This morning when I asked Miriam what she wanted to wear she said, "Pink, pink, pink!" So I pulled a pink dress out of the closet (not that there's much else in there, colour-wise) and helped her into it. She flounced around, smoothed down her dress, and said, "Super pretty!"
She is feeling so much better. She ate and ate and ate today and I was so glad because she's hardly eaten a thing all week! The real way I could tell she's feeling better, though, is that she's started climbing things again. I caught her on the table emptying the salt and pepper shakers again (she disappeared while I was helping Rachel button her pyjamas).
Rachel showered me with gifts this week—she made a present at school (a thumbprint flower) earlier this week and today she made a gift at Sunbeams (a handprint with a poem) at church and after church she made a "surprise" with Grandma (a heart-shaped box that she painted) while Miriam and I took a nap.
Tonight while I was singing lullabies and cuddling my girls (and keeping the little one from kicking the big one and the big one from shoving the little one) Rachel nuzzled her head into my shoulder and whispered, "I love you, Mom!"
Sometimes I don't know what prompts her, but I love it when she tells me that for no reason. It was my favourite gift of all.
She's continued her good behavior, for the most part. I love when we're in mostly-good/occasionally-bad cycles instead of having it be the other way around. Hopefully this will keep up for the next few days (and beyond, but certainly for the next few days).
Andrew will be home in just four sleeps. I'm so excited! He sent me a lengthier correspondence than I've seen in quite some time and reading it made me cry. I think the hardest part of having him be gone is that the internet is much more fickle in Ghana than we were expecting it to be. I get little snippets here or there on Facebook or IM and we've had a couple of decent phone calls and one successful Skyping session but mostly it's just a big, gaping void. If I didn't have his itinerary in front of me I'd have no idea where he was at any given moment.
Because of the itinerary I know that he'll be heading back to Accra tomorrow so hopefully he'll be able to find a good internet connection again. We haven't heard much from him since last Tuesday; I'm ready to hear some more.
I was talking with my friends Wendy and Michelle after picking Rachel up from school one day and Wendy asked how Andrew was doing in Ghana.
"Oh, he's good!" I said, but I didn't tell her much more because, as I said, I haven't heard much.
"Ummm...actually," Rachel interjected, "He stepped on a nail!"
"That's true, he did," I said. And then I had to recount the story.
While we were walking home Rachel said, "Mommy, why did you say Daddy was good when he's not good. Stepping on nails is not good!"
Luckily he called us that afternoon—perhaps that was last Tuesday—and was able to tell her that, although it was true that he had stepped on a nail, he was feeling much better.
Miriam misses her daddy tremendously. We got to call Uncle Jacob (who is on a mission in Peru (we get to talk with our missionaries on Christmas and Mother's Day, and that's all)) this afternoon and when she heard his garbled voice coming through the speaker phone she said, "Daddy?"
Later when we were at my mom's house, Auntie Kelli let Miriam use her phone to call Uncle David (who was just in the other room). He pretended to be Andrew and he and Miriam had a glorious make-believe conversation.
"'Ello? 'Ello? 'Ello?"
"Hello, Miriam!"
"Daddy? Daddy! Jabber, jabber, blabber, dlay!"
"Oh, really? Did you have a good day?"
"Ashee! Boshee! Me, me, me! Ticko-dee!"
She talked and twirled and kissed the phone, so excited to be talking to "Daddy."
We're all getting a little trunky over here. When Andrew gets home we're going to have to celebrate Mother's Day all over again—not for me, but for our wonderful mothers who have done so much helping while he's been away.
My mom, who helped take Rachel to the park while Miriam was sick and who watched Miriam today while I taught primary (because she couldn't go to nursery because she's still too sick) and who picked Rachel up one afternoon just to get her out of the house and who fed us dinner occasionally and religiously checked up on my sanity.
Andrew's mom, who helped chauffeur me and the girls around and who rocked my sick baby for countless hours and who sat up with my screaming baby while I went running and who got up with Rachel so I could sleep in with my sick baby and who took Rachel grocery shopping just to get her out of the house and who also religiously monitored my sanity.
I don't know how I would have survived these long weeks without them!
And yet I did absolutely nothing for them for Mother's Day.
My excuse is that this is a time of survival and not extravagance. When Andrew comes home we'll find a way to thank them appropriately, as if there is ever any way to appropriately thank a mother, any mother, for all that she does for her children.
Anyway, I'm going to stop rambling and go to bed now. I still have a couple of long days ahead of fulfilling my dual-parental role singlehandedly.
She is feeling so much better. She ate and ate and ate today and I was so glad because she's hardly eaten a thing all week! The real way I could tell she's feeling better, though, is that she's started climbing things again. I caught her on the table emptying the salt and pepper shakers again (she disappeared while I was helping Rachel button her pyjamas).
Rachel showered me with gifts this week—she made a present at school (a thumbprint flower) earlier this week and today she made a gift at Sunbeams (a handprint with a poem) at church and after church she made a "surprise" with Grandma (a heart-shaped box that she painted) while Miriam and I took a nap.
Tonight while I was singing lullabies and cuddling my girls (and keeping the little one from kicking the big one and the big one from shoving the little one) Rachel nuzzled her head into my shoulder and whispered, "I love you, Mom!"
Sometimes I don't know what prompts her, but I love it when she tells me that for no reason. It was my favourite gift of all.
She's continued her good behavior, for the most part. I love when we're in mostly-good/occasionally-bad cycles instead of having it be the other way around. Hopefully this will keep up for the next few days (and beyond, but certainly for the next few days).
Andrew will be home in just four sleeps. I'm so excited! He sent me a lengthier correspondence than I've seen in quite some time and reading it made me cry. I think the hardest part of having him be gone is that the internet is much more fickle in Ghana than we were expecting it to be. I get little snippets here or there on Facebook or IM and we've had a couple of decent phone calls and one successful Skyping session but mostly it's just a big, gaping void. If I didn't have his itinerary in front of me I'd have no idea where he was at any given moment.
Because of the itinerary I know that he'll be heading back to Accra tomorrow so hopefully he'll be able to find a good internet connection again. We haven't heard much from him since last Tuesday; I'm ready to hear some more.
I was talking with my friends Wendy and Michelle after picking Rachel up from school one day and Wendy asked how Andrew was doing in Ghana.
"Oh, he's good!" I said, but I didn't tell her much more because, as I said, I haven't heard much.
"Ummm...actually," Rachel interjected, "He stepped on a nail!"
"That's true, he did," I said. And then I had to recount the story.
While we were walking home Rachel said, "Mommy, why did you say Daddy was good when he's not good. Stepping on nails is not good!"
Luckily he called us that afternoon—perhaps that was last Tuesday—and was able to tell her that, although it was true that he had stepped on a nail, he was feeling much better.
Miriam misses her daddy tremendously. We got to call Uncle Jacob (who is on a mission in Peru (we get to talk with our missionaries on Christmas and Mother's Day, and that's all)) this afternoon and when she heard his garbled voice coming through the speaker phone she said, "Daddy?"
Later when we were at my mom's house, Auntie Kelli let Miriam use her phone to call Uncle David (who was just in the other room). He pretended to be Andrew and he and Miriam had a glorious make-believe conversation.
"'Ello? 'Ello? 'Ello?"
"Hello, Miriam!"
"Daddy? Daddy! Jabber, jabber, blabber, dlay!"
"Oh, really? Did you have a good day?"
"Ashee! Boshee! Me, me, me! Ticko-dee!"
She talked and twirled and kissed the phone, so excited to be talking to "Daddy."
We're all getting a little trunky over here. When Andrew gets home we're going to have to celebrate Mother's Day all over again—not for me, but for our wonderful mothers who have done so much helping while he's been away.
My mom, who helped take Rachel to the park while Miriam was sick and who watched Miriam today while I taught primary (because she couldn't go to nursery because she's still too sick) and who picked Rachel up one afternoon just to get her out of the house and who fed us dinner occasionally and religiously checked up on my sanity.
Andrew's mom, who helped chauffeur me and the girls around and who rocked my sick baby for countless hours and who sat up with my screaming baby while I went running and who got up with Rachel so I could sleep in with my sick baby and who took Rachel grocery shopping just to get her out of the house and who also religiously monitored my sanity.
I don't know how I would have survived these long weeks without them!
And yet I did absolutely nothing for them for Mother's Day.
My excuse is that this is a time of survival and not extravagance. When Andrew comes home we'll find a way to thank them appropriately, as if there is ever any way to appropriately thank a mother, any mother, for all that she does for her children.
Anyway, I'm going to stop rambling and go to bed now. I still have a couple of long days ahead of fulfilling my dual-parental role singlehandedly.
I also love when my kids come to me and tell me they love me with no apparent reason other than just knowing they'll get a giant smile and hug in return. I hope Andrew gets home safely and that he steps on no more nails.
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