Friday, December 12, 2008

A day without Pain

This morning, in the midst of the rush to get everything done and get out of the house, we multi tasked. My husband went to the end of the drive way to bring back the trash cans, and I got the kids in the car and pulled out onto the drive. Unfortunately, Cora decided that I, in my infinite wisdom, forgot to make sure daddy wasn't in the car.

As I pulled out of the garage, there were genuine tears rolling down her cheeks as she frantically tried to communicate the fact that Daddy wasn't in the car. "Forgot Daddy! Forgot Daddy!" I stopped in the drive way, and the forgotten one approached the vehicle and climbed in.

Nyobi managed to soften up a client whom I work with. Her happy looks also smoothed over some rough emotional background. I think she might be starting, or fighting a minor ear infection, but she's such a happy baby, its hard to figure out when she's in pain. Asside from the occassional teething issues (she draws blood with the two teeth she has), she is a smiley child.

This afternoon, my big girl helped me make all sorts of appetaizers for a family party. I need to do this again when I visit the other side (mine) of the family. Cora rolled, spread, sprinkled and thoroughly enjoyed the cooking process. Please don't mention this to anyone until after the 13th. People are always a little suspicious of child cooked foods, and with good cause.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Someone is Sleeping

Due to the marvels of Michigan weather, I spent the night at my parents in an impromptu grandchildren visit. Wound up from driving in an icy sloshing winter scape, It took me an hour to settle into the idea of crawling into bed. At midnight, I cuddled up closed my eyes and fell half asleep.

The special senses that come with being a mother, or a light sleeper, woke me up an hour later. As I opened my eyes, I got a close up view of my eldest daughters face. "Mom, I sleep with you?" she queried. I moved over, made room and helped hoist her into bed.

Evidently, her definition of sleep and mine are not the same. Half an hour later, she is still tossing and turning, and putting her cold feet on my legs. I believe this was the time that frazzled tired mom said something about f'ing going to sleep. A moment of peaceful silence followed, and I drifted off with the illusion that cora was asleep.

In the depths of slumber a small voice said "I go see Sammy and Nanny."

Once it filtered through, my eyes popped open to a deserted pile of covers. I leapt out of bed, motiviated by an entirely unrealistic urge to find and duct tape my child in her sleeping bag. At the top of the staircase, I found her cuddling with the dog, and physically relocated her. Just as she was drifting off to sleep, there was a sound from a corner.

The baby was hungery.

I am sure, someone somewhere was sleeping, but it was not me. I was busy trying to comfort a sleepless two year old, and feed a baby.