You discussing plans for the next day with me:
"When Jesus raises the sun up and makes morning then we shall go take a walk and then play play-dough?"
Yes, darling. When Jesus raises the sun, we shall.
Friday, January 24, 2014
Monday, January 20, 2014
01.20.13 - Monday
You made a new friend today. We have a new six year old girl in the cottage, and you had an absolute blast playing together. I had to laugh as she flew you around on a push airplane that you have and you blasted monsters...particularly when the monster was your baby brother. Poor boy didn't know what role he had been assigned, but he still nicely tried to attack the plane, which greatly helped your game.
I love your imagination my Blueberry. And I'm glad you have a new friend your age.
I love your imagination my Blueberry. And I'm glad you have a new friend your age.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
01.14.14 - Tuesday
I watched you in the car yesterday. You've gotten so tall. Your legs draped over the edge of your car seat, your feet almost touching the seat of the car. Where has my little baby gone?
Saturday, December 28, 2013
12.28.13 - Saturday
You got up and played today--play dough; painting; My Little Ponies. You ate soup and giggled and wanted to have a book read to you.
Why is all this remarkable and worthy of blogging? Because this has not been the pattern the last few days for your behavior. You, my dear, have had the flu. And a miserable case thereof.
It all started with an innocent trip to Austin to visit "The Cousins" and Great Grandmama and Papa. One after another, children fell ill. Nothing super major. A few very tired days with a fever, and then they were up and running again. Baby Q got it after about the fourth day there. And finally, Saturday morning, just as we were getting up to leave for the airport to go home, you caught it.
Of course, after perfect flights to Austin and from Austin to Houston, we got stuck in Houston. For six hours. Five of which you slept, and slept, and burned hot, and slept. Finally we got home, and this same pattern of sleep and burning and not eating or drinking much continued for several days. As we had seen the pattern play out already for several other children, we figured we'd let it run its course. But it wasn't following the same pattern.
In the meantime, Christmas Eve rolls around and Christmas Day. You'd rather nap than open presents. Such lethargy.
Finally, Boxing Day. You wake up cool and happy, ready to play. We encourage you to not overdo it, but we're excited to finally see some normalcy. Then you took a nap and woke up hotter and sicker than ever.
Enough was enough. You and I went out in the car to a walk-in clinic at CVS. 15 people in line ahead of us, at 15 minutes a visit, we were looking at over 3 hours of waiting. And you burned on. The lady next to me saw me looking up other walk-in clinics and told me she had just found Target's clinic had no wait. So we took off for the Target clinic. 30 minutes later we were finally being seen. Except they took your temperature and said, "sorry. She's running 105.5. We can't deal with that here. Go to the ER."
So after two hours, we wind up in the ER. Diagnosis: flu and an ear infection.
Two days later, you are, mostly, happier. Still coughing and recovering, but feverless, and happier. And that, my dear, is the best post-Christmas gift I could have from you.
Why is all this remarkable and worthy of blogging? Because this has not been the pattern the last few days for your behavior. You, my dear, have had the flu. And a miserable case thereof.
It all started with an innocent trip to Austin to visit "The Cousins" and Great Grandmama and Papa. One after another, children fell ill. Nothing super major. A few very tired days with a fever, and then they were up and running again. Baby Q got it after about the fourth day there. And finally, Saturday morning, just as we were getting up to leave for the airport to go home, you caught it.
Of course, after perfect flights to Austin and from Austin to Houston, we got stuck in Houston. For six hours. Five of which you slept, and slept, and burned hot, and slept. Finally we got home, and this same pattern of sleep and burning and not eating or drinking much continued for several days. As we had seen the pattern play out already for several other children, we figured we'd let it run its course. But it wasn't following the same pattern.
In the meantime, Christmas Eve rolls around and Christmas Day. You'd rather nap than open presents. Such lethargy.
Finally, Boxing Day. You wake up cool and happy, ready to play. We encourage you to not overdo it, but we're excited to finally see some normalcy. Then you took a nap and woke up hotter and sicker than ever.
Enough was enough. You and I went out in the car to a walk-in clinic at CVS. 15 people in line ahead of us, at 15 minutes a visit, we were looking at over 3 hours of waiting. And you burned on. The lady next to me saw me looking up other walk-in clinics and told me she had just found Target's clinic had no wait. So we took off for the Target clinic. 30 minutes later we were finally being seen. Except they took your temperature and said, "sorry. She's running 105.5. We can't deal with that here. Go to the ER."
So after two hours, we wind up in the ER. Diagnosis: flu and an ear infection.
Two days later, you are, mostly, happier. Still coughing and recovering, but feverless, and happier. And that, my dear, is the best post-Christmas gift I could have from you.
Saturday, September 21, 2013
09.21.13 - Saturday
Always a new challenge to be faced. Today was a discussion about rudeness and how it is actually possible to be friends with more than one person at a time. Surprisingly, my big girls and I have had several discussions about how it is possible to have more than one best friend as well. So apparently this isn't just a three year old thing.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
09.17.13 - Tuesday
Swimming today. I coaxed you into practicing kicking and doggy paddling and also standing on your own in the shallow end (not on the stairs). When I say coaxed, I mean it took some substantial talking you into it on my part. But then you really got into it in the end. Baby steps, little Blue. We'll get you swimming well someday!
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
09.03.13 - Tuesday
My little introvert. You take nothing by storm but are always deliberate and contemplative in your actions. Which frequently means that you won't participate in activities that you would actually find a lot of fun unless you've had time to mentally prepare and get excited about them. And even then, often you have to experience it multiple times before you really dive in willingly.
For example, riding in a golf cart! You would have nothing to do with the ride in the golf cart from the office; although, you did look wistfully after it when it drove off. Cautious little Blueberry, don't miss out on some life adventures from fear. How do I teach that to you?
For example, riding in a golf cart! You would have nothing to do with the ride in the golf cart from the office; although, you did look wistfully after it when it drove off. Cautious little Blueberry, don't miss out on some life adventures from fear. How do I teach that to you?
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