It was Q’s turn to be a mystery reader for Avery’s class today, and he brought along a friend: Zoe! Q reports that Zoe was nervous while waiting to go into the classroom – “I’ve never read in front of people who aren’t family before,” she told him – and she did some practicing and resting before heading in to surprise her sister.
-M
My Mother’s Day started early – with breakfast in bed (something the girls learned from a Bernenstain Bears book that they love) and gifts from the family. We later went to our preschool’s spring picnic, and I assumed Avery, who now just takes the occasional nap, could benefit from a snooze when we got home. I crawled into bed with her to facilitate the napping process, and unbeknownst to me Q took some photos.
-M
Around 2:30 PM:
Around 3:30 PM:
Zoe learned about traditions during a family unit at school, and she came home Friday afternoon saying that we didn’t have any. Actually, I told her, we have tons of them, including our plans for the very next day.
For the last several years we’ve spent the day before Mother’s Day at the Fair Oaks Street Fair. Despite the name, it’s less festival and more mega-garage sale, with people living in a six-block stretch of the city selling their stuff. We’ve gotten some goodies there before (like a butterfly alarm clock and Zoe’s beloved Dora the Explorer sleeping bag) and this year was no different. My little shoppers – seen below testing out a baseball-shaped chair that I was tempted to get but didn’t - picked up lots of loots (puzzles, books, etc.), and on the way home Zoe cried out, “This was the best day!” I think she’ll remember this tradition next year…
Happy Mother’s Day, everyone!
-M
Given tomorrow’s holiday, I thought it was the appropriate time to share this passage from a recent Huffington Post piece. Describing a Mother’s Day in which she had asked her husband and children for a day off, a mom wrote:
I slept late and played dead when I heard the kids calling for me. I took a shower by myself and without an audience, and I might have even had an uninterrupted bowel movement. I didn’t do any laundry, and I cooked nothing. Jeff took the kids out for several hours, and I had the house all to myself. It was wonderful — for about an hour. That’s how long it took before I started feeling like something was off, like I had lost a limb or something. Before I knew it, I was missing my kids. I longed for their hugs and slobbery kisses, and I hated the thought that they were out experiencing the world without me. I ended up calling Jeff and asking him to come back home.
You see, this is one of the cruel ironies of motherhood. Your kids make you so crazy that sometimes you want to run away, but then as soon as you get a clean break all you want is their company.
For those crazy-busy-and-sometimes-stressed-out mamas who love their kids dearly but often need a break (uh, like me), truer words have never been written!
-M
It was recently picture day at the preschool, and we just got the photos. So crazy how much Avery – and her hair – have grown since starting there!
-M
Yesterday morning, Avery woke us up way too early – calling out for her dad just after 6 AM. (The girls normally get up closer to 6:30 or 7.) The reason she needed Q to come into her room? “I’m lonely,” she told him.
Such is life with a three-year-old!
-M
When Avery was first born, I remember daydreaming about what it would be like when the two girls were big enough to entertain one another. (Life will be so much easier, I remember thinking.) The girls have been doing this for awhile now, and I captured a bit of their quiet time – as they sat in Zoe’s room drawing – not long ago. I like Avery’s response to her sister at the :20 mark, and Zoe reminding her sister about manners at :35.
-M
April 2011:
Yesterday:
-M
Gorgeous weather today meant a trip back to the tulip garden at Golden Gate Park with Avery and Grandma and Grandpa. We spent a good amount of time picnicking and sitting in the sun, but Avery’s favorite part was running around and smelling the flowers (poppies – not tulips – this time of year).
-M
Grandma and Grandpa arrived from Wisconsin yesterday. Within minutes of the girls seeing them, the activities began: sewing with Grandma and Go Fish with Grandpa!
-M
Quite the little entertainers we (still) have! Here are the girls acting silly and dancing for us last weekend.
-M
A recent conversation between me and the little one.
M: “Avery, can I tell you something?”
A, smiling: “I love you?”
M: “How did you know I was going to say that?!”
A: “Cuz you always say that.” (pause) “And sometimes you say, ‘Oh my gosh, you’re so cute.'”
I’m nothing if not predictable.
-M
After an extremely long nap and a dose of antibiotics, Zoe was (almost) back to her old self by bedtime last night. (It was so nice to see her actually smile and laugh a little!) She’s still resting today but should be good as new by tomorrow… Thank goodness for the power of rest and modern medicine!
-M
Hours after the last photo below was taken, right around the time we arrived home from our weekend away, Zoe began complaining that her ear hurt. The pain got worse and worse throughout the afternoon and evening, and Zoe was suddenly not like Zoe at all: Not normally one to complain, she couldn’t stop crying and moaning and complaining that her “ear was paining me.”
Last night was a difficult and sad one, with Zoe waking up every three hours or so and tearfully asking why she was in so much pain. (Taking me back to the days with an unhappy newborn, I just kept singing to her and telling her that “Mama’s here.”) None of the things that Q and I tried – first Motrin, then Tylenol; a warm compress to the ear; some time sitting in a steamy bathroom – helped her that much, and to add insult to injury she began throwing up this morning. A doctor’s visit pointed to the culprit – a “nasty” double ear infection – and even the doctor said she has never seen Zoe like this: so unhappy and in so much pain.
I’m hoping things turn around quickly (as I type this, she’s in the middle of what I hope will be a long and helpful nap), and I hope we don’t have another night like last one. It’s heartbreaking when your little one looks up at you, with eyes that look more like a baby’s than a six-year-old’s, and begs you to make the pain go away, and there’s nothing you can do… I could do without ever seeing that again!
-M
