hug?

I just put Monkey to bed. We read Corduroy 4 times, and then I put her into her crib with her blankie, her monkey stuffed animal, and her water bottle. 

I moved to turn off the reading lamp, and after I extinguished the light I heard Monkey's sweet little voice pop up into the dark air....

"hug?"

She wanted a hug from mama. So I leaned over the side of her crib where she was standing, and gave her a hug. She reached her arms around me and patted my back. And then she said "bye bye." My job was done for the night. I'd been dismissed, in the most wonderful of ways. 

I love that little girl. 

Who's in charge?

Monkey and Ollie have developed a new rapport. 

Ollie, for one, is much more tolerant of Monkey, and most of the time doesn't mind when Monkey pets her. Ollie will even approach Monkey to sniff her, and joins her on the living room carpet rug, close to the action. It is really endearing so see Ollie accepting her - especially considering what a rocky start they got (Ollie got depressed after Monkey was born and almost died).

Monkey not only is gentler with Ollie when she pets her, but also now clearly is aware of what Ollie is doing. And sometimes, she doesn't approve. 

That's when we'll hear Monkey bark out "Ollie, SIT down." (She's very imposing, that one!)

Ollie usually licks a paw, if she reacts at all. 

We think it is hilarious that Monkey is bossing around the cat! 

Sand Angel

Friday Monkey went back to the pediatrician to follow up on her upper respiratory viral infection and resulting inhaler - and got the BEST report I could hope for - "clear lungs." Phew! With asthma in the family (both sides) and living near Harlem that has the highest rate of asthma in the city, I was worried. So, for now, relief. And, after tonight - no more inhaler! Whee!!!!!

After the appointment with the doctor (which ended about 3:30pm), Monkey and I walked home through the park. With a 2 hour detour in a sandbox. Yes, two FULL hours in the sandbox. It was a perfect sunny day, 80 degrees out, slight wind, and no humidity. Exactly the kind of weather you want, and rarely get, at least here in NYC. 

The sandbox was a hit. Monkey had fun playing by herself, and also with others. From time to time she would approach other kids and hand them a toy - as if to say here, take this, enjoy. She's become very social that way and it is fascinating to me. I attribute it to the montessori daycare. 

Monkey was so completely filthy that at one point I took off her shirt, and shook it upside down to get (most of) the sand out of a pocket. And then yes, put that filthy shirt back on her....after all, she was going right back into the sand! 

M wasn't with us - he was winging his way to Nebraska to bury his grandpa Bernie Hoerle. Rest in peace, Grandpa. We'll miss you. We were really sad to hear that he passed away Wednesday morning - but since it was unexpected, he didn't suffer through a long illness. And at almost 88 years of age, he'd lived a long, full life.

I was thinking about this, about life & death, as I sat in the brilliant sun and watched my beautiful daughter play in the sand - full of life, healthy and happy. Monkey was on her back throwing sand into the air, and started making snow (ok, sand) angels. I thought "how appropriate" to make an angel....

My little Rooster

Monkey has a new artistic love: sidewalk chalk.

We spent quality time outside this weekend, drawing on the sidewalk and generally getting messy. Monkey looked like a hippy once we were done - her pants looked tie-dyed, she had so many different colors on her! I think I washed our hands 3 or 4 times before I finally got all the chalk out from underneath our nails and ground into our cuticles.

In short, this was a hit.

Unfortunately, Monkey liked it so much she asks for it by name, all.the.time. Why do I say unfortunately? Because she drops the "h" from the word. So "chalk" becomes "calk", only it sounds more like "cawk" or, you know, "cock." Snort.

So yes, my daughter is walking around demanding cock. You know, a rooster! Sheesh, what were YOU thinking??????????

Luke, I am your father

Well, although Monkey has no longer been running a fever, she isn't over this illness. In fact, she has been wheezing and coughing like an old woman that smokes 50 packs a day. So, M took her into the pediatrician's this morning. The wheezing was really making me worried. 

It's been a long week. M and I have been splitting taking care of her during the work day, trying to nurse her back to health, still getting work done, and remembering to sleep at night. Ok, so we do sleep, but we haven't slept through the night all week, either dealing with Monkey's coughing and crying jags, or generally just checking on her to make sure she's ok and still breathing....because you know, at 4am let's face it, we aren't exactly rational.  

We have taken Monkey's temperature so often this week that she actually now tries to do it herself. Oh! I am in LOVE with the Braun infrared digital thermometer. It was actually worth the ridiculous amount of money I spent on it - because it WORKS. I have officially given the one we used to have, made by Vicks that never worked, and given it to Monkey. She tries to take my temperature - an MD in training? So she's not afraid of that any more. Phew! One less toddler-phobia to deal with! 

One the plus side, we are pretty sure that Monkey also will no longer be afraid of the stethoscope. She's got a new, better phobia to replace that one. 

 

Yup, there's a new sheriff in town. It's the nebulizer mask. Aka Darth Vader. M had to hold it over Monkey's mouth and nose for ten minutes. And then, well, it didn't work. So he had to hold it down (and yes, hold her down) for another seven minutes. 17 minutes. Poor thing.

After she wakes up from her nap, we have to fill a prescription for the home version.

"Luke, I am your father." Too bad only me and M will find this funny. Sigh.