2.5

Avery is now 2.5 years old!

 

Fun fact about 2.5-year-olds. They are simultaneously the funniest little people in the world and the most maddening. Avery is gaining skills, vocabulary and independence by the day and that combination adds up to all kinds of fun. One moment, she wants to do everything herself. The next minute she wants to be carried everywhere and sit on my lap. Changing into clothing for the day? "I need help...NO HELPING ME GET DRESSED." Ok, psycho.

 

They've gotta be funny to hide the crazy.

 

Playing right now consists of getting out every single blanket, pillow and toy on earth. You wouldn't want to miss one, lest there be a square of empty carpet. There appears to be some sort of method to the madness, as she will be playing with a toy or series of toys and all of a sudden run to another room or the toy box and grab a necessary addition to the game. I see no correlation between the objects most times, but what do I know.

 



Celebrating 2.5 with her friends.

 

We went to Sonic yesterday. I thought that after almost a month of not leaving the house except for doctor visits, we deserved a special treat. Plus, Owen wasn't napping and I was hoping he'd fall asleep in the car. Even the promise of ice cream wasn't enough to prevent a screaming meltdown on the way out the door. But we were all smiles when the ice cream arrived.

 

She's adorable. You can't hear her saying, "You're not getting my ice cream, OWEN."

 

We recently converted her bed to a toddler bed, so now she has the powers of escape. She's usually very good about staying in bed, but not always. I tucked her in for her nap today, with Golly (the Dolly) and a few new friends she wanted to sleep with. I told her that if she got out of bed, I was taking away the extra animals.

 

I went down the hall to do the Keep-Avery-in-Bed/Put-Owen-Down-for-a-Nap Juggle. Sure enough, minutes later I hear her door creak open. I go down to her room, and to stay true to my threat, took all of the extra animals, leaving her with only Golly. I told her that if she got out of bed again, I would take Golly away, too.

 

I sit back down in the glider. Crreeeaaak.

 

"Avery! If I have to come down there I'm going to take away--"

 

Thump.

 

 



Before I could even get the words out, she threw Golly out the door. And went back and got in bed.

I thought I was going to die.

She preemptively threw her doll out the door. She decided it was worth the sacrifice to be able to get out of bed one more time.

I went to make sure she was back in bed and she said something about me taking Golly away. I had to try not to laugh. But after that, with no friends left to sleep with, she took her nap like a champ.

So tonight, Alan tucked her into bed so I could finish up something on the computer. I finished it, made a list for the store and had to run upstairs to check to see if we needed toothpaste. I was surprised to see the door to Avery's room open. A full 20 minutes after she'd been tucked in. I was even more surprised when I glanced into our bedroom and saw Avery, propped up in our bed, playing with our iPad. Just chilling. Watching some 'Tube. Again, I had to try not to laugh as I reprimanded her and chased her back to her room. Who knows how many hours she would have watched various versions of "Wheels on the Bus" until she passed out cold.

 

 

 

 

The Terrible Awful

Where did January go? Seriously. I don't even know. One minute it turned into January, then the entire family got sick and stayed sick and got better for a millisecond, got sick again, and now all of a sudden it's February.

Now, I know sick kids and viruses and vomiting aren't unique to me. I know all parents have been there and done that. But seriously? I had no idea. NO IDEA.

Avery's face says it all.

So it was a totally normal Wednesday. We had spaghetti for dinner. I told Alan to go to the gym after I put Owen down for the night, so I was getting Avery all ready for bed on my own. She got in bed and all of a sudden had to use the bathroom--the big potty, she specified. Not one to stand in the way of a potential potty break, we headed in. Then she started drooling ridiculous amounts. And before I knew it, she was vomiting and I was catching it with the toilet paper in my hand. I then grabbed her potty chair and she continued to heave into it.

Here's where I thought I was a total bad-ass for keeping all of the vomit contained.

So then Avery went to bed and I hear what I can only describe as a wet cough. And I knew. So I go in and there are pajamas that need changing and a kid that needs bathing and sheets that need changing and Alan is still not home. A couple of days later we hit up the doctor, who congratulates us on our ear infection. So we're sitting on the couch, Alan having gone to get her meds, and Avery says she puked. I didn't see puke anywhere...until it started shooting out of her face. It landed directly on Owen's back; he was crawling around on the floor. So nice job protecting the carpet, buddy. (Remember Disney World? I mean it.) My first thought? Alan somehow managing to skip puke No. 2.

Taking Mr. Head's temperature.

We proceed to have two full weeks of Avery not eating, feverish kids, ear infections and hell. No really, it was hell. I don't know how I survived it.  Any time it would appear that Avery was making a recovery, she'd be awful by the afternoon again. Turned out her first meds for her ears weren't strong enough, so she needed new antibiotics. Then we headed into the doctor for Owen, because he looked like the sickest sicko in all of the land. Ear infection for him too.

The saddest little sicko.

I got hit with it about the same time Owen was getting a little better, and I realized quickly why Avery didn't eat for a week and why she was content lying on the couch watching college basketball for two hours. I couldn't move. I had chills and a fever and aches and my face felt like it was smuggling a bowling ball I don't even know how a bowling ball could fit up there but it was there somewhere. I hit up the doctor when I finally came down with pink eye or some such nonsense that rendered my eye useless. A look in my ears also got me an antibiotic for an ear infection. And Alan? He made four for four ear infections in the house. IS THAT NOT RIDICULOUS?

Round 1 of the nonsense. Poor buddy.

It was* terrible awful.

We spent at least $200 on doctor visits and medications and chicken noodle soup.

So we were on the mend. But before I could publish this, Owen started vomiting like clockwork each night after dinner, starting Wednesday. Followed by me vomiting yesterday. His antibiotics for his ear aren't working either. I know. It sounds like a joke. It's not. It's terrible awful. Send saltines.

*is, still