Our Wee(wee) Bairn...

As has become our yearly tradition, we all (Sarah, Frannie, Sarah's parents and I) all piled into the car and headed to Enumclaw for the Northwest Scottish Highland Games and Clan Gathering. Last year, the last hour or so of the drive was spent trying to get enough cell coverage to watch "Hot Dog" over and over. Figuring we had nowhere to go but up, we set off. Luckily, Frannie did pretty well for most of the drive, enjoying her hot chocolate for breakfast and making small talk with Boppa and Ellen. The last 10-15 minutes were spent watching some Daniel Tiger on the PBS kids app, but we all agreed this year's drive was a vast improvement.

Just after arriving at the fairgrounds, Frannie started shrieking that her tummy hurt. Figuring she was hungry from not eating breakfast, we fed her some fruit and nut bar and gave her a little water, then set off to look at the clan booths. She kept on crying, even when we picked her up, and nothing seemed to make her feel better. Now, whenever I (or Frannie) doesn't feel good, my brain starts running through the entire list of possible maladies that might match with the presenting symptoms. So, when Frannie was complaining of stomach pain, my brain came up with everything from food poisoning (norovirus? E. coli?) to appendicitis (does the pain come on fast like this when it's inflamed, or only when it has already ruptured?). While the rest of the family shopped, I walked Frannie around outside, hoping she would somehow feel instantly better. When one of my hands felt something warm and wet, I thought "Well, maybe she has gas, and that will make it easier for her to pass it." Then, Frannie lifted her head from sobbing on my shoulder and said "Where Boppa? Where that Boppa at?" Just like that, she was fine. 

Once I found Sarah, she pointed out that we have been working on potty training by having Frannie sit on the potty every morning until she pees, but broke that routine this morning by rushing her out the door to get on the road. Our best guess is that Frannie was trying to hold it until she sat on a potty, but then when her bladder was full, she didn't know that needing to pee was causing the pain! Poor kiddo. So, now I know: if you don't get your toddler to pee in the potty, she might hold it until it hurts!

Like any respectable two-mom family, we attended our local Pride parade this weekend. Unfortunately, as soon as the Dykes on Bikes rolled up, Frannie wanted nothing to do with her stroller, and insisted on being held throughout the entire parade. So, no pictures of the parade, since my hands were full of toddler. Turns out, though, that you get a ton of stuff thrown at you (good stuff) when you have a cute kid with you - stickers, pinwheels from the local children's hospital, coffee from Starbucks, even a free t-shirt. I don't know if we'll be marching or watching next year, but it was fun to have the change of perspective, not to mention the shade.

Seattle has been having a bit of a heat wave (other parts of the country would call it "Spring"), so we've been doing our chores early in the day, mowing the lawn and hanging out all of the laundry, and playing in the sprinkler during the afternoon. Frannie wanted to help with the mowing, so she put on her boots and headphones, but got outside just in time to hang out the laundry.

What, you don't hang out the laundry in fireman boots and noise-reducing earphones?

Bedtime slowly gets easier, perhaps because we have grown more immune to the 90 minutes (I wish I were exaggerating) of whimpers and cries we get each night. Her one consistent request, to which we each give in for a few minutes, is to snuggle (which she pronounces "nuggle") with her, that is, sing to her, rub her back (under the shirt, if you please!), and generally devote all attention to her for a few minutes. When she's feeling sleepy, it's a lovely way to spend part of your evening. When she feels like flailing her appendages and whacking you in the face, it's more appealing to clean up the dog poop in the backyard.

Day care finishes for the season in three days. In other words, three more days until we have to be as entertaining as 9 children, 4 adults, and a basement full of toys. I see parks and outings in our future.

We were in the car, stuck in traffic, and Frannie asked why we weren't moving. I told her we were waiting at a stop light, and Frannie informed me it was a "go-go light." I said I liked that name for it, and she said it was because she likes "go-go-going!"

This weekend, we went on a bike ride around Seward Park with a friend, who has two 4 year old twin boys and a girl who just turned 3. We brought Frannie's tricycle, which mercifully has a handle, as well as the umbrella stroller, with the plan being that Frannie and the girl would share the bike around the lake while the bigger boys rode their balance bikes the whole way. Naturally, Sunday was the day the heavens opened up and the six of us made up approximately 25% of the people we encountered on the 2.5 mile loop. The kids braved the rain and cold pretty well for the first 2 miles, but around that marker, one of the boys lost it. Luckily, it didn't occur to him to lay the bike down and refuse to continue, so he just screamed his way around the path. We kept the spirits of the other kids up by promising them treats (cookies! brownies!) when we got to the shelter (dry! warm! not rainy!) By the time we got to the shelter, the kids had clearly built it up in their minds as not so much a roof and tables, but rather a sumptuous palace, probably with attendants Carson hired. The reality came crashing down on them, and all 4 lost it. The adults ate the cookies and brownies with authentic but overly dramatic enthusiasm, and then we packed the kids up and went home. Next time we want a bike ride before nap, I think we'll make sure the weather plans to cooperate. That, or we find a velodrome for toddlers in the Seattle area.

We went to a birthday party for a friend of Frannie's who is turning 3 this week. For a gift, Sarah made the girl a "Princess" dress by embellishing a store-bought dress with ribbon, sparkly tulle, and shiny buttons. The big news on our end was that Frannie was excited to give the gift to her friend, not just to own it herself, albeit temporarily. This may have been because Sarah made a coordinating dress for Frannie to wear, but I like to think our little girl is learning to share. Not that I expect this to translate to any other areas.

Frannie has been going through a spitting phase recently. Mostly, she doesn't spit for entertainment, but to express her displeasure at something or someone, or in response to being disciplined or told something is not an option. Since she's a Two-Year-Old, spitting is becoming quite common in our household. With two special-ed teachers in the house, you'd think we'd have a handle on changing undesirable behaviors, but it turns out our daughter is as stubborn as ever. She has also started responding to our frustration with some of her less-awesome behaviors by yelling "I not bad!" which confuses the heck out of me. I figure either she is hearing from somewhere else about her or someone else being bad (could be the "bad dog" we use when Olive scratches at the kitchen wall for treats), or she is confusing "bad" and "mad," since lately I've been trying to teach her to say "I'm MAD!" as a replacement behavior for spitting. No matter which it is, it's heartbreaking to hear her insist that she is not bad, and has both of us responding with love, adoration, and assurances of her self-worth. Come to think of it, we may be strongly reinforcing that particular statement.