Sunday, March 24, 2013

Name That Tiger

Mike Vogts posted on FaceBook:
 
I sometimes play "The Adjective Game" with the girls.

Kayla: Daddy you're funny.
Me: You're super funny.
Kayla: No you're super funny.
Me: You're exceptionally funny.
Kayla: No you're exceptionally funny.
Me: You're surprisingly funny.
Kayla: No you're surprisingly funny.
Me: (searching for another word)...You're staggeringly funny.
Kayla: No you're staggering funny.
Me: Staggeringly.
Kayla: Staggeringly would be a good name for a tiger.
Me:....Yeah, I think it would be.


Affirmative!

Loki, the dog, was nosing at/licking something under my chair.
Me: Is there something under my chair?
Megan: no
Me: What's Loki licking?
Megan: I don't know what it's called.
Me: Can you get it?
Kayla: I can!
(Kayla picks up a paper.)

Kayla: It's a piece of paper!
Me: Loki was licking a piece of paper?
Megan: Affirmative!

Tuesday, March 05, 2013

Mornings

Our work schedules necessitate getting the girls up around 6-6:20am, which is about an hour earlier than their natural wake-up time. And it shows to, as getting them going is always somewhat of a chore. We learned early on that simply turning on the lights and telling them to "get up" wasn't sufficient, so most mornings the "Scoop" is performed, which is essentially just picking up each girl and holding them for a bit while they stumble into consciousness. It works to varying degrees, but there is usually drama of some kind, particularly from Megan, who in the evenings fights sleep like a Viking warrior. There are always grumbles, and sometimes even tears, during the process, but of course once they're away for a bit and get a little breakfast they perk right up and are ready to roll.

So this is part of the background you need to properly appreciate the scene this morning. The other part is this: Kayla and Megan have been pretty sick the past few days, with the flu/norovirus (according to the doctor). Started in Thursday evening, and lasted until Sunday night; even water was coming back up for the duration. Jenn had them to the doctor Saturday, got some anti-nausea pills along with the diagnosis, but it was a solid three days of nothing staying down for very long. The girls were just wrecked; they'd get up out of bed and want to "wake up", go into the living room and watch cartoons for about a half hour, drink a few sips of water, throw it back up, then ask to go back to bed and sleep for another couple hours.

Finally yesterday the fog lifted and we were somewhat back to normal. Ate a lot of crackers and toast all day without issue, played somewhat normally, and while they were still somewhat lethargic it was otherwise a normal day. Bedtime came late last night, around 8:30, because sometimes schedules get disrupted and Mommy and Daddy don't pay attention to the clock. Megan was out like a light, but from what I hear Kayla outlasted Daddy.

This morning I instinctually faded closer to 6:30 for the girls wake-up time, as I suspected this morning was going to be a rare chore. They were better yesterday, but not all the way, and probably did not get as much sleep as they should have due to the late-ish night. They've been off-schedule since Friday, weren't back to full strength, would be hungry....my guard was up. Sure enough, simply exposing Megan's face to light was enough to elicit guttural groans, and the flat-out crying commenced as soon as I picked her up. Usually as long as they can sit on your lap and snuggle in a bit they're OK in the mornings, but this morning Megan was just flat crying, not even wanting to lay her head down on me. Even her body language was protesting: "I do not want to be upright for any reason whatsoever, and you're histories greatest monster for making me do so". This went on for a couple minutes, until finally she settled down and stopped crying, but clearly wasn't in any mood to go get dressed, or do anything but try to fall back asleep on me. Kayla was likewise still motionless in bed.

Then the strangest thing happened. I, almost rhetorically, asked them if they wanted pancakes for breakfast. Megan sat up and looked at me, saying "Mommy said we could have toast for breakfast." Sure, of course, you can have toast, and I'll even cut the crust off, even though I did this a dozen times yesterday and swore I would never make toast again. 

And that was it, the switch was flipped. Megan started telling me something about her dolly and immediately went to get dressed. Kayla got up on her own and started doing the same. They were chattering in that way they only do when they're happy: a non-stop barrage of facts, stories, and remembered occurrences as they seek your affirmation on what they think and experience. Actually making the toast (and waffles, as it turns out) was literally the hardest part of my morning after that. 

You just never know.