Hasse

For the first time in many weeks, Rob and I had a day off together.  Luckily, it was a beautiful day, so we drove out to Lake Hasse, about 45 minutes away, for some canoeing and fun in the park.  

 

We fished for about an hour, but no luck.  We ended up having hotdogs for lunch.

Isabella loved being out by the water

After more than half an hour on the swings, I finally had to pull her off so we could go home (she didn't like that one bit)

On the way home: Isabella was very dirty but very happy.  Nothing suits her better than a day outdoors.

It was a perfect day.

Isabella the Terrible

It turns out the "terrible twos" phase is not just a myth.  Isabella is turning into the cutest little monster I've ever seen.  Besides being hyper and always getting into trouble, she also screeches like a banshee whenever we suggest she do something she doesn't feel like doing.  Or even when she does want to do it, sometimes.  

I came home from work today to discover my living room had been redecorated.  The walls, floor, and cabinets were all a beautiful shade of crayon blue.  Where Rob was when all this was happening I don't know, but at least he helped me clean it up.  I don't think Isabella quite got the point from my stern lecture; now she'll point to the walls and say "bad Bella, very bad" -- while giggling.

If she weren't so adorable, that girl would be in big trouble.

I didn't think of taking a picture of Isabella's "artwork" until after most of it had been cleaned up.  I could have saved it for my blackmail folder...

Cake-cakes

I like to make something special for breakfast on Sundays.  You know, a break from the usual oatmeal and cold cereal.  This is the one day of the week where all three of us are together, rather than spread all over the city in our various pursuits (work, mostly).  I've been eyeing up a recipe in my quinoa cookbook for months, but I've never had all the ingredients on hand.  Yesterday I decided I didn't care and would make Pumpkin Pancakes anyway.

Pumpkin Pancakes

1 1/2 cups quinoa flour                     1 3/4 cups buttermilk/sour milk

1/4 cup packed brown sugar             1 cup pureed pumpkin

2 tsp baking powder                         2 large eggs

1 tsp baking soda                            2 Tbsp vegetable oil

1 tsp allspice                                  1/2 cup toasted pecans

1 tsp cinnamon                               whipped cream/maple syrup optional

1/2 tsp ginger

1/2 tsp salt

Mix together all the ingredients on the left side.  In a separate bowl, mix together the wet ingredients.  Add the wet to the dry and mix just until blended.  Cook like you would regular pancakes.  Serve with pecans and maple syrup.

Sounds pretty good, right?  Don't tell Rob (he liked the pancakes) but I didn't have any pumpkin so I used sweet potato instead.  You would never know the difference.  I also used half the amount of quinoa flour and used regular flour for the rest.  And I mixed the pecans right in with the flour because I like pecans and it's easier to eat that way.

Despite all my interference, the pancakes were delicious!  The "pumpkin" added a sweet undertone, but wasn't overwhelming.  And I loved all the nuts.  Isabella calls them "cake-cakes" and ate more than Rob and I together (that girl can eat!).

Verdict: I'm definitely going to make these again!

This is the picture from the book.  Mine didn't look this deliciously gooey.  But they were still great.

  

I've got a fever! (and not for Beiber)

I know there are millions of you out there right now who are enjoying the sweetness of Spring.  The warm sun, the crisp, fresh air, blossoms poking their heads out of the ground, maybe even green grass?  It should be spring here.  But it isn't.  Last week we had a couple days in a row where we actually took the negative sign off of the temperature, and in those two days I got spring fever so hard that now I can barely sleep at night.  As I lay in bed, I can feel my blood tingling with anticipation of the coming months, when the snow will finally melt!  When I can plant my garden, and go for picnics, and take Isabella to the playground and the park... there are so many possibilities!  While I was out shovelling snow yesterday (yes, we're still getting more snow here) I put Isabella in her snowsuit and let her play outside with me.  After I had scraped enough snow away, a bit of our brown, dead lawn was revealed.  Isabella was fascinated with it; she kept looking and pointing and asking me "what's that Mom?"  How sad that my daughter doesn't know what grass is!  She is, however, very familiar with snow, and points it out at every opportunity.


To help me cope with my need for spring, I bought some daffodils.  There are thousands of gorgeous varieties of flowers, but none carry the promise that early spring flowers do.  A lilac, while beautiful, doesn't say that winter is finally over; a rose, while sweet, is a last lingering taste of summer.  Daffodils are so wonderful to me because they are they heralds of spring; they declare that things are only going to get better.  

(As an aside, I do really like winter; I couldn't live anywhere that doesn't have it.  But after six months of -40 and piles of snow, I'm ready for spring!)

32

This last weekend was Rob's birthday (I won't say which one- some people are so touchy about their age).  No crazy partying for us old folks, but we did manage to have a nice dinner together.  Isabella and I made lasagna and monochromatic greek salad (I didn't realise until it was too late that we were out of both cucumber and green pepper, so there was a lot of red) and carrot cake with nuts and cream cheese icing for dessert.  Yum!  Isabella is big into "helping".  While I cut up the vegetables for the salad, she mixed them together, yes, but a lot of them mysteriously disappeared.  But icing the cake together was fun, even if it turned out a little less professional than I had originally intended.  I wanted to get a picture of Isabella licking out the bowl afterward (she's so dang cute!), but as soon as I brought out the camera she turned into her I'm-crazy-because-there's-a-camera-in-view self.  Maybe next time.

Happy birthday Rob!
 

Sweet, Sweet, Valentine's Day

What I am about to say may make you think differently about me.  Maybe even less of me.  But I don't care, because this is just too exciting to keep to myself!

Rob and I aren't big into Valentine's Day.  I know a lot of people (or at least a lot of fictional move/tv people) go all out- have a fancy dinner with rose petals strewn all over the house while an airplane writes "I love you" in the sky, a string quartet plays romantic music, and an ice sculpture of cupid melts in the corner.  We're more the type to say "happy valentine's day" with an accompanying kiss.  Maybe something special for dinner, maybe not.  One year when I went to bed I found a box of chocolates under my pillow.

This year, though, Rob went a little crazy.  He decided that in the interest of improving our relationship, he would buy us ... a dishwasher!  I haven't had a dishwasher since I moved out of my parents house 81/2 years ago.  That's 3138 days of standing over a sink of hot water for at least half an hour, scrubbing, soaping, rinsing.  I didn't really mind doing them by hand, or at least I didn't mind before I had a crazy little girl to take up all of my time.  Ever since Isabella was born almost two years ago, I've tried to cram most of my tasks into the time when she's asleep (have you tried spending half an hour doing dishes while someone else is either tearing the house apart or howling for your attention?  It's very difficult).  

Our dishwasher was delivered Saturday morning (for free, of course).  We did a couple loads right away to get caught up; it was so nice to see bare counters after such minimal effort!  (By the way, our dishwasher is so awesome that it cleans off even weeks-old caked on nastiness; the secret is the steam cycle.)  When Isabella took her nap that afternoon my first thought was "Well, I guess I should do the dishes now."  I even went so far as to start walking toward the kitchen before I remembered there were no dishes for me to wash!

Maybe I'm a nerd, or someone who gets overly excited about kitchen appliances, but I have such a feeling of freedom!  Those precious minutes when Isabella is asleep do not have to be filled with the mundane task of washing dishes.  When I'm done with a dish, I just throw it in, and that night or maybe a day or two later (depending on how much cooking we've done) I press a button -- and go do the next thing on my list.  Or ignore the list and read a good book. 

Does anyone else do dishes by hand who can empathise with me here?  I wouldn't want to be labeled crazy...

Next, Please

I have many fond memories of growing up...climbing trees...eating oatmeal (or pretty much anything) slathered in thick fresh cream from our cow...playing trampoline ball with my siblings... eating bread fresh out of the oven.  My mother made pretty much everything from scratch, and I blame my current robust health on her excellent cooking.  She even made granola for us.

So when I saw a recipe for the "Ultimate Granola" in my quinoa cookbook, I knew I had to try it.  It's packed full of tasty yet healthy ingredients, like almonds, walnuts, quinoa, oats, pumpkin seeds, sunflower seeds, cranberries, and has a hint of cinnamon for a bit of extra flavour (like all that other stuff isn't enough).

Making it was super easy - just mix everything together and throw in on a baking sheet - and it looked so pretty and smelled so nice when it came out of the oven.

After it cooled, I tried to take it off the baking sheet.  Maybe I did something wrong, or maybe it's supposed to take half an hour and scratching up my favourite baking sheet to pry that stuff off.  I had my doubts about the recipe after that, but of course I still had to try it.

And it's good!  A bit of a jaw workout, perhaps, but delicious and healthy at the same time.  I keep a bucket of it in the living room (weird place, I know) so when I feel the munchies coming on I've got the solution right at hand.

Play Date

Because every 21-month-old should know their way around a Playstation.

True Love

 

Can you hear it calling?

Hidden Goodness

Yesterday I read a friend's facebook update describing how much her daughter loves spinach smoothies.  In my mind I pictured a dark green slurry that only an unsuspecting toddler would ever drink.  

But I decided to try it anyway. 

I filled the cup (does anyone else find the magic bullet cups super convenient?) half full of fresh spinach, then added yogurt, fresh strawberries, milk, and a few frozen blueberries.  And it was good!  I tumbled that smoothie on my tongue, searching for the spinach taste, but I couldn't find it.  All I could taste was yummy fruity goodness.  I let Isabella have a taste -- and she didn't give it back until it was almost gone.  

I'm converted!

Our breakfast: homemade raisin bread and a spinach smoothie.

KEEN - wah

Ever since watching the movie Julie & Julia, Becca and I have wanted to write regular posts about new recipes we've tried.  We had a hard time deciding on a cook book to use, or even if we should use a cookbook, so eventually our idea was more or less forgotten.  

Until Christmas.  Becca gave me a quinoa cookbook (and got one for herself, too) so we could try it out.  Maybe in health food circles this -- what do I call it?  It's not a grain, but acts like one -- stuff is well-known, but I had never heard of it before.  To tell the truth, while I was excited to try it out, I was also worried that my family (mostly Rob) would never eat it.  Maybe I would end up eating it all by myself.

So for my first try, I decided to go with a recipe where the quinoa is in the background, where the other flavours would mask its presence.  And I wouldn't tell Rob it was even in there until after he said he liked it.

Cheesy Spinach and Quinoa Stuffed Pasta

1/2 cup quinoa

2/3 cup water

1 box jumbo pasta shells

2 eggs

1 1/2 cups shredded mozza cheese (I'm sure I used a lot more than that, though)

1 cup ricotta cheese

3/4 cup grated parmesan cheese

1 package frozen spinach

1/4 tsp salt

pinch black pepper

3 cups tomato sauce (I also added ground beef to the sauce for my carnivore husband)

Cook quinoa in water, set aside to cool.

Cook pasta shells.

Beat eggs, add quinoa, mozzarella, ricotta, parmesan, spinach, salt, pepper.

Spread tomato sauce over the bottom of a casserole dish.  Fill the pasta shells and place on top of the sauce.

Cover and bake at 350 for 20 minutes, then uncover and bake for 10 minutes more.

So good that all of this was gone by morning!

I'm no chef, but you have to admit that looks tasty.

Since my first experiment was such a success, I've added quinoa to a lot of my regular cooking: spaghetti, Isabella's food, and I always put quinoa flour in my bread.

Does this make you want to try it?

Snow Day

I remember as a kid hearing about the mythical 'snow day'.  Apparently on this day the city sort of shuts down: kids don't have to go to school, buses don't run, many businesses are closed.  Growing up in the Okanagan, I knew that day would never come.  Living in a semi-desert does have its downsides.  Even here in the prairies, though, where we get more than enough snow and cold weather, it's such a norm that everyone just carries on regardless of the weather.  -50 degrees?  Whatev.  Two metres of snow?  Annoying, but no biggie. 

Today is the closest I'll ever come, I think, to getting a snow day.  It's been snowing heavily here for the last two days without pause.  While the accumulating snow could be dealt with with shovels and plows, the wind has to get a part of the action; it blows all the snow you just shovelled off your sidewalk right back over it again.  It piles the snow up in huge drifts. 

This is normal for Alberta.  Unfortunately.

I know you can't tell since the background it just all white, but the snow level  behind Isabella is above her shoulders.

Anyway, due to so much snow in so short a time, our church meetings have been cancelled today.  For the first time in my life, I actually can't go to church.  It's a very weird feeling.

Eventually we went back inside because I was too cold.  She was fine, of course, and was upset that I made us go in so early (1hour).  She just loves the outdoors, that girl!

An Explanation

Dear Readers,

I'm sorry I haven't posted in so long, but lately I've been lucky if I have five minutes to myself in the course of the day.  Getting ready for Christmas is a big part of that, of course, what with the shopping, and baking, and crafting, and planning, but mostly my silence is due to Isabella.  She has decided that sleeping is not necessary.  She sometimes takes a nap during the day, but she's at her day home then, so that part doesn't effect me.  No, somehow that girl is surviving on only a few hours of sleep at night.  She stays up crazy late (way past my bedtime, even) and then is ready and raring to go after only a couple hours in bed.  !!!  

Please don't be offended when I yawn while talking to you, I'm just glad when my brain is functioning well enough for me to say anything coherent at all.

One Month

This week marks Isabella's first complete month at Tammy's day home.  And to celebrate, she didn't cry when I dropped her off.  This is a big deal.  Rob is normally the one to drop her off, and she hasn't cried for him for weeks, but when I try to leave she always wails and clings to me and says "no Mommy" over and over.  Of course, she settles down again within minutes of me being out of sight, but at least I know she likes me best.  Well, knew, anyway.  Today she gave me a hug and said "bye bye Mommy" very calmly.

Rob is thrilled.  His reasoning is that she has to be there all day anyway, so she may as well like it.  I'm not a monster, I want the same thing.  But I also want her to love me so much that she wants to be with me all the time.  Or at least is sad to see me go.

I know I'm being ridiculous.  I'm way too attached to my daughter.  I love her so much it hurts when I'm apart from her (I keep a picture of her at work so I can look at her all day; that helps a little).  Is that unhealthy?  Don't normal mothers enjoy a little time away from the needs of their children?  Maybe that's just because they didn't get Isabella; she's so completely adorable I'm sure if she was someone else's daughter, that mother wouldn't be able to resist her either.

Thanksgiving

I think most people will agree with me when I say Thanksgiving is about lots and lots of good food, and family.  So my Thanksgiving this year was especially nice because it wasn't just me and Rob.  My oldest sister Jennie with her husband and four children came to visit.  It was an amazing weekend.  Saturday morning Isabella and I drove about an hour from the city to get to a farm where Jennie was staying (even using kitchen floor space, there still wouldn't be room enough in my house for all of them).  It was a glorious morning with the sun shining and only a slight nip in the air to remind us winter is coming, so we had a bonfire and roasted hotdogs, bannock, and marshmellows.  Isabella has always been an outdoors girl, so this place was like heaven for her.  She ran to and fro, throwing leaves into the air, played with the other kids, but I think her favourite part was the horses.  She rode (with someone older of course) every chance she could.  As soon as we took her off the horse, she would point at it and say "bee-DAH" (that means 'up'- don't ask me how she came up with that one) over and over again until someone relented and let her ride with them.

In the afternoon we went to a super-pool.  Jennie's kids are all water-children and immediately scattered, shrieking in delight, but Isabella protested at the first sight of the water.  For some reason she hates swimming but loves baths.  Of course, the fact that Isabella hadn't had a nap was a big factor.  Anyway, it took me about an hour and a half to get her to stop clinging to me like her life was in danger.  Jennie was a huge help, distracting her and showing how much fun the water can be.  The turning point came in the hot tub.  Once we were both thoroughly warm, I sat on the edge with both of our feet dangling in the water.  Isabella relaxed, her face scrunched up against my arm.  I think she may have even dozed off for a moment.  After that, while she still had to be near me, she had fun, splashing and laughing at the other kids.  (By the by, I know now why they invented swim diapers.  By the time we got out of the water, Isabella's diaper must have weighed as much as she does, and when I took off her totally cute swimming suit, it disintigrated into a mess of crystals which she then tried to eat.  Yuck!)

Rob and I spent Sunday afternoon in the kitchen, making all sorts of delicious foods in copious quantities.  Even with nine of us eating it, we only finished the left-overs two days ago.  That one of the best things about thanksgiving; it just keeps giving and giving.  So we ate and ate and talked and talked, went for a walk, then came back and ate and talked some more.  It was wonderful.

On Monday we all went to Galaxyland.  The kids all had a blast on the various rides.  Isabella went on the carousel and didn't want to get off (did I mention she likes riding horses?).  Nobody got sick, which is always a good thing, although I did get rather close on one very spinny ride.

Jennie and her family left Monday afternoon; it was hard to see them go.  I have a dream that one day all of my family will live in the same city, so we can see each other as often as we like.  We could go for walks together, have dinner, borrow each others' clothes, trade off on babysitting...oh it would be so wonderful!

In my family there is a Thanksgiving day tradition, and I'm sure we're not alone on this, to go around the table and everyone say what they're thankful for.  I may be the only one in the room right now, and I'm not even sitting at a table, but I'm going to go ahead anyway.  More than anything else, I am grateful for my family.  I am thankful that we all love each other and love to be together.  I am thankful for a wonderful husband and my deliciously adorable daughter.  I am thankful for this beautiful land we live in; the lakes, trees, flowers, the sky, everything combined in such wonderful ways.  I am thankful for a loving God, who cares about me and shows me the way to be happy.  I have so much to be thankful for, and almost nothing to complain about.  I am a truly blessed woman.

Isabella begging for a ride on the horse.

Jenevieve is a good cousin.

Jennie and Justus

Making friends with the dog.

Weee!  Throwing leaves is fun!

It took about six tries, but we finally took a picture where Rob wasn't scowling and Jarom wasn't a complete goofball.  Jenevieve was, of course, totally cooperative the whole time with her gorgeous smile.

Riding the carousel

Conclusion

Do you see that title?  I don't know if a single word has ever made me so happy before.  

As you know, Tammy originally said that she couldn't watch Isabella next week because she's doing backup care for someone else.  In my search for a new day home a week ago, I ran across a lady (strangly enough, her name is Tammy, also, so let's call her Tammy II) who said she could watch Isabella up until October.  After settling things with Tammy I, Tammy II and I agreed on her watching Isabella just for the one week while Tammy I was unavailable.

I had my concerns about Tammy II.  She's a nice lady, but she has this dog, technically still a puppy, although it's much bigger than Isabella.  Tammy II is totally in love with her puppy, cuddling it like a baby, which is fine, I'm not going to judge, but the puppy is still being trained.  So while I was there it (he? she?) jumped on Isabella with typical puppy enthusiasm.  That kind of freaked her out, and she started to cry.  The puppy then licked her face, which didn't help, and very kindly raked it's sharp paws across her face, giving her a scratch from forehead to chin.  Needless to say, I wasn't pleased.  Tammy II agreed to keep the dog outside unless Isabella was sleeping or otherwise out of harm's way.

I rationalised that this less-than-ideal situation was only for one week, and anyway it was the best of my options (Isabella hated the other places the way she hated Monika's).  So Friday morning before work I called Tammy II just to make sure everything was set for next week.  She wasn't home; I left a message.

Friday night around 7pm Rob called me at work: he had left Isabella's lion at Tammy I's, could I please pick it up after work?  Oh, and Tammy II called and said she thought I wasn't coming and so had made other plans.

Sound familiar?  Monika said almost word-for-word the same thing a few weeks ago.  I was quite clear with both Monika and Tammy II...how does this keep happening to me?

So there I am on a Friday night, suddenly without a day home for all of next week.  The agency is closed until Monday, so I can't even call them for a backup place.  But it all worked out.  This is the conclusion, remember, not part IV.  Rob had mentioned to Tammy I that we didn't have a backup, and later that evening she sent an email to me asking for my schedule for next week.  It will be a little bumpy, and Rob will probably have to miss a class or two, but Tammy has rearranged her schedule so she can care for Isabella next week.  I told you she was a gem.

Now I don't have to worry about Isabella hating her care-giver next week and getting totally messed up over it.  I don't have to worry about her while she's with Tammy, either, because their relationship is progressing nicely and Isabella adores Tammy.

Nope, no worries.

Except: what if Isabella loves Tammy more than me?

My Moment... Maybe (aka Day Home Saga part III)

I may have had my Brigham Young Moment.  

Two days ago I dropped Isabella off for a trial morning at a new day home: Tammy's.  I met Tammy last Friday, and while her day home plans are not the most stellar I've seen, her home has a nice comfortable atmosphere: fun and relaxed.  Isabella took to her younger daughter right away (Tammy also has a daughter in school and a baby boy) and followed her all over the house while Tammy and I talked.  So despite Isabella's most recent reactions to being left with a stranger (ie Monika) I didn't feel much anxiety about her spending a few hours with Tammy.

Tammy is such a sweet girl.  We talked a little bit about which methods would be best to win over Isabella, but she seemed to know right away anyway.  I took the advice of my oldest sister and stayed for a little while, to kind of show Isabella that being friends with Tammy is fun.  Tammy played it cool, mostly staying in the background in a friendly way, smiling and talking to Isabella but not trying to hold her or make her do anything.

When I left, Isabella, of course, cried, but it wasn't the "you're tearing my arms off" crying that I was prepared for.  More like "hey my mommy's leaving and I don't like that, but I'll get distracted and forget about her soon".  

And, as it turns out, she did exactly that.  Well, mostly anyway.  She cried once in a while,but that may be because she's cutting three molars at once rather than a reaction to who she was with.  She even ate a little, as long as Tammy's daughter (I can't remember her name right now) was the one who fed her.  Promising, eh?

You may be asking "If Tammy is so great, why aren't you sure this is your Moment?  Why is this part III instead of the conclusion?"  Well, part of me is not sure this saga will ever be over, but mostly it's this: Tammy isn't available next week.  So I'm afraid that Isabella will just be getting comfortable with Tammy, then we'll rip her away and put her with someone else.  I don't know who that someone else is yet, so Isabella may hate her just like she hated Monika.  Perhaps after a week of this torture she will have forgotten Tammy or will just be resentful and so won't get along with Tammy any more.

I know my fears are silly.  Maybe I'm one of those moms who worries too much, or maybe it's stress carried over from the Monika days.  Whichever, or neither, I'm just glad I have such a great family.  They've been praying for me, offering support and advice, and letting me know that they love me and are thinking of me (and Isabella too, of course).  Some people may say it's just words, but it's not, not really.  They actually care, and knowing that they care helps me to make it through tough times.  Plus, they always give really great advice.  Truly, I was born into the best family ever.  

Part II of the Day Home Saga

A little forwarning here: I am suffering from a severe lack of sleep (Isabella is sick), so parts of this post or maybe all of it may not make sense to the average reader.

Weeks and months ago, I imagined the worse thing about putting Isabella in a day home would be that she would like someone else better than me.  And maybe it still is, but that would be a very different kind of pain than what I'm going through now.  While she was still at Monika's, it was causing me all kinds of anguish knowing that she was with someone she hated, but at the same time I felt a little...gratified, maybe? secretly happy?.. that she loved me best and I had the power to make her happy again.

It obviously wasn't working out with Monika.  Last Monday Monika called me at work.  She was at her wits' end; she couldn't handle Isabella anymore.  I could hear Isabella crying in the background.  Luckily, I have a boss who empathises with my situation, and she let me leave work early.  When I got to Monika's, I found out that Isabella had been waiting by the door all day, hoping that it would open and her mom would be there to take her away from that horrible place (Isabella's words, not mine).  When she saw me she held her arms out wide and ran towards me saying "hi mommy" in a tone that said "I was in the pits of despair but now I am saved!"; she gave me a tight hug.  

Monika, in a very roundabout way that was hard to follow, let me know that she wasn't happy with the situation.  And who can blame her for that?  I wouldn't like to be saddled with a kid who cried all day either.  Plus, her husband works nights, and since he couldn't sleep through Isabella's crying during the day, Monika had a cranky husband, too.  We decided we would keep Isabella there for the rest of the week, and if the situation still hadn't improved, I would look for another day home.

That was Monday.  

Tuesday morning Rob called Monika to let her know what time he was going to drop off Isabella, and Monika said she wouldn't take her.  Just like that, in a matter of minutes, we were out of a day home.  I was working full time, Rob was in school full time, we have no family in the area.  I was already at work when this happened, so Rob had no choice but to stay home from school.  He stayed home with her all week while I frantically looked for a day home that had availability right away.

Now, while I'm incredibly stressed out, I don't feel as bad as I did before.  I know that Isabella is with someone she loves and is not being traumatised.  It also feels good to be able to do something.  My search has been fruitless so far, but at least I'm not sitting at work agonising over something I can do nothing about, like I was when she was at Monika's.  I'm out searching, meeting with people, asking for advice, following leads.  All I need now is to find the right place.

I need a Brigham Young moment, where I can say with confidence, "This is the place."

You Asked For It...

...so here it is:  Isabella's first day at her day home.

This was last Wednesday.  To facilitate dropping off and picking up Isabella, Rob and I bought a beater a couple weeks ago.  That way if I have to work late or too early or whatever, Isabella can still be picked up.  We only have one car seat, though, so at first whoever dropped her off would then drop off the car seat at the house, so whoever was picking her up could use it (we have a better system now).

So on the Wednesday in question, Rob dropped Isabella off at Monika's house before going to school since I had to work early.  I was a wreck at work.  Isabella is very... I don't know the right word.  She loves her parents, and has a hard time getting used to anyone else.  The few times we've left her with 'strangers' (to her), though, she's cried for a few minutes, then gotten down to the business of playing and/or making a mess.  So while I was nervous about how her first day would go, I was mostly confident that it would work out.

It didn't.

I had to come home from work before picking up Isabella so I could grab the car seat.  Rob was home already, and told me that she was playing happily when he snuck out.  Good, I thought.  However, when I pulled up in front of Monika's house, even from across the street I could hear Isabella crying.  When she saw me, she ran across the room with her arms held out so I could hold her.  It took a long time for her to calm down enough to stop sobbing.  Her face was red and blotchy, her breath came in ragged gasps.  While I cradled my little girl, glad to have her with me again, Monika told me about her day.  It turns out that as soon as Rob left and Isabella discovered that neither of her parents were there with her, she freaked out.  She neither slept nor ate the whole day.  Just cried.  And cried.  And cried.  She tried to push Monika away whenever she came near enough.  I find Monika to be a very nice lady, and good with children, but for some unfathomable reason Isabella has taken an intense dislike to her.

Isabella clung to me for the rest of the evening (indeed, she hasn't stopped clinging yet, I nearly always need to be holding her now).  And while she clung, she ate.  And ate.  And ate.  It turns out that not eating for nine hours leaves her ravenously hungry.  She has a hard time sleeping now, too.

The next two days were more of the same.  I had had hopes that she would get used to it, maybe even enjoy playing with the other kids.  Now?  I don't know.  Friday morning as we walked up the steps to Monika's house, Isabella pulled back and clung to my leg.  I picked her up and continued on, and when the door opened, the waterworks started.  She held tight to me, her head buried in my shoulder, saying "no no no" over and over again.  When I put her down, ruthlessly pulling her little arms away from my neck, she howled like I had ripped her heart out.  I know I had mine.  I drove around the corner so she couldn't see me, but then had to pull over so I wouldn't be a hazard to the other cars on the road.  It was awful.  I've decided Rob will have to drop her off from now on; I can't go through that again.

So now I'm in a difficult place.  Ideally, Isabella will get over her aversion to Monika and I can continue working full time without the guilt of emotionally traumatising my child.  It was suggested to continue with Monika for another two weeks, but I don't think I could make it more than one.  So if the situation does not significantly improve in the next week, we'll look at other day homes.  Someone, maybe, will be similar enough to me that Isabella will be a little more comfortable there.  If not, I may have to only work in the evenings when Rob is at home, or not work at all. 

Whatever happens, I trust that we will find a way to make it work.  God will provide a way for us to eat and our child to be happy, if we are willing.

The Misunderstanding

Six days from now is Isabella's first day at a day home.  As I said before, I'm trying not to think about it.  However, when I got home from work yesterday Rob said "Do you want the good news or the bad news first?"  Like an idiot, I opted for the bad news.  It turns out that Monika, our day home lady, had called and said "she hadn't heard from us" and had therefore filled Isabella's spot at her home.  That was it.  I was confused, outraged, and slightly panicked.  I have been in regular contact with Monika's dayhome agent, have signed the contract even, so how in the world could Monika think I wasn't coming?  So there we were, six days from needing a day home, five of which we would be out of province.  That left us a single day to find a new dayhome and get the papers signed.  Maybe it's possible, maybe it's not, I don't know.  But it would have been incredibly stressful.

My day at work had been insanely busy.  So to hear this on arriving home... I needed to yell at somebody.  I called the dayhome agency, struggling to keep my voice even as I asked what the heck was happening.  Marlene, with whom I had signed the papers, was just as confused as I was.  Apparently she had talked to Monika only the day before and everything was all set to go.

To shorten a story that is starting to get a little long-winded, Marlene called Monika to find out what was going on.  It turns out it was all a misunderstanding.  Monika had gotten a call from someone needing temporary care, and she thought she had to take this other child in place of Isabella.

So I still have a day home.  No need to rush frantically around today trying to get something else arranged. But while everything may be straightened out now, I'm still left feeling rather put out.  Maybe I was secretly hoping for the day home to fall through so I'd have no choice but to stay home.  Or maybe I've just been so stressed out lately (which I have) that I need the release of yelling at someone.

I am really looking forward to this long weekend away.  A few days with family sounds perfect.