The Week of Inconveniences

Micah's been going through a new phase where he either forgets what we've told him to do, or outright refuses to do it. He's also started deliberately....doing....things....as....slowly....as....possible. It's maddening, especially when you're trying to get out the door in the morning.

Aerin has been learning several new words. This week she started saying "mommy" which I'm pretty sure is the only reason we decided to keep her. She's been incredibly irritable and whiny, to the point I had the doctor check for an ear infection on Wednesday at her 18-month checkup. We think maybe she's starting on her two-year molars? Anyway, she's totally unpredictable. One minute she's laughing, the next she's crying. Bipolar baby is bipolar.

Tuesday night our downstairs heater blew a fuse. Fortunately, it was fairly warm and we didn't freeze. But that meant someone had to be home the next day to meet the repair guy, because we didn't already have enough stuff scheduled for Wednesday.

Wednesday morning, my stress level hit maximum and I lost my shit with everyone in the family and screamed at each one in turn. It was definitely one of my finer parenting moments.

Thursday, the daycare called to tell me that Aerin has pinkeye again.  I posted about it on Facebook, and a few minutes later, my sister (who had watched Aerin for me the evening before) texted me. I was still in full-on YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME mode.



Thursday was also the last day of one of my favorite teachers at the daycare. She took care of Micah when he was a baby and has also taken care of Aerin. Her husband retired on December 30 and they'd planned to move back to Louisiana this weekend to be with her family and be closer to their children. I used to go every day at lunch to nurse, and she and I would chat while I was there. It's been a while since I've been over just to hang out, so on Wednesday I bought the teachers in Aerin's room lunch and stuck around to eat with them and catch up a bit. Yesterday, as I was picking Aerin up to take her BACK to the doctor, I gave the teacher our gift and told her goodbye, and there were tears. I'll miss her an awful lot.

This morning was actually a perfect morning.  Todd had hockey, but everything just went so well and the kids were ready to go by 7:45.  I left them playing happily upstairs while I went to load the car and...wait...where are my keys?

Turns out, my keys were in Todd's car.  Which was in Huntsville, where he had just sat down to have a nice breakfast with some friends.  So he had to ditch them and drive the 30-minute trip back to our house, just so I could get Micah to his class on time.

I was supposed to get a spare key made today, but realized upon arriving at the daycare that my phone and wallet were still in the diaper bag at home.  So I decided that, really, this week should just be scrapped before something bad happened.  And I gave up.

The end.

Perfect!

They climbed in here all by themselves. When I saw them, I did what any loving parent would do.

I locked the cage door and told my husband we were going out for dinner without the kids.

Christmasy Things

There was the counting down...



...and the neighborhood luminaries.



We decorated things...







...and people.





There was outdoor ice skating. In Alabama.





We had family come to visit, some as late as Christmas Eve...



...and we made cookies for Santa.



Reindeer food was made and scattered in the yard, Christmas movies were watched, cookies were put out, and Christmas stories were read.



Then two tired children were put to bed so the equally tired parents, grandparents, and great-grandparent could assemble the everliving shit out of some seriously complicated toys.



Then Santa stopped by and left a bunch of really cool things.



Seven hours later, the adults got tired of waiting for the kids and went upstairs to wake them up to see what Santa had brought.



(As soon as Micah saw the trains, he was done. Turns out Santa could've stopped with those, and Micah would have been just fine, thank you.)



(Aerin was equally enamored of her cat. It doesn't try to bite or growl when she squishes it.)



Then many toys were played with, many presents were opened, and much fun was had.





And that was December!

Hey, Laura!

It's finally cold enough in Alabama for your beautiful sweaters!

(And also for funny hats.)

A long night

Friday there was the dreaded contagion sign posted on the door of Aerin’s classroom.  “A child is this room has been diagnosed with Conjunctivitis (pinkeye).”  Omnes relinquite spes, o vos intrantes.

Sunday at lunch, after the kids had been in the church nursery happily exchanging germs for half the morning, I noticed Aerin’s right eye was bright red. Whatever good I got from that morning’s thorough churchin’ was immediately undone by the invective that filled my head. I swallowed a couple youhavegototbefuckingkiddingmes and instead leaned across the table to Todd.

“You want the bad news, or the bad news?  Because THERE IS NO GOOD NEWS.”

Back home, we scrounged up an old bottle of Vigamox, dating from our last flirtation with pinkeye, that isn’t set to expire until 2013.  With the dosage instruction missing, we simply donned our Tyveks, poured half of it into her eye, and made the sign of the cross.

That night, a storm rolled through.  Not a bad one, as these things go in Alabama, but enough that it woke Micah, who made a prompt appearance at my bedside immediately following the first clap of thunder.  It was 3AM.  He solemnly and tremulously informed me that there were “pieces of thunder and wightening aww around my room,” and climbed over to the space between me and Todd where he squirmed and kicked for the next half hour.  He was followed shortly by all three cats, who have recently become skittish of storms.  I suppose being left to die in a tornado twice in the past year was too much for them.

At 3:45 the weather radio in our bedroom blared to life, announcing that everyone in South Huntsville was probably going die.  Or something.  I’m not sure, because the small boy to my left and the three cats to my right all jumped out of their skins at the first tone and I missed the details of the announcement as Micah’s arms were wrapped around my head in a starfish-like paroxysm of terror.

At 4 AM, the storm quieted down.  I asked Micah if he was ready to head back to his bed.  He allowed that he was and together we made our way upstairs, where I lovingly tucked him into his bed and tracked down all his stuffed animals.  Then I gratefully crawled back into my own warm bed.

At 4:30, just as I was drifting back to sleep, Todd rolled over and viciously elbowed me in the face, splitting my lip and jolting me awake.  He claims to remember nothing of it and swears it must have been an accident.

At 5 AM, I opened my eyes to see Micah’s face approximately an inch from mine.  “GAHAHHhhhello baby, what’s wrong?”  It was lightning again, you see.

At 5:30 and I cold-heartedly sent him away to make the long, dark trek upstairs to his cold, lonely room alone and turned off my alarm.

At 7:45 Aerin woke us up, yelling at Micah, who had gone into her room, presumably because both his parents were comatose and could not be brought back to consciousness.