Thursday, July 12, 2007

Life with Emily

I know, it's not my house, or my kid, but it could very well be! If you ever want to know what living with a three year old is like, check this out!

And thanks again Kristen for introducing me to this website, I love it!

Sick Eyes

And now we have "sick eyes". The kind that water all day long and then goopy stuff comes out. Help!

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

The Week that Never Ends

After the impromptu Wednesday off last week for the 4th, this week has been dragging. And dragging. And dragging. Emily and I both picked up a little cold, probably due to swimming in the rain. Fun, yes, but probably not the best idea. I find it hard to believe how many colds we've had in the past two years. I really thought that moving to a warmer climate would mean less sickness, but I don't know if it's daycare or South Florida germs, but it feels like at least once a month or so, we're sick. And it's the kind of sick that really sucks. The kind that you still have to get up to go to work and school because it's not that bad during the day, but then you suffer all night with a cough and stuffy head. My throat was sore again this morning which usually indicates the beginning for me, but I've already been sick for 5 days! ARGH!

In other news, Emily forgot her juice this morning, so we had to stop at the gas station and buy her something to drink. She's sick, she needs her fluids! I decided to avoid the regular gas station because 1.) it's always crowded 2.) they have a donut station that Emily can't seem to stay away from. That was a big mistake. I pull into the other gas station and hop out. Emily decides on Strawberry milk, I decide on a Sugar Free Redbull. And, we split a small package of donuts. The strawberry milk was in a glass jar, so I poured it into a styrofoam cup. I went up to pay and the cashiers informs me that I'm going to have to pay for a 20 oz soda since I used the cup. Huh? Can't they just charge me a quarter or something? Nope. So, our total comes to $5.55. I swipe my card, the machine says Thank You and I start to leave. She tells me that I have to wait for her machine to say it's ok. Alrighty. A minute or two passes. I'm still waiting. Finally, she decides that I need to reswipe my card. I don't like that, and I'm still positive it's going to show up on my card. This time, it goes through immediately. For the WRONG amount! I'm standing there waiting on her to figure out what to do and she decides that she needs to void out the transaction and rering it. No way. Finally, she gives me some cash back and we're on our way. It took a total of 14 minutes. I hate mornings.

Monday, July 09, 2007

Emily turned the big “3” on Saturday July 7th, 2007. Quoted as the “luckiest” day on earth, but I think they missed the mark by a few years!

What feels like yesterday, I was holding this tiny, purple (are you sure she isn’t black? asked Jeremy a few minutes after she was born) baby with a black mohawk for hair. I remember standing on my front stoop at our tiny apartment in Jefferson, OH in the blazing heat the day after I brought her home from the hospital. All of our friends drove by on their way out of town, loaded up in “Regina”, not knowing that it would be her final trip to the Hills, and for most of them, their final trip too. They honked and waved and all of the sudden I was filled with this strange feeling. I didn’t want to go camping and boozing for the weekend. I wanted to stay home and get to know this little new person. Weird. Jamboree in the Hills and Emily will always be linked. I met Jeremy at JITH 2003, and Emily was born the weekend before JITH 2004. Yep, we moved quickly, but when you know, you know, or something like that!

Anyways, back to Emily. Now, she is in “pre-school”. Almost 3 ½ foot tall, big enough to ride in a “pink seat”, blond hair that needs regular haircuts, big blue eyes that aren’t quite the same color as his, but share the inability to hide their emotions. A love for the outdoors and animals, and little patience for a slower pace. Attitude from here to there and back again, full of energy and words that never seem to stop tumbling out. Sometimes all I wish for is a minute of peace and quiet, then when I finally get it, I can’t wait for her to wake up or come home so I can hear what she’s thinking about again. It might be monsters. Or hotdogs. Or Dora. You never know with my muffin.

No longer do we have the simple debates regarding temperature of the bottle or what brand of diapers to buy. Now, we have to discuss the “real” stuff like what preschool to send her to. Is it important for her to learn at the age of three or to play for another year? Is she really smarter than the average kid, or is it just because love makes you blind? Or, what is the best way to discipline her. I don’t want to break her spirit, but at what point will she learn to use utensils properly? I can’t handle her feeding herself with her hands for much longer!

I think the hardest thing for me is going to be the realization that she’s her own person now. I’ve had a doll to play with, but that doll is starting to have her own likes and dislikes and she makes them known! At night, I can still put her to bed and she’ll stay put and listen to stories and songs as long as I can perform. But one night, she’ll be too big for backrubs and the Itsy Bitsy Spider. She’s already starting to direct the performance. It’s her choice what books we read, how many, what songs we sing, what order. I can only hope my final curtain call doesn’t come for years and years.

I still feel a pang of jealousy when I hear others talk about their weekends with friends and food and liquor and concerts and the beach and bikinis. But, then I realize that they didn’t get to spend 07/07/07 – the luckiest day – watching Emily finally conquer the “big kids” tunnel at Chuck E Cheese and they totally missed the smile on her face as she emerged at the end, 20 feet up in the air, and they didn’t get to hear her yell “Momma, I did it!” That one was mine. All mine.
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