Showing posts with label Zoe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Zoe. Show all posts

Thursday, May 6, 2010

One of *those* days

It started off innocently. Zoe slept in her room last night, Turtle started to gently wake me by sitting beside me and babbling away about Lana (his favorite person of late). I smiled at the day and rolled over to fetch my glasses. Before I had them on my face, Zoe burst into the room demanding, "I WANT SOME CHEESE!" And good morning to you too ma'am.

And that set the tone for the rest of the day. I grumbled as I stumbled out of bed, and noticed my dreads had a mind of their own today. I washed them in the bath last night, instead of the shower, then I went to sleep with them still wet. Bad. Idea. Messy and untameable. I was too tired to care at that point. Besides, I was too busy picking up cheese that Zoe had taken upon herself to get out of the fridge before promptly concluding that she wasn't actually in a cheesy mood after all, plus the shredded cheese looks much prettier all over the carpet...

I cooked a yummy breakfast, quinoa, mushrooms fried in coconut oil, toasted burger buns and scrambled egg with parmesan. The kids wolfed it down. Happy tummies, surely that can only mean good things, right?

As I started to pick up breakfast, Zoe thought it would be funny to pick up the plates with leftovers and throw them all over the room. Hey, I'm super mom, I can handle it. I displayed patience, redirected her efforts to something more wholesome, put on some awesome music and started cleaning. I felt fed up with the clutter everywhere and decided this weekend we will do a big declutter and I was also putting a ban on visiting any more yard sales. The mess was wearing me down.

I picked up some veggies to put in the fridge and as I opened the door, 3 half gallon glass jars full of raw milk came flying out as the section they were in caved under the weight. I watched them soar in slow motion while they made an impressive clatter and thud, and then smash. One jar bit the dust. My two Clingons, (Zoe and Turtle of course) didn't seem to understand that, "GET AWAY FROM HERE OR YOU WILL CUT YOUR FOOT!!" has no hidden meaning and is a pretty important instruction to follow. Moreso, they thought their Mum was the most fun lady ever, to so kindly provide a milk river here in their very own kitchen for them to paddle in. I franticly tried to move my hands fast enough that they almost seemed like more than two hands, a pair to grab towels with, a pair to hold kids back with, a pair to mop up milk with and a pair to pick up glass shards with. Super mum or what?

Exhausted after the exertion and feeling rather fed up, I sat down for a 5 minute breather before getting back to cleaning. That's when I remembered my job isn't just Mom, or Cleaning Lady, but also Referee, and a 5 minute breather from being ref isn't such a good idea while the game is still very much on. A few scratches, kicks, loud noises and tears later, I decided I should get back to work. I tried to bring about world peace, or close enough anyway, then go back about my business.

A few minutes into cleaning, Kaya screamed up at me that Zoe had just smashed a very important cabinet and there was glass everywhere. By this point, I just gave up the super mom facade. I did the multi pairs of arms thing again while Turtle pouted at my feet, "hug, hug" and the kids' tv show yelled obnoxiously in my ear and the glass repeatedly poked through my bag and fell back to the floor. I suddenly snapped, and summed up my most authoritarian voice, "Kaya and Lana, switch off the tv show right now, get upstairs and tidy your room!".

They whined and whined (I could have asked them much more gently and got a better response, shame on me), fought with each other and screamed about how they had the worst Mum ever. Lana point blank refused to help. Kaya screamed at her about it and refused to help if Lana wasn't. Turtle was desperate for some comfort after the cabinet had broken and frightened him, and was scared with all the screaming, so he followed me, tugging at my clothes and crying. Zoe wasn't making any noise. She was too busy pulling out all the baby wipes, tearing them to shreds and throwing them around the room. Confetti. Wow. Fun.

It was a pivotal moment. I allowed the confetti to be therapeutic to watch and I imagined a rhythm in the "You're a horrible mum" "I won't help tidy until She says SORRY" "hug hug hug hug" while I contemplated whether I was going to crack and lose it, or do something else. Something else sounded like the more righteous option, but what was that something? I've just gotta get out. I have to get out. "Kids. Clothes on, shoes on. We're going out." No idea where, but we'll figure something out.

Rene kindly met us and took us to lunch. He only gets a 30 minute lunch break so it was rushed, and I couldn't say much, but it was like a breath of fresh, ocean air after spending a week at a landfill. I needed him, and he helped set things in perspective just by seeing his face. The kids spilled juice all over the place, and I'm sure it was a much less relaxing lunch than he's used to, but I hope he knows how much I appreciated it.

After he returned to work I realized I was not ready to go home yet. I was also suddenly aware that Turtle was covered in tomato sauce, had no shoes on, very dirty feet and hair was sticking up every which way, Zoe was wearing the same messy clothes she wore all day yesterday, I was wearing a huge baggy shirt that I had slept in, my hair had still not been fixed Kaya's hair was like one giant dreadlock and Lana was mismatched. I have never looked so...People of Walmart. Oh well, not much I can do about that at this point.

We went to toys R us with no intention of spending any money. 5 minutes into our adventure, Zoe squats down and her face goes red. "Ok girls, I know we just got here, but we need to go to the car to change Zoe's diaper, then we'll come back". Insert mutterings of discontent. Zoe didn't like the idea either, so she took off, as fast as she could go, which is pretty darn fast, by the way. I told Kaya to stay beside her brother (who was in the cart) while I launched into a sprint to try to catch her. While Zoe darted in and out of the aisles, trying to lose me completely, I ran into Kaya wandering at one point. "You are supposed to stay with your BROTHER!" I wasn't gaining on Zoe at all. The folks who work at the store, who usually insist on asking, "can I help you find anything today" this time simply watched me with their mouths agap as I bolted across the store, trying to outsmart Zoe, but failing miserably.

Then she just stopped. Ok, this must be a trick. She let me approach her. She looked a little worried. She muttered something, but I was lost in my rush of victory to take it in. It was only as I was scooping her up that I replayed her words and realized they were something like, "Oh no, my diaper, the poop is falling". I put her in the cart and noticed she was covered in excrement. And now so was I. My huge, baggy tshirt was smeared with brown, my hand was fairly redecorated.

I pushed them out to the car only to realize we had no diapers or wipes. I tried to clean it as best as I could with some napkins. But it was just not happening. I found a diaper, loaded them back in the cart and back into the store. Still covered in poop. Straight to the bathrooms, washed up, washed her bum, turned my huge baggy shirt inside out, "So the poop is next to your BODY? Ew" "yes Kaya, so the poop is next to my body. Because I love it, that's why" then went out and spent an hour, People of Walmart fashion, poking at toys and not buying anything.

Then we went to the pet store to look at the animals, but Kaya got an upset tummy and started rolling around the floor, melodrama style. I'm just going to rush the rest of the story, because Daddy is home now "phew" and there are some more disasters building up. We eventually went out to the lake and played pirates. It was a fun escape. Then I stopped at a yard sale and bought some more junk. Yes, I did. Zoe ran away at the yard sale and I had to chase her across some foreign neighborhood, leaving Kaya with the littles in someone elses yard. We piled in the car, drove around in circles. Watched some men throw balls to their dogs. Visited a portapotty for fun. And eventually had to come back home. Back to the landfill. Back to reality.

One of those days.





Wednesday, March 31, 2010

What's been going on then?

We've had some nice weather



I enjoy comparing to how crap the weather is back home. A good gloat now and then can't do harm.

We're been sick, but determined not to let it completely get us down. So in the past couple of days we've been outdoors, planting seeds, flying kites, playing games, having picnics, building planters,



dying eggs (which Zoe then ate when we weren't looking!), swinging, riding bikes (the kids anyway), going for walks and having fun.

I wanted to update on the Clindamycin situation. Thanks so much for all your advice. We figured out something that works. Thankfully, Turtle is the most incredibly sweet natured boy so this really works. I start with one fork with a tiny bit of peanut butter and the pudding on it, no medicine and tell him, "this is the yummy one". He takes it enthusiastically. Then I layer one big spoon with peanut butter, then pudding, then empty the entire capsule on it, then cover it again with pudding and a couple dods of peanut butter on the tip. I am honest and say, "now here's the yucky one, open up nice and big". He cringes and opens up, sometimes I have to help him open it wider, but he takes it. He saves it in his mouth for a while before he can bring himself to swallow. You can see him shudder a couple of times.




I give him loads of praise and he dances to it and feels dead chuffed. He then sucks his other medication down as though it were sweet honey, in desperation to remove the flavor. So it's working, it's not pleasant, but he's taking his doses.

I wanted to share a funny from Zoe this morning. She heard us singing, "our God is a great big God" and joined in, "Our God is a zing bing bong". She couldn't tell what we were singing.



We're had some awesome conversations about grace. I love how my Uncle Fred explained it once, that in a system of law if you do something right you awe rewarded. If you do something wrong you are punished. Jesus died and flipped it. You do something wrong you are rewarded, and if you are righteous you are punished. Well, only one has ever been 100% right, blameless, and he was punished to initiate this system of grace. So now, even though we mess up and do things wrong, we are rewarded! Rewarded with unconditional love, with comfort, heaven, with forgiveness. It's mind blowing. Of course, it doesn't mean we sin more to gain more reward. The reward is already ours to claim. My kids are so wise, they say things that really get me thinking and they grasp spiritual concepts so easily. I remember how it was before my mind got clouded with grown up stuff. I want to be more like that again.


I'm loving this time of year. I'm coming out of hibernation and coming alive again. I'm ready to move and groove and shake it up a bit. Hibernation is great and all, but time moves strangely in the house. It's hard to tell one day from another. You lay down in bed and it feels like you were just there a moment ago, though at the time it had seemed like a really long day. You get sucked in and the longer you stay in the harder it is to ever leave. But then the grass turns green and the birds sing and you swear one of them said your name, so you do leave and you're so glad you did. We're waiting for Turtle to be done with his meds and then we're going to go camping, baby. Any suggestions for vegetarian camping food would be much appreciated.

Happy Spring everybody. And Happy Easter. Celebrate the weather, celebrate the awesome new system of grace. It's all good.




Wednesday, February 24, 2010

I guess there was a moral to the story after all

Remember this post?

Turns out my instincts were right after all. He did have something very wrong with his leg, and there wasn't an accident or something that I missed.

The story starts Thursday night. He started limping again and complaining that he was sore. Since the ER had said it was probably a muscle strain and they could do nothing we decided on Friday to call and make an appointment with a chiropractor. The appointment was set for Tuesday. But by Saturday morning it was still sore and we thought it seemed more serious than just a muscle pain. So we took him to the walk in clinic.

A few hours of chasing incredibly ansty kids around the waiting room later and an uncomfortable blood test later we were sent home with a prescription for amoxycilin.

By Sunday he couldn't bare weight on it and it was swelling and red and hot and he was getting fevers which came and went. We watched him carefully all day and by evening we decided it was just getting worse, so we took him in to the ER.

ER was busy. Zoe and busy ER waiting rooms don't go well together, so we learned. We got there at 6.30 pm and he was finally taken through to be seen at 9pm. In the interim Zoe had crawled under chairs, messed with people's catheters, ran out the front doors, jumped off of tables, upturned tables, climbed up walls, rattled door handles, pulled emergency cables in the bathroom, screamed her head off and continuously bolted down the hospital corridor. She is much faster than her fat, unfit mother and it must be highly amusing to watch me flop around with a red frustrated face while I do my very darnest to run as fast as I can down this very long corridor, reaching my hand out in front of me, inches away from catching her, Zoe flying a couple paces ahead of me with a look of utter excitement and laughing an evil laugh, soaking up the thrill of the chase all the while.

When they called "Glenn" at 9pm we were so relieved. Rene had the privilege of remaining with the 3 girls in the waiting room while I sat in the chair in the ER ward with a sleeping baby, waiting for the Drs to come. They did some more xrays and took some more blood, then at midnight they told us we'd have to transfer to the ER at the Children's hospital in Omaha. I was a little shocked to be honest.

We carted 3 exhausted, hungry (hadn't had supper), confused kids in the car and started our 75 minute journey into Omaha. When we got there, Rene sat with the girls in the waiting room again, but this time they were all sleeping and it was much easier!! By 4am we were admitted and the other half of my family went to spend the night in the rainbow house nearby.

Turns out he has a violent bacterial infection in his knee. They were concerned that it had been going on for 3 weeks and one major worry was that he'd have permanent damage to his cartilage. Monday afternoon he went under general anesthetic and they did an MRI on his tissue and then cut open his knee to remove as much pus as they could and then inserted a drainage tube.

Rene and the kids were back in Lincoln gathering some supplies. He had the day off on Monday but his PTO is all used up. So we knew he'd have to return to work. I was hoping at first that this would be like an outpatient thing, they'd drain it then send us home. I sat in the waiting room while he had the surgery. I haven't felt so alone in a long time. I am used to constantly having a huge to do list with usually 4-5 things on that list at any given time that are of utmost urgency, or at least appear that way to young children. I am used to always having a sock to pick up or a drink to pour or a bum to wipe or someone who needs a hug or a fight to break up or a spilled box of cereal to sweep up...you get the picture.

Suddenly my girls weren't there. My soul mate wasn't there. And my boy was being cut open. He had been poked and prodded so much by this point and had looked up at me with begging eyes while men and women with coats poked and prodded and hurt him, and we were both starting to grow slightly desensitized to that palaver. They had given him a relaxant before they took him away and it made him "drunk". He gazed up at me and laughed his head off. His laughter was contagious. He had no idea what was about to happen to him and my laughter was accompanied by involuntary tears. But his giggling, happy, woozy face was beautiful. And then I had to walk away. Walk away from my handsome, little, euphoric comedian, walk through the double doors, around the corner down the elevator and into a waiting room and sit. And wait. There was a TV on which irritated me, so I sat at the other side of the room, with a fish tank and I made many cups of coffee (Yes, I hate coffee, but I was tired and I needed something to mess with) and watched the fish and tried to let my mind go numb. I heard other families talk about the horrible things they are going through with their kids' long term conditions and I was so thankful that this is not as serious. And I was in awe at their strength. They all talked so matter of fact while their kids were in surgery for the umpteenth time and here I felt like the lonliness and fear and lack of control in this situation was crushing my lungs.

I paced the floor a couple of times in the few hours I was down there, but mostly, I just sat and watched the fish. I prayed. And I waited. And then the surgeon came to talk to me. He took me into the little room and explained how the procedure went. They think they got all the pus but they are not sure, there are some pockets left. I stared into the surgeon's clear eyes while he explained it to me in a velvety, hypnotic voice and I nodded. It all seemed to make sense. We won't be certain for a while, but it looks as though there is no cartilage damage. That's very good news. There were excessive amounts of white blood cells and the infection looks aggressive. They are suspicious it might be STAPH/MRSA (superbug) but it might possibly be kingella. It will take a few days to get cultures back until we know for certain, so we will treat for both just now. I flinched a little at hearing MRSA. I nodded and took it all in and figured I'd deal with the emotion aspect later on, when I'm alone again. Suddenly I really wanted to be alone. He continued speaking about plans of action and technicalities that I tried to grasp but the words were flying all over the place by now and my internal dialog was getting obnoxiously loud.

And then he said, "so he'll be staying here for 4-5 days minimum, ok?". My cool, calm, monotone "OK" was automatic but came out so fast and forcedly that it was obviously a lie. I was not ok. My head started to spin and the previous night's lack of sleep all hit me at once. The room was very bright and I was suddenly aware of the rhythm of my heart pounding through my chest. I focussed all my energy on getting through the rest of the conversation. Just make it through this discussion without looking like a fool. I couldn't really hear anything else he said. He got up and held to door for me. I thanked him and walked towards to box of tissues on the desk at the other side of the room. As soon as I had taken 3 steps the tears started rolling, silently. I felt eyes burning into me from all over the waiting room. Eyes of parents who are going through far worse than we are, and are holding it together much better than I am. I finally made it to the tissues, forcing my gullet to be silent and putting my energy into keeping my lungs from heaving. The box was empty. "There's another box over there maam", said the Dad who was waiting to hear if his daughter has Cycstic Fibrosis. "Keep it in perspective Niecey", I told myself.

I grabbed a handful of tissues from the other box and bolted to the ladies room where I cried my eyes out. The kind of cry that feels like an abdominal work out. It's not just from the eyes or the lungs. The kind of cry that makes other people in the ladies room wonder what the heck is going on in there. The kind of cry that leaves your eyes looking like someone removed them, dropped them in acid for a few minutes them put them back in place and it takes at least an hour before they go back to their normal color. I cried and I contemplated who we could ask to look after my girls while Rene was at work. I imagined them going to bed without their customary kisses and cuddles and stories from Mum. I asked God to help me get through the next 4-5 days only seeing my beautiful girls for 1-2 hours in the evening. Then I toughened myself up and committed to just coping with this an hour at a time.

And that's where we're at now. The kids are with our awesome, amazing neighbor through the day, then Daddy picks them up, grabs supper and comes out to see us for about 1.5 hours before heading home and crashing out. Everyone is tired. We are still waiting for cultures to see if this is MRSA or not. He is in isolation here, so everyone has to wear masks and vests. They are going to put a PICC IV in him, but haven't been able to get his temp low enough to do it yet. And he might need another MRI and drainage surgery tomorrow.

Ever since we turned the calendar page to February, Zoe has been counting down the days until her birthday. She had the order of events all planned out and told me about it multiple times a day. "I will wake up then open my pwesents. Then we going to a pirate show, then we can come home and have Strawberry Shortcake cake with Strawberry Shortcake and Custard and Friends and a rock." She's been so excited and I've been playing it up big time too. I wanted to make a huge deal out of it to help her know how special she is to me. And now I might not even be there. She turns 3 on Sunday. We are considering postponing her birthday without letting her know. I'm not sure ethically how that would sit....

I miss them so badly, I long to be running around pulling my hair out over Zoe and her mischief. It drives me wild sometimes, but the girls are my life.

Turtle is in very high spirits today. They took him off fluids because he's keeping foods down and he's no longer on all the monitors. If he gets the surgery again tomorrow he'll be hooked up to everything again, but for now he's free and I can hold him and feed him. He has a huge cast thing on his leg so it's awkward, but it's not hurting him too bad. And we're just waiting. Waiting to find out which bacteria it is for sure. Waiting to see if the treatment is working or if the bacteria is spreading. Waiting to see when we get to go home.

Prayers would be much appreciated. They are not too worried about him, he's certainly not in critical care. But it could get serious. It's aggressive and they are treating it aggressively. Specifically I'd love prayers that the antibiotics will work, that he won't have any more fever today so he can get the PICC line in tomorrow (otherwise they have to wait and each day means an extra day we have to stay here), that I will be able to handle the hospital stay, emotionally and that Rene and the girls will be happy and sleep well.

Thanks for reading this. I mostly typed it up for my own benefit. To help me process it. I see so many sick kids around me and I am reminded how blessed we are to have the health we have. I hate missing the girls and I hate seeing my poor boy as helpless as he is here.




But we'll get through. He's a tough kid, and has such a gentle spirit. It will help him heal. And so will the prayers and the love. I am not leaving his side.






Friday, November 27, 2009

Just like his sister

Turtle and Zoe are starting to become quite the monkey duo. Like today, they took out all our killer bunnies cards, including expansion packs and dice and pawns and chucked them all over the floor. Zoe instigates and Turtle follows and chuckles and copies. I have seen him lead her to trouble also. Like a couple days ago he started picking up random objects, chucking them down the stairs and laughing his head off. Zoe was enticed by his amusement at the activity and she jumped right in on the action.

Wherever Zoe is found in our wee house, Turtle will likely be found waddling a few steps behind her, admiring her and imitating her. I'd think it was sweet if she weren't such a terrible influence on the lad.

Today he found her dress on the floor and was thrilled at the opportunity to be more like his idol. He brought the dress to me, and urged me to put it on him with little thrusty bounces and grunts, 1 year old style.

So I put it on, and he was in heaven. Twirling and prancing and letting it flow. He apparently felt so pretty, just like his big sister. He wouldn't let me take it off for hours. I had to take a pic, but since my only two lenses which work indoor have tragically broken (I am deeply grieving), I took pics with my webcam instead. So please excuse the quality.


He does make for one bee-ooooootiful little boy, doesn't he?





Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Well, I knew today was going to be a tough one...

But I didn't anticipate this...

So as you know, the morning started out chaotic as it often does. I eventually got round to making my own breakfast and then I set off cleaning up the house. I was hoping to have a friend over later in the day, so I put the smelly knickers in the laundry instead of on the floor and I mopped up a few days worth of spills off the floor. (Do you have any idea how hard it is to sweep a floor with a 1 year old? He seems to think the pile of junk is an all you can eat buffet, which is also especially fun to roll in and scatter all around).

I was in the middle of cleaning up when I hear Zoe crying. I didn't rush to her, as this is a common noise in my household. It sounded like she and Lana were fighting. I put down my cloth and started to slowly make my way to her. Then I heard Lana apologizing to her emphatically and my alarm bells started ringing. Ok, if she's so sorry then she must have really hurt her. Lana's not always speedy on the whole remorse thing.

Zoe and I met in the hallway and she was holding her face in her hands and covered in blood. Apparently Lana closed a door on her, I can't figure out how. I sat Zoe down and got some tissues to start dabbing at her face. As soon as I cleared off the blood and saw the source, I realized I'd be spending some time in the hospital today. Her lip was bust wide open, gaping and oozing. And as she talked it continued to split further open.

I needed Rene. I am no good at handling these situations because I am way too emotionally attached to be objective. I went to call him. Turtle started screaming his head off because he was ready for a nap and didn't like me setting him down and walking away. I finally found Rene's phone number and went to call him but our stupid phone won't hold a charge. So it didn't work. So I scooped a crying kid up in each arm and knocked on our (awesome) neighbor's house and asked her if I could use her phone. She took Turtle and cuddled him and gave me her phone. I called Rene and he came home. Our (did I mention awesome?) neighbor looked after the two big girls for us and the four of us headed to the emergency treatment place.

As soon as they saw her lip they told us they wouldn't be able to fix it, because she might need to speak with a plastic surgeon to avoid scarring.

So off to ER. Zoe was so brave the whole time. She didn't cry at all in the car, and when we got to ER, she complied completely with the staff there. They gowned her up, weighed her, took her temp and checked her oxygen. She was being so sweet, with her lip gaping at them all and her eyes trusting them. She did whatever they asked and hardly uttered a sound. They put some numbing gel on and she tolerated it very well. She was like a completely different child from the one I live with!

Then came the shot. They gave her a shot to knock her out (more like space her out as her eyes stayed open) and her precious face changed. She felt the injection penetrate her leg and her little mouth dragged downwards at the corners and her mouth opened with shock of betrayal and unexpected pain. Her eyes widened with fear and she cried silently. My heart broke. She looked so scared and I wanted to scoop her up and take her home. She looked at the nurses she had trusted and pleaded with her gaze. They covered her face and began to sew. Just before the needle made its first move into her skin, the drugs kicked in and she became still, and breathed a big sigh and her body went limp.

They sewed her up and I cringed at the sight. 3 stitches was enough to cover it. He said she may very well scar, but it shouldn't be too noticeable as most of it was on her actual lip. Then there will be a small scar just at the top of her lip. It shouldn't be too bad.

We spent the next hour waiting for her to wake up and become responsive. She had her eyes open the whole time but was just not there. It was pretty spooky actually. We talked to her, held her hands and stroked her face. Eventually she started to look more present and she sat up and said, "Hey mum". As if just meeting me after being gone for a while. When the Dr came in he asked her if she was ready to go home. She nodded. He said, "ok then. I'll send the nurse in to get you signed out and get these monitors off you". But Zoe didn't intend to wait. As soon as she heard the word "home" she took off her gown and started ripping the monitors off her tummy, and she even figured out how to yank off the blood pressure monitor. She was ready to go!

The RN gave her some bright colored bandaids to take home, since Zoe had liked hers a lot. They said she wins the award for best patient ever. We had been warned that on waking from the medication she might have anxiety and be grumpy, but she was as angelic as she had been the whole time.

So we got her home and rescued the neighbor from Kaya and Lana duty. She has 3 stitches which will come out in about 6 days. Meanwhile we have to convince her to stop pulling at them and remember to put neosporin on them.

And she's getting a bit of extra pampering from us.





So yeah. I knew it would be a bad day. But that took me by surprise.




Monday, October 19, 2009

Tot Talk Tuesday



This time I wrote stuff down! woohoo.

First was just how Zoe call a light bulb a "white bald". Which it kind of looks like, so it makes sense.

Second, Zoe and Lana were playing a game where Lana was the baby and Zoe was the mommy.

Lana cries, "mommy, I want to go to bed"
Zoe tucks her in bed.
"Mommy, I need a kiss"
Zoe kisses her.
"Mommy, I want a story"
"Okay." She opens her hands out as a pretend book. "Once upon a time there was a wittle bug. Azzowitty a doo doo. Dudajiddy. Vee end."
Lana cries. "waa waaa. No, that was a short story. I want a long story".
"Okay. Once upon a time there was a wittle long. Azzowitty a doo doo. Dudajiddy. Vee end."





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Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Tot Talk Tuesday



Zoe was pretending to speak in a microphone (really, it was a dining chair, upturned, to she was speaking into the leg) and she started with, "untention, untention"
And then proceeded to say a ton of cute stuff in her announcement. I scribbled as much down as I could, but now I can't find the paper I scribbled it on. Oh well.


Lana and Kaya fell asleep on my bed, and Zoe was watching them and said,"shhhh the kids are sleeping". Which seemed really cute to me.

At the movie theater on Saturday, she kept pointing to the screen and asking, "is dat Tinkerbell?" about everything. The boy, the house, the balloon, the dog, the stair lift. She thought everything was Tinkerbell. That was moments before her total freak out session...

Last night at supper (we had tempeh meatballs and marinara over spaghetti), Zoe accidentally dropped a spaghetti noodle into her water. She asked me, "Mummy, can you get it out peese?" I couldn't see it in there, "There's nothing in there, honey". "Yes there is. I dwopped a spaghetti taco in there"
I guess we've been watching too much I carly!


Ah my Zoe. She is so high maintenance and sometimes I really feel like I'm pulling out my hair with her. But she has a good heart. She's incredibly intelligent and is frustrated in a 2 year old's body. I love the ways she changes up our days and adds so much to them. She's not an "easy" child, but I never asked for one.

Here's a pic of her
I love her so much









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Sunday, September 20, 2009

Embarrassing and scary

I'll pretend my husband isn't sitting down in the bathroom right now singing Handel's Messiah to celebrate successful expulsion of waste material. Because that would be embarrassing for him. Plus I'm sure you all wouldn't want to hear about it.

So instead, I'll talk about vomit. 'Cause you'd all much prefer that.

We had a scary incident at church this morning. Rene and I just got the big girls sent on their merry way to their kids church and we met up with each other in the hall. We had a few minutes left before the service would start so Rene went off to the information desk to ask some technical questions.

He had given Zoe a hard candy on the way back from dropping off Lana. We've both given them to Zoe in the past, but won't do it again!

As soon as Rene was out of vision, Zoe started choking. She was crying, and then the hard inhaling with crying was making her breathe the candy in or something. I started trying to pat her back violently, but it wasn't helping. Scary. I heard her start to make pukey sounds so I scooped her up (with Turtle in the sling) and rushed her in to the bathroom. I accidentally banged a little girl on the head with the door on the way in. She started crying. I apologized like crazy, while I sat Zoe on the sink and tried patting her in all sorts of maneuvers in attempt to dislodge this thing. Then she suddenly spewed the thing out with much force and with much extra stuff.

By this point the little girl was no longer crying, but gawking at Zoe and enjoying the free entertainment. The mommy was telling her daughter she shouldn't stand in front of the door and explaining to her, "they were in a hurry. They had to get in here really quick".

Embarrassing. Zoe was ok. She said, "there it is, candy!" and went to grab it to eat it again! But of course I grabbed it and threw it in the trash! I put Turtle on the floor and started cleaning Zoe and the sink and the mirror and the wall off. Then I got round to cleaning my arm and my hair, after apologizing again to the lady while she washed her child's hands in the freshly wiped but still mightily whiffy sink.

I got out, told a staff member that they might want to give the toilet a wipe down and take out the trash, and then I told Rene all about it. Then I went to the service, sat down next to a stranger and stunk the place out with vomit smell. I couldn't get rid of the stench. I went to the cry room after Turtle attempted a suicidal dive down the auditorium stairs, and I fragranced the stuffy little room with the sweet aroma of my daughter's innards. Until eventually I felt too awkward and I just left. Good thing I can catch the sermons online later.



While I'm on the embarrassing theme, here's an embarrassing photo of my husband. Because he's been a little annoying this weekend and revenge is sweet.







Monday, August 31, 2009

Brag post

I'm a mum. I like to brag about my kids 'cause I think they're the bestest. I'm allowed to do this. This is my blog after all.

{insert toothy grin here}


Here's Turtle toddling around. I *love* the early walks. It's so freaking cute.

Oh, and please ignore the background noise in both of these videos. This is my house, full of monkeys. There is always background noise (like right now, Zoe and Lana are locked in mortal combat over a helium balloon disagreement and it is generating a significant level of background noise).




And here's Zoe the artist. She *loves* to draw. You'll remember, she got started at and early age. She can entertain herself for hours drawing. Unfortunately it won't just be on paper. It will be on her, on her siblings, on the furniture and the walls. She's even drawn with chalk on the neighbor's lawnmower (oops, sorry guys).

Until recently, it's just been scribbles or circles. But now she draws faces, bodies, bugs, butterflies and even an occasional letter of the alphabet. (brag brag brag, but isn't she clever?)

She is a little ambidextrous but she does favor her left hand. Here she starts off drawing with her right hand just because I confused her when I handed her the green crayon and asked her to draw a green monster, but she didn't want to give up the orange one. She quickly switches to her other hand and takes over with it.








Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Tot Talk Tuesday - a little late in the day...



I've been busy today with La Leche League in the morning and then playing with 8 kids in our wading pool and slip 'n' slide in the afternoon. I didn't get the chance to get my Tot Talk Tuesday post up. I figured I'll do it now anyway - better late than never, right?

Lana gave me some TTT material on Sunday, when we were flying in first class. She was a couple rows in front, sitting beside Kaya. I was praying they'd be on their best behavior and they did pretty well. At one point though, Lana turned around and in a panic tone started calling, "MUMMY! DADDY!". Everyone looked. She continued, "I'M ALMOST PEEPEEING MY PANTS!!!"

Thankfully the steward was swift to attend them, remove her tray of food and help her to the bathroom before any accident. but it was a little embarrassing.

Zoe came to me with her dad's glove worn clumsily on her hand and says,
"Mummy, do you want to pway soccer?"

I'm guessing she thought it looked like a baseball glove, but thought that baseball was called soccer. It was very cute.


Anyway I know it's late in the day, but if any of ya are online while it's still Tuesday (or heck, I keep it open all week, so join in any day if you want! Call it Tot Talk Wednesday for all I care. :))it would be nice to hear what your tots have been saying this week.





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Read what a Tot Talk Tuesday is and how you can join in here, remember to include the following code in your blog








Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Tot Talk Tuesday




This week I'll do some Zo-cabulary.

mac n cheese = macor cheeny

raisins = seasons (it's so sweet when she asks, "can I please have some seasons?")

back yard gets mixed with back garden (the way they say it in Scotland) = back yardin


She keeps saying something I can't figure out. She comes in asking, "I want coin"
I've asked if she means corn, but no hit. I ask if she means coin and she enthusiastically agrees. But what on earth does she want a coin for? I can't figure it out. I'll keep you posted if I ever do find out what she means.





And because of the wisdom of Jasmin Star (and btw her blog ROCKS) that every post is better with a pic, here are a few of Lana.







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Read what a Tot Talk Tuesday is and how you can join in here, remember to include the following code in your blog








Monday, August 3, 2009

Oh sugar!

I was planning to make a pumpkin pie today. But while I was feeding the baby bunnies, who are still doing great by the way, Zoe decided the sugar needed to be released from captivity and she was just the missionary to help bring about such freedom.



I figured I could get really mad, or I could write in it and take a picture then blog about it. So I did the latter. I'm still bummed about not being able to make pumpkin pie though....



While you're here, looky what I picked up for $1.50 at a yard sale on Saturday!



I've been so desperate for a large dry erase board. The kids are loving solving math puzzles on it and are keen to start homeschooling soon so we can use the board.

Oh, and for those who are asking how the dreads are coming along, I just snapped up a couple pics in the mirror.



Some of them are looking and feeling awesome. Others are straggly. They are tangling together a lot and requiring a lot of maintenance. But I'm still happy with them and enjoying the journey.



In other news...in a couple days we're off to Florida! Yay. We're going to my cousin's wedding, which I can't wait to snap up pics at. She's gorgeous and I'm sure it will be a beautiful day. We're also doing Disney for a birthday present for Kaya. I'd better get packing!




Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Tot Talk Tuesday



Zoe has a best friend. He's the next door neighbor's kid, Gage, a few months younger than she is, and yes, he is a boy. So of course everyone thinks they'll be married one day, and if they do, she'd be doing well for herself. Because he's a very sweet and loving boy. He puts up with Zoe's unwillingness to share, he tolerates her fickle nature and bossiness and follows her from the car to the swing to the sandbox as she constantly changes her fancy. It's adorable to watch their faces light up when they see each other and they run to each other and immediately take back up from wherever they left things off last time.

This week I was out swinging Zoe and she could hear Gage crying inside his house. She looked concerned and told me,

"oh no, Gage cwying. Gage sad; He wants me. Gage wants me."

I asked her,
"Is Gage crying because he wants you?"

"Yes. And a baby chicken. Gage cwying - he wants me and a baby chicken".

Then later on that day he came out to play. While he was playing on the swing he started patting his lap and saying, "Zoe, come a sap. Come a sap, Zoe."

She frowned at him and put on a disgusted face and said, "No. I don't want a wap"

Which of course, he gracefully accepted and they went on to play something else. They are so cute together.


I've also gotta tell you about Lana singing a song she learned at Sunday school. On the way home from church, she was sitting in the back seat peltering out,

"God sent his son to Earth and Jesus was his name-o
Hmm hmmm esss yooo esss
hmmm hmmmm esss yooo esss
hmmm hmmm ess yooo esss
and Bingo was his name-o"

Then she looked a little confused. There were a couple seconds silence while she figured out the error, then corrected herself,
"And Jesus was his name-o"

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Read what a Tot Talk Tuesday is and how you can join in here, remember to include the following code in your blog












Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Tot Talk Tuesday



I hope you all have had a good week. I've had a busy one and will post about it as soon as I've done editing pics!


Read what a Tot Talk Tuesday is and how you can join in here, remember to include the following code in your blog



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This morning I noticed Zoe point to her elbow and call it an armbow. Which makes sense really.

Since this week's TTT is all about Zoe, I'll stick in a pic of her here



I've taught Zoe that Jesus can live in our hearts. Sometimes I'll ask her where Jesus is and she'll point to her heart and say, "right there, in my tummy".

A few days ago I asked her where Jesus is, but she was wearing a t-shirt with a big plastic flower covering her heart area and I guess she figured there wasn't enough room in there for Jesus too. She started patting around the flower area and worriedly saying, "Oh no. I don't know. I can't find her. Jesus is not there." Then she put her hands in a holler position over her mouth and yelled, "JESUS! Where is she? JESUS!!!!!! I can't find her"



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Thanks for joining in, and please try to leave a comment on some other TTT participants' blogs. Especially if they comment on yours. Thanks!



Tot Talk Tuesdays Participants
1. Kathie S.
2. Shaye @ Miller Memories
3. septembermom
4. Herb of Grace
5. MrsW

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