California

My grandfather's 95th birthday party was in California last weekend and I wanted to attend. After much consideration it was decided that I would take Emilia and drive there with my parents while Shelby stayed home with the other kids. We left bright and early Friday morning. When I went to wake Emilia up I was overwhelmed by a horrible stench coming from her crib. Initially I thought she had pooped but upon further inspection I realized she had thrown-up in the night and then slept in it all night. As a side note, I will never understand how kids can throw up in their sleep, roll over and continue to snooze in a pile of their own vomit. Anyway it was a rough start to a very rough 13 hour drive. My kids have all been good travellers as babies to varying degrees. Rachel was the best. She could be in a car for hours and we would not hear a peep. Emilia has a very poor track record so far. I thought having me sit by her would help but it only made her mad. She probably thought I was being a jerk for just sitting there instead of getting her out of her car seat. During the course of the car ride she threw up once, had one blow out diarrhea diaper, let out periodic high pitch screeches (I am talking frequent blood-curdling screams), and cried for the last solid 2 hours of the car ride. My dad's cousin Fay rode with us and apparently nobody told her we were bringing a baby. She said when she got in the car that she loves babies, but I wonder if by the end she changed her mind. The rest of the trip Emilia was pretty good, and I was happy to have a child with me. It helped me miss the others less. The ride home was significantly more peaceful, probably because by then she was feeling much better.

While I was gone the kids were great for Shelby. Part of me was hoping they would make things a little difficult for him as to evoke some feelings of appreciation for what I do all day. Carson apparently pooped only in the toilet the whole time, something he had rarely done up to that point. The girls were nice and well-behaved, and they all had fun together. The minute I got back Carson regressed to strictly pooping in his pants again. Usually when I return from a trip my kids all try to be difficult, maybe to punish me for leaving? The day after I got back was a perfect mother day. The kind that makes me just love my life. Shelby left me with a pretty clean house, so I did not have much house work to do. The weather was nice, and other than the pooping thing, all the kids were pleasant. I wish every day was that good!

I asked Lilly to get me the mail the other day. She went to the mailbox without her shoes and ended up with three giant slivers. She wanted more than anything to leave them in her foot for life, but they had to come out. Getting them out was an all day traumatic process for both of us. Every time I touched her foot she would scream that it hurt and pull away. So we made a deal. She promised she would hold still if I promised not to use a skeedle (needle). We tried tweezers and fingernails, but Lilly was not keeping her end of the bargain. She would not let me anywhere near the slivers before she kicked and screamed and wiggled away. I gave her periodic breaks but it did not help. Finally in desperation I grabbed a needle, held her down and removed the first sliver. I am sure my neighbors considered calling child protective services, such were the screams. After the first sliver she asked me if we could just please talk about it. I sat her on my lap and she told me through her tears how if she had only been wearing shoes none of this would have happened, and how there wasn't even any mail in the mailbox, and could we please just leave the slivers in. By the end of the conversation we were both crying. But the slivers had to come out. So I held her down and removed the last two slivers while trying to tune out her screaming.

Emilia had an appointment with her cardiologist yesterday. I wasn't sure I would make it back in time to get Rachel from the bus, so I left Lilly and Carson with Amber and on a whim, picked Rachel up from school early so she could come with me. I wanted to spend some time with her and thought it would make her feel special. Now that she is getting older it is fun to talk to her about more grown-up stuff. Of course she is still mostly child. She has been talking about getting a magic wand for a few weeks. She even prays for it, but to no avail. In the car yesterday she told me she was just going to get a magic horse instead. That way her magic horse can make her a magic wand. Sounds logical, right? I asked her if I could ever ride her magic horse and after thinking for a minute she said "I will just have my magic horse make you your own magic horse." the other conversation we had: "Rachel, what is your least favorite color?" Rachel answers a definite "Red." A little surprised I respond "Why red?" She tells me "All the bad guys are red. My least favorite number is four because it is everywhere and it freaks me out." I said "interesting" but in my mind I was thinking "Weird".