Fever

We are the house of sick right now, and frankly it is making me cranky. Em and Chris both developed fevers on Saturday. Em's fever didn't seem to slow her down much, but Chris essentially slept the weekend away and was still sick enough Monday to stay home from work. He was diagnosed with a case of the flu and a severe sinus infection, and three days into antibiotics he's a new man, thankfully.

Em also seemed to be getting better, and Tuesday morning I sent her off to school. She had a field trip to the Nature Museum, and she seemed to enjoy it - although she did experience intense anxiety in the Butterfly Room because she was convinced the butterflies were going to poop on her head. I, however, had a rocky day yesterday. After 20 minutes on the cross trainer at the gym, I started feeling really woozy and ended up sort of laying down/napping on a mat for awhile. (Not sure if this is allowed, but I figure I've paid my membership and my nursery fee for the hour, so I'll nap if I want to. Is that wrong? Does anybody else take naps at the gym?) By the time the nursery paged me to deal with Sophie's poopy diaper (yes, I know I talk about poop a lot, but with two little kids it's sorta hard to avoid), I knew I wasn't feeling right. And sure enough, I came home to discover that I too have a fever. I had to work last night, so I just sucked it up and went on, and by the end of the night I felt better.

But today, Fever struck again. Emma's is back up and mine has not gone away. So instead of Group Groove exercise class and a titillating trip to Costco (oh yes, the glamorous lives we lead), we are stuck at home. Again. For the whole long long looongggggg day.

So far the Fever has bypassed Sophie. I will continue to keep my fingers crossed on that one. Hopefully we will all be better tomorrow, because I'm only one more sick day away from amping up the cranky factor. And as my family can attest, no one likes me that way.

Go ahead, keep bouncing!

After a somewhat shaky start, Sophie and her Jumperoo are now embroiled in a passionate love affair.

Exhibit A:

Panting for Laughs

I discovered today that Sophie finds heavy breathing funny. I feel like I'm prank-calling her (albeit in person) every time I do it, but hey - it makes her happy. Besides, I'd do just about anything to hear her fabulous laugh.

Extra Skin

Emma showed me her newest trick this morning - running full throttle across the living room floor and then sliding on her knees...a Danny Zuko move right out of Grease. When I warned her she was going to get rug burns, she said she was safe because she had "extra skin."

I could use some of that extra skin, because mine has felt pretty thin lately. I've been going through the paces, keeping busy...but teeny, self-perceived slights have really been getting me down this week. Mostly, I'm just feeling a little misunderstood and a lot lonely. It's no biggie - I just go through these phases sometimes. But I think I'll ask Em to share some of that extra skin until mine's feeling thicker again.

Catchin' more zzzzzzzz's

Tonight I was reading a book while sitting on the floor by Sophie's side. Confused by the sudden quiet (Sophie does love to jabber), I looked up and caught sight of my baby completely crashed out again.

Clearly she is trying to tell us she needs more sleep, but we try so hard to keep her awake until her bedtime at 6pm because 5pm seems so EARLY to put a baby down for the night. Yet, she is pretty plainly demanding to go to bed. I think perhaps we are awful parents. I wonder if she will remember this when she regales her therapist someday with all the things we did wrong.

Catchin' some zzzzzzzz's

Today was a long day for Sophie. We took Em to school first thing in the morning, and then she hung out at the gym's nursery while I chugged away on the elliptical. She spent the afternoon with Gen and Sam because I had a performance at Loyola. By the time I got home, she was so wiped. I put her in the Jumperoo to try and keep her active until bedtime, but she didn't last long. When I came back to the living room after changing my clothes, this is what I found.

Little sweetie.

Dancing and Kicking

Today, Emma was in the mood to dance.


Sophie was in the mood to kick.

A very typical day in our household.

All Growed Up

Emma was washing her hands before bed tonight and proudly told me she no longer needed a step stool to reach the sink because "I'm all growed up, I'm all growed up Mommy, I'm really really really all growed up!"

I love my big girl, but I also miss my baby. Time goes so fast.

Emma on a Friday

Friday Emma report:

• Informs me at 8am that when Callie gets here this afternoon she will probably want a popsicle, so maybe we should set out two now so they can thaw.
• Draws little scribbles on two post-it notes and then runs them under the sink, saying they need to dry in the air and be beautiful and shiny. She carries them, dripping, one in each hand, calling them her babies, and lays them carefully on her table in the sun so that they can "hatch and be free."
  
• Asks if she can help me fold laundry. I tell her she can put away the towels, and she says, "Yeah, because I'm fast." Then she mutters under her breath as she walks away, "Because I'm so fast."
• Tries to calm a fussy Sophie by singing to her and making funny sounds. It totally works until Emma decides Sophie's head isn't tilted at the correct angle and tries to "fix it" by grabbing Soph's little noggin and jerking her violently forward. Em seems truly confused when Sophie starts shrieking.
• Wears a fleece hoodie on top of another fleece hoodie all day, despite the fact that it's over 70 degrees outside and even warmer in our apartment. When I ask her why, she looks perplexed at the question. "They feel good on my skin," she answers--with the unspoken "duh" at the end of her response lingering in the air.
  
• After watching Spongebob Squarepants: The Movie for the 11th time in three days, she explains that the movie is "long but not that long; not short, but sort of short; kind of long, kind of short, but mostly yellow." Also, thanks to the movie, she has started yelling, "Attention: I have to go to the bathroom!" before, you know...going to the bathroom.
• Wakes up from her nap and immediately asks, "Is my family here yet?"
• Gives me a hug and tells me she loves me even when the sun shines in my eyes.
  

The Week That Was

After so many days/weeks/months of crappy weather, the girls have had such awful cases of cabin fever. They've been pretty good sports, but it has still taken its toll.

Making the best of being indoors

But the weather has been mostly warm this week, so we've actually been able to get out and enjoy the fresh air. With Sophie so young, I've been hesitant to take her outside for very long in frigid temps, which means poor Emma hasn't had much outdoor time lately. She was so darn excited just to go down the slide and run around yesterday at the park that I had to snap some pics.

This week is also the first in which I've stuck to my gym plan. Yes, believe it or not, I joined a gym recently. (All right already, you can pick up your jaw off the floor now, thank you). My goal is to go three times a week, but it had yet to happen - due to illness, scheduling conflicts, and mostly just plain old procrastination. But this week, I actually did it! I made it through a 50 minute Step class on Monday. (50 MINUTES PEOPLE! Maybe not long to some, but considering I usually don't make it past the warm up section of my Tae Bo video, it's a lonnngggg time for me). Tuesday I walked/jogged two miles on the track. And today I did 25 minutes on the elliptical machine. Granted, I know none of these endeavors qualify as a Herculean effort, but in my sedentary world, they are the equivalent of completing a marathon AND triathlon before 9am. In fact, except for an incredibly brief stint at the YMCA a few months after Emma was born - which consisted of two visits during which I barely laced up my sneakers before the nursery paged me to take home my screaming child - I've never before been a gym member. But now I find myself doing the gym thang and, so far, actually liking it.

Other than work and play, our week has been reasonably uneventful. We've had the pleasure of our friend Sam's company a couple days. Sophie sat in her jumperoo for the first time...the jury still seems to be out on that one. We finally completed our taxes. Oh, and Emma decided to poop on the floor of her bedroom for some unknown reason. (When asked why, she replied, "Because I wanted to.") So basically, business as usual.

And now we look forward to the weekend...out of town visitors! (Grandma, Aunt Cara, Callie & Cadin...Yippee!) Lewis and Clark opening! Yet another dentist visit! Late night karaoke! A Cubs game!

Happy weekend to you all...and Spring, you fickle thing, please do not run away again.

Grandpa Greg in da House

Chris's Dad just left after a wonderful three-day visit, and Emma already misses him. It was a lovely weekend. Sophie actually let Grandpa hold her several times (imagine!), and Emma and Grandpa Greg had a blast...playing games, singing songs, inflating balloons, making butterflies, reading books, visiting the Art Museum, and just hanging out. She was his little shadow the entire time he was here, and she seems the teeniest bit lost now that he is gone.

Of course, Chris and I love grandparent visits...someone else to entertain the kids! Whoo-hoo! And yeah, we like seeing our parents too. :) (And next weekend Grandma comes, which means we actually get to Go Somewhere Together Without The Kids! Oh, the riches!)

Thanks for visiting, G.G. Come back soon...and please bring Grandma Connie with you next time! (G.C., hang in there, April 15 is just around the corner.)

Don't Hate Me Because I'm Beautiful

Truly...she is pretty exquisite.

Love Somebody, Yes I Do

Emma and Pat, a.k.a. "Grandma Kitty"

Emma has a lot of fun with her Grandma Kitty. G.K. bought Emma a subscription to Ladybug Magazine, which contains a new song every month for readers to learn. Below is Emma singing the tune she learned with G. Kitty when she visited in February. Enjoy!

Floating Body Parts

Oh my, two posts in one day! I'm blowing my own mind. But I had to share that just now, Sophie found her feet!

The brilliant Sophie Patrice Mathews

And immediately after the above photo was snapped, Emma informed me that she had found her hands and wanted her picture taken as well.

The equally brilliant Emma Bloom Mathews

We are a family of geniuses.

And the letter is...

Emma is really intrigued by the composition of words lately. At any given moment she will declare "Radio starts with the letter R" or "Giraffe starts with the letter G" or "Penguin starts with the letter P." Occasionally she gets rightly confused (i.e., "Jacket starts with the letter G"), which launches us into a dizzying discussion about the bizarreness of the English language. But most of the time she's right on the money.

Today we were walking back from the library and Emma asked for a Kleenex. Unfortunately, I didn't have one. So she wiped her nose with her sleeve and said, "Booger starts with the letter B!"

What can I say? As usual, she's right.

A Family Sunday

Today was a good day. The weather was warm and sunny, and Spring seemed to finally be around the corner, thank God.

I had to work from 10am - 2pm, and I arrived back home to find my family fast asleep. Em was crashed out in her bed, and Sophie and Chris were napping together in our room. It was really sweet to see Sophie snuggling so peacefully with her Daddy. After a somewhat bumpy start, they have become fast friends. I, of course, am not surprised. I know better than anyone how irresistible my husband can be. :)

After naps, we took the girls to the park. Emma slid down the pole by herself for the first time, and Sophie had her first go in the baby swing. She spent most of her swing time drooling and looking slightly dazed. We took these as signs that she enjoyed herself.

Sophie ready for the park! (With fingers in mouth, as always.)

Later, Emma and Sophie had an entire conversation with each other while Chris and I just sat back and watched. It is such a gas for us to see the girls interact. Emma is SO good with Sophie and loves giving her hugs and attention. Sibling jealousy has not reared its ugly head in our house...yet.

Sophie and Emma video

During bath time tonight, Emma told me that she and her friend Cup were not having a good day. They were sad. Apparently Cup had no family because they were all at work, and he was lonely. And someone named Canister, who wears a yellow shirt, was mean to Cup and Emma. But then Cup's Daddy came home from work, and they took a walk and waited for their Grandmas and Grandpas to come visit them, and then they were happy. Which made Emma happy too. Emma hugged and tickled both Cups before bidding them adieu until tomorrow night's bath.

Emma with Daddy Cup and Baby Cup

The girls are asleep now, and the parental units are soon to follow. Goodbye Sunday. We had fun playing with you today.

Lockdown

My friend Gen and I went shopping this morning, leaving Chris with the girls and Gen's son Sam. Taking on a preschooler, a toddler and an infant all alone is no small task, but my husband seemed up for the challenge. Gen and I had a good time, and Chris assured me when I called to check in that things were going well.

But of course, the Fates couldn't possibly let Chris escape that easily. They decided to have a little fun with him before we got home. When Gen and I walked in the door, we found a confused Sophie, a freaked out Sam, and one crazed-looking husband flinging himself repeatedly against the bathroom door. And where was Emma, you might ask? Oh yeah, you guessed it...she locked herself inside the bathroom.

Apparently she'd been in there for half an hour before we arrived, and Chris had tried talking her through unlocking the door again - to no avail. She was either too scared to do it, or the lock was stuck. Either way, it wasn't happening. Since this was the first I'd realized we even had a lock on our bathroom door, it was a double surprise to learn that we didn't just have a lock - it seemed our door was sealed up tighter than a vault's. Chris tried everything he could think of to open the darn thing. He took the doorknob off. He rammed the door with his shoulder. He used a hammer. A wedge. A crowbar. A bunch of other tools whose names I do not know. He banged, pushed, kicked, shook that door with all he had - he even tried pleading with the door (if you consider F-bombs the height of persuasive language). Nada.

In the meantime, I held Sophie and tried to stay out of the way while Gen and Sam ate lunch and looked desperately helpless. Which is how all of us felt, especially Chris. I tell ya, there is nothing worse than hearing your child cry in fear and BEING UNABLE TO GET TO THEM. Yes, I wanted to throttle her for locking herself in there in the first place. And I also wanted to scoop her up and hold her until her tears subsided and she felt safe again. But at the moment, as there was a door between us that Fort Knox would be proud to own, I could do neither. And it was excruciating.

Finally, after much crying (Emma) and grunting (Chris), the lock broke and Emma was free. Although Gen and Sam had crept out the door by this point (they said they had a swimming lesson, but I suspect they were going straight home to make sure there was no lock on their bathroom door), I was so grateful for the distraction of their presence because it had kept my worry at bay. Only after the incident was over did I allow myself to think about how much worse it could have been. Chris removed the lock from the door permanently, Emma seemed to forget the entire event within five minutes, and we continued to go about our day. Crisis averted. Well, not averted, I guess...um, maybe squashed. Crisis squashed? Or crisis solved? Anyway, crisis DONE and now we are on the other side, ready to face the next one - which I've no doubt will reveal itself soon. It wouldn't feel normal around here otherwise.

Slay the Dragon

I had a root canal today. Now, keep in mind that I have a debilitating fear of dentists. (All those years of cavities and braces, I am sure.) In fact, before my latest visit, I hadn't even been to the dentist in at least 10 years. I am not exactly proud of this, but nevertheless. The only thing that finally drove me there after all this time was extreme pain. I kept putting it off and putting it off, until denial was simply no longer an option. So, with great dread, I finally broke down and faced the music.

Fast forward five dentist visits and one crown later, and here I am, waiting in a specialist's office to get the mother of all dental procedures. (And might I digress, just for a moment, that if someone ever tells you they must have a root canal, please do NOT reply with, "Oh yeah, I had one of those and it was awful." I cannot tell you how many times in the last week I have been the recipient of just such a response. That's like telling a pregnant mother that childbirth is akin to red-hot flames devouring your body from the inside out for several hours. Yes, it's true - but really, do you have to SAY it???)

Anyway, back to me, preparing to have my roots ripped out of my mouth. The dentist came in to discuss the procedure, and I am embarrassed to admit that I started crying in the dentist's chair before I even got out a single word. The dentist was very gentle and wanted to know what I was afraid of. The pain? No, not really. The recovery? Again, no...I'd been suffering in limbo for so many months that I was actually eager to move on to the pain of recovery. So then...what? What was I afraid of? I couldn't answer him, because I honestly did not know. I was horrified at my lack of courage and was asking myself the same question over and over all the way to the dentist's office as my hands shook uncontrollably on the steering wheel and my nose gushed blood (oh yes, I was SO stressed out that I actually brought on a nosebleed): Why are you so scared? Why are you so scared? Why are you so SCARED?!

I guess it all boils down to fear of the unknown. That Fear is something I spend enormous amounts of my energy trying to overcome in just about every aspect of my life. It gets to all of us I suppose - how can it not? - and everyone appears to handle it differently. I've seen fear cripple some and galvanize others. I'm not sure which camp I fall into - perhaps somewhere in between. But I DO try to face it, even when the Fear is at its worst. Whenever I feel that I can't do it absolutely no I can't I can't I CAN NOT DO IT (whatever IT may be at that particular time), I think of my girls. I think how much I want to equip them with the tools to face their fears instead of running away from them. And I know very well that I can drill that lesson into them every day of their life, but the only way they will truly learn is if they see the lesson in action...see ME in action, not just talking the talk but walking the walk. And OH, do I want those girls to hold their beautiful, vulnerable, irreplaceable heads high throughout this crazy, unpredictable life...so walk I must.

And so, speaking of drills...even though I excused myself to the bathroom and very seriously considered sneaking out of the building, driving home, lying to my husband and saying I got it done, and then just living quietly in pain for the rest of my life, I didn't do any of those things. I went back in and took a valium (yeah, I'm trying to be brave, but I'm not STUPID - it was offered and I jumped on it!), breathed deeply, said a prayer, and let the dentist do his thing. And, of course, it wasn't nearly as bad as I'd envisioned. It never is, is it? A mere two hours later (good gracious, that's a long time to have your mouth open [insert dirty joke here]), I was done.

When I got home Emma asked me if I was scared, and I answered her honestly: Yes I was. But I also told her that even though I was scared I went through with it anyway. "Just like my dragons Mommy," she replied.

So true. Just like her dragons, the ones that visit her every night in her nightmares, the ones we are trying to teach her to face head-on until they back down and go away.

And it occurred to me: I want to raise a family of dragon slayers. Not fearless dragon slayers, yet dragon slayers all the same. Today I took on a huge dragon, and I brought him DOWN. And tonight while sleeping, Emma will do the same. Bravery is not a gift, not an attribute, not a right: bravery is a decision. So bring it on, dragons! Us Mathews chicks will decide to face you, every time, no matter how scary you are. And we will WIN!!!!! Because in the decision lies the victory.