Greta Symposium

I've put together a few recent pictures of Greta. A snapshot of her many faces. This one I'd like to title...EXTREME CLOSE-UP!!!

Thanks to Great Aunt Ellen for the ADORABLE outfit. Greta wanted to thank you by baking a cake...but didn't get much further than finding the pretend kitchen.
This is Greta's "I swear I'm being good" face.

I like to call this one, "You busted me...but I'm too cute for you to do anything but laugh" face. This is Greta's "I'm not awake yet...please wait a few more minutes before we start the day" face.

The Plague Lingers

Plague Journal:
Day 1: Wednesday, February 2. The plague has finally struck the Norman family. I received a phone call from Kelsang that Greta is running a 102.3 fever. Joy. Automatic day home from school. Being the good Mommy that I pretend to be, I have willingly volunteered to stay home Thursday to care for the sick baby. Feeling very positive that my motherly love and attention will immediately heal anything that ails Greta.
Day 3: Friday, February 4. Hugs and kisses; lavish love and affection have not cured Greta. WTF! Mandatory 12:30pm exit from the Wells Fargo Tower to pick Greta from school after she logged a 101.8 fever. TGIF.
Day 4: Saturday, February 5. Greta is better...I am an obvious healer. But wait! I'm a little achie and have an overwhelming desire to hug my mom. Oh GOD, I'm running a fever. James has quarantined me to the bedroom in the hopes of isolating the virus. Feeling very positive that a day in bed and a phone call from my mother will immediately heal me.
Day 6: Monday, February 7. Yesterday's vow to be well no matter what has backfired. I am now feeling worse than ever and am forced to waste a PTO day on the plague. Lucy has developed a fever and is currently poking me in the forehead. I'm so miserable San Diego. PS: Norm just received a call from school. Greta is running a fever...again. Seriously? Another automatic day home from school. Lucy better heal FAST!
Day 7: Tuesday, February 8. Feeling like a Rock Star. Norm is running a fever and has a confirmed case of the plague. Super Joy. (Although it works great for me because he is now an able-bodied adult to stay home with Greta). Lucy does not have a fever (right now) so I am dropping her off at school. Fast-forward to 3:00pm - the inevitable has occurred. A call from school that Lucy has a fever. ANOTHER automatic day home from school. (Is it wrong if I pray for my husband to stay sick)???
To be continued.....

Public Discipline - Necessary Evil???

So I had my first real taste of "Public Discipline" yesterday afternoon courtesy of Lucy. I guess "public" is relative as it was only in her school classroom. But public enough for me, thank you. The whole thing felt like a painful episode of "Super Nanny"...the ultimate struggle for power; naughty vs. nice; 2 year old pitted against weary, embarrassed parent. Except it was my painful episode and my audience was professionally-trained school teachers.
I'm not sure what possessed Lucy to go on a "slapping-spree". But there was no way I could turn a blind-eye and race out of the room to the car where I have cleverly installed restraints. Nope, this behavior required immediate consequences. Sooooo, armored with my shaky resolve and 2-3 online parenting articles, I plopped that mass of flailing arms and legs in a chair in the corner and calmly told her she was in timeout for 1 minute (because Lucy can tell time??) for hitting, well, everyone in her path. And then I stood up. And she stayed put........for about 5 seconds.
Ding - Round One. I chase after her like an idiot; dragging her back to the "timeout chair" three or four times. Each time resulting in immediate escape. Greta begins to cry and I start to feel a little overheated (why did I wear my tundra parka?).
Ding - Round Two. Lucy gives-up on the "hit-and-run" tactic and tests the waters by throwing herself on the floor right in front of the chair and playing dead. As I "gently" pick her up and set her back in the chair, she immediately melts back to the floor. I'm now sweating...a lot. Greta is wailing and a teacher has taken pity on the child and picked her up. I conceded and peel off my floor-length parka to reveal red and white polka-dot flannel bottoms and an old t-shirt (no bra). Lord...can it get any worse?
Ding - Round Three. Yes, it can get worse! Two well-dressed parents waltz into the room and are now part of the peanut-gallery watching me struggle to keep Lucy in timeout for a whopping 60 seconds (may I remind you I am still in my f-ugly Pj's). I can start to feel victory slipping through my fingertips as peer-pressure/embarrassment start to chip away at my already weakened resolve. Lucy's current ploy is sliding herself and the chair away from the "timeout spot". Really? Really.
Ding - Round Four. Greta's in tears. Lucy is now in tears. I'm almost in tears. But wait! Can it be? I check my watch again and....the clouds break, waters part, and miracle-of-miracles, Lucy has stayed in the "Timeout chair" for 1 minute! VICTORY! I want to jump up and down and celebrate (wait...no bra) but decide that a quick exit is best. I grab my coat (way too hot to put it on), put Greta back in her car seat, and turn to help Lucy into her coat. "Lucy, let's get your coat on. It's cold outside." NO!
Ding....