Changing the Game

I am not happy. I recently discovered some information that changes everything. Yesterday morning we were eating breakfast--the delicious combination of toast and peanut butter--and Liana's starts complaining about her tooth hurting. Now, Liana and Gillian are always complaining about various phantom pains and ailments, so we didn't pay much attention to her. A moment later, she yells,"My tooth is wiggling! I have a loose tooth!"

Mom and Gillian rush over to her to investigate and sure enough, one of her bottom front teeth is wiggling. I think a trip to the dentist is in my future, but she starts jumping up and down, cheering. "Yay! I can't wait for it to fall out so I can use my tooth pillow and get a prize from the Tooth Fairy!"

What now? You're telling me that I spent the last year of my life suffering as my beautiful teeth pushed their way through my gums and now they're just going to fall out when I'm five? Not acceptable. I've currently got four molars coming in, so my normally pleasant demeanor has been replaced by a crabby one that can be set off by anything (today I cried any time I dropped something on the floor and any time someone left a room). But now I've discovered that this pain is all in vain. What's the point?

I'm not happy with you, teeth. This is not the end of this.

P.S. Liana brought home the news from her classmates that the Tooth Fairy is now paying $5 per tooth. Maybe I'll reconsider.

A Day in the Life

Doing a post like this last year was a big hit, so I thought I'd try it again. Sorry the day didn't include any pooping on the floor or vomiting. I did my best. Happy birthday to Gila and happy "Wear Your Ramah T-Shirt Day!"

7:15 am: Wake up to Gillian's screaming. She has already lost her dress for the day (one of the biggest consequences she can get), and now she has lost TV for the day. Oh, the horror.

7:16 am: Dad gets me from my crib and realizes I am covered in jelly goo from my diaper exploding. Reason #27 I do not like disposable diapers.

7:20 am: Into the shower with Mom. I like to line up all the soap bottles and talk to them like they are my minions.

7:30 am: It's "Wear Your Ramah T-Shirt Day," so Mom and Dad are trying to convince the girls to wear their shirts. Rioting ensues. If my shirt fit me I would wear it, but it goes down to my feet. Only Mom and Dad end up wearing their shirts.

7:50 am: Breakfast musical chairs. Liana has Cocoa Puffs with no milk. I have Cocoa Puffs with no milk. Gillian has the unholy combination of Cocoa Puffs, Frosted Mini Wheats, and Raisin Bran with milk. I take Liana's bowl. Liana takes my bowl. Mom brings out cups of milk and tells the girls not to drink mine. Therefore, I don't want to drink mine, so I drink Gillian's. Gillian pours her mushy mess of cereal into my bowl (which was actually Liana's bowl) and asks for dry Frosted Mini Wheats. Mom refuses. Gillian screams. I take my original bowl back, leaving Liana with nothing. Liana gets a new bowl of Cocoa Puffs.

8:05 am: Begin the mad rush to get to the bus stop by 8:19 am. It was bad enough before, but now we have to deal with coats, hats, mittens, etc. It's ridiculous.

8:13 am: Ready to go outside. Mom has me strapped on her back and realizes I don't have a hat on. Liana has already gone out the door, so Mom hands Gillian my hat and asks her to put it on my head so she doesn't have to unstrap me. What is she thinking? Luckily, I survive.

8:22 am: My favorite part of the day. Bus! It's one of the few words I say that people besides Mom and Dad can actually understand.

8:45 am: Mom is trying to get me and Gillian into the car to take Gillian to school. I decide to poop because it's more fun to do it at the most inconvenient time possible.

9:00 am: We drop Gillian off at school and head to grocery shopping.

9:27 am: Some guy comments on how awesome my hat is. I don't care for it and am only wearing it because we couldn't find any others. I don't like people talking to me in grocery stores. I know I am awesome. You don't have to tell me. I look the other way and ignore the guy.

10:15 am: I help Mom carry the groceries into the house. She tries to give me small things like bread. I want to carry the #10 can of crushed tomatoes. I carry it a few feet and then decide I'd rather just roll it. I am big, strong and awesome.

11:00 am: Mom is cleaning out the pantry so I go to organize the spice cabinet (which means taking everything out of the spice cabinet and organizing it on the floor).

11:04 am: Mom finds a ball in the pantry and throws it to me. Goodbye, spice cabinet--my life has meaning now.

11:45 am: Have a tickle fight with Mom, during which she realizes I have four molars coming in. Now she knows why I've been cranky this week. It wasn't the time change, silly.

11:50 am: Mom has made me crazy now, so I'm just running around the house, screaming, and finding many crazy and fun ways to play with Mom's Camp Ramah sweatshirt. I turn the easel into a car and drive around the house, still screaming.

11:58 am: Stickers are more fun when you put them on your face.

12:05 pm: Lunch. Veggie burger, cheese, pickles.

12:40 pm: Mom tries to put my diaper on so we can go pick up Gillian. I am not interested, but she wins that battle.

12:50 pm: Into the car to get Gillian and I fall asleep.

3:55 pm: Up from my nap. Proceed to eat most of a jar of pickles. (Both in honor of Gila and in an attempt to bring about vomit for Gila's birthday today.)

4:04 pm: Out to the bus stop. Gillian stays home by herself to play computer. Is that really a good idea?

4:10 pm: Bus!

4:35 pm: Liana yells, "Gillian poured water on the computer!" Mom rushes over--it's only a couple drops.

4:40 pm: I'm vrooming my big pink Barbie car around the house because that how I roll. Lightning McQueen and Ramone (from the movie Cars) are driving the car. The more cars the better. After a few minutes of vrooming, I start crashing. They don't call me The Smasher for nothing. Gillian's ponies can't hide from me.

5:30 pm: Dinner. Spaghetti and broccoli. I actually eat the food that's on my plate instead of everyone else's.

6:15 pm: A little after-dinner smashing and then attempting to steal Halloween candy from my sisters.

6:30 pm: Bedtime already? I run naked through the hallway in an attempt to escape bedtime and the horrible nighttime disposable diaper. Again, I lose the diaper battle. The girls sit calmly reading with Mom while I read my favorite book, Banana. It's about two monkeys who want to share a banana and the only word in it is banana. I may only be 21 months old, but I can read my first book. Except I pronounce the word banana as "a-ya-ya."

7:00 pm: Into bed. I snuggle up with my eight binkies and stare at my nemesis The Frog as he lulls me off to slumberland.

I have a drinking problem...

The first step is acknowledging you have a problem.  Fine, I will take that first step.  I have a drinking problem.  I know, I am just 21 months old and I cannot get enough of the stuff.  If those months were years, this would not be an issue, but alas, I am just a toddler and those months are just months. Anywho, I cannot go through a meal without wanting at least a cupful, and that is a lot for someone with my figure. 

All drinking problems have to start somewhere and mine started with Gillian.  She always wanted a cup at meals and my parents caved in like the craven individuals that they often are.  She looked so cool, relaxed, like she was having a great time.  I wanted that.  I needed that.  I craved that.

So now we are at lunch.  I had carrots and a quesadilla, pretty standard fare.  What goes good with that lunch?  That is right, a cup of the good stuff.  My mom had her cup and I really wanted it.  I had been seeing G partake at meals and wanted to make that mine.  My mom did not want to share, so she poured me my own cup.  I was so nervous with this being my first time; I did not know what to do.  I was winging this and I know I made some mistakes.  I made a huge faux pas by dipping my quesadilla into it.  Not half bad actually.  It accentuated the cheese really nicely.  So I decided to dip my carrot into it.  As I got the carrot up to my mouth, I decided I was more interested in "the sauce" than I was in the carrot.  I sucked the groovy gravy right off of that carrot and proceeded to dip like it was the Passover of 1999 (I heard there was A LOT of dipping that year).  The carrot was not getting enough into my mouth.  A choice had to be made.  I am not proud of my decision.  Please do not lose respect for me.  I threw the carrot on the ground, picked up the cup, took a deep breath, and just started to drink.  It was leaking out my mouth onto my shirt and smearing all over my face.  When done, there was a sizable burp and I wanted more.  Since that meal, I scream until my mom brings me the cup of the good stuff.  I need help.  Please.  I am too young to be experiencing addiction like this.

My name is Asher and I am a ranchaholic. 

Rules for Parenting

Now, my mom had three kids, so she should know some things about parenting. Number one on that list should be "If your child has been taking laxatives once or twice a day for the last week and just started pooping again yesterday, don't let him run around the house without a diaper no matter how bad the diaper rash is." If you choose not to follow rule number one, rule number two on the list should be "If you are in a different room from the diaperless child and he starts yelling, 'poop!' go to him right away." My mom did not follow either of these rules today, and let's just say there was an incident in the playroom. One of Daddy's Rubik's Cubes ended up in the trash and Sweetie Belle ended up where no My Little Pony should ever dare to go. Hopefully Mom has learned her lesson.

Lazy Sunday

Today was the first day in a long time that my family had nothing to do. Every week day is busy with school and activities and grocery shopping and stuff like that. Saturdays are for synagogue. Sundays are for Sunday school or some other synagogue activity. Today there was no Sunday school and it was one of the rare Sundays with no Sunday school and no other programs or commitments. Plus we got the extra hour. We were beside ourselves. What were we going to do?

Well, it was supposed to be a nice, sunny day, so Mom and Dad got the great idea to take us to a park and play with the camera. It's hard to get pictures of all three kids together, so they thought between the two of them they might be able to get something. First stop was Nana and Gaga's backyard. We had just gone out for brunch, so everyone was full and should have been in a good mood. No such luck. Liana and Gillian were in their usual moods and didn't want to have anything to do with each other. I was busy pooping (I went five days without a poop this week and had to start laxatives, but that's another story). Nobody wanted to cooperate. They set us up in a few different positions, but mostly we just screamed at each other. And then I got strangled, which is how family photos usually turn out. So, Mom and Dad gave up on their brilliant idea and we went to the playground for a little and then just relaxed at home. Despite the rough start, it turned out to be a nice day. It's nice not to be busy. Here are some of our photos from today (you can click on any of them to see them larger):

This one almost worked...except for Liana.

Here's a decent one of me.

Look how sweet she can be.

Up in a tree, too distracted to smile at the camera.

No choking here, just smashing.

Almost got a good one.

Finally! We're all looking at the camera and smiling.

And here comes the choking.

Liana's in a better mood now.

Free Candy? Count Me In!

Why did no one tell me about Halloween sooner? It has to be the best invention ever.

No one told me what was going on at first, so as you can imagine, I was a little confused. In the week before Halloween there were peacock feathers and shiny pink and green tulle all over the house. It was like I was living in Liberace's closet.  What am I supposed to make of that? While we had babysat Aunt Louie's dog Casey the weekend before, I didn't see any other pets that might be shedding feathers. And what is up with tulle anyway?  My dad refers to people as tulles, but I don't get it?

Then on Monday afternoon we went to Liana's school and there weren't any kids there. Just superheroes, cowboys, fairies. They got all hopped up on nut-free, egg-free cookies and then started dancing all over the place. I like dancing, so I joined them, and I'm not going to turn down cookies, even if they are "allergy aware." I just didn't know what was going on.

Then we got home and Mom went crazy with the tulle. Liana and Gillian had many demands about their wardrobe and Mom tried to meet them all as the sun started to set without inducing a wardrobe malfunction. So, my sisters turned into big balls of shiny stuff and tulle. Then my aunts and uncle and Nana and Gaga and Casey came to our house. Casey had somehow turned into a ladybug, Aunt Rin was covered head to toe in silver, and Aunt Louie looked like a farmer that got attacked by corn stalks. I didn't know what crazy juice they were on, but I had my cars and I was happy. And that's when it happened.

I looked up and saw Mom coming toward me. She was holding what looked like the carcass of an overgrown, furry bumblebee. And then she tried to smother me with it. I screamed. Surely one of the many grownups around could help me. But they all tried to get the thing on me too. It was terrifying.

There was lots of pleading with me, but I just continued screaming, so they put a jacket on me and put me in the stroller. Why were we going for a walk at night? It didn't make any sense. We started walking around the neighborhood and there were packs of pirates and princesses and monsters all around. It was chilly, but neighbors were hanging out on their driveways with campfires. Then I noticed something. My sisters would walk up to people, hold out their bags, and the people would give them candy! A couple people saw me in the stroller and came up and gave me candy too. Just for sitting there. So, I realized something. Wearing weird garments=candy. I decided to let my Mom put the bee suit on me and then I was done with the stroller. All I had to do was wander up to a door and the person at the house would shove a huge bowl of candy at me! Best night ever.

It took me a while to come around, but when candy is involved, I am there. Liana, on the other hand, apparently can have enough candy. About halfway through our journey, she decided she had enough candy. She went up to the door with us, told her joke, and then politely said, "No, thank you" as people offered her candy. What is wrong with her? At least take it and give it to me!

At The Magic House Halloween Party

Gillian is a peacock. She had more feathers, but gave up on them.

Liana is a rose (she helped create the costume).

My Long Hiatus (aka Vomit-palooza)

I've decided it's time to come out of my Internet silence. It came to my attention that my great-grandma was worried about me since I mentioned Vomit-palooza and then disappeared for several weeks. Don't worry, everyone, we're all okay! It's just hard to get much computer time when everyone is throwing up everywhere and coughing and just being sick in general. Then when everyone finally did get better, Mom and Dad were too busy catching up on all their work that piled up in the meantime.

So, to catch you all up, our sick house started the last week of September (two days before Rosh Hashanah) when Liana started running a fever. We knew she was really sick when she fell asleep on the couch in the middle of the afternoon (this is the girl who takes at least an hour in bed to fall asleep every night). Her fever went off and on for several days and we eventually called in Dr. Aunt Rin who thought she had pneumonia. Our official doctor confirmed that, and I got to spend a fun day with Liana in the doctor's office and at the hospital.

Now, I'm just a toddler, and I like to put things in my mouth. I also like to lick things. And bite things. Mom is usually pretty good about keeping things out of my mouth, but dealing with a pitiful Liana at the hospital made her a little distracted, and I found some nice things to chew in the hospital waiting room. Which is what most likely brought us...

VOMIT-PALOOZA!

It started the Saturday night after Yom Kippur. Liana was still miserable from the pneumonia and even more miserable about having to take medicine, but we all decided to have a break the fast party and sleepover at Nana and Gaga's house with Aunt Rin, Aunt Louie and Uncle Sock. We didn't go to services in the evening, but were in charge of getting the food ready for everyone who was at services. Mom made four pizzas, plus salad and garlic bread. It was all consumed within about 15 minutes of everyone getting home. Later we were all enjoying bubble tea and relaxing. The grown-ups were settling in to watch Saturday Night Live while the girls were doing art projects and I was snuggling on the couch with Nana. Out of nowhere, I burped and then...a ridiculous amount of projectile vomit flew out of my mouth and covered Nana and Uncle Sock, as well as the leather couch we were sitting on. Nana started screaming. I started screaming. Then pretty much everyone started screaming.  Then the laughter began.

I hadn't been acting sick, so no one was quite sure what to make of the vomit. We got cleaned up, Uncle Sock changed into some of Aunt Rin's pajamas, and then we got back to Saturday Night Live. I was sitting on Mom's lap because no one else wanted me now. And for good reason. Just as everything was calming down...vomit all over Mom and Dad. Not so much screaming this time. Mom got changed into some of Aunt Rin's pajamas and then everyone got smart and gave me a barf bucket. I threw up about 6 more times that evening.

The next day was my sweet revenge. I did fine for most of the day. Then in the afternoon Dad was holding me and Gillian was standing next to him...and I threw up all over Gillian. It was awesome.

Over the next week the vomiting went through most of the family. Mom and Uncle Sock got it first, then Liana and Gillian, then Aunt Louie. Nana and Aunt Rin got a milder, non-throwing-up version, and Dad and Gaga were spared. Dad ended up with bronchitis instead. Also, during the week of vomit, Liana developed an allergy to her antibiotic and got hives all over herself. Which meant new antibiotics and new allergy meds--and therefore more drama and fighting about taking it.

So last week was the first time everyone was finally started to feel better. Everyone is still coughing quite a bit, but we're generally on the mend. Stay tuned for my Halloween adventures.