All the hearts...

Sometimes the pettiness of my daily stresses is just astounding.

Then I read blog that leads to link that leads to blog that leads to link... So many sick kids. So many major health issues in such tiny, precious bodies. So many families rocked to the core and shaken forever by a loss of those chummy fingers, plump cheeks, feathery hair, fanned eyelashes... raised scars, numerous monitors .

The degree to which I'm able to be utterly ungrateful for my own life and its unending blessings on a daily basis is absolutely stunning. :(

Rest, assured

Our new bed is here (well... frame + box spring + MATTRESS).

Do you know what this means?

This means OUR NEW BED IS HERE!

Coincidentally it also means I don't spend extra energy at night trying not to roll into a center of a large broken bed that sounds like a shrieking off-key violin every time one of us takes a breath.

Oh glory.

Wonder Pets

There are moments in time that just crack me up because they're so beautifully unscripted.

Allan is disassembling our old (horribly broken) bed, in order for the Sears delivery guys to set up our new one. Maya is circling the action. I hear random pieces of that conversation, including one of Allan letting her help him carry old wood planks into the garage.

They walk past our (Jack's) room and I hear Maya singing (while holding an end to a long wood plank that Allan is moving): "What's gonna work?! Te-e-e-amwork! What's gonna work?! Te-e-e-amwork!"

You'll know why I cracked up again and again - if you, like us, frequent Nick Jr and are intimately familiar with Wonder Pets. :)

"I come in peace!"

Interrupting regular programming (aka cleaning a VERY dirty kitchen) to record the soundtrack of my Saturday afternoon. Maya is parked next to Jack's Jumperoo with her ginormous Buzz doll she got for *learning to potty* (! separate post here), pushing all of his buttons (literally). Jack's in awe, half-hanging-out of his jump seat, taking it all in.

Where There Is Danger, There Is The Space Ranger!

PS: for reasons not entirely clear to me, Fairy Child just rushed me with a huge smile and a larger-than-life hug: "MAMA-A-A-A!"

Cool, shining moments in a day that has all the promise of being sad (Grandma left this morning).

She likes pink... just not this kind!

My poor butterfly. This week kicked off with a majestic case of pink-eye for her, enough to have to reschedule the photo session (of course, that was the least of her troubles). 3x-day drops and the antibiotic seem to be doing their job and the eyes are recovering OK, but her skin is still rough - patchy, scratched, red, rashy. She's back on Allegra, and this time we're faithful about keeping up with it.

Sister, brother-in-law and my grandma (!) are here, and it's been so utterly great to have them... so much help with entertaining the kids. It's been great to leave Maya home; come back from work to hear about their fun stuff for the day, eat dinner all together... discover another thirty toys that were bought for Maya that day. I think I'm putting out the shiny Yard Sale Here - New Toys!!! sign as soon as visiting spoilers are gone and (about the same time) I realize I can't see my floors anymore.

Theory of rel-eat-ivity

Me: "Goodness, you wouldn't believe how much the boy ate tonight."
Allan: "You're going to notice the difference between how much he eats, and how much Maya does. Boys eat much more."
Me: [pause] "...He eats more than her NOW!"

Grim and grumpy

Rough couple of days on this end. Jack's sick with what started out as another allergy-sufferer case, but now has shown his preference for running mild fever with it, and flaunting a nasty little cough that serves also to ensure he's up at least every hour and a half at night.

This cup, here, flows over. ... Though apparently not enough for me to abandon attempts to document my lack of time/energy/mental capacity/patience, and instead get few precious minutes of sleep. I'm a grumpy hypocrite.

My unspoken, but heart-felt (in a literal sense) prayer is simply that tomorrow's easier, and that Jack feels better.

"Small was feeling grim and grumpy. 'Good grief,"'said Large. 'What is the matter?' 'I'm grim and grumpy,' said little Small, "and I don't think that you love me at all.' 'Oh, Small,' said Large, 'grumpy or not, I'll always love you - no matter what.'"

With him on the changing table, Jack and I discussed the relative merits of his ability to 1) either focus on letter 'D' or 2) comprehensively address his father as DaDa. He handsomely won the argument by peeing on me - really, who can argue with that?

In other news, I continue to be underwhelmed by Maya's allergy medications... while her eyes are at least visible now, her poor skin is still rashy, patchy and dry. My favorite pediatrician advice so far has to do with eye drops, and it goes something like this: "Give her eye drops." ... Really? It's like giving eye drops to an ant - the degree of difficulty is rather similar.

Shrinking Sunday afternoons

Rearranged Jack's nursery today in preparation for family's arrival and imminent need for sleeping space (current thought is that great-Gramma will sleep in Jack's room), and liked it much better. Some feng shui happened, there.

Amidst a decently challenging day with kids (Allan gone attempting to recharge with chess tournament, us home), managed to wash all of his various mats, floor blankets, quilts, and other large articles of cloth he uses to separate himself from the floor. I was particularly grateful for warm and hugely breezy (ahem... understatement) afternoon that had those dry in about seven minutes.

I should probably take a picture of Jack's room tomorrow for it'll be a while before it's this clean again. Heck, just this morning I removed an entire length of a railroad track from there (engine and three railcars included, plus, I believe, random greenery and a station tower). Gifts of the Magi, those are.

Good night, noises everywhere...

"Good night, Maya."

"Mama. Go to bed, OK? And go to potty."

"Umm... OK."