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Super Speller

standard December 12, 2011 2 responses

When I was a kid in elementary school I was a “Super” Speller. That’s right, not just super, but “Super,” as though no one in the school would notice the quotes and the capitalization and not instantly know that it was a euphemistic name.

Right now? Totally had to use spell check to spell euphemistic.

To put it simply, I’m a terrible speller. Terrible. I rely heavily on spell check and on that neat little function in Firefox that underlines misspelled words.

I’m not telling you this to give you something new tease me about next time we meet, but rather to put what I’m about to tell you next into context.

Somehow I’ve fallen into a warped reality where I am in fact the family’s de-facto Super Speller. (Note the absence of quotation marks.) 17 million times a day I find myself answering the question “Mommy, how do you spell..?”


Anything and everything. First it was just C, but now Little L has gotten in on the game. Only to them it’s not a game. It’s a super serious thing where they just have to know, right then and there, how things are spelled.

So, the “Super” Speller, over-user of spell check, has been caught in the never ending spelling bee from hell. And yes, they stump me sometimes and I have to mumble the second half of a word. But most often I’m able to spell the words they need.

I grumble and groan internally, but when it leads to things like this, I forgive them for putting me on the spot endlessly.

Little L’s very first note ever.

Raging Fever Kills Routine

standard October 5, 2011 2 responses

The fever started on Friday night. Well, there was a fever the week before, but it came and went so fast it was hardly noticeable. This fever has decided that it wants us to notice.

Saturday afternoon, the fever raged, turning Little L into a hot sack of potatoes in my arms as we toured Berkeley with the visiting family.

Sunday the fever raged as we sat around the house, cooped up and itching to get out.

Monday it spiked to 104.9.

Today it hovered in the 104s again.

We don’t worry. We don’t panic. We dish out water and Motrin and wait to see if the little girl perks up. When she hops up off the couch to go dress her doll we breathe easy.

Four days though. Four days and no end in sight of this bizarre virus. I’m canceling plans right and left and working around her needs for cuddles and love.

My routine was in the air because of the family’s visit and now it hangs there, waiting for Little L to recover, for daycare to be an option again.

I miss my table at Starbucks.

I miss having a vague idea of what I’ll accomplish during the day.

But if I’m really honest, I’m kind of enjoying this down-time with my baby. When the fever isn’t too bad she’s fun to cuddle.

Almost Dry at Night

standard August 29, 2011 Leave a response
Last week I packed up the girls, our bathing suits, and a couple pairs of shorts for each of us and we headed across the country to spend the week with my sister in Chicago. Next to the shorts, t-shirts and other warm weather things in their suitcase, I tucked seven GoodNites®, one for each night we’d be there.
“If you wake up dry every morning we’re in Chicago, when we come home, we can give all the diapers that are still at home to a baby who needs them.”
Little L nodded emphatically, her determination written all over her face.
I wasn’t surprised. Three weeks ago Little L finally started showing some interest in trying to be dry at night. In the morning she wakes up and checks her own diaper. Her glee when it’s dry brings a smile to my face. The thought of finally being diaper free keeps it there.
Her first night in Chicago she woke up dry. It was her third day in a row.
“Only four more nights mommy!” She crowed, reminding me that even before our trip I’d been telling her that she just had to be dry seven nights for me to allow her to give up her diapers. Clearly she was determined to make that happen while we were at her cousins’ house.
Then it was five nights. Six… and then… on the seventh… she woke up wet. Really, really wet.
Ditto on the eighth.
I played it off as no big deal, because really it isn’t one. She’ll be dry at night when she’s good and ready. Bedwetting will soon be a thing of the past for us.
She played it off as no big deal, but I could tell she was upset. She had tried so hard to reach this goal. She’d been so proud every morning, counting off the nights for me. I pulled her into bed with me and cuddled her tight.
We talked for a moment about the day we were going to have and then I asked her quietly if she was upset. She simply nodded.
“You know I love you no matter what, right? You’ll get this. It’s going to be ok. Your body just isn’t quite ready just yet. It needs to get a bit bigger and a bit better at keeping the pipi inside, that’s all. We can try again tonight.”
She nodded again, then shrugged, burden lifted. Another minute of snuggling and she was struggling to get down, anxious to start her day.
She was dry again last night and I’m hopeful she’ll be dry again tomorrow, but I’m not deluding myself. It’s a process. For some it’s a short one, for others it takes longer. As long as she knows I’m never going to be mad about how long it takes I’ll be happy with how it goes.
This post is part of a series of posts sponsored and inspired by GoodNites®. Stay tuned as we share stories about bedwetting and discuss great products and tips to get you through the ups and downs of parenting preschoolers and nighttime accidents. In the meantime, check out the NiteLite™ Panel, hosted by GoodNites®, where professionals share more information about bedwetting.

I am a GoodNites® Blogger Ambassador and I am being compensated for this series of posts, but, as always, the stories, thoughts, and opinions featured in these posts are mine and mine alone.

Wet Nights

standard June 27, 2011 1 response

When the clock ticks past my bedtime and into that no-mans-land where my bed calls to me as loudly as the laundry and the dishes and my legs refuse to let me get off the couch to tend to either, my list of tasks seems insurmountable.

Some nights I just wish I could shut down my computer and slide into bed, but if I did that the house would be permanently in disarray and the laundry would never get done.

I reward myself after all the chores are finally done with a little trip into the girls’ room.

I stretch up to check on C snug in her top bunk – pulling the covers over her body and tucking her doggy next to her head.

Then I swoop down to check on Little L. It’s still a shock to see her in a big girl bed and not in a crib. It’s amazing to me that she’s big enough to fill the space so well.

I fix the covers around her slumbering form and reach down to pat her tush. More often than not her diaper is soaked and needs to be changed.

I grumble about the fact that she’s not dry at night yet, but secretly I savor that late night diaper change. She’s so sweet and trusting in her sleep, letting me maneuver her pajamas off, slipping off her wet diaper, and replacing it with a dry one.

Once in a while she smiles at me in her sleep or murmurs a quiet “I love you, mommy.”

Is it really any surprise that I’m in no hurry for her to be dry at night?

That said, getting her out of diapers and into training pants that she can get herself in and out of would make our bedtime routine exponentially less painful. She all too often waits until the lights have been turned off too call out to us, cheerfully informing us that she needs to go potty. Since she can’t yet put her own diaper on, we have to go to her assistance, giving her some of that coveted my-sister-is-asleep-and-I’m-up-past-my-bed-time fun. Too many nights we’re tempted to just tell her to pee in her diaper, but I’m always scared that that will just promote some serious bedwetting down the road.

This is the first of a series of posts sponsored and inspired by GoodNites®. Stay tuned as I introduce you to great products and tips to get you through the ups and downs of nighttime accidents. In the meantime, check out the NiteLite Panel, hosted by GoodNites®, where professionals share more information about bedwetting.
I am a GoodNites® Blogger Ambassador and I am being compensated for this series of posts, but, as always, the stories, thoughts, and opinions featured in these posts are mine and mine alone.