Small world

We saw our mailman the other day, and as I waved to him I told him, "Milo, we don't really know him, but Mommy has made cupcakes for him before because Daddy works with his girlfriend. Isn't it a small world?"

Silence.

Silence.

Silence...

"Mommy, it's actually a really big world."

Figs and pigs and horses, oh my!

We've been having camera difficulties around here. Anyone know anything about a Nikon DL 3200? I'm having trouble with the auto-focus. As in, it won't. And then it won't take a picture because nothing's in focus... I may have to suck it up and take the camera back in.

That said, let me just tell you a story or two instead of sharing pictures. I know you're distraught with longing to see my little people, but this will have to suffice.

Every now and then, I find myself NOT on top of things. It's a pretty strange feeling to me because I normally have things relatively under control. Well, today when I ran bathwater for Milo and Lucy, I realized we were out of babywash. Okay, no need for concern (although these sensitive-skinned little people might say otherwise). I decided to sub some of my shower gel for their normal wash and made a big bubbly bath. I reassured Milo with these words, "It's okay, buddy. You're going to smell so nice - like brown sugar and fig."

Milo wrinkled his little nose at me, cocked an eyebrow, and asked, "Mommy, do I want to smell like a pig?"

Once I finished laughing, I reassured him that a fig was nothing like a pig and he'd be just fine.

After bathtime, I put Lucy in a new pair of tights that we bought recently - first wearing on these little purple tights with pink horses (Or is it the other way around? You get the idea.). I told her to go into the bathroom and show Milo her "horse pants" as I referred to them. She stepped around the corner shyly and said, "Milo. Neigh." That's all. Then she looked down at the tights and pointed one little toe. Perfect.

Hope you're having a wonderful week!

It's the little moments...

I know, I know. Yesterday was a little heavy. So I thought I'd make it up to you with a few funny stories about these tiny people.

The other day I was explaining to Milo that I had found a single-serving container of plain cream cheese, and I referred to it as "mini-sized." Milo thought for a moment and replied, "I think I'd rather have Mickey-size, Mommy."

Also, a few minutes after we laid our little people down the other night, we heard Milo screaming at the top of his lungs. Nate ran over to his door wondering what was wrong, and he realized that he was shouting, "I can't hear anything at all! I can't hear anything at all!" Nate burst into the room to check on him, and Milo was startled.

"Daddy, what is it?"

"Milo, I heard you shouting. What's going on in here?"

"I was shouting? I couldn't hear it. I had my fingers in my ears like this." (Insert one pointer finger in each ear.)

I don't lack for Lucy stories, either. My little sprout loves socks, and, in fact, digs through her dirty laundry basket to find them and carry them around with her. The other day she was furious with me because I wouldn't put dirty socks on her (she already had socks on, mind you), and she glared at me, shaking her head and saying, "ZzzzzzzzzzOCKS!" in her frustration. She was so angry her s's had turned to z's.

She's also learned the concept of "stuck." Never mind that she usually gets herself stuck on purpose, just to tell us and let us get her un-stuck. When she was finished with her lunch today she looked at me from her high chair and told me over and over, "Mommy, I stuck." Imagine her face when I explained to her that I wanted her to be stuck in the high chair - that it's kind of the point of it.

So we are still laughing around here. These little people make it impossible not to.

The worst moment

I'm working on doing a little processing today, so indulge me... You see, in life, there are things that you can't un-see, moments that you can't un-live. And along those lines, these moments seem to be the ones emblazoned the most strongly upon your memory.

Lucy woke up Monday morning a little cranky and with a low fever. She was coughing a croupy cough, but she was uncharacteristically cheery for not feeling well. We snuggled most of the morning and made plans for the rest of the day. 

She woke up from her afternoon nap with a higher fever, and Nate stayed home with her while I took Milo to gymnastics. We decided to have a chill evening, with a fire and a movie. Nothing major, just rest for all. As her fever climbed a bit more, I thought a cool bath might help her before bedtime, but I wasn't worried.

And then, in the midst of all this, my biggest fears came to life. Lucy had a seizure. She's never had a seizure. I've never seen someone have one. And because I am desperately trying to forget what it's like to hold your baby as she seizes, speaking soothing words for your three-year old as your husband speeds the family to the hospital, I'll spare you the details. But we spent the rest of the evening in the ER.

Lucy's seizure was a febrile seizure caused by a sudden spike in her fever. They leave no damage, and these are apparently quite common in children. We were sent home with a prescription for antibiotics (ear infection), Motrin and Tylenol to bring the fever down (caused by a viral upper respiratory infection - viral = just run its course), and a baby on a three-hour through the night medicine schedule (like having a newborn all over again). Milo spent the night at the Foys (so grateful that Amanda raced to the hospital to snatch him up and take him home). And Nate and I were left with an awful memory and a lot of questions. 

I'm grateful that Lucy is just fine. In fact, she's downright cranky and extra feisty today, coughing away and marching herself around after me. I'm also downright teary when I think of people with epileptic children who go through this all the time, but times a million (Lucy never stopped breathing, never turned colors and again, was completely undamaged). And I guess I just had to tell you that this happened, and I am trying not to be a mess about it. 

Sleep feels impossible (for a myriad of reasons aside from being emotionally traumatized). My little people are still a bit unsettled. We thought Milo was unaware of the whole thing, but he cried for probably an hour after we laid him down for bed last night. He's a sensitive little guy and I should have known that he sensed more than he let on. And Lucy was up until 1:30 a.m., crying if we laid her down and staggering around like a drunken sailor from sheer exhaustion. We are going to get back to normal, but first I have to stop trying to forget it happened and let my brain work through it. So thanks for listening (reading, whatever). Say a little prayer for all these Jacksons when you can.

Minnie hats

Have you ever tried to take a picture of two busy, determined little girls at the same time? It doesn't work so well...

Two babies, two Minnie hats, and some serious stankeye.

They were both a little concerned about this...

And my beautiful niece Mia Ann.

A Mommy's Life

Have you seen anything that describes a mommy's life more accurately? (I found this at http://weheartit.com/entry/22566165)

 

Falltastic

These little people are incredibly fun (almost) all the time. We've been enjoying our "occasionally you can wear long sleeves" kind of weather. Then again, today we broke a sweat walking (and Milo bike riding) back from the park. I'm not complaining. Just casually observing... Let's just get back to how adorably fun my little nuggets are.

"Hooray! Mommy put me down on the trampoline all by myself!"

I've never known such a good-natured big brother as Milo.

That is some intense jumping right there.

Poor Lucy Jane inherited my hair's propensity for static.