Growing up: cupcakes, rainbows, asbestos, and Annabelle

Zoë is now three years old. My friends have warned that three is a tricky age, but so far so good. Well, almost. The days leading up to and including the birthday were a little ... icky. Actually, let's go back to the birthday party, which was actually the weekend before (Feb 11).

Zoë had a party at a music center, with her buddies from school and a very nice music instructor, Sherri, who chose Zoë's favorite music -- songs about trains, "Roy G. Biv" about rainbows, and old classics like "Hokey Pokey". Only... after a relatively calm (read: boring!) Winter, the weather on this random Saturday in February decided to entertain us with all heaven had to offer: snow, ice, sleet, ... all offered in dark, pelting fashion at exactly the time that Zoë's party was supposed to begin. So... things did not go exactly as planned.

The biggest lessons I have learned in parenting: 1. Make plans, or you are sure to fail. 2. Always expect plans will be demolished in the most unexpected ways. Hey-- I can't complain that life isn't spontaneous and interesting! Anyway, about half the guests made it and all had fun, ate cupcakes, and made music. See the pictures here (press play to see the whole slideshow! There are a couple of videos too. The pictures aren't great because of the flurry of activity and low light conditions -- again, I blame the weather!))

Upon returning from the successful party, we find an email awaiting us at home. Zoë's school will be closed on Monday because someone drilled in a ceiling tile where they were not supposed to and ... now there was asbestos exposure and the clean up and testing would close the center for the weekend and Monday too. Well... embracing spontaneity, Zoë and I spend the morning back at the MusiKids center -- since their open play was on Monday morning, we had never been here (besides for her birthday party) and here was a shining opportunity. In anticipation of turning three (as we were informed, "3" is almost grown up and Zoë is almost as big as us, we are "4", after all. Eh... who's counting those extra 30 years anyway?), she put her coat on by herself... as you can see here, we are still mastering some of our skills before becoming totally independent. Kudos for trying! We had a super time with bubbles, and meeting new friends, and climbing and silly time. As for work... Daddy came home in the afternoon and Mommy practiced super-efficiency.
Then, Zoë's birthday and Valentine's Day: cupcakes are ready for school party, but Zoë is lying on the floor saying that she doesn't want to go to school. Of course! It's because Mom was so much fun yesterday, right? Well... after checking all body parts, nothing seemed amiss, except general lacklusterness. I was reluctant, but decided, maybe she needed a bit more sleep. But... in about an hour, she was burning with 104 degree fever. Hmmm... off to the Dr. and the rest is too sad for documenting here among her well-wishers. As I like to put it, we spent this day much like her first one on this Earth -- Mom and Dad worrying for her health, lots of snuggling and cuddling, and sleeping and resting. With the gift of Tylenol, we managed a sad-ish birthday celebration complete with homemade cupcakes (those never made it to school after all) and payesh (yup, somewhere in this weekend, I managed to made a yummy batch of this!), candles and gift opening. Plans 400-410 for this day out the window...(somewhere in that was some silly New Year's resolution about "cutting back on sweets"... someone had to eat the cupcakes and pudding and make space on the counter and in the fridge! Matt helped too.)

This is getting to be a long birthday post, but wait! The story has a happy ending, no fear. Zoë's school came through asbestos-free, Zoë recovered fever-free (and soon enough, Mom and Dad through stages made it too through their respective illnesses-- damn Global warming and the crazy weather. Hello Daffodils... shouldn't you still be sleeping? Go away Cheery Blossoms-- not yet, I say! Oh look, it's hailing now. sigh.)
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Matt and I have been compiling our favorite random Zoë-isms... today alone, there were two gems (you can't make this sort of thing up!) --

1. Annabelle, author extraordinaire:

Z: Choo- choo baby needs to make a card for Annabelle.

Me: Who's Annabelle?

Z: She's the Children's book author.

Me: (feeling awfully out of the loop... yikes, how did I miss this great celebrity?)Oh yeah? What did she write?

Z: Oh. She writes about Choo choo baby.

Me: (slap head with palm... right! How could I forget?! The imaginary author... that Zoë, the wise, worldly, and well-read three year old, invented over breakfast this fine day...) Aha! hmmm... I can't remember the name of her book. What was it again?

Z: (with some attitude, if I might add)Welllll... Car and Bus -- that's the name.

How silly of me to forget... the adventurous Choo choo baby explores the world in car and bus, but of course. Naturally.
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2. Later, as we are getting ready to nap, Mommy and Zoë are being affectionate.

Me: Zoë, have a good nap and I love you.

Z: (patting Mommy's face gently)Yes, I love you too. Always remember to love yourself.

Me: Wow. That's really nice. Who taught you that? Did someone say this to you?

Z: (And I know this will be shocking to all of you... )Choo choo baby.

I really need to start writing up these stories in a book. Adventures of Zoë and Choo choo baby., my pseudonym would be... Annabelle.

Dealing with a sick toddler...

... is like hostage negotiation (or so I imagine).

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Loud crying... "I WANT SGHSKGOWG"

"Zoë, when you cry like that I can't tell what you want. I need you to stop crying and clearly state your demands."

"NOoooooooo... " Escalating volume of crying.

"I am leaving the room until you stop crying. I will not negotiate with a loud cry baby. We will talk when you calm down." (Help! I need reinforcements.)

"BAHHhhhhhh... I WANT lsbjsdgbksgbslkgjb, MOMMY, NOWWWWWW"

"What? You want juice? Until you stop screaming and step away from the mirror, I can't talk with you."

"NOOOOOOOO." Wild thrashing and dangerous, erratic movements. Keep head down, go for the tackle. Deposit screaming two-year old in safe crib. Run.

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So went the afternoon. Finally, I got her settled and down for her nap. We call that a win-win situation. Now I need a nap.

July Part 2: A Very un-Happy Birthday and Other Tales

Here's the next installment in our most recent debacles. The title above should actually read: "Other Tales and a very un-Happy Birthday", since that will be order of discussion... (in case you care for an outline. How very scientific of me, I know...)

I start with a "Zoë is growing up" story. The first (of many, I suspect) Zoë versus Mom episode(s). We didn't do the whole sleep training thing. Zoë sleeps in our bed, we transfer her to her crib -- we sleep better without fighting her and she sleeps better too. But, this particular Friday night Zoë threw a fuss when transferring her to her crib. Back to letting her fall asleep in our bed, ... transferring her. Again, a fight. This pattern continued 3 times until it was 1am-- 3 hours after she first went to sleep. Finally, I had it. She's old enough now to understand that her bed is the crib and that there are boundaries. She's also simply too big to sleep in our bed with us, comfortably. And... it is a Friday night, so if there's ever a time to lay down the law, this is the time. So... I embark upon the battle of wills.

It is epic, it is fierce, it ends with Mom winning the battle. I will not relive it all here and now. However, here are some highlights:

• There was some rationalizing: "Zoë, you are old enough to sleep in your crib now without much fuss. We still love you. A lot of people love you a lot... (list of names), but you can't sleep in our bed anymore. You are a big girl. And when you wake up, you will see moon -- but even moon is sleeping now. So it's best if we all sleep soon." (Sadly, by the end of this process, both moon and Sun were on the brink of rising).
  
• Zoë understood all this. She nodded. She pointed at the window. "Moon", she said. More nodding. Less sobbing. She pointed at Daddy, "Dadda" she said (who, by the way, was snoring blissfully at this point. HOW???). She pointed at me, "Mama". She pointed at herself, "Zozo". There was complete understanding ... until "WAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!" when I put her back into her crib. Lots of kicking, lots of screaming, lots of thrashing. All understanding undone. Back to square one.
  
• At one point, I found myself saying: "Zoë, I know you are stubborn. But you didn't get that trait from your father. Cry all you want. Scream all you want. But this time, I will out-stubborn you. So there!"
  
• The statement above was made with me kneeling on the floor, arms dangling over the crib railing. How ironic that while I was not granted any sleep, my arms were fast asleep, now throbbing from the numbness. Sigh.
  
• Patting, bursts of screams, more patting, lots of shushing... for ~2 hours. Sleep. My armpits hurt, but sweet sweet sleep at last.
  

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We have joined a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) for fresh produce for the summer. Every Tuesday, we pick up a grocery bag full of farm-fresh produce that is grown biodynamically to be the healthiest and with the least negative environmental impact. Zoë enjoys cleaning and learning about her food too! Here, you see her playing with the garlic, whose stalk is taller than she!

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WARNING: Like Lemony Snicket, I warn you and possibly discourage you from reading any farther if self-pity and tales of woe deeply depress you.

So, ten years married and 32 years on this Earth... and yet, the momentous day started with poor Zoë puking on poor me (aka, birthday girl). Zoë's school had an outbreak of Hand Foot and Mouth, which is NOT Foot and Mouth (despite the creative naming similarities). In this case, the name comes from the outbreak of blisters on the hand, foot and mouth (see here). The main concern with the disease is that the mouth blisters become so painful that children will stop eating or drinking and will become weak and dehydrated over the week long healing process. Zoë didn't have any of the symptoms except a few blisters on her heel and maybe a few on her hand. With the recent mosquito bites it was hard to tell definitively anyway (bonus: she can now say "bug bite!").

Other than throwing up, she did have a slight fever a few days earlier, and just seemed a little tired in general -- poor Zoë was missing her usual sparkle. When I called the school to share the news, the director told me that in addition (ooh! how exciting!) to this Hand Foot and Mouth, the school also had a recent confirmed case of Roseola. Back to the internet to research this one. Roseola has symptoms of incredibly high fevers (like >104 degrees F!) followed by a full body rash. Zoë's fever was much milder... but on close inspection, she was covered by small dots! Super.

Next: call the Doctor to make an appt. Followed by the call to cancel the appointment at Vidalia, the much anticipated restaurant where I was supposed to enjoy a nice birthday lunch with my husband. "Is this how birthdays go for grown-ups?" I think... closely followed by thoughts of worry and concern and "what if's" -- after all, we have had > 6 months of near-constant barrage of illness and none of us had any immunity left to fight another aggressive illness. Now what?

The Dr. barely walked five feet into the room and declared: "Roseola. Classic case." He then checked her temperature, ears, throat, ... I asked him to look at the blisters on the heel: "Are these also related to the Roseola?" He looked a little surprised and said that that was probably Hand footh and mouth. SHE'S GOT BOTH?!?? "Yup! They are different viruses, so no reason she can't have both" and that was that. He made it sound like I should be thrilled that she was chosen by the germ Gods to bestow both illnesses (mis-directed birthday gifts, perhaps?) upon our lucky little one-- Is that like having your birthday cake and eating it too? Luckily(if that's the right word-- silver lining outlook...!) she appeared to have a mild case of both SIMULTANEOUSLY.


Unlike Alice's very happy unbirthday, this birthday was my very unhappy birthday-- a backward day. You know? Where good is bad... and in kind, my birthday this year would instead be celebrated on July 21st. I started a list of 32 reasons that this birthday sucked (the self-pity oddly made me feel much better), but just at the moment that I got to #23 (note: that is 32 backward!!!) Stephanie wished me a happy day and gave me several reasons that I should feel good about myself and my special day. I received birthday wishes throughout the day and I realized that I did have many blessings to count. I did make it to Vidalia. Zoë is better and stronger now. This year I got the best gift of all-- I got a do-over. Two birthdays, two chances to appreciate my life, my family, my friends and our health, two opportunities to gain wisdom and perspective in this often too hurried life. And, my wonderful, supportive husband brought home a cake worthy of pictures, memories, and a few extra pounds.