Several years ago I started taking a tap dancing class. It was something that I always loved doing as a child. Plus it was a really great way to get exercise and have fun. I loved it so much that or a brief summer, I also helped teach the 3-5 year olds tap dancing.
About a month ago I started working with Zoe on tap dancing to see if it was something she would enjoy. As you can imagine, she took to it like she had also already taught a 3-5 year old class.
Last night we went and registered her for summer classes and bought her official tap shoes.
They only came off when I couldn't get her pajamas on over them. I think we have another tap dancer in the family.
This tappin' mamma couldn't be more excited.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
She Even Has a Cape to Prove It
Yesterday Grandma took Zoe to the park to play. While she was in the playground she noticed another little girl who couldn't immediately see her mommy. What did my daughter do?
She jumped up next to the "lost" girl, put her hands on her hips and exclaimed, "Super Zoe, here to save the day. I'll help you find your mommy."
Then she went around to each lady at the playground, put her hands on her hips and said, "I'm Super Zoe. Are you her mommy?"
I think next week we'll work on changing in phone booths.
She jumped up next to the "lost" girl, put her hands on her hips and exclaimed, "Super Zoe, here to save the day. I'll help you find your mommy."
Then she went around to each lady at the playground, put her hands on her hips and said, "I'm Super Zoe. Are you her mommy?"
I think next week we'll work on changing in phone booths.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Quarantined
The last week has been exhausting. We've been running our own hospital wing. Zoe had a stomach bug last Tuesday, which lasted exactly 18 hours. After which she was a ball of energy that only 18 hours of rest can create.
About that time I came down with a sinus infection. I'm not sure what happens to other people when they get one, but I become totally incoherent, confused and a non-member of society. It was like I was in my own world and couldn't get out, despite the fact that I knew I sounded utterly drugged. It's a very odd feeling. It lasted three days since I couldn't get into the doctor right away.
By Friday I was feeling normal, except for the pounding headache. Which is exactly the time Zoe woke up gasping for breath. Nothing will trigger a panic attack than hearing your child unable to breathe. We ran outside to see if that would help and sure enough she was better. We have officially experienced croup.
I'm really hoping this week is better. No headaches, no snot, no coughing and no puking. Here's to health!
About that time I came down with a sinus infection. I'm not sure what happens to other people when they get one, but I become totally incoherent, confused and a non-member of society. It was like I was in my own world and couldn't get out, despite the fact that I knew I sounded utterly drugged. It's a very odd feeling. It lasted three days since I couldn't get into the doctor right away.
By Friday I was feeling normal, except for the pounding headache. Which is exactly the time Zoe woke up gasping for breath. Nothing will trigger a panic attack than hearing your child unable to breathe. We ran outside to see if that would help and sure enough she was better. We have officially experienced croup.
I'm really hoping this week is better. No headaches, no snot, no coughing and no puking. Here's to health!
Friday, June 4, 2010
They're A Rough Crowd
This week Zoe and I have been sick. Tuesday she went to the mall with Grandma and left a present for the next customer outside the Penney's entrance.
Later that evening I started to think I was coming down with strep throat (turns out it was a sinus infection that has laid me flat most of this week). Needless to say, we've been laying low and having loads of cuddles.
When Zoe doesn't feel well, she wants me to sleep with her for a bit at bedtime. She gives me about three inches of space while she sprawls out. Apparently, in my illness, I used up 3.5 inches instead of my given 3. I woke up her pushing me into the wall and back into my space.
I took that as my cue to leave. As I crawled into my bed, I drifted off to sleep, only to be rudely and abruptly awaken to the elbow that was shoved into my eye. When I said "ow, that hurt" all N replied was "shhsh. Be quiet."
Fortunately they both had the deep breathing of REM sleep when they beat me up. Otherwise it would be my turn next!
Later that evening I started to think I was coming down with strep throat (turns out it was a sinus infection that has laid me flat most of this week). Needless to say, we've been laying low and having loads of cuddles.
When Zoe doesn't feel well, she wants me to sleep with her for a bit at bedtime. She gives me about three inches of space while she sprawls out. Apparently, in my illness, I used up 3.5 inches instead of my given 3. I woke up her pushing me into the wall and back into my space.
I took that as my cue to leave. As I crawled into my bed, I drifted off to sleep, only to be rudely and abruptly awaken to the elbow that was shoved into my eye. When I said "ow, that hurt" all N replied was "shhsh. Be quiet."
Fortunately they both had the deep breathing of REM sleep when they beat me up. Otherwise it would be my turn next!
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep
Every night before bed we say prayers with all our girls. We usually go in a circle and each person thanks God for something and says their prayer. D usually thanks God for the day and prays for some school assignment or test. E thanks God for the day and then usually prays for some relationship in her life. I love seeing how each of the girls prays. It gives an insight into their world that we don't usually get to see.
Several weeks ago Zoe was the show-and-tell person at preschool. She took her bear Coco. Ever since that day, her prayer at night as been:
Thank you for Coco. I love her so much and cuddle with her. Amen.
It always brings a smile because she's so sincere in her prayer for Coco.
Lately she's been going impromptu with her prayers. If you want to see the heart of a preschooler, get them to pray. Last night, this was her prayer:
Thank you God for D and E. And D and E, I love them so much. Thank you for my mommy, my daddy and my Zoe. Amen.
Thank you indeed.
Several weeks ago Zoe was the show-and-tell person at preschool. She took her bear Coco. Ever since that day, her prayer at night as been:
Thank you for Coco. I love her so much and cuddle with her. Amen.
It always brings a smile because she's so sincere in her prayer for Coco.
Lately she's been going impromptu with her prayers. If you want to see the heart of a preschooler, get them to pray. Last night, this was her prayer:
Thank you God for D and E. And D and E, I love them so much. Thank you for my mommy, my daddy and my Zoe. Amen.
Thank you indeed.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Remembering
N and I were driving home from church last weekend and we passed a cemetery. I told N that, with Memorial Day coming up, I wanted to make time to go to the cemetery. His immediate response was, "I'll keep Zoe home with me."
I looked at him like he told me he doesn't believe in Santa. Thus began the discussion.
Going to the cemetery wasn't something he did or even does now. Granted I don't believe the going to the cemetery means I'm visiting the souls of my loved ones. I truly believe I'll see some of them again. Going there is just part of my family's tradition. It's an annual trip that was always something I did as a child. It's actually one of the most vivid memories I have of my grandma.
All of my mother's side of the family is at one cemetery. Each Memorial Day my grandma would cut down half-gallon milk containers, cover them with foil, fill them with water and some flowers from her garden. My grandma (who never learned to drive), my mom and I would go to the cemetery and place those milk-carton vases on the headstones of my great-grandparents and an aunt that my grandma lost right after childbirth.
I can remember being in the car, driving to the cemetery and when we hit a certain point prior to entering, the stereo would be turned down and all conversation in the car would get quieter. I'm not entirely sure why we had to be quiet in the car at the cemetery, but I do remember my grandma becoming very somber as if the grief of their loss hit her again. Even today I can tell you where each of the headstones are, even the ones that are a plastic marker that's been covered by decades of grass.
There's a history at the cemetery. Each vase that we placed brought with it a story of the person it remembered. My great-grandpa H was my favorite. He died years before I was born, but the year of his birth and the year of my birth are exactly 100 years. For some reason that bonded me to my unknown relative.
Cemeteries aren't a place of loss for me, even though I'm sure to cry as I remember fond memories of my family. They are a place of remembrance. N still thinks I'm crazy for having fond family memories that take place at a cemetery.
It's the remembering that I love. As I take Zoe to place flowers on my grandparent's grave, I'll tell her about the time that I played doctor with her great-grandpa. Playing doctor is one of her FAVORITE things. As I left the room to get something, he filled the bed pan with water. Upon returning, he told me it needed to be emptied. He got a lecture from a 4 year old me about pretending and not peeing in the PRETEND bed pan.
I can still remember his uncontrollable laughter from doing that to me.
It's one of the greatest gifts my grandma ever gave me. She taught me, even briefly, to take time to enjoy the memory.
I looked at him like he told me he doesn't believe in Santa. Thus began the discussion.
Going to the cemetery wasn't something he did or even does now. Granted I don't believe the going to the cemetery means I'm visiting the souls of my loved ones. I truly believe I'll see some of them again. Going there is just part of my family's tradition. It's an annual trip that was always something I did as a child. It's actually one of the most vivid memories I have of my grandma.
All of my mother's side of the family is at one cemetery. Each Memorial Day my grandma would cut down half-gallon milk containers, cover them with foil, fill them with water and some flowers from her garden. My grandma (who never learned to drive), my mom and I would go to the cemetery and place those milk-carton vases on the headstones of my great-grandparents and an aunt that my grandma lost right after childbirth.
I can remember being in the car, driving to the cemetery and when we hit a certain point prior to entering, the stereo would be turned down and all conversation in the car would get quieter. I'm not entirely sure why we had to be quiet in the car at the cemetery, but I do remember my grandma becoming very somber as if the grief of their loss hit her again. Even today I can tell you where each of the headstones are, even the ones that are a plastic marker that's been covered by decades of grass.
There's a history at the cemetery. Each vase that we placed brought with it a story of the person it remembered. My great-grandpa H was my favorite. He died years before I was born, but the year of his birth and the year of my birth are exactly 100 years. For some reason that bonded me to my unknown relative.
Cemeteries aren't a place of loss for me, even though I'm sure to cry as I remember fond memories of my family. They are a place of remembrance. N still thinks I'm crazy for having fond family memories that take place at a cemetery.
It's the remembering that I love. As I take Zoe to place flowers on my grandparent's grave, I'll tell her about the time that I played doctor with her great-grandpa. Playing doctor is one of her FAVORITE things. As I left the room to get something, he filled the bed pan with water. Upon returning, he told me it needed to be emptied. He got a lecture from a 4 year old me about pretending and not peeing in the PRETEND bed pan.
I can still remember his uncontrollable laughter from doing that to me.
It's one of the greatest gifts my grandma ever gave me. She taught me, even briefly, to take time to enjoy the memory.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
On The Defensive
One of my favorite types of movies is action movies. I like the rom-coms (romantic comedies), but they're not my favorite. They'll do if I mindlessly want to watch TV or it's a girl's night out, but I tend to be a bit cynical to truly enjoy them.
Not to say that action movies are realistic, but there's enough action that it doesn't drag, a bad guy and a "how are we going to catch 'em" problem/solution. Sometimes this is really well done and sometimes it's not, but they are one of my favorite types of movies. Which makes N extremely happy.
Lately I've felt like we're in our own action movie. Granted there's not a villian per se, but there are problems, many moving parts, suspense and solutions that will eventually be revealed. We're dealing with people who have different value systems than we have, different communication styles and quite frankly just frustrate me.
In exactly 24 days N will be starting his new job. He'll be relocating to another town and commuting home on the weekends. That really doesn't change much to my schedule, but it does require us to buy things to get him set-up there. We're not talking little things. Which is needed, but terrifies me at the same time. I have extreme peace that this is where God wants us, I'm just in the middle of the whole action-moving plot. I'm trying to see the next step and get solutions to some of our concerns. I'm trying to see around these people on this path, but they aren't the silent spectator on the sidelines. They're are in our face and beating us down.
I know this will all work out, it always does in the movies. I'm just half-way through this plot and have no idea how we'll succeed. Yet I know this is a path chosen by someone much greater. Even thought I don't know the end, He does.
Not to say that action movies are realistic, but there's enough action that it doesn't drag, a bad guy and a "how are we going to catch 'em" problem/solution. Sometimes this is really well done and sometimes it's not, but they are one of my favorite types of movies. Which makes N extremely happy.
Lately I've felt like we're in our own action movie. Granted there's not a villian per se, but there are problems, many moving parts, suspense and solutions that will eventually be revealed. We're dealing with people who have different value systems than we have, different communication styles and quite frankly just frustrate me.
In exactly 24 days N will be starting his new job. He'll be relocating to another town and commuting home on the weekends. That really doesn't change much to my schedule, but it does require us to buy things to get him set-up there. We're not talking little things. Which is needed, but terrifies me at the same time. I have extreme peace that this is where God wants us, I'm just in the middle of the whole action-moving plot. I'm trying to see the next step and get solutions to some of our concerns. I'm trying to see around these people on this path, but they aren't the silent spectator on the sidelines. They're are in our face and beating us down.
I know this will all work out, it always does in the movies. I'm just half-way through this plot and have no idea how we'll succeed. Yet I know this is a path chosen by someone much greater. Even thought I don't know the end, He does.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)