pregnant. Bridges has mainly just suffered from chronic tiredness.
Unfortunately it's not even April, and last spring we had two stomach bugs and two ear infections during April, May, and June. I'm crossing my fingers this spring is better!
Outside!
Clara loves to go outside. She will go get her coat and/or a hat and point to the door asking to go out. Here she was this morning by the front door, right after we changed her diaper (and before we got clothes on her). This morning she thought a hat was adequate.
I didn't want to tell her it was 28 degrees and there was some fresh snow on the ground. Yes, it is very nearly April here in Boston. Brrr.....
I didn't want to tell her it was 28 degrees and there was some fresh snow on the ground. Yes, it is very nearly April here in Boston. Brrr.....
Easter
We spent Easter at Aunt Deb's house in Portland again this year. There was the second annual Easter Egg hunt in the snow.
Clara's favorite activity was sitting in Koda's cage and rubbing the water from his dish in her hair.
She wasn't nearly as happy about the bunny ears.
Clara's favorite activity was sitting in Koda's cage and rubbing the water from his dish in her hair.
She wasn't nearly as happy about the bunny ears.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Poison Control and Related Stories
I wonder if Poison Control (1-800-222-1222) keeps track of how many times you call, and when you hit a certain number they call DSS. We are on our way.
There was the time that I was oiling a piece of wood furniture, put down the Lemon Oil, and when I turned around Lee (about a year old) was drinking out of it like a bottle. I believe that time the woman on the phone said "if she'd drank any significant amount she'd be vomiting, so nothing to worry about."
Last week, cleaning out my car prompted another call to Poison Control. A few weeks earlier while Bridges was driving the girls back from Loon, Lee was getting restless, so he gave her a first aid kit to look at. Much of the contents ended up all over the floor of the car. When I finally got around to cleaning it up, I found half of a broken thermometer in Lee's car seat. I could not find the other half of the thermometer anywhere. Lee claimed it was already broken, and I tended to believe her because I think she would have remembered breaking something like that. But even so, where was the other half? Where was the mercury? Yikes....
A call to the pediatrician did nothing to comfort me as they referred me to Poison Control. But once again the folks at Poison Control were relaxed about it. They told me to dispose of the mercury properly if I find it, but that there was no need to worry because even if she had swallowed it, it would pass right through her. That response seemed very strange to me, given all the hoopla over eating tuna sandwiches. But I figured they know what they're talking about. And really, that thermometer was most likely broken long before we even put the kit in the car.
Then there were the other toxin-related incidents which didn't technically involve Poison Control. Once (and this is gross so you can skip this part if you want) we left Lee alone in the basement for all of one minute, and when I came back downstairs she had the scoop from the kitty litter box in her mouth. Which is in itself pretty disgusting, but is worse when you consider that we had just had Oscar treated because he was leaving little worms all over the house (just one reason I will never have an outdoor cat again). That time involved a call to my sister Deb, who is a veterinarian, as well as the pediatrician. Deb told us that the worms probably couldn't live in a human host, but the pediatrician's office was pretty concerned and wanted to run blood work on her. In the end we listened to Deb, and figured if she started to show symptoms of having worms, we'd worry about it then.
The last similar incident involved rabies. Last summer we kept finding mouse droppings in the house at the lake. Only it seemed kind of strange because even after we moved Lee's bed into the middle of the room, the droppings appeared on the bed the next morning. To make a long (at least several weekends) story (which did involve the capture of at least one live creature) short , we eventually realized the house was home to not just us, but bats as well.
It turns out that despite their amazing ability to keep the mosquito population under control, you really don't want bats in your house because a very high percentage of them carry rabies, and their bites are so small you may not even know you've been bitten. And, they don't even have to bite you to transmit it. They can just drool a bit while they're flying over you and get you that way. In short, you don't want your children sleeping in a bat-infested house. After a bat control expert spent several days sealing the house (quite a job considering this is a summer cabin that is quite open to the elements) and installing one-way exits, waiting for them to leave, and then closing the exits, we were finally free of bats.
It was only later on, when I mentioned all of this to the pediatrician, that she told me that any time a child may have been exposed to a bat they are given rabies shots as a precaution. They'd given shots to several kids that summer already. Ooops....
So I guess, so far, we've gotten lucky. Really, I think any time children actually reach adulthood without serious injury, there's a fair amount of good luck involved. You can try to increase your odds, but that's all you're doing. Just slightly adjusting the odds.
There was the time that I was oiling a piece of wood furniture, put down the Lemon Oil, and when I turned around Lee (about a year old) was drinking out of it like a bottle. I believe that time the woman on the phone said "if she'd drank any significant amount she'd be vomiting, so nothing to worry about."
Last week, cleaning out my car prompted another call to Poison Control. A few weeks earlier while Bridges was driving the girls back from Loon, Lee was getting restless, so he gave her a first aid kit to look at. Much of the contents ended up all over the floor of the car. When I finally got around to cleaning it up, I found half of a broken thermometer in Lee's car seat. I could not find the other half of the thermometer anywhere. Lee claimed it was already broken, and I tended to believe her because I think she would have remembered breaking something like that. But even so, where was the other half? Where was the mercury? Yikes....
A call to the pediatrician did nothing to comfort me as they referred me to Poison Control. But once again the folks at Poison Control were relaxed about it. They told me to dispose of the mercury properly if I find it, but that there was no need to worry because even if she had swallowed it, it would pass right through her. That response seemed very strange to me, given all the hoopla over eating tuna sandwiches. But I figured they know what they're talking about. And really, that thermometer was most likely broken long before we even put the kit in the car.
Then there were the other toxin-related incidents which didn't technically involve Poison Control. Once (and this is gross so you can skip this part if you want) we left Lee alone in the basement for all of one minute, and when I came back downstairs she had the scoop from the kitty litter box in her mouth. Which is in itself pretty disgusting, but is worse when you consider that we had just had Oscar treated because he was leaving little worms all over the house (just one reason I will never have an outdoor cat again). That time involved a call to my sister Deb, who is a veterinarian, as well as the pediatrician. Deb told us that the worms probably couldn't live in a human host, but the pediatrician's office was pretty concerned and wanted to run blood work on her. In the end we listened to Deb, and figured if she started to show symptoms of having worms, we'd worry about it then.
The last similar incident involved rabies. Last summer we kept finding mouse droppings in the house at the lake. Only it seemed kind of strange because even after we moved Lee's bed into the middle of the room, the droppings appeared on the bed the next morning. To make a long (at least several weekends) story (which did involve the capture of at least one live creature) short , we eventually realized the house was home to not just us, but bats as well.
It turns out that despite their amazing ability to keep the mosquito population under control, you really don't want bats in your house because a very high percentage of them carry rabies, and their bites are so small you may not even know you've been bitten. And, they don't even have to bite you to transmit it. They can just drool a bit while they're flying over you and get you that way. In short, you don't want your children sleeping in a bat-infested house. After a bat control expert spent several days sealing the house (quite a job considering this is a summer cabin that is quite open to the elements) and installing one-way exits, waiting for them to leave, and then closing the exits, we were finally free of bats.
It was only later on, when I mentioned all of this to the pediatrician, that she told me that any time a child may have been exposed to a bat they are given rabies shots as a precaution. They'd given shots to several kids that summer already. Ooops....
So I guess, so far, we've gotten lucky. Really, I think any time children actually reach adulthood without serious injury, there's a fair amount of good luck involved. You can try to increase your odds, but that's all you're doing. Just slightly adjusting the odds.
Save the Subaru!
That's it. My friend Cindy has done it. I can do it too. I am going to banish snacks from my Subaru.
I cleaned out my car last week. I cannot even tell you how disgusting it was. It's hard to clean your car in winter, so it's been a while. I cleaned up food, dried milk, most of the contents of a first aid kit (including a broken thermometer), and mud from the driveway project.
This is going to be a big lifestyle change, but I think we can do it. It's going to mean slowing down, and also planning ahead. I have no idea how long trips are going to work, but we'll have to figure it out.
I cleaned out my car last week. I cannot even tell you how disgusting it was. It's hard to clean your car in winter, so it's been a while. I cleaned up food, dried milk, most of the contents of a first aid kit (including a broken thermometer), and mud from the driveway project.
This is going to be a big lifestyle change, but I think we can do it. It's going to mean slowing down, and also planning ahead. I have no idea how long trips are going to work, but we'll have to figure it out.
Hänsel und Gretel
My orchestra is performing Hänsel und Gretel in a few weeks. What a great opera. I'm really enjoying it. However, having made it to only two of the first five rehearsals, I am woefully unfamiliar with the music. So I am, in the best college tradition, cramming.
I have a double CD of the opera in German, the libretto, which has German in the left-hand column and English in the right, and my viola part. I don't know German. Trying to learn the music and the story while also following my part is extremely difficult. I can only follow the music and the libretto or the music and my part, so there is lots of going back over things multiple times. I spent over an hour last night on just one and a half minutes of the first act. As a matter of fact, I've already spent about four hours just listening and reading, and that's all been on Act I. As my conductor says, "Opera is hard!"
Because I've been struggling with the opera, it didn't really occur to me that Lee might enjoy it, despite the fact that she has been listening to various CD's lately. But yesterday I put on my favorite bit so far, which is Peter's drunken song in Act I, and we danced and danced around the kitchen, laughing and giggling with Clara looking on with fascination. Lee then looked at the libretto, and what does she see but a gingerbread house on the front. "Mommy, tell me the whole story." And that was that.....
"I want to hear the witch's song again!" She loves it.
I have a double CD of the opera in German, the libretto, which has German in the left-hand column and English in the right, and my viola part. I don't know German. Trying to learn the music and the story while also following my part is extremely difficult. I can only follow the music and the libretto or the music and my part, so there is lots of going back over things multiple times. I spent over an hour last night on just one and a half minutes of the first act. As a matter of fact, I've already spent about four hours just listening and reading, and that's all been on Act I. As my conductor says, "Opera is hard!"
Because I've been struggling with the opera, it didn't really occur to me that Lee might enjoy it, despite the fact that she has been listening to various CD's lately. But yesterday I put on my favorite bit so far, which is Peter's drunken song in Act I, and we danced and danced around the kitchen, laughing and giggling with Clara looking on with fascination. Lee then looked at the libretto, and what does she see but a gingerbread house on the front. "Mommy, tell me the whole story." And that was that.....
"I want to hear the witch's song again!" She loves it.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Where's my decoder?
Clara is starting to say a few words. Many many words sound oh so similar, and things are very contextual. "Ga" seems to mean many different things, and "please" sounds an awful lot like "Lee." So if you're holding her and you ask "Do you want to get down?" and she responds "Ga!" it's clear as day that she means "Down!". But if she instead points to the fruit bowl and says "Ga!" you can convince yourself she's saying "Banana!". The only consistently clear thing she says is "Thank you."
So yesterday I was driving in the back seat and I hear her say "thank you" several times. Of course I say "you're welcome, Clara" because she's probably thanking me just for being such a great mom. But she keeps saying "thank you" and so I look in the rear view mirror and realize she's pulling her hood over her face and playing Peek-a-Boo. Turns out "thank you" has a homonym too, and it's "peek-a-boo."
I would still like a decoder sometimes for Lee. Of course she learns most vocabulary by context, so she often substitutes similarly sounding words, which can confuse the heck out of you. Today we were walking around the MFA, and there are sculptures of people stationed around the museum. One of them was hanging from a very high ceiling as if he were flying through the air.
"Mommy, I think he's Japanese," Lee says after looking at one of them.
I look and see no indication that he might be Japanese. So Lee and I go back and forth a few times about this until she finally says in frustration "Like at Jordan's." Ah, of course. We were at Jordan's store in Reading just a few weeks ago, and at that store they have a Trapeze school. Japanese, trapeze.....oh so similar.
So yesterday I was driving in the back seat and I hear her say "thank you" several times. Of course I say "you're welcome, Clara" because she's probably thanking me just for being such a great mom. But she keeps saying "thank you" and so I look in the rear view mirror and realize she's pulling her hood over her face and playing Peek-a-Boo. Turns out "thank you" has a homonym too, and it's "peek-a-boo."
I would still like a decoder sometimes for Lee. Of course she learns most vocabulary by context, so she often substitutes similarly sounding words, which can confuse the heck out of you. Today we were walking around the MFA, and there are sculptures of people stationed around the museum. One of them was hanging from a very high ceiling as if he were flying through the air.
"Mommy, I think he's Japanese," Lee says after looking at one of them.
I look and see no indication that he might be Japanese. So Lee and I go back and forth a few times about this until she finally says in frustration "Like at Jordan's." Ah, of course. We were at Jordan's store in Reading just a few weeks ago, and at that store they have a Trapeze school. Japanese, trapeze.....oh so similar.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Who Cares if There's Water in the Basement?
I debated whether I should post about my fourth stomach bug in three years. I feel I should write down some of the unhappy details of our parenthood or otherwise we'll only remember the good stuff. To which Bridges says "So what? Why do you want to remember the bad things?" Which just about sums up his wonderfully positive attitude about life.
Actually, even if I didn't write things down, I would still probably remember 10x more negative stuff than he would. It's just the way we're wired. But it's not all bad, because after some time these memories can be awfully damn funny. Just read Operating Instructions if you want a fine example. Now that I think about it, Bridges couldn't finish that book because it was too hard to read, whereas I thought it was hilarious. As I said, we're wired differently.
So I will just shortly summarize. Friday Clara is diagnosed with her sixth ear infection (a double) in ten months. She's on antibiotics. She's not sleeping well. Lee's having nightmares and is not sleeping well. Saturday I come down with terrible stomach cramps, which last for 36 hours (mercifully no vomiting this time around), and am now on my third day of diarrhea. The kind where you don't leave the house.
Let me just say that this has not been as bad as the rotovirus (or possible Norwalk virus) we got last year. Which hit us just one month after a 3-day stomach bug which involved Lee throwing up on Bridges' head while riding his shoulders through the mall (see, that's funny!). This nasty bug lasted six days and we were lucky Lee didn't end up in the hospital. One night her fever climbed over 104, at which point we yanked out the thermometer and dumped her in the bathtub at 3 am. She lost an unbelievable amount of liquids and was so sick she wouldn't even watch TV. I was nursing Clara at the time, somehow, between cleaning up bedsheets, Lees clothes, my clothes, etc... it was really awful.
But not to digress, let's get back to stomach bug #4, which for some reason has selected only me out of the family. Which I know is a good thing but somehow still seems horribly unfair. Sunday night I'm lying on the couch with pretty sharp stomach cramps, and Bridges tells me we've got water in the basement, which is coming up from the floor and flooding the west end of the house... as opposed to the east end in which we installed a brand new sump pump last summer. Poor Bridges, who has had very little sleep the past week because of the kids' not sleeping, spends the next three nights dealing with this (first just bailing by hand, then installing a second sump pump himself which turns out to be a learning experience), while I just lie on the couch.
I knew I was feeling better yesterday because I could spend some energy actually worrying about it.
Actually, even if I didn't write things down, I would still probably remember 10x more negative stuff than he would. It's just the way we're wired. But it's not all bad, because after some time these memories can be awfully damn funny. Just read Operating Instructions if you want a fine example. Now that I think about it, Bridges couldn't finish that book because it was too hard to read, whereas I thought it was hilarious. As I said, we're wired differently.
So I will just shortly summarize. Friday Clara is diagnosed with her sixth ear infection (a double) in ten months. She's on antibiotics. She's not sleeping well. Lee's having nightmares and is not sleeping well. Saturday I come down with terrible stomach cramps, which last for 36 hours (mercifully no vomiting this time around), and am now on my third day of diarrhea. The kind where you don't leave the house.
Let me just say that this has not been as bad as the rotovirus (or possible Norwalk virus) we got last year. Which hit us just one month after a 3-day stomach bug which involved Lee throwing up on Bridges' head while riding his shoulders through the mall (see, that's funny!). This nasty bug lasted six days and we were lucky Lee didn't end up in the hospital. One night her fever climbed over 104, at which point we yanked out the thermometer and dumped her in the bathtub at 3 am. She lost an unbelievable amount of liquids and was so sick she wouldn't even watch TV. I was nursing Clara at the time, somehow, between cleaning up bedsheets, Lees clothes, my clothes, etc... it was really awful.
But not to digress, let's get back to stomach bug #4, which for some reason has selected only me out of the family. Which I know is a good thing but somehow still seems horribly unfair. Sunday night I'm lying on the couch with pretty sharp stomach cramps, and Bridges tells me we've got water in the basement, which is coming up from the floor and flooding the west end of the house... as opposed to the east end in which we installed a brand new sump pump last summer. Poor Bridges, who has had very little sleep the past week because of the kids' not sleeping, spends the next three nights dealing with this (first just bailing by hand, then installing a second sump pump himself which turns out to be a learning experience), while I just lie on the couch.
I knew I was feeling better yesterday because I could spend some energy actually worrying about it.
The Power of Suggestion (or The Dreamcatcher)
Well, Lee's been having a tough time sleeping again. She's actually scared of sleeping because she's afraid bad dreams will come. She dreads the approaching nighttime, and says in the middle of the night "I wish it were morning." The other night we were up five times with her (and three times with Clara, but the details of those unhappy few days is another story).
We've tried a fair number of things. The light nights (yes, that's plural) weren't bright enough, so we have a lamp on in the room. The closet doors are shut tight. The door to the room is left ajar. She's got her blankie, and stuffed animals to protect her. We've talked with her about how we need our sleep, how she needs her sleep, etc....
So I mentioned this to my helpful friend Karen, who suggested trying a dream catcher to catch the bad dreams. For me the next step was going to be moving her onto the floor of our bedroom, and that's a hard thing to undo again, so I figured what the heck, we'll try one more night in her room with this crazy dream catcher idea.
I put her in her sleeping bag on the floor (this has been helpful previously because I take it bedcovers can be scary), and she sets up her stuffed animals as little sentinels and I hold, I kid you not, a fine-mesh kitchen strainer with a handle (because who has a dream catcher in the house?), and I dance around the room catching the bad dreams. Lee is fascinated with this process and has a huge smile on her face. I make sure I get even the tiny ones hiding in the corners of the ceiling. Then I leave the room, she goes to sleep, and sleeps soundly through the night. Two nights in a row.
As Lilly says, "Wow." That's about all I can say. "Wow."
Here she is, sound asleep under the sleeping bag with her animals at the ready.
I like that she put the United plane there. Just in case she needs to be transported away quickly.
We've tried a fair number of things. The light nights (yes, that's plural) weren't bright enough, so we have a lamp on in the room. The closet doors are shut tight. The door to the room is left ajar. She's got her blankie, and stuffed animals to protect her. We've talked with her about how we need our sleep, how she needs her sleep, etc....
So I mentioned this to my helpful friend Karen, who suggested trying a dream catcher to catch the bad dreams. For me the next step was going to be moving her onto the floor of our bedroom, and that's a hard thing to undo again, so I figured what the heck, we'll try one more night in her room with this crazy dream catcher idea.
I put her in her sleeping bag on the floor (this has been helpful previously because I take it bedcovers can be scary), and she sets up her stuffed animals as little sentinels and I hold, I kid you not, a fine-mesh kitchen strainer with a handle (because who has a dream catcher in the house?), and I dance around the room catching the bad dreams. Lee is fascinated with this process and has a huge smile on her face. I make sure I get even the tiny ones hiding in the corners of the ceiling. Then I leave the room, she goes to sleep, and sleeps soundly through the night. Two nights in a row.
As Lilly says, "Wow." That's about all I can say. "Wow."
Here she is, sound asleep under the sleeping bag with her animals at the ready.
I like that she put the United plane there. Just in case she needs to be transported away quickly.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Violet Beauregarde
I've mentioned that Lee likes to sit on the heating vents in our house. She's kind of like a cat that way, except that a cat would stay there for hours on end, whereas Lee doesn't stay put anywhere for very long.
This morning, in the dress she was wearing, Lee ended up looking like the blueberry girl from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Remember her? Violet Beauregarde. Gosh I couldn't stand her. I should really get a copy of that movie to show Lee. Although, both kids, without knowing anything about the movie, thought it was pretty funny anyway.
This morning, in the dress she was wearing, Lee ended up looking like the blueberry girl from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Remember her? Violet Beauregarde. Gosh I couldn't stand her. I should really get a copy of that movie to show Lee. Although, both kids, without knowing anything about the movie, thought it was pretty funny anyway.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Room for Kids
We finally received the living room furniture that we ordered back in October. I hardly knew what it would look like since it had been so long since we'd picked it out, and was surprised at how big the storage ottoman is. Lots of room for feet on top, and kids inside.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Oh, Tiger
I would be remiss to not have a post about Tiger. Clara is very attached to Tiger. Lee has her blankie, but Clara's relationship with Tiger started much much earlier and seems much stronger. She loves Tiger and will not go to sleep without him. When she gets herself to sleep, she lies down , buries her face into him, and kind of moans until she's out. If she's rolling around the floor of the playroom with her face buried in Tiger, we know she's tired.
If she hasn't seen Tiger for a while (we half-heartedly attempt to keep Tiger in the crib during the day so that we don't have to execute the house-wide Search For Tiger before bedtime), she will grab him and just sniff and sniff. Then she starts to chew on his tail, and then she buries her face into him. Of course after a trip through the laundry, there is a bit of consternation at his new fresh scent, but he is soon accepted just like a two-week-old seasoned Tiger.
Tiger has a rattle in his head, so he softly jingles when shaken. This is often how we awaken during the night or in the morning - to the sound of Tiger jingling. We can also track her movements through the house if she's carrying him around.
Clara went through a period where she would throw Tiger out of the crib whenever we put her down. She would stand in the crib and cry, staring at Tiger far below on the floor. Of course this presents a dilemma - do we go back in the room and give her Tiger, thus teaching her that if she throws him out we will come back in the room? We always broke down rather early and went in and put Tiger back into the crib (imagining all the while that we'd be repeating this many times over the next hour or so), but nearly every time, she would immediately lie down, bury her face into Tiger, and go to sleep.
If she hasn't seen Tiger for a while (we half-heartedly attempt to keep Tiger in the crib during the day so that we don't have to execute the house-wide Search For Tiger before bedtime), she will grab him and just sniff and sniff. Then she starts to chew on his tail, and then she buries her face into him. Of course after a trip through the laundry, there is a bit of consternation at his new fresh scent, but he is soon accepted just like a two-week-old seasoned Tiger.
Tiger has a rattle in his head, so he softly jingles when shaken. This is often how we awaken during the night or in the morning - to the sound of Tiger jingling. We can also track her movements through the house if she's carrying him around.
Clara went through a period where she would throw Tiger out of the crib whenever we put her down. She would stand in the crib and cry, staring at Tiger far below on the floor. Of course this presents a dilemma - do we go back in the room and give her Tiger, thus teaching her that if she throws him out we will come back in the room? We always broke down rather early and went in and put Tiger back into the crib (imagining all the while that we'd be repeating this many times over the next hour or so), but nearly every time, she would immediately lie down, bury her face into Tiger, and go to sleep.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Candyland
Lee loves playing Candyland. She especially loves picking the "special cards," e.g the candy cane that sends you to the Peppermint Forest or the gumdrop that puts you in the Gumdrop Mountains. These cards can skyrocket you forwards, but can also send you back near the beginning when you are agonizingly close to reaching the Candy Castle.
The last six or so games we have played, I have picked nearly all of the special cards. I think Lee has had just two over all the games, and I have gotten the rest of them. I know that this is how Lady Luck works, but I really don't want to be on a special card streak when my daughter is heartbroken every time I pick one. She knows that she is expected to be a good sport and she does really well for a three-year-old, even saying "congratulations" when I pick yet another one. I feel for her because it is just so unfair, and eventually she does break down in tears.
Of course the irony of this is that out of those six games, Lee has reached the Candy Castle first (and thus won the game) five times. But to her winning is just not as thrilling as turning over her card and seeing a pretty picture of candy. I explain to her several times that you don't really want to pick a special card that's going to send you backwards, but she's not buying it. And towards the end of the last game I find myself saying, "Lee, what's really important is who wins. It's not about the special cards along the way."
No wait, isn't that backwards? Maybe she has the right idea after all.
The last six or so games we have played, I have picked nearly all of the special cards. I think Lee has had just two over all the games, and I have gotten the rest of them. I know that this is how Lady Luck works, but I really don't want to be on a special card streak when my daughter is heartbroken every time I pick one. She knows that she is expected to be a good sport and she does really well for a three-year-old, even saying "congratulations" when I pick yet another one. I feel for her because it is just so unfair, and eventually she does break down in tears.
Of course the irony of this is that out of those six games, Lee has reached the Candy Castle first (and thus won the game) five times. But to her winning is just not as thrilling as turning over her card and seeing a pretty picture of candy. I explain to her several times that you don't really want to pick a special card that's going to send you backwards, but she's not buying it. And towards the end of the last game I find myself saying, "Lee, what's really important is who wins. It's not about the special cards along the way."
No wait, isn't that backwards? Maybe she has the right idea after all.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
A Thought on Happiness
I've been reading a blog written by two friends who have quit their jobs and are taking a series of trips over the course of a year. They are currently in Patagonia. As I read their blog, I find it interesting, and the pictures beautiful, and yet not once have I heard a voice in my head saying "I wish I were there."
Now this is amazing to me. I have been known in the past to be what some might call, oh, a bit restless. From the time I went to college, I moved often (every two years on average), and traveled a good deal both for work and play. One move took me to the UK where I was able to travel all over the world for work. It was wonderful. But when I look back now I am struck by how little I was able to enjoy being where I was because I always wanted to be somewhere else. Or maybe it's that I wanted to be somewhere else because I just wasn't happy where I was.
It has occurred to me that this is one reason I was meant to have children at 40. I know that ten years ago, if I were home changing diapers with friends hiking across glaciers, I would be itching to be in their shoes, or hiking boots as the case may be. Maybe I just got the travel bug out of my system, but I think it's more that I am just happy to put it all on hold for the moment.
Hmm...wanting to be exactly where I am. That sounds strangely like some form of happiness.
Now this is amazing to me. I have been known in the past to be what some might call, oh, a bit restless. From the time I went to college, I moved often (every two years on average), and traveled a good deal both for work and play. One move took me to the UK where I was able to travel all over the world for work. It was wonderful. But when I look back now I am struck by how little I was able to enjoy being where I was because I always wanted to be somewhere else. Or maybe it's that I wanted to be somewhere else because I just wasn't happy where I was.
It has occurred to me that this is one reason I was meant to have children at 40. I know that ten years ago, if I were home changing diapers with friends hiking across glaciers, I would be itching to be in their shoes, or hiking boots as the case may be. Maybe I just got the travel bug out of my system, but I think it's more that I am just happy to put it all on hold for the moment.
Hmm...wanting to be exactly where I am. That sounds strangely like some form of happiness.
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