We're all up early before I need to leave for school. The whole family, all in good spirits, is hanging out in the living room.
I'm goofing around with my iPod Touch, messing with Facebook or some other such time-killer, when The Princess climbs into my lap and lays her sparkling baby blues on me.
Something makes me decide to turn on one of her favorite albums on the iPod, and she starts dancing.
Swaying back and forth, grinning from ear to ear, she sits in my lap and "dances" with me through four whole songs.
I sing.
We sway.
She giggles.
I giggle.
The eye contact, the participation, the attention span: I am in awe of this little girl every day of my life.
Leaps and bounds, folks. Leaps. And. Bounds.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Leaps
I'm lying on the couch watching TV, relaxing after school and the ordeal that is grocery shopping these days.
The Princess walks up with an ear-to-ear grin, lifts my tee shirt so she can see my belly, and lowers her face to my skin, stopping just short of blowing a fart noise on me.
Just like I do to her.
She looks up with sparkling eyes and an even bigger grin, as I laugh hysterically. This causes her to do it all over again and again.
Lift shirt, touch lips to belly, pause for reaction, lower shirt.
Lift shirt, touch lips to belly, pause for reaction, lower shirt.
On her own.
No prompting.
Playing a silly game.
Because she wants to.
The Princess walks up with an ear-to-ear grin, lifts my tee shirt so she can see my belly, and lowers her face to my skin, stopping just short of blowing a fart noise on me.
Just like I do to her.
She looks up with sparkling eyes and an even bigger grin, as I laugh hysterically. This causes her to do it all over again and again.
Lift shirt, touch lips to belly, pause for reaction, lower shirt.
Lift shirt, touch lips to belly, pause for reaction, lower shirt.
On her own.
No prompting.
Playing a silly game.
Because she wants to.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Oldest
Today, my oldest baby turns six. I simply can't believe it's been that long. That means I bought my house six years ago May, that I got married six years ago October, and that my life is going by much more quickly than I ever thought it could. I am now beginning to understand those well-meaning folks who have always told me to make sure I savor every moment...because the time seems to speed up as you get older.
But enough of that.
DeeYoJi, Dee, Bubbles, Bun, Run-bun, Madame Blobula (and all of your other nicknames that no one will understand here):
Your mommy loves you very much. Consider this an electronic belly rub, and I'll make sure you get the real thing when I get home.
Happy, happy birthday to my oldest girl (aka my Beautiful, Bodacious Birthday Bun).
But enough of that.
DeeYoJi, Dee, Bubbles, Bun, Run-bun, Madame Blobula (and all of your other nicknames that no one will understand here):
Your mommy loves you very much. Consider this an electronic belly rub, and I'll make sure you get the real thing when I get home.
Happy, happy birthday to my oldest girl (aka my Beautiful, Bodacious Birthday Bun).
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
It's Hard To Be Four
She's finally asleep, and I'm making my way to my own bed. It's been a long night, filled with overload on so many levels.
Before bed time, things were good. I don't know what went wrong.
The first time she woke up crying was at about 11:00, roughly fifteen minutes after my head hit the pillow. I seem to remember drifting off some time after that and waking in a panic to her pained screams from the next room.
She thrashed and kicked, screamed and cried, until...finally...she drifted off into sleep. There were many false starts here: she'd get quiet and calm, only to bust out crying again just as I thought she was asleep.
I hate not knowing what's wrong. Hate. It. With a mad, fiery passion.
Well, crap. My alarm is set to go off in a minute or two. Here's hopin' The Princess's day is better than her night was, and that I can make it through work and school today without a hitch.
Before bed time, things were good. I don't know what went wrong.
The first time she woke up crying was at about 11:00, roughly fifteen minutes after my head hit the pillow. I seem to remember drifting off some time after that and waking in a panic to her pained screams from the next room.
She thrashed and kicked, screamed and cried, until...finally...she drifted off into sleep. There were many false starts here: she'd get quiet and calm, only to bust out crying again just as I thought she was asleep.
I hate not knowing what's wrong. Hate. It. With a mad, fiery passion.
Well, crap. My alarm is set to go off in a minute or two. Here's hopin' The Princess's day is better than her night was, and that I can make it through work and school today without a hitch.
Monday, April 11, 2011
And the Angels Sing
They all told me it went fast, that the pregnancy was the longest part. I politely smiled and nodded, all the while thinking they were nuts. A year is a year is a year, right? Anyone who feels that they are zooming by at a breakneck pace simply isn't taking the time to stop and smell the roses.
That was then.
Now, as I watch The Princess getting bigger every single day, I wonder where the last four years went. I certainly haven't been neglecting my responsibility to stop and smell the roses. Hell, I was out of work for nine months, every moment of which was spent with my family, every moment of which was savored to the fullest.
I am well aware of the fact that The Hubbs and I have been blessed with a charmed life. Since we met, everything has simply fallen into place. All we've had to do is put one foot in front of the other, and life seems to take care of itself. We met and dated for a whopping six months before he proposed to me on a beach in Michigan. Seven months later, we bought our house. A month after that, we were ecstatic to welcome our first fur kid into the family. Another four months, and we were married.
We toodled around the house, making it our own. Seven months after we were married, we welcomed our second fur kid into the family. Less than three months later, I took the test that would change our lives forever.
A whirlwind: that's what those nine months of pregnancy really were. Everyone says it's the longest part, that time when you're waiting to meet the little person who's been kicking you in the tummy. For me, it went so fast. I never felt better in my entire life than when I was pregnant...no morning sickness, very little fatigue, and that didn't come until the last few days if I'm being completely honest. I didn't swell up, didn't even get too many off-the-wall food cravings. Taco Bell, sure, but that's just a day in the life for me.
Then came the last doctor's appointment, that Tuesday evening when I was to report to the office for my final checkup...if I was still pregnant by then, anyway. And, boy, was I pregnant. Forty weeks, and this little person seemed to be hunkering down for a good, long stay. She had no intention whatsoever of leaving her cozy little abode in my enormous swollen tummy.
We packed our bags and dropped The Girls off with The Grumps, knowing that I would be checking into the hospital that very evening. I saw my midwife for the final checkup, and she called ahead to the hospital to let them know I was coming, and that they'd be inducing labor bright and early in the morning. She held our hands and smiled all the way up to her twinkling eyes as she told us we'd meet our little boy or girl in mere hours. At that point, we didn't know if we were to be welcoming a prince or a princess...only that we were eager to meet this little nudger after so many months spent speculating.
Leaving the doctor's office, we decided to have one last high-class meal before becoming parents, so we stopped at the McDonald's across the street from the hospital. We feasted on burgers, fries, and soda. For dessert, we stopped at the gas station for candy bars, and in a moment of pure genius decided to stock up on Gatorade.
Checking in at the hospital, we unpacked our necessities and took care of the most important preparation of all: the music. The entire time we were there, we were joined by Billie Holiday, Duke Ellington, Benny Goodman, and Ella Fitzgerald. The entire staff of the maternity ward marvelled at how calm and serene our room seemed, and many of them drifted in and out over the next day or so to see what was playing.
After I was set up with all of my monitors, one kindly nurse convinced The Hubbs that he'd get a better night's rest at home in his own bed. After all, she said, I'd need him to be strong and alert the next day. So he headed home.
I fell asleep almost instantly.
At seven o'clock on the nose, on the morning of Wednesday, April 11, 2007, I was awakened by my midwife and the doctor with whom she practices. It was time to induce.
Where, though, was my knight in shining armor?
"Look outside," they told me. "He should be here soon, but you don't want him hurrying through this."
And that's when I saw it: a white-out snow storm in the middle of April. Gotta love the midwest! I spoke to The Hubbs on his way to the hospital, and he assured me he'd be there soon enough.
Over the next nine hours and forty-some minutes, we were again joined by our jazz greats. I was told that I was doing great, oh, I don't know...maybe seven hundred times? All I could think was how badly I wanted to meet this little person, and, even when I nearly broke The Hubbs' hand during a contraction, I was giddy with excitement.
At just before 4:45 pm on this day, to the tune of "And the Angels Sing" by Benny Goodman and his band, the axis of my world shifted. She was here. She was mine. She was, is, everything - and more than - I ever could have wished for.
My Princess.
Baby girl, your momma loves you more than you could ever possibly know. The day you were born, you flipped a switch in me. Nothing else, as long as I live, will ever matter to me as much as you do. You are my sun, my moon, my everything.
I am so proud of you, it's beyond my ability to put it into words. I see the beautiful little girl you're becoming, and your sweet and sometimes teasing nature is truly something to behold. Your laugh, your smile, every little thing about you just makes me burst with pride.
When I was a kid, everyone always asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. At five years old, I told them that when I was 25, I would be married, have a house and a dog, and I'd be a mommy. Interestingly enough, I was mostly right. At 25, I was married with a house and two dogs, and you were growing in my tummy. Less than three weeks after I turned 26, you made all my dreams come true.
Dreams so big, so wonderful, that I never in a million years would have dared to dream them.
Every day since then, dear Princess, has been even better than the one before. I never knew how much one could learn from a person who is so small. Never again will I make the mistake of underestimating the power of anyone on this earth...especially you.
For if you've been able to teach me so much already, how in the world could you possibly be done?
Up until the day I met you face to face, I had absolutely no worldly idea how much love there was in my heart. Now, every time I look into your sparkling eyes, that love continues to grow.
Today, my sweet little Princess, you turn four years old. These have been, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the best four years of my life thus far.
I love you. Happy, happy birthday, Princess. Thank you for being you.
That was then.
Now, as I watch The Princess getting bigger every single day, I wonder where the last four years went. I certainly haven't been neglecting my responsibility to stop and smell the roses. Hell, I was out of work for nine months, every moment of which was spent with my family, every moment of which was savored to the fullest.
I am well aware of the fact that The Hubbs and I have been blessed with a charmed life. Since we met, everything has simply fallen into place. All we've had to do is put one foot in front of the other, and life seems to take care of itself. We met and dated for a whopping six months before he proposed to me on a beach in Michigan. Seven months later, we bought our house. A month after that, we were ecstatic to welcome our first fur kid into the family. Another four months, and we were married.
We toodled around the house, making it our own. Seven months after we were married, we welcomed our second fur kid into the family. Less than three months later, I took the test that would change our lives forever.
A whirlwind: that's what those nine months of pregnancy really were. Everyone says it's the longest part, that time when you're waiting to meet the little person who's been kicking you in the tummy. For me, it went so fast. I never felt better in my entire life than when I was pregnant...no morning sickness, very little fatigue, and that didn't come until the last few days if I'm being completely honest. I didn't swell up, didn't even get too many off-the-wall food cravings. Taco Bell, sure, but that's just a day in the life for me.
Then came the last doctor's appointment, that Tuesday evening when I was to report to the office for my final checkup...if I was still pregnant by then, anyway. And, boy, was I pregnant. Forty weeks, and this little person seemed to be hunkering down for a good, long stay. She had no intention whatsoever of leaving her cozy little abode in my enormous swollen tummy.
We packed our bags and dropped The Girls off with The Grumps, knowing that I would be checking into the hospital that very evening. I saw my midwife for the final checkup, and she called ahead to the hospital to let them know I was coming, and that they'd be inducing labor bright and early in the morning. She held our hands and smiled all the way up to her twinkling eyes as she told us we'd meet our little boy or girl in mere hours. At that point, we didn't know if we were to be welcoming a prince or a princess...only that we were eager to meet this little nudger after so many months spent speculating.
Leaving the doctor's office, we decided to have one last high-class meal before becoming parents, so we stopped at the McDonald's across the street from the hospital. We feasted on burgers, fries, and soda. For dessert, we stopped at the gas station for candy bars, and in a moment of pure genius decided to stock up on Gatorade.
Checking in at the hospital, we unpacked our necessities and took care of the most important preparation of all: the music. The entire time we were there, we were joined by Billie Holiday, Duke Ellington, Benny Goodman, and Ella Fitzgerald. The entire staff of the maternity ward marvelled at how calm and serene our room seemed, and many of them drifted in and out over the next day or so to see what was playing.
After I was set up with all of my monitors, one kindly nurse convinced The Hubbs that he'd get a better night's rest at home in his own bed. After all, she said, I'd need him to be strong and alert the next day. So he headed home.
I fell asleep almost instantly.
At seven o'clock on the nose, on the morning of Wednesday, April 11, 2007, I was awakened by my midwife and the doctor with whom she practices. It was time to induce.
Where, though, was my knight in shining armor?
"Look outside," they told me. "He should be here soon, but you don't want him hurrying through this."
And that's when I saw it: a white-out snow storm in the middle of April. Gotta love the midwest! I spoke to The Hubbs on his way to the hospital, and he assured me he'd be there soon enough.
Over the next nine hours and forty-some minutes, we were again joined by our jazz greats. I was told that I was doing great, oh, I don't know...maybe seven hundred times? All I could think was how badly I wanted to meet this little person, and, even when I nearly broke The Hubbs' hand during a contraction, I was giddy with excitement.
At just before 4:45 pm on this day, to the tune of "And the Angels Sing" by Benny Goodman and his band, the axis of my world shifted. She was here. She was mine. She was, is, everything - and more than - I ever could have wished for.
My Princess.
Baby girl, your momma loves you more than you could ever possibly know. The day you were born, you flipped a switch in me. Nothing else, as long as I live, will ever matter to me as much as you do. You are my sun, my moon, my everything.
I am so proud of you, it's beyond my ability to put it into words. I see the beautiful little girl you're becoming, and your sweet and sometimes teasing nature is truly something to behold. Your laugh, your smile, every little thing about you just makes me burst with pride.
When I was a kid, everyone always asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. At five years old, I told them that when I was 25, I would be married, have a house and a dog, and I'd be a mommy. Interestingly enough, I was mostly right. At 25, I was married with a house and two dogs, and you were growing in my tummy. Less than three weeks after I turned 26, you made all my dreams come true.
Dreams so big, so wonderful, that I never in a million years would have dared to dream them.
Every day since then, dear Princess, has been even better than the one before. I never knew how much one could learn from a person who is so small. Never again will I make the mistake of underestimating the power of anyone on this earth...especially you.
For if you've been able to teach me so much already, how in the world could you possibly be done?
Up until the day I met you face to face, I had absolutely no worldly idea how much love there was in my heart. Now, every time I look into your sparkling eyes, that love continues to grow.
Today, my sweet little Princess, you turn four years old. These have been, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the best four years of my life thus far.
I love you. Happy, happy birthday, Princess. Thank you for being you.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Precursor
Tomorrow, The Princess will turn four.
Over the last few months, The Hubbs and I have found great joy in letting her choose her own gifts from us by setting her loose in her favorite toy store and buying the one item - whatever it may be - that she can't live without on that particular day.
Yesterday, The Grumps and I took The Princess to this toy store, where she chose a Melissa & Doug jewelry beading set as her present from them.
Since we had just been there terrorizing the lovely staff of her favorite store yesterday, The Hubbs and I decided that today might be a day for a different shopping destination. We headed to our nearest Toys "R" Us, where The Princess proceeded to fall head-over-heels in love with this adorable little pink 12" girls' bike.
A bike, huh? I can deal with that.
So we decided to do a little bit of shopping around, and this is what we came up with:
After riding it all through the store, The Princess sat patiently in line (key word: PATIENTLY) and allowed the nice cashier to zap it. She then rode all the way out to the car with The Hubbs and me, and allowed us to put it in the trunk without a fight.
And then we got home. As soon as she got out of her car seat, well, I'll let her show ya:
That little Elvis-style curled lip just kills me. It's like she's saying, "Thank you, thankyouverymuch."
She hasn't quite figured out the whole pedaling thing yet, but my guess is that it won't be long. :)
Over the last few months, The Hubbs and I have found great joy in letting her choose her own gifts from us by setting her loose in her favorite toy store and buying the one item - whatever it may be - that she can't live without on that particular day.
Yesterday, The Grumps and I took The Princess to this toy store, where she chose a Melissa & Doug jewelry beading set as her present from them.
Since we had just been there terrorizing the lovely staff of her favorite store yesterday, The Hubbs and I decided that today might be a day for a different shopping destination. We headed to our nearest Toys "R" Us, where The Princess proceeded to fall head-over-heels in love with this adorable little pink 12" girls' bike.
A bike, huh? I can deal with that.
So we decided to do a little bit of shopping around, and this is what we came up with:
After riding it all through the store, The Princess sat patiently in line (key word: PATIENTLY) and allowed the nice cashier to zap it. She then rode all the way out to the car with The Hubbs and me, and allowed us to put it in the trunk without a fight.
And then we got home. As soon as she got out of her car seat, well, I'll let her show ya:
That little Elvis-style curled lip just kills me. It's like she's saying, "Thank you, thankyouverymuch."
She hasn't quite figured out the whole pedaling thing yet, but my guess is that it won't be long. :)
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Middle Child
Today, my middle baby turns five. I can hardly believe it was nearly five years ago when we came across her sweet face in our favorite pet store and went through that whirlwind 4-hour romance before finally bringing her home to become a member of The Hubbo Family.
I can't imagine life without her.
Happy birthday, Sookie. Momma and D'dee lub yours toe berry much.
I can't imagine life without her.
Happy birthday, Sookie. Momma and D'dee lub yours toe berry much.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Too Much...Too Many
Too much...
to do
time between blog posts
running through my head when I'm trying to sleep
love for that little girl
energy in that little girl (hell, half that energy would kill me)
beauty and innocence in that little girl
that I want to get involved in
that I can't get involved in right now
that I will get involved in someday
yarn (never thought I'd say that!)
clutter (like mother, like daughter)
hassle to grow my hair out, but - damn it - I'm gonna try
Too many...
ambitions
credit hours
responsibilities
reasons to love The Princess
reasons to stay in bed late on Sunday
reasons to say, "Screw the house work," and crochet instead
days in a row that I say I'm gonna post a blog
days in a row that I don't find the time to post a blog
blog posts that ramble on like this for no apparent reason
people in the world who need our help
ways to help those people
of us don't do it because we simply have too much on our plates
***
Full-time employee. Full-time student. Full-time momma. Full-time wife. That's me. Hell, that's a lot of full-time stuff.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Smush
Frantically, her eyes dart around the room.
The tears are welling up, and she's beginning to panic.
Every muscle in her little body is wound as tightly as it can go.
Her eyes lock on mine, and she rockets across the room into my lap.
She grabs the back of my neck as hard as she can with her little fingers and wrenches my head toward hers.
She pushes her chin into mine so hard that I have to fight tears from welling up in my eyes, too.
And then, out of nowhere, her little arms start to relax. I can feel my face again, and I can see that her eyes no longer hold the expression of a caged animal being led to slaughter.
I don't think I'll ever be able to fully understand her sensory issues, how they work or how things seem to her. Nothing in the living room seems overwhelming to me in the slightest, and I wrack my brain trying to figure out what caused this meltdown.
I try to tell her again and again that it's not okay to smush other people's faces, that it hurts. But deep down inside, I'm torn. In the grand scheme of things, what's a little pain when it helps her to get over something that is bothering her? Isn't this just her way of telling me not to do something? That it hurts?
The tears are welling up, and she's beginning to panic.
Every muscle in her little body is wound as tightly as it can go.
Her eyes lock on mine, and she rockets across the room into my lap.
She grabs the back of my neck as hard as she can with her little fingers and wrenches my head toward hers.
She pushes her chin into mine so hard that I have to fight tears from welling up in my eyes, too.
And then, out of nowhere, her little arms start to relax. I can feel my face again, and I can see that her eyes no longer hold the expression of a caged animal being led to slaughter.
I don't think I'll ever be able to fully understand her sensory issues, how they work or how things seem to her. Nothing in the living room seems overwhelming to me in the slightest, and I wrack my brain trying to figure out what caused this meltdown.
I try to tell her again and again that it's not okay to smush other people's faces, that it hurts. But deep down inside, I'm torn. In the grand scheme of things, what's a little pain when it helps her to get over something that is bothering her? Isn't this just her way of telling me not to do something? That it hurts?
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Falling Into Place
There are times when - like everyone else, I'm sure - I feel as though I'm floundering through each day, simply hoping I don't screw anything up beyond repair.
Then there are times when everything falls into place. Over the last seven years since I first met The Hubbs, we've come to the realization that we are both very Taoist in our philosophies. We don't fight the current; we simply pay attention to what the universe is trying to tell us, and we do our best to follow our guts.
When things have been right in the past, they've simply fallen into place. Our wedding, for example, was probably the most stress-free wedding in the history of the world. There were small disagreements and perhaps an apoplexy or two, but nothing compared to the horror stories all of my married friends have. Buying the house, getting the dogs, having The Princess, and the way we've dealt with everything that has come since...well, let's just say we try to follow the path.
Sometimes we get lost...absolutely. But rather than stress ourselves out any more than necessary, we tend to sit back for a minute and analyze. There is almost always a clear path to follow to get us out of whatever briar patch we may have stumbled into, and it's usually plain as day if we just allow ourselves to be calm enough to see it.
Why am I rambling on like this, you may ask? A couple of days ago, I began toying with the idea of starting a One Mom's Journey team for the Chicago Walk Now for Autism Speaks event in May. I floundered a bit, and I wondered if this would be the right choice. I asked the advice of those close to me and decided it would all work itself out one way or another.
And then I sent out a message saying that the team is up and running, inviting people to join and/or donate. The amount of interest so far has been overwhelming, and it's shaping up to be quite the event indeed. While the team is still small on paper, I've got quite a few more people who have already committed, and they'll be showing up on my team web page soon. I've already received two donations, and the walk is over two months away.
Something tells me I'm doing the right thing here. It's going too smoothly to be wrong. Seriously, two or three days in, and everything's already falling into place.
If you'd like to join the One Mom's Journey team, visit our team page. To make a donation, please visit my personal page.
Then there are times when everything falls into place. Over the last seven years since I first met The Hubbs, we've come to the realization that we are both very Taoist in our philosophies. We don't fight the current; we simply pay attention to what the universe is trying to tell us, and we do our best to follow our guts.
When things have been right in the past, they've simply fallen into place. Our wedding, for example, was probably the most stress-free wedding in the history of the world. There were small disagreements and perhaps an apoplexy or two, but nothing compared to the horror stories all of my married friends have. Buying the house, getting the dogs, having The Princess, and the way we've dealt with everything that has come since...well, let's just say we try to follow the path.
Sometimes we get lost...absolutely. But rather than stress ourselves out any more than necessary, we tend to sit back for a minute and analyze. There is almost always a clear path to follow to get us out of whatever briar patch we may have stumbled into, and it's usually plain as day if we just allow ourselves to be calm enough to see it.
Why am I rambling on like this, you may ask? A couple of days ago, I began toying with the idea of starting a One Mom's Journey team for the Chicago Walk Now for Autism Speaks event in May. I floundered a bit, and I wondered if this would be the right choice. I asked the advice of those close to me and decided it would all work itself out one way or another.
And then I sent out a message saying that the team is up and running, inviting people to join and/or donate. The amount of interest so far has been overwhelming, and it's shaping up to be quite the event indeed. While the team is still small on paper, I've got quite a few more people who have already committed, and they'll be showing up on my team web page soon. I've already received two donations, and the walk is over two months away.
Something tells me I'm doing the right thing here. It's going too smoothly to be wrong. Seriously, two or three days in, and everything's already falling into place.
If you'd like to join the One Mom's Journey team, visit our team page. To make a donation, please visit my personal page.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
One Mom's Journey is Joining the Walk
On Saturday, May 21, I'll be joining the crowds down in the Big Bad City for this year's "Walk Now for Autism Speaks" event. The three-mile journey starts at Soldier Field, and there is no registration fee.
Want to join me? Visit the One Mom's Journey team webpage at http://www.walknowforautismspeaks.org/chicago/onemomsjourney to join my team.
Can't join the team? If you'd like to make a donation, you may do so by visiting my personal page at http://www.walknowforautismspeaks.org/chicago/onemom. All donations are greatly appreciated, no matter how great or small.
Want to join me? Visit the One Mom's Journey team webpage at http://www.walknowforautismspeaks.org/chicago/onemomsjourney to join my team.
Can't join the team? If you'd like to make a donation, you may do so by visiting my personal page at http://www.walknowforautismspeaks.org/chicago/onemom. All donations are greatly appreciated, no matter how great or small.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
On the Mend
For those of you who don't already know this, it turned out that The Princess had bronchitis. One doctor visit and three doses of antibiotics, and she was on her way to getting better.
All in all, she missed five days of school (there was no school on Monday or Tuesday because of Presidents' Day and parent-teacher conferences). I've felt so bad for her this whole time she's been sick, because she just hasn't been herself. Sleeping late into the mornings, getting up for short amounts of time to eat and terrorize The Hubbs, and going directly back to bed has pretty much been her schedule for the last week and a half. Gradually, the coughing has begun to subside, and we've seen glimmers of the little gal we all know and love...but they've been few and far between.
Today, she's nearly 100% back to her normal self, which is to say she is a whirling dervish with endless demands. When I came in from school at lunch time, she was tearing around the living room in nothing but a Pull-Up, looking like the cat who just swallowed the canary. The moment I opened the gate into the kitchen, she barged through and plopped herself on her chair by the door, already shoving her feet into her boots. This girl was ready to go. The only problem? As she stood there in her little pink Pull-Up and purple boots, I had to find a way to explain to her that she should probably wear some clothing, seeing as how it's winter and all. The big disappointment? The fact that it never even crossed my mind to snap a picture of her wearing her self-engineered outfit.
I'm glad to say that The Hubbs and I are also starting to feel better. Naturally, we both caught what she had, but it fortunately hasn't turned into bronchitis for either of us. The beginning of this work week was dismal, with all three of us shuffling through our days without fully being able to comprehend much of anything that was going on around us. Let me tell you: fifteen-hour days (between work and school) are no fun when you're battling a nasty cold/virus/whatever the heck this thing is. And we all know how tough it is to take care of a sick kid even when you're well, but add the haze of this bug on top of that, and The Hubbs was put in a pretty tough spot for a while there.
Yesterday, I believe, was the first time The Hubbs and I noticed that all three of us seemed constantly famished. We were all eating everything in sight and always looking for more. While this isn't always a good thing when it comes to budgeting for groceries, I take it to be a good sign: we're all on the mend.
All in all, she missed five days of school (there was no school on Monday or Tuesday because of Presidents' Day and parent-teacher conferences). I've felt so bad for her this whole time she's been sick, because she just hasn't been herself. Sleeping late into the mornings, getting up for short amounts of time to eat and terrorize The Hubbs, and going directly back to bed has pretty much been her schedule for the last week and a half. Gradually, the coughing has begun to subside, and we've seen glimmers of the little gal we all know and love...but they've been few and far between.
Today, she's nearly 100% back to her normal self, which is to say she is a whirling dervish with endless demands. When I came in from school at lunch time, she was tearing around the living room in nothing but a Pull-Up, looking like the cat who just swallowed the canary. The moment I opened the gate into the kitchen, she barged through and plopped herself on her chair by the door, already shoving her feet into her boots. This girl was ready to go. The only problem? As she stood there in her little pink Pull-Up and purple boots, I had to find a way to explain to her that she should probably wear some clothing, seeing as how it's winter and all. The big disappointment? The fact that it never even crossed my mind to snap a picture of her wearing her self-engineered outfit.
I'm glad to say that The Hubbs and I are also starting to feel better. Naturally, we both caught what she had, but it fortunately hasn't turned into bronchitis for either of us. The beginning of this work week was dismal, with all three of us shuffling through our days without fully being able to comprehend much of anything that was going on around us. Let me tell you: fifteen-hour days (between work and school) are no fun when you're battling a nasty cold/virus/whatever the heck this thing is. And we all know how tough it is to take care of a sick kid even when you're well, but add the haze of this bug on top of that, and The Hubbs was put in a pretty tough spot for a while there.
Yesterday, I believe, was the first time The Hubbs and I noticed that all three of us seemed constantly famished. We were all eating everything in sight and always looking for more. While this isn't always a good thing when it comes to budgeting for groceries, I take it to be a good sign: we're all on the mend.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Patheticute
The Princess, being the extremely accommodating little gal that she is, decided at the ripe old age of eighteen months that naps were for sissies. That's right: no naps for almost two and a half years now. There's been the occasional Chris Farley dead-fall from complete exhaustion, but the only consistent thing about her naps is their absence.
Given this fact, The Hubbs and I became concerned when The Princess came home from school on Wednesday, had her snack, and headed straight to bed. For five hours. Dead to the world, like those naps of old.
She stumbled out of her room around the time I got home from work, dragging Dirt Pink behind her and frowning that pathetic little frown...the one that is so pathetic, it's almost cute. She stood in the middle of the living room, looking at nothing in particular, and began to whine.
When I got down on my knees and held out my arms, she catapulted herself into my lap, where she stayed for an uncharacteristically long time. I kissed her forehead as she leaned on me, and, sure enough, she was running a fever.
This poor kid has been in bed nearly perpetually for the last forty-eight-plus hours. When she's not in bed, she's extremely volatile; the slightest thing can send her into hysterics. She's a snot faucet with a nasty cough, and the crazy bed-head only serves to make her more pathetic.
She seems to be doing slightly better this evening, given the fact that she is up and moving around, and has been for more than five minutes at a time. She's eating like a pig, but coughing like an eighty-year-old man with emphysema.
I've set up a doctor's appointment for Monday morning in case she hasn't kicked this thing by then, but in the mean time, here we are. We've got the most pathetic little girl who also manages to be the cutest thing on two legs. Hence: patheticute.
Given this fact, The Hubbs and I became concerned when The Princess came home from school on Wednesday, had her snack, and headed straight to bed. For five hours. Dead to the world, like those naps of old.
She stumbled out of her room around the time I got home from work, dragging Dirt Pink behind her and frowning that pathetic little frown...the one that is so pathetic, it's almost cute. She stood in the middle of the living room, looking at nothing in particular, and began to whine.
When I got down on my knees and held out my arms, she catapulted herself into my lap, where she stayed for an uncharacteristically long time. I kissed her forehead as she leaned on me, and, sure enough, she was running a fever.
This poor kid has been in bed nearly perpetually for the last forty-eight-plus hours. When she's not in bed, she's extremely volatile; the slightest thing can send her into hysterics. She's a snot faucet with a nasty cough, and the crazy bed-head only serves to make her more pathetic.
She seems to be doing slightly better this evening, given the fact that she is up and moving around, and has been for more than five minutes at a time. She's eating like a pig, but coughing like an eighty-year-old man with emphysema.
I've set up a doctor's appointment for Monday morning in case she hasn't kicked this thing by then, but in the mean time, here we are. We've got the most pathetic little girl who also manages to be the cutest thing on two legs. Hence: patheticute.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Deliberate
The Hubbs happened to be in the midst of one of "those" days earlier this week. You know, those days when the universe seems to be endlessly entertained by making everything go just wrong enough that you begin to feel hopeless? Yeah, one of those.
You know as well as I how hard it is to pull yourself out of these funks...it can be nearly impossible sometimes. This is why we need help from time to time, don't you think?
And sometimes that help comes from where you'd least expect it to.
On this particular day, a sweet little Princess was especially observant. She noticed something wasn't right with her daddy, and she decided to do something about it. Climbing in his lap with the world's biggest smile on her face, she looked him square in the eye and said the one thing that could make it all better.
Da.
It's happened once or twice before, but this time it was deliberate. How do I know? The Hubbs told me that she grinned from ear to ear right before and after she said it. She thought about her daddy and what might make him feel better, and she climbed into his lap, made eye contact, and said his name. Nothing else; just that one miraculous, deliberate syllable accompanied by a grin.
Sometimes the little things can just be so big.
You know as well as I how hard it is to pull yourself out of these funks...it can be nearly impossible sometimes. This is why we need help from time to time, don't you think?
And sometimes that help comes from where you'd least expect it to.
On this particular day, a sweet little Princess was especially observant. She noticed something wasn't right with her daddy, and she decided to do something about it. Climbing in his lap with the world's biggest smile on her face, she looked him square in the eye and said the one thing that could make it all better.
Da.
It's happened once or twice before, but this time it was deliberate. How do I know? The Hubbs told me that she grinned from ear to ear right before and after she said it. She thought about her daddy and what might make him feel better, and she climbed into his lap, made eye contact, and said his name. Nothing else; just that one miraculous, deliberate syllable accompanied by a grin.
Sometimes the little things can just be so big.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Strobe Light De-Pooh-ing
The Hubbs: "Um, The Princess is standing on top of her dresser."
Me: "How did she get up there?"
The Princess: "HahahahahahahaHAAAA!!!!!"
So, I join The Hubbs and The Princess in her room, in an attempt to figure out what she was using to hoist herself up onto the dresser. Her rolling Eeyore and a few other potential suspects are promptly removed, and The Hubbs and I return to the living room to properly veg out in front of more Sex and the City.
The Princess: "Hehe."
Uh-oh.
The Princess: "HehehahahoohoohahaHAAAA!!!!"
One peek around the corner, and The Hubbs and I can tell she's right back up on top of that dresser. The same dresser, need I remind you, that is surrounded by a veritable moat of nothingness. Not one item that could act as a stepping stone is within four feet of this thing, but there she is, swinging her feet and giggling like a maniac.
And...chewing on something???
Me: "What is that in your mouth, Princess?"
The Princess: "Hehehe...gurgle...slurp...heheeee!"
The Hubbs: "Well, what is it?"
I separate the offending bit of plastic from the oozing drool I now hold in my hand. I, too, want to know what in the heck this thing is. After a moment of total confusion, we figure out that this is the sad remains of one of the (absolutely adorable, and not at all cheap) Winnie the Pooh decals from her wall.
That's right. The Princess has learned how to climb up on her dresser unassisted so she can reach - and eat - the stickers on her walls. Rock on.
When we realize what's going on, The Hubbs and I begin peeling the rest of the decals from the walls. The Princess watches with glee, bouncing around on her dresser and flipping the light switch on and off and on and off and...you get the point. Did I mention the cackling? Or the fact that it's pitch-dark outside by this time?
So, there we are, The Hubbs and me, de-Pooh-ing The Princess's room, when - without warning - she flips the light off. We're blind. You know what it's like going from full light to full dark. It takes a minute to adjust. The only problem is that she finds it so funny to play Strobe Light in the middle of our sticker-peeling fest that she just can't wait long enough for anyone's eyes to adjust before clicking that switch again.
Her timing is impeccable, too. Any time one of us stretches into an unnatural position in an attempt to reach a sticker that is just a little too far away, click. The lights go off. She cackles. We freeze, hoping for the light to be restored before someone is impaled by a horse head on a stick, or - worse - steps on a sharp block. Click, click, click, click.
Giggles.
Clicks.
More giggles.
Note: Fortunately, no members of the Hubbo Family were harmed during this game of Strobe Light De-Pooh-ing. In fact, it was the most fun I've had in a long time.
Me: "How did she get up there?"
The Princess: "HahahahahahahaHAAAA!!!!!"
So, I join The Hubbs and The Princess in her room, in an attempt to figure out what she was using to hoist herself up onto the dresser. Her rolling Eeyore and a few other potential suspects are promptly removed, and The Hubbs and I return to the living room to properly veg out in front of more Sex and the City.
The Princess: "Hehe."
Uh-oh.
The Princess: "HehehahahoohoohahaHAAAA!!!!"
One peek around the corner, and The Hubbs and I can tell she's right back up on top of that dresser. The same dresser, need I remind you, that is surrounded by a veritable moat of nothingness. Not one item that could act as a stepping stone is within four feet of this thing, but there she is, swinging her feet and giggling like a maniac.
And...chewing on something???
Me: "What is that in your mouth, Princess?"
The Princess: "Hehehe...gurgle...slurp...heheeee!"
The Hubbs: "Well, what is it?"
I separate the offending bit of plastic from the oozing drool I now hold in my hand. I, too, want to know what in the heck this thing is. After a moment of total confusion, we figure out that this is the sad remains of one of the (absolutely adorable, and not at all cheap) Winnie the Pooh decals from her wall.
That's right. The Princess has learned how to climb up on her dresser unassisted so she can reach - and eat - the stickers on her walls. Rock on.
When we realize what's going on, The Hubbs and I begin peeling the rest of the decals from the walls. The Princess watches with glee, bouncing around on her dresser and flipping the light switch on and off and on and off and...you get the point. Did I mention the cackling? Or the fact that it's pitch-dark outside by this time?
So, there we are, The Hubbs and me, de-Pooh-ing The Princess's room, when - without warning - she flips the light off. We're blind. You know what it's like going from full light to full dark. It takes a minute to adjust. The only problem is that she finds it so funny to play Strobe Light in the middle of our sticker-peeling fest that she just can't wait long enough for anyone's eyes to adjust before clicking that switch again.
Her timing is impeccable, too. Any time one of us stretches into an unnatural position in an attempt to reach a sticker that is just a little too far away, click. The lights go off. She cackles. We freeze, hoping for the light to be restored before someone is impaled by a horse head on a stick, or - worse - steps on a sharp block. Click, click, click, click.
Giggles.
Clicks.
More giggles.
Note: Fortunately, no members of the Hubbo Family were harmed during this game of Strobe Light De-Pooh-ing. In fact, it was the most fun I've had in a long time.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
The No-Reason Happies
Last night, The Hubbs and I settled in to gobble down some dinner and continue our Sex and the City marathon. You see, I am the proud owner of that gigantic pink faux-suede box set that contains the entire series. Since I just got the second movie for Christmas, we decided it would be fun to watch the whole saga in order from the beginning.
It's been a blast. We still have two seasons to go before we start on the movies.
While we were all snuggled up in our fleece blankets, flannels, and sweat pants, The Princess opted for the usual: running around the house in a onesie dress, doing as she darn well pleases. There were a few moments of unsolicited cuddles, which are always a hit.
But then...
Neither The Hubbs or I noticed anything particularly funny in our living room, but apparently our sense of humor is not as sophisticated as that of The Princess. Out of nowhere, she began to laugh. Belly laugh. Snorting. Tears streaming down her face.
She'd almost recover herself, and then it would start all over again. It must have lasted at least half an hour. Half an hour of the most gleeful sound I could possibly imagine. She laughed so hard, and so heartily, that I found my cheeks and tummy muscles hurting from joining in for so long.
She laughed at me. At Da. At Bubbles. At Sookie. At unseen hilarity. And, boy, did she laugh.
I may not understand it, but I have to say this: the no-reason happies are some of my favorite occurrences in this life. I'll take 'em every day and twice on Sunday. (giggle, giggle, snort!)
It's been a blast. We still have two seasons to go before we start on the movies.
While we were all snuggled up in our fleece blankets, flannels, and sweat pants, The Princess opted for the usual: running around the house in a onesie dress, doing as she darn well pleases. There were a few moments of unsolicited cuddles, which are always a hit.
But then...
Neither The Hubbs or I noticed anything particularly funny in our living room, but apparently our sense of humor is not as sophisticated as that of The Princess. Out of nowhere, she began to laugh. Belly laugh. Snorting. Tears streaming down her face.
She'd almost recover herself, and then it would start all over again. It must have lasted at least half an hour. Half an hour of the most gleeful sound I could possibly imagine. She laughed so hard, and so heartily, that I found my cheeks and tummy muscles hurting from joining in for so long.
She laughed at me. At Da. At Bubbles. At Sookie. At unseen hilarity. And, boy, did she laugh.
I may not understand it, but I have to say this: the no-reason happies are some of my favorite occurrences in this life. I'll take 'em every day and twice on Sunday. (giggle, giggle, snort!)
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
What Was I Thinking?
I'm draggin' this morning, and I haven't seen The Princess since before work yesterday. Thank goodness she got up early, and in a good mood, because I was gone from 6:20 yesterday morning until 9:45 in the evening.
Welcome to the new semester.
It always takes a little time to get used to the goofy schedules I keep when I'm in school. I'm sure I'll be fine after a week or two, but right now it seems as though I'm just asking for it. Just think, this time next year, I'll be done with this degree. Graduated. Mission: accomplished.
What ever will I do with myself then? I'm pretty sure it will involve lots of money and another bout of hectic schedules.
Who decides, at almost 30, that they're suddenly undereducated? That they need not only to complete their associate's degree, but that they want to go for a bachelor's...and as if that's not enough, that they want to go for a Master's? And they're not even sure what they want that Master's in?
Me, that's who.
If this life wasn't infinitely complicated, well, then it just wouldn't be mine.
Welcome to the new semester.
It always takes a little time to get used to the goofy schedules I keep when I'm in school. I'm sure I'll be fine after a week or two, but right now it seems as though I'm just asking for it. Just think, this time next year, I'll be done with this degree. Graduated. Mission: accomplished.
What ever will I do with myself then? I'm pretty sure it will involve lots of money and another bout of hectic schedules.
Who decides, at almost 30, that they're suddenly undereducated? That they need not only to complete their associate's degree, but that they want to go for a bachelor's...and as if that's not enough, that they want to go for a Master's? And they're not even sure what they want that Master's in?
Me, that's who.
If this life wasn't infinitely complicated, well, then it just wouldn't be mine.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Another Long (and long overdue) Update
Yep, we're still alive and kickin' here. It is absolutely amazing to me how fast time is passing...I can't seem to keep up, let alone find the time to post a blog. Rest assured, though, we're doing fine.
Since my last posting, The Princess performed in her first Christmas program at school. This was, by far, the cutest thing that has ever happened. I am fortunate enough to work five minutes from her school, so I met The Hubbs, Grumpa, Hambone, and Nana there for my "lunch break." Three sweet little kiddos with autism, sitting in front of a large audience made up of their family members. Two sweet little kiddos with autism, screaming their bloody heads off and barely making it through the first number. One sweet little Princess with autism, swaying to the music, clapping her hands, and clutching that Santa hat to her head for dear life. I was so proud, I thought I'd burst.
It's funny, but we always have a tendency to shy away from developmental conversations with family. This cousin is doing this, this cousin is doing that, and The Princess is nowhere near their levels...despite the vast age difference with The Princess being the oldest. When it comes to this kind of thing, I tend to will myself not to notice. She is who she is, and there's no reason to compare.
But at the Christmas program I really saw first-hand much of the progress Mrs. G. was raving about during our parent-teacher conference in November. Hearing that The Princess can tune out other kids' tantrums is one thing...an abstract concept. Seeing her continue happily through the program while two other kids melted down right next to her? Crazy. If I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't believe it.
Christmas was wonderful, and - of course - The Princess was spoiled. Between her new keyboard with all sorts of synthesizer sounds from Nana and Grampy, her super-duper cool rocker/teeter totter from Santa, her tent from Grumma and Grumpa, and her fish tank from Hambone and D, we're going to have to hope she doesn't expect anyone to top this next Christmas!
She's back in school after her winter break, and so am I. The Princess is now staying one hour longer per day, leaving after lunch, and arriving home in the early afternoon. I attended my first lecture on Saturday, and I'm gearing up for another semester of insanity (but in a good way!).
Work is good. Just moved to our new office in the hospital, and I love it.
The Hubbs is still The Hubbs, meaning he is still the bestest of the best, both on the Daddy front and the Hubby front. This man is a superhero, the likes of which I've never encountered before. His estrogen-fighting powers alone should qualify him for his very own cape and tights...poor guy, surrounded by gals all the time, and still manages to be so great. Yep, definitely somethin' super there.
Well, since it seems as though I'm transitioning into the once-a-month War-and-Peace post, I suppose it's time for me to go. Hope y'all are havin' as fun a time with things as we are!
Since my last posting, The Princess performed in her first Christmas program at school. This was, by far, the cutest thing that has ever happened. I am fortunate enough to work five minutes from her school, so I met The Hubbs, Grumpa, Hambone, and Nana there for my "lunch break." Three sweet little kiddos with autism, sitting in front of a large audience made up of their family members. Two sweet little kiddos with autism, screaming their bloody heads off and barely making it through the first number. One sweet little Princess with autism, swaying to the music, clapping her hands, and clutching that Santa hat to her head for dear life. I was so proud, I thought I'd burst.
It's funny, but we always have a tendency to shy away from developmental conversations with family. This cousin is doing this, this cousin is doing that, and The Princess is nowhere near their levels...despite the vast age difference with The Princess being the oldest. When it comes to this kind of thing, I tend to will myself not to notice. She is who she is, and there's no reason to compare.
But at the Christmas program I really saw first-hand much of the progress Mrs. G. was raving about during our parent-teacher conference in November. Hearing that The Princess can tune out other kids' tantrums is one thing...an abstract concept. Seeing her continue happily through the program while two other kids melted down right next to her? Crazy. If I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't believe it.
Christmas was wonderful, and - of course - The Princess was spoiled. Between her new keyboard with all sorts of synthesizer sounds from Nana and Grampy, her super-duper cool rocker/teeter totter from Santa, her tent from Grumma and Grumpa, and her fish tank from Hambone and D, we're going to have to hope she doesn't expect anyone to top this next Christmas!
She's back in school after her winter break, and so am I. The Princess is now staying one hour longer per day, leaving after lunch, and arriving home in the early afternoon. I attended my first lecture on Saturday, and I'm gearing up for another semester of insanity (but in a good way!).
Work is good. Just moved to our new office in the hospital, and I love it.
The Hubbs is still The Hubbs, meaning he is still the bestest of the best, both on the Daddy front and the Hubby front. This man is a superhero, the likes of which I've never encountered before. His estrogen-fighting powers alone should qualify him for his very own cape and tights...poor guy, surrounded by gals all the time, and still manages to be so great. Yep, definitely somethin' super there.
Well, since it seems as though I'm transitioning into the once-a-month War-and-Peace post, I suppose it's time for me to go. Hope y'all are havin' as fun a time with things as we are!
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
All By Herself
The Princess spends a lot of time in a onesie these days. Why, you ask? Because she can take normal clothes off and streak across the house and pee on the floor. Bet you'll think twice about asking me "why" again!
She also runs warm, like her momma. In the dead of winter, I hang around the house barefoot in shorts and a tank top, except for the odd times when I catch a chill. For her whole life, The Princess has been like me in this way. 99% of the time, she is perfectly happy to run around with bare arms and legs.
Today, though, it apparently got a bit chilly for my little one. So, (drumroll, please), she dug through her room, found a pair of stretch pants, and put them on. By herself. Okay, so they were inside-out. And they didn't even come close to matching her ever-present onesie.
But she put them on. All by herself.
That was the best darned phone call I think I've ever gotten at work. I'm so proud of my baby!
She also runs warm, like her momma. In the dead of winter, I hang around the house barefoot in shorts and a tank top, except for the odd times when I catch a chill. For her whole life, The Princess has been like me in this way. 99% of the time, she is perfectly happy to run around with bare arms and legs.
Today, though, it apparently got a bit chilly for my little one. So, (drumroll, please), she dug through her room, found a pair of stretch pants, and put them on. By herself. Okay, so they were inside-out. And they didn't even come close to matching her ever-present onesie.
But she put them on. All by herself.
That was the best darned phone call I think I've ever gotten at work. I'm so proud of my baby!
Monday, December 13, 2010
Chuggin' On Through
English class: done.
Math class: done.
Ethics class: done.
Just the art appreciation final to go, and then no school for a month! Bit by bit, I'm chuggin' my way through this associates degree, and I'm feelin' pretty darned good about myself right now.
P.S. Check it out...I got through an entire post without babbling,swearing or bitching.
Math class: done.
Ethics class: done.
Just the art appreciation final to go, and then no school for a month! Bit by bit, I'm chuggin' my way through this associates degree, and I'm feelin' pretty darned good about myself right now.
P.S. Check it out...I got through an entire post without babbling,
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