Before I Forget

There are so many snapshots in my day that I try to make a mental note to remember, share with Brent and in this case, blog. I'd like to think I have the mental capacity to pull them all up at will and experience them again but I'm afraid I don't. In the interest of keeping these memories alive, here's a few things I'd like to note:

We were late for church on Sunday but managed to snag the front left pew. It's an ideal spot for playing Bishopric Bingo (ie which one will doze off first?) and for a tad more legroom with the little ones. When it was time for the sacrament, the sweet Aaronic Priesthood holder didn't hand me the tray for bread, he held it down for me instead. Out of left field Ireland squirmed down from Brent's lap and made a run for it. Seeing food at her level apparently turned her into a flash of pink tulle. Before I knew it, she'd broadsided the boy and left victorious with a fist full of sacrament bread. I absolutely do NOT understand what it is about the sacrament bread she has a hankering for! Brent unclenched her grip and took a smooshed piece of bread for his part. When the boy walked out the side door to the lobby Ireland held her hand high and yelled after him, demanding more. I honestly don't know whether to be entertained or embarrassed!

A couple of kids at Liesel's preschool have had birthdays. The special treatment they have garnered has apparently made an impression because Liesel talks endlessly about her birthday. I've tried to explain that it has to snow and all the snow has to melt again before it's her birthday. She's going to have to be VERY patient. Yesterday during lunch Liesel announced, "Today is my birthday Mom. What did you get me for my birthday?" I guess she thought the date was negotiable...

TMI Alert! We have a habit of playfully slapping naked bums in this house. Usually it's Brent or I doing it to Liesel who really loves to be naked and will prolong getting on her clothes or pajamas. Once in a while she gets one of us and she squeals in delight as we run away from her. All the while she chants, "Naked bum! Naked bum! I'm gonna spank your naked bum!" The other day I was getting Ireland ready for a bath and as soon as she was in her birthday suit she spread her chubby hands over her little bootie, grinned wide and said "namen bum". Then she ran away with all possible speed. Oh it was adorable! I caught up with her and gave her a few playful taps to which she chuckled heartily.

I went in for my yearly physical today and to follow up on my latest round of sickness. All morning I talked up how the girls would go to the park with friends while I was at the Dr's. After my appointment I picked them up from the park and took them to Panera for lunch. It's my favorite lunch date on a cold, rainy day. The girls love the mac n cheese and I love the sandwiches. Picking out a goodie from the bakery is always a treat too. Anyway, in the middle of lunch Liesel looked at me and said, "Mom, are you feeling better yet?" Awe! I thought it was so sweet for Liesel to think of that. For the record, I've been doing much better although I'm still on medication. Only time will tell if everything is finally out of my system.

It Stings...

It was a late night last night. Not as late for us as the poor folks in Beantown, but a late night nonetheless.

Brent and I keep talking about how we shouldn't be so bothered and hey, no one knows how to lose with flair like the Red Sox! Then this came on the radio and we relived the misery all over.

What's Your Favorite Memory?

I was delighted to see this on Design Mom. I love how it weaves the images of Chicago with the people on the street. Afterwards I couldn't stop thinking about all my favorite memories. Seeing fireflies for the first time when we moved to Iowa. My nephew eating spaghetti with his bare hands as a toddler in a nice restaurant. Brent surprising me at the airport in a suit. I could go on and on.

How about you? What's one of your favorite memories?

Pint-Sized Helper

I hate needles. I'm trying not to use the word "hate" so much. I'd like to be one of those people who can say they rarely say "hate" because then when I do it's more powerful. And since the little ones get jabbed every few months I'm working on getting used to needles. But I hate them. HATE! And I'm trying really hard not to use the word hate. At Ireland's 18-month check-up her Dr told me she wasn't quite due for her next round of Hep A. Aaaaaargh right! The girls' birthdays are close enough I had them go in on Liesel's birthday, not Irelands. So she's a month shy. However, the Dr told me I could have Ireland get the first round of the flu shot and then get the second when I bring her in again in a month. That seems something a responsible, caring parent would do right? Get the flu shot. Yes, let's do that.

The nurse is always too chipper when she brings in the cursed needle. She lets me choose which arm will receive the shot and I opt for Ireland's left knowing she favors her right. Ireland sits contentedly on my lap while the nurse wipes her perfectly smooth, cream cheese skin with the antibacterial wipe. The smell lingers a bit when out comes the needle and I swear it's 3 inches long. I'm sure she's going to hit bone because suddenly Ireland's arm looks so very tiny. My gut tightens and tears spring to my eyes. I try to remain calm knowing babies can sense moods but I can't help it. The nurse plunges and Ireland's face simultaneously crumbles. As she withdraws the needle, a bright drop of red blood appears and the nurse dismissively says, "She may have a bruise for a couple of days." Ireland's crying is now mixed with a look of betrayal. Her bright red cheeks are making her big blue eyes look all the more pathetic with their fat tears. I'm supposed to protect her, and that pain happened on my watch, in my arms, at my bidding. I try to kiss her and hug her while the nurse mops up the blood and tacks on a band aid. Got any of those for a broken heart? I feel downright horrible exposing my baby to one of my very own greatest fears. Sweet mother of Abraham Lincoln, I HATE NEEDLES!!! But it's what a good parent would do, right?

Predictably, Ireland gets a cough and the sniffles a few days later. Then she wakes up from a nap and is utterly panting for breath. Her belly is practically convulsing trying to get sufficient air and I can hear her from across the room. I'm not a hysterical mother (at least I don't think so). But I'm concerned between a weakened immune system from the flu shot and my own lingering bronchitis/pneumonia, Ireland has caught something serious. I call the Dr and they tell me to go ahead and bring her in. Hmmmmm, what about Liesel? Precedent has shown she doesn't like seeing her baby sister in pain. I call a friend to see if she can watch her but I'm out of luck. If I want to get to the Dr's office before it closes for the weekend I need to get the girls in the car pronto.

Ireland has not forgotten the Dr's office in the slightest. The same chipper nurse greets us just inside the door and Ireland immediately starts bawling. Vitals are taken and we wait for the Dr. Because we're walk-ins, it's clear we are being fitted in between appointments. The minutes stretch and I try to come up with ways to entertain the girls. Finally I pull out my iPod and they're both immediately immersed in the bubble wrap game. Then the Dr comes in. Ireland sobs again, and he hasn't even touched her. He needs to get a good listen to her regular breathing which is nigh on impossible with her screaming bloody murder. I'm so sorry sweet baby, it's not a shot this time, PLEASE just let him listen! He won't hurt you... I promise. The Dr is good-natured about Ireland's less-than-perfect-patient attitude but I can tell he has a job to get done. I try to sing to her but it's all drowned out in Irelands wailing misery.

Somehow in Liesel's toddler mind, she understands the situation. Perhaps not the depth of my anxiety over it all, but she sees her little sister upset, and she sees the dr who needs her calm. She begins jumping up and down to distract her, asking for "high fives" which always make Ireland laugh, and pulling up Muppet music videos on the iPod. She dutifully stands in front of her sister, holding it up for her to watch and be entertained. When one ends, she deftly finds another one, her little fingers sliding over the screen impossibly fast. At long last the dr is able to take a good listen to Ireland's beleaguered lungs. My own tensions ease slightly as I'm overcome by Liesel's maturity. And then it's done. The good dr tells me to watch for breathing over 60 breaths per min and a fever over 102. He assures me she will likely be better by the end of the weekend and asks if I have any questions. We walk out and the girls get well-deserved Dum-Dums.

In the car I shower Liesel with compliments about what a good sister she was and how proud I am of her. She responds by gleefully ripping off the wrapper, "I got a BLUE one!" Yes Love, you got a blue sucker. So glad you like it. I'm emotionally drained and after picking Brent up from the train station I take a steamy shower with Ireland to help her breathe. She lays her head against me so the soft curve of her cheek perfectly matches the base of my neck. Her strawberry blonde hair curls up with the mist and her little arms lay limp. Looking down at her I can see the ugly bruise that was the cause of all this. Ireland barely moves as I rock her gently. She's exhausted too and for the moment we just breathe together.

From now on I'm opting out of the flu shot. I don't care if that makes me a bad parent. I hate needles. And I'm trying not to use the word hate, I really am.

Liesel's First Day of School

To say it was highly anticipated would almost be an understatement. Liesel was bursting to go to preschool like a sunrise on a cloudless day. In the days leading up to it, Brent and I made the mistake of discussing whether or not she needed a backpack right in front of her. Liesel let us know that she absolutely, positively NEEDED a backpack! Ever the sucker for personalization, I chose one from Pottery Barn Kids. When it finally came in the mail she spelled out the letters over and over. That backpack carried some crayons and a sweater (it was 85 degrees btw) and I think Liesel felt as important as the president with it on.

Liesel's first day was actually a parent-child introduction. Given that I was still coughing up a lung, Brent accompanied her. He reported that during roll call the teacher would say the name and then everyone would repeat, "HI Joe Schmo!" Apparently Liesel was getting impatient and hey, with a last name of Wuehler she has good reason. They were between names when she interjected, "My name is Liesel: L-I-E-S-E-L!" When I asked her what her favorite part of preschool was she said, "My friends." Oh that we could all make friends as easily as a toddler! She definitely did not want to leave, even when we reminded her she'd be back.   

When I took Liesel in for her evaluation last week, Ms. Diaz sat down with me to ask questions and complete forms while Ms. Miller played with Liesel. I warned Ms. Miller she'd chat her ear off and that was exactly what happened. Some of the questions threw me a bit. "Does your family eat dinner together?" Woah, where did that come from? Uhm, sometimes... I often go workout and regain my sanity. But Dad feeds them. "What nationality would you say she is?" I immediately said, "American" and Ms. Diaz blinked like she wasn't expecting me to say that. I added, "Her family history is from Northern Europe but she is definitely American." I'm still not sure why that seemed like an odd response. "How would you describe her typical mood? Happy, moody, volatile, melancholy or enthusiastic? I'm gonna go ahead and put happy." Liesel was chattering away while playing with Ms. Miller.

I was greatly surprised by Ireland's reaction when Brent and Liesel got out of the car. She definitely felt left behind... with the sick parent no less. Ireland cried for quite a while. I guess I just assumed she'd be excited to have me to herself for a change. Not that I can fault her. The car was strangely quiet. When we met up with Dad and Liesel, it was immediately filled again with her talking, singing, and harassing her little sister.

Ireland's First Day of Nursery

The fabulous nursery workers in our ward invited Ireland to come a week earlier than her official 18-month birthday. They try hard to help kids assimilate and so have parents come with on the first time. I was home sick so I missed it but Brent tells me it was immediately apparent he didn't need to be there. Ireland was perfectly happy although supposedly she rushed the snack table when the time came. Aye de mi! That girl has an appetite!!! A few weeks ago she actually heckled the priesthood when they were passing the sacrament because she wanted more bread. Anyway, Brent tells me she's good to go to nursery from now on.

Oh how I love these guys!

Love Notes

I was just reading an article about how to pack a healthy lunch. There was a picture of a sandwich with a note from Mom and I was suddenly transported back to my school days. When we were old enough, we packed lunches for ourselves and our siblings on a rotation but Mom had a day too (Monday was it? So she could make them on Sunday night? Siblings confirm!). She almost always wrote a little note signed with a heart and an oh so recognizable M. Sometimes the napkin would lay on my frozen Capri Sun and by the time I got it, the note was smudged. But it was there nonetheless. Even when I was in high school and supposedly too cool to get a love nudge from my mother. In those days my friends would rip the napkin right out of my lunch as soon as I opened it to see what clever thing my mom had written that day. Initially I was embarrassed but I came to realize they were a little jealous and I came to look forward to getting them.

Thanks Mom, you did it right :)

Brookfield Zoo

It has been brought to my attention that this blog is perhaps misleading. My posts give a very narrow view of our family life that might lead one to believe we are perpetually well dressed, adventurous and happy. Let me debunk that myth right here and now. I am still very much in the throws of figuring out the whole SAHM thing. Do I make mistakes? Absofrigginlutely! All the time. I yell at my girls, neglect the dishes, fight with Brent and forget to floss. But I'm doing my best. In highlighting the shiny, happy moments, I hope that I too can look back and the dark will fade away into the light. It's a survival tactic for an overly self-critical, perfectionistic individual such as myself. If I think about all the ways I'm failing at my one and only job (ie CEO of this household) I just want curl into a ball and cry. But for the record, it is not all sunshine and lollipops around here. To wit, the Brookfield Zoo.

Liesel was requested to participate in another study at the University of Chicago. This one focused on how little kids learn math skills. They really try to make it a positive experience so everything is introduced as a game. The researcher told me that in the middle of the study Liesel grabbed all the toys and said, "Now I'LL show you a game!" Well, it's another $10 for her savings account at least. I forgot our GPS in Utah so I thought I'd just print off directions. Well our printer wasn't working so I was in downtown Chicago traffic trying to read them off of my blackberry. Needless to say I got lost. Really lost. On the wrong side of town in an alley way lost. Big man trying to wave me into a creepy chain-linked parking lot lost. Never going out without the GPS again lost.

The place was a ghost town. Liesel just looks bright and cheery because the heat hadn't set in.

After our time at the University of Chicago I wanted to do something fun. We've done the beach a few times and the nearest museum a few times. I've really been wanting to check out the Brookfield Zoo. Apparently they have a huge Halloween dealio where kids can come in their costumes and get candy. I was hoping to check the place out beforehand to see if it would be worth it to drag crowd-and-traffic-hating Dad along. Since we were headed downtown anyway, this seemed the opportune time.

Now the effect of the weather is starting to show. Still smiling for the camera though... what a trooper! I tried to get Ireland in the picture but she ran away from the giant gorilla. Weird

After paying $9 for parking I got to pay another $23 for general admission... no added attractions. Luckily I packed lunch for the girls. Unfortunately in the rush to get out the door I forgot to pack any diapers. Not a one! Oh, and it was 96 degrees outside. With humidity. The zoo was practically deserted so it was nice to not have lines but we were melting. Many of the exhibits had signs for stroller parking. I got to lug little Ireland with her bright, red cheeks in my flaming arms and sweaty pits. It was miserable. We saw about two animals before I wanted to leave. Oh, and WHAT was I thinking? The girls were terrified of Reagan's Boston terriers... why would they want to see wild animals that in any other setting could kill them? Seriously stupid.



Giraffes. Whatever. Even in the shade we were schvitzing and it smelled like poop (the humidity enhanced the scent). The giraffe chewing on the tree stared Liesel down after this pic. Psycho!

 We only stayed for about an hour and half. I spent the ride home being grateful for air-conditioning and feeling guilty for spending so much money. This little adventure was definitely a total fail. Maybe we'll try again in a few years. I'm still interested in the Lincoln Park Zoo which is free, but I'll wait until things cool down. I'm zoo-ed out for the time being.