Walter and I were in the process of moving a dresser to a different room and we set it down so that I could take break,
"Oh, wait a minute..." (as he hopped on the dresser and attempted to lie as flat as possible)
"What are you doing?"
"I'm planking."
"I just heard about planking! My friend was talking about how her daughter is doing it in weird places and she doesn't know what to think of it."
"Sierra, planking was cool like two years ago."
"Whatever."
If you know my husband, you know that planking (of any sort) is very out of character for him. I wish I had picture.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Goodbye, Favorite Jeans
Today I was cleaning out my closet, finally getting rid of the pile of clothing that I'm so sure I'm going to wear one day, when in reality, I haven't touched them for two years so it's just not going to happen. During this process, I found my second favorite pair of jeans. Now, you are well aware, no matter what your size is, it's hard to find that perfect pair of pants that hugs all of curves in just the right places. Okay, whatever, I don't have any curves, so, that perfect pair of pants that stays up and makes it look like I actually have a butt.
I had to get rid of my first favorite pair last year. They were getting holes in all the wrong places, and I'd been wearing them since high school, so they had a long life. My second favorite pair, has quite the story:
I found them about four years ago, at the Gap. Perfect size, perfect length, expensive, but whatever, they fit. Well, after wearing them for a few months, they started getting hole and I was very mad about this. I went to the Gap and told them that this was unacceptable. They agreed to replace my jeans but didn't have that same exact wash/style. I agreed when they assured me that the new pair would be basically the same. The only catch, I had to hand over my holey jeans. I reluctantly gave them my jeans, hoping that the new pair would be as similar as they promised. As you can probably guess, they weren't. And I was terribly disappointed. Meanwhile, I'd been sharing my sad jean story with anyone who would listen, or at least pretend to listen. There may have even been tears involved. I couldn't forget this amazing pair of pants, so I went back to the Gap and asked them for my holey pants back. They thought I was crazy, and I'm laughing thinking about. But I told them the whole story, and how I really just wanted my pants back even though they had holes in them. Seeing my distress over this situation, one of the sales ladies told me that she wasn't supposed to say anything, but my mom came in and bought back my jeans (with the holes) and was going to give them to me for Christmas.
That made me super excited, and I couldn't wait to open presents. Christmas came, and obviously the whole time all I wanted was to open a package and see my jeans, but they weren't there! All of the presents were opened and I still hadn't found my jeans! What kind of cruel joke was this? I was very disappointed, and later that night asked my mom where my jeans were because I was told I was going to get them back for Christmas. She said she'd changed her mind and decided to get something else for me. What? This couldn't be happening? I'd waited so long to reunite with my perfect pair of pants! Thankfully, she still had them, and gave them to me anyway, and I was one very happy person. Over the next few months, they got about five more holes in them, and I patched up each one, thinking I was really cool wearing my patchwork pants. Then, after one too many holes in the butt, I had to stop wearing them. I think Walter was probably glad. I got pregnant with Isaac anyway, so it was time for them to retire. Obviously, I saved them, and excitedly put them on today, and Isabella burst out laughing and told me they were the funniest pants she'd ever seen.
Goodbye, Best Jeans Ever (despite the fact that you had so many holes which let's admit, only added to your charm).
p.s. please don't judge me for being so unnecessarily attached to a pair of pants.
I had to get rid of my first favorite pair last year. They were getting holes in all the wrong places, and I'd been wearing them since high school, so they had a long life. My second favorite pair, has quite the story:
I found them about four years ago, at the Gap. Perfect size, perfect length, expensive, but whatever, they fit. Well, after wearing them for a few months, they started getting hole and I was very mad about this. I went to the Gap and told them that this was unacceptable. They agreed to replace my jeans but didn't have that same exact wash/style. I agreed when they assured me that the new pair would be basically the same. The only catch, I had to hand over my holey jeans. I reluctantly gave them my jeans, hoping that the new pair would be as similar as they promised. As you can probably guess, they weren't. And I was terribly disappointed. Meanwhile, I'd been sharing my sad jean story with anyone who would listen, or at least pretend to listen. There may have even been tears involved. I couldn't forget this amazing pair of pants, so I went back to the Gap and asked them for my holey pants back. They thought I was crazy, and I'm laughing thinking about. But I told them the whole story, and how I really just wanted my pants back even though they had holes in them. Seeing my distress over this situation, one of the sales ladies told me that she wasn't supposed to say anything, but my mom came in and bought back my jeans (with the holes) and was going to give them to me for Christmas.
That made me super excited, and I couldn't wait to open presents. Christmas came, and obviously the whole time all I wanted was to open a package and see my jeans, but they weren't there! All of the presents were opened and I still hadn't found my jeans! What kind of cruel joke was this? I was very disappointed, and later that night asked my mom where my jeans were because I was told I was going to get them back for Christmas. She said she'd changed her mind and decided to get something else for me. What? This couldn't be happening? I'd waited so long to reunite with my perfect pair of pants! Thankfully, she still had them, and gave them to me anyway, and I was one very happy person. Over the next few months, they got about five more holes in them, and I patched up each one, thinking I was really cool wearing my patchwork pants. Then, after one too many holes in the butt, I had to stop wearing them. I think Walter was probably glad. I got pregnant with Isaac anyway, so it was time for them to retire. Obviously, I saved them, and excitedly put them on today, and Isabella burst out laughing and told me they were the funniest pants she'd ever seen.
p.s. please don't judge me for being so unnecessarily attached to a pair of pants.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Babies are a lot of work.
About a year ago I reconnected with my best friend from middle school and the beginning of high school. Thanks to facebook, we were able to get in touch and few months later met for coffee. It was great, and really fun to share how our lives have changed and the people we've become. By the way, I used to despise facebook, and email, for that matter. I thought it was ruining society as we know it/knew it, and swore I would never join this world of the internet. Well, so much for that. Now I am the antithesis of my former self. I check facebook and email multiple times each day, and for goodness sake, I write a blog!
All of that to say, my friend recently had her first baby. Recently as in, her baby is only two weeks old. If you've ever had a baby, you are well aware that those first two weeks are rough (well, the first six weeks, in my opinion). As my friend shared, "nothing could have prepared me mentally for this." It's true. The overwhelming need to love and protect this little life, the desire for sleep, the feeding and changing of clothes and diapers, the care of yourself (which often comes in last place). And on top of all of that you have to stay sane!
It took me a while to really fall in love with each of my kids are they were born. Sure, I loved them and there's no doubt I would have done anything for them, but that moment of boding that everyone talks about, didn't happen for a few weeks. At the time I felt really guilty about that. Everyone talks about love at first sight, and this amazing moment where your baby is put on your chest and poof you're bonded together. I don't know, maybe I couldn't get past the fact that I'd just pushed for three hours with no drugs. Yeah, that may have been it. I'm just kidding. The whole natural birth experience was what I'd wanted. I'm a small person, void of "birthing hips", and I wanted to prove to the world that I could do it. I did. So there. Isaac was a different story. I was depressed, and wanted him out, and didn't really care how it happened, so I opted for the epidural. Epidurals make birth so boring! Anyway, when I was signing the discharge papers after Isabella was born and the nurse said, "Now she's yours for the next eighteen plus years!" I started sobbing. What had I gotten myself into and why were they letting me leave with this baby? It all worked out, and I've kept her alive this long, so I think we're doing okay.
With Isaac, I felt fairly detached at first. He was unexpectedly born with a birth defect (metopic craniosynostosis). For weeks before his birth I'd been telling people that something was going to be wrong when he was born, I was sure of it. Mother's intuition, I guess. Just when we started bonding with him, it was time for his big surgery. His appearance was so changed after his surgery, that I felt I had to re-bond with him. After his bandage was removed, I cried because I was happy that the surgery went well, but also because my child looked so different.
If you're reading this, and you're a new mom, it gets better! I promise! Just hold your baby and snuggle, and when people come over, just tell them to wash the dishes and leave you and the baby alone. You'll never get those moments back. Even though I certainly don't want another baby (and I obviously don't mind admitting that), it's so fun to look back at pictures of when my kids were born and remember how tiny they were. Especially when Isabella gets mad at me for winning Candy Land, and stomps off to her room, I can think back to how to cute and innocent she used to be. She's still cute, of course, but now she tells me she doesn't like what I'm wearing, and has to point out the pimples on my face. Oh how things change.
All of that to say, my friend recently had her first baby. Recently as in, her baby is only two weeks old. If you've ever had a baby, you are well aware that those first two weeks are rough (well, the first six weeks, in my opinion). As my friend shared, "nothing could have prepared me mentally for this." It's true. The overwhelming need to love and protect this little life, the desire for sleep, the feeding and changing of clothes and diapers, the care of yourself (which often comes in last place). And on top of all of that you have to stay sane!
It took me a while to really fall in love with each of my kids are they were born. Sure, I loved them and there's no doubt I would have done anything for them, but that moment of boding that everyone talks about, didn't happen for a few weeks. At the time I felt really guilty about that. Everyone talks about love at first sight, and this amazing moment where your baby is put on your chest and poof you're bonded together. I don't know, maybe I couldn't get past the fact that I'd just pushed for three hours with no drugs. Yeah, that may have been it. I'm just kidding. The whole natural birth experience was what I'd wanted. I'm a small person, void of "birthing hips", and I wanted to prove to the world that I could do it. I did. So there. Isaac was a different story. I was depressed, and wanted him out, and didn't really care how it happened, so I opted for the epidural. Epidurals make birth so boring! Anyway, when I was signing the discharge papers after Isabella was born and the nurse said, "Now she's yours for the next eighteen plus years!" I started sobbing. What had I gotten myself into and why were they letting me leave with this baby? It all worked out, and I've kept her alive this long, so I think we're doing okay.
With Isaac, I felt fairly detached at first. He was unexpectedly born with a birth defect (metopic craniosynostosis). For weeks before his birth I'd been telling people that something was going to be wrong when he was born, I was sure of it. Mother's intuition, I guess. Just when we started bonding with him, it was time for his big surgery. His appearance was so changed after his surgery, that I felt I had to re-bond with him. After his bandage was removed, I cried because I was happy that the surgery went well, but also because my child looked so different.
If you're reading this, and you're a new mom, it gets better! I promise! Just hold your baby and snuggle, and when people come over, just tell them to wash the dishes and leave you and the baby alone. You'll never get those moments back. Even though I certainly don't want another baby (and I obviously don't mind admitting that), it's so fun to look back at pictures of when my kids were born and remember how tiny they were. Especially when Isabella gets mad at me for winning Candy Land, and stomps off to her room, I can think back to how to cute and innocent she used to be. She's still cute, of course, but now she tells me she doesn't like what I'm wearing, and has to point out the pimples on my face. Oh how things change.
Friday, October 26, 2012
What are you going to be for Halloween?
I'm going to be a mom. Let's just get that out of the way. Totally creative, right? Just so you know, I completely fail in the Halloween department. If society didn't create all of this build up over the holiday (is it really a holiday? I don't know), my kids probably wouldn't know it even existed. So when Isabella announced in the car what she wanted to be for Halloween, I was shocked, because we never even mentioned it. She wants to be a ballerina fairy. This is the best costume ever. I don't have to do anything! She already has her ballet performance leotard and she has wings. Check and check. Done.
I was with Isaac at his appointment for his orthotics, and the orthotist asked what my kids are going to be for Halloween and I said, "Well, we're not really into to Halloween." He said he was surprised because apparently, I look like the kind of mom who spend a lot of time making costumes. Hmmm. It looks like I'm unintentionally giving off a crafty mom vibe. That is so not me. Alas.
On the other hand, I have a daughter who is very creative in the clothing department. Exhibit A:
I have a dog who is creative at fitting in spaces that are much too small for her. Exhibit B:
I have a husband and small child who make very creative sounds when snoring. Exhibit C:
I mentioned taking Isaac to get measured for his orthotics. He did amazingly well. Mainly because he slept almost the entire time, including the casting of one foot, which meant casting the second foot was a bit unpleasant. In about two weeks his AFOs should be ready and we should be on our way to even stronger legs and proper foot and ankle alignment.
Playing in the leaves...
Stella wanted to play too, which meant she practically pounced on Isaac, and as a result, Isaac had this face...
And, as promised, a picture of our new furniture. I'm working on new prints to hang over the chair, and after a lot of deliberation at TJ Maxx, Isabella and I chose the blue lamps and the throw pillows.
Have a wonderful weekend!
Sierra
Monday, October 22, 2012
Fall photo shoot
I hid from my kids and ate two dark chocolate biscotti. I'm not sure what that says about me, but I happily dunked the biscotti in my tea, and since I'm tired, more often than not, I chewed with my eyes closed. That's talent. Napping while eating, try it.
Isaac woke up with a disgusting runny nose. He's basically a snot machine today, and since we don't have any tissues, obviously I use my sweater to wipe his nose. That was a given, right?
I don't know about this girl. If you have any "parenting of a five year old" tips, let's hear 'em, because I can't do anything right around here. When I was complaining to Walter that his snoring was keeping me up at night, she did have some very good advice: Just pretend it's Japanese music. It's not working. And my parenting isn't working either.
You can't tell, but she complained throughout this entire series of pictures.
This little man was my photography super star. It helped that Walter was diving through leaves behind me, which Isaac thought was very amusing.
And for this series, Walter was running into a wall and falling on the ground. Whatever it takes, right.
Isaac is doing really well with walking. He now insists that he walk everywhere. While at the grocery store (moving at a very slow pace), I asked him several times if he was tired and would like me to carry him, he said, "No!", ever time. It took us awhile, but he made it all the way around the store, and even back to produce for a forgotten lemon.
Last week he had a neurology appointment. His doctor is very happy with his progress. She thinks we should be admitted for intensive feeding therapy sooner than next fall, but I can't handle that. We're sticking with fall of 2013. As for now, I'm pretty sure we'll terminate (doesn't that sound intense) feeding therapy before the end of this month. I'm tired of it, Isaac hates it (which I know isn't a good reason, but I really think he just doesn't like his feeding therapist), I'm tired of sitting at a weekly appointment listening to him scream for 30-40 minutes, and he has been refusing to eat anything for over a month. So, at this point, what's the point? On the other hand, a week ago he licked an M&M, at Chick-fil-A he sucked on a french fry, and Saturday night he was putting popcorn in his mouth. I don't know what to think of this kid!
We are gearing up for six appointments this week. On Friday Isaac will be measured for his AFOs (ankle/foot orthotics). I would tell you the name of the medical reason that he needs them, but that would mean getting up from the computer. Basically, low muscle tone makes his food tilt inward when he walks, and if we don't correct it now, he will end up with chronic foot and back pain when he is older.
Until next time,
Sierra
p.s. Thank you to the four people who joined my blog, it made me very happy. :)
Isaac woke up with a disgusting runny nose. He's basically a snot machine today, and since we don't have any tissues, obviously I use my sweater to wipe his nose. That was a given, right?
I don't know about this girl. If you have any "parenting of a five year old" tips, let's hear 'em, because I can't do anything right around here. When I was complaining to Walter that his snoring was keeping me up at night, she did have some very good advice: Just pretend it's Japanese music. It's not working. And my parenting isn't working either.
You can't tell, but she complained throughout this entire series of pictures.
This little man was my photography super star. It helped that Walter was diving through leaves behind me, which Isaac thought was very amusing.
And for this series, Walter was running into a wall and falling on the ground. Whatever it takes, right.
Last week he had a neurology appointment. His doctor is very happy with his progress. She thinks we should be admitted for intensive feeding therapy sooner than next fall, but I can't handle that. We're sticking with fall of 2013. As for now, I'm pretty sure we'll terminate (doesn't that sound intense) feeding therapy before the end of this month. I'm tired of it, Isaac hates it (which I know isn't a good reason, but I really think he just doesn't like his feeding therapist), I'm tired of sitting at a weekly appointment listening to him scream for 30-40 minutes, and he has been refusing to eat anything for over a month. So, at this point, what's the point? On the other hand, a week ago he licked an M&M, at Chick-fil-A he sucked on a french fry, and Saturday night he was putting popcorn in his mouth. I don't know what to think of this kid!
We are gearing up for six appointments this week. On Friday Isaac will be measured for his AFOs (ankle/foot orthotics). I would tell you the name of the medical reason that he needs them, but that would mean getting up from the computer. Basically, low muscle tone makes his food tilt inward when he walks, and if we don't correct it now, he will end up with chronic foot and back pain when he is older.
Until next time,
Sierra
p.s. Thank you to the four people who joined my blog, it made me very happy. :)
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Out with the old, in with the new.
Moving out the old furniture to get ready for the new stuff elicited a fair amount of trauma in our house. Isabella had a major breakdown, which lasted an hour before we were able to finally convince her that it was okay to be sad about the blue couches, we would miss them too, she could sleep with one of the pillows, and needed to go to bed. It was a disaster. And Stella must have had in her mind that we were moving and surely it was a possibility that she would be left behind, because she was a wreck too! Then, Isaac was mad that we rolled up the rug, and he was out of whack. So now that our new furniture is in its place, everyone seems settled and happy.
Maya turned five and had a tea party for her little girl-friends (plus Isaac, because he had to tag along that day--As you can tell, he had a blast and walked around the table over and over again, growling. He's a very good monster).
Aside from moving furniture, we are enjoying a relaxing weekend. Moving day was actually quite fun since we had several friends helping and then everyone over for chili afterward. I love that we have this close knit group where we can send out a call for help and say, "I'll pay you with a meal!" And they are always readily willing to help. I hope you are blessed with a community of friends too.
Sierra
Thursday, October 18, 2012
How much does your family know about dinosaurs?
To make up for yesterday, today was wonderful. We didn't have any appointments, play dates, story times, nothing. It was fabulous. I love all of those things I just stated (minus most appointments), but we really just needed a day to breathe. The kids were both in good moods, I was in a good, which is really all that matters, right? Being the mom brings new meaning to the saying, "if mom isn't happy, no one is happy." The only place we had to go today, was to Isabella's ballet class. As we left the house, I grabbed the mail, mainly so that I could feed the hoarding situation in my car, but little did I know, I was about to open a very amusing piece of mail.
I need to sidetrack a bit. Whether you have a child with special needs, or developmental delays that they will overcome, you've probably heard of Help Me Grow. Now, let me just state up front, Help Me Grow, is anything but helpful. Actually, they're a pain the butt. The way this program works in the state of Ohio, is on a consultative basis. Well who the heck knows what that means? I'm here to tell you. It means nothing. It means they drill you with annoying questions that only waste your time. When they were here last month, they wanted to complete a "Parent Survey" in which I would describe, in detail, Isaac's entire day. I played along for about eight minutes until she asked me, "So when in this schedule so far did Isaac have a diaper change?" REALLY? I mean, wait a minute, did I hear you correctly? Did you just ask me for details regarding when and where I change my child's diaper? I DON'T THINK SO!
Yep, that was the end of that. I told her this whole thing was a complete waste of her time and my time, and said I'd sign any piece of paper she wanted me to sign but I wasn't going to let someone interrogate my mothering skills. The funny thing is, another mom and I were complaining to each other about our issues with this organization, and I told her this story and she said, "Weren't you afraid they wouldn't offer services anymore, or that they would put something in your file?" Um, no. They can write CRAZY PERSON in red Sharpie all over our file and I could care less.
Isaac's physical therapist used to work with Help Me Grow in New Jersey (maybe it was called something else, but basically the same program), where each family received weekly, in-home therapy. She has told me repeatedly, that she wishes the program in Ohio would operate in a similar fashion. I can't even tell you how many parents I've talked with who cannot understand the point of this program. The only good I see out of participating in this organization, is the fact that my child has special needs, and needs to be enrolled in special education, and this is the easiest way to get in "the system". We'll talk about the why of special education another time, because I know some people have a hard time coming to terms with all of that. A quick answer: IT'S FREE THERAPY FOUR DAYS A WEEK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (when referring to preschool) Did that help? I sure hope so.
Anyway, I am way off topic from this piece of mail I was going to share with you. Help Me Grow sent out a Family Survey. First of all, I am super excited about this because I have plenty to share with them about how unhelpful their organization is. Secondly, they included a bit of direction for filling out the survey, which made me laugh out loud:
On every page, you will be asked to answer questions like the example below:
How much does your family know about dinosaurs?
1 We know a little about dinosaurs
2
3 We know some about dinosaurs
4
5 We know a good amount about dinosaurs
6
7 We know a great deal about dinosaurs
I need to sidetrack a bit. Whether you have a child with special needs, or developmental delays that they will overcome, you've probably heard of Help Me Grow. Now, let me just state up front, Help Me Grow, is anything but helpful. Actually, they're a pain the butt. The way this program works in the state of Ohio, is on a consultative basis. Well who the heck knows what that means? I'm here to tell you. It means nothing. It means they drill you with annoying questions that only waste your time. When they were here last month, they wanted to complete a "Parent Survey" in which I would describe, in detail, Isaac's entire day. I played along for about eight minutes until she asked me, "So when in this schedule so far did Isaac have a diaper change?" REALLY? I mean, wait a minute, did I hear you correctly? Did you just ask me for details regarding when and where I change my child's diaper? I DON'T THINK SO!
Yep, that was the end of that. I told her this whole thing was a complete waste of her time and my time, and said I'd sign any piece of paper she wanted me to sign but I wasn't going to let someone interrogate my mothering skills. The funny thing is, another mom and I were complaining to each other about our issues with this organization, and I told her this story and she said, "Weren't you afraid they wouldn't offer services anymore, or that they would put something in your file?" Um, no. They can write CRAZY PERSON in red Sharpie all over our file and I could care less.
Isaac's physical therapist used to work with Help Me Grow in New Jersey (maybe it was called something else, but basically the same program), where each family received weekly, in-home therapy. She has told me repeatedly, that she wishes the program in Ohio would operate in a similar fashion. I can't even tell you how many parents I've talked with who cannot understand the point of this program. The only good I see out of participating in this organization, is the fact that my child has special needs, and needs to be enrolled in special education, and this is the easiest way to get in "the system". We'll talk about the why of special education another time, because I know some people have a hard time coming to terms with all of that. A quick answer: IT'S FREE THERAPY FOUR DAYS A WEEK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (when referring to preschool) Did that help? I sure hope so.
Anyway, I am way off topic from this piece of mail I was going to share with you. Help Me Grow sent out a Family Survey. First of all, I am super excited about this because I have plenty to share with them about how unhelpful their organization is. Secondly, they included a bit of direction for filling out the survey, which made me laugh out loud:
On every page, you will be asked to answer questions like the example below:
How much does your family know about dinosaurs?
1 We know a little about dinosaurs
2
3 We know some about dinosaurs
4
5 We know a good amount about dinosaurs
6
7 We know a great deal about dinosaurs
- Read each question and circle the number that best describes your family right now.
- If the statement almost describes your family, but not quite, circle the number to the left or the right. For example, if you feel that the statement "5," "We know a good amount about dinosaurs" almost describes your family, but not quite, circle the "4."
- If you do not know how to answer a question, or if you are not comfortable answering the question, skip it and go to the next question.
For the record, I'm not comfortable answering that question. I sure hope the next question isn't about dinosaurs too.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
"You just don't know what our kid life is all about."
Oh my dear sweet Isabella. I know, you have it so hard. You're fed on an overly regular basis, you have enough clothing that you can change your outfit four times each day and then throw them all on the floor and do it over again the next day, you have open access to a ridiculous number of craft supplies which have become the bane of my existence, you have everything. And yet, your little life is so unbearably hard, and let us not forget, boring.
I'm sorry. We've had a rough day, and at the moment, I'm feeling less than positive.
With lunch in hand, I sat down with Isaac in the living-room and let out a heavy sigh,
"What's the matter mommy?"
"Well, Isaac has spent most of the day screaming, and you've spent most of the day complaining, so I'm tired."
"You just don't know what our kid life is all about."
Okay. Maybe I don't. But your kid life looks pretty darn appealing compared to my adult life.
Say goodbye to our much loved, old, ugly, blue couches. We're getting new ones on Saturday. Hip hip hooray! I must admit, I'll be a little sad to see them go. This is where I nursed both of my babies, and spent countless hours sleeping with Isaac.
This is about as high tech as it gets at our house...
I'm a neglectful mother. Until yesterday, when his pediatrician cleaned it off with alcohol wipes, Isaac still had glue stuck to the side of his neck and his chest from the sleep study tape.
So much for my positive spin on math. She tells me repeatedly that she wishes "math didn't even exist."
Dude, your camera is sooo awesome. He looks a little stoned, does he not?
"Does everyone's heart look the same?"
"No, just like every person looks different, hearts are the same way. Like Kieran, he has to have surgery on his heart because it looks different, and the doctors need to fix it to make it better."
"Is that why he's always so loud? Because at Maya's house, we were having a kid meeting, where we were going around in a circle and taking turns saying something, and Kieran was making noise the whole time."
"No, that doesn't have to do with his heart, I think that just has to do with him being younger than you guys."
"Why are we going so slow?" (driving in the car)
"Because I'd rather not hit the car in front of me."
"Maybe, they should make a rule where everyone has to drive slowly so there aren't any accidents. I think that would be a good idea."
"Maybe."
"You know, I only get these ideas about once a month. I have room in my brain for these ideas only one time each month."
"Every day I try to look just like a princess."
"That's nice."
"Do you want to see how beautiful I look?"
"Sure."
"I try to look just like Jesse (my sister), because she is so beautiful."
"Daddy, do we have enough gas to get home?"
"We have enough to make it to the gas station."
"Well, we don't want to end up on the side of the road! Mommy, remember when you made us end up on the side of the road? When you went past that stop sign, remember? We were in the Honda Fit."
True story. Her memory is too good.
I don't know about you, but we all share one main bathroom. Which is fine with me, because I'd hate to have to clean another one (besides our other half bath). This also means that when I want to take a bath, which is pretty frequent during colder months since I refuse to turn up/on the heat, and a bath is the quickest way to warm up before bed, I have a fair amount of bath toys to clean up before I can even get in. The last time Isabella saw me heading to take a bath, she said, "play with the dolphins, mommy. They're really fun."
With that, I'm off to play with dolphins, because I could certainly use some happy sea creatures to entertain me.
Goodnight,
Sierra
I'm sorry. We've had a rough day, and at the moment, I'm feeling less than positive.
With lunch in hand, I sat down with Isaac in the living-room and let out a heavy sigh,
"What's the matter mommy?"
"Well, Isaac has spent most of the day screaming, and you've spent most of the day complaining, so I'm tired."
"You just don't know what our kid life is all about."
Okay. Maybe I don't. But your kid life looks pretty darn appealing compared to my adult life.
This is about as high tech as it gets at our house...
So much for my positive spin on math. She tells me repeatedly that she wishes "math didn't even exist."
Dude, your camera is sooo awesome. He looks a little stoned, does he not?
"No, just like every person looks different, hearts are the same way. Like Kieran, he has to have surgery on his heart because it looks different, and the doctors need to fix it to make it better."
"Is that why he's always so loud? Because at Maya's house, we were having a kid meeting, where we were going around in a circle and taking turns saying something, and Kieran was making noise the whole time."
"No, that doesn't have to do with his heart, I think that just has to do with him being younger than you guys."
"Why are we going so slow?" (driving in the car)
"Because I'd rather not hit the car in front of me."
"Maybe, they should make a rule where everyone has to drive slowly so there aren't any accidents. I think that would be a good idea."
"Maybe."
"You know, I only get these ideas about once a month. I have room in my brain for these ideas only one time each month."
"Every day I try to look just like a princess."
"That's nice."
"Do you want to see how beautiful I look?"
"Sure."
"I try to look just like Jesse (my sister), because she is so beautiful."
"Daddy, do we have enough gas to get home?"
"We have enough to make it to the gas station."
"Well, we don't want to end up on the side of the road! Mommy, remember when you made us end up on the side of the road? When you went past that stop sign, remember? We were in the Honda Fit."
True story. Her memory is too good.
I don't know about you, but we all share one main bathroom. Which is fine with me, because I'd hate to have to clean another one (besides our other half bath). This also means that when I want to take a bath, which is pretty frequent during colder months since I refuse to turn up/on the heat, and a bath is the quickest way to warm up before bed, I have a fair amount of bath toys to clean up before I can even get in. The last time Isabella saw me heading to take a bath, she said, "play with the dolphins, mommy. They're really fun."
With that, I'm off to play with dolphins, because I could certainly use some happy sea creatures to entertain me.
Goodnight,
Sierra
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