1 Mother 2 Another

Friday night, Maddie had a bad dream.


Saturday morning, she told me she didn’t want me to leave for
work. Apparently, in her dream I left and didn’t come back,
and she was afraid her dream would come true. Getting myself
disentangled from her was a bit difficult and she was crying
quietly when I left.


The rest of the day seemed to go just fine, but then nighttime
came. As soon as we made our way towards the bed, Maddie started
tensing up and worrying. She spent the entire reading time stuck to
my side like a leech, saying she was worried her dream would come
back. I snuggled for a long time and finally left. Ten minutes
later, she began calling for me. Mom went in instead, and
eventually came downstairs saying, “Yeah, you’re going
to have to go in. She’s crying, she’s so
worried.”

As I was posting yesterday (which was
actually late Tuesday night) I realized as I re-read my blog that
it could have been worse – the girls could have been sick
instead of just up a lot. I toyed briefly with deleting the post,
just so I wouldn’t upset the capricious gods of Malicious
Sleep-Deprivation.


Cue up Tuesday night’s marathon.


Maddie slept straight through the night – no worries –
but Cora more than made up for it. She was up EVERY HALF HOUR,
fretting and tossing and whimpering. When I went in (alternating
with Brian) she’d complain that her throat hurt.
“Huh,” I thought. “I’d think it’s
strep except she’s not throwing up.”


And then 5 a.m. came.


Yes, Cora began throwing up. Yes, I took her to the doctor. Yes,
she has strep.


I’ve actually come to relish the strep diagnosis –
it’s an easy, clearly definable fix, and I know that within
twelve or so hours my child will feel significantly better. I
simply have to survive the first few hours of begging for popsicles
and water, and having them thrown up repeatedly.


Now, though, she’s on antibiotics, so this next night must be
better.


Right?

Monday night I got home from rehearsal and
climbed into bed just past midnight. Wide awake with song lyrics
and dance steps running through my head, I didn’t fall asleep
until 1 a.m.


1:05 a.m., Cora woke up crying. I nudged Brian, who reluctantly
stirred and went in for a cuddle. Crawling back into bed a few
minutes later, he hissed, “That’s the third time
tonight I’ve had to go in to her.”


Uh-oh.

I started rehearsals yesterday for a show
I’m doing in a couple weeks. I haven’t done one (like,
a real one) for years and didn’t go looking for this one;
I’d sort of told myself I wouldn’t be seeking anything
like this until both girls were in school full-time. But this came
up, and it’s fast and easy, and most importantly, the theatre
is kid-friendly. The director has kids of his own, and when he
expressed a desire to do some daytime rehearsals I’d pointed
out I have Cora. “Bring her along!” he said.


Ok.

Friday evening Maddie’s school had a
fall festival, and we threw caution to the wind and went. They had
a chili cook-off, copious desserts, face painting, bounce houses, a
small train ride – I’m telling you, it was big time.
And since Maddie was deliriously happy running around with all her
school mates and the next day was a Saturday, we decided to let the
girls blow a bit past their bedtimes and stay up late.


Now, when I say “stay up late”, everything’s
relative: their usual bedtime is 6:30 p.m. – and even then, I
have to wake them both at 6:30 a.m. to get them up for the day.
We’ve missed family birthday celebrations and free tickets to
shows because of our adherence to this bedtime. But we were trying
an experiment – we’ve been derided by friends and
family as too strict on the bedtime, and thought it was a safe
place to see what would happen. So we didn’t start walking
home until 7:15, and the girls weren’t dressed and in bed
until 7:45.


Let’s just say we won’t be doing that again.

Yesterday afternoon Cora and I were
heading to school to pick Maddie up. Cora was walking, and I was
pulling a wagon loaded with water bottles, two scooters, and two
helmets. After half a block Cora said, “Mommy, I want to ride
in the wagon.”


Cora climbed in, crammed into an uncomfortable corner because of
all the gear. She took a few sips of her water, then said,
“Mommy, when I said ‘ride in the wagon’, what I
meant was ‘get my water’.” And then she climbed
back out.


Cora has an overwhelming need to win (don’t know where she
gets that) and has a terrible time admitting she’s wrong
(ditto). This has led her to her newest strategy, entitled
“What I Meant Was . . .”

We went to our duck pond last night after
dinner, hanging out and playing a bit with the girls’ friends
Paige and Becca. I spied our friend the heron over on the other
side, and we ambled over with some stale bread. The girls delighted
in throwing the bread to the ducks who came begging, and we were
careful to stand near the heron but not right in front of him,
being as nonthreatening as possible.

My poor Maddie is sick with an ear
infection. Up Sunday night complaining, she's been miserable ever
since. We hit the doctor Monday morning and, though she tried hard
to go back to school afterwards, I called and audible and turned
her around at the admission desk; she was so tired and in pain she
was weeping the whole time.


This is a doozy - every time the Motrin wears off a fairly decent
fever comes back up. Poor kiddo is clinging to me and miserable,
and I'm throwing video after video at her trying to get her mind
off the pain. We'll see how she wakes up today - I'm praying the
antibiotics have taken effect overnight.


Here's hoping she's up and around soon.

When Maddie started kindergarten, she
already knew a half-dozen kids in her school from our neighborhood
playgroup. She walked into school that first day part of a gang,
and knew that at recess she’d meet up with her friends and
have playmates ready-made, no awkward first-meeting stuff to deal
with. And when the kids had to go into the school by themselves for
the first time, with her posse all held hands to give each other
moral support, a string of kindergarteners stronger than their
individual parts.


I’ve got my own posse too – all the moms who stand
outside and anxiously watch their babies walk into school, away
from them. And I have to tell you, I don’t know what
I’d do without my homies.

Last night, Cora and I were cuddling
together in her bed at night-night time. Cora’s a very
physical person, and we were lying snuggled up facing each other,
so close our noses were touching. She loves being mashed into me,
and I could see contentment etched on her features.


“Oh, Mommy,” Cora sighed, breathing out slowly.
“What is it, baby?” I asked back, smiling lovingly.
Cora took my face in both her hands and gazed into my eyes.


“You’re on my pillow.”

Now that Maddie’s on the educational
grid, so to speak, we’re diving deep into the bureaucracy of
the public school system. Formal notes for sick days, homework
folders completed just so, weekly folders signed and returned
immediately, and so on.


And then, of course, there was Maddie’s first report
card.

Maddie had Monday off of school – to
the rest of the country it might have been Columbus Day, but here
in Texas it was state fair day. We have the coolest, biggest state
fair in the country (and I’m not being a sarcastic New Yorker
here, I really love it) and every school district gives students a
day off and a free ticket to go.


I knew Monday would be jam-packed, but I wanted to go to the fair
before it closes this weekend. And Maddie’s been handling
school so well, and is so tired, that I threw caution to the wind
and took Tuesday off to go instead, giving Maddie a four-day
weekend.

I’ve written a couple times about
Cora’s babysitting gig – she “helps” take
care of Paige, an 18-month-old toddler, occasionally as
Paige’s mom Allison helps me by taking care of Cora. Cora has
babysat Paige twice and has taken Paige on as her own personal
mission. Every time we walk to school drop-off or pick-up, Cora
wonders aloud if Paige will be there, or if she’ll be left at
home while her big sister Becca is dropped at school alone.


If Paige is at school, Cora will feed the child Cheerios one at a
time. Cora will find Paige’s pacifier. Or blankie. Or water
bottle. Or whatever Paige may (or may not) want. If Paige starts
wandering off, Cora will say, “Paige,” in a half
exasperated, half amused tone. And then she’ll chase after
her

Last Friday afternoon the weather was
gorgeous here and I wanted to figure out a way to enjoy the day
with Maddie after she got out of school. By Friday my child is a
walking zombie, so going to the park was absolutely no use at all.
But I finally came up with something.


Cora and I walk to pick up Maddie every afternoon, Cora riding in
her wagon because the walk’s just a smidge too far for her.
That afternoon, we showed up at the school with a wagon laden with
goodies: our big picnic blanket, a bag of Clementine oranges, a box
of Annie’s bunny mix, ice water, stale bread, and a huge
stack of books. We walked to the duck pond near our house and
proceeded to have the best. Afternoon. Ever.

Here’s the most recent:


Maddie: (very hot, and dripping wet) “Whew! I’ve got
the sweats!”


Cora: (at the park, running on the sidewalk) “Mommy look
– my heels kick my hiney when I run! Move, hiney,
move!”


I love my job.

6 a.m. I get up. Unwillingly. I get ready
for the day, make a grocery list, pack Maddie’s bag, prep
their breakfasts, and go to wake up the girls.


6:30 a.m. I start the wake-up process. This takes half an hour,
from “I’m not ready to wake up!” to coming down
for breakfast. Maddie gets out of bed only with the promise of some
maple sugar for her oatmeal.


7 a.m. I finish cooking the oatmeal and dish it up to two
unenthusiastic girls. They eat, we do hair, wrestle on shoes, and
head out the door.


7:45 a.m. I drop Maddie off at school and stay until the bell rings
– as I’ve promised Maddie I will do. Even though
she’s inside and would never know.


8 a.m. Cora and I read Puss In Boots twice and play four
rounds of Puppy Bingo. Cora wins every time.

Cora and I went shopping on Friday,
looking for some basics for Maddie to fill out the holes in her
winter (and here in Texas I use that term loosely) wardrobe.
Unfortunately for Cora, Maddie’s hand-me-downs are copious
and cute, so Cora rarely gets to pick out many of her own clothes.
I was feeling generous (and was at the outlet mall. With a coupon.)
and told Cora she could pick out ONE outfit for herself.


Ecstatic, Cora began studiously perusing the store. Flipping
through racks and rounders of dresses and pants and skirts and
sweaters, Cora turned around and spied –


Blue sparkly leggings.


Cora gasped. A love affair was born.