December (thus far) in Pictures

Our attempt at a Christmas card photo, taken on Thanksgiving. Our posed shots never work. The Husband looks drugged.



This is a whole series I took of the girls while we were waiting for the Christmas parade to start. Once again, we did not purposely coordinate their outfits, but I swear they look like they're in the middle of a professional photo shoot here.





This is the first year we didn't have massive Santa Anxiety. She wouldn't talk...she had her fingers in her mouth the whole time...but she seemed happy about it!

My Advent calendar! I didn't have the magnets on the backs yet when I took this photo, but it's on my fridge now. See all those perfect little letters? Cut out of silver cardstock with what is one of the best gifts I've ever received: A Silhouette digital paper cutter. Man, I love that thing. So, the Adventivities are written on little slips of paper inside the tins, but you could put chocolate in there, too, or even little tiny gifts or ornaments.


This is the giant snowflake I made out of paint stirrers and popsicle sticks and hung on my front door. The Husband's coat caught on it and broke some of the pieces off. Which the dog promptly ate. So right now it's on my dining room table, but I have spare parts, so I think I can repair it.


This is what happens when you let a three-year-old "dust" the cookies with sugar.

My FAVORITE Christmas food! Clementines make me so happy.

This is meant to serve as photographic evidence that I got her into at least ONE of the six holiday dresses she has. She's on an anti-dress kick, though I may have finally figured out how to thwart her: I think it's the tights she hates, not so much the dresses. I need to stock up on leggings.

Naptime on the couch. I love sleeping kiddos.


Please make special note of the coconut snow, the caramel chimney, and the cinnamon firewood. And that's supposed to be a sled that the giant snowman is riding, though, proportionally, it looks more like a flatbed. I dig it.

October in a Pictoral Nutshell.

This is going to be a post of few words and many pictures. Many of these pictures aren't even mine. Thank Scarlet and Ouiser and whomever else I may have stolen from via Facebook. The words are mine, though, I swear. That may, however, be nothing to brag about.

Buffalo. Wonderland's wedding reception. Heartwarming.












Austin (including Eagles and Norah Jones at ACL. Though clearly not pictured here.).





Sacramento. And Cocoa.



And Wawa.



Gentry Farms. Pumpkins. Sheep. Corn. Hayrides with no hay.






Halloween! That bag lit up from the inside with glow sticks. The phenomenon did not photograph well, but it was cool.




Third birthday sneak preview.




Random. Because, really...70s gym shorts, rainbow striped knee high socks, and a Colgate hoodie. I don't think I need another reason.

Pew!

The Husband has just regaled me with a story of about five minutes ago, when he went on to check on the Lilliputian who was supposed to be sleeping but was instead up and calling out for us.

The Husband: What do you need Baby Girl?
Lilliputian: I need my blankie.
TH: But you have a blanket...?
L: No, I need to HOLD a blanket.
TH: Oh, well, here...here's your pink blanket.
L: No! It's dirty! It has *****
TH: It has...trash? No, it doesn't, baby...?
L: No, it has gas.
TH: Your blanket has...gas?!?
L: Yes. It's dirty.

At which point he apparently gave up and offered her a different blanket. The offending blanket will get a stern talking to about manners in the morning.

Happy Easter!

This was the first Easter the Liliputian actually had any clue what was going on. She had no idea what the big fuss was with the eggs until I pulled the first one out. Then she was all in. Including for the eating of the hard-boiled colored eggs.

Saturday we went to the local botanical gardens for an egg hunt, face-painting, balloon animals, crafts, children's concerts, and sno-cones. We also stopped by the toy store to pet and hold some live bunnies.







Sunday we had lunch and another egg hunt with the Ouisers and their family. I swear, we did not coordinate the dresses. Great minds just can't help but think alike.

The Other Benjamin

The other night, the Liliputian was in bed for the night, but woke up yelling that she had to go potty. This happens frequently as she becomes more aware of needing to go, even when sleeping, and as we continue not to cut off the milk consumption at night (she's had it just before sleep her entire life! I'm just not ready to tear her away from that routine).

The thing is, I was watching LOST, and the Husband was in his office with his headphones on, so I don't think we heard her for a while. This is a suspicion given more veracity by the fact that, when I finally heard her and went in there, she said, "Mommy, I use my voice SO loud, but you not hear with your ears!" I said, "I know, honey, I'm sorry. I was watching tv and I didn't hear you." "Ohhhhh!" she says, in that voice that implies that I've just explained the mystery of the universe. "Mommy, you watching Benjamin Bunny?" *heart melty* "No, honey. Not exactly."

Spring

It was about 60 degrees out yesterday. We aborted a plan for the science museum in lieu of brunch in Nashville followed by an afternoon in Dragon Park.


We had bacon, toast, and eggs....


...we conquered fears...


...we slid down slides...

...conquered big girl swings...



...choo-chooed through tunnels...

Hope spring comes your way, too, soon.

As Reported to Me this Morning

the Husband: Liliputian, you need help with that sticker? *reaches for sticker*
Liliputian: No, Swiper! No swiping! *turns back on the Husband*
(Only those of you fluent in Dora the Explorer are gonna get that one.)

Liliputian: Humpy Dumpy sat on wall. Humpy Dumpy have great fall.
the Husband: Something, something, couldn't put Humpty together again.
Liliputian: *stares at the Husband* .....Need Mommy help. *nods*

Liliputian: Daddy's gonna buy you a billy goat... If that billy goat not pull, Daddy's gonna buy you a billy goat. And if that billy goat not pull, Daddy's gonna buy you a billy goat. And if that billy goat not pull, Daddy's gonna buy you a billy goat. And if that billy goat not pull, Daddy's gonna buy you a
the Husband: CART AND BULL!!!
Together: And if that cart and bull fall over, Daddy's gonna buy you a
Lilliputian: Billy goat. And if that billy goat not pull.. *continue ad nauseum*

She's just awesome. :)

You'll All Know the Cause When I Finally Go Postal

Many of you know that the Papoose's surgery scheduled for last Wednesday was rescheduled for the next day, then canceled and rescheduled for today, and that today didn't happen either.

We got up at 4:45 am, as planned, got on the road with the poor, sleepy, whimpering girl at 5, arrived at the surgery center at 6:05, only to be told that they couldn't "find her on the schedule." The receptionist made a bunch of phone calls while we sat in the waiting room for nearly and hour with our daughter crying and screaming for mum-mums, until the receptionist told us she'd called the surgeon's office and they didn't have us on the schedule. She sent us home and said we'd have to reschedule. There was much breaking down on the way home on my part. The Papoose was just happy to drink her milk, finally.

After we got home, before we got her off to school, the liaison from the surgeon's office (not the surgery center) called the Husband and was like, "Um...did you forget something?" And he was all, 'Um...NO, did YOU?!?' and explained what happened. So, the woman from the surgeon's office was like, "WHAT?!?! Dr. Christoferson's standing in the operating room right now, scrubbed in, and the anesthesiologist's team is all geared up."

Somewhat satisfyingly, she was all kinds of indignant on our behalf, made some phone calls and called us back. She said it was very much on the schedule everywhere EXCEPT at the surgery center, for some reason, and someone there must have somehow deleted it from their schedule. So, it somewhat soothes me that it's not the fault of the surgeon's office again (though, seriously, how many clowns are involved in this procedure?), but I am IRATE that as the woman at the surgery center obviously LIED to me about having spoken to someone at the doctor's office and told me it was their fault, I teared up, saying something about this being the FOURTH time and WTF happened?, and she was all sweetly, "I'm sorry, hon" and I was all, "No, it's NOT YOUR FAULT." BUT IT TOTALLY WAS!!!

FML.

Anyway, we're rescheduled for tomorrow morning. Send every positive thought you have, please! My nerves are shot.

It's Like a Greek Tragedy over Here with the Knees

So, every day's not working thus far. In my defense, I've worked all three days that the Papoose has been at day care this week. And I REALLY need to be cleaning house in preparation of my brother-in-law's arrival tomorrow morning. He's flying in for the weekend to help the Husband with the kitchen remodeling. Is that sweet or what? We like him.

In the meantime, we seem to have triggered mass hysteria with our overly brief mentions via Facebook and email of the Papoosekin's pending knee surgery, so let me lay it all out with some bullet points lest our friends and family make their way here to lynch us on the grounds of incomplete detail-sharing.

• The Papoose's knees have snapped, crackled, and popped since she was a newborn. I seriously remember her being weeks old and us commenting on how her knees sounded like mine already - all loose cartilage and crap. We probably should have mentioned that to someone earlier, but we were dealing with other things that seemed more important at the time, like, you know, jaundice and feeding her through effing tubes and her lack of weight gain and my PPD and Hey! Let's move across the country! You know, that stuff.
• This past fall, we started hearing the popping more and kept catching her popping the knee herself, like, as a fidgeting motion, over and over and over. Luckily, the Husband's father is a retired pediatric orthopedic surgeon AND he happened to be visiting for Thanksgiving.
• He examined her while he was here and suspected a discoid meniscus. Now, for all of you who are reading the word "meniscus" and remembering my surgeries from almost ten years ago, yes, same part of the knee. Mine was torn. Hers has too much cartilage: instead of being c-shaped, hers is solid. This is preventing the bones from sitting properly in their little space and causing them to slide and twist and pop out of position.
• She had an MRI last week. It sucked. It's very scary to see your baby in a hospital gown. It's even scarier to see her with an IV in her hand. And oh! It's LOTS of fun to have her go limp and unconscious in your arms as they sedate her, and have to leave her tiny body on that huge MRI table, surrounded by half a dozen adults in white coats and have to exit the room for an hour and a half.
• I also realize that in the grand scheme of things, this is NOTHING. It's fixable. We are truly blessed if this is the biggest health challenge we have to face with her. I know that very well; I work in a hospital. But still. It's my baby.
• So, the MRI showed that there is now a tear in the meniscus, so it's going to get worse if they don't operate. Also, when it pops, she falls, and that's happening more and more, and resulting in secondary injuries (minor, but still, a busted lip here, a banged head there, it's no fun). We don't think she's in any pain.
• The surgery will be Wednesday. It will be arthroscopic, just like mine were. We expect to be stuck on the couch with her for about a week. Like with my surgeries, she will be weight-bearing, so it's just a matter of when she feels ready to walk on it. I can't find much online in terms of suggestions for dealing with post-op toddlers other than that now is not the time to worry about how much tv or sugar they're getting.
• The Husband will be granted some time off work, too, so it won't be me stuck with what's sure to be so much fun in dealing with toddler pain management and entertainment all week. Still. It's gonna blow.
• Please don't tell me that it's good that she's so young because she won't remember it. I remember having to have knee surgery. It wasn't traumatizing; I could talk her through the scary parts if she wasn't two. If you have any ideas on how to explain to a two-year-old why she can't run and jump and play and climb and get out of the g-d house for a week THAT would be information I'd be interested in hearing because THAT'S the major problem. That, and why she's in so much pain and why mommy can't fix it.
  

FML. I'm just sayin'.

Howdy

Holy cow, November! Hi! So...I thought I was back in the blogging world, and then...well, October kind of got away from me. The way a raging bull on a shoestring leash would get away from me. There is so much I need to talk about here that I'm almost too intimidated to even start. So, let's just go with some distractingly cute pics of the Papoose from Halloween and call it a day.



She was a cowgirl, of course, since the Earth revolves around all things "horsie." No, I did not make the skirt, but I did make the vest. And I was extra proud of myself for totally winging it with the vest...no pattern, no plan, no trip to the fabric store. It fit perfectly and totally made the outfit. She wouldn't wear a cowgirl hat, but she was wearing cowgirl boots. And she had a horse, she just refused to carry it.



Oh, and the green frosting? Wasn't aware of it until I saw the pictures. The pink nose? Leftover face paint from a Halloween party at Verizon that morning where they painted her as a cat. Cute, but she later looked like she had a cold!

I'm pretty sure this was the only time she held Biscuit, the horse, all night. It mostly rode, inexplicably, inside Mr. Ouiser's shirt all night. Don't ask me; you'll have to take that one up with the Ouisers.

A good shot of the back of the vest.





Another good shot of the back.

We handed out candy across the street at our friends', Ouiser's aunt's, house for a while before trick-or-treating around our neighborhood with the Ouisers. The Papoose gave some candy out herself, after much pep-talking. She very clearly wanted to do it, but when confronted with a big kid right in her face...well, we were proud of her.

Our neighborhood is a MAD. HOUSE. on Halloween. It was last year, too. Like no place else I have ever seen in all my 31 years of Halloweening. It's probably the nicest, safest neighborhood in our area, so I understand why, but criminey. I bought even more candy than last year and we still ran out. The Papoose learned to say "Trick or treat" by the third or fourth house, and also said "Thank you" and "Bye-bye" with minimal prompting.

After we put the girls to bed, the Husband and I and Mr. Ouiser hung out by the fire pit at the aunt's house for a while, relaxing and talking. It was great. That fire pit is great. It has a chimney so you don't smell too much like campfire afterwards and it's just perfect for pulling some chairs up to, roasting some hot dogs, and having some drinks.

The only thing missing was costumes for me and the Husband. Dude, I just CANNOT get the Papoose's costume and birthday party AND costumes for us planned all at the same time. But after three years of no Halloween parties to go to and no costumes for us, I'm done. Mark my words, next year, I MAY throw my own party, and we WILL have costumes because I WILL start planning earlier. Consider that my Feast of Samhain resolution. (Is that the right feast for this time of year? Dad?)