Elise and the animals

Notice how they're tucked
under Elise's right arm: do
you think she's left-handed?

There's nothing much cuter in this world than seeing a 16-month-old gently kiss a shaggy pink bear and puppy and put them not-so-gently down for a little nap, whispering "shhh" to make sure they stay asleep. Or seeing her give the same bear and puppy a big squeeze if they fall off the couch, or hold them up so they can see the train passing by, feed them pretend food from a pretend spoon, or lick their noses or wake them up from their naps.

And that pretty much sums up the take-home message of this blog, unless you want to read about how we got to this point, which is as follows:

As I was preparing for Elise's arrival, I found myself scoping out stores for what I hoped would become her version of Lamby. I knew that:

1. For as much as you can say this about a stuffed animal, Lamby has been an amazing presence in Kalina's life. (In fact, so much so that Kalina doesn't sleep with Lamby anymore. No, Lamby sleeps carefully bathed and oh-so-sweetly tucked into the top bunk of her bunk bed, usually with a smaller animal friend of her own, and kissed at least once on the forehead. The bunk bed is pulled up directly next to Kalina's bed. It is a place of supreme honor.)

2. I wanted Elise to have the same opportunity.

3. There was little I could do to convince Elise to attach to the stuffed animal I carefully chose for her, instead of, say, a plastic shovel, but I could try. 

Do you think they're related?

As long as I was going to attempt this feat, and based on our experience with Lamby, I had a few criteria:

1. The animal must sit and lay down easily, with limbs that could be arranged somewhat by a child's hands (so, a stuffed fish was a no-go).

2. It must be readily replaceable--easy enough (and cheap enough) to buy a stunt-double a year down the road if Elise did decide to attach.

3. It must not be so small that it would be mistaken for a cat toy.

4. It must not be so large that it wouldn't fit in her arms.

5. It must be thoroughly soft and sweet. No stuffed pythons, please.

6. It must not make noise or do anything that required batteries, as I wanted Elise to be able to sleep with it without being woken up every time she shifted a bit.

7. It must not be another lamb.

8. Really, it shouldn't be white. But also not black, dark brown, anything boyish, any obnoxious print or anything except a sweet pastel. This left variations of pink, lavender and yellow.

I was amazed at how long it took to find this animal, but I did, shortly after Elise was born. And so, Pink Bear quietly entered our lives. Pink Bear remained relatively dormant and ignored in favor of a stuffed whale, a stuffed alligator, stuffed dogs and armfuls of Kalina's coveted stuffed toys until I deemed it was safe to add her to Elise's crib. 

At first, I decided to make an attempt (rather halfhearted, to be honest), to limit Pink Bear's movements to Elise's crib, so that it'd be one less stuffie for me to keep track of all over town. However, my hope that Elise would attach to the animal superseded convenience, as it often does, and now we drag Pink Bear everywhere. We do have a stunt double (thanks, Aunt Nancy!). We also have Puppy, who joined us on Christmas and has not left Pink Bear's side. He, too, has a stunt double, because it wasn't worth $5 not to acquire one.

And although Elise is actually willing to play with the occasional doll or human Little People figure (unlike Big Sister until she was about 3), the toddler is most assuredly an animal person. Is her affinity inborn, or is it instead due to the fact that anyone who has spent so many of her formative months with Kalina could only assume that life must be navigated with an animal tucked under an arm? Only time will tell.

But Elise's love for animals isn't limited to her two favorites. She gleefully trots across the room if she's pursued by a stuffed predator, such as Big Blue Horse. She protectively cradles tiny animals (often belonging to her sister) in her arms, shooting the evil eye to and scooting across the room from anyone (her sister) who looks like they might take them away. She knows exactly how to feed our pet cat and mice, and is generous in her helpings. And she'll actually wield a puppet rather than always requiring us to do it.

Kalina has dutifully taught Elise quite a repertoire of animal noises, which the littler one delights in. Her earliest included "woof" for dogs and the cutest little "ppffffhhh" for elephants (and giraffes, which she associates with elephants for some reason). Pink Bear, by the way, growls the cutest little growl. Elise still wows audiences with her animal sound skills for such a young age. 

Kalina has also taught the littler girl almost everything she knows about caring for stuffed animals, and in fact, it's rather impressive that for months now the younger girl has equated Pink Bear with Lamby. Whether it's piggyback rides or performing "The Wheels on the Bus," you can be sure that if Lamby is doing it, Pink Bear soon will be, too. Although this is exactly what I was going for, it took me by surprise.

Perhaps best of all, each girl is starting to recognize which animals are most important to the other. Kalina keeps track of Pink Bear and Puppy for Elise nearly as conscientiously as she does Lamby, or the kittens, or Costume Cow and her baby Farmyard Cow, or the penguin trio (Peep, Peep and Peep). After all, nothing is more important than keeping your animals close to you at all times. And for her part, Elise kindly returns any of Kalina's animals she's "borrowed" after a polite request for a trade (which we've been working really hard on) or tears, or simply after she's had a long enough turn.

And so, it looks like it's safe to say that cuteness will continue to abound in our household for the foreseeable future. Whew.

Ouch.

The kids get along great when they're
watching TV! (During our long week
of sickness.)

My children's new favorite hobby is beating up on each other. It took me a while to be able to say this out loud: first, because I was in denial, second, because I didn't think this could happen to two sweet little girls (they ARE sweet, I promise!), and third, because I thought it was a stage and they'd grow out of it. But it's now officially not a stage, or at least a little one, so I have to try to fix it.

And it's gotten bad. The one time today when Elise wasn't trying to hit Kalina, they hugged. I happened to be wheeling them around Hobby Lobby in a shopping cart, and everyone around rushed for their cameras. I would've too, except I had to have my hands handy in case the beatings began again.

Poor Kalina, who has to be the "big girl" in this situation, is bearing the brunt of the attacks. At first, Elise only hit out of intense frustration, for lack of scalding words to pour onto the situation, or strength to grab back the toy kazoo that had been yanked out of her hands. But more recently, she's resorted to random acts of terror, stride-by boppings and unprovoked smacks right onto her sister's head. Her aim is impeccable. The only thing that saves the day is the fact that she's not big enough to actually hurt anyone. Poor Kalina, though--it's no fun to be the object of a 1 1/2-year-old's wrath when you're not much older.

New, engaging activity: oobleck!
It's cornstarch and water, so
Elise was allowed to dunk
her crackers in it.

And yet, as much as I'm tempted to, I certainly can't allow the bigger girl to retaliate in kind. Kalina prefers kicking over hitting, or subtly stepping on Elise (or trying to), which can truly cause injury (not to mention a poor outlook for future relationships). We talk about how we really don't want to send Elise to the hospital (or, at least, Mommy doesn't), and how Kalina can simply walk away. But what if Elise has got Lamby in a headlock and Kalina is  also not allowed to grab things out of Elise's hands? Then we call for Mommy to sort things out, but even a full-grown human would get tired of this arrangement.

Nearly constant vigilance on Mommy's part has gotten us through the week with no major injuries. But what about next week? And the week after?

Yesterday while Kalina was in preschool (and loving it!), I mentioned my dilemma to another mom with two girls with a similar age difference. I really like her. She's very nice. And here were her strategies:

Oobleck, by the way, does
NOT keep for a week or
two in a Tupperware.
At all.

1. Discipline by hugging: Almost any problem behavior can be cured with enough hugs. The bigger the better.
2. While her girls were younger (they're 4 and 6 now), her mom came over and they were each able to follow around one girl and divert any conflicts or behavioral issues, all day, from the sounds of things.
3. There's always an underlying issue. And you can always address it positively if you work hard enough.

Neither of these tactics fits my parenting philosophies of:
1. Mommy can only do so much, and the rest is age-accordingly up to you.
2. If you're naughty too much, people can and will get a bit grumpy: this is a natural consequence.
3. We will work through any underlying issues together. But you're still not allowed to repeatedly get away with bad behavior.
4. Hugging is not a discipline method. But there will still be lots of hugs given out.

Despite the occasional retaliation, Kalina has demonstrated remarkable patience and restraint with Elise's new hobby. More so than her mommy, in fact--possibly because she doesn't have it hanging over her head that if she doesn't correct this, she'll be receiving angry text messages about her daughter the bully throughout the next 10 years. The 3-year-old does not yet run from the room when her sister makes an entrance, but she should probably consider doing so in the near future. And she's now only kicking back when she's really tired or frustrated, which I can pretty much live with. Oh, and Elise is more or less banned from Kalina's room, but that's okay, too, if it makes Kalina feel better about her new domestic situation.

So how to deter Elise? I've tried:

1. As every parenting resource recommends, saying "No!" firmly and removing Elise. What happens? Elise head bangs and hits herself, purposely hurting herself to get attention. There is no solution for this.
2. Following the kids around and distracting them with new, engaging activities. This works for about 30 minutes, at which point, it being January and cold, we run out of new, engaging activities.
3. Keeping the girls as separate as possible considering the second-favorite activity of each is sitting on my lap, within fists' reach of each other if they have to share it, and occupying my full attention. Sometimes I use their carseats to separate them, and we go out somewhere.
4. Teaching both about positive forms of touch, including tickles and light pats (not to be confused with hitting). This has been highly successful for Kalina, who has decided that Elise's hits are actually pats since they don't really hurt, and has been tickling Elise a lot. Do I leave it at that?
5. Hugging. Okay, I'll admit it. It worked for neither girl, unless I was using the hug to physically restrain Elise (she soon wriggled out).

Interestingly, Matt's idea of dumping water over Elise in the bathtub this evening when Elise wouldn't quit hitting Kalina (and yet neither girl was clean enough to get out, yet) has proven to be the most successful arrangement. Tomorrow, I'm going to try growling at her.

I should be enjoying every moment of mommyhood, I know, but this is a toughy. On the bright side:
1. Kalina is pretty incredible. Not only is she often still sweet to her sister, but she drew her first picture of a person today! And scribbled over it.
2. Elise "cooked" Play-Doh today for about 30 minutes straight while Kalina drew the aforementioned picture.
3. They hugged in a shopping cart in front of strangers. Maybe hugging kind of works after all?

A growing list of demands

Christmas dinner #2, with Mommy's
side of the family!

Every day as I put Elise down for her nap, Kalina plays quietly in her room as she waits for her own story and snuggle. And almost every day, she needs me for something during this 10-minute period of time--possibly to re-dress one of her Calico Critters, help her blow her nose, or find a missing toy. So she emerges from her imaginary world and comes to find me in the real one, and today, it went like this:

Kalina sneaks quietly into Elise's room holding all the bedding from the bunk beds she/Lamby received for Christmas. This includes two "mattresses," a comforter and a pillow. 

The 3-year-old: "Lamby spit up all over her bedding and we need to wash it in the washing machine.

The whole family attended
Christmas morning #2!

Me: "Sure, okay." Thinking fast. "Why don't you find something in your room you can use for a washing machine?"

Kalina: "No, I want you to put it in the real washing machine."

Me: "Um." Initially stumped, but triumphant, with: "How about you put it at the top of the stairs and I'll wash it for you during your downtime?"

Kalina: "Okay. The real washing machine." Just in case I was confused.

I couldn't finish poor Elise' story without cracking up. After I returned downstairs, I folded it nicely on the couch and hoped Kalina would be fooled.

This describes our house lately, as we're as infested with germs as we are with requests.

Elise got the hang of unwrapping.

Elise, on the other hand, has very little language to make her demands known, but manages to anyway, occasionally without screams. She uses her pointer finger, emphatic grunts, and the occasional first syllable of a word to let us know exactly what she wants. 

Elise: Points at brownie pan. Points at her own mouth. "MMMMMM!!!" she states, almost toppled by her enthusiasm. After she regains her balance, her eyes pierce mine and I'm allowed one second to respond favorably before she either repeats herself, even more emphatically, or screams and writhes on the floor.

What do you think she wants? And how does she know that brownies are delicious? And will she survive the tantrum if I tell her that no, she may not have one?

Lamby gets tucked into her/Kalina's
new bunk beds.

Some of Elise's requests leave no room for misinterpretation, which is unfortunate because the little girl does not yet understand that comprehension does not mean they will be granted. The answer to, "Can I please put the battery in my mouth right now?" will still be a very firm "no, but look over here at this really cool toy giraffe!" even when Elise can ask the question perfectly in three different languages. Comprehension makes squat worth of difference.

On the other hand, some of Kalina's requests are reasonable, politely spoken and humanly possible. "Now it's my turn to play with the toy," said Kalina sweetly in the car the other day about a mini slinky that I'd handed a weary Elise to keep her happy on the way home. (This technique rarely works, but the way, but in this instance, it had.)

Elise uses her new tools to help Daddy
build a new squirrel manger.

Yes, Sweetie it is your turn. But I'm not sure I can dig up a more exciting toy to distract Elise with, wrest the slinky from Elise's grip, hand it to you and endure the rage the follows in the space of even a very long stoplight. In one of those super-mom moments that never would've happened last week in my never-ending head cold/sleepless night semi-coma, I instead managed to distract Kalina and the subject was dropped.

Both girls can be mightily specific in what they'd like, topped only by some celebrities. For instance, after brushing Elise's teeth the other night, she demanded a drink of water, just like Big Sister. "Duh," she insisted, pointing at a paper cup.

Kalina and Uncle Tom both helped
Angela a good deal with the puzzle.

Not entirely a newbie at this whole parenting thing anymore, I filled the cup with about 1/4 inch of water, enough for a toddler-sized swig, and handed it over, draping us both in a towel because bathtime, which we'd just finished, gets me wet enough already. Elise grinned at it, took a sip, and asked for more ("Mo-oh," with the emphasis on the word's second syllable). Since the child had proven herself responsible with 1/4 inch, I doubled her amount and handed it back. More grins and a giggle followed--and then a demand for even more water, without drinking what she'd had. We went through this a couple more times, me continuing to add water because by now I was intrigued and amused, and still somewhat protected by a fluffy towel. Finally, when the cup was 2/3 full, the baby had received what she'd been hoping for: apparently, a paper cup 2/3 full of water. She smiled gleefully at it for a good long while before I convinced her she'd be even happier in her jammies and off to bed.

Touring the transportation museum.

Elise puts in a good showing for a 1-year-old, but I don't think anyone can top a 3-year-old's specific requests. Kalina once spent a good 10 minutes telling me how to take care of a stuffed cow and a stuffed kitten while she went upstairs to get Lamby. I was to hold them if they cried, which they might do while she's gone, and not walk away, and feed the cow grass if it got hungry, and myriad other things that I have now forgotten (but don't tell Kalina, lest I not be asked to babysit anymore). Anyone who's ever watched either of my kids for me knows where she gets this from.

And then there are the things I'm demanded to avoid doing. "I'm going to fix a bowl of ice cream for everyone!" I might announce indulgently, gathering up our play ice cream. "No, because Lamby ate all the ice cream and now she wants to save the rest in the freezer, and the kittens can't have ice cream because they are full, and Lamby is using all the bowls for milk for the kittens," might be the response, which undoubtedly makes sense to someone. Alright, no one gets any ice cream, I guess. My mistake.

Kalina in the navigator's seat of a
train (which she preferred to the driver's seat).

My favorite, though, is they turn my demands back at me. "Kalina, will you please empty the silverware from the dishwasher?" I ask. "I'll do it after you read me this book," she replies. She's picked up on a parenting technique I use, and has the smarts to use it against me. Fortunately, I'm more persistent, and my logic is a bit more developed. An, "I'll read the book after the silverware is emptied," springs Kalina into action, and I've won. Or wait...has she? I would've read the book anyway, right? Of course I would've.

Mostly, my girls' requests are all in good fun--but they keep me on my toes. After all, how is a mommy supposed to wash a sinkfull of dishes when she's being called away every 30 seconds to search for a toy banana, help someone pretend a sock is a mitten, help clean up discarded crayon wrappers, retrieve a book from behind a toy oven, hold Lamby because she'll cry if she's set down, so my to-do list grows exponentially even as I work at it. And yet, I can't say that the banana, sock/mitten, crayon wrappers, book and Lamby aren't as important as my dishes. I guess that's what makes motherhood such a demanding job to begin with.

Merry Christmas?

Our Christmas miracle: we all made it
to a photo! Even Lamby and Lamby's
toy bath duck.

"We're doing what?!? When?!?" Mary gasped when Joseph mentioned Caesar's census.

Sometimes, Christmas is wondrous. Other times, you give birth in a barn. This year, our Christmas fit somewhere in between these two extremes.

'Twas the weekend before Christmas when the Stomach Virus first made its way into our home. It's unclear whether Elise or I contracted it first (perhaps she simply gorged on a bit too much overripe pear?), but the effects were intense and long-lasting. Matt and I agreed it was the sickest we've been since childhood, or possibly ever. In fact, I was about to enlist a Christmas Emergency plan when Kalina finally woke up happy and energetic from a long nap, and didn't throw up. Whew! Glad that's over!

Working on Christmas dinner?

We set about making final preparations for Grandma, Grandpa Les, Uncle Brian, Uncle Chris and Aunt Laura to arrive. Kalina cleaned her room, and then redecorated it with some spectacular toy formations. Elise helped me vacuum and stacked candles.

And they arrived! Yay! Aunt Laura and Uncle Chris came first, and the girls were overjoyed to have two new  playmates. Stranger-anxious Elise managed a sweet little hug for both of them, even chasing Aunt Laura down at one point to administer the little squeeze. Kalina proudly showed off her basement, and Mommy sneakily cleaned up the "accident" that had happened only moments before our guests' arrival. Kalina hoped they would never leave.

It wouldn't be a Grandma visit
without oodles of storytime!

The next evening brought Grandpa Les, Grandma and Uncle Brian. Joy ensued. In the day that followed, we took a trip to a local nature center, the girls played, people chatted, delicious food was made and eaten, amazing boy and girl bonding outings were enjoyed--it was really starting to feel like Christmas!

Watching the turtles get fed
at the nature center.

But unbeknownst to us, we were harboring a sixth guest this whole time: Stomach Virus had stuck around! Aunt Laura was the first to be stricken, followed a few hours later by Uncle Brian. And the next day was Christmas Eve.

Jolly and somber shared quarters as everyone either suffered or soothed, while also beginning preparations on a Christmas feast. After all, Christmas is really about hope, right? We'd noticed the virus seems to strike at night, and we counted down the hours until the remaining three might succumb. "You probably have at least four hours left, Grandma, what would you like to do with the girls?"

Christmas cookies!

We exchanged some gifts early, in the event that Grandma, Grandpa Les and Uncle Chris might not be with us in the morning, and we skipped church, not wanting to ruin anyone else's Christmas by sharing close quarters. We also made Christmas cookies, artistically decorating each one even though no one had much of an appetite (except, potentially, Santa). We played "musical rooms" for the night so that the sickest people would have easy access to amenities. Kalina gave Lamby a bucket, and put Pink Bear on the pretend doll/animal potty she'd unwrapped. Almost as an afterthought, we did our best to get the girls excited for Christmas Day.

The next morning, Elise bounded out of bed at 6:30 (well, as much as a toddler can bound out of a crib, which is not at all without help, thank goodness). Kalina, who had spent the night in Elise's room and had woken up when Elise did, refused to follow until her clock turned green 15 minutes later (it turns green when she's allowed to get up). And then we all hung out on the hide-a-bed for a while, where Mommy and Daddy had spent the night, being the healthiest of all our guests.

Elise played for a good 10 minutes with
Grandpa and the animals.

Soon, conversation shifted to reindeer. Had they been on our rooftop last night? Neither Daddy nor Mommy could be sure if we'd heard them. Had Kalina? How would we know if Santa had been here? We would've had reindeer on our roof, Kalina pointed out. True. And also, the cookie we left would've been eaten. Had it been? It had! And what else would've happened? Kalina's eyes turned toward the stockings (with a little nudging from me), and in the half-light, we all gazed at the festive reindeer peeking out of the Kalina's, and the soft puppy peeking out of Elise's. How magical!

For a split second, anyway. It's hard to tell which girl dove for hers first--but what amazed me the most was that even without Aunt Nancy's adorable cross-stitched designs, they knew immediately which stocking belonged to each. I'd worried that one animal or the other would be the favorite favorite of both, but that was not the case--Elise only had eyes for the dog, and probably would've scaled the fireplace to claim it had I not whisked it down to her. And Kalina was beyond delighted with her new friend, Rudolph.

A new bathroom set for Lamby!

The littler girl could barely be bothered to show interest in the rest of her stocking presents--she'd received what she wanted most, and Puppy now shares the spot in Elise's heart previously held only by Pink Bear. And, admittedly, the bath toys and plastic bowls could hardly be considered competition. Once we got to the collection of wind-up toys at the bottom, however, we were all enchanted. The caterpillar really inched, after all, and the mouse hopped, the chick scurried and the butterfly flapped.

The 3 1/2-year-old was on her fourth Christmas, and eagerly destroyed her stocking. No paper was left unwrapped as she deftly uncovered her own set of bath toys, and a bath brush for Lamby as well as a headband. She knew the routine.

Notice Santa's empty cookie plate!

We then merrily counted family members as they arrived downstairs: Grandma made it through the night still standing! And here's Aunt Laura, back on her feet! And then Uncle Chris, and even Uncle Brian! But alas, it was not all good news: Stomach Virus had claimed Grandpa Les, albeit in a somewhat gentler form that mostly left him extremely drowsy and in need of a very long winter's nap.

But hope endured, and after a breakfast of hot cocoa and bacon (among other things), we managed to scrounge together for not only a family picture, but also presents under the tree. Even Grandpa Les made it! We may have hurried a bit through our unwrapping to make sure no one dropped off before we were done, and, in fact, Elise and Matt still have a couple waiting for them.

For some reason Elise wasn't
too happy about this picture.

The tree held lots of treasures for Kalina and Elise (and the rest of us!), and all were a big hit, with the possible exception of the toy I'd sewn for Kalina (which I'm sure will grow on her!). Elise was enthralled by a ball track toy, while Kalina gave Lamby multiple baths in her new bathroom set (maybe now Lamby will smell a bit better?). Kalina also learned to play Jingle Bells on a toy piano/songbook from her musician aunt and uncle (who better to teach her?), and both girls zoomed back and forth through a new tunnel. Of course, Elise tried to get at Kalina's new toys whenever she could, and Kalina returned the favor. Unfortunately, in these instances the mood swayed a bit from the otherwise prevalent Christmas goodwill. Kalina had also made gifts for everyone, and the pride in her eyes as they were unwrapped was worth every bit of the, "Oops, let's not paint that!" involved in creating them. There were also a few presents for Lamby that consisted purely of scraps and trash with a bow and a label on them (how sweet!!).

Unwrap, play, unwrap, play,
repeat!

A light lunch led to a light naptime, which led to a lot of video game bonding among the guys, which was followed by our Christmas meal. Nine places were set; seven were filled, one of which was by someone eating mostly soda crackers; two were still not up to attending any area so laden with food. The five weary adults and two picky children did our best to do justice to the feast. Kalina mostly ate the almonds that were supposed to accompany a green bean dish (which turned into a green pea dish after I found I'd forgotten to stock up on the main ingredient), while Elise managed some sweet potato and a soda cracker. I let Kalina choose a Christmas cookie afterward so that it'd still feel like Christmas.

The afternoon slowly turned into evening, and we sadly said goodbye to Uncle Chris and Aunt Laura, albeit happy that both were healthy enough to make it to their next destination. We all then halfheartedly played with Christmas toys until Kalina requested to be put down for an early bedtime, stalled only a bit by some gentle playtime in her room.

But wait! Christmas presents weren't the only thing Uncle Chris took home with him--on a rather disastrous trip home that rivaled any flight we've ever complained about, due in part to flight problems and a labyrinthine airport parking lot, Uncle Chris also ended up coming down with Stomach Virus.

Christmas dinner! Ironic that one of
the reasons we got a big dining room
table was for this holiday.

As of this writing, Grandma is the only escapee. But will the virus strike its final victim tonight? And what of Grandpa Tom, Uncle Tom, Angela, Uncle David and Aunt Debbie, who will be visiting in the next few days? We await their fate, but can't wait to welcome them.

Meanwhile, we've spent the interim setting our washing machine to "hot" and Lysoling the bejeebers out of the house.

Not to mention playing with/negotiating over Christmas toys, as both girls found they could enjoy the other's presents almost as much as their own--so much, even, that taking turns was virtually impossible unless heavily refereed by one weary parent or the other.

It's a Girl-Lamb! The head of a
3-year-old and the feet of a lamb!
(See the tunnel?)

And yet, although we'll always be remembering it as the "Stomach Virus Christmas," we can't say it was a bad one, especially as seen from the girls' perspective. From games to stories to cooking (or "cooking," in Elise's case) to jumping on Grandpa's stomach until Daddy came to rescue him, it was truly a holiday punctuated with wonderful moments.

Merry Christmas after all!

Pediatrician visit!

Proud to be "trying on"
new PJs!

It wouldn't be Christmas week without a visit to the pediatrician, now, would it? Accordingly, we celebrated this rainy 6-days-from-Christmas Monday morning visiting the doctor to see how Elise is growing at 15 months. (I happen to think she's perfect, now let's see if anyone else agrees.)

Our last visit was little more than a week ago, as Elise had come down with a persistent virus of some sort. Proclaimed free from RSV, flu, ear infection and anything else that could be semi-serious, she was sent home to be kept comfy and recover. She hated the visit, and to ensure she would never have to return, she recovered quite quickly. In the nine days sense, she's suffered some sort of stomach virus (that the rest of us all had much worse), and is now coming down with a cold. Poor Elise--the irony being that she was deemed well enough for shots.

The toddler didn't seem to remember much about the doctor's office except for the nurse. She handled being weighed very well, as in, shrieking hysterically but not actually jumping off the scale. At 20.4 ounces, Elise is in approximately the 15th-ish percentile. And her height of 30.75 inches puts her around the 60th. We chatted about Elise's accomplishments, from stacking lots of blocks and using lots of words to learning to walk upstairs. Then the nurse was done (for a while) and left the three of us to wait for the doctor.

Kalina had been suffering from the stomach virus as late as yesterday evening, but woke up cheery and helpful, and not at all likely to mess up the waiting room floor, thank heavens. After eating two bowls of Christmas Grape Nuts for breakfast (Grape Nuts with red and green sprinkles, of course), she needed no other sustenance all morning, and cheerily fed every single cheddar snack bunny in my little Tupperware to Elise, thus keeping two youngsters happy for a good 10 minutes as we waited for the doctor, despite our cramped quarters in the exam room and the fact that I had, for the second visit in  row, failed to pack any special toys for the visit (seriously, you'd think I'd never done this before!). Elise was quite content to stuff her face with Kalina's help, but at my cautioning, the older girl made sure to ration the bunnies according to the fullness of Elise's cheeks. "Now, Elise, finish the bunny in your mouth and then you can have another one!" I heard her chirp at least once. Elise somehow managed to keep from rolling her eyes, but I couldn't hold in a chuckle.

Soon the doctor arrived, and Elise huddled quietly close to me while the doctor listened to her heart and lungs. Everything sounded perfect. The doctor asked if she'd recovered well from the last visit's virus, and I mentioned that yes, she had, but that she seemed to have acquired two new illnesses since then. That's my talented girl!

Playing with Christmas candles

We talked a bit about Elise's eating habits, and the fact that it's okay to sneak veggies into her diet in any form or fashion (i.e., she doesn't have to voluntarily eat broccoli, and her lifetime eating habits will not suffer if she refuses to knowingly even be in the same room as it as a 15-month-old--it's easier if I just disguise the stuff), not to mention a little more fat. The doctor again recommended tofu for some more protein. We checked her teeth (she has six front ones and a couple molars that have broken through) and then the doctor very pointedly asked me if she's sleeping all the way through the night. I got the impression that there was a wrong answer, but I was just happy to be on the correct side of it.

The best news, other than a healthy child, was that this visit would finish her routine vaccinations! Now, all we worry about are her yearly flu shots, a TB test at four (really??), plus the repeat anemia blood draw I'm supposed to do but may conveniently "forget," seeing as the doctor didn't bring it up (yes, Elise is slightly anemic--we're working on it with a multivitamin and eggs and chicken nuggets and she'll be just fine). And then her kindergarten vaccines, but we won't think about those yet.

When the nurse returned for the shots, I inquired what their vacation schedule would be like over the holidays. My sympathy was equal to my relief when I heard they'd be working their regular Saturday hours on Christmas Eve, and would simply be getting one day off each for Christmas and New Year's. A shame for them, but I suppose you don't become a doctor or a nurse if you want a lot of time off. And we appreciate their dedication!

The shots were over quickly, and it seemed that the ibuprofen I'd given my poor girl before the appointment actually helped--Elise screamed a bit less than usual, if that's even measurable to a frazzled mommy, and returned to her cheery self in really just a minute or two. Although I'm not so sure how we would've fared if the nurse had come back into the room yet again.

Back at home, I unthinkingly let Elise wander around most of the rest of the day (excepting her 3-hour, yes, you heard me right, nap). I should've stuck her in a grocery cart instead. At the end of the evening, the toddler quite contentedly soaked her weary leg muscles by resting tummy-down in the bathtub. After nearly 30 minutes she still was only ready to come out at the mention of medicine, to which I quite distinctly heard a cry of relief. Poor girl must have really been in pain! To confirm, I asked her where it hurt, and she pointed directly at her right leg (the unlucky recipient of two of the shots). What a smarty at 15 months!

Celebrating Christmas

Is it just me, or does it look like Lamby
and Pink Bear are smiling too?

Confession: I've been excited for Christmas 2011 for about a year now. Kalina has been too, and Elise is just happy to be a part of the festivities, as festivities in general involve all kinds of sights, sounds, textures and tastes. Thank goodness we've had Easter, birthdays, hundreds of kitten/Lamby birthdays, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and other real and pretend events to pass the time.

But now the Christmas season is finally upon us, and we're stocking up on ribbon and sprinkles, making up new words to all the old songs, and trying to give Baby Jesus a boost in popularity when stacked up against present-doling Santa Claus. And we love it.

We began our festivities shortly after Thanksgiving with Christmas CDs and a pretend Christmas tree for the girls. Before this, I refused to let the girls ogle the Christmas decorations in stores too much. "We'll look at those when it's actually Christmastime," I'd say a bit more loudly than I needed to in front of managers. Kalina quickly decided that Rudolph was her favorite song (the second year running--and ever since she's had an opinion!) and that Jingle Bells is Elise's, which probably isn't too far from the truth, as the little girl often hands me a jingle bell toy and demands I sing the tune.

Kalina introduces Lamby
to the Christmas tree.

Our first Christmas tree this year was made of felt, with ornaments to match (see previous blog for picture). Kalina immediately adopted it as Lamby's Christmas tree, and we went around in circles several times to make sure she knew that no, it belonged to Elise and Pink Bear, too. The situation was remedied with the creation of a Lamby-specific ornament or two that Kalina can stick safely out of Elise's reach.

Our real Christmas tree came a few days later. A book we'd read about "The Littlest Christmas Tree" initially steered Kalina's search, until Matt adeptly managed to convince her to go toward the bigger trees (I think he, personally, was hoping for a 10-footer!). We came home with a nice one, and set out to decorate our house.

Look closely and you can see the
animals marching two by two,
bearing some reclining sheep.

The beads are always fun.
We made a train with ours.

The nativity scene again provided lots of hilarity. Why was Camel banished to the guest bathroom? Why were only the cats good enough to share the stable with baby Jesus? And why were the animals lined up two-by-two, carrying other animals on their backs, away from the stable? These and other eternal questions, are likely to go unanswered.

We love our tree!

Kalina loves our Christmas tree, and often insists we all say "good morning" to it when we descend the stairs first-thing. She has not named it (supposedly it doesn't get a name until Christmas), but has nevertheless adopted it as one of her good friends. Yes, the girl can anthropomorphize anything. And what about when Christmas is over? She's happy in the idea that the Christmas tree will be able to go out and play in the snow. Please, let there be snow on Christmas tree pickup day!

Decorating the tree became quite the challenge, as most of our shiny, glittery ornaments overpowered Elise's tot-sized willpower. But we managed, and I decorated in layers: the top third being the most special, most
breakable ones; the next third being ones that Kalina is allowed to touch but not Elise, and the lowest third--the sparsest of the three--being ornaments that Elise probably can't hurt, nor will they hurt her.

What a festive little cutie!

And then came the Christmas lights. In no more than a twinkling, Elise decided that the glimmering displays are the best things since sliced grapes. She spent full minutes staring at our neighbor's lights while I cooked dinner, and has since pointed out every decorated house she's seen with her characteristic enthusiasm: "Gah!!!" in a very high-pitched, adorable squeal. Grateful for the displays we've all enjoyed in years past (and especially the ones that weren't taken down until February), we figured that this year it was our turn. So we decorated, including wrapping some down the pillars in front of our house, and both girls have enjoyed seeing the different colors they can make their hands (and Lamby's paws). It's truly a magical season when your hand turns green.

Although I'm not big on the, "Be good, because Santa's watching!" type of child-rearing, I have found that Christmas makes everything nicer. For instance, toast is much more fun when it's cut into a festive shape (or a cat) and decorated with a smattering of green and red sprinkles (Christmas toast!). Same with applesauce. Same with who knows what else. It's easier to get Kalina dressed when I can point out green or red in her outfit, easier to motivate her out the door to Target when she knows we might see some Christmas decorations, and easier to get her to quit whining when I can just drown her out with festive holiday music (true story). Elise, too, can be easily distracted by anything Christmasy. It helps.

Our somewhat fuzzy family photo.

And the treats! And crafts! Kalina and I have loved baking spritz cookies, cupcakes, peppermint brownies, white chocolate pretzels, and more. She's devoured her first candy canes, and has also put together some festive Santa, Rudolph and candy cane crafts. Although not quite ready for crafts and baking yet (but happy to ride on my hip to watch the activities), Elise shares in the fun by stacking and restacking Christmas candles onto candle holders, and carrying around our snowglobe while I keep a hand under it at all times (I really need to find a heavy duty plastic one). What fun.

At this point, Kalina believes in Santa (as well as Baby Jesus), and has visited him twice in the mall--which for her, means waving from afar. We even waited in line for her to stand back and wave, and he's indulgently waved back while she grins ear to ear, but refuses to actually go up and say hi. That's the closest we've ever been to a Santa picture; I wasn't even going to try with Elise. But how does Baby Jesus stack up in our preschooler's mind? I made sure Kalina knew the story, that it's Jesus' birthday, and that he was surrounded by farm animals. This, and the fact that Kalina is into babies right now, have certainly given Jesus a boost. In fact, she's even raced our little nativity Jesus around in his manger as though he's riding in a car, which is a sure sign of affection, right?

Aunt Nancy's Christmas box
becomes a boat. Would she
rather it arrive with presents
or a couple nieces?

We've done quite a bit of Christmas wrapping, making and shopping, including a legendary run to Michaels during which I managed to shop for stocking stuffers without either girl noticing too much. Kalina loves to wrap presents, and in fact, surveyed her family members to discern their favorite colors to use for bows. She also had fun choosing the labels and lining up the packages in a very straight line under the tree. Elise has miraculously left all of them alone, although she occasionally, and very gently, undecorates the tree.

Beautiful little girl attends
ballet with handsome
Daddy!

Finally, Kalina got to see the Nutcracker! With Daddy, as Mommy was at home with a stomach virus and Elise. She liked getting dressed up in her Christmas dress, she liked the ballet, she liked the Christmas tree, and she liked the ice cream Daddy bought her on the way home. I didn't get much out of her about the experience, except that she shared her ticket/seat with Lamby; enjoyed the music, dancing, and Christmas tree; and that she didn't see a nutcracker on the stage, except the one a girl dancer was holding. But that's pretty good for a 3 1/2-year-old.

And there's more in store: Christmas Eve church, more baking, more wrapping, family arriving, and, of course, the presents. I'm pretty sure it will continue to be a wonderful Christmas for our whole family.

Playing nicely

Pretending to decorate our
pretend Christmas tree.

At least once a week, we clean the playroom (formerly, the family room). That means putting every single toy in its place (or close enough), under penalty of timeout or a favorite toy being hidden away (which Kalina always needs to know every detail of--will the Camel and Skunk puppets be in a box? In a closet? Who will be able to reach them? When will we get them back? Will they be scared? You're missing the point, Honey.). We do mini cleanups in the interim, but the weekly cleaning is particularly serious, as once the floors are cleared off, the vacuum will be coming through. VROOOMMM!

The vacuum, by the way, used to be enough to convince Kalina to clear every single toy away. But after seeing Elise snuggle up to the large appliance, help me push it and squeal with glee every time I "vacuumed her toes," and observing that no harm came of it, the 3-year-old forgot her fear in lieu of a teensy bit of jealousy, and joined in the games.

It now take about 15 minutes to vacuum two rugs once the toys are picked up, as each girl needs plenty of turns to push the heavy beast, and yet I want to clean every single inch. Among the three of us, we make it a pretty inefficient process, but it gets done. Weekly.

So you can imagine my smile of dismay as I see the playroom regain its clutter within an hour, or first thing the next morning. 

Smile of dismay? I can't help but smile--while Elise wanders around methodically testing each and every object she can reach, including all the combinations of objects, Kalina has only one purpose for the toys: taking care of Lamby or taking care of Elise. 

I occasionally look up from making breakfast, or cleaning up lunch, to see Elise happily wading through a pile of toys, which Kalina adds to fast as she can. And then in a sweet little voice, "Here Elise, look! It's a bowl of ice cream for you! Look! Have a taste!" or "Elise, I'll let you play with my horsey!" To which Elise is often oblivious, which deters Kalina virtually not at all.

Sometimes Kalina invents a new game, which Elise invariably adores. Once it was throwing soft objects over the recliner. Would I have objected a year ago? Yes. Did I smile and commend Kalina for being careful to only throw soft thing when I saw it a week ago? Yes I did. They were cute, happy together, and not really hurting anything--and I could get the dishes done.

No, of course it's not all fun and games. Kalina enjoys mentally labeling toys as hers or Elise's, which can be cause for conflict: "This toy doesn't say Elise anymore, now it says Kalina!" she'll joyfully tell me when she wants to play with Elise's toy puppy. To be fair, it goes the other way, too and the bigger girl at times graciously assigns her own animals to the littler one, who sometimes accepts them only with suspicion (will they be grabbed back?). Kalina has also learned the arts of trading and taking turns--sometimes, anyway.

Elise enjoys the entertainment of an older sibling, and has already learned how to feed Pink Bear (Elise's version of Lamby!), pour her a pretend glass of milk and give her a drink, give her rides on various vehicles, including a bean bag chair that she pulls along behind her, and much more. I envision lots of stuffed animal birthday tea party picnics in the girls' future. Cute!

And this is why our rug is always messy, and why I don't put a stop to it.