She's a Wild 1

With lots of laughs and so much fun,

Our adventurous Eleanor just turned one!

A year ago, at this time, we were adjusting to our new normal and finding our footing as a family of four.  Meeting our newest daughter was life changing, of course.  Over this past year, Eleanor has smiled, waved and climbed her way into the hearts of so many people around her.  She is a happy and outgoing baby who has never met a stranger.  She loves animals, people, waving, clapping, climbing, food, music and most recently, books.

From the moment she was born, Eleanor’s presence in the world has kept us on our toes.  She has endured Amelia’s love from the get go, even when it isn’t always gentle.  She is Scout’s best friend and loyal follower.  She is our little bit, who isn’t so little anymore.  Where Amelia hasn’t stopped talking since the moment she was born, Eleanor hasn’t stopped moving.  Seatbelts, shelves, steps and chairs are no match for this one.

Eleanor is a brave girl with no fear.  Hopefully, a healthy amount of fear will turn up during her second year of life.  She has been brave in the face of ear infection after ear infection, a cranial ultrasound, unidentified allergies, eczema and ear tubes.  We are so grateful that these are all minor battles.  Eleanor smiles through it all.

So, when it came time to celebrate our littlest girl, we did not hesitate on a theme for her party.  As soon as we came across the idea of a “wild one,” we knew it fit her perfectly.  We approached it more as an adventure theme, but decorated with wild flowers and wild animals.  The party favor was animal masks; the decorations were all pinks and greens.  The food included “Choose Your Own Adventure Trail Mix,” “Hippo in a Blanket,” “Lion Cheese and Crackers,” “The Watering Hole,” “Zebra Cookies,” and of course, cupcakes (which were arranged in the shape of a flower).  My favorite decoration turned our banister into a jungle of monthly pictures depicting an ever growing, but always-recognizable Eleanor.

Eleanor simply loved her party.  I will admit that she had moments of uncharacteristic clinginess, but this was minor.  She loved having people in our house and spent most of her time crawling from person to person.  Eleanor’s least favorite part of the party was the icing on her smash cake.  She didn’t hesitate to put her hands in it, but once she tasted it, she immediately gagged.  That lovely moment aside, Eleanor was a big fan of her birthday.  We didn’t have to deal with any meltdowns or tantrums.  Eleanor (and Amelia) was social, content and only dealing with a slight-sugar high.  Like all overzealous parents, we took picture after picture.  So, prepare your hearts, social media, for an onslaught of even more pictures of my adorable one year old and her party.  They’re coming.

As we celebrate the near-constant milestones as a family with young children, I am once again overwhelmed with gratitude.  I am thankful for the family and friends who not only celebrated with our girl, but who also cover her with love daily.  She is one lucky little girl and as her parents, we are so grateful to be a part of her adventure.

Thank you for celebrating our wild one, whether it was in person or from afar.

The Call is Coming from Inside the…Daycare

As any working parent knows, it happens to the best of us and usually, at the worst possible moment.  You sit down at your desk to write a report, you start up an email, you pull your next group of students, your class is coming in from recess, you are walking down the hall to a meeting, and/or a client/parent/coworker/boss just started talking to you about some urgent matter and, that’s when it happens.  Your phone rings.  Despite the disapproving glances toward you or between your coworkers about how you insist on having that phone with you, even though your office is only fifteen feet away, your attention is suddenly, fully and irrevocably focused on that small, omnipresent piece of technology.

The caller ID is there, of course, and you find yourself debating whether to actually answer, but knowing that if you don’t, you’ll end up with an un-ignorable voicemail and an even shorter amount of time to make a plan.  So, you answer.  As you swipe your finger to start the call, you are flooded with more than a bit of trepidation.  Your schedule for the rest of the day, and even the week, flashes before your eyes in that millisecond before you hear that familiar voice on the other end of the line. 

The call begins with a perfunctory “how are you?” that gives you a microscopic moment of hope.  You find yourself thinking, maybe my child has done something wonderful, maybe they’re calling to tell me about the latest special event, or maybe my child chose to swim in mud, or maybe, just maybe, my kid is the biter today and they’re just giving me a heads up before I show up this afternoon assuming, as I do everyday, that everything is rainbows and butterflies.

As quickly as these thoughts appear, they fade.  You hear a teacher affirm that your child is sick.  You are flooded with so many conflicting emotions; you simultaneously list who you need to notify at work that you’re leaving, feel guilty that you sent your child to school at all this morning (but how could you have known?), tally up the sick days you have left (ha – who has sick days left?), wonder if you can take this aforementioned sick child through a drive-thru on your way home, judge the odds of getting into the pediatrician for a same-day appointment, feel guilty for all that you’ll miss at work, pray that their immune systems really will be Hercules level resilient by kindergarten and then are completely awash with the desire to get to that child and make everything better, as only a parent can. 

Working parents everywhere are all too familiar with this scenario.  At this point in the year, I come to work everyday with a ubiquitous fear that I will get that call.  During this particular school year, with double the kids for the first time, it has happened more than I expected.

So, bosses, when we miss more work, go easy on us; none of us are hoping to get the call.  You have no idea how gross little kids are when they’re sick. 

Coworkers, go easy on us. We will get it done.  We’ll pull our weight.

Other parents, go easy on us.  We didn’t mean to expose your little angel.  I’m sure you’ll have a turn to be the exposer instead of the exposed.  I promise we won’t openly hold it against you. 

Pediatricians, go easy on us.  We know it’s the fifth time in two weeks we’ve seen you; we also know that no, you won’t give us the eleventh visit for free once we fill in our frequent visitor card and that there is no prize for filling in an imaginary bingo card of seeing every provider or coming to the office on every day of the week.

Daycare workers, first and foremost, thank you for knowing our children enough to know when they aren’t well and for being the first one to hug them while they’re waiting for us to get there (and go easy on us).  Know that we really do think they’re better when we bring them back, even though sometimes, they (or those magical little cups of medicine) fool us.

P.S. Wash your hands.