Daycare-itis

First it started with a headache and nasty cold.

Then it dropped into my lungs and graduated to bronchitis.

Now, laryngitis. I can't even answer the phone at work, since no one understands me. Um, hello? I'm a fundraiser - I'm supposed to TALK to people for a living! Ugh.

I'm sick. I call it daycare-itis. I have the cold that Monkey brought home from daycare (and still has, herself).

The worst part? I kind of brought it (the cold, at least) upon myself.....

Monkey has tons of teeth, eats solid food, and therefore needs to have her teeth brushed. But she hates it, so I try to be creative.

In one of these fits of creativity? I let her brush my teeth - and she loved it! She even smiled long enough to let me cram the toothbrush into her mouth and attempt a full-mouth scrub down. Unfortunately, this learning activity then went south. To wit, Monkey took her toothbrush out of my hands, out of her mouth........and then shoved it into my mouth to brush my teeth. And I let her. Ew.

Not sure which is more gross - letting my daughter brush my teeth with her toothbrush, or the time she vomited on my face (and, um, a wee bit into my mouth). No, wait, the vomiting wins. Never mind.

Monkey see, monkey do

A new friend of mine has a child that is one month younger than Monkey. We have made plans to go hang out at AMNH in about a month...and got to talking (ok, "typing") about whether or not her son would be walking solo by then. He's about 14 months old, and content to walk with a helping hand from mom and dad. My friend commented that she loves getting together with us, and seeing what the older and "wiser" child is doing...a preview, if you will, of what her son will do soon.

Somehow I doubt the term "wiser" applies to Monkey. I'm thinking "dare-devil" is more like it.

To wit: last night I found her hanging almost upside down off of her pack n play! She gripped the top like she was on a monkey bar, and then somehow she worked her feet up to well past her waist...and was happy as a clam! Literally hanging off of the bar, dangling in the breeze.

Did I grab her and protext her from harm, prevent gravity from having its way with her noggin? Nope, I was busy trying to dislodge my heart from my throat.

And, before I could even flinch, she nonchalantly dropped her feet down and went on her merry way.

Her nickname IS Monkey for a reason. Somehow I don't think this is what my friend wants her kid to do.

I am SO not sending her the link to my blog. Nope, no can do. Monkey needs her playdates, and I'll drive away enough of her friends later on in life....sooo, I'll just let my friend (and her son) learn the hard way, when he starts keeping up with Monkey and does a triple lindy into my friend's startled arms. Heh.

Keeping Time

Ok, so Monkey has only mastered - like - 4 words (she understands dozens, but most of what comes out of her mouth sounds like "bah").

She can only hum the first part of the song Frere Jacques...and she certainly can't count.

She's a normal 15 month old.

So is it wrong for me to hope that I can teach her to tell time?? You know, so that I can get her to sleep in until an acceptable, nay - humane - time?

Because this daylight savings is KILLING ME.

Monkey woke up at 5am this morning (which until recently was 6am, and therefore an acceptable time to roust mom or dad). Dad is traveling, so they only way I could get clean...and trust me, I needed it after 2 days of sweating out this nasty cold....was to strap Monkey into her highchair, drag the highchair into the bathroom with me, ply her with paper and crayons, and take a shower (quickly!) while singing "old macdonald" and "Frere Jacques" at the top of my lungs so she'd hum along with me.

I told a colleague about this, as we were riding up in the elevator to work (I think she was wondering why I looked like something the cat dragged in). She laughed and said "whiskey." I don't know if she meant it for me, or for Monkey....

Go call your mom. Now, dammit.

Everyone has a mom. And everyone should call their mom - right now! - to tell her that they love her and adore her and are grateful for all that she did.

(If your mom is no longer with us, I'm sorry for your loss. Think good thoughts about her. Hug someone else's mom and spread the love).

Someone I love, one of my best friends in the world, is having a rough week; her mom is having an even worse one. They are both in my prayers (the whole family is). I'm praying for treatable and beatable.

Halloween Karate - hiyaaaah!!

There will be no adorable photos of Monkey in a Halloween costume this year. No hooting monkey, giggling pumpkin, clucking chicken, wee lamb or scary monster....

Why you may ask?

A) Is it because your beloved camera is broken?

Erm, yes, in part. But I'm getting that fixed and really, I have a fantastic backup...plus my cellphone camera in a pinch.


B) Is it because the truly fetching and adorable monkey costume you ordered was put on backorder, and then finally cancelled when the company realized the earliest delivery would be in December? (wow, talk about poor management there!)

Yeah, that too. Stupid company.

C) What is it then? Inquiring minds want to know!!!

(yes, yes, I know, I have a grandiose view of my blog...and your alleged avid interest in reading it...just roll with it!)

Well, it's like this........a few weekends ago, the day before Monkey's dad went away on a business trip, we took Monkey to the Bronx Zoo for their "Boo at the Zoo" activities. Most of the scheduled events were for older kids - face painting, sing alongs, etc. But there was an all-ages Halloween Parade through the zoo, replete with children AND adults in costume. We watched the parade go by, giggling and goggling at the funny/cute/strange outfits on display.

All was well. Monkey happily sat in her bugaboo stroller (thanks grandma and grandpa Larson, that ride rocks!), watching the parade go by.

Then, a tall adult in an elephant costume (Bronx Zoo employee, I'd guess) decided to "play" with Monkey.

You know, lean waaaay over with his HUGE ears and LONG SWINGING nose and gently bat her hands and faces with his GIGANTIC elephant feet.

Monkey did not take kindly to this assault upon her person.

She screeched (damn girl, you just sassed out an elephant that is waay bigger than you!) and swatted the elephant's hands (feet? paws?) away. She landed a few karate chops on the guy...and he moved on.

And I decided that costumes? This year? Yeah, they might be a tad much for the Monkey. Plus I didn't want to apologize to any parents if Monkey got freaked out by their kid and smacked him in the face.

She's fierce.