Tattler/Comedian

Spiderman came to visit school last week. Ellie's teacher sent me this picture.

Ellie has always been a fan of tattling but it seems to be amping up a bit lately, for some reason. Sometimes it's handy, like when I'm upstairs trying to finish getting dressed for work and Leo is digging around in the freezer for ice cream. Sometimes it's really annoying. And sometimes, well, you be the judge.

Last night in the midst of the usual horror show--oops I mean comedy hour--of screeching babies and whining big kids and a barking dog that is dinner time at our house, the following conversation took place:

Leo: (to Lucy, who was sitting innocently in her high chair eating sweet potatoes and pasta shells): "You're fired!"

Ellie: "Mommy, Leo said Lucy's fired."

Me: "Ellie, do you even know what that means?"

Ellie: "It means Lucy's on fire."

Me: "No, it means she can't work at her job any more."

Leo: (to Lucy, again, this time with even more feeling): "You're fired!"

Ellie: "Mommy! Leo said Lucy's fired. She doesn't even have a job!"

The Kindness of Strangers and Angels

Gratuitous cute Harry picture having nothing to do with this post.

Three days before Christmas in the post office parking lot, the middle aged man in the yarmulke eyed me with what appeared to be shock. And maybe a touch of horror.

He stood there for a moment, and I wasn't sure what he wanted, but finally: "Can I help you?" he asked.

At first I thought he was judging me, critical of the fact that I left the ridiculous double stroller a few feet away (with the babies in it) on the curb in front of the car while I unstrapped Ellie from her car seat. But it turned out it wasn't judgement at all. It was just the usual shock and awe at the circus act that is us.

It was a welcome switch-up from the always original "Well you have your hands full!"
And as much as I appreciate the ever-popular "God bless you" (another common phrase our brood elicits), that one doesn't get packages mailed either.

"Oh, we're OK, I'm..." I paused. What the hell was I saying? This man was being kind. I had three good-sized boxes to get from the car to the post office, one well-meaning but often ineffectual four-year-old and oh, those babies. And that stroller.

"You know what? You can carry my boxes," I said.

Let me pause to say I'm a very independent person. Sometimes, to a fault. I'm the Queen of "I Got This." I don't think it's any coincidence that one of Leo's new favorite phrases is "I'm fine." I must say it a lot.

Well guess what? In the last few months I've learned a very important lesson. Take help where you can get it. Because you know what? These days? I don't always got this.


In other news, we have a roller!

Last night I left the room for a moment with Lucy on her back on her little play mat and returned to find her on her belly. I was a little disappointed that I missed her First Roll. So I left the room again. And when I returned, she'd rolled over again! And I missed it again! Now, she's what I like to refer to as a "Rolling Fool." Girl can't stay in one position for longer than a few minutes, she rolls any chance she can.

Today Ellie asked me if angels are real and if we can see them. Then she asked me if God makes the weather. Seriously I did not know this parenting gig was going to involve such profound questions, so early on. It feels like such a huge responsibility to have these little people who basically believe everything I say. (For the record I told her angels are real but you don't know who they are when you meet/see them, that they don't have wings or halos). And then I got a little teary.

Speaking of angels, I'll just never get tired of taking pictures of this.

I Love Three. I Hate Three.

Oh, Ellie. Really, what is there to say?

Monday night my three year old almost made me cry. I was tired. I was hungry. She was more tired. Bed time was, well, a disaster.

She told me she didn’t like my skirt. She told me not to touch her. She didn’t want to wear her Pull-Up with the Princesses on it. She wanted to wear one of Leo’s old ones with the robot. Then she didn’t. She wanted books. She didn’t want books. She wanted one particular book that happened to be in the basement playroom which I was not going down two stories to get. Even I was not that desperate.

Oh and my new favorite? "If you don't get me my kitty cat nightgown [just an example, it could be any unrequited request] I'm not going to be your friend!"

Then she wanted Band-Aids. And more Band-Aids.

Last week she called me into her room thirty minutes after “Lights Out” to inform me that there was “a hair in her bed.”

Last night she was concerned she wouldn’t be able to go to sleep because she had the “hook-ups.” I did not have the heart to correct her and was relieved to finally have something to laugh about.

My mistake is, I try to reason with her. She’s three. There is no reason. I need to remember this. I try my best to remain calm when she ruffles me. I remind myself that she’s tired, hungry, fill-in-the-blank.

I think it’s the sass that is truly shocking to me. If I didn’t know any better, I would think she was thirteen years old! The tone of voice. The looks. The little stink eye. Where did she learn this stuff? Ignoring doesn’t seem to be working. I think I need to bring out the bigger guns though I’m not sure what that means.

And then. Then I remember the absolutely mind blowingly adorable things she does and says. She is a big fan of completely non sequitur “Mommy, I love you” announcements (not that there ever has to be a reason to tell someone you love them, of course). Yesterday on the way to school she announced that this album and books “make me very, very happy.”

Lastly, she has taken to spontaneously hugging Leo (and him, her, though truthfully, I’m not sure who instigates it. My hunch is it’s probably Leo, but she tolerates the love, which is a new and heart warming development.)

And I know that even though it doesn’t seem like it sometimes, I know that someday, I will miss three.

Thursday Listiness

1. After a long string of muggy days of 90+ temperatures, we finally have a reprieve. Summer came too fast and hard for me this year. I can handle this misery in August because I know that pumpkins and caramel apples and cinnamon candles are just around the corner. In June? The heat just makes me crabby.

Sure, Leo doesn't mind the heat. As long as he doesn't have to actually do anything except of course be, you know, cool.

2. Ellie continues to astound me with her little one-liners (more like six or seven or eight liners, really) and her marquee-worthy personality. I know this is not exactly newsworthy or interesting to probably more than a handful of people but, when your first child doesn’t speak for three years and your second child doesn’t stop speaking, well it’s just remarkable to me on a daily basis. Just as remarkable: Leo's uncanny ability to communicate everything with a limited vocabulary.

3. Case in point: Last week Ellie developed a terrible, three-pack-of-Marlboros a day sounding cough. I kept her home and took her to the pediatrician (the day after an all-nighter where she literally coughed all night, in our bed). I assure you that I brought her into said bed because there was absolutely nothing else to do (I am many things but I am not the Family Bed Mom).

4. Well, she was miserable in her crib and she was miserable in our bed. There was just no comfortable position or destination, it was one of those nights where you really question everything: parenting, the meaning of life, why you ever made any decision..you get the point. As a very wise person once said, "the days are long, but the years are short." But when you're a parent and your kid is sick, the nights, they are the longest.

5. And then she woke Leo up around 1 a.m. with all the hacking and crying and carrying on and then it was truly horrific. But bless little Leo who has become quite the compassionate little Florence Nightingale. At one point when my judgment was truly impaired (what do you want? It was 1:14 a.m.) and we were all in the bed together, Leo tried to pat Ellie on the back in an effort to appease the cough but she roared back at him like a little banshee and would have none of his sympathy. In the end, Ellie and I slept in Leo’s bed and Leo and Erin slept in our bed. Don’t ask. We all (sort of) made it through the night.

6. The next morning, the sun came up and poured through the kitchen window, the coffee was made and its comforting aroma permeated the house. The kids got dressed in crisp t-shirts and shorts and had their faces and hands washed. And all was OK again. Proof that everything truly does look better in the morning. Even when you don't sleep. Much.

7. Ellie has not let us forget the novelty that was the whole “go into your room” experience. The actual cough is long gone but she has developed an excellent fake cough which she dusts off around 8:30 every night when she starts asking to “come to your room. Because I have a cough Mommy.” Hack, hack.


8. There’s been a development in Leo’s language and I can’t say I’m bragging too much about this one. “Bad Dog” has been replaced by “Poopy Head.” Yes it’s true. And as annoying and irritating and ridiculous as it is, I admit I’m a teeny bit impressed. Why? Because really, have you spent time with any typical five year old boys lately? I hate to generalize but I think it’s fair to say that most of them pretty much love anything scatological. Calling someone “poopy head” is in my estimation, about as typical five year old behavior as you can find. If only there was a category for “gross out humor” on Leo’s report card. He’s practically advanced. Ah, my boy.

9. In more Leo news, summer school seems to be off to a good start. The extended year program is through the district and runs the month of July, from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. After that Leo takes spends his afternoons at the daycare/aftercare program where Ellie is (known as "Little School" in our house.) He has the same teacher and aides and I think it's essentially the same program during the school year, just abbreviated. One change is that because of the timing (the bus was coming to the house way too late for me to get to work in time), I've been taking Leo to school myself. It's a small change but I find myself enjoying it. It's more time together in the morning and less time for Leo on the bus. Also, I get to see the teacher and the aides every morning as well as some parents. As a working parent it's hard sometimes, I feel like my kid has this whole other life independent of me that I don't get to be a part of. Don't get me wrong, I like that, but to a point. I was worried about how he would do at drop-off. He used to cry and cling to me when I brought him to school but we've seen a huge shift this year. He still looks disappointed to see me go but he lets me leave without a fight. And so far, (knock on wood) no tears. He's really maturing.

10. Lastly, the new look for the blog. Love it? Hate it?

"Mommy, Are You Happy?"

Ellie has a new favorite question.

“Mommy, are you happy?”

She mostly says this when (I can only assume) she senses I’m losing patience (this is an especially common inquiry during the bedtime routine, after the tenth request for water and the fourteenth request for a fallen “bobby” (pacifier) or for “cream for her bottom” or another bandaid for another invisible boo-boo.

And I want to scream, No! I’m exhausted! And hormonal! And hungry! And most of all tired! It’s so, so scary. That she knows me that well and can tell. She’s not even three yet. I can’t get over how sensitive and intuitive she can be at such a young age. Frankly, it terrifies me. If this is three, what will thirteen look like?

And of course I feel guilty. Like, is it that obvious that I’m frustrated? I mean, I think I keep it together pretty well and I actually pride myself on being quite patient (most of the time). Most of the time (there it is again), I master the art of Keep The Voice Calm And Monotone and Don’t Yell Unless Someone Is In Real Danger.

Yesterday morning on the drive to school, Ellie and I were jamming out to the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse soundtrack (don’t ask). It was a glorious spring morning with ample sunshine, just a touch of chill to the air, and the promise that it would reach the precisely right temperature without ever getting uncomfortably warm (that’s coming this weekend, apparently).

Ellie was kicking her legs to the music and nibbling happily on a strawberry fruit bar (her fave), one chubby hand wrapped around her apple juice cup.

It never ceases to amaze and delight me how little it takes to make children happy sometimes, how they delight in the simplest little pleasures.

“Mommy I like this song!” she announced.

“I like this song too Ellie,” I said. “It makes me happy.”

“Oh,” said Ellie, flashing me a huge grin. “And it makes me happy too. Mommy are you happy?”

This is when I got a little teary. I blame the children. It’s uncanny and I admit, often ridiculous. I’ve always been a little prone to the waterworks but since having babies, I know that the amount of crying (OK, tearing up) at the littlest, most mundane things, borders on the absurd. I tear at Leo “reading” a picture book. I tear when Ellie twirls around like a drunken sailor in her little pink cordoroy skirt, announcing “I’m a ballerina!” I tear at those fleeting moments when Leo and Ellie are sitting, hip to hip in the giant Costco cart, giggling and shrieking with delight at some hilarious exchange said in their secret language.

And I tear at the sight of my happy little girl, kicking the seat in the car, eating a fruit bar and listening to Mickey Mouse.

Don’t let the tears fool you. I am happy.

Baby Steps, the Hairy Patient and Watch What You Say

The note in Leo’s “Communication book” from his teacher said it all: “Leo was coughing a lot today.” In other words, take your kid to the flipping doctor or keep him home.

So I picked the kiddos up a little earlier than usual on Wednesday and headed to the doctor. I think it’s been a whole month since our last sick visit. Impressive!

The big news is that Leo allowed the doctor to listen to his chest. I know! He sat quietly and calmly, with nary a squirm while Dr. L confirmed that his lungs were clear. I credit this, which is one of the more popular toys at our house. Leo and Ellie have been doing a lot of medical play lately. And I present to you the world’s most patient patient:

I always say there's a special spot in Heaven for our Ruby.

Granted, Leo still flailed and kicked like the doctor was trying to set his ears on fire when she checked his ears, but hey. Baby steps, right? And the good news is, we left the doctor without a prescription for anything. The doctor simply pronounced Leo "croupy" and said to keep an eye on him.

In other exciting news, I am wearing a short sleeved shirt today! That alone is reason for celebration. Granted I do tend to run “hot blooded,” (i.e. when everyone else is shivering I’m opening a window. In January) but still, the being able to see my bare arms-it feels good. There’s talk of 50 degrees this weekend. Break out the kiddy pool!
***
Here’s a snippet from a morning conversation with Ellie. It’s birthday weekend (Erin’s and mine, 25! I feel so old! Ahem) at our place and so, in an effort to distract Ellie from something distressing on the drive to school this morning (“I don’t want to go to school, I want to stay home with you Mommy, I don’t want Baby Beluga! I want Baby Beluga! I no want my smoothie! I want my smoothie!”)

I give you:

Me: Ellie, do you know what Sunday is?
Ellie (Looking wide-eyed)
Me: It’s Mommy’s Birthday!
Ellie: Oh my god Mommy, you’re so silly!

Oh my god. I know, I know, as if I needed a reminder, but they listen to everything you say, don’t they?

Haircut SOS and Put Down That Book Mommy

I’m sitting here feeling very smug in my new $7 black corduroys. That’s right, seven dollars and they were not purchased at a thrift store. OK, so they were purchased at at a very un-PC store, a store that rhymes with Doll-Art. Ellie helped me pick them out and was excited to proclaim, as I took off one pair of pants to try on another, “Mommy, you don’t have pants on! Your legs are naked!” And bless her heart, she told me all the pants were “too big” even when they decidedly were not. Ahem.

It was a good weekend. Ellie has taken to announcing every night when I pick her and her brother up “No school tomorrow!” so it’s nice when on Friday night I can say “That’s right Ellie! No school tomorrow.”

Ellie took marathon naps both days. It was warm enough to play outside both days. I wonder if my kids are the only ones on the eastern seaboard who ask to eat snack outside. They love to sit at the little table on our deck, fully adorned in snow suits and hats and gloves, and eat applesauce. But this weekend, it must have been 45 degrees with the sun out. I felt like busting out the tank tops and the margaritas. The snow is thinner every day and grass is finally visible after weeks of tundra. We're getting there.

We had grand plans for haircuts for both of the kids (Ellie, to be taken to the mall where she can sit in a pink car with a sucker and Leo, to be held down in front of a never-before-seen Dora episode, with me dangling an ice cream cone). I joked with Erin that I was thinking about trying to find a straight jacket on eBay that might prove useful for a Leo haircut attempt. I was actually only half kidding.

But really, it’s not so funny, because Leo’s hair is reaching new levels of never before seen ridiculousness. I tried to cut the back (which has, as I’ve mentioned, been shooting towards mulletness with frightening speed) while he was sleeping. But he’s so squirmy and so the result was, well…

So we called Leo “Carol” all weekend. And he didn’t seem to mind.

In addition to having bad hair, Leo seemed a little under the weather all weekend, fighting a cold. I thought we'd turned a corner, his cheeks hadn't taken on that scarlet red, chafed appearance they have every other winter of his short life, but finally, the raw redness seems to have struck. I'm buying stock in Aquaphor and chasing him around the house with tubes of it (which he loves, I assure you).

Leo was equal parts cuddly and grouchy on Sunday. There were a lot of outbursts followed by “sorry” and hugs and attempts to crawl into laps. I came home with a stack of promising books at the library and made the foolish attempt to read while he watched "Curious George: The Movie" (another library find). Leo has sonar when it comes to my reading. I can load the dishwasher, mop the kitchen floors, vacuum the entire house and cook a four-course meal while he watches television, but if I make the mistake of trying to read a book of my own interest (i.e. not a picture book) in Leo’s presence? No chance.

In other Leo news, Erin found Leo in his room fully dressed this morning.

While the rest of the house slept, he put this little number together, all by himself! It even matches. I had to quell the OCD mom tendency to change that shirt (it has a few little stains around the neck and it’s technically reserved as a “pajama only” shirt). But Leo was so proud (as we all were) and so I didn’t have the heart to make him put on something else. The shirt truly is him. It's yellow(ish) (his favorite color) and, well, "Bear Hug." I can't think of a term that sums up Leo more than that. He can get violent when I come at him with that Aquaphor, but ultimately, he's a little hugger.

When Did She Become a Person?

Ellie is such a little person these days. I just can’t get over the things she says, how aware she is. How many opinions she has. Oh, the opinions!

And she is such her own person.

Warning: Much Ellie kvelling ahead. This post is probably only suitable for grandparents but feel free to read if you’re feeling patient.

Ellie does not like to get dirty. This fact in itself is proof positive that kids come out of the womb with their own preferences. Because as much as I’m a “neat” person, I will admit that my kid is sometimes that one at the playground with the runny nose or muddy knees. Sure we come home and clean up but out and about? Sometimes I’m just too busy to notice.

But, Ellie: she is always asking me for a napkin while eating. Sunday the kids and I made banana bread. She carefully and precisely peeled six bananas (mushy and sticky and overripe, hence, banana bread material). You should have seen the look of horror on her face when she was left with the sticky hands. A perfect little pout of fear, like, what am I supposed to do with these yucky hands?

You can sort of make out her hesitation in the photos. And the only one where she looks truly comfortable is when she’s touching the butter. She loves butter. Straight. Don’t ask me where she learned to eat it like that.




A few other observations (which I remind you again, might only be of interest to me in the sense of “Blog as memory book” and Ellie’s grandparents, so feel free to skip:

The other morning I decided to drop off some overdue library books before school. I was rushing and pulled out perhaps a tad faster than usual, to beat the next car and Ellie called to me from the backseat, “You OK Mommy? You OK?”

And my she’s bossy! And a dish towel thief to boot! I can’t keep a dishtowel hanging on the oven door to save my life because to Ellie, dish towels are not merely dish towels, oh no, they are dolly blankets.

Yesterday afternoon as she and Leo played, she decided it was time to put Leo down for a nap (Oh how I wish!). She ordered “Lay down Leo! Lay down!” and followed him around with the dish towel, trying to cover him. The funny thing is, Leo actually listened to her. She might be the only person in the house he listens to on a regular basis.

And I can see her imagination brimming with possibilities. Saturday morning she (purposefully, it semed) dropped one of her dolls on the floor. She walked over to me and said “Mommy, baby fall down. She got boo-boo. Need ice.” (Ice in a little plastic baggy is, apparently big at daycare for multiple maladies).

And lastly, and perhaps most hilarious of all, Erin was teasing the kids the other night as they were being loud and silly (the usual at our place). Erin said to Leo and Ellie: “You guys are crazy!”

Ellie’s response: “No! I’m Ellie!”

Last night’s bedtime was a bit of a battlefield. Ellie used to be the “easy” one to put to bed. Now? Unless she is exhausted, actually, make that even when she’s exhausted, she’ll give us every excuse in the book why it’s not time to go to bed. “I have to go potty!” (Always.) “Read more books! I want water right now!”

But the best was when, after crying for a good, solid five minutes, I finally went into her room to see what could be done to console her.

“I need tissue Mommy. I’m all wet,” she said, patting the front of her pajama top. “I cried on myself.”

Oy. Pour salt in my guilty mom wounds. She cried on herself.

Did I mention that this language thing is both a blessing and a curse?

Indeed

Favorite recent Q & A with Ellie: (In a conversation with her over the weekend, while trying to prepare for this week's move to the "toddler room" at daycare...)

Me: Ellie, who's your teacher?

Ellie: Leo!

Surprises (The Good Kind)

The two nights following my last entry were of course, great.

There was a moment on Wednesday night when Leo was ordering me to sit “right here!” (meaning next to him, he copies this from Ellie who tells me where to go constantly). And so there we sat, Leo on one side, Ellie on the other, eating scrambled eggs. Every once in a while Leo would lean over and kiss my arm, rest his soft little head on my shoulder. He’s had a burst of affection lately. He’s always been a sweetie, but kind of like a cat, on his own terms. That seems to be changing. I can rub his back and he doesn’t flinch, and he’s taken to leaning on me, resting his round little baseball mit shaped hand on my knee, during book time before bed. It tears me up a little.

When Leo is good, he is very, very good.

This morning he helped me take the garbage out. He calmly went downstairs without making too much noise and waking Ellie. He put on his coat without making me chase him around the house. Two mornings in a row he has walked directly to the car and climbed into his carseat without straying (he is famous for the fake-out-sprint-toward-the-street-heart-attack-to-mommy-move).

I just want to give him the credit where it’s due.

Another huge thing? This is the first time since he was an infant (ah … he was such a sweet, agreeable, mellow little baby…) that he has taken medication without needing to be put into a headlock. He was put on oral antibiotics for strep throat last week. As I prepared his first dose I steeled myself, preparing for the usual violence when I tried to give him the penicillin. I was caught off-guard by the illness and was out of yogurt smoothie (which is what I normally mix his antibiotics with) so was concerned about him taking it “straight.”

Imagine my surprise when he just took it straight, without objection, without commotion. He took it in the syringe that is awesome (thanks Amy!) in three calm swallows.

It brings to mind one of the best pieces of parenting advice I’ve ever been given. I was in the early days of sleep hell with Ellie and my friend Lisa (otherwise known as the Sleep Master, she has all three of her kids (twins and a singleton, all under 2!) in bed by 7 p.m. every night (and yes they sleep through the night). Yes she is a golden god, but that is another topic.

“Try it again,” Lisa said to me, when I was whining and moaning about all the sleep techniques that didn’t work. “If it didn’t work last week, try it again this week. They change every day.”

She is SO right. It’s been the case more with Ellie than Leo, just because at this rate their speed of development is so different--Leo’s stages seem so molasses slow sometimes that I forget that he will change. He will mature. But this week he took his medicine like a big boy, not a wild animal. It is a nice reminder. My little boy is growing up.

I need to give him the room to change. I am so quick to assume that he can't or won't do things. And he is capable of so much.

In no particular order, some events of note that are not all that notable, but mostly I just want to remember them.

-Ellie has become very interested in watching me put on my makeup. It is pretty much the last thing I do before leaving the house—I quickly apply a little powder, blush, eyeliner and mascara—an attempt to look slightly human and not exhausted—at the mirror by mudroom door. No matter what she is doing Ellie now races to my side when she sees the makeup bag come out. She runs the blush brush through her hair and tries her hardest to get the mascara open. She dug a hole in my pressed powder with her index finger—oops. I find her fascination both frightening and adorable.

-Leo’s been putting more and more sentences together! This week I’ve heard: “Dee-dee, more Dora” and “Dee-dee, more pasta, here.” Also, “Dee-dee, play, eat,” which means he wants to eat breakfast downstairs in the playroom, something I let him do when I am desperate to keep him out of my hair during the breakfast-lunch-being-made-in-the-morning-crunch.

-Ellie is also putting more and more sentences together. She also said "Mommy pasta here." Something about that pasta seems to really provoke language. Must share this phenomenon with Leo's ST.

-Ellie ate chips and salsa this week. I should add this was medium salsa. Not at all mild. She didn’t blink. In fact she seemed to enjoy it because she didn’t stop and flames didn’t shoot out of her ears. I watched her closely with the chip and she did fine. I wouldn’t make a habit out of this but she was insistent (she saw me eating it). Of course, we’re talking about a person who at barely one year old vigorously and happily gulped down saag paneer, so why should I be surprised by a little salsa.

Like I said, I need to remember they can surprise me, in good ways.

Bobby

Because I think we all need some levity around here, and just because I feel like sharing (and also, in this is probably only cute cause it's my kid but I have to report it anyway news: Ellie has named her pacifier. Its name is Bobby.

By the way, I know I know, she's almost 21 months and really shouldn't have a paci anymore but sue me, she only gets it in her crib and in the car. That's the rule.

Sunday I drove Erin's car to music class because Ellie's car seat was still in the backseat. Ellie is so accustomed to getting her pacifier in the car that as we drove away, immediate cries of "Bobby! Bobby!" were heard from the back.

It took me a few seconds to figure out who/what she was talking about.

Now we all know who Bobby is.

Uppy! Uppy! Uppy!

So, it's completely normal for an almost 20-month-old to be super whiney and wanting to be held a lot, right? To demand to be "Uppy," repeatedly?

I'm not sure what's up with Ellie but from nearly the minute she gets up to the minute she goes down at night, she is all (asking for) "Uppy" all the time. Maybe teething? Maybe another (please, no) ear infection? She felt a little warm when I left her at daycare but maybe that's oh because she screamed the whole way to daycare. That's another new development. Screaming in the car in the morning. I'm not loving it and it sends poor Leo into full on trance mode. He covers his entire face with his hat. I can't say that I blame him.

I had been chalking the evening whining up to working mother's guilt. She misses me and that's why she wants me to hold her from the second we get home (yes folks that's while I'm making dinner, even). I was cheered to learn when she was home sick last week and also in this last long weekend that she just gets extra whiney around 5:30, daycare or not. And I've fallen into a terrible habit of letting her sit on my lap while she eats her dinner. If I dare to step away a moment she scoots her chair over to me, pats the seat and says "Mommy!" If it wasn't so incovenient it would be adorable.

Anyway, it's a whole lot of "Uppy" at our house right now. Or at least requests to be "Uppy." It's not like I hold her all the time or anything. But I have been known to be suckered more than a few times.

I guess if she's like this for a few more days I'll take her to the doctor (she also has a cold). It might just be another ear infection. If that's the case I think it's probably time for her to see an ENT.

In good Ellie news, she is starting to put words together. She said "Hi Mama" to Erin on the phone. That's the kind of Ellie news I prefer to report.

We Live and Also, I am a Space Cadet

I think I have broken a record in not blogging. I have had dozens of posts started in my head but there's been Thanksgiving and a busy weekend and a sick Ellie. I have wanted to write about finding long lost relatives, taking the kids to the train show at the New York Botanical Garden (thumbs up) and getting the Christmas tree and Hanukkah Bush (the earliest we've ever done it, much levity is needed this year), and decorating the house and about the new bakeware I bought at Costco and all my optimistic plans to branch out and try some new recipes for holiday cookies this year.

I am on day #2 of staying home with a sick Ellie. She wasn't herself this weekend, but considering she is cutting all four molars and both eye teeth, we chalked it up to teething and also maybe a little cold. But I had that sinking feeling Monday morning when I dropped her off at daycare (and the nagging guilt) and sure enough, just as I sat down to enjoy my Mexican lunch at my desk, I got The Call. Come pick her up. I took her straight to the doctor where she was diagnosed with an ear infection. We were sent home with a prescription and I knew I would at least be home Tuesday. Here's where I give a shout out to my neighborhood pharmacy and I give thanks once again that as much as I sometimes miss the Thai takeout, I'm grateful we no longer live in Brooklyn. I'm pretty sure the pharmacy there would not bring my baby's prescription to my car, go back in to run my credit card and then come back out for me to sign the receipt (Ellie was asleep in the car). Long live the suburbs.

This morning, the plan was to take Ellie to daycare and see how she eased into her return while I took Leo to his follow-up ENT appointment (following his ear cleaning/tube exam sedation two weeks ago). I told the daycare I'd check in with them after Leo's appointment and before I headed into the city for work. Again, with the sinking feeling, as Ellie did NOT look happy to be at daycare when I left her. I sort of knew I'd be back to get her shortly.

Leo was ecstatic to leave daycare, and as an added bonus, alone, with me! No Ellie! Poor guy had no idea we were headed somewhere not so fun, probably his most hated doctor of all, the dreaded ear doctor. But for a moment he had a skip in his step and kept saying "yay" just because. He said hi to everyone on the walk from the car to the doctor's office.

Too bad his appointment isn't actually until tomorrow.

And seriously, I even double checked it. I honestly don't know what my problem was/is. In my defense, sleep has been sucking at our house lately. Two nights in a row Leo has woken up in the middle of the night and ended up in our bed. Sleeping with Leo is like sleeping with an epileptic octopus. There is no other way to describe it. I think he absolutely must have Restless Leg Syndrome. And did I mention he insists on sleeping On me? Like practically on top of me. And last night getting Ellie down was the worst since her newborn days, when she would fall asleep and then wake up with a start, the second we set her down in the Pack N Play. Erin (aka the Baby Whisperer) was finally able to get Ellie down after an hour of me rocking and nuzzling her).

After the morning's dress rehersal for the ENT appointment, I took Leo to school (he was NOT happy about the end of just Mommy and Me, collapsing into a puddle in the parking lot). And then I was back to the daycare to retrieve the still sick Ellie.

So. It's almost 2pm and I have just now finally succeeded in getting Ellie down for a nap (she normally naps around 10am). I feel bad missing work and am optimistic about tomorrow. I don't know what to do. This is when I wish we had a retired grandmother close by. Or any relative, for that matter. But that is a post for another day.

In the meantime, I am vascillating between taking advantage of this quiet moment to lay on the couch and watch "Shakespeare in Love" or cooking an actual dinner for later (as opposed to the usual thaw and stir fry Trader Joe's entree that is our nightly fare). I did all the laundry yesterday so there's nothing else to do (well, truthfully I could do a lot but choose not to. This morning I noticed the lower kitchen cabinets are caked with some sort of yogurt/oatmeal substance and there is always the kitchen floor to mop but I fear that I have hit a bit of a housekeeping wall). Leo is still at school so I should really, really just savor the temporary quiet.

In good news, Ellie has learned a new word being home and sick: juice. Also, she has become quite an expert at "No." I know I will tire of it soon but for now, her little cute baby girl voice saying "no" is pretty freaking adorable. Also, she is mastering body parts--her absolute favorite is nose. I can only conjecture that since mine is on the large side she finds it to be the most fascinating facial body part.

Please say it isn't so. She's been asleep not even 30 minutes and I hear crying. Oy.

Mommy, Turkey socks, et all

It’s a bullet kind of day. Honestly, it’s been a bullet kind of week.

So, a few things:

-Ellie said “Mommy” to me this morning. She’s said “Mama” but that’s Erin’s name. I’m Mommy (dammit!). Leo has still never said it (he actually calls me “dee-dee,” don’t ask). But this morning, when I went into Ellie’s room to get her up for the day, she started chanting “Mommy, Mommy.” Very exciting!

-Poor Ellie has been exhausted the last few evenings, like so tired I think she could go straight to bed after dinner tired. Unfortunately due to work schedules/logistics, that’s not possible. It just really sucks that the only Ellie-time I get during the week is cranky Ellie time, in which she spends most of her time running over to me and throwing herself into my arms/the back of my legs, depending on whether I’m sitting or standing. She just collapses into a puddle of sad, exhausted, whiney toddler tears. Pathetic. I’ve asked them to try to put her down for an afternoon nap at daycare. Hopefully that will help.

-Leo’s almost done with the antibiotics for his ear infection but he is still complaining about the “bee” in his ear. And he has started SCREAMING, as in talking VERY LOUD. I know little boys are loud but this is ridiculous. So I think we’re dealing with some fluid issues. As I said, his ped pronounced one of his tubes “falling out so it’s not doing it’s job.” Great. We’re going to the ENT this coming Wednesday. I moved the appointment up.

-I am using all the strength I can muster to not spend $40 on socks and tights. I have a 20 percent off coupon for a great sock and tight website (I know, who knew?). I am doing what I usually do when I want to shop but not spend money, which is put all the stuff I want in my “basket” and then look at it throughout the day. Usually by the end of the day I don’t care so much. But socks are so fun! They always fit! And they are cheaper than shoes. And don’t even get me started on how much I love knee highs. I mean, really, aren’t these cute (minus the slutty mini-skirt of course)



And I know they're a little corny, but how adorable are these?
You may as well know I am a sucker for holiday themed socks. Yes I wore pumpkin socks leading up to and on Halloween and I'll wear Santa/reindeer/holly socks leading up to and on Christmas. Now i just need the turkeys to complete the trinity of late-year holidays...

-I am not enjoying the time change. It is dark as night when I leave my office. OK it is night. It was fine when I was on maternity leave/cozy at home. But commuting in the dark? Not so fun.

All By (Ourselves)

Sunday Erin took Leo while Ellie and I enjoyed Girl’s Afternoon at Target. The trip was necessitated by a need for more underwear for Leo. A lot more.

But I digress.

It was so interesting to be alone with Ellie. I don’t know if it’s because her little personality gets steamrolled by Leo (otherwise known as the Greeter of the World who has to say Hi to everyone). But it turns out Miss Ellie is perhaps the runner-up in the Greeter of the World contest. On Sunday she said hi to pretty much everyone within earshot. I know I’m her mother but it was so adorable, her tiny little voice and these shocked people who heard her speak and then did sort of double-takes. Was this little person talking to them?

I also noticed how relaxed I felt. And how nice it was to not be spending so much time on “damage control,” that is, keeping Leo from grabbing everything Ellie touched, as well as keeping Ellie from aggravating Leo to death. It was good for both of us. Note to self: more of this (for each kid).

Bye-bye

This morning as I was leaving daycare Ellie was standing at the baby gate and I was at the end of the hall. I said "bye-bye," turned to leave and heard a little voice say "bye-bye." I turned, and she was not only saying, it but waving!
I am so proud!

She Talks! She Dances!

Ellie is saying “yeah.” She has an adorable high pitched voice and she says “yeah” in a sing-songy way, sometimes to herself, as we’re driving and she’s kicking her legs happily in her car seat. Sometimes “yeah” is in response to something she enjoys, like the sight of me holding a bag of frozen blueberries or Veggie Booty. I can’t get enough of the cute little Ellie “yeahs.” Sometimes she and Leo will have “yeah” conversations, back and forth.

Ellie is also dancing. She will dance upon request. I discovered this the other day when I was holding her and I went to turn on the news on the radio. The music NPR sometimes plays between segments came on and immediately Ellie shook her shoulders and bobbed her head. I started laughing and she looked at me and smiled. I said “Ellie, are you dancing?” And she danced again. Oh my goodness the cuteness!