Vampire-free zone

Rachel helped make garlic bread last night. She's done it before so I didn't give her exact instructions this time around. I simply handed her the shaker and said, "Put a little of this on each slice."

Apparently she decided it wasn't coming out fast enough and so she turned the lid from the "sprinkle" setting to "pour."

We won't have to worry about vampires for weeks.

Dinosaurs at Breakfast

We had an early morning after a late night, which meant that we had an interesting day—Miriam napped for over two hours and Rachel put herself down for a nap after declaring that she "can't handle this anymore!"

But breakfast was hilarious.

Rachel had made oatmeal for herself  but Miriam wanted to have cereal, specifically she wanted "Rasin Bran—it's Grandpa's cereal!" Rachel then decided she wanted cereal instead of oatmeal and asked if she could change her mind but I told her that she couldn't because she had already fixed herself oatmeal.

"Mom! If you don't let me have cereal right now then I'm not going to be your child!" she threatened.

I just shrugged and told her she still had to finish her oatmeal. I'm pretty sure they don't let four-year-olds sue for emancipation because their mother asks them to eat their oatmeal. Just sayin'...

Later after she had finished her oatmeal and was enjoying a bowl of cereal she turned to me and asked, "Does meat come from plants?"

I thought she said wheat. We were eating cereal after all.

"No. Not wheat. Meat. Where does it come from? Does it come from plants?"

"No. Meat comes from animals," I told her.

"Like dinosaurs?" Rachel asked.

"No. Not like dinosaurs," I said.

Andrew's craziness

This past week has been a little crazy—I, for one, am looking forward to Thanksgiving break. I think it's kind of funny that although my schedule was basically the same as it is every week I still felt the craziness of Andrew's schedule affecting my schedule. It was a little crazy at our house so it's no wonder that our pre-bedtime clean-up took probably three times as long as it usually does.

After a full day of classes on Tuesday, Andrew flew out to Denver, Colorado to interview for the Presidential Management Fellowship. His sweet Aunt Lynnea and Uncle Clark picked him up from the airport and he stayed overnight at their house, which helped keep our expenses down. The interview was on Wednesday afternoon and it went as well as Andrew could tell.

I wonder if she bleeds blue, too...

Last week my mom, Miriam, and I went to see Beauty and the Beast at the local junior high school. There were a couple of girls from my mom's ward in it and a couple of girls from my ward in it and it was certainly fun to see them perform, if nothing else. They had great costumes, too, and the kids really did a fabulous job...but it was a junior high performance, so just keep that in mind.

We left Rachel at home (since she was throwing up) and Miriam was thrilled beyond belief that this time she was the one going to the play while Rachel was the one staying home. That experience we had at the Valley Center Playhouse just about broke her little heart—she came to me the next morning and sniffed, "No can noisy babies watch a show. Meme's not a baby but Meme not can stay at play." It was so sad.

So you can imagine she could not stop talking about how Miriam was getting to go to a play with Naanii and Mommy while Rachel was at home, sick in bed. She loved it.

This week Andrew and I have left the kids home two nights in a row while we've been off at church functions. We had an Elder's Quorum dinner last night, which was fun, and then this evening was the adult session of stake conference. Grandma and Grandpa let the girls stay up both nights to watch a show and have a popcorn party before putting them to bed for us (we're/they're so spoiled).

Tonight, though, Miriam wasn't in bed when we came home. She was downstairs watching football with Grandpa. I went in the bedroom to put some stuff away before going to get her but before I could, Grandma came to get me.

"I have a surprise to show you!" she said, leading us into the girls' room.

She shined a flashlight on Miriam's bed, illuminating what the smell had already told me—Miriam's bed was covered in vomit.

Blue vomit, to be accurate.

And it smelled horribly.

We had had nachos for lunch. Karen had found these BYU tortilla chips at the store—they're blue and white. We figured they were blue corn and white corn chips mixed in the same bag. It wasn't until we started eating them (and noticed each other's blue-tinged lips) that we realized that what we thought were blue corn chips were actually white corn chips dyed a sickening shade of navy blue. I don't know how much dye they had to use to get the chips that colour but it must have been a lot because everything in Miriam's bed was blue.

I think she would have gotten sick even if we hadn't eaten blue chips for lunch though. She was fussy all day...and it's really her turn, isn't it? Rachel's had the stomach flu three separate occasions this month; it's only fair that Miriam would get it now.

Poor Miriam didn't know what hit her. She wandered out of her bedroom, with her hands dripping in goo.

"What's wrong?" asked Grandma.

"I has a booger," she told Grandma, who had already come to examine her hands.

"Oh! That's not a booger!" Grandma said. "You threw up!"

All night long Miriam's been repeating the story—through her bath, through putting on new pyjamas,  through cuddles, through everything.

"I coughed and had a booger. I threw up! Mom! I threw up!"

Having her tell me about it fifty times before I put her back to bed is exactly what I needed to give me a queasy stomach.


Secretly I had wished we would go a full week without having to deal with throw-up but I guess it's a good thing I never voiced that wish or I'd be eating my words right now. And, chances are, if I had to eat my words I'd probably end up vomiting them up later. I have a feeling this stomach bug is just starting the rounds in this household.

(sarcasm) I can hardly wait for my turn (/sarcasm).

Transposition Cypher

When Miriam went down for her nap today, Rachel made a card for one of her primary teachers who sent her a card in the mail telling her what a great job she did on the primary program. She had me help her spell everything and wrote it out just about perfectly.

Can you read it? You kind of have to snake your way through it. Left to right, then right to left, then left to right, then right to left. It's a rudimentary transposition cypher.

Shopping for Free

This morning we were greeted by the season's first real snowfall. While I'm grateful for the novelty of the snow today I don't expect my feelings to remain welcoming all winter long. Chances are winter will wear out its welcome long before spring decides to show up. The girls had fun playing out in the snow for a few minutes, though this morning we were still lacking some snow essentials: boots for Miriam and a hat for Rachel that doesn't feel like it's squishing her brain to smithereens. 

A Hermione Granger Day

Rachel is feeling much better today—she was up a couple of times in the night but not to throw up. Her explosive bodily fluids have moved south, so to speak. But she's much more cheerful and spunky than she was yesterday. 

I braided her hair on Wednesday but we just left them in all day Thursday because she was sick. We took them out this morning and she was thrilled with the results. It helped that Miriam said, "You look like 'Mione!"

"I do! I do look like Hermione!" Rachel beamed. "When it's Halloween will you braid my hair and take it out so I can be Hermione? I look just like her! I don't even look like I'm in our family anymore because I just look so much like Hermione?"

I told her I would braid her hair next year. If she remembers she wanted to be Hermione by then I'll be really surprised because she already decided upon being Little Red Riding Hood and then quickly abandoned that idea in favour of Hermione. The chances of yet another charming character coming along and stealing Rachel's heart in the next eleven months are high.

Outvoted

Apparently I was outvoted on Proposition 1—We Should Have a Good Day Again—because instead of being greeted by happy children this morning I was greeted by a throwing-up Rachel.

Fortunately Miriam assured me that she's happy.

This is round three of the stomach flu, folks. Round three!

A better day

Today was a much better day at our house. So much better, in fact, that I can look back and think it was pleasant, enjoyable and, at times, even humorous.

After breakfast we went visiting teaching, which is always an adventure. At one home we ended up with six kids running around, at another only five. But we did manage to get some discussion in and the children all enjoyed playing together (for the most part).

The afternoon was a jumble of lunchtime, nap time, movie watching, dancing in the living room, and silliness.

Rachel was rather funny today. At dinner we were talking, for some reason, about when she would get to go to college. She's always rushing to be an adult (I don't know why). I told her that college was a long way off—she still had kindergarten and elementary school and middle school and high school before college.

"What's high school?" Rachel asked. "Is it just for Heisses?"

"No," I told her. "It's high school, not Heiss school. It's for everybody."

"Oh," she said, like this was the biggest blow I had ever delivered to her ego.

Ugh

As far as being a parent goes, today certainly didn't rank in my top 100. Rachel woke up grumpy and seemed to only get grumpier as the day progressed. Today it was my turn for the Sunbeam Swap, which meant that she had two friends over to play (the third couldn't come today, which probably was a very, very good thing) after school. Rachel was downright cruel—kicking, hitting, yelling, stealing toys, twisting arms, bossing, etc.

She spent most of the three hours they were over in time out, screaming all the while. 

She screamed about just about anything and everything after they left, too. 

She screamed so much, and so prolongedly, that Miriam didn't end up taking a nap. Or if she did it only lasted for twenty minutes or so. 

So I put the girls to bed early tonight. 

And then Rachel cried from her bed while Miriam pounded on the door. 

Finally I went in there, hastily put Miriam back in bed and hissed at them, "I don't want to hear another peep out of either you!"

I think I would have handled an iffy bedtime a lot better today if I hadn't spent the past 7.5 hours listening to Rachel scream about everything.

For example:

I want to watch a show. I don't want to do the dishes. If you don't read me another story I'm not going to brush my teeth. I don't want to put on my pyjamas. Why did you take away my dinner? I'm still hungry. No! I don't want to finish my cookie. I'm full. I want a snack. Of course I washed my hands! Get me a drink. Where is my blanket? I hit Miriam because she was playing with the toy I wanted to play with. It's not my fault. It's hers. You're a bad mom. Don't laugh at me. I want the pink cup. Open this door right now! Turn my nightgown right side out! Where's my baby Norah? Give me ice water. I don't want to pick up my crayons. I want to watch a movie! That's not fair. It's too hard!

Imagine a continuous stream of that for seven hours (at full blast) accentuated by a bit of foaming at the mouth and flailing of the limbs. Add in one grumpy toddler who missed her afternoon nap. Subtract one father who is in Colorado for an interview. 

Now ask me how my day went...

Fortunately, I haven't heard a peep out of either of them. 

I think that was the first time Rachel was obedient all day. And it was probably a good decision on her part.

I just went to check on them and they're both sleeping like angels. Before 8:00? They really must have been tired!