For all of you who said I should write a book about my children and their antics, here it is. Well, ok, its not a book, but close enough.
So, how does one proceed with beginning a blog anyways? Do I need an introduction to the topic at hand, or should I just get started assuming my audience already knows the key players? Since my readers will be limited to my mom, mother-in-law, and two best friends, I guess I can safely assume you all know that I'm Ivy, a slightly confused (yet paradoxically over educated) mother of two daughters that has a hang-up for coffee. I live in a small town on a small budget, but I have an overactive imagination to keep me amused in my down time. But enough about me...
The antics of my children. The reason why I don't necessarily sleep well at night, thus necessitating another cup of coffee. Yesterday was Emily's Second Birthday. Yesterday happened to be a Monday, so her birthday party was over, yet we wanted to do something special despite the unseasonable heat. Dad (Ryan), a bike enthusiast, opted for the family to go on the annual Custard Cruise, a three mile bike-trip for parents and tots. Riders start at the park, ride through the forest preserve to the Ollie's, pig-out on calorie and fat laden delicious custard packed into crisp waffle cones, and ride back. The plan was laid with the idea that Nora, who is now officially four 1/2, would ride her own bike and I would tow Emily in the carriage.
This plan did not suit Nora Grace. "I want to ride in the back with Emmy!" Ok, ok, its probably too hot for her to ride that far anyways. Never mind I haven't ridden my bike in a year, my leg muscles are about as firm as that custard I'm looking forward to devouring, and the carriage with two kids weighs about 70 pounds. Oh yeah, and we're gonna ride to the park, so its way longer than 3 miles. And its still 90 degrees. Great Idea! See the smiles on our faces! I even put on lipstick for the pics...
My pasty-white legs are wobbly by the time we get to the park. All these other fit, lean, and tan riders show up. Oh my god, I'm twelve years old and back in gym class. I can see it already, I'm gonna be waaaayy behind everyone else. I'm so gonna get picked last if we decide to play kickball after the ride. Six-thirty arrives and the ride begins, and as predicted I'm behind the pack two minutes into our trek. But, I made it. Actually, a mile and a half wasn't too bad, except for the fact I couldn't stand straight between my weak legs and sore butt. Totally worth the free Ollie's, and I got to finish Emily's portion. Excellent.
After the kids ran off most of their sugar, we headed back to the park. Emily and Nora love the slide park, so we decided to bear the heat and let them run around. We weren't there for five minutes when Ryan comes running over to Nora and I, cradling Emily like a baby. "Is Em ok?" I asked. No--she was dehydrated. She must not have been drinking the water from the squirt bottles. I just about panicked; I say "just about" because full-out panic mode doesn't help anyone. Inside: AAHHHHH!!!!!!! Outside: Get water in her! I poured water into her mouth, which seemed to stop the shaking pretty quick. We got her back into the carriage/tow-behind, and she had enough energy to scream and protest leaving the park unceremoniously. I peddled as quick as I could, which wasn't very quick at all, but we made it home.
I considered taking her to the hospital despite the fact she was smiling and in better spirits. I decided to wait a minute or two more before making any decisions, there would be a sign, I was sure, to tell me what to do. We put her to bed, and as always, she got back up. I went in there to lay her back down, yelling out (as I'm prone to do) when I realized she had taken off her diaper and she was buck naked. Oh Emily!! Can't you keep your diaper on for anything? I popped it back on and decided it was a onesie night, dehydration or no dehydration. As I got her dressed, Ryan stopped in the door and said, "Oh God! No wonder you were yelling like that". Huh? Its just her diaper...what the...
In my haste to check on her, I failed to notice she launched some bombs out of the diaper by the door. Apparently I had stepped in them, squishing them into poop pancakes. Well, that's a sign if I ever saw one. Kid is ok. Situation normal here....
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