Wake U-up!

Patrick has been dreaming of the day when Chloe would finally open her own door in the morning, run down the hall, come into our room, and wake us up. He was convinced that it would be sooo cute. He's talked about it for months. Today it happened. It wasn't cute. It was downright annoying.

Doctor's Orders

After days of fever and two weeks of green gook, Patrick finally took Chloe to the doctor yesterday. The verdict was in... sinus infection and confirmed asthma. He sent them home with our first ever antibiotics, a liquid steroid, and an appointment for an asthma evaluation next week. Relieved that we knew what was wrong and had something to make it better, we were ready to get the medicine in her! Cue stress. Chloe hates taking liquid medicines. She reacts the same way to medicine as she does to doctors. With wails and thrashing that leads to hyperventilation and occasionally vomiting. Not a pretty picture. Last night we tried mixing it with her juice, per the doc's advice. No go. Today, Patrick decided to just give it to her straight. I suggested a little medicine cup. And lo and behold:

Patrick sets cup full of thick pink liquid on kids' play table.
Chloe walks up, intrigued. She stares at it. Evaluates it. Thinks it's a trick. Starts to walk away.
Eli crawls up. Pulls up on table. Reaches for cup.
Chloe feels threatened. "No, No Eli. That's Chloe's cup!"
Throws it back in record time. Hands cup to daddy.
Asks for more.

Ah, success.

Visions of Christmas

We have been so excited about our first Christmas with both kids that we couldn't wait for it to get here. The kids were getting a train set and train table from their Mimi and Grandpa, and we absolutely couldn't wait for them to see it. We woke up Christmas morning with Eli and we waited. And we waited. And waited. And waited. Chloe just wouldn't wake up. All the adults were sitting patiently around the tree, waiting for the children to be ready. About nine o'clock when Chloe still hadn't roused, we had to put Eli down for his nap. A little later, Chloe got up, and she was sick. Really, really sick. I tried to show her the train and she responded with weeping. She wasn't really interested in opening presents, though she slowly did, and sweetly enjoyed it all. By the end, it was time for her to go back to sleep. She just couldn't make it any longer. She fell asleep, Eli got up. We started all over with him, opening his presents, and letting him wreck the train. The weather was rainy and yucky keeping us housebound with the new tricycle. It was all in all a good day, just nothing like we envisioned.

Over the River

The day before we left for Christmas in Shallotte, I told Chloe that we would be leaving for Mimi's house the next day. She doesn't seem to really understand things like "tomorrow" "later" or "in the morning" yet. So, I further explained by saying we would be going to Mimi's house after she went to sleep and woke up. Then, the unthinkable happened. Chloe napped. She never naps. I mean never. When she woke up, she came out of her room, beloved pink shoes in hand, and announced "Mimi's house! Let's Go!" Sheesh. I tried explaining that she would have to go to sleep again and when the sun was out, we would go, but she was fixated. She followed me everywhere all night long, shoes in hand, "Mimi's house, Mimi's house" repeating all the while. Finally, she took a rest to sleep. The next morning, Chloe zoomed out of her room, shoes in hand, giggling and squealing "Mimi's HOUSE!" We packed up and headed out. I have to add, it was by far, the most peaceful car trip we have had to date.

Cantata Captivation

Sunday night was the Christmas Cantata at our church. It was the first time that Chloe has participated in anything taking place in "big church". About halfway through the second song, I ran back to the nursery to retrieve her. I just had to get her; I knew she would love it. She enjoyed the singing, especially when the Children's Choir joined the adults for one song. She sat still and listened, mesmerized by the music nearly the whole time. It wasn't until the end, during the gospel presentation, that she got a little restless. It felt so wonderful having her close to me, enjoying our church family in their praises to God. I just can't believe how quickly she is growing up.

Let the Games Begin

Recently, when Eli really began to make his own way through the world, it finally hit Chloe that he is actually a little human- one that is completely imposing on her turf. I have to admit, I really thought my kids were special and were somehow above battling for attention. I thought maybe we were just incredible parents whose children just felt so loved that they wouldn't possibly want or need any more of our time. I figured it was obvious that they were both loved the same. That they both had mommy's heart wrapped around their little fingers. Surely Chloe was mature enough at two to realize that Eli is still a baby and he simply needs more of mommy's time. Obviously, this doesn't mean he gets any more of her love. Of course they know all this. My kids are geniouses.
HA! Why as parents do we even waste time filling our tired little brains with these kind of thoughts? It's ridiculous the kind of silly, somewhat self-righteous thinkings that we can think. But as they say, the truth always comes out in the wash (or something nonsencical like that.) And the truth has taken my house by storm- its name is Sibling Rivalry. The last week or so Chloe's brainwaves have looked a little like this:
Eli can pull a book off the shelf? Well, I can pull the shelf off the shelf.. And I can throw it. Take that.
Eli can crawl fast? Well, I can crawl faster, stop him, sit on him, and squish him flat.
Eli's sucking on a crayon? Watch me, Mommy, I can chew a crayon, spit it out, and make a Monet.
Eli's eating another leaf? I'll eat a leaf, too. I'm not scared.
Eli's putting sand in his mouth? I can eat the entire park. It's so yummy.


This isn't to say that it doesn't go both ways, though Eli's brainwaves look more like this:
Uh oh. What is she doing? Yo, Chlo, Back off. She's my mommy. That's right, walk away. Don't even think about touching her.. Wait... Mommy... what are you doing.... Mommy?.. Put her down...Mommy! .. what.. are.. you.. doing.. but,but, you're my mommy.. Waaaaaaahhhhhh!


It hasn't been all bad, either. It seems that this has all been some sort of backwards process to bringing them closer together. More and more times I have found them chasing one another all through the house, around chairs, under tables, squealing happy squeals the whole time. Chloe has all but retired the infamous "N-n-n-n-n-no, EI" and replaced it with "Silly EI" which is much more tolerable, and kind of endearing. Chloe has been sharing her toys when asked to, even her beloved trucks. So, in a way, it's nice. Not to mention, seeing your two year old crawling around the backyard with a tree's worth of leaves hanging out of her mouth is pretty amusing in that I-don't-know-whether-to-laugh-or-cry-so-I-think-I-will-laugh-(at-least-this-time) kinda way.

'Twas A Saturday Before Christmas

This morning Cindy had Tamara and I and all of the kids over for lunch and a playdate. The girls got to hang out and bake and decorate Christmas cookies (and eat and eat and eat.) It was so much fun! Chloe had lots of fun playing with different toys, patting out her gingerbread dough, and eating all of her favorite foods, but the best time was had outside on Sara's awesome swing, her slide, and her trampoline. My kids both adore being outdoors, and were in absolute Heaven this afternoon.

The girls got a chance to roll out their own cookies........

.....unfortunately, none of their dough actually made it into the oven before it was eaten.

Come Let Us Adore Him

Saturday evening, just as Chloe was sitting shirtless at the table finishing her messy supper, and Eli was pantsless, getting ready to have his bath, we got a friendly knock on the door. It was a group of real-life-carolers. Our first of the season. Patrick went out on the porch with Eli as they started singing, and I struggled to make Chloe decent, quickly wiping food from her chest, frantically squishing her arms into a sweater I saw nearby, and scrambling to the door, sweater still unbuttoned. I was so excited for her. She had never seen carolers before. Just as we stepped outside they were singing "....the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay." Chloe immediately looked up at me wided-eyed and with her little sweet voice proclaimed, "Jesus!" She stared on in sweet amazement as our new friends continued to praise the Lord in song, and as I struggled to hold back the tears.

The Importance of Being Wormy

In my family, everyone has a nickname. Everyone. My great-aunt Tootie has lived in the same town for seventy years, and most people still don't know her name is Barbara Ann. I have an Aunt Dick in that town whose real name is Nannie Ruth. No one calls her that. My Uncle Chub is actually a Jeff. My brother is called Henry by these people. They've always called him that. Nevermind that's not his name. Nicknames are just a part of us. It's what we do. I grew up with several. Some nice, some not so nice. All in love. I'm still Turtle to my mom, and I love that. I'm Terd Bird to my Daddypa, and in a weird kinda way, I love that, too.

Nicknames are interesting things. Not like birth names at all. With a given name, the parents rack their brains for months on end trying to decide on the perfect name. There are books and websites and lists and discussions and occasionally arguments and hurt feelings. All because you want your child to have the name that suits them perfectly. Nevermind you don't actually know the first thing about your child. Birth names are born of hopes, expectations, traditions. Nicknames are born of reality. Birth names are planned, nicknames just happen. At least in my family. So follows the evolution of Wormy.

When Chloe came home from the hospital she was jaundiced, so she had to sleep on a biliblanket. The "blanket" was actually a hard plastic paddle with an incredibly bright UV light (think tanning bed) with cords coming off of it. You placed the paddle under her, wrapped a blanket tightly around, and plugged it in. Stick a little hat on her head, and voila, she looked just like a GloWorm. Hence her very first nickname, "Chlo-Worm". That lasted for a bit, but as southerners do, we shortened it. So began "Worm" and sometimes "The Worm". Not long after, she started to move. And as in all things, Chloe crawled in her own special way. Never with her belly off of the ground. She just slithered around the house like an inchworm. Thus, "The Worm" gave way to "Wormy." And it stuck.

To us, the name Wormy is beautiful. It's wrapped up in memories, in experience, and in love. I doubt she will go through life saying "My name is Wormy, nice to meet you." But, if she did, that would be okay, too.

Praise Music

Today when we were coming back from Wednesday morning Bible study, I hear from the backseat, high above the sound of Sunny 93.9's all Christmas all the time, "Yes! Jesus Looooves Meeeeeeeeeeeeee. Es, Jesus Loves Meeeeeeeeeee. Bible tol me sooooooo." It was completely unprompted and so sweet. Seeing as I never taught her that song (how did I overlook that one?? I mean, what a great Mommy I am! Sheesh.), it caught me completely off guard and warmed me all over. I just love the sounds of praise pouring from my children's little lips.

"Do you hear what these children are saying?" they asked him. "Yes," replied Jesus, "have you never read, " 'From the lips of children and infants you have ordained praise' ?" Matthew 21:16

Mama's Got a Brand New Blog

I finally got around to trying my hand at designing my own banners for the kids' blogs. Neither one is very sophisticated because we don't have any photo editing software on our computer, and the blazing speed of our dial-up doesn't really help either. But, all in all, I'm satisfied with my first attempt at blog individuality. Thanks to UncleB for getting me started with the html wahwah.

I put age-tickers at the bottom of both of their blogs for those times when you just can't remember how old they are. I know I have those moments often.

By the way, I'm fully aware of how incredibly lame this post title is. I just couldn't help myself.

Trucks, TV, and Ty

Chloe is really into trucks and trains and transportation in general right now. Her favorite video is Kidsongs: We Love Trucks and her favorite book of late is Dumpers and Diggers. That being said, Extreme Makeover: Home Edition couldn't have picked a more perfect time to set up shop in our neighborhood. We have had so much fun walking up and down the street checking out all the dumpers and diggers and fire trucks and big trucks and lights and cars and stuff for the past two days. Chloe was completely enthralled with the frontend loader yesterday and loved the diggers dumping their loads into the dumptrucks. Today she especially liked the demolition derby cars that they used to crash into the house to kickstart the demolition. Upon seeing a big truck pushing one of the cars out of the way Chloe remarked, "Uh-Oh, Car Broke." Later, she was very busy feeding her baby a bottle and managed to completely miss the trackhoe ripping the roof off the house. Only a toddler could manage that. We also had great fun counting the many wheels and watching the helicopters and airplanes circling overhead.

We were up close and personal with Paul and the other guy yesterday. Still have only seen Ty from a distance. Paul seemed kinda stressed and not really the stroller-full-of-babies-staring-at-him kinda guy. The other guy seemed really cool. I have no idea what his name is. Neither does anyone else. Several conversations have gone kinda like this- "Not Ty or Paul, you know, the other guy." "Can't think of anyone else." "You know, he's broader, dark hair, kinda young." "Oh yeah. Him. Yeah, I can picture him, don't know his name though. So he's nice?" "Yep, really nice."

I'm excited about watching a house being completely built from scratch in a week. I'm really excited for the family. It's neat to see how God can use even Hollywood to bless His children. And selfishly, I'm really hoping for a new playground. I saw them do that once before. Anyways, if nothing else, we have another week of truck sightings to look forward to. And maybe sometime this week we will run into Ty. Not that I care. Wormy just really wants to meet him.

25 months

Today is Chloe's 25th monthday. I can't believe it. I know it's so cliche to state over and over and over again how fast the time has flown, how quickly they grow up, how its seems just like yesterday they were born.. but, well, it's cliche for a reason! Chloe just isn't a baby anymore at all. She is a full-fledged toddler speeding toward little-girlhood.

A FewLikes: Daddy, Chicken Nuggees, (Y)Ogurt, EI in spurts, Blues Clues though not as much, Christmas Trees, Trucks (she always will, big or small she likes them still...), trains, her rainboots (preferably worn with just a diaper and a necklace), lights (on!), her kitchen, her new toy broom (watch out dirt!), being a helper, necklaces, uninhibited toes, cake, looking at pictures, singing (especially Coey's CCC's [abc's] and "TootToot oss we GO"), (L)ollipops, bubble baths, stroller rides, being independent, being outside, kicking balls, running fast, BIG slides, her friends "Ewwa and Sawa", hairbows

Dislikes: Loud noises, most foods, dirt, trash, messy hands, EI in spurts, vegetables minus french fries, nonpoultry meats, being helped, disorder, sleeping in a bed that's not her own, peanut butter, spots on Dolly, waiting, getting her hair washed

Happy 25 months, Little Girl!

Daily Chlocabulary

Face hug- v. to embrace another's cheeks between the thumb and forefingers of both hands, drawing their face closer to your own

Usage:
Me: "Chloe, give mommy a big hug"
Chloe: "Nooooo. Face hug!" [gives face hug]
Me: "Ow."
Chloe: [giggles and kisses]

Where does she get this stuff??

The Moment

The long awaited moment finally took place this morning.
I was eating my breakfast, Chloe was going on another "trip" to the back of the house. She turned, smiled, waved, and said "Bye-bye Mommy. I love you!" And off she went.

Happy times.

A Levitical Laugh

I ran across this verse tonight in my study of Leviticus and in light of a recent post, I enjoyed a chuckle.

"As for those of you who are left, I will make their hearts so fearful in the lands of their enemies that the sound of a windblown leaf will put them to flight. They will run as though fleeing from the sword, and they will fall, even though no one is pursuing them." Leviticus 26:36

A Little Love

This just warms my heart.

Giving Thanks

I just wanted to take a quick moment and thank all of you who so sweetly took time to thank me for my blog endeavor. It was such an encouragement to hear how much all of you enjoy reading about my precious little children. I am so blessed to have such wonderful and supportive family and friends, and I am so happy that I can share their lives with you all even though we are so far away.

His Little Patootie

Last week Chloe suddenly became an overt Daddy's Girl. We always knew she was one deep down, but now there is no denying. Every evening when Patrick gets home she makes a crazymaddash to the door yelling "DADDDY! DADDY! Daddy's HOOOME!" and immediately wraps her little arms tightly around his legs, leaving him immobile until she gets her way and he picks her up. And up is where she stays the rest of the night. Under no circumstance is Daddy allowed out of her sight, and preferably not out of her touch. Tonight Patrick posed the following brainbender in typical SAT style:

Eli is to Mommy as Chloe is to_____.

She has even started singing along with Daddy's special Chloe song.

"My Wormy, My Wormy/How I love you so/My Wormy, My Wormy/Love you more'n you know/You are my cu-tie/Yes, my little patoo-tie/My Wormy, My Wormy..."

Hearing Chlo enunciate the words has made me a firm believer that Patootie should be every child's first three syllable word.

Scary Stuff

Over the past few months, Chloe has started taking on a spirit of fear. It started somewhat understandably enough, Chloe was deathly afraid of flies, or anything that kindasorta looked like a fly. They are annoying enough, and if you had never seen one before, I could see how it would be a little unsettling to have one buzzing in your ears or divebombing your face.. I'll never forget the first time she reacted to one. It was a Sunday morning. Chloe was in our room puttering around, I was in the kitchen, and Patrick was in the shower shaving when we heard the most heart-wrenching scream to ever make its way out of our child's lips. I jumped a foot and Patrick sliced his neck, then both of us came running. We saw Chloe sitting in the corner trembling, weeping, and pointing. Pointing to a fly. You can only imagine the mixture of emotions we felt when we saw the object of her terror. Since then, we have had to strategically place a throw rug on our bathroom floor to cover up a black mark in the linoleum that Chloe is convinced is a bloodsucking fly. Even now as she seems to be on friendly terms with flies, even professing her love for them, she still won't even come in the door if the mark is peeking out from under the rug.

Various other creatures and objects have become sources of great anxiety over the past few months. We had a few weeks where the vacuum cleaner could only enter the room after I built a fort around her on the couch to keep her safe. Then there was the candle era. She refused to even enter a room if a candle was burning, even if it was 5 feet off of the ground. Then, the sound of buses or big trucks. Or trains. Then specks of dust or dirt. All were things she has been around since birth, things that she sings songs about, many of them things she likes, making this all even harder to understand. Yet however bizarre all of those phases were, the present one takes the cake.

It started yesterday when we needed to leave for errands. Normally I open the door and Chloe rushes out and stands by her cardoor while I fumble along with Eli and the twenty bags full of necessities for our half hour outing. We were walking out when Chloe jumped and stopped dead in her tracks. Thinking she forgot her beloved Dolly, I sidestepped her, told her to go get Dolly, and went ahead to the car. I got Eli all strapped in, unloaded my bags, and turned to go get Chloe and shut the door. To my surprise, she was still standing there, frozen, with tears rolling down her cheeks. I called to her, she refused to come. I picked her up and put her in the car, not giving it a second thought. Fast Forward. We came home, got unloaded, and I sent her to the house. She stopped on the yard side of the doormat, trembling, crying, pointing. I couldn't figure out what was going on. The only thing out of the ordinary anywhere near the doormat was a leaf that had blown into the corner. I picked it up and threw it into the yard. She still wouldn't move so I carried her in. Fast Forward to this morning. Time to leave for errands again. Same thing. Stop at door, cry, yell, point. No amount of coaxing would get her out the door. I pick her up and carry her to the car. Fast Forward more. We come home laden with bags of groceries and boxes of diapers. I put Chloe down next to the car, on the concrete parking pad. I get Eli out and head toward the house, turn to call for Chloe, and can't believe what I see. Chloe is still standing right where I left her. Bawling, crying, and once again, pointing.
Me:"Chloe what's wrong?"
Her: (sniffle, snub, wail, point)
Me:"Chloe it's ok. Tell mommy, what's wrong?"
Her:"Leeeeeeeeef"
Me: "What did you say sweetie?"
Her:"Leef. Leef"
Me:"Leaf? Seriously?? Leaf??" (pick up leaf)
Her: "BWAAAAAAAAAH" (plasters self against car, screams)
Me: "It's a leaf. You like leaves."
Her: "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH"
This time, refusing to give in to the insanity, I walk on toward the house, coaxing her to follow. Several agonizing minutes pass, when she finally takes a step, keeping a wary eye on the grass. She slowly walks toward the house, never leaving the center of the concrete. Never erring to the right or left, straight and narrow all the way. Then she notices a leaf dangerously close to the sidewalk, ready to pounce out and maim her. Terrified, she breaks into a run, finally ending the painfully slow trail of tears. Just outside the door she demands to be picked up and carried in, still not brave enough to walk near the leaf's essence that remains in the corner.
Eventually we make it inside without casualty. I close the door. Instantly she runs to it, plants her face against the glass, and yells "Hey leaf! See ya later!" Sigh.