Monday, November 7, 2011

Really Long Vacation

A year ago, I fell down a slippery slope, both mentally and physically.  In a physical sense, I slid down a muddy hill while holding my youngest (then one).  I cracked the head of my humerus.  From that physical impairment, I launched into the winter of sickness and house woes.

When summer arrived, I was still mentally buried under Amoxacillin dosage charts, Prednisone and allergy testing.  This October, we scrambled all the opinions together, and produced an omelet of results.  Instead of having questions about what was going on, we have a direction to move in.  So, during a really long vacation, I would like to share with you what I have learned.

A: Anya. The child I nursed the longest is allergic to Oats and Fish, has seasonal allergies, asthma, and a tendancy to smurf out (turn blue) while screaming after licking the glass on the lobster tank at Meijers. 

B: Bee. The child I nursed the shortest has Celiacs Disease.  She is not allergic to anything, though.  A gluten free diet finally made her capable of potty training, and instead of discussing variants in the childs diarrhea I talk about how she has so much more energy and a happier demeanor. 

C:  Cora.  Is capable of being more adult like than any 5 1/2 year old should be.  She is a rock worth standing with and supporting and yes, I am working on signing her up for Ballet lessons as per her request.

D:  I can change diapers with only my left hand. 

E:  Eating.  We now have a fish free, gluten free, oat free low lactose kitchen.  In case you are wondering what that means food wise, almost everything is cooked at home.  Insta-food, and half of the sauces and flavorings are no longer options.  I do buy 25 lbs bags of rice though.

F:  Fun!  But between it all, my children are still teaching me new lessons.  For instance, in the middle of writing this blog, they taught me how to clean raw egg out of carpet.  Evidently not all eggs make it down the little people carnival slide in tact. 


Monday, September 20, 2010

How children wake up.

This morning I woke to the dulcet tones of my youngest.  She woke up to her fathers alarm, which I did not hear.  I could tell that because the sleep clogged form of my husband loomed in the door way.   "I will get her"  I said. 

"Oh"  He said, pausing.  "that's good."  As he went into the bathroom, the releif evident in his shoulders.  We've been fighting a family cold.  My dose is the slimmest, but I'm also dealing with all the sick-o's and sleep deprivation.  Hence, my being up to get the morning call made his morning easier; that and tylenol.

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"Thank you dear"  I said as I carried her gift into the living room.  It was my husbands camera, almost identical to Nahnis, save the lack of a swanky strap.  Rolling my eyes I set it up out of easy reach.  The siren in the other room was at "Get me now" levels.  When I picked her up, Nyobi at my heels, she immediately started giggling.  The younger two jumped up and down and tried to help me make milks and coffee.  They helped me fold up the futon.  They insisted upon snuggling with me, and then tickled each other on my lap.  This is how they wake up.  Fast easy and ready to go!  They have no tolerance for my clueless stumbling.

A half hour later, my eldest floats out of the bedroom on a cloud of sleep fog.  She shifts back and forth finally resting on the futon.  She climbs up next to me and sits side ways.  

"Morning"  I say.
"Mmmmm"  She says.  Then she realizes she is sitting on her blanket.  She pulls on the edge of it.  It will not move.  She shifts her weight, and pulls harder. Before either of us can react, she flips herself off the edge of the futon, as the blanket pops free.  In a stunned heap on the floor she begins to pout.  I have to lift her back up on the futon.

This is how I wake up.  My husband has learned (he tells me through survival instinct)  how to cope.  Offer the morning beverage of choice and back off until they start talking. 

Where IS my coffee?

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Dinner and a Doughnut

Today at Meijers, my eldest managed to figure out how to employ the pouty face with the correct social interactions.  First she asked why I didn't let her take Magic blanket into the store if the OTHER girl they met who was older than her could have her stuffed kitty.  Then she stared longingly into the doughnut case as I tried to whisk them past it.  Then she said with a slight pouty face,  "I've never had a red doughnut before." 

That was all.  She just stood and stared.  A few minutes later there were four doughnuts (one red, one containing a Bee acceptable worm, one Anya sparkly and one chocolate chocolate) in a box in the cart.  My willpower and reason were abandoned in the face of self restraint and non-bugginess.

We brought them home, along with the milk that we were supposed to buy.  I unloaded them from the car, and designated the donut box to Cora.  Our new place requires a few yard hike from the car port to our door.  The doughnuts arrived with very little frosting smeared off considering they were flipped twice and tossed willy nilly onto the kitchen table.  I quickly seated small ones and plated doughnuts.  Cora received her whole pie, as well as Bee, whose appetite at lunch lacked her usual vigor.  Anya, who consumed copious amounts of hummus for so small a child, I gave a quarter of a chocolate sprinkled special.  I had no intention of allowing her the entire doughnut.  There was no way she could fit the whole thing in her stomach, and if she tried to, she would probably return some of it early. 

Then I made my first mistake.  I put the milk away without consuming my own doughnut.  As I walked back into the room, my elder children fled back to their seats, and my own doughnut and Anya's remaining three quarters had several large chunks missing.  Admonishing them to stay seated I took a few bites, and slipped off to the bath room. 

That was my second mistake.  They DID listen, and only ate their own doughnut.  In fact, my own sweet stood temptingly upon my plate when I returned.  However, Anya's plate was empty. "What happened to Anya's doughnut?"  I asked. 

"She couldn't reach it, so I gave it to her."  Cora explained.  At this comment, the sugar high, chocolate smeared one year old smiled.  I re-assessed my opinion of her stomach cavity, and reminded myself not to put any pressure on her abdomen while holding her over carpet.

"Done!"  Anya said,  waving a frosting and sprinkle covered palm, then pausing, she stared at the center of her hand.  She licked it, giggled and reached for her hair. 

Nobody ate much at dinner tonight. 

As for that special red frosting, for the girl whom adores red,  it tastes "scrumptious, like cherry tomatoes." 

Glad I had the chocolate on chocolate, cherry tomato flavored frosting sounds just a bit odd to me.
 

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Games Infants Play

Anyas new favorite games include peek-a-boo, ambulence siren and mountain goat.  All children must play these games, and I am certain my elder two did their fair share of peek-a-boo.  However, the penetrating noises at volumes expected of megaphone enhanced speakers are singular to my third.  She will make you deaf.  I have noticed an impairment to my elder twos hearing already.  No wait, that is normal child behavior.

It is the game of Mountain Goat which is aging me the quickest.  She insists upon climbing everything.  While moving into our new place, she managed to reach the apex of a computer monitor, attempt to position herself on the bar (from the floor via the futon)  and stand on the childrens rocker.  I would not mind her interest in the child size rocking chair, if she would just put her butt down on it.  yesterday I watched her attempt to stand on the arms, to reach something on the book shelf. 

At eleven months, she already managed to sit on top of the kitchen table, proud as punch.  When I walked into the room she did what every brave shnookie attempting to grey their mothers head would do.  She stood up and took a couple tremulous steps across the flat surface. 

Upon finding herself hugged sharply and deposited on the safe fluffy carpeted floor she smiled at me.  Then she crawled back to the bottom of the high chair to try it again. 

The games infants play are why parents drink.

Monday, August 2, 2010

A Week with a Dog

After spending a week with a dog in the house, my youngest learned many new skills.  At the end of a meal, she now joins her sisters in a chorus of "Done".  She also politely tosses her surplus off the edge of her tray.  Poor Sammy is probably going to have a tummy ache after all the childrens bits they fed him "accidentally"  and his job cleaning up thier usual surplus left in the high chairs. 

The real problem comes in differentiation though.  If Nanis pet loves leftovers then our pet must as well.  Our cat Bombay views small chunks of chicken hurled at her not as a blessing, but as lava fire balls from hell. 

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Shopping with children

At the bulk discount grocery store I frequent, the sales man who checked us out gave me a great deal.  He sold me a free toddler with the box of diaper wipes and a free infant with the box of diapers.  I asked him how much I owed for my four year old, and he shrugged,  "She comes as a bonus with the vodka."  Before I could close my mouth I had said it.  "Thats how we got her in the first place!"

Then there is the farm market.  Nyobi beat Cora for the most produce procured because of nibbling.  she added two salad cucumbers, one zuccini, one banana pepper and a hand full of blue berries to my fruits and vegis.  I have to admit though, that it feels awesome to walk through the market with two cucumber munching children.  It felt even better today when we passed the Mom of the child crying for cookies, and my kids didn't even look at the confections. 


Here is another parenting blunder that we encountered today.  There were two separate parents using their cell phones to entertain their children, one with precisely the same phone that I have.  Perhaps I should have shown them the pointed impact that Nyobi made on my phone.  Then again, I doubt they would have believed it.  To finish off our marathon shopping trip, Anya decided she wanted to drive the car home after I was done nursing.  Being a Mom, I'm certain she said "drive!"  when she grabbed the wheel.  Is it too soon to move to Mackinaw Island?  They do not have cars there. 

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Learning to Speak

Helping three small children learn to speak creates some interesting moments.  Dinner last night was punctuated by Cora repeating one by one all the bad words she has learned in English, waiting for the reaction and then repeating the suggested substitutes.  This is advanced language. 

Nyobi is learning enunciation.  Removing her nuky from her mouth creates three or four words distinguishable sentences.  "Ice Cube Please Mom"  is one of my favorite. "I like coffee, MMMM"  is another.

My favorite is Anya though.  She can say Mama.  "Caaa" for Cora.  "Kiii" for Kitty.   "NNNNN"  for nyobi, and "IEAAAIE" for Dad.   Right now she is saying "WAAAH  punctured by "YAAAAA"  because I'm not holding her.   Laptop time has ended.