Security Items 2, Mommy 0

So, according to those parenting books, it is relatively normal for children to have security items.  You know the type - teddy bears, fuzzy blankets, a dog with one eye that you aren't allowed to wash but you can smell from 10 feet away.  My son has a full sized quilt that he drags around the house with him.  How he has not killed himself going down the stairs with the thing, I will never know.  Lowly has now decided to one-up him in the weirdness factor, and is demanding a pair of shoes.

When we were on vacation, Daddy picked out a cute little pair of denim shoes for Lowly.  The other day she wore them for the first time for about 20 minutes.  She spent the whole time running back and forth from the dining room to the kitchen, staring at her feet.  When she inevitably fell, she would sit for a few moments and poke at the bows on top of the shoes, then hop up and keep running.

That evening I noticed she had little blisters on her feet.  Nothing terrible, and nothing a pair of socks wouldn't prevent, but still, I felt bad.  One year olds should not have blisters, even if they clearly aren't bothered by them.  I put the shoes away under her bed, made a mental note to make sure she wore socks with them, even if she's just puttering around the house, and I decided to continue letting her run barefoot for a few days.

Last night, Lowly noticed the shoes under the bed, dragged them out and brought them to me.  I informed her that it was bedtime, and handed them back.  She then threw them at my feet, and for the next five minutes stood there yelling at me and stabbing her little feet into the shoes.  (She couldn't quite figure out how to get them past the elastic strap on top.)  I tried picking her up to rock her, but she arched her back, went all rigid, and screamed all the louder.  All this coming from the child who will not wear sandals and likes to fling her socks around the car.

Finally, I gave in.  It was late, I still had to get her brother to bed, and it sounded like he was trying to sneak himself a bowl of Cheerios downstairs.  Figuring that she wouldn't get blisters from just wearing them (as opposed to walking in them) I put the shoes on her, picked her up, and rocked her again.  This time, all was well.  She absentmindedly played with the bows, and within 10 minutes, she was asleep.  I'm not sure how I got the shoes back off without waking her up.

Yes, I know, I know I've created a monster.  But she can scream until she's blue in the face - she's never walking out of the house with shorts with "juicy" written across the back.

Hail, Vacations, and General Mayhem

I was all set to finally write a post last night when we were hit with some sort of apocalyptic hail storm which turned into torrential rain.  (Seriously, I saw less rain when Hurricane Irene hit.)  That in turn caused the gutters to back up, pour in through my bathroom window, and back up around our water heater.  Six towels, one cookie sheet, and a shop vac later, we're more or less back to normal.

Last week we went on our first family vacation, to the Poconos.  The kids had a great time, and WeeBee was fascinated by the concept of being on vacation.  They had a great time at the pool and the historical farm that we visited, where WeeBee decided he wanted to take home a sheep.  He was less impressed with the rooster that bit his finger, but that's what you get when you insist on poking your little fingers through the cage.  Besides, everyone needs a good "I was attacked by a bird" story.  Almost twenty five years later, I still remember the nasty goose that stole my peanut butter and jelly sandwich when we were on vacation in New England.

In the "what mayhem have my children caused" category, Lowly is walking/running.  She's still not one to babble for the sake of babbling, like WeeBee was.  She has about 10 words she uses to get what she wants, and the rest of the time she's perfectly content to watch whatever chaos is surrounding her, and then give you the raised eyebrow.  This kid's sense of timing is unreal.

WeeBee's 3rd birthday was a few weeks back.  I guess that makes him a preschooler, not a toddler?  Either way, he's shot up another six inches or something, and I'm starting to feel short standing next to him.  I was really hoping to postpone the "stand next to Mom and see who's taller" contests until he was a teenager.  He still likes to climb up in my lap and give me hugs, though, so it's all good.  :)