From the Mouthes of Babes...

N: (making up her own verses to "Be Careful Little Eyes" in the back seat of the car today)
"Oh be careful little toes when you tiptoe. Oh be careful little toes when you tiptoe. For the Father up above is working down in love so be careful little toes when you tiptoe!"

N: Beholdy comes! Riding on the clouds, shining like the sun, at the trumpet call. So, lift your voice. Hear and you'll believe. High on Zion's Hills I'll Va-Ca-tion!"

(For those who don't know, the actual lyrics are "Lift your voice, it's the Year of Jubilee. Out of Zion's Hill, salvation comes!")
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N: ("Reading" the model name of the truck pulled up beside us at a red light)
"S-I-L-V-E-R-A-D-O (pauses as if sounding it out to herself)....Car!"
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Tonight, Jason was holding Norah's hands and letting her climb up his legs to flip backwards. What was her sing-songy exclamation each time she performed this impressive feat?
N: "Ta-Da! I'm famous!"
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Norah ambushed Jason and I while we were cuddling and immediately demanded to be center of her daddy's attention. When her demands weren't met, she resorted to whipping out her first 5-syllable word (at least that we can recall)
N: "Daddy, I want you to snuggle with ME!"
J: (continues jokingly cuddling with mommy to make Norah jealous)
N: "Daddy, I want you to snuggle with me, but you are not cooperating."
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Not to be left out, here are some of my favorite "Eli-isms" of late:

"Ah duh"- Translation: "All Done". Spoken after each meal.

"Tuh-kuh-buh"- Translation: "Take a bath?" Spoken, without fail, the instant he's finished with his evening meal. This kid lives and breathes by his schedule.

"Bite"- No translation required. He doesn't mess around when food is involved and annunciates very precisely (especially on the "t" in bite)

"Goot" (Rhymes with "Foot")- Translation: "That bite you shared with me was out of this world!"

"Nigh Nigh"- Translation: "Please, just put me in my bed so I can go to sleep."

"Bye Bye" or "G'bah"- Translation: "See you later!"

"Cup-cuh"- Translation: "Cupcake". Also, "Cookie". Always said with an enthusiastic, expectant look in his eye.

No More Moldy Bread for Eli

Disclaimer: Gruesome photos to follow. There is a happy ending, but if you're squeamish, take a hike. (Just don't accuse me of posting without pictures again :)

We had the misfortune/fortune (dependent on whether your a glass half full or half empty kind of person) of discovering that Eli, like his father, is pretty allergic to Penicillin. (And no, he didn't get exposed to it by moldy bread, as the title implies. If we ever found any moldy bread growing up, my dad would always say, "No big deal, just a little penicillin", so that's just what I always think of when I hear the word)
At any rate, it all started with a little, rash on his torso. It really resembled ant bites, but since I couldn't' find any ants in his bed (he woke up with the rash), I decided to ask a pharmacist. (Couldn't get into the doctor's office that day, and didn't want to wait through 4 hours of urgent care like the last time). The pharmacist asked if E was taking any antibiotics, and after I fessed up to his being on day 9 (of 10, I should add) of Amoxicillin, he hypothesized that E was reacting to his meds. I wasn't worried. It didn't seem to be a big deal. He wasn't itching or running fever, and seemed to be normal, other than the rash, so I didn't sweat it.
The next day, it had spread a lot! I didn't feel as comfortable as I had before, so we went ahead and took him into Urgent Care. The doctor walked in the room, took one look at him, and declared that he had a "more convincing penicillin allergy reaction than some textbooks photos" he'd seen. He said there wasn't much we could do for him, other than Benadryl to control the itching (which still hadn't started).

The next few days, it got progressively worse, and was accompanied by a fever which responded well to Tylenol and Ibuprofen (it would go back to around 102 in between doses)
Around day 4, he started itching. The Benadryl helped some, but seemed to stop working a couple hours before I was allowed to give him more, so I'd do my best to distract him. (If he wasn't thinking about it, it seemed to bother him less than if I, say, put him in his bed and left him to sulk). We spent many a late night (2-4am) waiting out those Benadryl doses. Look at how thick those welts are around the leg hole of his diaper. Poor baby!

He was a real trooper. I know I couldn't have handled it as well as he did. He never really cried, except when he was really tired and unable to sleep for itching (between Benadryl doses)











Days 5-6 were especially bad around his eyes. He didn't even look like himself. Thankfully, he never lost his appetite.













Finally, Day 8 came...Eli discovered Norah's magic wand and....









Voila! No more rash! (That's just strawberry jam around his mouth) So, from now on, no more penicillin for the boy!

The One with the Regurgitated Raisin

For those of you who don't read picture-less posts, just walk on by. The fact of the matter is, I haven't been so great at photo documentation of late (unless you want to see the awesome full-body rash Eli has developed as an allergic reaction to his antibiotics), so if you want to wait around until the next time I feel like uploading pictures, I'll see you then. In the mean time, I did have one story I needed to record that should pretty well seal the deal that I wont be voted Mother of the Year, at least for 2009.

Last Monday afternoon I stopped into Old Navy and tried a couple of things on. Naturally, since I had both kids in tow, I used the "big daddy dressing room" to accommodate the shopping cart I was wheeling them in. While changing clothes, my cell phone rang and it was my newlywed sister, who lives out of town and who I greatly look forward to talking to, so I took the call, in spite of the lack of privacy. Meanwhile, Norah decided that she wanted to sit on the bench in the dressing room, as opposed to the cart. I complied (with the agreement that she wouldn't stray from the bench), in hopes of keeping her quiet long enough to have conversation with Amanda.

The next thing I know, Norah is off of the bench, asking me if she can eat a raisin she's discovered on the dressing room floor. I immediately give her my full attention and shriek "NO! Absolutely NOT!", resulting in a look of wide-eyed shock and bewilderment from my daughter that could only mean that she had already commenced consumption of said raisin. My fears were confirmed as she proceeded to spit the half-eaten, offending raisin back onto the dressing room floor next a couple of crushed goldfish crackers (also not ours), clearly in hopes that this would purge the wrong-doing. All I could think of was how many times I've watched kids spit things out of their mouths and onto the floor...and who was to say this was the first time THIS raisin had been regurgitated. Germs! Germs! How do you disinfect your child's mouth in situations such as these!? And seriously what was Norah thinking? She KNOWS better than to eat random trash on the floor, and at a public place with nasty, concrete floors where people drop their drawers, no less! Ok, I have to stop...I'm grossing myself out again. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts.

It ate at me. All day long in the back of my mind I wondered what childhood disease we could look forward to contracting in the weeks to come thanks to the "second-hand raisin incident". Fast forward to dinner that night. I went out with my sister-in-law, Paige, and our good friend, Katy. During the course of our conversation, Katy mentions that she had been to Old Navy earlier that day and that she had tried on some clothes, and like me, had received a cell phone call. She then proceeded to tell me that her daughter was begging for a snack which she happily gave her to keep her at bay while she finished her call. I excitedly inturrupted her at this point, to ask which stall she had been in...
K: "The big one".
A: "And the snack? It wasn't, by chance raisins and gold fish crackers, was it? And did you happen to notice if she dropped any on the floor?"
K: (mildly amused by my apparent ESP): Ummm...yeah, actually, it was, and she did.

Granted, who knows how many people stepped on those raisins between Katy's daughter's dropping them, and Norah's decision to wolf them down, but I was still mildly relieved to know from whose hand they fell.

What are the odds that this happen in the first place AND then that we meet for dinner the same night AND happen to discuss it? Crazy. Still disgusting, but crazy, nonetheless. Moral of the story? Don't take calls in the dressing room.

The Great Pretenders

As I mentioned in my last post, Norah's play is heavily pretend-oriented these days, and Eli (whether he likes it or not...most of the time, he does) often gets taken on her little imaginary trips.

Last week, we had a picnic in the backyard because the weather was warm and gorgeous. However, feeding my kids a picnic lunch, is a lot like feeding a stray cat...they're gonna want more tomorrow. Now, when the weather cooperates, this really isn't a problem at all, because I love eating lunch outside as much as the kids do. Unfortunately, the next day, it was back to freezing cold outside, so picnic-conducive weather, it was not. I was pretty proud of N for her ingenuity when I explained to her that it was too cold for a picnic outside.

Norah's also gotten big into playing dress up. However, sometimes, she looks WAY too good (in her humble opinion) to stay at home...so we have to go visit Daddy and the guys at his work so she can show off her outfit. Today, she was wearing a tutu, leotard, tights, green frog ballerina slippers, and her "crown jewels". I love the way Jason is looking at her in this picture, especially coupled with the way she is looking at him. She knows she is the apple of his eye, and he doesn't try to deny it.

Incidentally, I have to mention that the dog in the photo belongs to our friends, the Averys (who Jason works for/with). Her name is Maggie, and she is a frequent visitor to Robinson County. Whenever her first family goes out of town, she comes to stay in our backyard, prompting Norah to refer to her as "My dog, Maggie". Every day when I take Jason his lunch at work, in addition to getting a kiss from her Daddy, Norah asks Maggie for a kiss. (On her hand...but still...ick...I just don't see the draw).

Jason and I have even found a way to spin Maggie's ownership confusion in our favor. When Norah has asked about getting a pet (which Jason and I are both not ready to commit to now, or anytime in the near future, if ever), we remind her about "her dog, Maggie"...and she usually responds with, "Oh yeah!" It's the perfect scenario. She only comes once in a while on the weekends (or for the occassional week, at most, if the Averys take a vacation), so the kids get their dog fix, but we don't have the commitment of getting a dog of our own. (Not to mention, Maggie's great with the kids, doesn't dig, and is very low maintenance!) Time sharing pets...who knew it could have such potential for greatness!

From the Mouthes of Babes...

It seems like Norah's been getting more press time lately, so today's obligatory pictures are of Eli and his spiffy new haircut (Jason keeps referring to him as "Skippy").

The kids have been playing really well together. Norah especially likes to include Eli in her imaginary play, but he isn't always on the same page with her. Yesterday, she was pretending to be Sleeping Beauty behind the recliner in our living room. Eli started crawling away from her pushing a toy car, in his own little world.

N: Prince Phillip, come back! Buddy! You have to save me!

Meanwhile, Eli continues on his merry way into the kitchen where I was cooking dinner. Norah stomps in behind him.

N: Eli, you were supposed to be Prince Phillip. I wanted you to kiss me. But I still love you and I'm still your friend.

Norah's Sunday School Teacher told me about a funny encounter she'd had with Norah...


Miss Gerry: Norah, I'm wearing red for Valentine's Day and I think you are too.

N: No, I'm not. I'm three.

She's Not Sleepy

She's not your daughter, so this picture may hold no sway over you. However, for me, this image has the ability to reduce me to tears...if I were in the right mood.

Seriously, veteran parents, do you ever reach a point where you are immune to that warm and fuzzy feeling of melancholy pride, happiness, and awe that they're growing so fast that sweeps over you when you find your child sleeping peacefully, innocent, and perfect?



But that wasn't the whole picture. I had to zoom out a little more to reveal the punchline. On this particular night, she had been playing in her room, reading books to herself LONG after lights' out. (She has a large number of her books memorized and treats herself to "post-bedtime story bedtime stories", complete with voices for each character, on a regular basis) Seriously, Jason and I were wondering if she was EVER going to fall asleep. And then suddenly, the house was quiet. I stalked back to her room and found her peacefully sleeping, with this book close at hand. (The entire title, if you're not familiar with it is, "I' Am Not Sleepy and I Will Not Go to Bed"....how's that for irony?)

A Hunting We Will Go

I officially turned "almost thirty" on January 15th. And, honestly, it wasn't bad. I had a great birthday! Grant and Paige babysat N & E so Jason and I could have a date night. We wound up at Applebee's for dinner (Roadhouse was our first stop, but it was crazy crowded, so we decided to go "off the beaten path"), then we went browsing at Target. (Does anyone else do this on date nights?) We frequently find ourselves at Walmart/Target on date nights. Maybe because they stay open late, or maybe because it is just SO nice to shop sans kids!

In celebration of my almost thirty-dom, seven of my girlfriends took me on a geocaching adventure one frigid, Saturday morning. (I know there are only 5 other girsl in the picture, but Katy had to leave early and Paige was holding the camera). The girls even chipped in and got me my own GPS, so I can now geocache with the family whenever I want! (And yes, we already have put it to good use) Thanks, girls, for braving the cold to indulge me. I am so blessed to have such sweet, thoughtful friends in my life!

For those clueless on the concept of geocaching, here's a quick lesson. First off, it's pronounced Geo-CASHing. It is basically a world-wide GPS-led "treasure" hunt. You can log onto the official geocaching website and enter in any zip code in the world. (I recommend using your own, because knowing the coordinates for caches in Singapore isn't going to help any of us, with the exception of Camille). After entering in your zip code, a list of available caches in your area will appear. Selecting a cache from the list will give you more details, including GPS coordinates and clues for locating the cache.

Is there cash in the cache? Not hardly. Almost all caches contain a log to sign (this is actually a lot cooler than it sounds because when you find a particularly difficult cache, it is neat to see how many people have found it before you...most of the ones we located had been found 50+ times!) Caches also often contain little trinkets for trading. This makes it a lot of fun for taking kiddos along. The rules of cache trading are that if you take something from a cache (say, a lucky rabbit's foot), you must leave something of equal or greater value (maybe a Veggietales yoyo?). Some people even leave small gift cards to their favorite places to eat or shop (which, in a way, is kind of like cash, right?)

When caching, you have to be a little sneaky and watch out for "Muggles". In geocaching, "muggle" is a term referring to non-geocaching bystanders (as opposed to it's "non magical person" meaning from the "Harry Potter" series the term was borrowed from). You don't want to openly approach or look for a cache if anyone else is watching because it may draw their attention and they may go behind you and find the cache and decide to trash it or hide it elsewhere to mess with future cachers.

Some caches are multi-clue/location hunts. Some lead you to places of historical significance. Others lead you to a pretty spot, or a point of interest. Still, others are just hidden in someone's favorite place, or in a clever hiding spot. Anyone can hide a cache, but there are rules to adhere to (also available on geocaching.com). I already have a few spots in mind for our first Robinson County hidden caches.

The coolest cache I found with the girls was hidden in a wooded area (caches are most often hidden on public property, like parks, so wooded locations are common). The clue was "Not a knot". The cache, itself, was a 35mm film canister that had been camo taped. It was then lodged into a small hole about 6 feet up the trunk of an oak tree, so it looked like a knothole. It took FOREVER to find it, but it was worth the wait when we saw what a clever spot it was in.

Thanks to blog reader Morgan Mann for suggesting geocaching to me about a year ago (sorry I'm only just now getting into it, but in my defense, a GPS has been on my "wish list" ever since I first learned about it). I definitely think this will be an activity our family will enjoy together for years to come. I can even forsee the possibility of a geocaching kid's birthday party or two in our future!

Geocaching is a great excuse to get outside, explore your area (or even other places you're visiting), and best of all, is good, clean fun for the family. (Not to metion, it's a great feeling to be the one who spots the cache.) I look forward to making many more family memories caching in the years to come.

How bout you, any other closet cachers out there? I know Sheridan and her family have recently given it a go. I'd love to find out if anyone else has discovered this little-known free, family pastime. And if not, I highly recommend you try it!