This kid

This kid is four and a half.  This blows my mind.  She's a bundle of energy, a solver of problems, and a player of video games.  She loves her grandparents and her aunts and uncles, animals, the library, running, reading books, telling her sister what to do

Ivy was playing with Kezie's scooter in the living room.  She grabbed some earbuds and attached them to the handles as speakers.  "Kezie, let's plug this baby in!"

She saw a picture of an iron somewhere.  I have no idea how she made this connection, but she said, "That's a funny way to make grilled cheese." 

Ivy's vocabulary is developing more quickly than her ability to pronounce words.  When I don't understand how to do something, she reminds me to read the "instrunkins."  She can put her shoes on "easy-lee."  She likes to eat "crackas" (crackers). In her words, "I love vocab-a-larry!"

Last week Ivy and I picked Shawn up from work and went to grab lunch.  We had been waiting a minute at the drive-through window, when Ivy said, in a perfect impression of me when I'm annoyed: "Open the door, lady!"

Me: Ivy, what is your name?

Ivy: Ivy

Me; what is your full name?

Ivy: Ivy Averett

Me: what is my full name?

Ivy: Mommy Averett


I got home from work and told her I missed her.  She said, "No, I missed you, mommy, and I wished you could be here with us."  I am "her favorite Mommy," her "best mommy ever" and just simply "the best".


Ivy is always pretending to be an animal.  Her favorite is a kitty.  She also loves to be a puppy (one that doesn't lick people), a penguin, or last week, "I is pretending to be a goat.  A goat makes a sound like, 'clip clop clip clop."

When driving out to Uncle Mike and Aunt Jamee's house, which is surrounded by farms, Ivy shouted, "Hay!" 
"Hey, what?"
"Cow Hay!  The cows are eating the hay!"

Ivy loves to build and to watch people build things.  She loves robots, machines, and anything with buttons.  Shawn wanted to watch Robot Combat League with her.  I was asking about the age appropriateness off the show, and Shawn said something about "robot violence."  We didn't even realize Ivy was listening, but she piped up with, "I love robot violence!"  They did watch an episode or two, and Ivy did love it.  She enjoys her daddy time.

Halloween

I joined the league of moms who make costumes this year.  Kezie wanted to be batgirl.  Pink batgirl. 

A cape and a logo on a t-shirt are as crafty as I get.   She liked it, and she looked really cute

Ivy is a power ranger.  The gold one, which is her favorite. 

We headed up to our old neighborhood where witches fly around rooftops, ghosts float in windows, and neighbors gather for cider and nachos in driveways.  We had a great time.

Delayed first day of school post

Kezie started first grade and is doing very well

First day of school

She also lost both of her top front teeth, so she has a huge gap in her smile.  For the first few days, she had  a cute little lisp to go with it. 

Kezie has her own sense of style, and can usually be found wearing both a skirt and pants or leggings.  She loves her light-up sketchers and wears them with two shoelaces on each foot; tied at both the top and bottom.  This was entirely of her design.  She is having a great time choosing different activities each day during what her school calls flex time; one day she'll play soccer, and the next she'll do art or Spanish Club, or music.  She's trying out everything.  We can't believe how independent she's becoming.

Utah Museum of Natural History

It took an extra half hour to get there.

There are no signs. 

Luckily I heard once that it's next to Red Butte Gardens, and there are signs for that

We got quite the tour of the area around the U, but we found it

-----

Kezie quickly discovered the gear required for her future profession

 

     My little bugs

 There was fishing for plastic fish, and there were live native animals to see.

The eight-legged ones were in their own little room, easily avoided. The girls weren't bothered.  They have not as yet shown signs of their mothers' phobia.

Digging for dinosaur bones

While they both liked the dinosaurs, they surprised me with their favorite exhibits.  Ivy loved an interactive demonstration of the water-purifying benefits of marshes.  Kezie loved the minerals, especially the florescent ones.  They both enjoyed a snack from the cafe. 

Growing up

Quotable Ivy: (Here there be potty stories.  Ye have been warned)

We were driving home from Roosevelt one night, and Ivy was looking out the window  "The trees look like they are going to reach up and grab the moon!"

While chatting in the car: "I think Grandma is a girl, like Kezie.  And I think Grandpa is a boy, like me."
She's still working on it.  She has started asking if people are boys or girls, which is new.  For at least a year, she's been referring to everyone as "she."  This has gotten some startled responses from UPS delivery drivers and  male cousins.

Tonight, while we were talking about her accident in her underwear, she took a look at it.  She then, very seriously and with a straight face, said; "Mom, I think my poop is a poop puddle."

I was painting Ivy's toe nails, and she kept wiggling.  When I asked her to hold still, she responded, "Mom.  I can't control myself."

Ivy's math is coming along.  She gets one treat for certain potty-related activities, and two treats for--other potty related activities.  We delay any treats for the late evening and overnight until after breakfast the next morning. She is very good at adding these up and will give me her total as soon as she is done eating.

We are spending  a lot of time watching the Olympics this week.  As a family, we are especially into beach volleyball.  Ivy is confused by the whole idea.  She is convinced that the players are trapped behind the volleyball net.  She also seems to believe that the players are trying to jump over the net to escape it.  No amount of explaining will convince her otherwise.

 Growing up Kezie

A few weeks ago, Kezie heard about an opera recital at the library.  She really wanted to go, so I took her.  I thought she was bored, but afterward she asked if she could please, please go to the next one.

Kezie has now lost two teeth.  The second didn't fall out until the adult tooth had come in behind it, so she didn't get that cute gap-tooth grin.  She was pretty excited about the whole thing, and actually pulled the tooth out herself.  She did this while waiting for the pliers to be disinfected.  She wanted Shawn to use them to yank the tooth.  Brave kid, that one.

I am still getting used to the sight of Kezie sitting down to read a book.  She'll pull one out, climb into my lap, and proceed to read the whole thing with very little prompting.  

We now live very close to the elementary school, and go to view the construction work there several times a week.  Kezie is very excited to be starting first grade, and is very curious about her new teacher, three recesses a day, and eating lunch at school.  I am mostly having a difficult time with the idea that she will be gone ALL DAY. 


Kezie wants to be an Olympic gymnast.  And then a swimmer.  And when she's done with that she'll be a paleontologist and then an astronaut.  Somewhere in there she wants to have a lot of kids.  The kid has dreams.

I have a strong-willed child.

They say admitting the problem is the first step, except Ivy isn't a problem.  She's a gift.  A difficult, loud, exhausting, stubborn, temperamental gift.  She goes from affectionate and sweet to a raging demon in seconds.  She has to be watched constantly to keep her from hurting her sister (her OLDER sister) because Kezie is doing something not quite the way Ivy likes it done, and so she lashes out.  She can't be sent to her room because she won't stay there, and if we try to keep her there because she is a danger to others, we have to physically hold her down.  This is unpleasant for all.

Signs of Ivy's will are all over the house.  Last week when we picked Kezie up from school, Ivy decided that she wanted to play on the school playground.  I told her she couldn't do that right now, and pretty much dragged her home.  Ivy waited until I was busy to unlock the door, open it, and run out into the parking lot and down the sidewalk toward the school.  She was three houses down before I caught up to her at a dead run.  There is now a child lock on the door which is in place any time Ivy is home.

The cups and plates are in a low cupboard so Ivy can reach them, because when not allowed to choose her own cup, Ivy has been known to throw them.  There is a towel on the fridge so she can use it to open the door and see what is inside.  She has to see for herself because she won't listen when someone else tells her there are no treats in there.  A step stool is in the bathroom so she can get to it herself, and the toothpaste is clear because she must do it herself, and I was tired of cleaning up bright green paste.


Today was a typical day.  It's not quite two, and we've had two major battles today.  The second started when I gave her two minutes' notice that we were taking kezie to school.

"I don't want to do that," she said, very calmly.

Two minutes later, she was still saying it.  My usual bag of tricks all failed, and she dissolved into tears and screaming.  I had to pick her up over my shoulder and head out.  This is when the hitting and squirming to get away started.  By the time we had dropped Kezie off, there was kicking and I had to hold her legs to keep her from hurting me.

She was still fighting me when we arrived home, so I put the extra lock on the door and carried her upstairs, ignoring the screaming and trying not to get kicked.  She desperately needed a diaper change; I don't like forcing her to have a change, but this one had needed changing for quite a while, and Ivy gets horrible, bleeding diaper rash very easily.  I changed her and took the diaper downstairs and left it by the door.  I would take it out to the dumpster when she had calmed down and I was pretty sure she wouldn't come running after me.

The yelling and hitting things upstairs stopped in a few minutes, and I heard little feet on the stairs. Ivy slowly came around the corner, seeking out the diaper.  I decided to ignore her for the moment because she was no longer screaming, and if she stays calm for a few minutes, she is much easier to talk to.  I didn't want to start her off again, and start the whole process over.  She found the diaper, which I had placed up high for just this reason.  she started jumping, trying to reach it.  She then found a box and pulled it over as a stool to reach the diaper.

"Ivy, what are you doing?"

She was diaper- and pant-less and still sniffling.  "I want that diaper."

"Ivy, that diaper has poop in it."

"I want that diaper."

"That diaper is not good for you."

"I want that diaper."

I picked her up to stop the useless argument, and she snuggled into me.  We talked a little bit about why she couldn't wear the diaper, and why I had changed it.  With hugs and lots of assurances that I love her and was trying to keep her safe and healthy, she calmed down and listened.  I suggested quiet time then, and she jumped off my lap.  "OK, Mommy!"

And just like that, my sweet child was back.

She bounced up the stairs with, "Have a good quiet time, Mommy!"  and two minutes later she called to me and asked me to help put on a new diaper.  She gave me a hug and a kiss and climbed into bed for a nap.

Total time: 1 hour and 20 minutes of screaming, hitting, or trying to run away

She's asleep.  Tomorrow, around noon, we do it all again.

Ivy is a gift.  She can wrap nearly anyone around her finger with charm when she decides to.  She has a sense of humor and a laugh that delight us every day.  She simply does not care what anyone else thinks, and insults or name-calling from her peers are met with an incredulous stare and a cold shoulder.  She is a problem-solver and she lives life on two speeds; zero and ten.  Life is a musical, and we are treated her her rendition nearly every day.

I don't know how we are going to teach her to reign it in; to keep from lashing out at everyone when things aren't exactly her way.  I don't know how we'll teach her to listen to authority but not to do so blindly.  I don't know how we'll teach her to keep her fire and her drive and to use them wisely, but if we can help her figure these things out, this little girl is going to change the world.

More growing up

I got a message from Kezie last night while I was at work:

"Mom, my tooth is loose!"

Here she is with her holey smile

Showing off the gap

and hamming it up for the new camera:

Stop the room so I can get off. Please.

This is how I felt when I woke up last Monday:

While I love a good amusement park ride, this one was only fun until I opened my eyes and started throwing up.

Shawn took me to the doctor, who gave me anti-nausea drugs (which I promptly found their way back out, alas) and diagnosed an inner ear infection. Rest, fluids, let us know in a week if you aren't better.

I spent the next two days in bed, with my eyes closed and the lights off, and an audiobook playing on the mp3 player. Shawn bought me some very pretty roses, which I mostly smelled because opening my eyes to look at them induced severe waves of nausea, which is not something I want to associate with a gift from my husband. I discovered that I can find my way pretty well around the apartment with my eyes closed, though I 'm sure it was pretty funny to watch me walk in a wobbly line down the hall. Or to watch me try to eat, which I did with my fingers, by feel.

By Wednesday, I was able to open my eyes for extended periods of time without the world turning in circles around me. I was able to go in to work on Thursday, and today I'm even driving and cleaning and stuff.

I'm not completely over it: if I stay very still for a while, and then stare at an inanimate object, it starts to tilt to the side ever so slightly. I enjoy the sci-fi effect, but it is still a bit disorienting.

I would have to ask my mother to be sure, but this might be my very first ear infection. I'm hoping for 30 years until the next one.

Yesterday, just after Kezie left for school, I took out the garbage. When I came back in the apartment, and Ivy hear the door open, she jumped up and said, really excited, "Kez!" She was pretty disappointed to find out it was just mom. I love that my girls like each other.

Hwat?!?

Stacy and Shawn: Hey, Kezie! You got a giftcard from Grandma and Grandpa yesterday. If you want, we will take that money, and the money that we got for Christmas, and go buy a Wii. We could get some games, and you could play them.

Kezie: No, I don't think I would like that very much.

Stacy and Shawn: *flabbergasted silence*


Seriously. We offered her a Wii and she said no. And, for the record, her gift card was ten dollars. Apparently she has big plans for that money that involve My Little Pony, and not video games.

More quotable Kezie

I know my legs are long. I can feel their longness.

Me: *removes Lego from five-year-old's nose*

Shawn: Kezie, why did you put a Lego in your nose?

Kezie: To hold it.

Ow.

When Ivy was born, I got over my fear of needles. I had my blood drawn so many times that it got boring. There were so many bruises in the normal blood-drawing places that they had to get creative, and if felt like needles had poked me pretty much everywhere

Ever since then, I have thought about going to "donate" plasma. You know those centers where they suck out a bunch of blood, pull out the plasma, put the rest of your blood back, and then give you thirty bucks. Yesterday I took the plunge and went in.

You know you live in a college town when the plasma center is booked two weeks in advance. I got to stew about having huge needles in my arm for a whole two weeks before actually going and having it done. Then I got to wait another two and a half hours at the center. I was asked the same questions by three different people--does anyone change their answers on the third time? After two hours, do some people go, "Oh, you know what? I did take illegal drugs intravenously last week. I'd plum forgot."

Finally they got me into a donation chair, where they completely discounted my right arm as a possibility for insertion of their huge needle. My left arm was all right, but the vein is deep. First they told me that insertion may not go well, and then they handed me over to a newbie for the procedure. It didn't go well.

The blood left my arm just fine. I sat there for five minutes, ignoring the Simpsons marathon on the TV and reading my book. Then the blood started returning to my arm, and it started to hurt. I flagged someone down, and she dug the needle deeper into my arm, then left. By then the senior person on the floor had noticed that something wasn't going right, and came over. The way the needle was inserted, the blood couldn't get back into my arm. She couldn't pull out and re-insert the needle, and she couldn't adjust it without taking it out. She called over her co-senior person on the floor, and they spent five minutes apologizing to me and discussing what they were going to do.

In plasma donation, the blood is supposed to be returned to you. This is why you can donate twice a week. If they didn't return to blood to me, I wouldn't be able to donate for another eight weeks. They acted like this was a big deal, though at this point I wasn't sure I really cared. They decided that my other arm had a big enough vein for the slightly-smaller-than-huge needle that they could use just to return my blood to me, so they switched to that arm. They couldn't use that nice big vein where people usually draw blood, but had to use that smaller one on the inside of the arm--the one that hurts. I remember that well from my hospital stay and the creative phlebotomy that occurred there. So they unhooked me, and then re-attached a bunch of tubes, and then put a needle in my other arm, and turned on the machine that gave me back my blood. I noticed that they didn't leave me alone at all this time; whether to check that I was all right, or to keep up friendly conversation so that I wouldn't feel inclined to sue, I am not sure.

Once my fluids were back where they belonged, the very nice employee who was keeping an eye on me strapped ice packs to my arms, and got me a bottle of water and a granola bar (special treatment!). I could not, of course eat the granola bar, as I had ice packs strapped to the inside of my elbows, but the gesture was nice. I then had an escort to the cash machine and then the door, and was told that next time I should be sure to ask for one of the trainers, and things would go much more smoothly.

As I sit here and type with sore arms, do I think I'll go again? I spent three hours reading, in a place where no one called me Mom, and people brought me food and drinks, and I left with thirty bucks. You bet I will go again. The soreness is nearly gone, there is no bruising, and a normal donation will be a piece of cake after this one. As an added bonus; the more of this stuff I run into, the more sure I am that I want to pursue this medical career track I've switched to. I can totally handle it.

Update: there is bruising. Rather a lot of it, actually. But seeing as I had to remove the band-aids before I knew it was there, I'm still going to say that it's not so bad.

Halloween

I have found another thing to like about living in Orem. This neighborhood loves Halloween, and trick or treating was a lot of fun for the girls.My little hula girl and my little witch. Not a scary witch. A nice one. Who spent most of the night without her hat because it kept falling off.Kezie got to wear her costume to school, and spent the day eating treats and playing games. Those were the days

Almost every house on the street had decorations beyond the traditional jack-o-lanterns. There were fog machines and creepy noises everywhere. One house had set up tables and chairs and was serving nachos, hot dogs, and cider. The three houses across the street had become elaborate cemeteries, complete with lit torches, a coffin that opened and closed, and this impressive display:
The pictures don't do the ghost in the window justice. It glowed and floated around the room. I have no idea how they did that.

The night was sometimes a little bit too spooky for Ivy, who sometimes wouldn't go up to the creepier houses without me at her side. She loved saying, "Trick or treat!" and decided that it was worth it. Kezie did just fine, and seemed to enjoy the scary--but not too scary--atmosphere.



Trick or treating was one of my favorite things as a kid, and I am so glad that my girls get to have the experience.

It never ceases to surprise me when I find myself in the middle of a real conversation with my five-year-old. I'll ask a question, or she will, and the other will respond, and two minutes later I realize that not only is my little girl very curious, she is also quite bright and getting very grown-up.

Tonight, she was telling me a story about a dragonfly that she found with a friend, and I said something in the voice of the dragonfly. I expected her to react to the silliness of a talking dragonfly, but instead, she stopped, thought a moment about what I'd said, and than smiled. "That's funny."

It was no secret to anyone that I was not excited to move to Orem. I liked where I was in Ogden, I liked my house, I liked my neighbors and friends, my support network, and the walkability. I liked my favorite restaurants and stores, and the proximity to my family. I was not happy about leaving.

I have found that for me, the key to liking a new place when I move there, is to find a few things about it that I love, and that I can't find elsewhere. So, the things I have discovered about Orem that I love:

The fruit stands. Kezie goes to Cherry Hill Elementary, so named because this area used to have fruit trees galore. While I haven't run into any cherries yet, there are little peach and apple and pear orchards tucked away into a lot of the local neighborhoods, and there is often a stand outside where the family sells the fruit by the box. The price is good, the quality is good, the service is friendly, and you can actually watch people picking the fruit that you are about to eat. I have a half bushel of pears on my table right now, ripening and waiting to be canned in a couple of days.

The library. The Orem City library rocks. The selection is good. They have entire seasons of TV shoes, past and present, which you can rent for a dollar or two. They have sheet music, and ebooks, and nice employees, and a book drop that you can use even when the library is open, so you don't have to drag two kids out of the car and into the building just to return a book. Plus, if I want something that they don't have, Orem residents can also use the Provo library for free.

The BYU creamery. This tiny little grocery store has excellent prices on milk (and BYU brownies) and actually has decent prices on a lot of other things, too, including deli chicken and corn dogs. Plus, they have an in-house ice cream shop. And, in the corner, there is a picture of beard-growing contest winners from the 1950s. Methinks there is a rebel in the store management.

Provo Canyon. It makes the drive to my in-laws much shorter, and more pleasant. It's pretty. Last time we drove through it, we saw a goat riding in the back of a pickup truck, ears flapping in the wind. What's not to love?

There. Four things so far. After four months in Utah County, I think I am finally convinced that I'll enjoy spending the next five years here.

Kezie loves dinosaurs. She says she wants to be a paleontologist when she grows up. We've been to the dinosaur museums in Vernal and Ogden, so we told her I'd take her to the one in Lehi for her birthday. A few weeks later, i found out that they had reduced admission prices every Tuesday in August, so the girls and I could go to the museum for $4 total. I was really excited about this, and so were the girls.

We got to the museum, and found a line. A loooooong line, which we waited in for half an hour before we could even get in the building. It was crowded, and noisy, but it was fun, and worth the $4. We will not be going back and paying full price, though. The Ogden museum is much, much better.
Kezie's favorite dinosaur is the T-Rex. (Yes, I know this is a Utahraptor. It was too crowded to get a pic in front of the T-Rex).

Ivy's favorite dinosaur is the triceratops, so the girls built one.
There was a person working on some fossils in a lab, which you could watch from the museum. Ivy was fascinated, because there was a real person in the museum.

First Day of School

She's off to kindergarten!





I can't believe she's this big. I did make it through the drop-off without crying, though. She was so excited she hardly noticed that I'd left.

Humor at our house

Kezie: why did the chicken cross the road?
me: I don't know. Why?
Kezie: to get to the other side!

Kezie: why did the chicken cross the playground?
me: why?
Kezie: to get to the other side!
me: do you mean 'slide'?
Kezie: yes. To get to the other slide.

Ivy: Why did the chicken cross the road?
me: why?
Ivy: to get to the other monkey bars!

What's going on now. Alternate title: Minutiae.

This happened months ago, but I have to write it down in case we forget. I was at school, and Shawn was home with the kids, so it must have been in March. Ivy and Kezie were downstairs playing, when Shawn heard the sounds of a very upset two-year-old coming up the stairs and toward him. She was crying, "Daddy, help! Help, Daddy!"
Shawn rushed to help her, and couldn't see anything wrong. She tearfully held up her hand, where two of her fingers were crossed. She couldn't uncross them. He took care of it for her, and she bounced off happily to play with a, "Thank you, Daddy!"

We were supposed to go camping with the Averetts this weekend, an annual event. The campsite they chose is a great site and we had a blast there last year. On a good day, the road is rather difficult to traverse in our little sedan. We set off at eight thirty on Friday to meet the rest of the family near ice cave peak. An hour into the trip, Ivy started throwing up. We pulled over and I spent twenty minutes trying to clean up the kiddo, the car seat, and the car. She seemed fine then, so we decided to keep on. We hit construction, stopped again to let Ivy breathe because she said she felt sick, and then hit more construction. By the time we reached the Uintah Basin, patience was a little thin, but we hoped the weekend would be worth it.
Getting to this campsite requires a windy trip up a mountain, on roads both improved unimproved. I do not mean "unimproved" in the "this road is packed gravel" sense, but in the "this road is dirt and has big chunks of rock in it, and rains have been washing it away for years, and there are huge puddles"--and that's the good part. The rain pouring down and destroying the road in front of our eyes did not help. We came to a point where there was no going further. We tried other routes, and at one point I got out and walked through the rain to see if I could figure out where we were and how close we were to the campsite. Answers: I have no idea, and definitely not.
We finally gave up, and headed home wet, tired, and in a car which smelled terrible. Sigh. No camping trip this year.

On a related note: a twinkie not roasted over a campfire is a twinkie not worth eating.

The house is still for sale. It is getting almost no interest. It's frustrating; it's such a nice little house, in a great neighborhood, and I loved it. Someone else needs to love it, too.

I'm a CNA now, so I should probably go get a job. I don't mind working jobs, it's finding jobs that bothers me. It's the filling out the application, getting references, going for the interview part that I hate. Plus, there are some terrible nursing homes in existence, and I'm afraid I'm going to end up working in one. Fingers crossed.

Homemade buttermilk scones might be my new addiction. These things are good
Buttermilk scone recipe

I'm missing my friends and neighbors in Ogden like crazy. Also: my gas stove. And Szechuan chicken from Maple Express, and not getting lost, and working in my yard, and having a play room for the kids, and large windows that look outside rather than into window wells, and being closer to my family. There are a lot of good things about Orem, but nothing replaces those things.