Presents, Hairbows and Helping

I'm afraid of presents. Last year, I was excited to get Nora a Christmas gift and a birthday gift. I hid them both in plain sight and she never noticed. She wasn't quite one yet.

This year is different. Nora knows somehow what a present is. She knows how to spot things I'm hiding from a mile away. She knows who Santa is (she said "Santa. Ho, Ho, Ho" to the bearded butcher in Central Market tonight. He wasn't so thrilled). She has already gotten a few presents for Christmas and her birthday, which are woefully close together. Last night, after she opened two gifts she asked for more. That's when I got scared. I think maybe I should just call off her birthday until she knows better. Too many presents. Too overwhelming. Too much stuff. Ugh.

But enough about presents - on to hairbows. I have been agonizing about Nora's hair for a month now. Do I cut it? Should she have bangs? Does it look too much like a mullet? And for all my thinking about it, nothing has happened. She still has wispy wavy hair that goes into her face too often. But she is so close to not having bangs, to being able to tuck it behind her ear. She refuses to wear anything in her hair. She likes to say "hairbow" but that is about it. But somehow, Miss Laura conned her into wearing a Pebbles-looking hairstyle today for her Christmas party. And when we got home I somehow conned her into a ponytail. And when I looked at her with the hairbow in - especially the ponytail - I couldn't deny it anymore. My baby is a little girl. She looked so big and grown up with her hair all "done." Maybe that is why I haven't cut her hair. Maybe I am already - at 23 months - trying to keep Nora as my little baby.

And helping. Nora is such a helper. She loads the dishwasher, turns on her nebulizer, brings her dishes to the sink. She cleans her books and shelves with diaper wipes, puts her coat away, turns the Christmas Tree lights on and off. And the other night she even helped Uncle Andrew with his laundry. He was so patient as she took each piece out of the dryer and put it in his basket. Then he handed her each piece from the washer and she put it enthusiastically in the dryer. She loves to help. And most times, when she's done, she'll look at me and say, "Yeah, Nora!"

My little growing helper will get lots of love, attention and presents this Christmas and birthday season. And my best present will be to have time away from work to spend with her.

Hot Fire

Ken should really be writing this. But he won't.

Before bed most nights Nora and Ken read Goodnight Moon. For those of you who know the book well, you can picture the green room with the fireplace in the background. Nora has apparently taken to this fire and wished the author had included it in the list of inanimate objects that the bunny says goodnight to before bed.

Nora, as Ken reports, sucks her thumb like Maggie from the Simpsons sucks her pacifier, as he reads, but each time he turns the page she removes the thumb long enough to point and say, "hot fire!" Then she replaces her thumb and waits for the fire to reappear on the next page so she can repeat her pointing and stating "hot fire!"

Tonight Nora was asking for me to put her to sleep (which I don't do because it takes 40 minutes) and she was crying after I left her with Ken in the rocker. He started reading Goodnight Moon and she kept crying. That is, until he pointed to the hot fire. She repeated and pointed. And apparently at the end of the book she said, "night night hot fire."

Too funny.

Nora's First Christmas Tree

With each ornament I took out of the box, Nora oohed and aaahed. To the white and silver heart, she said "mine" and laid it on her chest just where her heart is. To the giant silver snowflake ornament, she said, "so pretty!" And when I took out the star ornaments she started singing "Twinkle Twinkle." (We recently realized she knows the words to most of her songs - and sings along when she doesn't want to nap...)

Nora loved putting every ornament on the tree. And they when we were done she wanted to take them all off and do it again. She took the ones off the bottom two or three times and redecorated. Each time she successfully replaced an ornament she said, "Yeah, Nora!" and clapped for herself.

She even said "night night, Christmas tree," as we went off for bedtime.

Her nose is running - maybe a cold, maybe an allergy, maybe molars - but she is happy as can be.

It was the most fun I've had decorating a Christmas tree.

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...