Tag Archives: Daddy

Daddy Quotes

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A father is someone that holds your hand at the fair makes sure you do what your mother says holds back your hair when you are sick brushes that hair when it is tangled because mother is too busy lets you eat ice cream for breakfast but only when mother is away he walks you down the aisle and tells you everything is gonna be Ok! ~ Anonymous

The father of a daughter is nothing but a high-class hostage. A father turns a stony face to his sons, berates them, shakes his antlers, paws the ground, snorts, runs them off into the underbrush, but when his daughter puts her arm over his shoulder and says, “Daddy, I need to ask you something,” he is a pat of butter in a hot frying pan. ~ Garrison Keillor

It is impossible to please all the world and one’s father. ~ Jean de La Fontaine

Parents are often so busy with the physical rearing of children that they miss the glory of parenthood, just as the grandeur of the trees is lost when raking leaves. ~ Marcelene Cox

Be kind to thy father, for when thou were young, who loved thee so fondly as he? He caught the first accents that fell from thy tongue, and joined in thy innocent glee. ~ Margaret Courtney

All fathers are invisible in daytime; daytime is ruled by mothers and fathers come out at night. Darkness brings home fathers, with their real, unspeakable power. There is more to fathers than meets the eye. ~ Margaret Atwood, Cat’s Eyes

The father is always a Republican toward his son, and his mother’s always a democrat. ~ Robert Frost

My son and daughter tell me where they are in very different ways. I know where my son is because I hear him. I know where my daughter is because she tells me. ~ Anonymous

A father is always making his baby into a little woman. And when she is a woman he turns her back again. ~ Enid Bagnold

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Happy 4th Birthday Princess!

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How time has flown by.  It was 4 years ago today that my precious sweet little girl was born.  Born at 7:56 am, weighing 7 lbs, 5 oz and an amazing 21 inches long, my Princess came into this world looking just like her Daddy.  She had a single curl right in the middle of her forehead (a precursor to the personality we would see later) and had wrinkly hands and feet from being overdue.

It was November 9th when my water broke. Hubby looked at me pleadingly, and I said “My water just broke.”  I called the hospital.  They asked if I had any contractions which I didn’t.  They told me to walk to try to bring them on, and if in 24 hours there were still no contractions, I was to come in for an induction.  So on the Monday, Hubby and I walked, and walked, and walked some more.  I had some slight cramping, but nothing that alerted me to what I presumed contractions to feel like.  That night we went to the hospital and they did an ultrasound.  I had lost some fluid, but not all and I was to be admitted.  They gave me Pitocin to start the labour.  It took roughly 4 hours before I felt anything.  The first one, I thought, “this isn’t so bad.” By 1 o’clock, the rest of my water broke.   The pains intensified greatly after that and I began to wonder how women had the ability to yell at their spouses.  I could not utter a word.   I sounded like a dying walrus.  I had never been in labour before, and perhaps I was naïve to believe that the doctors would provide me with some guidance as to how I should do it properly.  I only saw a doctor once or twice, it was mainly the nurses that attended to me.  They  told me to lie in bed, had numerous IV’s coming out of my arms and I was constantly hooked up to a fetal monitor.  I had spoken with OBGYN prior to this and we had discussed pain medications.  I really wanted a natural birth, and I didn’t want an epidural headache so I really did not want to get an epidural.  She told me that she could offer me gas, or nubane as other pain management options  By the time I was in full fledge labour, the nurse asked me what I wanted.  I asked for the gas.  She simply replied, “No, you can get an epidural, or a hot and cold compress.”  I looked at her bewildered.  Why would my doctor say that wasn’t a problem, but this nurse said it was.  While pregnant, they pumped me full of nubane, percocets, oxycontin, morphine and Demerol to ease my pain. Yet now, they were only offering a hot and cold compress.  Maybe it was because she was a night nurse and did not want to listen to my moaning or what I would later learn was that this hospital was not a great one to labour at.  She kept pushing the epidural on me, telling me it would speed my labour and that I would feel nothing.  I had always heard that epidural generally slow labour but why would a nurse lie to me? She went to school, surely she would know the truth.  Finally I conceded, and they brought in the anesthesiologist who they swore was “the best we have.”  They lied.  He hit the left side of my spine twice and the right side once before actually getting it in.  It was excruciating.  Finally once the drugs kicked in, I was able to sleep.  But at 5 am, I could start to feel pain in my left hip.  I had told the nurse that I was in quite a bit of pain, and that my hip was hurting me.  She told me it was a bed sore.  I asked, “I have an epidural, I shouldn’t feel anything.”   She walked away pretending like she didn’t even hear my comment.

By 7 am, The Princess went into distress and I was wheeled away for an emergency c-section.  It happened so fast that I can barely remember the conversation.  They told Hubby to leave the room as they had administer the anaesthesia.  Since I had the epidural, they couldn’t give me a spinal.  So they simply gave me more epidural medication.  They poked me with a needle in the wrist than in the belly and asked “Do you feel pressure, or pain?” It was the same pain.  Then after giving me more, they wiped a wet cloth on my wrist and then my stomach and asked if it was the same feeling.  There was no difference between the sensation of my wrist and the one on my stomach.  They repeated with ice chips and continually told them I could feel my abdomen.  I guess they just believed that with the amount of medication they had given me that there was no way  I could possibly feel anything.  They decided to cut anyway.  I screamed as the scalpel sliced me open and proceeded to vomit and scream “Please stop, that hurts.” The doctors words to me were “We can see the head.” I continued to vomit and scream as it was like being in the movie Hostel or Saw and being awake while being cut open.  Then they realized that there was perhaps I wasn’t exaggerating.  They told my husband to come say goodbye to me.  I was to be put completely under.  I cried as he looked at me and I would later find out they stopped him before he entered the door and asked, “Which one would you want us to save?”

It was 1 pm that afternoon when I finally got to hold her.  She was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen.  Her rosy cheeks, little fingers and toes, I had never felt such immediate and pure love and joy before.  She was mine.  All the waiting and complications were all worth it just to be able to hold her.   I kept telling everyone how beautiful she was.  That was all I could say for about an hour.  I was in complete wonder.  I still am.  Every day she grows and I see more and more, and learn as she learns.  She has grown and so have I.

She has given Hubby and I such immense joy over the last 4 years.  A wild personality, strong-willed but kind and loving, my Princess is our entire world.  I was truly blessed to be given such a wondrous little girl.  We have witnessed her first words, first steps, first tooth, first time eating food, first tears, first smiles, laughs and hugs & kisses.  The Princess made us a family and we are forever grateful.  Happy Birthday my sweet girl.  We love you so much!

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Five Rounds at Dinner Time!

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Welcome Ladies & Gentlemen.  You are all about to witness the greatest battle in Mommydom.  This is it, the Toronto Mommy/Daughter Dinnertime Showdown Championship! Through blood and sweat and tears, you are going to see two rivals face off in Five Rounds at Dinner Time.  Let’s Get Ready to Rumbleeeeeee!

In the blue corner, weighing only 35 pounds and measuring 3 1/2 feet, we have Princess Danger!  Don’t let her button nose, dimples and curly blonde hair fool you, she’s a Warrior of Defiance!  This featherweight has sharp teeth, a stiff upper lip and sneaky right hook.

In the red corner, the veteran heavyweight measuring 5 feet 3 inches tall and weights not to be told, Mommy Lionheart.  26 years in the culinary world have made her a contender, but that gullibility may be her downfall.  So Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your seats as Five Rounds at Dinner Time is about to begin!

DING!!!

ROUND 1

Mommy Lionheart starts with an opening jab; fajitas for dinner.  The smell entices Princess Danger and it brings her too close.  Wham!!!  Princess Danger falls for the grated cheese.  And a right hook from Lionheart with the surprise of chocolate milk for dinner.  Round 1 goes to Lionheart and the crowd goes wild!

ROUND 2

Round 2 is starting off with a bit of back and forth with Princess Danger crippling Mommy Lionheart with some hesitations of sitting in the middle chair.  Oh out of left field comes an uppercut to the Lionheart with Danger beginning to whine “I don’t like dinner.”  Lionheart stumbles but comes back with “You need to eat so you can grow big and strong.”  Great recovery.  Danger sits in the chair but is not out of the fight yet.  Tie for Round 2.

ROUND 3

The battle for dinner time commences in Round 3.  Both look at each other, weighing their strengths and weaknesses.  Lionheart has the authority, but Danger has a unparralleled stubbornness.  This will be a close one.  Danger is toying with Lionheart’s gullibility.  A few love taps are exchanged.  Danger plays with her food, dancing circles around Lionheart persistent nagging.  “Please eat.”  Danger returns with “I am eating, just slowllllyyy.”  Bam!!! Jab to the ribs of Lionheart with Danger sticking out her tongue.  Lionheart counters with Time Out!  Lionheart wins for Round 3.

ROUND 4

Danger is weary but not broken.  After returning from Time Out, she plays safe, slowly eating her dinner, watching Lionheart from the corner of her eye.  Lionheart eases back, sensing her contender’s submission.  Danger pulls a sneak move, dropping her fork on the floor and “accidentally” spilling her food on the floor.  “I’m all done now.” Kapow!!!  Lionheart counters with a fresh plate of food.  Danger, now agitated, starts to pout and pulls out all the stops.  “Daddy Big Softie Pants, please feed me.”  Lionheart screams “Interference, interference!”  The referee does nothing.  2 against 1, how unfair!  Lionheart does her best to keep the authority, but the arrival of the tag team player, throws her off and Round 4 goes to Danger!

ROUND 5

Lionheart is bruised and bloody but the fight continues.  The tag team is becoming too much.  Danger is only strengthened by Big Softie Pants and they begin dancing circles around her.  She swings tirelessly but it’s no use.  Danger stalls with eating.  “I want ice cream for dessert” Danger begs, and before Lionheart can jab in a “No!” Big Softie Pants throws a right hook “Only if you eat your dinner.”  Lionheart is dizzy.  She tries to negotiate with “Five more bites” but it is no use for the Dynamic Duo.  “You did good Danger, you can have ice cream.” Whoa did you see that coming?!  Despite Danger not finishing her dinner, Big Softie Pants delivers the final blow and it is the final blow to Lionheart!  TKO!!!!!!!!!  Total Knockout Win for Princess Danger and Daddy Big Softie Pants!!!!!!!!  The trophy for today is a Cotton Candy Ice Cream Cone with Sprinkles from Baskin Robbins.

 

*This is a fictionalized account of our dinner time dramas as of late.  Princess is testing every last nerve when it comes to dinner.  As you can see, I’m outnumbered”

Learning to “Grin and Bear it”

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Since learning that I am infertile, one of the hardest things I’ve had to come to terms with is learning to ‘grin and bear it’.  I will admit it is not one of my strongest personality traits as I am one of those people who whatever I am feeling is almost guaranteed to show on my face.  If it’s annoyance, anger, disbelief, happiness, or sadness, the expression is there on my face.  I don’t like to hide, I don’t like to lie, but at the same time, sometimes the time and place for such conversations are not appropriate.  My Princess is almost 4 years old now and many of our friends and family are having children.  And with that, the question Hubby and I dread is being asked at every turn.

“So,” they cheerfully ask, poking me in the abdomen.  “When is she getting a brother or a sister.”

Cue the awkward smile and shift in my stance.  Most of the time they corner Hubby and I alone so we are unable to lean on each other for support or help with the answer.  I know they don’t do it out of spite or malice, but I cringe when I am asked it.

“Oh, umm, you know, hmm, when it happens.  We’ll see how it goes.”  I divert my eyes anywhere but in theirs.  I don’t want to have to see their expression when I don’t give them a straight forward answer.  How do I say, “Well my prolactin levels are extremely high and have drained my estrogen levels so my body is incapable of maintaining any pregnancy and my ovaries are not releasing any eggs.  My body is essentially going into early menopause and I’m only 26. Oh and my ovaries are covered in cysts.”  That doesn’t really make for a great conversation.  It is one thing for me to be uncomfortable, but I really wouldn’t want to be the cause of someone else’s discomfort.  I’ve had strangers on the bus ask me, teachers at my daughter’s daycare, coworkers, friends, family and everyone else in between.  I haven’t yet found a suitable answer.

So many people I know are having babies.  My sister is pregnant and so is a close family member.  My cousin just had a baby and her sister is due any day.  My hubby’s brother had a beautiful blue-eyed baby girl 6 months ago and my friend is having a baby as well.  I am all very happy for them, I really am.  I rub their tummy’s, ask them how they are feeling, celebrate the life the life that is about to be brought into this world.  But as I smile there is a dull ache that lies inside.  It’s not cramps from bad food or from menstruation or ovulation, it’s a dull ache from a fear that I may never get to feel another kick, hear the whooshing of the ultrasound, crave pickles, have heartburn radiating through my body or be hunched over a toilet praying to the porcelain gods again.

I’ve received so many comments from people who I know mean well, but they come off so inconsiderate and back-handed.

“You just need to go back and enjoy sex again.  Then you’ll get pregnant.”

I really wish it were that simple.  Out of 28-35 days, depending on your cycle length, you only have about 25 – 30% chance of becoming pregnant.  You have to determine when you ovulate, how long your luteal phase is, how soft and where your cervix is.  I took Siberian Ginseng, Prenatal Vitamins, Evening Primrose Oil, Dong Quai and Green Tea for their ‘fertility’ aid. I was charting my entire cycle.  I charted my basal temperature, my cervical mucus, how tender my breasts were, lower back pain, how heavy my flow, how long it lasted, basically acting as an ovulatory detective searching for clues when my ovaries will release an egg and when to approach Hubby and give a very small timeline to when we have to “enjoy sex”.   Nothing says ‘sexy’ like “We have to have sex right now and tomorrow and I have to elevate my hips for 30 minutes.”

“Just chill out, you are way to stressed.”

Unfortunately stress and infertility often go hand in hand.  Stress can lead to infertility and infertility only increases stress.  It’s a damned if you do, damned if you don’t kind of situation.

“You should be grateful you have one child.  Some people don’t have any.”

I would have to say this is the most inconsiderate and cruel comment I’ve ever received.  I am very grateful for my beautiful brown-eyed, blonde curly-haired little Princess.  She is my entire world.  I look at her and thank every lucky star in the universe for giving her to me.  We almost lost her at 3 months, and the cord wrapped around her neck during labour and she was born via c-section.  I hug her and kiss her and tell her how much she means to me every single day.  Most of my happy moments are the ones where I am with her.  But I also dreamt of giving her siblings.  A house full of siblings.  I always wanted to be a mom to many children.  I took care of my sisters and babysat many children.  I love kids.  Their laughs, smiles, their attitudes, everything about them makes me smile.  They are so innocent and happy that it always boggles my brain when people say they annoy them.  The old adage “Barefoot and Pregnant” was my mantra growing up and I couldn’t think of a better dream for me.  I’m not talking about pulling a Dugger, but I wanted at least 4 kids, if not more.  Just a house full of children running around, me ragged and tired, but overjoyed.  The doctor says I’ll be lucky if I am able to have one more.

“There’s always adoption and surrogates.”

Generally it’s these people who know nothing about costs and legal matters.  These options are not always available to everyone.

I think what hurts the most is that I have to look at my little girl when she asks me where the ‘baby’ went and why she doesn’t have a sister and try to come up with some sort of child-friendly response and then look at my Husband, who wanted a house full of kids and try to articulate ‘I’m sorry’ that I let him down.  I am 26, at the supposed height of my fertile years and have to say “I’m infertile”.   I never thought that phrase would ever come from me.  I’m not embarrassed or ashamed.  I have come to know many people who are infertile and are suffering from what I am suffering from.  It’s just an overwhelming sadness, guilt and grief that is so very hard to explain, comprehend and come to terms with.

After 2 years of trying to get pregnant, I have found an online community that has truly helped me realize I’m not alone and one blogger in particular, Practical Katie and her post “When One Isn’t Enough” really did help me understand this.  And to my readers, your kind words have really helped pick me up when I have been feeling down.  I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugliness of Daycare

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My Princess has been in daycare since she was 18 months old.  I went back to work on weekend and nights when she was about 10 months old but didn’t go back fulltime until she was 16 months.  I moved from Ottawa to Toronto when I was 7 months pregnant and decided that when I went back to work, I wasn’t getting a transfer.  I knew I needed a job that paid the bills, left a little in the bank and would still cover the cost of daycare.  I searched all over Toronto but most were either inflexible hours, too little pay or ridiculously far away from where we lived.  So I found a job where I worked nights on the weekend.  Despite hating it, it put money in the bank and I didn’t need a sitter.  But eventually it just wasn’t enough, I really didn’t want it to be my career, let alone my job.  So I started looking again for another job.

Finally I found the job where I work now.  I am a food writer for a catering company in Toronto and I’m also the Head Catering Coordinator.  The hours are great, so are my coworkers and it is only a 35 – 45 minute commute each way.  Not bad for Toronto.  I began my search for childcare.  We found one woman who ran her own daycare out of her home who lived near us.  She was relatively priced, had children of her own, so it seemed like a great fit.  We went away the weekend before I was supposed to start and when we came home that Sunday I had a message on my machine.

“I’m really sorry to do this to you so last-minute, but I’ve changed my mind.  I’m closing down my home daycare.”

Are you serious?!  Thank goodness for my in-laws who helped us out extraordinarily with our search for childcare.  They watched her until we found someone else.  While I was searching for the first place, I had come across a Nanny (or so she called herself) that was fresh out of college.  She was currently working at a daycare, but wished to go into business herself.  She was willing to come to our home and watch her.  She was all up to date with her CPR and First Aid.  She graduated from the Early Childhood Education program at a Toronto College.  She had references from daycare, families and other related jobs and all the references came back stellar.  I even had a police background check done and it was clean.  I did my research and was thorough, she was the person.  It wasn’t long until we learned our lesson.

It started off fairly early that she was not showing up to work, or calling in sick.  Once she told me she couldn’t work on Monday because she “thought” her cousin was getting married.  Then we started to hear from our neighbours that there were people waiting outside for her throughout the day.  We had a discussion with her and told her that under NO circumstances was she to have anyone in our home.  She said she understood.  Next thing we noticed, food from our fridge was missing.  Not a little bit at a time, like cans of soup, tube of cookie dough, you name it, it started to go missing.  We started looking for daycare, because it was getting to be too much.  Then this (insert expletive) did something so atrocious that she will rot in a special place for what she did.  Hubby and I keep all our twoonies to put in the Princess’ piggy bank.  It goes towards her college fund and the Wednesday prior to this day, we had counted it and there was $100 in it.  Hubby suggested that we roll it and put it in the bank.  The next Monday, I came home from work and found numerous Tim Horton cups in our trash.  I remember she brought one when she arrived that morning, but there were three in the garbage and Hubby said he didn’t have any.  Then I went to the sink and found three bowls of Alphaghetti in there.  And none were of my daughter’s special children’s bowls.  Hubby said when he got home, there was someone waiting outside.  Hmm.  My spider senses were beginning to tingle.  I was going to call her that night to ask if she had anyone over.  But first, I had twoonies in my purse that I was going to put in her piggy bank.  Now I kept our laundry money, spare change jar and the Princess’ piggy bank in our bedroom with the door closed.  She was aware that our bedroom was off-limits and she was never to go in there.  So that night, when I went to put the change in the piggy bank, I lifted it up and much to my surprise, it was EMPTY!!!!  Oh I have never been so angry in my life!  I began frantically searching around my home for 50 twoonies.  Asked Hubby if he had taken them to the bank and he said ‘no’.  So I called her.  And this is how the conversation went.

“Hi (insert name).  Did you have someone over today?” I asked calmly.

“No.”

“Well Hubby said he saw your friend outside.”

“Yeah, they were waiting for me.”

“Well I found coffee cups in the garbage.”

“Oh, well they came up to use the bathroom.”

“Did they eat my food too?  I found bowls in the sink.” Rule number one for criminals, get rid of the evidence.

“Ummm.”

“Listen, the Princess’ piggy bank is empty.”

“I never went into your bedroom.”  Caught you!

“That’s funny, because I never told you that’s where the money was.”

Dead silence.

“Listen, you are fired and I’m calling the cops.  You stole money from a baby!  You are low.”

I called the cops and they came and took our statement.  I was assigned a detective and they tried numerous times to call her and go to her place of residence, however, because she lived in an apartment building, and she didn’t answer the buzzer, they couldn’t go in the building.  Robbed a baby and got away with it.  But I was offered this little tidbit of information.  Apparently, in Canada, if you have been arrested but never charged formally, these offenses never show up on your record and our dear sweet thief had been arrested TWICE for shoplifting and theft and ONCE for domestic abuse, but all charges were dropped.  So my background check did absolutely nothing to protect my child.  I did however, call her references and informed them of what she did and they were absolutely wrong to give such stellar ones when she was nothing but a thief.  I felt so guilty after that.  I left my child in the care of someone who robbed her.  Stole money that was to be for her education.  I felt like I made the worst decision of my life.

Soon after that, we found the daycare where we are at now.  It was close to home, reasonably priced and was professionally run.  That is not to say we were not without bumps in the road.  Three days after going into daycare, our Princess contracted Norwalk Virus, and had vicious diarrhea for 3 weeks.  She lost so much weight and her poor bum was so blistered that we had to put a steroid cream just to keep them from bleeding.   She was so miserable it was devastating.  The daycare fortunately refunded us 2 weeks of the cost, however, Hubby and I had to alternatively take days off work just to care for her.  I had literally just started a new job and was missing days out of the week.  I thought for sure I was going to be fired.  But I had no one else.  The daycare wouldn’t take her.  After she finally got over that, it was maybe a week before she got an ear infection that spread to her eyes, throat, sinus and lymph nodes and sent her into a fever that was so high I had to put her in bath of cold water.  She screamed bloody murder.  I put her on the couch naked to try to cool her down when she started to have a seizure.  Her eyes rolled back in her head, she started to shake uncontrollably and was gasping for breath.  I was frantic.  I have epilepsy, but to see it happening to your child is frightening.  She had 12 seizures that day.  She was rushed to the local Children’s Hospital where she spent days in and out of it for close to six months.  Any virus or germ or bacteria that was going around her daycare, she got it.  I never believed it when people told me that once you put them in daycare they get sick all the time, but they were right.  Her drastic change in health put a lot of strain on us emotionally, physically and financially.  I was starting to wonder if going back to work was the right thing to do.

She had lost so much weight and became so weak that she had troubling walking.  She would collapse for no reason, continued to have seizures any time she had a fever and we went for countless tests.  Seeing her hooked up to an EEG machine, with wires running off of her head was so heart breaking.  She went to visit a pediatric neurologist who gave us good news.  She wasn’t epileptic, although her chances of developing it later in life are increased.  He gave us pills that were to crush in her cheek if she had another one and to monitor all her fever’s closely.  Thank GOD she hasn’t had another one after that.  It took about a year in daycare before she was able to ward off any viruses.  But despite her not getting them, she brought them home to us.  Hubby never got tonsilitis until we put her in daycare.  But as soon as she went in, he was getting it every 2 months.  He could even tell before it hit that he was getting it.  Finally in January, after going to the doctors, he had his tonsils removed because the doctor said that his tonsils were basically working against him.   The surgeon said they were the size of meatballs they were so infected.

Now despite a tumultuous year and a half, there were great things about the daycare.  My Princess is a social butterfly and has so many friends.  We would have parents come up to us and say how much their children talk about her.  Kids would fight just to sit next to her.  Her daycare also had fashion shows, plays, puppet shows and field trips that has greatly enriched her life.  Just this week she was able to go to the African Lion Safari which is where you drive through a park of African animals and get to see them close up.  She got to see monkey’s and lions and loved how the monkey’s climbed on the car.  They provided her with life experiences and friends that she may not have gotten if I had stayed home.  I am not worried about her going to Kindergarten now because of how well she flourished in daycare.  I also know now that her immune system is stronger, she won’t be missing that much time at school.  I would recommend our daycare to anyone and if we have another child and I go back to work, we will definitely be using that one again.

Toy Review – Brain Quest Flash Cards – Ages 3 & 4

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Brain Quest

Last year we were becoming worried about the Princess’ speech development.   We could understand her but many people outside of family and friends would looks to us to translate toddler.  My in-laws said they thought her speech was fine but there was this nagging feeling inside me that she wasn’t where she should be.  I asked her daycare teachers and again they said she was fine but if I was concerned, maybe I should invest in some learning tools.  There is a Chapter’s on the concourse level in the building where I work and on my lunch I went to look for speech developing books.  I found Brain Quest cards children aged 3 & 4.  They come in a box, with 2 decks and questions on both sides of each card.

The questions range from differentiating sizes and shapes, finding similarities and differences, letters, numbers, objects, mazes and much more.  They have the questions printed on the card, but parents are encouraged to make up their own as well.  If they ask for example “Which baby is sleeping?” after the Princess answers, I ask her to count how many babies are in the picture.  The cards allow the children to pick their own pace, develop language skills and have fun at the same time.  The creators also provide helpful suggestions on how to get the most out of these cards.

  1. Introduce Molly the Mouse.  She is the main character of the cards and appears in many of the questions.
  2. Help your child enjoy the Game.   Feel free to reword the questions or make up your own.  Help by giving clues and constant praise.
  3. Let your child’s responses guide the game.  If for example your child chooses the ‘bird’ as the answer, when it’s really ‘stork’ then allow that to be the answer.
  4. Relate the game to your child’s everyday life.  Pretty self-explanatory.
  5. Broaden your child’s interests.  If there is something in the cards your child isn’t familiar with, introduce it to their life such as a story, tale or nursery rhyme.

These cards we very inexpensive and do not require any batteries, special attachments or game pieces.  They aren’t a choking hazard and they are small enough that they can be carried in your purse on long trips or to dinners when you need them to be quiet.  The Princess’ speech has improved greatly and we are no longer concerned.  She loves these cards and asks us to play each night.  We only some a night so she doesn’t get bored of them too quickly.  She likes them and so do we.  Only downside is that with frequent use, the cardboard covers begins to wear where it is fastened to the rest of the deck.  4 out of 5 stars!

We had some ‘Paranormal Activity’ last night

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You know the movie Paranormal Activity and the scene where the child hovers eerily over the bed, with her hair all in her face.  That happened to us last night.  It was cool and dark, the only sound was the humming of the air conditioner.   We did not hear footsteps.  Hubby and I were sleeping peacefully, dreaming away when all of a sudden a presence appeared.  It shook us unnervingly.  We began to stir, our dreams fleeing with the fluttering of our eyelids and then Hubby saw it.  Standing over our bed, not saying a word, stood a 3 year old, her blond curls in her face wearing nothing but her pull up at 2:17 am.  Hubby screamed the loudest and jumped the highest I have seen.  Those high-jumpers in the Olympics would be hard pressed to match the height he got to.  His shrieks woke me and I started laughing my head off.

“Princess, what’s wrong?”  Hubby asked her when he caught his breath.

“Nothing Daddy, I just really like your bed,” she giggles as she climbs into our bed and then for the rest of the night, sleeps sideways, leaving this Mom and Dad with a sliver of the bed on either side.

Hubby rolls over in the morning to give me a kiss and whispers this in my ear; “That kid is determined to shave years off my life.”