One down...two to go...

Ellie had Election Day off, so she came to work with me. I took her to the bathroom, as you need a key to get in. As she's standing there, drying off her hands, she says, "Mom...I mean, I know what a napkin is, but what's a tampon?" Ahhhh...the question I've been dreading. I said to her that we could talk about it in the car. Her response: "Why? Is it something bad?" (Ellie, always afraid of the worst...) I thought, "Well, we've got to go back to my office, go down the elevator, walk to the car...maybe she'll forget." No such luck. As soon as the door on the van closed, she said, "So what is it?"

And so I launched into it. Told her first that I needed to give her a little background info. Talked about eggs, ovaries, fallopian tubes, uterus and blood. I think I did a darn good job, honestly. No talk of the male role in making babies yet, but at the end, I said, "So do you have any questions?" No questions. (She was probably in stunned silence.) Knowing Ellie, I think this will come up again in the next few days, if not weeks.

Costume

Yesterday, Lauren and Erin had school pictures, both individual and sibling pictures. I went to the mall on Tuesday and found these really cute shirts at Gymboree: cream-colored long-sleeved shirts saying "big sister" and "little sister" in fall colors. Since Lauren likes skirts (and rarely gets anything new), I splurged and got her the skirt and matching tights which had the same fall colors in leaves decorating the sides of the tights. Typical Gymboree cute. Picked up leggings for Erin. All told, the bill for these items was about $70, certainly a splurge.

I bring them home, and show them to Lauren. Less than thrilled would've been an understatement. She said she wasn't going to wear the shirt, I said she was, she said she wasn't...you get the picture. She said she wanted to wear what she wore last year. I told her that it wasn't an option, she was wearing the shirt, but she could wear jeans if she wanted. (I knew you wouldn't be able to see below the shirts in the pictures anyway...) She finally relented with this comment: "I guess I'll wear that costume you bought me..."

Costume. An outfit from Gymboree she calls a costume. The fact that, at 4, she mocked the clothes I bought her as a costume. (I, however, am $40 richer since I returned the skirt, tights and leggings...)

Poison Control, Take 2

A few years back, I made my 1st call to poison control when I walked in on Lauren, who had taken her diaper off and had a dirty face, if you know what I mean. Yesterday, I made my 2nd call...

I was sitting on the sofa helping Ellie with her homework, and Erin yapped something at me and wandered upstairs. A few minutes later, I heard water running. Thinking she had turned the tub on, as she likes to do at bathtime, I ran upstairs and headed into the girls' bathroom, where the light was on. Spun right, toward the tub...no Erin. Turned left and there she was: standing on the stool and brushing her teeth with the flouride toothpaste. Lots of it. It was on her shirt, and boy was her breath minty! I looked at the bottle (Colgate Pop Stars) and there was quite a bit missing. I looked at the back of the bottle...something about if more than a normal brushing amount was ingested, contact Poison Control.

Lesson learned...a child would need to ingest about 3/4 of an adult tube of toothpaste for there to be a problem. I was told to give her some milk as she might get an upset stomach. No sign of that...

However, that leads me to a follow-up of the story...

So, this morning, Erin does #2 and tells me she needs a diaper change, as she now likes to be changed immediately when that's in her diaper. So I change her, and let me say...it was a very odd color and consistency -- don't know if that was flouride-related or not. I put a clean diaper on her and send her on her way. She goes downstairs and starts to cry. "My bottom hurts...I need cream..." I'm kinda confused by this, as I had just changed her and saw no irritation. So I confirm with her. "Your bottom hurts? You need cream?" She says yes, so I tell her to lay down and I go to get the cream. I come down, take off her diaper, and there, sticking out of her girl parts, is the plastic "T" that is a result of cutting a tag off of clothing -- the plastic that holds the tags to, in this case, socks. She was fine, once I removed the impaling object. :-) Don't know how that got there.

Erin's visit to the opthamologist

So, I took Erin to the opthamologist this morning...Lauren tagged along as I would drop them off to school afterwards. It's been about 6 mos. since Erin's last appt. -- of course, she's such a different person than she was then. We get there, and instead of sitting on my lap as she usually does, she insisted on sitting in the chair alone. Dr. Tong gives her the typical examination -- following little rubber toys on a light, etc. Then he decides to try an eye test -- for her age, they use pictures instead of letters. The pictures are in black, very plain, kinda like inkblot pictures. "What's this?" he asks her as he shows her a birthday cake (she answers "circle"), duck, horse, truck...then he shows her a picture of an old tabletop phone. I had to tell him that she'd have no idea what that was. Erin hung in there for a bit, but she soon tired of this activity as he covered up one eye at a time to check her vision. Lauren sat quietly through the exam until the point where Dr. Tong asked her "What's this?" and she answered, "Dip. I like carrots with dip." I thought Lauren was going to pee her pants with laughter. And of course Erin, liking the reaction, starts answering every question with random words. It was pretty funny. Outcome? Dr. Tong does think she has weaker vision in her left eye, which would make sense because that is the eye with the astigmatism, however, he wasn't confident enough to change her prescription, and wants to check her again in 6 mos.

Been awhile...

Can't believe it's been a month since I posted...hysteria continues to rain down in our household. We spent a great week in Nags Head the last week of August, and then it was back to school. Ellie has started off 3rd grade really well -- enjoying math, surprisingly. I don't know how long that'll last, but I'm hopeful. Lauren is happily back as a real "older," not the fake one she insisted on being last year. Erin is quite the personality -- from what I hear at school, she gets pushed around quite a bit because she's so little, but she gets right in everyone's face with a pointed finger and the verbal message, "I don't LIKE dat!" She is a force to be reckoned with.

Some random observances:

Lauren's new joke: What do you call cheese that's not yours?
Answer: Nacho cheese

On the drive home from school each day, if the older girls try to talk to me, Erin screams at the top of her lungs, "NO TALK (insert sister's name)!!!! DRIVE!!!" She will do this every single time someone opens their mouth.

Ellie started off the year with girl drama -- she and another classmate don't seem to particularly care for each other (they also know each other from YCamp), and I spent a fair amount of time during the 1st week of school talking to Ellie about how you're not going to like everyone, and everyone is not going to like you. Ellie seemed determined to win this girl over. Sooo Ellie. Things seem to have died down on that front, but I am soooo not looking forward to 3 adolescent girls, especially when you see that kind of stuff trickle down to 7-8 year olds.

Baby carrots, anyone?

So we're all at dinner tonight...chatting, laughing, nothing out of the normal. Out of the blue, Lauren says, "OK." Everyone turns to look at her, and she has a baby carrot hanging out of one nostril. I immediately collapsed into laughter. The whole table was hysterical. How do you even begin to seriously correct that kind of behavior? We have yet to figure it out.

A few minutes later, Erin has been let out of her chair and brings in a current favorite book: Teeth are Not for Biting. (Side note: This book was originally purchased when Lauren was 2 as she was well-known for enjoying a human snack...) This book is part of a series of books with similar titles, such as Hands are Not for Hitting. Lauren suggested a few titles of her own: Bottoms are Not for Sitting on People and Noses are Not for Picking.

We will eventually marry her off. We will eventually marry her off. (repeating)

Riding a Bike

Somehow, I missed the memo to teach your child to ride a bike when they're 4. Apparently, it's completely possible. However, when I see others in the neighborhood going into 4th grade with training wheels, I figured I wasn't behind the curve with this. Heck, you barely see kids out riding at all...

I did, however, think that it was time Ellie learned. I didn't really care if it was something she particularly wanted to learn -- I just think everyone should be able to ride a bike. We got her a new bike last year because she'd outgrown her last bike, and the size she needed didn't even allow training wheels. We were stuck learning how to do this, and I was determined that this is the summer to do it.

Last summer, I picked up a bar at Target called a Balance Buddy -- it's reminiscent of the high bar that was on the back of the old banana seat bikes when I was a kid. I got it out a few weeks back and began to put it on Ellie's bike. Ellie was looking at the marketing blurbs on the cardboard that came with it, and said something like, "Am I going to be able to ride in 15 minutes?" as that's what the marketing said. We talked about marketing, and I said she probably wouldn't be able to that quickly. Took the bike out, and sure enough, by the end of the "session," Ellie had pedaled about 10 ft. independently. Heck, I don't even think she cried! We then didn't ride for a while but got the bike out this past weekend.

Weekend snapshot: Eric -- clothes soaked, running tirelessly behind that bike, giving Ellie pointers. Lauren -- pedaling along on her Disney Princess bike with training wheels, patiently waiting for her turn with the Balance Buddy. Erin -- helmet on her little head as she's riding her big wheel with legs up in the air, enjoying the slope of the court as it makes her travel really fast. Me -- trying to make sure Erin doesn't tip over and crack her head open and Lauren doesn't get hit by a car. Ellie -- crying, yelling, stomping.

Ellie, perfectionist that she is, has convinced herself that after trying for 2 times, she'll never be able to ride a bike. There's no telling her otherwise. Now I must add that I gave her an incentive at the beginning of the summer -- learn how to ride your bike, and I'll buy you the American Girl doll that you want. See, Ellie has so much natural ability that she's yet to really have to work hard to accomplish something. I knew bike riding wouldn't be exceptionally easy for her, and I want her to learn the value of working hard at something and achieving it.

I'd go in to change Erin's diaper, Ellie and Eric come in arguing. Helmet is tossed. They're arguing. I'm refereeing. Or maybe I was out with her, in which case Eric becomes the object of the vents and frustration. It was not particularly fun.

So last night, Eric takes her out and she pedals from one end of the court to the other with extremely minimal help from Eric. I was so excited for her! (Of course, I think she was pretty excited too, but true to form, she didn't let on.) And, of course, she wanted me to immediately order up an American Girl doll, except I reminder her that the deal was pedaling in a loop around the court alone, without someone running behind her -- a real, honest-to-goodness bike ride. She's not there yet, but I bet I'll be $100 poorer in the next week or so. Go Ellie! I always knew you could do it.