My mother-in-law reminded us the other night of a time several years ago when we had "ice cream for dinner." One day we all went to Dairy Queen, and instead of having dinner-type food, we just ordered ice cream. Whatever the children, several years younger at the time, wanted. I had forgotten all about that day, and since that time we haven't repeated the special meal.
This morning I had gotten up later than usual, mostly on account of the children sleeping late after a complicated night. My daughter had wanted to go to sleep listening to an audiobook on her iPad. I've been trying to get her interested in listening to audiobooks more since she can't watch television, doesn't like movies with assistive audio and can't play games on the iPad anymore.
She, just like her brother, resists anything new. But just like her brother, if I can just get the movie or book started, even if only for a few minutes, I can get them hooked. Last night I'd downloaded the month's free Audible Original children's book, but it wasn't very long time-wise. I'd been hoping she'd get interested in the Ramona Quimby series, which totaled over eighteen hours of audio time.
Of course, she didn't want to have anything to do with it. So I started playing it, hedging and saying I had to download the other book first and in the meantime, I wanted to see if I remembered what the Ramona Quimby books were about. Sure enough, two minutes later, I asked what she wanted to do, and she said she wanted to keep listening to find out about Ramona's sister, because, "she is so annoying!"
We took her iPad up and stuck it in the bed with her, and I assumed she'd fall asleep. Over an hour later, I brought her brother in and found out she was awake and still listening. Her brother wanted to read to me, and I stayed up in his bed with him, letting him excitedly read to me the cartoon story of DogMan for a half-hour, after which she was still awake. I gave her some melatonin and figured she'd drop off to sleep soon since she rarely stayed awake long once she laid down each night.
Two hours later, her brother came down in a panic. The lights were off in the room, and I was confused by what happened next. Suddenly my son was in bed with me, upset, and something hard and wet was thrust in my face.
His arm was itching terribly inside the cast, and to try and make it better, he'd run water all over the cast. He was trying to dig his hand down into the upper part of his inner arm and wanted to know what we could use to scratch deep inside there. He was shoving all the batting into the depths of the cast and was in enough distress that I couldn't reason with him well.
I told him we could put baby powder in there, but we had to dry the cast first, or it would stick, clump, not get deep enough to help and he'd be no better. I got the hairdryer out and started drying off the cast with him jumping about and fretting. That's when his sister arrived in the room, indignant that there was so much noise and she hadn't gone to sleep yet (it was after midnight) and what was happening?
They nearly went to blows at this point, but thankfully my husband arrived. I ordered Benadryl to be administered to both of them: her for sleep and him for help with the itching in his cast.
I was able to get most of the cast dried and did manage to get some baby powder down into the area he was itching most. And then they both, thankfully, fell asleep. And that is why I got to sleep in this morning because they were also sleeping in.
I got up and decided to get donuts since it was the last weekend before my son starts school. I came back with late-morning donuts. My husband was out working, and I was trying to get lots of things done while he was away in preparation for the start of the week and the first day of school. My son came in at lunchtime and wanted to know if he could have another donut. I told him yes, but that after he ate it, he had to help with a load of laundry—that his sister was finishing folding the first basket of laundry and his basket was next.
This was sort of tactical, a bribe perhaps because I wanted him full of calories and willing to help. The last laundry folding with him was a battle and a half, and I didn't want a repeat. He said sure (shocker there) and had taken about two bites of the donut when my daughter, finishing up folding the white cloths in the bedroom, cried out, "ICE CREAM TRUCK!"
They both ran out the door, telling me they'd hold the truck while I got the money. There was no, "can we have ice cream?" question even, the children were just beside themselves with excitement. The time was odd for the icecream truck to arrive; typically it's late after dinner and just right for dessert, so I don't think they realized it was smack in the middle of mealtime.
I got the money, they got ice cream, and I had to finish most of my son's because he was already full of donuts. When they came in, we talked about donuts and ice cream for lunch, and that it was a special day. Then we talked about the laundry and how they were helping the family by doing the folding.
It was a delicious lunch, but a healthy fail on my part. Both children had a good time, and I got the laundry folded without complaints, though. We'll have a better dinner tonight.
The Big Boy Update: My son and I watched some home improvement YouTube videos while we folded laundry together. He was interested in it all: backyard landscaping, kitchen redo, man cave, and craft room. They were short segments, but he was excited about each of them and has decided we need to redo our whole house and yard as a result.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter loves to climb in the tree in the front yard. I should be concerned about either of my children outside, climbing in a tree alone without someone to call out to in case they fall. I remember when I was a child, I was up in a tree in our front yard for hours and my parents didn't make me have a buddy, and there was no such thing as a watch phone. And how is climbing a tree any different than anything else they could do outside where they might get injured? I can either helicopter parent or hope they stay reasonably safe. The fact that my daughter is blind should be no different, and yet I worry more about her. She got lost today on her scooter and was several houses down the road. She realized she wasn't on our street when she encountered a sidewalk, but wasn't sure where our street was to get back. She asked someone where she was, and it turned out to be friends of ours (she was only five houses away). She asked Alex if he would walk her back home and he did. She told me she would have called if her watch had been on. She decided she would make sure to wear it more. She wasn't bothered by the experience at all. She self-advocated for help and got home and told me about it when she got in. She's learning every time something like this happens.
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