Ramona, Willa, the blanket, and a little panic attack

Willa and I have been sailing through the Ramona books at night. We're on the third book now. The one that Ramona's mom gets a job and Beezus says, "now you get to be liberated!" and Mrs. Quimby smirks. Willa and I love Ramona and her antics. She can't wait to find out what happens next, and I can't wait to be reminded.

We were reading tonight when Jim came up to make sure I hadn't fallen asleep. It had been a particularly long (and exciting chapter - Ramona had to apologize to Susan with the boing curls for smashing her owl) and Willa's room is my favorite in the house.

So cozy.*

Anyhow, the night before Jim had given Willa an additional blanket for her bed. It happened to be the afghan that my dad had a woman make for me. It was a present for my high school graduation and had the Grand Valley logo stitched into it.

And our dogs have taken to sleeping with Willa at night. On the bed. I don't mind them sleeping with her, but dude... not on that special blanket.

So, Jim switched it for me while I was lying next to Willa in her bed - right before the Quimby's returned from Parents Night at school. He tucked us in and kissed both of our foreheads and left.

She asked why that blanket was special to me. I told her that my dad had it made for me before I moved out of their house when I was 18. That number caught in my throat. I looked at her with wide eyes. She's four. I have 14 more years. Phew... Wait! She's four and a half! Ohmygosh, she's practically gone!

I pulled her closer, kissed her forehead, and continued the rest of the chapter, getting some deep breaths in between paragraphs.

*Cozy can be yours... house on the market for 2 months. No buyer interest at all. Not worried. More later.

Showing signs of wearing

Pals, I am tired.

If wishing made it so, Henry would be a better sleeper. Also, I'd have fresh watermelon on my kitchen table while I typed this.

Yesterday was kind of a rough spot for me. We got up, I took the kids to daycare. Got Willa out of the car and had her waiting on the sidewalk. Pulled Henry, in his infant carrier, out of the car and we walked in. I set Henry down and his teacher said, "uh-oh... it's looks like he spit up."

Which was her way of nicely saying, "holy moly! The kid is drenched from chin to toe!"

He's normally not a spitter. I think this was a reminder that mom needs to be mindful of garlic intake.

On the way home I started to get upset. I took my baby out of the car. I walked him 40 yards into his room. I set him down. All without looking at him. All because I was too distracted with "what's next."

The morning was actually a good morning after that. But I was consumed with "what the heck is wrong with me?!".

It still troubles me. I think the working full time, and being a mom of 2, and not sleeping has finally caught up to me.

2 days off next week. Should be good.

Me, the kids, and a 6 foot tall mouse

Willa has finally filled up her sticker chart. So, wheeeee, we're heading to Chuck E. Cheeses tonight. Jim has class, so I'll be negotiating the token to ticket to prizes (can't wait to take home our small rubber lizard) and her alternating fear/adoration of Chuck when he comes out to walk around.

Side note: I think I've shared here before, I was Chuck E. in high school. Once, while kneeling down to be at eye level with a tot, a hooligan came up behind me and knocked my/Chuck E's head off. That poor tot is probably terrified of all costumed characters as a result.

When Henry was born, we expected some issues to arise with Willa. I know about regression, and expected it. Nothing happened until Henry was about 2 month old and then Willa, who still sleeps in a diaper because of night time wetting, started pooping in her diapers.

So, we changed the incentive chart to be specific to this issue and darlin' got a lady bug sticker every time she came downstairs with only a wet diaper. 12 stickers fills up a chart, and as a prize, she's received various trinkets. This time around it's a destination.

Truth be told, if we were parents with scruples, she'd have filled up this chart and gone to visit Mr. Cheese about a week ago. I know this is kind of defeating the whole system. Rewarding behavior at the time of behavior is the way to go. I'm all about catching her doing good stuff. But March has been insane in Sinkiville, and so the occasional forgotten sticker was swept under the rug.

Skiball here I come!