See! I made that vow a week ago, and I'm kind of keeping it. You know, now that we're not doing constant laundry on the sanitize mode and taking a bowl with us everywhere we go just in case someone throws up.
We only lasted about fifteen minutes before everyone got cold and demanded hot chocolate. But I feel good we got out, and (this is for you, Dr. Oz) we got our daily allotment of Vitamin D.
Hooray for sunshine!
This picture was taken Thursday morning. Just as life was going from the normal crazy to downright stupid.
Thursday morning: The weather forces a two-hour delay. Shep's school is canceled as is his turn as Star of the Day. He will be devastated when he figures this out. Neko starts to feel cruddy and begins running a fever. She sobs as we tell her she will have to miss school.
Thursday evening: Neko throws up two hours after going to bed. The rest of the night is a big blur of no sleep and waiting on a sick kid.
Friday: Neko has no school. What should have been a fun day out with my three kids turns into a day where Tom and I ping pong kids back and forth and attempt to keep Shep and Ellery healthy. Much laundry is done and many Clorox wipes used. Neko is still throwing up.
Saturday: I'm supposed to spend the day up north, celebrating at Beth and Dave's baby shower. Instead I spend the morning packing up the shower gift and putting it in the mail. It didn't seem wise for me to be 2.5 hours away when vomit is involved. Special thanks to Barb for taking Shep and Ellery while I run around and get errands done. Tom spends the day waiting on Neko. Things seem to be looking up, so I get to leave for the evening to celebrate Anne's birthday over an insanely good dinner. Yum. The night is kind of quiet, except for those two hours Tom has to get up and watch TV with Neko.
Sunday: Anne's actual birthday…happy birthday! Try to let Tom sleep in (not very successful). Shellie offers to take the kids for a few hours, so I drive them over. Neko is cranky and out of sorts. She takes one sip of cocoa and throws up all over Shellie's table and floor. Thank goodness Shellie loves us. Not only does she clean up vomit, but even offers to keep Shep and Ellery. Bring Neko back home and settle her. Cancel her afternoon playdate.
Sunday evening: Things are looking better. I think. Am determined everyone will be healthy by tomorrow. I will it to be so.
Sunday evening, bedtime: After well over a year of referring to himself as Sizzles the Dog, Shep informs me he is now Spot the Dog. And my heart shatters into many pieces. Kids can't throw up and grow up all in one weekend. My heart can't take it. He'd better take that back tomorrow.
I've been trying to do a few more projects around here. Not because I'm trying to win any sort of Martha Stewart award, but because it's a matter of sanity. The 4-5:30pm block around here is brutal. Neko comes homes exhausted but without the resources to be patient or kind. Shep is running on adrenaline because he no longer naps, but probably should still be napping. And Ellery is all like, "WHEEE! I'm surrounded by crazy!"
Anyway, today we tried a color mixing project. Make a batch of unflavored gelatin, and then split into three separate bowls and color with red, blue and yellow food coloring. (I did this while the kids were eating lunch, so it took almost no time.) When it has cooled, the kids get to mix colors in small Ziplocs.
All in all, this was a good project. The colors don't mix smoothly, but instead give a stained glass kind of effect, but it was clear to see what the result is when colors blend. And it was fabulous for the kids to have something to concentrate on other than each other.
I will mention, however, that if you have kids like mine, they won't be able to resist opening the Ziplocs. They all ended up in the tub for an early bath after about 20 minutes, where Shep discovered (quite unhappily) that the gelatin turns back into a liquid rather quickly in water.
Between being designers and nature folk, we have a great fondness for Charlie Harper around here.
I had heard there was a Charlie Harper mural in a building around here, so this afternoon we set out to find it. The minute we walked into the building, Neko squealed. We spent a long time finding different animals. And then we found the bathroom. And the pay phone on the wall.
On the way back to the car, the kids delighted in stomping the melting snow. They clearly needed fresh air and some time to be outside. I need to get them out more this winter. Even it's freezing and I'm a total wimp about the cold.
And, no, Ellery is not wearing a coat. I don't think a large bear could have wrestled it on her this afternoon.
The kids are restless as the cold, icy weekend draws to a close. Tom decided to take Neko and Shep to the craft store, while Ellery and I made our way through Target and Old Navy. After Target, we stopped at Chipotle, where Ellery insisted on staying and eating lunch at a table. In a big chair. Like big people do.
Then we headed to Old Navy, where she insisted on sitting in the infant stroller, reclined back, her feet propped on the basket, chewing on coat hangers.
Kid? Baby? We're clearly somewhere in between.
There's that whole adage about parenthood—give your children wings and then let them fly. Which, you know, I thought meant when they were 18 and I packed all their belongings into our minivan and carted them off to college.
But I can see it's going to come much sooner.
Going with ice skating with Neko used to be a bit of a challenge. She wants to go fast, but lacks the patience to learn the skills. So she would hang on my arm the whole time, demanding to go faster. Although great quality time, inevitably, the next day I would wake up with some sort of tweak in my back from being in an awkward position for two hours.
However, Neko's school has begun its winter skating program, where the whole school goes skating on Friday afternoons. Enter Kaili, super-partner, and today Neko proudly proclaimed that she can skate by herself. She can even turn easily, because Kaili taught her how (many demonstrations followed).
And so she could. For the first ten minutes of skating today, she clung to my arm, but then she took off. I could barely keep up, not just because she's quick, but she's tiny and can squeeze past people when it gets crowded.
This is the view I saw most of her today. Periodically, she spotted a few friends, and went skating off with them. I suppose this is the beginning of that whole wings thing. At least, for the time being, I get to watch her as she flies.
None of my other kids liked dolls. Stuffed lizards and big stock pots, but not dolls.
Until Ellery came along.
She's been obsessed with all things "baby" since she could attempt the word (which was one of her first, I might add). She borrows babies from my mother's house and the library. She totes them around lovingly.
For Christmas we got her this pretend diaper bag, complete with bottle, changing pad, wipes, and extra diapers. And for 20 minutes today, she very carefully wiped the bottom of this baby, lifting her leg just like she's seen me do many times before, placed just so on the changing pad.
I can't help but note the irony that the one that seems to love mothering the most is the baby of this family. Thank goodness Bonnie is having one that she can dote on.
Overall, I feel like we're pretty "green" people. We recycle. We use rechargeable batteries. We use biodegradable trash bags. In the summer, we make a vain attempt to compost.
But I have a confession.
My dishwasher. I adore it. And I run it at least once, if not twice, a day. And it's not always full. It's a magic little marvel, especially after having children. Sippy cups, with all their thousands of parts, pacifiers, toys that have been found in questionable places—all resolved with the push of a button.
Phew. That feels better now that I have that out in the open.
(Please no comments about the fingerprints all over my dishwasher.)
Sometimes, on my way to do a load of laundry, I catch one of these bizarre things out of the corner of my eye and wonder how having this strange collection of ephemera will shape my children.
Quite often I walk into a room of the house and there’s some weird set-up like this.
This is Shep’s work. Apparently, he presses “play” on this little disc player and the shoes indicate what direction he’s supposed to run in. Then he runs in manic circles. I’m not really sure why he set it up as a triangle and not a circle. Triangles are easier, maybe?
We could do this crazy stuff all day. Just don’t ask us to do long division.