Zora Travels

Fancy a Shave?

So, folks, it's Day 8 of "Operation Green Snot," yet, these hardwood floors are echoing once again with the pitter-patter and excited Noodle trills and shrieks.  She's BACK...a wee bit snotty, so still off-limits to her pint-sized amigos, but back to eating, pooping, laughing, and scurrying about

*Did you note the absence of "sleeping" in that list?  I know that you did, JeeYoung & Daniela!

Sleep is still an elusive concept for Ms. Saucy. She is back up to some very old tricks...and being totally (and properly) indulged under the protection of "poor sick baby."  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here she is asleep in my arms on Day 5.  This hasn't happened since she was 6 weeks old.

Today, she nursed her entire hour nap.  I know, I know.  Slippery slope.

 

 

 

 

 

And it's her lucky day because she is about to be shielded by the visit of her beloved Lola.  We shield all our visitors (who sleep only feet away from her door) from Nora's scream-spectacular.  Lucky, lucky girl.

But you know what's going to happen in a week?  The World Premier of the "Boo Hoo All Night Show." That familiar story arch that's acted out throughout the toddler cribs of America.

And what have we been up to on our eighth painful day of shunning playdates and germ-sharing?  Some more stabs at sensory play.  Free-form imaginative play where I disconnect from my Facebook/Words with Friends addiction, tune into watching Nora frolic, and allow her to explore and get messy...very messy.

Today started with an epic FAIL on the "Build a Fort" invitation.  I covered the couch, coffee table and ottoman with blankets and proceeded to entice my daughter by slithering on my belly, through clumps of cat hair, crushed Cheerios, and grains of kitty litter.  

My butt stuck up so high that I kept destroying the fort as I moved through.  Every time I would come up sweaty from a tunnel, I would find her staring at me, knitted brows, questioning my sanity.  Completely still.  Unwilling to climb into the fortress.  Confused as to why I was squealing and giggling underneath the blankets.

 

I felt a bit stupid, disheveled, and coated in cat hair.  I set out to find us another activity.  

 

Whilst rifling through the bathroom cupboards, I came across an ancient (certainly toxic) electric blue shaving cream.  It would never make it onto our skins...so why not into a sensory tub filled with fluffy cream? 

 

The Invitation:

• plastic tub 
• shaving cream
• paint brushes
• golf balls
• ice cubes
• spoons
• various cups and tupperware containers

Sensory Vocabulary:

fluffy, creamy, cold, wet, dry, slippery, rough

 

And what did Noodle think?  Well, the pictures tell the tale.  She kept HERSELF amused (with me nearby) for 51 minutes (yes, I noted the time on the photos).  This was fabulous...for both of us.  Our minds and imaginations went wild.  We were outside on a warm fall day.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Hmmm, what's this stuff?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Cool, slimy golf ball and a cold ice cube."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Look, Dad, doesn't this look fun?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I think I'll paint my feet."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Mom, you need some, too."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Focus. Focus. Focus.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Excuse me, I'm playing here."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And look, John, you would be proud.  A petite painter who always washes her brushes!

 

 

 

This photo is for Grandpa John & Grandpa Steve.  The painter and the golfer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not so fun when I brought her inside for a warm bath.

 

*Look closely, there are some glistening tears involved.

 

 

It was heaven.  Pure joy, laughter, bonding, and fun.  

First Cold & Sensory Fun

Nora is at the tail end of her first cold.  She had sniffles months ago and one horrible six-hour stomach bug at 4 months old...but nothing like this.  She fights to breath through her stuffed nose.  Moans in her crib - half-asleep - but irritated at the obstructions.  And she's teething...or maybe it is all just teething-related and not a cold at all.  I haven't found anyone who can tell me for sure which is which.  And, I suppose, it doesn't even matter.

Since Monday morning, she is my super-shadow.  Choosing 10+ nursing sessions a day and night, in lieu of food.  Signing "nurse" over and over with glazed eyes, dripping red nose, and crusty eyes.  It's a sight to be seen.  My heart breaks that she's not feeling well...and my own body is starting to feel the drag of caring for her throughout the night...but the extra cuddling time from my typical non-cuddler has been a nice side-effect. Sleep training is out the window now that she's sick.

And it's a lonely road.  Makes me realize just how much we both get out of our social outings.  Monday was to be a bike ride along the beach, yesterday was painting with pudding at the park, and today was to be a playdate...instead, we bundle up and take walks in the fresh air around the neighborhood. Dipping into the coffee shop for a hot tea to-go.  Strolling through the neighborhood, pointing out the falling leaves, and trying not to interact with anyone and spread her germs.

Oh, and the construction continues.  The 2.5 week adventure of construction crews and landscapers being in our back yard for hours each day is coming to an end.  The hammers, buzz saws, door slamming, the contractor's terrier, Minnie, constant yipping, the deck sealing fumes, the chain saws, the crew men yelling back and forth, the blocked parking space, the interruption of 75% of ALL NAPS for TWO AND A HALF weeks is almost finished. 

For instance, right now, the truck doors are slamming, the dog is barking, and Nora has started to moan. She's been asleep for only 10 minutes!  Grrrrr...says the Mama Bear.

Nevertheless, we have managed to have a good time.  I set out my first "sensory invitation."  Three bowls filled with things to touch, scoop, dump, and mix.  Bow-tie pasta, penne pasta, and brown rice.  Nora loved it.  

For three days now, she's reached for the bowls on the counter and we set them all down on the floor and she goes to town.  Always putting some treasures in my shoes, mixing them all together, and her favorite activity -- dumping.

 

 

I had to take a deep breath before letting her play.  I knew there would be a mess.  I knew I would find rice grains and pasta crunched between my toes for weeks to come...but childhood should be a bit messy.  And if we had a fenced yard (which we SOON will), I would do this type of thing outside.  It occupies her for 20 minutes...which is spectacular!  She wants me near but can do her own thing for a few minutes before needing some interaction. 

This website has inspired me in incredible ways.  Each day I visit them to:

 A. feel a twinge of laziness and guilt

B. get inspired to find something simple to spark Nora's mind for the day

 

***And they've done it...AGAIN.  For the 88th time, the contractor has slammed his door and his menacing slime-dog is barking... waking Nora from her nap.  Awesome!

This is the type of day when I fantasize about my nanny who shows up at my door right at 4:30pm and says, "Even though Nora has a cold, let me take her on an afternoon stroll and give you a little break.  I've poured you a glass of chilled sweet wine and placed it by your book on the nightstand.  We'll be back in an hour to tidy up the house and prepare dinner. "  

 

Oh, Daniel's arrival at 6pm and 30 minutes of help before bedtime is a long, long, long way off.  

And editing this post is not going to happen. Grammar and spelling be damned...