Kyla Gets a BIKE!

We celebrated Kyla’s 3rd birthday on our annual family camping trip. The weekend was rainy, but it was the only downer in an otherwise wonderful weekend.

Her big gift was her new bicycle—without pedals! The new bike-learning theory going around is that if kids learn balance and steering while pushing off with their feet, by the time you add the pedals, they will be ready to really bike. This supposedly eliminates the stage between training wheels and learning to balance without training wheels. Kyla’s legs need to grow about one more inch before she can comfortable push herself around, but she likes the idea of her “little pink bike”.

Piper the Jelly-Eater

Grandma Kruger made strawberry-rhubarb jam for “us”. Piper rarely shares. Today, I put some on her pancakes and then left the container on the table. Piper pulled it closer to her and abandoned the pancake middleman.

Waving Goodbye to Daddy at the Window

And then forgetting about Daddy and just playing.

Look! We grow….

blackberries in our yard! Right by the playset. Yummmmy.

My Lil’ Helpers

Okay, so they didn’t help a bit, but they’re kinda cute wearing their aprons.  Kyla actually has one that fits her, but I had to fit mine around Piper.

RIP Seven

I have felt—and known myself to be—an adult for a long time.  Parenthood was the final nail in that coffin, but I recently had to do something that I haven’t had the responsibility of before—choosing whether or not to end a life.  This isn’t an abortion essay or a right-to-die doctrine, just the so-simple decision of having to put a hurt pet to sleep.

Last Thursday night, Dwayne and I heard a dreadful racket in our backyard.  The raccoons were fighting again, so Dwayne went out and banged together a stick and can to frighten them off.  Those who know anything about raccoons know that the creatures are not easily intimidated.  Finally, they seemed to scatter.

A half an hour later, there was an awful cry in the garage.  As impossible as I knew it had to be, it sounded like a hurt child.  We investigated and it was Seven, dripping blood, with large chunks out of her neck and jaw, trying to crawl home.  It was heart-breaking.

So at 11:30pm, we searched for the cat carrier and tracked down an emergency veterinarian hospital open all night. Dwayne brought her in and returned home around 2 in the morning, sans cat but with a huge bill.  As he filled out the paperwork, they took Seven and started all the life saving measures they could. [I can admire the hearts that wanted to save her at all costs, but I cynically realize also it wasn’t their costs.]

The next day, I talked to the vet caring for her.  The prognosis was worse than it had been the night before.  To give a monetary idea, when she was brought in, they estimated a high amount of $2500 (!!) . By the next afternoon, they thought we could easily go as high as $5K and there was no promise of full recovery.  There was a good possibility of brain damage or something equally as permanent.  And the cat was in more pain that the medication could fully mask.

Looking at the bare facts like that, ending Seven’s life is a pretty easy decision to make.  But even if I wasn’t pregnant—and dripping care-taking hormones—Seven crawling home to us to help her would have been hard to forget.  And I admire her (stupid) courage.  The vet said that Seven probably could have easily gotten away but instead didn’t back down from the fight. 

Anyway, I called Dwayne and recommended we give them permission to put her down (horrid euphemism).  He agreed and I had to call back the clinic and give that permission.  It was harder than I thought, especially considering all the times I begged Dwayne to come home from work and “kill one of the cats—it doesn’t matter which one.”

Well, we have lost 3 cats at this house since we moved here 6 years ago.  The first two just never came home. It was easier that way.

Kyla’s version of events is this.  A raccoon fell out of tree and landed on Seven.  It hit and bit Seven and hurt her very, very bad.  Daddy took care of her.  Seven’s at the real animal clinic with an animal doctor.  She might not come home. The raccoon said it was sorry.

Baby Omega

The very day I wrote our last blog entry (June 5th), I “passed” a test. In fact, I got a “+”! Yep, Baby #3, aptly nicknamed Baby Omega, is due January 31, 2010. To stick with the holiday theme of our first two, I may have to aim for President’s Day or MLK’s birthday.

I’m getting more excited as the the first trimester nausea, zits, tiredness, and total irritability are fading into second trimester, well, if not nirvana, then into reasonable health.

We had an early screening supposedly to check for probabilities of some basic disorders, but really, to assure myself we are not having twins. We aren’t. As it is, I, er...we, will have 3 under 3 1/2. Four little ones would have Dwayne and I scrambling to move my parents in next door.

Since we first told her, Kyla has been sure that a baby brother is growing inside Mama. She will also tell you that growing babies makes Mama sick and just where to find the ginger candies that help Mama’s tummy.

The next entries are total fabrications of date, at least as far as when they are posted. (As my sister-in-law Julie would point out, most of my entries are that way.) But I have a few cute pictures of the girls during this time when I cared enough to get off the couch to find the camera. Enjoy!

This is NOT me! As I hinted earlier, I have been slightly green, very zitty, and usually hunched over in perpetual misery. This picture is far cuter of a pregnant woman.

Oh, the funny things you do: PIPER

Cute in a fireman’s hat!

 

Piper got herself and two stuffed animals into her rocking chair, pulled a blanket around them all, and grabbed her favorite book. It’s about chickens. 

 

She found the laundry basket and put as much of Mama’s and Daddy’s underwear over her head as she could manage.  You’re styling, Piper!

 

The girl loves her vanilla yogurt.

Oh, the funny things you do: KYLA

Summer, 2009    

(Yeah, that is a blue bottom.  Like a baboon.)

Day-cation

It was supposed to be a weekend camping trip with the Krugs, Humes, and Bob, but I wimped out after week 6 of nausea. We did make it up for the Saturday, though, and loved the cooler weather there. We all drove to a nearby lake and Kyla rediscovered her fearlessness in water. We hope that she will regain a little of that fear soon, but she and Dwayne had a terrific time playing in the water. Piper stayed closer the shore where she could snatch shoes and chase doggies.

The Great Adventure began with a ferry ride, Piper’s first and Kyla’s first one in her memory. They both loved it!

Once we got to South Whidbey State Park, we took the trail down to the beach. To our surprise, there was actually sand! Of course, between the sand and the murky, rough water were lots of rocks and sharp things to step on, but the girls (including Mabel) liked playing anyway.