Do you think he's trying to tell me something...or NOT tell me something!
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
The Cookie Cutters
I couldn't neglect to write this down!
On Friday Emery was napping and Payton asked to play with her lunchbox full of metal cookie cutters. I was a little too busy cleaning and talking to a friend.
"Momma", she calls. "Can you help me get these off?"
I come around from the kitchen and can't seem to find what she's talking about. She laid down on the floor and pulls up her pant legs.
"Oh my goodness", I said.
Payton had fashioned herself with an "O" cookie cutter on her left leg and a "Q" cookie cutter on her right...above the knee!
I tried pulling a little at first but soon found they wouldn't budge. So I lathered her up with dish soap and a little water and slowly worked the letters off, trying not to laugh. She wasn't seeing the humor in it at the moment and I was trying VERY hard to keep that in mind.
I gave her a hug and asked if she would be doing that again.
She said, "No. I'll just put them on my arms instead".
On Friday Emery was napping and Payton asked to play with her lunchbox full of metal cookie cutters. I was a little too busy cleaning and talking to a friend.
"Momma", she calls. "Can you help me get these off?"
I come around from the kitchen and can't seem to find what she's talking about. She laid down on the floor and pulls up her pant legs.
"Oh my goodness", I said.
Payton had fashioned herself with an "O" cookie cutter on her left leg and a "Q" cookie cutter on her right...above the knee!
I tried pulling a little at first but soon found they wouldn't budge. So I lathered her up with dish soap and a little water and slowly worked the letters off, trying not to laugh. She wasn't seeing the humor in it at the moment and I was trying VERY hard to keep that in mind.
I gave her a hug and asked if she would be doing that again.
She said, "No. I'll just put them on my arms instead".
My Three Hours
I am nearing the end of the dreaded three hour glucose screening. The lab tech just told me that all this is pointless because there is a simple blood test they can do that measures something in your hemoglobin. So do the doctors just want to make us angry and take 3 hours (which is really more like four and a half) away from our day? It's enough they don't listen to you as it is but then stick you in a lab for countless hours drinking orange crack and getting stabbed by tiny needles every half hour? AH!
Emery is sick, poor little thing. I was naive in thinking that having her wait OUTSIDE the waiting room away from the children wearing masks would help. Apparently not. Thank you hospital and thank you sick children.
Payton burned her hand, or I should say fingers, for the first time helping me make chocolate chip pancakes. It was a small burn that apparently warranted a HUGE reaction. She cried for a good hour I think. But in the process I learned how to shove an ice pack into a pretty sock and make her take Motrin really quickly. She was more than happy to cuddle and then more than happy to sleep. How is exhausting it is to hurt!
I should have used this time to reminisce on the few days I haven't written. Maybe I'll try.
Emery had her 1 year developmental follow up at WVU hospital. I think they were quite impressed with her, ummm...energy. She said "Hi", "Uh-oh" and gave a couple of samples of her endless barrage of expressions. She glared, she cried and she smiled. All in all it was a good day. She's at the 35th percentile for an 11 month old...at 14 months old (corrected 11) so she's just a little thing. Her eyes are great and will be even better once she gets her tear duct opened next week.
A doctor thinks I may have diabetes...hence the three hour glucose. We will see...nothing with me is ever normal so I'll NOT be surprised to hear I passed it.
Clark...he hasn't left me yet amazingly enough. He's working hard every day...going in and coming home. He gives me my 5:00 happy hour every day when he walks in the door, even if I don't reciprocate it's always nice to see him.
I was looking though my pictures on facebook and a couple stuck out. There was one of me, holding Payton before her second birthday. When it was still just the three of us. It's amazing how much can change in so little time. Since then, we've added two more children. I hope she still feels as special as she is.
Emery is sick, poor little thing. I was naive in thinking that having her wait OUTSIDE the waiting room away from the children wearing masks would help. Apparently not. Thank you hospital and thank you sick children.
Payton burned her hand, or I should say fingers, for the first time helping me make chocolate chip pancakes. It was a small burn that apparently warranted a HUGE reaction. She cried for a good hour I think. But in the process I learned how to shove an ice pack into a pretty sock and make her take Motrin really quickly. She was more than happy to cuddle and then more than happy to sleep. How is exhausting it is to hurt!
I should have used this time to reminisce on the few days I haven't written. Maybe I'll try.
Emery had her 1 year developmental follow up at WVU hospital. I think they were quite impressed with her, ummm...energy. She said "Hi", "Uh-oh" and gave a couple of samples of her endless barrage of expressions. She glared, she cried and she smiled. All in all it was a good day. She's at the 35th percentile for an 11 month old...at 14 months old (corrected 11) so she's just a little thing. Her eyes are great and will be even better once she gets her tear duct opened next week.
A doctor thinks I may have diabetes...hence the three hour glucose. We will see...nothing with me is ever normal so I'll NOT be surprised to hear I passed it.
Clark...he hasn't left me yet amazingly enough. He's working hard every day...going in and coming home. He gives me my 5:00 happy hour every day when he walks in the door, even if I don't reciprocate it's always nice to see him.
I was looking though my pictures on facebook and a couple stuck out. There was one of me, holding Payton before her second birthday. When it was still just the three of us. It's amazing how much can change in so little time. Since then, we've added two more children. I hope she still feels as special as she is.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Selective Learning
It's dinner time. Emery has littered the floor with her dinner, Clark is holding Jackson and Payton is chewing loudly on her turkey hot dog.
I quietly watch Payton and am struck by something. Earlier in the day I heard her yelling "NO" at Emery because she was climbing on Jack's swing (again). She's sarcastic, just like mommy and daddy and she picks up phrases here and there that we would rather her not pick up. No cussing, but a little too smart for a three year old.
But...why is that she chooses NOT to pick up on the fact that we chew with our mouths shut, say please and thank you and that we don't hit each other!
It's selective learning.
------
The day was great and short. The two sometimes seem to go together. Payton was able to wear her costume to school. I, of course, was the only parent NOT attending the Halloween party. It broke my heart a little to see her run out of the party, pretty pink little wings her blonde hair falling out in little strands around her face.
"Moooooommy!" She yelled with her usual grin. "Look at my bag!"
She had a white paper bag filled with different treats different parents made for the class. All I could think in the beginning was that, "wow, I missed that somewhere on the newsletter. I should have sent something". Her teacher, Miss Pam was walking behind her carrying her bookbag and I automatically start to apologize for not being there. She understands, they all do. I have two little ones at home and I shouldn't be expected to attend. But still, I'm a little sad.
I would have loved to see her prance around as a little princess fairy. Is this the beginning of missing things, or is this my lesson to not miss anymore?
------
Emery is learning so much, so very quickly. It's amazing to me that she started life only on a prayer that she would live...let alone really LIVE. She's a fighter though, that's obvious. She fought to stay alive, and now she'll fight for a Cherrio!
Today, she held my hand and walked like a big girl from the kitchen all the way to the living room, not missing a step.
The ONLY scar my little miracle possesses from her early birth is a tiny red mark. It's a small, red mark, under her chin from tape that either held her ventilator or her feeding tube.
Mommy's scars may run a little deeper, but my baby is whole, and fine...and almost walking.
----
Jackson...I think you're holding out a smile for mommy. Any day now my boy, any day.
I quietly watch Payton and am struck by something. Earlier in the day I heard her yelling "NO" at Emery because she was climbing on Jack's swing (again). She's sarcastic, just like mommy and daddy and she picks up phrases here and there that we would rather her not pick up. No cussing, but a little too smart for a three year old.
But...why is that she chooses NOT to pick up on the fact that we chew with our mouths shut, say please and thank you and that we don't hit each other!
It's selective learning.
------
The day was great and short. The two sometimes seem to go together. Payton was able to wear her costume to school. I, of course, was the only parent NOT attending the Halloween party. It broke my heart a little to see her run out of the party, pretty pink little wings her blonde hair falling out in little strands around her face.
"Moooooommy!" She yelled with her usual grin. "Look at my bag!"
She had a white paper bag filled with different treats different parents made for the class. All I could think in the beginning was that, "wow, I missed that somewhere on the newsletter. I should have sent something". Her teacher, Miss Pam was walking behind her carrying her bookbag and I automatically start to apologize for not being there. She understands, they all do. I have two little ones at home and I shouldn't be expected to attend. But still, I'm a little sad.
I would have loved to see her prance around as a little princess fairy. Is this the beginning of missing things, or is this my lesson to not miss anymore?
------
Emery is learning so much, so very quickly. It's amazing to me that she started life only on a prayer that she would live...let alone really LIVE. She's a fighter though, that's obvious. She fought to stay alive, and now she'll fight for a Cherrio!
Today, she held my hand and walked like a big girl from the kitchen all the way to the living room, not missing a step.
The ONLY scar my little miracle possesses from her early birth is a tiny red mark. It's a small, red mark, under her chin from tape that either held her ventilator or her feeding tube.
Mommy's scars may run a little deeper, but my baby is whole, and fine...and almost walking.
----
Jackson...I think you're holding out a smile for mommy. Any day now my boy, any day.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
A Permanent Marker
So I am cleaning...again. I'm sweeping the floor trying to get the majority of Emery's food off of the floor. It's 8:30 and this is probably the third time today that I have had to clean the floor. She thinks it's hilarious to clear her tray in about one minute flat and then scream because she's hungry!
I look up, and there it is - or should I say there SHE is. The oldest, Payton, sporting trendy lime green permanent marker all over her hands, face and clothes. But, nothing says "don't let toddlers play with a permanent marker" like beautiful shapes and symbols scribbled all.over.the.wall.
Lovely.
I take the marker, not so gingerly, cussing myself under my breath and not understanding why in the hell I find this so surprising.
Part of me wants to cry, the other yell, and the other clean - very quickly. I'm scrubbing the wall and thinking, "this is what my life is now? Seriously?".
I look over, she's sitting quietly in the corner, her head down, sniffling. It's then I realize that, yes, I am blessed if this is what my life will be. The realization that I am the luckiest 'reformed party chic turned mommy and wife' in the entire world started with one beautiful little girl and a permanent marker.
I look up, and there it is - or should I say there SHE is. The oldest, Payton, sporting trendy lime green permanent marker all over her hands, face and clothes. But, nothing says "don't let toddlers play with a permanent marker" like beautiful shapes and symbols scribbled all.over.the.wall.
Lovely.
I take the marker, not so gingerly, cussing myself under my breath and not understanding why in the hell I find this so surprising.
Part of me wants to cry, the other yell, and the other clean - very quickly. I'm scrubbing the wall and thinking, "this is what my life is now? Seriously?".
I look over, she's sitting quietly in the corner, her head down, sniffling. It's then I realize that, yes, I am blessed if this is what my life will be. The realization that I am the luckiest 'reformed party chic turned mommy and wife' in the entire world started with one beautiful little girl and a permanent marker.
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