Tired of Croup

The week of October 21-25 was Emmy's fall break, so it was well-timed, since we had planned to keep her home anyway, but it was also her FOURTH bout of croup.  It seems that anytime she gets a respiratory virus, it's going to turn into croup (and it seems to happen every six months).  This time, the doctor didn't think she needed steroids, so we got through it with just fever/pain reducers, the humdifier and lots of icepops/suckers.

But I am really tired of croup.  I'm tired of the seal bark cough.  I'm tired of how uncomfortable it makes her. 

She's finally getting better now, and her cough is down to just a regular congested cough instead of the seal bark.  We'll see you again in July, croup.

Halloween Prep

Before the meltdown that was dropping her off at her new preschool this morning, Emmy informed me that everyone needed to dress up for Halloween. 

She was recalling last Halloween and said, "I don't remember what Mama and Daddy dressed up as."

And I said, "Well, I think we just dressed up as a Mama and Daddy."

"But everyone has to dress up at Halloween, mama!"  Pause.  "You can dress up as a princess.  Like me."

So, hooray.  I get to be a princess this Halloween.

The Little Parrot

While we were on vacation with Mom and Dad (and Mini-weez and JP), we went out to dinner.  I wanted sushi, so I searched on yelp and found a place with good reviews.  We headed out and put our name on the list for Sushimoto.  It was a tiny space, with only about 10 tables and a bar-- and there were 7 of us.  I knew we would have to wait.

About an hour later, I decided to check back in with the hostess/owner, especially since I had noticed that smaller parties who had arrived after us had been seated.  This is when I realized that she had skipped over us (THREE times) and that she was going to wait until she had seven seats open rather than hold four until a 3 top opened up. 

Needless to say, I was not pleased.  I walked back outside and explained the situation to my family.  I may have been... emphatic, but mindful of the presence of my child, I refrained from using any language stronger than "stupid," (though that one is still technically a forbidden word).

I quickly searched again, found another sushi restaurant, called them to ensure they could seat us, and we headed out.  As soon as we got in the car, Emmy said, "Mama, that restaurant was stupid.  That was a bad restaurant!"

And though I sighed inwardly, it's impossible not to be amused by her precociousness.  "Yes, honey," I said.  "That's right." 

"Now we're going to a good restaurant."

"I certainly hope so."  (It did, in fact, turn out to be a good restaurant-- a hibachi place, and our chef, who had a four-year-old at home, was amazing-- he spent the entire time entertaining Emmy.  I'll have to do another post on the "joke" he pulled on Mama, which made Emmy laugh and laugh.)

After we got back from vacation, we expected to have Emmy start her new preschool on Monday, but they scheduled her start on Thursday instead (giving the kids more time to adjust by splitting the class in half for the week) so Emmy stayed with Grandma for a couple of days.

Yesterday, Tom told me that Emmy told Susan the following:

"Dammit.  Grandma, that car cut you off.  We should go catch them."

I'll give you a couple guesses as to who she might have gotten that from.  Mama's going to be putting a lot of pennies in the swear jar.

I'll see your baby brother, and raise you two kitties.

On Friday, when I went to pick Emmy up from daycare, her friend McKenzie was there.  Emmy told her, "My mama's here!"

Usually, McKenzie isn't there when I pick up Emmy, so I made sure to say hi to her.  I asked how her mom was doing (I knew that her mom was pregnant).

Mackenzie said, "She had a baby.  Maddox."

So I said, "Oh, that's exciting.  Is it a boy or a girl?"

"A boy."

"So you have a little brother?"

"Yeah."

At which point, my child chimed in.  "Well, I have two kitties named Maddie and Lily and I'm going to go see them now."


I tried not to laugh and told Emmy to say goodbye.

When we got home, we went straight upstairs to tell Tom what she had said.  Tom did laugh, and then gave his daughter a high five.  I don't think it's the best idea to praise Emmy's clear display of petty jealousy, but it was hilarious.

"Can you do me a favor?"

For the 11 years that I have known Tom, we have been mindful of how we ask each other for help.  I can't even remember how long we've been doing it, but to maintain respect of each other's time and efforts, I have always asked, "Can you do me a favor?" before asking Tom to do something for me-- particularly when it's something I could fairly easily do myself (but which is more convenient for him).  Like getting a new bar of soap when I'm already in the shower (because I always forget to check the soap status beforehand).

So, when my daughter started prefacing her requests with the same statement-- "Hey mama.  Can you do me a favor?" (It sounds like "fever" when she says it)-- I found it very difficult to contain my amusement.

She is so perceptive.  And she's a little parrot.  If you ask her what her mama's name is, she won't say Pam.  She says "Ham."  Because that's what she's always heard her daddy call me.  And the day she told me to "calm it down, mama," I almost lost it.  (Tom's been saying that to me for years-- minus the mama part.)

These phrases and statements are part of the fabric of our marriage.  We're so used to them, we don't even hear them anymore.  It's just the pattern, it's just what we say.  Until we hear them coming out of Emmy's mouth.  Then I hear it.  And it's surprising, and amusing, and sometimes a little bit jarring to hear these things anew.  It reminds me how much of us will be in her forever and ever.  It reminds me how much of my parents I carry around, without even knowing that I'm doing it.

So, when I get in the car with my little girl and say "home again, home again," and my husband chimes in and says, "jiggety jig," I think of my mom.  And when we pull in the driveway and Emmy says, "now home," we think of Tom's mom.  And hopefully, someday, when Emmy's driving her own daughter around, she'll find herself saying some little phrase and think of me and her Dad.

In Anticipation

Emmy is very excited about our upcoming trip to the beach.  Everyday, she asks, "Are we going to the beach, tomorrow?"  And we've been trying to contain her eagerness-- saying, "No, honey, not yet."  Unfortunately, since Emmy doesn't really understand time-- ("tomorrow" is all future events and "yesterday" is all past events) it's been difficult to explain that we're going "next month," or "later this summer," or even in "two more weeks."  But, now we're finally under 7 days, so I think we might actually be in small enough units that Emmy has some understanding.

Last night, when she asked if we're going to beach yet, I told her, "Five more days, sweetie.  You go to school for five days, then we go to Grandma's house Friday night, then we go to the beach on Saturday."  I paused, holding up five fingers.  "Can you count to five?" 

To which she responded, "I don't want to count to five, mama."  As if she just couldn't understand what I was thinking.  She's asking about the beach (the beach! mama) and her mom wants her to practice numbers.

Missed Updates from One Year Ago

I found a post-it note on my desk last week with several notes about posts I wanted to write-- and thankfully, I dated it.  The date was May 23, 2012.  There's a post from May 23 on the blog, where I hit the first few bullet points, but I never got around to the rest.

Even though they're a year old, I think they're still valuable memories, especially in light of the differences between then and now.

One day last year when I picked her up, she told me that she had gotten in trouble, and when I asked her why, she told me she had hit another little girl.  This was the first time she self-reported bad behavior.  I remember thinking how remarkable it was that with her limited vocabulary she was able to tell me what happened, and I thought it was a mark of our good relationship and developing moral system that she told me about it.

Also, around this time last year, she started talking about Grandma, Grandma and Grandpa, and Patty and JP.  (I think she might have still been calling her Pat-Pat, which I was really hoping would stick, but alas, it's just "Aunt Patty" (and JP).)  This was the point at which she understood that they had titles, were separate people, and that Grandma (Tom's mom) was separate from Grandma and Grandpa (my parents), and that Patty was associated with Grandma and Grandpa-- AND that JP was associated with Patty.  Very complicated for a 2 and 1/2 year old.

She also had just learned what a siren was, and every vehicle that passed us with a siren blaring was automatically a "fire truck."  (Still is.)

Lastly, about a year ago, she had just started playing with the ipad.  She started with a simple coloring program that allowed her to swipe colors across the screen.  Now, barely a year later, she is, I think it's safe to say, an advanced user.