A Flat Day

I had a hair appointment today, something I was quite excited about.  And even though I begged Bailey not to do her snail motion routine today, the one where she moves ultra slow making us late for everything, including watching ice melt, and fights me every step of the moving way, we were running late.  If you can't tell, this gets to me. 

 

And just as we were finally getting out of the driveway, without my cell phone (because I had remembered it needed charged and no matter how hard I look, I cannot find a car charger for the Samsung beat, even the chargers that say they fit ALL Samsung phones), immediately we had troubles. The car was doing things it doesn't normally do and even though signs said clearly, "do not go over lines, wet paint," we had to anyway and I parked the car on a curb, saw a FLAT TIRE, and even though I knew I shouldn't, we went around the block and back into our driveway.  I know I should've parked it since it was COMPLETELY flat, but I didn't.  And I was especially upset I didn't have my cell phone, because I just knew even though it was dead, I was going to need it.

 

This is typical for the 31st of July, or as I commonly refer to it, Harry Potter's Birthday.  Something always goes wrong on Harry Potter's birthday, something terribly wrong.  And although it's just a flat tire for now, it made me cancel my hair appointment I was already 13 minutes late for.  I was really excited about that.  I was going to do it for myself, because although some people wouldn't believe me, I don't do things for myself very often, if ever, and even though I didn't want to, I had to take the munchkin in tow, which was causing me some anxiety since she made us so late I hadn't changed the batteries in her handheld came console and didn't bring it with us.

 

And now here we are, me hiding in the office, trying not to freak out, even though it's hard not to do at this point.  I hate the fact I'm in a complaining mood, but between today and the millions of things I have left to do for this weekend's reunion, things I thought I'd do last night had someone not forced me into going to bed instead, and the horrible toothache I've had since last Friday when I never ever get toothaches, I can't fight this chaos off with a stick like I normally do.  And I'm babbling.  I only babble when I'm really, really stressed out.

 

Once this day is over, I know I'm going to realize that it really was just a flat tire, and that the whole day didn't have to go flat because of it.  But for right now, I'm entitled to think otherwise, after all, that 11:30 hair time was the only one I could get into for today.  Pardon me, I'm done whining, now I must go back to crossing things off of my list.  And if you call me reminding me of my to-do list or asking me anything pertaining to plannning, please be warned:  Today is not the day.

 

Taking Care of Daddy

The three of us were in the living room and I'm not sure any of us were actually paying attention the television except when Bailey sees a commercial and announces, "Daddy needs some of that."

 

And what was it that he needed?

 

Mouthwash.

 

I had a good laugh.

Tiny Dancer

I love my little tiny dancer and this morning as I was washing her hair, I told her she was my favorite dancer to which she replied, "you're not my favorite dancer."

 

Now you can wipe that puzzled expression off your faces because what usually goes on between Bailey and I is that I'll tell her she's my favorite person or whatever other comment comes from my mouth, and she'll respond back with a similar comment.  And well, obviously, I'm certainly no dancer.  Trust me.  So, I asked Miss Bailey who her favorite dancer is, because I was extremely curious by this time and she told me, "Me.  I am."

 

I think great self confidence is worthy of admiration and important for growth.

The Scalping

I was helping Bailey get ready for this morning's ballet camp and she was standing, and I was sitting on the floor getting her footless tights positioned and assisting in the rest of her attire, and she is touching my head for whatever reason.  Then I hear as politely and sincerely as possible, "your scalp is cute."

 

I guess we all have our best features.

 

Spaced Out

Bailey and I were on the go a lot today.  We had a mission to complete, one of epic proportions.  This week is dance camp, so we went to that, and then headed off to do a massive list of errands and the grand finale was to see the movie, Space Chimps, just the two of us.

Maybe it was all of the errands I squished into one afternoon, or maybe it's my five hour or less a night of sleep routine, but I fell asleep during the movie.  Not that it's unusual for me to fall asleep during movies.  Our first date (Daddy and mine) involved such an act.  But there I was, and I must add, it was a nice nap.  And although Bailey caught me once snoozing and her face ended up in mine staring at my eyelids, I played it off well, and immediately crashed again.  It didn't ruin her movie going experience and I'd had a good time sleeping, since I don't do as much of it as I should sometimes.  However, next time I take my daughter out to a movie, I hope to keep my eyes open, even if it requires toothpicks and lots of pain.

But yeah, the movie wasn't so bad.  Bailey recommends it, but it's no WALL*E.  Mommy would never fall asleep during WALL*E.

Keeping Kids Off the Streets

We had the television on and there's this Kid's Bop commercial.  If you have no idea what that is, it's a CD compilation that comes out every five weeks (give or take) and they're on like volume number 3,298 by now (at least that's my guess).  The CDs feature little kids singing whatever pop songs are "in" at the moment.  Pop music has never sounded so good, particularly the breakup ballads.  I'm not making fun of it, really, because it's better for kids to listen to than what's on most radio stations.

 

So, Bailey mentions quite passionately that "they're not supposed to be in the street."  She then went into further details on how those kids were in the middle of the street (and they were, singing their little hip hop songs) and how they're not supposed to do that "are they?" and that they should be on the sidewalks. She's right.  We should try harder to keep kids off the streets.  Perhaps singing pop songs isn't the way to do it.

Man Am I Tired

It was quite the eventful day.  Bailey's circus party went marvelously with very few glitches, if any.  She certainly enjoyed sharing the big day with everyone.  All this morning as we were setting up, she kept asking over and over when everybody was going to get there.  She just couldn't wait to entertain her guests. 

 

But as busy as the day was and as tiring, Bailey never actually took a nap.  It's no secret she's not a napper (and never really has been one), but not even today.  And she didn't go to bed any earlier either.  It wore me out though and I crashed on the couch for a while.  I was one tired Mommy and the Birthday Girl's Big Bash exhausted me, I suppose.

 

For those that came to Bailey's party, I thank you.  She couldn't have been happier with the turn out.  Now it's on to the next event.  I have a family reunion in two weeks to finish planning. 

I Warned You

I believe I had warned you of a possible absence from Daily Bailey blogging life.  The over-the-big-top party is tomorrow, and hopefully that means life will once again resume as it should be.  Of course, it'll take me a while to catch up.  And I know it will since I never did blog about the pirate bash from last year due to all of the excitement.  I plan to be better this year, but well, you know how those things go, especially since I'm planning the family reunion in two weeks.

 

Bailey's over the moon with the party planning.  She can't wait and it's been fun doing this with her, involving her so extensively.  She's also done a lot of the helping.  I must go though.  These things don't plan themselves, you know.

 

Perhaps next year, we really do just themed plates with cake and ice cream.  Yeah, I don't believe it either.

In a few minutes...

Bailey will be FOUR!!!

 

 

 

Whoa...

Spongebob Geography

We were on our way home from Olathe tonight, which is in Kansas, in case you didn't know.  And this conversation got Bailey on where other people live.  Spongebob lives under the sea, which I'm sure you probably have guessed a time or two.  And Sandy the Squirrel is from Texas.  Now, it's absolutely no secret how I loathe the very being that is Spongebob Squarepants, essentially for the lack of educational importance in his Nickelodeon program.  And sadly, this geography lesson, complete with where Patrick Star lives, is about as educational as his show gets, but at least it's something.  At least that's what I'm trying to convince myself at the moment.

The Bump is Back

 

I know a few of you were disturbed by our Memorial Day discovery and I had planned to never show such a thing before, since well, it certainly wasn't something I wanted to see either.  However, it was an ear infection and since she wasn't complaining, it was good that the whole thing was sorted out and it disappeared and her ear was in good health again.

 

Well, I don't know what it is about holidays, but a few days before the Fourth of July, I was working on Bailey's hair (emphasis on the work) and was not happy when I found a bump.  And it was the other ear, but not only was there one bump, there were TWO. 

She went to the doctor on the 2nd and sure enough, there was now an ear infection in the second ear.  The first time, not only was there an ear infection, but it was the whole party, pus and all.  I don't recall knowing those details until Dr. Flint shared them with me.  Dr. Flint had been out of town the last time around and was reading her file.  I was right by the way.  Last time, I had guessed the bump was a lymph node and that doctor had argued with me, and well, I'm not a doctor, so I figured she was correct.  Well, they are lymph nodes, and they're not really supposed to do that, but it's not serious either, as long as her infection was treated.  Dr. Flint couldn't believe Bailey hadn't complained at all.  She commented on what a trooper Bailey was and how strong, and listening to her, it told me she had to have yet another full blown infection. 

Thank goodness for those indicator bumps then.  As creepy and disconcerting as they are to witness, at least they do their job in letting us know there's a problem, because Bailey certainly wasn't telling us.  Not that I'm complaining that she's not a complainer...

 

And I'm not sure if this will redeem myself for all of the photos, but they're getting better again.

Smurfette

 

Not only is Bailey turning four this weekend, but as you can tell, she's also turning blue!

Should we call a doctor to fix these baby blues?  Or should we just never ever allow her to have a blue slushy again?

 

That Explains a Lot

I've never liked Kraft Mac 'n Cheese and I think it's always been the fake powder they call cheese.  I mean, seriously, what's in that stuff?  Well, since it's one of three foods on this planet that Bailey will actually eat, she requested it for lunch yesterday.  I was making the "crescent" kind.  Bailey calls the regular kind that because of the curve in the shape.  And while we were stirring the powder and other essential ingredients in it, Bailey informed me they were tiny little trunks, and those tiny little trunks were actually tiny, tiny creatures.  They explained a lot.  That explained everything.  No wonder I won't eat the stuff.

Bailey's Many Gifts

Bailey's a pretty gifted little girl and I'm not sure if that it's ever been argued otherwise.  Among her many talents, she also is a bit on the spoiled side, but I personally wouldn't use that word to describe her.  I would tend to lean to the "she has everything she needs," side and leave it at that.  Some may argue with that.  No matter how you want to look at it, this past almost four years has been a marvelous gift.

However, this isn't about that.  This is about all of you or those who keep asking me what Miss Bailey would like for her big day.  I've been rather vague (a gift of my own), but I meant it when I said she's into art, science, and dress-up clothes and anything having to do with ballet.

She's absolutely fascinated right now with ballet.  She dresses up every single day.  She writes on any piece of paper she can and her imagination devours any art kit available.  Our frog habitat is our best tool.  And we can spend hours putting a big floor puzzle together just to take it apart again and repeat the whole process.  (The puzzle isn't what takes for hours, it's putting it together, taking it apart, putting it together again and again.)

And the only gift she's currently asking for is this board game called, "Don't Wake Hulk," and she'll clearly tell you the name of it.  It's like the old board game, "Don't Wake Daddy," but with a green muscled monster, instead of a skinny drab chap.  That's it.  That's what she wants.  And since she revealed this after we'd announced we'd completed our shopping, she's not getting it from us.  (Although we've both agreed we'd probably let her purchase it with birthday money afterwards.)  Her former gift request was "the swim baby" which was a doll who swims.  It was an odd choice since she doesn't play with dolls much.  She still mentions the doll from time to time when seeing it at Target, but only mentions The Hulk when talking about birthday presents.

Other suggestions?  She likes anything with WALL*E on it, and they have a new WALL*E Leapster game and some little bird told me she might have a need for Leapster games soon.  She plays with Barbies only on occasion.  She doesn't need any tiny toys for Fudge to chew up.  She still loves shoes and I'm buying a size 9 currently, even though she's still in an 8.  (She has so many shoes, so that's only if you insist.)  She would like the books, Olivia and Olivia Forms a Band.  She needs no new summer clothes.  And the only clothing she really could use would be ballerina leotards and/or tutus which would need to be in a size 2/3 or 3/4.  A 4/5 will not work.  XXXS or XXS is the way to go.  I have a hard time finding ballerina garb.

If you recall, last year when asked what she wanted for her birthday, Bailey would just tell you about the many things she required for her birthday party, like balloons.  She's still doing that this year.  It makes it all the more apparent, you're not going to disappoint this child unless you tell her her party's canceled.  And well, we know the truth to that.

Reappropriating the blame

Bailey:  Where did Daddy put my orange Crocs?

Mommy:  Where did Bailey put your orange crocs?

Bailey:  No, I just want to find where Daddy put them.

I'm All Choked Up

Despite the humor that speaks to me from the title of this post, there's very little that's funny about the subject.  And I wasn't laughing earlier when it happened either.  In fact, I'm still not laughing.

 

Bailey was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich because that's one of the only meals her body is capable of eating (at least according to her) and all of a sudden she started choking.  We have to get after her for eating smaller bites CONSTANTLY when it comes to a lunch or dinner at home because while it can take as long as an hour and a half to eat breakfast (and I'm seriously not exaggerating) or forever and a day when we're eating in public (and that's only barely an exaggeration), she can't finish it fast enough when it's a lunch at home.  Do you want to know why?  Because Daddy has taught her that if you eat you get dessert, and boy does she want that dessert.

 

Well, if you're following, she was choking a bit so I used that tone as I said, "eat carefully, please," and witnessed her gag up something onto her plate on what she eating.  Gross, I know.  I was agitated with her actions until I realized, she was really choking.  Seriously choking.  I scooped her up, got after her some more as I truly was only trying to convince myself it wasn't that bad and no way, no how would she cough whatever it was up completely.  She just kept gagging.  And then she wasn't really doing anything except trying to make a sound and not looking like her normal self. 

 

I'm an incredibly high strung person in case you've never noticed, and just like most people, it's not hard for me to want to panic in a chaotic situation.  Luckily, there's those many gears turning in my head, the ones that over analyze even the simplest of subjects and I told myself I couldn't lose it because there wasn't time for that.  I didn't know what to do.  Beating to oblivion on her back wasn't working.  My half attempt at the Heimlich produced no results.  Crying in a corner wasn't an option.  So, I did the only thing I knew how to do, I stuck my fingers down her throat.  I mean, she was gagging anyway, what was the worst that was going to happen?  She was struggling for breath. 

 

Those darn tonsils made it difficult to do anything.  And they felt like they were what was causing it, as I do think some peanut butter was covering one of them.  That helped a bit but it scared her.  She was still gagging and now barely breathing (although it was an improvement from her purple faced expression from before) so I made a phone call to someone with experience because I knew an ambulance couldn't help me as urgent as this situation was.  I was trying to figure out what I was missing, what option I was missing.  Bailey kept saying there was more there (between heavy gags) but I couldn't find it.

 

Against given advice, I had her take sips of water and spit it into the toilet.  Swish and spit.  Swish and spit.  At least it was involving Bailey and keeping her from further anxiety.  The poor kid was not her pillar of strength self.  Finally, I discovered a clump of peanut butter on the roof of her mouth and I mean clump.  She had been convinced it was puke still in her mouth, which is what was causing her to continue gagging.  I'm wondering if when I was digging it out of the back of her throat, if I accidentally pushed some of it towards the roof of her mouth without noticing.

 

I was perfectly calm the entire time, even if that's hard for you to believe.  I know it's hard for me to believe.  I'm a problem solver, so I solved the problem, and as soon as it was solved I could finally react.  My hands now took the time to shake and my heart could race like it had wanted to all along.  I worried if I'd left bruises on her back.  And I'll be honest, I held Bailey and cried briefly, but mostly out of gratitude that she was fine.  Once she was okay and had a new sandwich, I don't think I've ever seen her eat a sandwich so slowly in my life.

 

As uncomfortable as it is for me to relive this, I'm writing it anyway so I'll remember it just in case my mind tries to pretend it never happened.  The brain can do crazy things, you know.  Trauma.

 

Oh and by the way, I hope you weren't eating anything while reading this.  Just eat smaller bites, would you?

Not the Momma

Even as a baby, Bailey never really referred to me as "Momma."  (Or is it Mama?  I can never tell.)  When I hear other children say it to their respective mothers, it still seems all awkward to me.  Not that I've always been Mommy.  I still recall the almost-year I spent as "Mother," and all the numerous occasions I've been "Mom."

 

I still get giddy every single time I'm called, "Mommy."  I will never take it for granted. 

 

But lately, I've caught Bailey calling me "Momma," and it's definitely because of outside influences and it bugs me forever times more than when she called me "Mother."  I shudder each time and at times have corrected her.  And you can tell that even when she says it, it kind of bugs her too.  She'll correct herself as well.

 

Because while I adore being Mommy, and can deal with being "Mom" or "Mother," I am certainly not the Momma.

Everything's better the second time around

As though it wasn't enjoyable enough on Sunday, we went to see the movie WALL*E in the theatre for the second time this evening.  It was even better than it was a few days ago, and I honestly wouldn't be surprised at all if we ended up seeing it again sometime soon.  We're easily persuaded when it comes to cute redheads and robotic flicks.  And what can we say...the popcorn tastes better there too.

 

 

Yes, everything is indeed better the second time around, except in the case of dead amphibians.

It's July Already??!

I just can't believe it.

 

It can't be possible.

 

 

Oh but it is.  And in ten more days, my Bailey will be four.

...And six days after that, she'll have her party, which she just can't talk about enough.

 

The year is going by so fast and I'm sure the next couple weeks will go even faster.  I have so much to do.  That would probably explain why I'm just now posting an entry for July.  Considering my lack of posts LAST July, I'll be surprised if I continue my streak of mucho postings.

 

We shall see.  Have I mentioned how it can't possibly be July already?