As the girls' big Christmas present, I took them to see Ballet Austin's performance of The Nutcracker yesterday. Unlike last year's trip, this year's adventure was a lot of fun.
First off, the show was at the Paramount Theater on Congress Avenue, which is such a neat venue. It's an old building, and the theater itself is very ornate, with murals on the ceiling and lots gold everywhere. The girls were antsy until the curtain went up, then they sat on the edges of their seats for the rest of the show.
Lily asked a few funny questions at the beginning, like why wasn't anyone talking and why did the ladies have the backs of their dresses attached to their arms. I just kept shushing her. Ella asked a few questions about who was who, but mostly she just watched, silent with big eyes.
I think Lily's favorite part of the whole thing, though, was getting to clap. Every time there was applause, she'd sit straight up and clap for all she was worth, with the biggest smile on her face. I loved seeing her face light up like that.
The only thing that marred the event was Ella's meltdown over her Nutcracker ornament. I told the girls they could each pick out a small Nutcracker as a souvenir. Ella grabbed one right away and carried it around, clutched to her chest. Lily took a bit longer to pick her, I think because she was hoping I'd change my mind and let her get a big Clara doll. After they had made their choices and we'd made our way back to the car, Ella started sobbing because she had decided she liked Lily's ornament better than her own. She tried to convince Lily to trade ornaments with her, but that just made Lily start sobbing. Lily calmed down when I assured her that she didn't have to trade if she didn't want to, but Ella kept up the waterworks the whole way home and off and on for about an hour after we were home. She started up again after the girls were in bed, sending Lily notes about trading, which set Lily off again.
Sigh.
Ella has now added a large, red Nutcracker to her Santa list, which grows by the day.
Despite the tears at the end, the girls really did have a good time. When I asked them what their favorite parts of the show were, they both said, "Everything!" They also made B read them their Nutcracker book at bedtime last night. I'm sure this afternoon we'll have a dance recital, complete with the proper music.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Friday, December 07, 2007
First haircut
I've been trying to take Campbell for a haircut for a while now. His little baby mullet had outgrown its cute stage and had just turned embarrassing. B, however, was absolutely opposed to my taking Campbell to get his hair cut. Finally, when one of our friends commented on how Campbell was showing B's redneck southern roots, B relented and said I could take the baby for a trim. But when I said that I'd take him to Miss Pam, who cuts my hair and the girls' hair, B protested again. "He's a boy, so he goes to the barber," B said. I gave in, and this morning I took Campbell to B's barber.
I should note that we all go to the same barbershop/beauty parlor. It's called the Crestview Barbershop, and it is a complete throwback to the '50s. Miss Pam is the owner, and she has several other stylists and barbers working there. It is definitely the hub of our little neighborhood. Folks stop in to gossip and show off pictures of babies and grandchildren. Older, retired men hang out all morning trading stories. This morning they were all discussing where they were 66 years ago today when Pearl Harbor was bombed. The barbershop is one of the many things that makes our little section of Austin so cool.
Back to the haircut. Campbell sat up on Tony the Pony for Jarrod, B's barber, and he was very quiet and good the whole time. The only time he moved was to listen to the men around him talking. Campbell didn't even flinch when Jarrod pulled out the electric razor.
Lots of Campbell's curls are gone, but there are plenty left. And I can see the back of his sweet baby neck again. Still, he looks like a big boy now, not a baby. Sob.
My Elf name
I saw this link over on the Bloghore's site, and I clicked it just out of curiosity, not at all intending to post about it. But when I saw my elf name, I burst out laughing because it is just so appropriate.
It's been a week from hell, and as my husband and children can attest, I've been pretty damn grumpy all week. And as I've written about, my teeth are falling apart - one is even sticking way out of line on the bottom. Some day, if I ever get my teeth to stop falling apart, I'm going to have braces again. I long for straight teeth.
So based on just my name, the the Elf Name site gave me the most perfect name I could imagine.
| My Elf Name Is... |
 |
It's been a week from hell, and as my husband and children can attest, I've been pretty damn grumpy all week. And as I've written about, my teeth are falling apart - one is even sticking way out of line on the bottom. Some day, if I ever get my teeth to stop falling apart, I'm going to have braces again. I long for straight teeth.
So based on just my name, the the Elf Name site gave me the most perfect name I could imagine.
I'm back
It's been a rough week around here, and every post I started was a litany of the things that were going wrong. So I decided that if I couldn't say anything nice, I shouldn't say anything at all. I think today I can say something nice, or at least not whiny.
Here I go.
Ella has been the climbiest of my kids. She's been climbing since she knew she had legs. At age two, B taught her how to shinny up door frames, and we haven't been able to keep her feet on the ground since. She still climbs door frames, and trees, and poles, and furniture, and anything else she can get a toehold on. We've started her in rock climbing classes to give her a constructive place to climb.
Now it looks like Campbell will be following in her footsteps. Every time I turn around these days, he's either on top of something or halfway up something. He figured out that if he puts a stepstool next to the coffee table, he can stand on the coffee table. When we took away the stepstool, he rolled his little pushtoy over to the coffee table and used that as a step. Yesterday morning I took something away from him and put it on my bed-side table. An ottoman was next to the table, so Campbell climbed on the ottoman and then onto the table. When he summitted the table, he screeched and clapped, so proud of what he had done. B and I watched Campbell, just to see if he could get on the table. When he did, we both looked at each other and sighed. We know all too well what we're in for.
I just hope that Campbell has Ella's level of coordination, but it's not looking good so far. We had always figured that with Ella's climbing we'd end up in the ER on a regular basis with her. But she seems to have inherited her father's cat-like grace and agility (his words, not mine), and she almost never falls. Campbell, on the other hand, falls every couple of minutes, mostly because he rushes headlong around the house. He's very good at running, not so good at stopping. I have the feeling our Thanksgiving trip to the ER won't be our last.
He's on the coffee table again - gotta go.
Here I go.
Ella has been the climbiest of my kids. She's been climbing since she knew she had legs. At age two, B taught her how to shinny up door frames, and we haven't been able to keep her feet on the ground since. She still climbs door frames, and trees, and poles, and furniture, and anything else she can get a toehold on. We've started her in rock climbing classes to give her a constructive place to climb.
Now it looks like Campbell will be following in her footsteps. Every time I turn around these days, he's either on top of something or halfway up something. He figured out that if he puts a stepstool next to the coffee table, he can stand on the coffee table. When we took away the stepstool, he rolled his little pushtoy over to the coffee table and used that as a step. Yesterday morning I took something away from him and put it on my bed-side table. An ottoman was next to the table, so Campbell climbed on the ottoman and then onto the table. When he summitted the table, he screeched and clapped, so proud of what he had done. B and I watched Campbell, just to see if he could get on the table. When he did, we both looked at each other and sighed. We know all too well what we're in for.
I just hope that Campbell has Ella's level of coordination, but it's not looking good so far. We had always figured that with Ella's climbing we'd end up in the ER on a regular basis with her. But she seems to have inherited her father's cat-like grace and agility (his words, not mine), and she almost never falls. Campbell, on the other hand, falls every couple of minutes, mostly because he rushes headlong around the house. He's very good at running, not so good at stopping. I have the feeling our Thanksgiving trip to the ER won't be our last.
He's on the coffee table again - gotta go.
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Give me a break, please?
So I'm going to whine just a bit. Here's a list of things that have gone wrong today.
1. I called my pulmonologist yesterday at 1:00 and asked a nurse to call me about my continued wheezing. The receptionist called me back today at 7:30 pm to tell me that she had no record of my being one of their patients. Nevermind that I've been going to this doctor for 8 years. Turns out they had my name spelled wrong in their system. The receptionist then offered me an appointment with the doctor on December 26. When I said that I was having trouble breathing NOW, she offered to have the nurse call me in the morning, almost 48 hours after my first phone call. Then to add insult to injury, when I gave her my home number for the nurse to call, she said, "Oh, you're one of the lucky ones who doesn't have to rush out to go to work every morning." I was so stunned that someone would actually say that that I could only splutter, "I have three kids. My work is here in the house." If I had been feeling better, I would have given her an ear full.
2. I had several hours of dental work yesterday to fix my decalcifying teeth. My dentist warned me that I'd feel like I'd been beaten up, and boy she wasn't joking. My jaw is still swollen in three places, and I still feel like I was punched repeatedly. It hurts to open my mouth very far, so I haven't eaten much in the past 36 hours.
3. The pain from the dental appointment caused a pretty major migraine yesterday afternoon, and the after-effects are still lingering. I have that bad tingling feeling behind my right eye warning me to be careful lest the migraine explode again.
4. I have pink eye. I woke up this morning to goop in one eye, but I figure it was just a strange consequence of my head's being stuffed up or the dental appointment. But the goop, itchyness and redness have gotten worse over the course of the day. I'm going to have to ask the nurse at the pulmonologist's office, if she ever calls, to phone in a prescription for me. The kicker - not one of the kids has it, which leaves me to wonder where I got it. And how long it's going to take for one of them to get it.
5. Campbell has such a bad diaper rash that he doesn't want me to even touch his bottom, which makes diaper changing painful all the way around. I gave him part of a clementine orange the other day, which he gobbled down, and I have a feeling that's what caused his current problems. I let him run around without a diaper for about an hour this afternoon, but after he came close to peeing on his friend's foot during playtime, I decided to clothe him. I'm alternating between Burt's Bees, California Baby, and Aquafor, hoping that one will clear up his poor heiny.
6. The next three weeks are going to be crazy, crazy work-wise. We have five levels of presentations due between now and December 20. I don't have to create the presentations, but I do have to review them as they come through and get them cleaned up for final pass. I wouldn't mind all the work, but it's taking away from my knitting!
There, I think that's it.
1. I called my pulmonologist yesterday at 1:00 and asked a nurse to call me about my continued wheezing. The receptionist called me back today at 7:30 pm to tell me that she had no record of my being one of their patients. Nevermind that I've been going to this doctor for 8 years. Turns out they had my name spelled wrong in their system. The receptionist then offered me an appointment with the doctor on December 26. When I said that I was having trouble breathing NOW, she offered to have the nurse call me in the morning, almost 48 hours after my first phone call. Then to add insult to injury, when I gave her my home number for the nurse to call, she said, "Oh, you're one of the lucky ones who doesn't have to rush out to go to work every morning." I was so stunned that someone would actually say that that I could only splutter, "I have three kids. My work is here in the house." If I had been feeling better, I would have given her an ear full.
2. I had several hours of dental work yesterday to fix my decalcifying teeth. My dentist warned me that I'd feel like I'd been beaten up, and boy she wasn't joking. My jaw is still swollen in three places, and I still feel like I was punched repeatedly. It hurts to open my mouth very far, so I haven't eaten much in the past 36 hours.
3. The pain from the dental appointment caused a pretty major migraine yesterday afternoon, and the after-effects are still lingering. I have that bad tingling feeling behind my right eye warning me to be careful lest the migraine explode again.
4. I have pink eye. I woke up this morning to goop in one eye, but I figure it was just a strange consequence of my head's being stuffed up or the dental appointment. But the goop, itchyness and redness have gotten worse over the course of the day. I'm going to have to ask the nurse at the pulmonologist's office, if she ever calls, to phone in a prescription for me. The kicker - not one of the kids has it, which leaves me to wonder where I got it. And how long it's going to take for one of them to get it.
5. Campbell has such a bad diaper rash that he doesn't want me to even touch his bottom, which makes diaper changing painful all the way around. I gave him part of a clementine orange the other day, which he gobbled down, and I have a feeling that's what caused his current problems. I let him run around without a diaper for about an hour this afternoon, but after he came close to peeing on his friend's foot during playtime, I decided to clothe him. I'm alternating between Burt's Bees, California Baby, and Aquafor, hoping that one will clear up his poor heiny.
6. The next three weeks are going to be crazy, crazy work-wise. We have five levels of presentations due between now and December 20. I don't have to create the presentations, but I do have to review them as they come through and get them cleaned up for final pass. I wouldn't mind all the work, but it's taking away from my knitting!
There, I think that's it.
She still believes!
Yesterday I took the kids to the mall to buy them "Nutcracker" dresses, which are different than the "Christmas" dresses my mother-in-law bought them. Thankfully, I was able to find each girl an outfit that both she and I liked. Lily selected a little pleated, plaid skirt and a pretty white cardigan. Ella picked out a pretty red dress with an empire waist and a sash - very simple and very pretty. We were all happy, well except for Lily who wanted the skirt AND a dress.
After picking out the dresses and getting a present for my sister and a pair of black dress shoes for Ella, we went to meet Santa Claus. Lily had been pestering me during the whole excursion about meeting Santa, so she was so happy when we finally headed that direction. When we got there, however, Lily hid behind me and peeked out at Santa, not saying a word. Ella, for the first time ever, voluntarily spoke to Santa, telling him her name, her siblings' names, and what she wanted. I was so impressed with her.
As we walked away, Lily asked if that Santa was the real Santa. I paused for a moment to consider my answer, because I didn't want to mess up the Christmas magic. I finally said that I though maybe he was a "helper" Santa, not the real Santa. Lily looked perplexed, so I decided to call in the big guns and asked Ella why she thought Santa had helpers. She thought for a minute and then said, "Well, it's a very busy time of year for Santa, and he can't be at the mall AND at the North Pole making toys. So he has helpers who come talk to the kids while he works." Lily bought it hook line and sinker. Phew.
I was also relieved to hear that Ella still believes in Santa. I know she's at that age where kids start figuring out the truth, whether they come to the realization on their own or they hear it from friends at school. Ella believes in it enough that she can rationalize the "helper" Santa at the mall. I'm glad we'll have complete Christmas magic for one more year.
The girls have both written their lists to Santa, and they're very funny. Lily's suffers from a lack of originality - she has asked for princess everything. She wants a princess bike helmet, a princess puzzle, a princess journal, a princess timer (whatever that is), and marbles. Ella has grander desires. She's asked for a new bike (which she's getting), new mixes for her Easy Bake oven, an iPod (which she is NOT getting), and marbles. They both played marbles with our neighbor, and now they want their own sets. I think those may be stocking presents.
They are both also getting rolls of tape in their stockings. It because a tradition three years ago after Ella opened the tape in her stocking, held it up in the air, and yelled "Santa brought me tape!" It was her favorite present of the year. I'll be so sad the Christmas that the girls don't think tape is a good present.
After picking out the dresses and getting a present for my sister and a pair of black dress shoes for Ella, we went to meet Santa Claus. Lily had been pestering me during the whole excursion about meeting Santa, so she was so happy when we finally headed that direction. When we got there, however, Lily hid behind me and peeked out at Santa, not saying a word. Ella, for the first time ever, voluntarily spoke to Santa, telling him her name, her siblings' names, and what she wanted. I was so impressed with her.
As we walked away, Lily asked if that Santa was the real Santa. I paused for a moment to consider my answer, because I didn't want to mess up the Christmas magic. I finally said that I though maybe he was a "helper" Santa, not the real Santa. Lily looked perplexed, so I decided to call in the big guns and asked Ella why she thought Santa had helpers. She thought for a minute and then said, "Well, it's a very busy time of year for Santa, and he can't be at the mall AND at the North Pole making toys. So he has helpers who come talk to the kids while he works." Lily bought it hook line and sinker. Phew.
I was also relieved to hear that Ella still believes in Santa. I know she's at that age where kids start figuring out the truth, whether they come to the realization on their own or they hear it from friends at school. Ella believes in it enough that she can rationalize the "helper" Santa at the mall. I'm glad we'll have complete Christmas magic for one more year.
The girls have both written their lists to Santa, and they're very funny. Lily's suffers from a lack of originality - she has asked for princess everything. She wants a princess bike helmet, a princess puzzle, a princess journal, a princess timer (whatever that is), and marbles. Ella has grander desires. She's asked for a new bike (which she's getting), new mixes for her Easy Bake oven, an iPod (which she is NOT getting), and marbles. They both played marbles with our neighbor, and now they want their own sets. I think those may be stocking presents.
They are both also getting rolls of tape in their stockings. It because a tradition three years ago after Ella opened the tape in her stocking, held it up in the air, and yelled "Santa brought me tape!" It was her favorite present of the year. I'll be so sad the Christmas that the girls don't think tape is a good present.
Monday, December 03, 2007
Wandering baby
Yesterday afternoon I left the kids outside with B, who was putting up Christmas lights, while I went inside to start dinner. About 15 minutes later, B opened the front door and dropped Campbell in the house.
It turns out B had turned his back on Campbell, who had taken off down the sidewalk. Gasp. Fortunately, he marched over to our neighbors' house and started banging on their front door. When our neighbor opened the door, perplexed by what was going on, Campbell barged right past her and headed toward the toys in the living room.
Earlier in the day, my mom had asked if I thought Campbell knew that friends lived next door, or if a house was a house was a house. I said that I didn't think he knew who lived where. Given Campbell's adventure, I'm thinking I may be wrong.
Whether he knew what he was doing or not, I am immensely grateful that he went to L's house, not some stranger's. And that he went next door, not across the street or down the block.
It turns out B had turned his back on Campbell, who had taken off down the sidewalk. Gasp. Fortunately, he marched over to our neighbors' house and started banging on their front door. When our neighbor opened the door, perplexed by what was going on, Campbell barged right past her and headed toward the toys in the living room.
Earlier in the day, my mom had asked if I thought Campbell knew that friends lived next door, or if a house was a house was a house. I said that I didn't think he knew who lived where. Given Campbell's adventure, I'm thinking I may be wrong.
Whether he knew what he was doing or not, I am immensely grateful that he went to L's house, not some stranger's. And that he went next door, not across the street or down the block.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
I can't breathe!
Nine years ago, I trained pretty seriously through the summer for the first time ever. My goal was to run the Chicago Marathon. I'd found a good group of running chicks; I was training with a coached group; I was feeling strong. All was good. Until the week of my birthday when I got sick. It started as a cold but then went into my lungs and wouldn't leave. Finally my doctor ordered a chest x-ray, but my lungs were clear. So he sent me to a pulmonologist, who ran me through a battery of tests and diagnosed me with adult-onset asthma. To this day, I blame the crummy summer air in Austin.
It took a while to get the medications balanced out, and my running suffered as a result. I didn't make it to Chicago, but I did pull things together enough to run the then Motorola Marathon here in Austin.
Most of the time, my asthma barely bothers me. Ten months of the year, I don't even have to take any asthma medication. But one or two times a year, something happens and my lungs tighten up completely.
Last week I had a bit of a cold - it lasted all of two days. But now I can't breathe because of asthma. I'm back on my medications and having to use my albuterol inhaler, which I hate because it makes me so jittery. If things don't improve soon, I'll have to call my doctor, who will put me on the dreaded prednisone for 10 days. Ninety-eight percent of the people who take prednisone feel better for it; all their aches and pains go away, their skin clears up. B loves being on prednisone because it makes all the aches in his neck from years of diving platform go away.
I, on the other hand, and one of the lucky two percent who have the opposite reaction. The stuff makes every joint in my body throb and ache, down to the knuckles in my toes. I don't sleep for the first five days of the treatment because of the pain in my joints and because the medicine winds me up so much, and I buzz around the house like a hummingbird on caffeine. I also tend to lose a lot of weight because of my buzzing activity.
The last time I was on prednisone, my doctor took pity on me and prescribed Ambien for me so that I could sleep. It turns out that I'm one of those people who does things she doesn't remember while on Ambien. I was in New York City with friends when I took it for the first time, and apparently I made a phone call to another friend back in Austin and had a long conversation with one of my traveling companions. I don't remember doing either thing.
Aside from feeling like I'm breathing through a straw and coughing all night, I'm frustrating by the hit my running has taken as a result of this. I ran Wednesday morning and felt great. But by that afternoon I was feeling the cold come on. I had hoped to run Friday afternoon, but Thursday night I started wheezing. I wanted to run this morning, but last night I was wheezing even worse. I knew better than to even try to run. I'd have ended up on the side of the road, doubled over, sucking on my inhaler.
I know that there's nothing more for me to do right now. I'm taking my medications and running the humidifier at night. Beyond that, I have to wait it out for a few days - and cross my fingers that I don't have to take prednisone.
It took a while to get the medications balanced out, and my running suffered as a result. I didn't make it to Chicago, but I did pull things together enough to run the then Motorola Marathon here in Austin.
Most of the time, my asthma barely bothers me. Ten months of the year, I don't even have to take any asthma medication. But one or two times a year, something happens and my lungs tighten up completely.
Last week I had a bit of a cold - it lasted all of two days. But now I can't breathe because of asthma. I'm back on my medications and having to use my albuterol inhaler, which I hate because it makes me so jittery. If things don't improve soon, I'll have to call my doctor, who will put me on the dreaded prednisone for 10 days. Ninety-eight percent of the people who take prednisone feel better for it; all their aches and pains go away, their skin clears up. B loves being on prednisone because it makes all the aches in his neck from years of diving platform go away.
I, on the other hand, and one of the lucky two percent who have the opposite reaction. The stuff makes every joint in my body throb and ache, down to the knuckles in my toes. I don't sleep for the first five days of the treatment because of the pain in my joints and because the medicine winds me up so much, and I buzz around the house like a hummingbird on caffeine. I also tend to lose a lot of weight because of my buzzing activity.
The last time I was on prednisone, my doctor took pity on me and prescribed Ambien for me so that I could sleep. It turns out that I'm one of those people who does things she doesn't remember while on Ambien. I was in New York City with friends when I took it for the first time, and apparently I made a phone call to another friend back in Austin and had a long conversation with one of my traveling companions. I don't remember doing either thing.
Aside from feeling like I'm breathing through a straw and coughing all night, I'm frustrating by the hit my running has taken as a result of this. I ran Wednesday morning and felt great. But by that afternoon I was feeling the cold come on. I had hoped to run Friday afternoon, but Thursday night I started wheezing. I wanted to run this morning, but last night I was wheezing even worse. I knew better than to even try to run. I'd have ended up on the side of the road, doubled over, sucking on my inhaler.
I know that there's nothing more for me to do right now. I'm taking my medications and running the humidifier at night. Beyond that, I have to wait it out for a few days - and cross my fingers that I don't have to take prednisone.
Friday, November 30, 2007
37 posts in 30 days
I did it! I made it through NaBloPoMo, with posts to spare. I am so proud of myself for sticking with it.
And now for something completely different.
I spent an hour this morning at Ella's school helping the librarian and two other volunteers set up for the Scholastic Book Fair, and it brought back some wonderful memories of 3rd grade - actually, this is pretty much the only good memory from that year of school - when, for the first time, I went to a school that had a book fair.
We had just moved to Sarasota, Florida from Albany, New York, by way of Westfield, Massachussetts, where we lived for 18 months. I was a bit lost in my new school and missing my friends and family up north pretty badly. I didn't like the school I was in or the teacher I had. I had gone to a combination of private and Montessori-like schools up north, and I didn't deal well with the new public school I attended in Florida for one year before moving on to magical Pine View (Which at that time was a ramshackle collection of portable classrooms, with no cafeteria or gymnasium. We called it Camp Pine View.).
Anyway, fairly soon after I started there, the school had a book fair, and I just loved it. I love books, pure and simple, so getting to shop for books at school and put together a wish list for my parents was such a treat. I don't remember what books I picked out, but I do remember the one my mom bought for me - Strawberry Girl by Lois Lensky. It was an appropriate book for me because it was about a little girl living in the pine scrub area of Central Florida on her family's strawberry farm. Florida was such an alien place to me and reading about it helped me to adjust. The little girl played in palmetto bushes, just like we had behind our house. And she dug in the sandy soil just like I did when playing outside. That book made a new and scary place seem less scary.
Behold the power of literature!
So this morning I looked around at the books being set out and wondered which books Ella would pick. She's been banned from including anything related to Pokemon and High School Musical on her wish list. I would love for Ella to find that one book that reaches her the way Strawberry Girl did me. I'm going back in next week to volunteer. I'll take some time then to look more closely at the books to see if I can pick a magical book for her.
And now for something completely different.
I spent an hour this morning at Ella's school helping the librarian and two other volunteers set up for the Scholastic Book Fair, and it brought back some wonderful memories of 3rd grade - actually, this is pretty much the only good memory from that year of school - when, for the first time, I went to a school that had a book fair.
We had just moved to Sarasota, Florida from Albany, New York, by way of Westfield, Massachussetts, where we lived for 18 months. I was a bit lost in my new school and missing my friends and family up north pretty badly. I didn't like the school I was in or the teacher I had. I had gone to a combination of private and Montessori-like schools up north, and I didn't deal well with the new public school I attended in Florida for one year before moving on to magical Pine View (Which at that time was a ramshackle collection of portable classrooms, with no cafeteria or gymnasium. We called it Camp Pine View.).
Anyway, fairly soon after I started there, the school had a book fair, and I just loved it. I love books, pure and simple, so getting to shop for books at school and put together a wish list for my parents was such a treat. I don't remember what books I picked out, but I do remember the one my mom bought for me - Strawberry Girl by Lois Lensky. It was an appropriate book for me because it was about a little girl living in the pine scrub area of Central Florida on her family's strawberry farm. Florida was such an alien place to me and reading about it helped me to adjust. The little girl played in palmetto bushes, just like we had behind our house. And she dug in the sandy soil just like I did when playing outside. That book made a new and scary place seem less scary.
Behold the power of literature!
So this morning I looked around at the books being set out and wondered which books Ella would pick. She's been banned from including anything related to Pokemon and High School Musical on her wish list. I would love for Ella to find that one book that reaches her the way Strawberry Girl did me. I'm going back in next week to volunteer. I'll take some time then to look more closely at the books to see if I can pick a magical book for her.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
I should have waited 10 minutes
I did a meme as my last post because I didn't have anything to write about. It turns out I should have waited 10 minutes, because my darling daughters put on a little show that had me laughing before I confined them to separate bedrooms for time out.
To set the scene - Ella is in the living room taking off her tights and her turtleneck because she's hot. To do this, she also had to take off her dress.
Lily: I see London, I see France, I see Ella's underpants!
Ella: Lily, stop singing that. It's embarassing.
Lily: I see London, I see France, I see Ella's underpants!
Ella: Lily! I said STOP SINGING THAT!
Lily: I see London, I see France, I see Ella's underpants!
Ella: MOOOOOMMMM!! I've told Lily to stop singing that because she's embarassing me.
Me: Ella, if you don't want to be embarassed, you could always go in your bedroom to do that instead of the living room.
Ella: But I don't want to go in my room.
Me: Then deal with it.
Lily: I see London, I see Fr-owwwwww. Ella kicked me!
Me: Ella go in Campbell's room. Lily, go in your room. You're fighting too much, so you need to be apart from each other until dinner.
Ella and Lily (in harmony): But we'll be looonnneeellllyyy.
I heartlessly sent them on to separate quarters, where they both wailed about the injustice of the world.
I have an aunt who is a middle child, and she worries a great deal about Lily's being the middle child. Based on how quickly Lily can wind Ella up like this, I don't think I need to worry about her being lost in the shuffle.
To set the scene - Ella is in the living room taking off her tights and her turtleneck because she's hot. To do this, she also had to take off her dress.
Lily: I see London, I see France, I see Ella's underpants!
Ella: Lily, stop singing that. It's embarassing.
Lily: I see London, I see France, I see Ella's underpants!
Ella: Lily! I said STOP SINGING THAT!
Lily: I see London, I see France, I see Ella's underpants!
Ella: MOOOOOMMMM!! I've told Lily to stop singing that because she's embarassing me.
Me: Ella, if you don't want to be embarassed, you could always go in your bedroom to do that instead of the living room.
Ella: But I don't want to go in my room.
Me: Then deal with it.
Lily: I see London, I see Fr-owwwwww. Ella kicked me!
Me: Ella go in Campbell's room. Lily, go in your room. You're fighting too much, so you need to be apart from each other until dinner.
Ella and Lily (in harmony): But we'll be looonnneeellllyyy.
I heartlessly sent them on to separate quarters, where they both wailed about the injustice of the world.
I have an aunt who is a middle child, and she worries a great deal about Lily's being the middle child. Based on how quickly Lily can wind Ella up like this, I don't think I need to worry about her being lost in the shuffle.
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