Friday, September 19, 2008

Baby et al. Goes to the Doctor

Nyobi needed a doctors visit on Thursday. She has a virus that won't go away, and I was concerned it was something worse. Being used to our doctors offices methodology, I knew I had two choices, call in early in the morning and hope I got lucky, or take Nyobi in to the prompt care. Prompt care involves showing up, turing in some information and then waiting in the hopes someone can work you in. Cora is not good at waiting, and a Doctors offices are filled with that dreaded "W" word.

I struck gold and got an appointment for 2:40PM. I showed up ten minutes before my appointment. While going through paperwork with the lady at the front desk, I glanced up. Coras blanket was still right where she had been, but she was across the lobby. In fact, she was inside the elevators and the doors were closing.

After the nurse escorted a slightly wild eyed Mom, Cora, carrying the daiper bag, and the Nyobi into the examining room and took a weight (14 1/2 lbs) we settled in to wait.

Fortunately, I bourght smarties. Cora and I played a game called, if you try and anwer a question you get a smartie. It is fun. It is fun, because it lessens the number of time I have to NO behavior, exploration. She also emptied the diaper bag out onto the floor. Tried to put on her sisters pants, and stole a tongue depressor.

Considering it took an hour and twenty minutes to do the appointment, Cora was very well behaved. Nyobi was an angel. She, of course, is too small to try and get into stuff.

And fortunately, the elevator doors opened, before Cora got off the ground.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008


It is a good thing that I have a six foot privacy fence around my back yard. My daughter, Cora does not appreciate the modesty bequeathed upon her by clothes. She would rather race naked through the yard than wear anything. Frequently, I send a well dressed two year old out to play only to turn around and find a mostly naked child eating all my tomatoes.

As if outside nakedness were bad enough, Cora's opinion of clothes extends inside. She will change outfits at least once during the day. I have no idea why. She is sensitive to any spills or dribbles. The first time a drop of milk touches her shirt, the darn thing comes off. Its hard to explain to guests why your two year old is stripping at the table. At the back of my mind is a discussion my mother and I had when she was first receiving solid foods.

In an effort to save on laundry, I stripped her to her diaper when I spoon fed her. Dearest Nanny insisted that my daughter would think she was supposed to eat naked. Yes, Nanny, I remember this discussion. Yes, Nanny, you were right.

Nakedness is spreading too. With baby smiles and coos, Nyobi convinces her big sister to help her undress. Its hard to imagine Cora coming up with that idea all by herself (heavy sarcasm intended). Being an extra big helper, Cora is also always on the lookout for pee diapers. She checks them, and then removes. Being a two year old extra big helper, that is where her efforts end.

Which is why I will walk into the living room to find a nudist colony meeting and four big INNOCENT bright blue eyes.


It is cute. It is super cute. If I took a picture, child family services and the FBI would investigate me for something so vile I can barely stand to think of it. That is why I am so busy trying to figure out how to secure clothes and diapers on two children. I should feel fortunate that Cora knows the difference between baby poo and lotion.

PS: In the middle of composing this article, I walked into the livingroom only to be met by four INNOCENT blue eyes.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

A Good Day

Last night at dinner, when Cora was acting up and my husband started to get perturbed, I made certain to inform him that our eldest was very good the whole day. He looks at me with surprised. Generally you can tell how bad or good Cora was by the state of the house work chores. A needy day leaves dishes in the sink, dirt on the floor and usually paper towels over cleaned up potty training messes that need one more spritz of deodorizer.

"For a two year old." I interjected. My standards of good and bad behavior have drastically changed since the new baby arrived and my business is doing better.

"That is true." My husband says, his eyes lighting up with glee. "The house isn't on fire, and you didn't call me from the emergency room all day long."

Obviously his standards of good and bad behavior have also adjusted.

I need to go make certain that the lighters and matches are securely located and the fire extinguishers function.