Ahhhh...A breath of fresh cuteness

Now that the sickness has fled Nora's body for the time being. she is back to her too cute self. In comparison to her moaning, whiny sick self, her abundant energy and talkativeness has Ken and I constantly amused. Here is the new Nora cute list - since it's been a while since I made one.

OTay: Nora's new word of the day - everything today was "O-Tay." Lots of her words are cute: her excited breathless "yeah" in response almost everything, including Ken's asking her if she wants a sister or brother, "bless you, Dada," every time Ken sneezes or coughs, "books a bed" every time she wants to read in bed, which is often, and her labeling of all the colors of everything she sees and does.

Picture Books: Now Nora reads to us instead of us always reading to her. She knows all the pictures in her picture books and says the words enthusiastically and shuts the book and pronounces "the end."

Silly kisses: Nora sometimes, if you're really lucky, will give you silly kisses - which means she kisses you numerous times on the cheeks, nose and sometimes the mouth. And she doesn't stop because it always makes us laugh.

Airplanes: Nora LOVES airplanes. Every time she hears an airplane, even when we're in the house, she stops what she's doing, looks up and says "aplane." She also tries to say helicopter, which is really cute.

Drawing: Nora loves to draw, especially with the many colored pens she finds in my school bag. Tonight she drew many colored Os. I took a picture since amazingly it did look like she was drawing Os. She colors so intently and makes straight lines on the floor with her pens or crayons, organizing her materials.

Cleaning: She certainly doesn't take after me, but at least once a day Nora asks for a few diaper wipes to "cean" her books and toys. Sometimes she insists I help. Maybe she is trying to send me a message about my own cleaning skills.

And the nebulizer: While I wish this wasn't even in her life, she is SO good about doing her nebulizer so far. When I tell her it's time for her mask she runs to open the door for the apple tv, asks for Yo Gabba Gabba or the Backyardigans and then turns on the machine and jumps up on my lap for a relaxing ten minutes of tv and breathing pulmicort. I have a feeling this arrangement is too good to last.

There are so many cute things that Nora does it's actually hard to list. She is just so enthusiastic about life right now. At the same time, she's asserting her independence, trying to do everything from putting on her socks and pants, to feeding herself, to serving her own cheerios.

Oh please stay around, healthy Nora. I missed you!

The New Noramal

With each progressive sickness, beginning when Nora was 9 months old, I knew my odds of one day having the doctor tell me that Nora has asthma were increasing. I would worry about it, cry about it, but all of that was unproductive - the kind of asthma Nora would have would be genetic, ironically totally out of my control even though it was my genetics that could bestow that gift. Ken would tell me to stop worrying, but I couldn't help it. That's what moms do.

Wednesday morning I sat in the doctor's office and she said, "I'm thinking Nora has a mild form of asthma..." She explained that looking at the X-Rays she noticed that all four of Nora's big infections have been in the same spot in her lungs and that she assumes there is a tightness there that is allowing bacteria to grow in the mucous her tightened lungs are producing.

I thought I would cry, that I would be scared and maybe angry. But I actually felt relief when the doctor said it. Finally I could stop worrying about it maybe being true and concentrate on helping her get through it. And, most of all, if this is what will help us keep her well, then I am happy to know the cause. Even if it is that dreaded word.

And maybe I wasn't so upset because it is my genetics. Because I know that I have lived a happy life with asthma. Because I know it is something I can potentially control more so than those other bugs that keep getting the best of my poor baby.

So our new normal includes twice daily nebulizer treatments. She is on Pulmicort, a steroid that will strengthen the weak spot in her lungs. So far, Nora hasn't minded the treatments. She gets a bit antsy. She wants to suck her thumb when she can't. But she hasn't fought it (maybe because it means she gets more TV) and she actually likes to hold the duck shaped mask herself sometimes.

I didn't get weepy about any of this until I took the photo of her with her mask. That new normal may be a relief, but it still is hard to see that your baby is going to have potentially permanent sturggles. But if the first vomit-free day in a week is any indication, maybe this is a turning point towards better health. At least I hope so.

Back to Noramal

As the week to forget carries over into week two, Nora is slowly getting back to normal. In our attempt to get her to eat something, anything, we may have started some less desirable habits - namely eating in the living room. But when your kid doesn't eat for 5 days, those "bad habits" aren't really what you are thinking of at the time.

So today, still home from daycare, Nora got to spend the day with Ken. At around 1 he texted me at school: "She is great but threw up after yoyoke and we had a disagreement about where lunch would be served. See email."

And here for all to view is the contents of that email:

(On another note, every child mispronounces things in cute ways that cause the whole family to use that new pronunciation. Nora's version of yogurt is yoyoke. So that's what Ken and I call it - now and maybe forever.)

The Week To Not Remember

After recording this here, I am going to try to forget it all. I will have it here for proof that we did survive.

This week, Ken got hit by a car, Nora got really sick yet again and Ken caught her bug again. More coughing, fights over medicine, trips to the doctor, blood draws and chest X-rays, and countless lost hours of sleep. And I had to work all day Saturday.

She's not even two and she knows how to hold her own barf bowl.

Life isn't fair. But I guess I knew that already...

I Prefer Sidelines, I Think...

The daycare used to tell me that Nora didn't talk, that she just sucked her thumb, that she was quiet and calm all day. And I worried. As I wrote before, I worried that all of that observing and "playing" on the sidelines meant she was unhappy at daycare.

Well, as I knew deep down would happen, Nora has broken out of her shell. She talks much more (at home and at daycare) and she also is more interactive. Today I dropped Nora off and Miss Laura told me that Nora has been "lovin' on" all the boys, holding hands and kissing them. On Monday I had to sign an accident report since she had walked into the corner of a table and scratched her nose while holding tightly onto one of the boys' hands. Today that same boy screamed for joy when Nora arrived, "NORA!" And then he proceeded to take his shirt off.

It just so happens that this boy is notorious for his energy and crazy dancing. Miss Laura said that if this is the kind of boy Nora is going to go for, we better start worrying now.

As Nora like to say, "uh-oh."

Oh - and all this kissing has led to yet another sickness for Nora. She came home with a fever today.

Great. Be careful what you wish for, I guess.

Sunglasses or Tales of a Budding Drama Queen

With the time change came solar glare. With the solar glare came Nora complaining in the car about the sun (understandably). With the complaints came Ken and I suggesting (on separate occasions when we were not all in the car together) that Nora needed sunglasses. With that suggestion came Nora's asking for a week for "suglasses" (apparently the child has a good memory).

After traveling to three stores and being told that sunglasses were "seasonal" (are you kidding? We live in Texas? And even so, has anyone at Babies 'R Us ever been blinded by solar glare off snow?), we finally hit the jackpot of sunglasses at Target. Nora tried on at least 15 pair and I settled on two (what if one breaks?), a Dora pink pair with flexi sides and some more fashionable Hello Kitty glasses. Since finding the glasses, Nora hasn't traveled anywhere without them. She wears them in the car, taking them off only to look for the sun she is shielding herself from. This morning she put them on, took them off, looked ahead and said, "Sun. There it is!" and promptly put the glasses back on her face.

She has the dramatic way of sitting, arms relaxed over the sides of the carseat, mouth relaxed into a pout, that just cracks me up every time I look at her with the glasses on. And I can't imagine a day when it won't make me smile.

Maybe He's Not So Crazy?

I've written before about Nora's skepticism towards Uncle Ian. On Halloween when he came over to visit she began the evening in the usual fashion - hiding her eyes, clinging to me, etc. But what we've realized lately with both her uncles is that she really is just being coy. She certainly tends towards the dramatic (when Ken took her to the doctor today for her follow-up and dose one of the H1N1 shot, she talked about her booboo from the doctor all the way to daycare and then they told us she talked about it all day long. And she says it in this dramatic little fake voice).

When we finally convinced Nora that if she wanted to go outside on Halloween she had to wear her panda costume so finely crafted by her Nana, she surprisingly brought it to Uncle Ian. What ensued was quite comical.

Due to some technical difficulties, the videos below are in reverse order...

Girly Girl

“One purse. Two purse. That purse. This purse.”
“One, two, three, four, five, seven, eight, nine shoes.”
“No. Pink cup!”

Nora is a girl. A girly girl. At work today someone asked me why I thought she was girly, whether it was our training or her natural preference for handbags, shoes and all things pink. I’ve been reading about this question a lot on other mom blogs. In the Times Motherlode blog there was a report questioning whether we push our kids too much into a gender role and “predict” their sexual future for them. There was even an article about a Dutch family who is keeping the gender of their child a secret to everyone, including the child, to see what happens.

I never gave the whole gender role question much thought, honestly. Nora has lots of pink things. She also has lots of blue things. Her room is green, with a touch of pink. She has blocks, cars, fisher price toys that surely are gender neutral. When she first picked up a purse it was pretty accidental. Last Christmas she found one of my small red purses and she loved it. As she learned to walk it dangled from her arm constantly. I didn’t give her the purse in the first place, but I surely encouraged her to keep playing with it. It was cute.

I’m not really sure it matters if kids like what they are “supposed” to like. I doubt it really has much to do with what their future preferences are. But for now Nora is a girly girl. And I guess I like it that way.

Sick

One of the worst things as a parent is when you feel helpless. For me, Nora being sick makes me feel that way. All I want to do is help her get better, feel better, avoid future sicknesses. In most of those arenas, I am powerless. I can soothe her, rock her, cuddle her, but I can’t make the pain go away; I can’t wave a magic medicine wand; I can’t promise her that I’ll quit my job and never send her back to germy daycare again. That’s the big one. That’s the mom guilt I can’t seem to shake.

Nora was sick this week. Really sick. I’ve blocked out bout number one with pneumonia, but I’d venture to say that she was sicker than she’d ever been before. It started with a virus – one that did not test positive for swine flu. It progressed into croup, which progressed into pneumonia. Horrible. She was crying in pathetic hoarse voice that even the hardest of hearts would have melted at – I’m sure of it. She wouldn’t eat – sometimes she wouldn’t even swallow. And she wouldn’t sleep. Who can blame her really.

When Nora is sick I get teary. I know it annoys Ken – that when she cries I most of the time do too. And I don’t mean to. I would stop doing it if I knew how. But I just want to help my poor sick baby. I know he does too. His brain gets more focused. Mine gets more fuzzy. I lose my focus on anything other than her. The house gets more messy. I forget everything when I leave for work. I just can think about Nora and what I need to do to make her better. Thankfully Ken thinks effectively about everything else and the whole house doesn’t fall apart. But this time Ken was sick too.

I have to send Nora back to daycare tomorrow. She was a big strong Panda for Halloween last night. I hope she can use some of her fierce roar to ward off future illnesses.