Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Are We Going To The Liver Walk???

Hi All - My Dear Hubby and I went to the Canadian Liver Foundation's Stroll For Liver on Sunday.  We submitted a team, with a fundraising goal of $1000.  We raised $2010.  Since it was just the two of us, we were pretty happy with this and so very grateful to those who donated.

We took Little Miss, and it was a chilly, rainy June day.  Last year it was hot, so hot.  We wore shorts, sweated, and really just wanted to jump in the nearby beach water.  This year we wore jeans, long sleeve shirts and jackets, and brought umbrellas.  We got wet...very wet.  The nice thing is, Little Miss loves the puddles.  She ran almost the entire route, jumping in each puddle as she went.  She seemed sad between puddles, as if the lack of pools of water were disappointing and sad.  By the end of the route, she (and we) was (were) soaked.  We went inside to warm up, and I changed her wet shirt.  I wished I had dry shoes and pants, as my toes wrinkled into shrivelled prunes.

We bought raffle tickets, and won two (yes 2!!!) prizes.  We won a picnic basket - a really nice insulated bag that would keep both food and drinks cold, as well as a golf foursome.  DH is happy about that - and I may go with him if we find another couple!

This was all on Sunday.  It is now Tuesday.  As I tucked Little Miss into bed, she asked "Can I go to the Liver Walk?"  I replied, "No, the Liver Walk was Sunday - it's over now."

She asked again, "Where's the Liver Walk?"

I replied, "It's over honey, we'll do it again next year."

She said, "Where's the Liver Walk?"

I again replied, "All done, next year."

She asked, "But where is the Liver Walk?"

I said, "Done."

She asked, "But where is it?"

I replied, "Finished, and if you ask again, you don't get to come..."

Best Parent Award please...

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Shopping with my Octopus

Yes.  I am a sucker for punishment.  Now read on.

I am swamped...totally swamped in life these days.  I thought I might have time to deke into the grocery store for a few things before getting Little Miss yesterday but it didn't work out that way.  I needed a few things, so I thought "I'll just get enough to get us through to tomorrow, and come back without her"  What is it they say about the best laid plans???

In we go, and she brings her Baby sister (it's a dolly) and Baby Sister's bottle.  As I get the cart she asks, "Can I walk, Mommy?"  somehow I have gone senile in my old age, because I replied, "Yes as long as you stay close...if you leave my side, you have to ride in the cart."

WHAT?!?!  I know.  That's what you are thinking.

Into the produce section we go, and except for her stepping a bit away from the cart, she did very well.  She named all of the fruit and veggies, and asked what things were.  People going past could hear a wee voice say "Apples, green bananas, yellow bananas, abocado, green pepper, red, pepper, yellow pepper, potatoes" 
"No honey, those are tomatoes, not potatoes"
"Tomatoes, Cantaloupe"
"No, that's a watermelon - this is a cantaloupe."

You get the point - she knows a lot of fruits and veggies so it was cute, and kept her mind occupied. 

As I reached for some green peppers, she gently pushed on the cart, saw that she could make it moved and tried to ram the lady in front of us.  Luckily the lady took a step and I grabbed the cart in the right order to avoid a lawsuit.

The trouble continued in the bread and cereal aisle.  By then I was feeling confident enough to buy a few more things, in hopes that I could hold off on a return trip for a few days.  She began to run away down the aisle.  I told her to come back, and if she didn't she had to ride.  She looked at me in a mocking way.  I began to count...One Two...and back she came, knowing that mommy doesn't mess around with her one two three's.  Baby Sister was placed on her head in the cart.  Then she was placed on top of the tomatoes...smashed on top is a better descriptor of the

We turn to go to the next aisle, and she asks "Can I run?"  I will give my girl credit - when she wants to run and she knows she's probably not allowed, she sometimes asks.  And she sometimes listens when I say no.  "No," I say.  She listened.  For a minute.

We skipped a few aisles - mainly in hops that i could get to the milk and get to the cash before i lost her completely.  In the pickle aisle, we had a near disaster, as she reached for the biggest jar of dill pickles I have ever seen...I got to her just in time to avoid the great pickle explosion.  By this point I had mentioned the idea of riding in the cart no fewer than four times.  Not a good tactic since she probably was rolling her eyes saying "Yeah lady, whatever, I'm FREEEEEE!" in her head.

I bypassed the yogurt and eggs to get through the last aisle quickly.  She did her best to rip the bag of french fries from the cart...I played a small game of tug of war in the cheese section, but I won!  First time for everything!

I lost her as we turned the last corner en route to the checkout.  She saw a display of chocolate bars in a giant plastic display stand.  She began to drum on the display.  Bang, bang, bang.

She then sort of walked a couple of steps, lolling her head like a rag doll.  She asked "Can I sleep on the floor?"


I turn for a second and turn back to find her sprawled on the floor by the checkout, with her hands under her head and her eyes closed.  I counted to two and she ran over to me.

She asked "Can I help?" and I told her that would be great.  As a result, our loaf of bread has five pieces that were inside of her fist while she was helping.  Our milk nearly hit the floor.  One tomato didn't make it.  Our strawberries went FLYING when she grabbed them by the lid...and of course I was too embarrassed to tell the guy I didn't want them, so I picked them all up and bought them.

Then she stepped back, one step, two steps, three steps, all while watching me with a conniving look in her eyes that said "I can do what I want, come and get me, oh, I moved back, come and get me, oh I'm moving again...".  As I stepped forward to get her, she shrieked and ran off.  I knew I was done when I sternly said, "Come back right now or you don't get to come home with me."  Yep. 

Mom of The Year folks. 

I ran to get her since she wasn't at all concerned about living at the grocery store.  I picked her up and placed her in the cart, while she struggled and tried to climb out.  At this point I have one hand on her arm, to at least catch her should she succeed in climbing out, and one hand grabbing bags from the cashier.  at this point she begins to yell "My arm!  You're hurting my arm!"  Everyone turns to stare.  I tell her to sit still and I will let go - I try to let go and she goes right back to her escape effort.  I break out in a sweat as I try to wrestle the bags in the back of the cart while holding her with the other hand, using my toes to get my bank card out and my nose to push the buttons to pay.  Obviously not quite but I may as well have. 

By the time I was walking away, she stops trying to escape and calls out to all in earshot, "Bye!  Have a good day!"

I need a personal shopper!

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Potty Woes

Little Miss is toilet training.  Well...sort of.  When my kiddo was little, I had always been told, "When they are ready, you'll know."  And I did.  One day at almost 3 yrs old, he just started to use the toilet.  Done.

Our wee girl is proving that girls are complicated creatures.  First off, she's had issues with her bowel due to milk allergies/sensitivities since the age of one.  Because of that, she goes through bouts where she cannot poop - by the time she does, it's horrible and painful for her.  As a result, we suspect she may not poop on the toilet until she's twelve.  We decided not to push it.  We offer now and then, and she says yes or no.

Lately, she's begun saying "I have pees" - translation - "I have to go pee."

It's inconsistent, and she is very reluctant refuses to wear big girl panties.  She'll be three in September, and honestly, I don't care if she isn't fully trained until she's almost four.  I am in no hurry, and refuse to traumatize her more than necessary regarding toilet use.  that said, if she doesn't get over her fear in the next year, she won't be able to start school - guess we'll cross that road when it comes.

For now, my wee one can go at her own pace.