Did you miss us?
As soon as I officially declared my hiatus, Harper seemed to be enticing me to blog by being downright hilarious. Not once in the last week would I have thought, "What am I going to write about?" Which figures.
For a two-year-old Harper self-entertains fairly well. And she never stops talking, which is good for me. I can occasionally go to work on the computer and, as long as I hear her talking (to her doll, animals, our dog, etc.), I know she's okay. If it gets quiet, or I hear the refrigerator open, I know I need to go see what's happening. We live in a ranch, so there's only so far she can go.
Last Thursday, as I was working away on my project, I hear, "Mommy, yook at me! I a baby!" And I glance into the living room to see this:
That would be the doll stroller she is sitting in. And yes, she also took her clothes off. It's thirty degrees outside, only sixty-eight or so in the house, and Harper wants to run around all day in her diaper. I wish I had a digital video camera, because not only was Harper sitting in her stroller, she was cruising around in it, Flintstone-style. I did make her get out though, I'm pretty sure it's not meant to convey actual toddlers.
Later that same day she walked into the bathroom, where I was occupied, and said, "Hey toots!"
When he was home over the weekend, Matt was in charge of Harper so I could get things finished up. He decided he should teach her to play poker:
I pulled up solitaire on my computer the other day and Harper asked where the chips were. She calls it, "pokers." I told her I didn't know how to play, it's a game to play with Daddy. That's seemed to suit her just fine. Who knows? Maybe she'll fund our retirement on the Poker World Tour someday.
Apparently Harper internalizes my end-of-the-quarter stress and it weakens her immune system because, for the third time, as soon as I start getting into serious work mode, she gets sick. She has had a terrible cold for about five days now; coughing, sneezing, low fever, not wanting to eat, and waking up every three seconds all night long. Saturday night we had such a hard time getting her to stay asleep that Matt took her into the living room and laid on the couch with her. She wandered into the family room (where I was on the computer) around 1:30 a.m. and pouted, "Daddy didn't make woom for me." Matt had rolled over and sort of edged her off the couch. She was a pathetic mess.
We went to the doctor yesterday and her ears are clear, lungs are clear, and she doesn't have strep. All good news, except that there's not a darn thing to do but ride it out. And this morning I woke up with all her lovely symptoms. Sigh. Too bad moms can't call in for sick days.
Harper was totally cool with getting a "ceck-up" at the doctor, until they did the swab for the strep test. I guess there's no better way to do it with a toddler, but the doctor sort of just jabbed the swabs down her throat, much to Harper's horror, and a little to mine. Fortunately she seems to have forgotten it already. No hard feelings I guess.
The best part about going to the doctor is the sticker at the end. When I wasn't looking, Harper relocated her sticker. I finally noticed it wasn't on her shirt anymore and asked where she put it. Her response? "It is on the window for yater." Behold:
Fortunately it came off without too much effort.
So there's our little (or long) update. The comments have been very quiet, what have you been up to in the last week?