Last night Cecelia woke up crying at 1:00 am; then 1:45 am, then 2:30 am, then 2:37 am, then 3:30 am…you get the idea. She’s been coughing like a bear, and I’ve noticed that she’s been tugging on her ear like she’s signaling a base-runner to steal third. Today, Nanny Steph informed us that she doesn’t want to eat and her cough sounds even worse, so Rachelle left work and took her to the doctor’s. After poking and prodding, it was concluded that she has both an upper respiratory infection AND an ear infection.
I’ve tried holding her and bouncing around the house to put her to sleep but it didn’t work. I don’t hear anything coming from the other room so I’m hoping that Rachelle’s magic boobs have put the sleeper hold on her.
My mom is a life-saver. She’s watching for her tomorrow so that Cece doesn’t infect the other kids, which would most likely lead to some outbreak.
Speaking of pandemics, Layla was due to receive her second swine flu vaccination tonight. I took her, and for the most part we had a good time. We went to Cooper Hospital, and upon arriving, the doctor asked if we preferred the nasal spray or the injection. He actually recommended FluMist, which was surprising. Since Layla was given FluMist last time (without side effects) and since she could avoid getting pricked with a needle, I opted for it again.
She calmly sat on my lap until she realized that the nurse just rammed gel up into her sinus cavities and was understandably taken-back by it. She cried and her limbs shot in opposite directions. There was still another dose to go, so I grasped her head and held it still against my chest while the nurse proceeded to inject the fluid once more. Again, Layla tightened up and let out a shriek.
Seconds later, she opened her eyes to find a basket of dum-dums in front of her face. The vein in her forehead disappeared and her complexion went from fiery red back to normal in an instant. “Lollipops, mmmm,” she said.
I wish lollipops had that effect on me.
Layla and Cecelia have a secret language. Layla crouches down so that she’s nose-to-nose, point-blank with Cece’s face, and whispers, “Hi. Hi. Hi, big gurl, Hi.” Cecelia laughs which makes Layla laugh and it’s an adorable cycle.
Then, there’s the morning time (see photo above), when it hits the fan and they collaborate and scream in blood-boiling harmony. Parenting brings about a unique feeling; you know, that feeling of loving a person unconditionally, with every fiber in your body, while simultaneously wanting to grab that same person by their two feet and, after spinning rapidly in a circle six times to build up enough force, letting go to fling them into the woods.
Here’s a photo gallery of some recent pictures.
Layla was in the bathroom with Rachelle this morning while Rachelle was brushing her hair. Rachelle’s stomach started growling loudly since she hadn’t eaten breakfast. Layla, taken back by it, exclaimed:
“Mommy’s pooping!”
Layla calls Cecelia “Easy”, which was derived from her inability to pronounce ‘Cece’. “Where Easy?” “Hi Easy.” Easy, Easy, Easy. On one hand, it’s really cute. On the other hand I hope it’s a nickname she shakes before high school. Nobody wants to be called Easy in high school. “Hey, who’s that girl.” “Oh, she’s Easy.”
Layla and Cecelia’s bedrooms are next to one another. They share a wall. One night, when they were both supposed to be sleeping, Cecelia started crying. Rachelle heard her crying and made her way up the stairs to assess the situation. When she got to Cecelia’s room she heard through the walls, Layla the Concerned Neighbor.
“Easy! Easy! What happened!? Easy, what happened?”
Cecelia should be relieved to know that she has the Town Watch bunking next door.
What’s that noise? Why it’s the sound of me not posting.
I’ll get back into it soon. I’m just hibernating.
Here’s a little something: Yesterday morning, Layla pressed my buttons to the point that I was so mad I almost cried. And the battle was over the fact that I opened her slice of cheese and not her. She’s lucky that she’s 2, and a girl, or it would have been “lights out!”
Sincerely,
The Man Who Has Never Been In a Fight
Last night while at Friendly’s, Rachelle instructed me to take the kids to the car while she paid the check.
After snapping Cecelia’s car seat into its holster and buckling Layla into her seat, I sat in the passenger’s seat. Seconds later, Cecelia let out a shriek which peaked and then leveled off as a steady cry. Layla chanted “Elmo! Elmo! Elmo!” I felt my heart rate speed up, and my underarms began to sweat. I reached for the radio dial to put on the Elmo CD as per Layla’s request.
Cece’s cry grew louder. I glanced through the rear-view mirror, hoping to spot Rachelle. No dice. Layla yelled, “NO ELMO! NO ELMO…,” then it morphed into a desperate cry. No Elmo, it is. I quickly jabbed the radio dial to turn it off, revealing my mounting frustration.
“ELMO, ELMO ELMO!” she exclaimed.
The cries of both children knotted together to form a cluster of audible mayhem. At one point, Layla’s cry peaked when Cece’s cry lulled, and vice versa. It was like the Dueling Banjos from Hell.
Another look into the rear-view, still no Rachelle. As usual when placed in an uncomfortable situation, I took out my cell phone to distract myself.
Ten minutes went by and the cries became loud enough to shake the windows, and my soul.
“Calm down, Jim. It’s going to be fine. Just block it out.”
I rolled my thumb across the Blackberry trackball, aimlessly.
“I can’t block it out.Where is Rachelle? What can they possibly be crying about? I’m not giving into Layla. I don’t know who she thinks she is. God it’s hot in this car. Why is this jacket so tight?”
My scattered thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the driver-side door opening.
“Hey hun. What’s wrong? You look frustrated,” Rachelle said casually.
“I’m just a little warm, that’s all.”
