She continued to complain about it hurting off and on. And since, every time, she wanted the ace bandage over the advil, I thought it wasn’t too bad. It seemed that the ace bandage was the 8 year old version of a band aid. And it seemed suspicious that her arm seemed only to hurt at bedtime, or when I asked her to clean her room.

I looked away for a little while, and when I looked up, she and the coach were talking. And Katie was crying. She nodded, and the coach pointed to a place to the side where she should sit out. I thought she was in trouble.

Later, they went to work on the bars. Katie did an awesome job, and was the only girl in the class who could start with extended arms and do both a forward and a backward flip around the bar. A couple more were able to do one of the flips by the end, but Katie did it every time. (atta girl!)

But every time she got to the beginning of the line, she saw me, and she cried. At one point, another coach came over to talk to her and she cried. Since I couldn’t hear anything, I could just see the coaches pointing and looking stern while talking to her, I didn’t know what was going on.

It never occurred to me that her arm hurt. She was voluntarily putting all her weight on it repeatedly, and then doing tricks. Who would do that if you knew it was going to cause serious pain? Apparently, my daughter would. She cried all the way home and said that the Advil didn’t really help. She asked if I would please take her to the doctor.

The next day, moments after I told Stagg I was going to take her in to have it looked at the next day, she called from school. Now writing hurt. So off to the doc we went.

The first doctor told me that his suspicion level for a break was low after talking to her. I agreed, but really wanted to get some answer for why it was still hurting enough to move her to tears. The xray surprised him enough to send us to an orthopedist, and it turns out that she has a small vertical fracture of one of her arm bones.

No cast necessary, just rest. And an ace bandage for effect.

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Bringing her suitcase to the trailers with Stagg

Getting her horseback riding evaluation

Katie, however, had issues with the drop off. She suddenly decided that she REALLY wanted to stay at camp. She had answers for everything: no clothes? no problem. She’d just wear what she had on for a week. She didn’t have to change her underwear or brush her teeth. No bathing suit? The pool would just be her shower and washing machine. And she would just go sleep with Maggie since she didn’t have a sleeping bag.

I, of course, was the big party-pooper, pointing out that she had never had a single sleep over when Maggie wasn’t with her, and that some of the sleep overs she had tried ended with me picking her up early. No camping for Katie until next year.

Katie's reaction to my no camping edict

Check in went smoothly, and the girls were thrilled to find their assigned bunks in their cabin. They made their beds, stored their clothes and were ready for us to leave.

Happy Girls

I think it will be a good week!

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For Katie’s birthday, which we spent in CT, we gave her a gift certificate for a brand new bicycle. So far, all Katie’s bikes have been hand me downs, including her current bike, which is very definitely a boy bike, handed down from her buddy across the street. She has never been upset about riding a hand me down bike, but the idea of something brand new, that she could pick out herself was pretty tantalizing. Stagg was a big proponent of the brand new bike charge. It has bugged him that she has not had a bike that has only been hers for a long time, and he has talked about getting her one for a while.

In January, Stagg and I tried to figure out what size bike she needed. She was between two sizes, and she wanted the smaller one, but she would have outgrown it within minutes of buying it. The idea of riding a bike the size of her sister’s, though, was intimidating. Further complicating everything was that a) we were testing this in January, when neither of the girls had ridden a bike in months and b) we were riding bikes in the living room because there was still some ice on the ground after our major ice storm. We ended up packing the bikes in the car, taking the girls up to school, and riding. Katie tried Maggie’s bike out and decided it would be ok.

When we went to the store to look at the bikes in person, Maggie immediately found the bike she wanted for her birthday. Katie looked and looked, and ended up deciding on one that Stagg and I both recognized as the bike Maggie already had. We decided to wait for a little while to see if new models came in so we wouldn’t end up having two identical bikes in the garage.

Katie hemmed and hawed for weeks, while Maggie waxed euphoric about the bike she knew she wanted to get for her birthday. I believe during this period, Katie was calculating that if Maggie got a new bike in April, she could have the hand me down that was exactly she wanted. She started asking if she could substitute something else for the bike. I said sure, and we went to the store to look at what else she might want.

In the end, Katie got a brand new camera that made Maggie green with envy because it is fancier than the camera she got for her 7th birthday (cameras have improved in 2 years and come down in price considerably). And, of course, sine Maggie got the new bike she was hoping for, Katie got the purple number she wanted after all.

This is one smart kid.

On Monday morning, a new rash patch was clear on the side of her nose and cheek. There was also a small spot on her eyelid, which seemed troublesome. The quick spreading rash, the Katie’s misery with the itchiness, and our complete surprise that we had any poison ivy in our yard reminded me of my little brother’s first experience with poison ivy when we moved to CT. Like any 10 year old boy, he simply could not resist the cool vine hanging off a tree branch over the pond. Really, is there a better way for a boy to spend a day than pretending to be Tarzan and swing and yell? Of course, the next day, when an itchy rash spread to every inch of his body, it didn’t seem so fun. Well, it probably did, but the plan clearly had a flaw or two. One of the flaws was that the day after the rash came out, we were scheduled to drive 24 hours. Actually, while I’m sure that wasn’t too comfortable for it, he did get extra room since neither our other brother nor I wanted to touch any part of him.

Since one of the things I remembered about my brother’s ordeal was that it got inside his ears, mouth, nose and eyes, Katie went to see the doctor about the bit on her eyelid. Katie told him how much it itched, and which parts of her were the most itchy. She did a great job describing what bothered her, and even admitted to being able to guess where she had found the ivy. He prescribed prednisone to get it under control. As he was filling out the prescription, he mentioned that it had been known to make some kids…”psychedelic.” I think he caught himself a split second before saying “psychotic” in front of the smart 7 year old.

Katie, of course, waited until the door had almost closed after him before asking what psychedelic meant. I told her it meant “funky” and let it go. She’s been asking for over a day if she feels psychedelic yet.

I love the extra little bonuses from the pediatrician.

Maggie and Katie were 2 and 3 when the movie Curious George came out in theaters. We took them to see it, and even though they were still a little young for a full fledged movie, they liked it. Maggie really enjoyed that there was a character named Maggie in the movie, and who doesn’t love a monkey? It also helped that Katie’s favorite color was yellow, and there was lots of yellow in the movie. Stagg and I enjoyed the movie, and I loved the music, too.

One night not long after we saw it, I brought the CD home and slipped it into the girls’ CD player as they were going to bed. We had tried other music to help calm them when they were getting ready for bed, and the results were hit and miss. Dave Matthew’s Band did well for short periods, as did Enya and The Beatles. But what seemed to calm them down one night agitated them a few days later, and we looked for something that would last a little longer.

The Curious George CD, Sing-A-Longs & Lullabies for the Film Curious George by Jack Johnson and Friends worked the first night. The girls liked the new music, asked if it was from the movie, and fell asleep. A week later, they were reminding me to put their night time music on so they could listen to it as they were falling asleep. A month later, they STILL wanted to hear their songs. It seemed we had found a winner.

Five years later, the girls still listen to the same songs every single night. We’ve tried switching things up a couple times. John Mayer made an appearance for a couple nights, and when Jack Johnson came out with a new CD, that got played for a couple nights. But they came back to Sing a Longs and Lullabies because it is their music. For 5 years.

It is hard not to love these songs. Since I sit in the special chair in their room at night while they are settling down, I hear the songs every night, too. My first favorite was “We are Going to Be Friends” about friendship and generally having fun. By now, they are all my favorites. It makes me happy to know that the messages being sent into my children’s ears as they are falling asleep are so positive and uplifting.

It is hard for me not to think of that when I make cookies for an after school snack and ask them about their day. And I can only hope that this message has cemented itself into their subconscious:

They get excited when they hear Jack Johnson singing on the radio in the car when we are driving around town. It almost always means a few minutes of driving that are just a little bit quieter. Sometimes they sing along, sometimes they just take a little break. Every once in a while, they continue chatting and bickering about whatever was happening before they noticed who was singing on the radio.

The thing I find most amusing, though, is how possessive they are about these songs. Each year, I make the girls a CD of music to hand out at their birthday parties. They feature the songs they like, both old school songs of my own youth (MMMBop and Jessie’s Girl are surprise favorites), and newer songs they have found on their own. There have been times when I have suggested including a Jack Johnson song on these CDs because they are such a fixture in their lives. Both girls are adamant. No way, mom. Those are our night time songs. They do not go on the CD. In their minds, at least, Jack Johnson belongs to them.

Maggie had been harping on Katie about this particular issue for a long time. Katie, who is not a morning person, had a morning habit that was gross and got on Maggie’s last nerve. Maggie was right, Katie was wrong, and I made it clear that I was completely on Maggie’s side on this issue. There were consequences in place for Katie not doing what she was supposed to do. But, dealing with issue calmly and quickly was not something that was happening in our house, and the morning arguments were wearing on all of us. Screeching, name calling, yelling, whining and more yelling were a part of the morning routine that, in addition to being a lousy way to start the day, were just taking too much in a morning routine that needs them out the door at 7:01.

Lately, however, there have been fewer of these arguments, and I thought that Katie was doing what she was supposed to do. It had been wonderful to have fewer arguments in the morning, and I thought we were over the hump.

Until yesterday, when I cleaned their room.

Maggie typically comes downstairs first. She likes having the time to eat a good breakfast, and she knows that if she is down, or at least well on her way to coming down the stairs with enough time, I’ll make pancakes and even talk to her for a few minutes while she’s getting her things together. Katie saunters down a little later, willing to eat the pancakes that have already been made, happy to eat in silence while she finishes waking up.

It seems that Katie has been using her time alone upstairs to up the ante on the issue between herself and Maggie. Rather than simply continuing the behavior Maggie (and I) are so opposed to, she found a way to make it even more offensive, while at the same time hiding the evidence so that Maggie had no idea it was going on. She did it calmly, quietly, and over time.

When I moved Maggie’s bed to clean under it, I found myself staring at half a dozen dirty pull ups stashed under the head of the bed.

Of course, I shouldn’t have worried. We could hear the cries of “water balloooooooons” coming from the bus before it got to the stop sign. All the kids on the bus were excited.

More pics of the fun

Katie has been reading little things for a while; even the occasional Eric Carle or Dr. Suess book. And she has looked longingly at Maggie’s longer, more grown up books and asked for chapter books of her own. She’s even tried to take some of Maggie’s books to read, but she just couldn’t quite do it.

So last week, while I was at the library, I picked up an easy reader chapter book for my baby. She “read” it in the car one day, and left it open to a page somewhere in the middle. This past Friday, I brought it back to her and mentioned that I was very proud of her for reading so much of the book.

Nah, she told me. Its too hard for me. I just looked at the pictures and skipped the words.

So we started on the first page. Honestly, I thought she was probably right. She couldn’t possibly read this chapter book. Not my baby. But she did. She read the first chapter aloud with me sitting next to her, and then decided she could tackle the next two chapters on her own. And she read every word on every page.

I think it is time to call her, officially, a reader.

This year has been a bit of a battle when it comes to the soccer games. Her favorite Saturday mornings have been the ones where she has woken up to rain and soccer was canceled. But she has played, grudgingly, when she has had to. She may have hung back a little (ok, a lot), but she went on the field and participated in her own way.

This past weekend was a bit different. It had been a few weeks since we had been able to play, and Katie was adamant that she did not want to play. She cried on the way to the field, yelled at me, and, when I reminded her that she did actually enjoy soccer when she ran around and played, she tried to convince me that I was looking at the wrong kid because SHE definitely DID NOT SMILE at soccer.

Saturday’s game started with tears. She refused to participate in the practice at all, crying and telling me she didn’t want to play. I forced her onto the field for the team prayer, and left her with her coach.

She was not going to make this easy. And oh boy, did I feel guilty. The other parents commented on her in a good natured way, because it was impossible to see that she was not happy.

As though this stance were not evidence enough, when she turned around, it was worse.

Is there anything about that picture that doesn’t scream misery? I felt like a horrible parent. She was CRYING. On the FIELD. She was supposed to be happy and enjoying herself. This was supposed to be FUN! I really wanted to pull her out of the game and let her sit on my lap and tell her it would be ok. But I took a deep breath and let her coach be in charge. Her coach has 4 kids of his own, and knew what he was doing. He kept her on the field while he subbed out other players. Maybe she just needed time. And her coach was so patient (or stubborn) with her. He took her hand and helped her walk more quickly, or even jog toward the field of action. When she wouldn’t let him have her hand, he grabbed the back of her shirt and took her along that way. He was kind and firm. She was going to play, and she was going to have fun. All it was going to take was a little more time.

When there was a goal kick, he gave it to her. She kicked with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face, but she kicked the ball. He gave her another goal kick, and she did the same. He wasn’t giving up.

I really thought half time would be the end of it. Once she got to me on the sidelines, I knew there was no way she’d go back to field. But when the whistle blew, she came off the field, happy. Maybe not HAPPY, but she was clearly willing to go back to play and consider for a moment that soccer was not an elaborate torture device I had invented just for her. She even mentioned the possibility that she might kick the ball of her own accord and try to score a goal. I quickly bribed her with anything I could think of (which ended up being a SURPRISE if she would actually score a goal). She liked that idea, and actually jogged back to the field when the coach called everyone back.

The second half of the game had a different child in it. She ran after the ball, she got into the scrum around the ball. I think, a couple time, she even tried to force her way closer to the ball. She tried to score. She was proud and happy. She even looked like a soccer player!

Katie is now looking forward to next week’s game, which is, of course, the last. She and one other girl are the only ones on the team who have not yet scored a goal this season, and all the kids are working together to change that for them. Katie is very excited about that idea. And she is excited that she will get a trophy next week.

But she is also pretty sure that she doesn’t want to play soccer next year. In fact, she tells me that she doesn’t want to do sports at all except for swimming and gymnastics. I think I will listen to her.