From time to time, others have great stories to tell me about my girls and it just occurred to me that I should post them (with permission) so my family and I could look back and enjoy.

BACKGROUND INFO:  Mimi spent a day re-outfitting my old room in her home into a bedroom for the girls – complete with a princess bed (princess bedsheets, etc).

She (Lorelei) had intentions of sleeping in her new bed/bedroom.  She asked me to tuck her in and say a prayer.  So I tucked her in, kissed her forehead and told her to pray. This is what she prayed, “Dear God, Protect me”. (silence) “Dear God, Keep me safe. Amen.”

I was really proud of her.  She sounded so big.  Then she said, “Mimi, you pray”.  So I did.

Then, I turned the light down and went to my room to bed.  A few minutes later she came in my room and said she had lost the glo angel (a nightlight).  She did this a few times, losing something just to come to tell me.  Finally, I told her to get her blanket and sleep with me.  I knew that was what she wanted to do, but she never asked.  Once she got in my bed, I told her it was late (12:00) and we needed to go to sleep.  She said, “ok”. She shut her eyes and so did I.  I would open mine a little and she would open hers and would point her finger at me and say, “Go to sleep, NOW!”   We did that a couple of times and finally both of us fell asleep.

She is so funny with her facial expressions. I wonder where she gets them from?

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The shrill scream ripped through my dream, slicing it in half as my eyes fought the fog of sleep, trying to pry themselves open.  “Mommy!”  Came a little whisper by my ear as two little hands reached up to shake me, fear in her little voice.  “Mommy, there’s a man in my room!”

My breath caught in my throat as I pulled her into the imaginary protective shield of my arms.  My brain began to settle back into sleep as alarming thoughts crept through…was it a real man…or just a dream…probably just a dream…..

“Mom!” She whispered urgently, shaking my shoulders and patting my face.  “There’s a MAN!”  “What?” I moaned.  I had heard her but was looking for clarification, because I was incredibly too tired to chase dreams, and I really didn’t know if I could even run in this state of exhaustion had it been a real man.  After all, had it been a real man, wouldn’t he have stopped her from running to me?  Wouldn’t he be making out with the total of ten dollars he MIGHT’VE scrounged from our couch cushions (except our couch doesn’t even have cushions, out of luck there!)?

“Lorelei, baby…it was just a dream.”  I said, listening carefully for the tiniest movement, hoping I could placate her as well as myself with my reasoning.

“No, mommy.  He had a gun!  He said he wanted to shoot me.  Kill me.”

I stared at her in disbelief, trying to process it all in my still half-asleep brain.  Kill her?  Guns?  Where in the world did that come from?  She watches movies about barbie princesses and strawberry shortcake and french and abcs.  Guns?  We don’t even have real cable!!!  A rush of thoughts flooded my brain…what IF there really was a man in her room?  What if he was waiting to kill us all?  CRAP!  The baby!

I jumped out of bed.  “Show me, Lorelei.”

“Right there.  He was standing right there.”  She said, pointing her finger out to show me a space in front of her bed that now stood empty.  I did a quick check of all rooms, under beds, and closets and came up clean (the way I like it).  No strange men with guns in the closets makes a happy me.

…..

That’s how it all began.  And, after some time, we were able to coax Lorelei back into bed for the night, but from then on, she needed a nightlight.  We told her Un-Lady was just a dream, not really real, but the screaming in the middle of the night kept coming and if she woke up to a dead nightlight that had run out of battery juice, there would be many many tears.  Un-Lady wasn’t just a dream anymore.  She said Un-Lady was a man, a mean man, and he had a gun.  The story pretty much never changed, which isn’t very consistent with dreams.  He didn’t chase her, there were no other dream “places”…it was just real to her.  And then, the “baby” started screaming out in the middle of the night.  Waking up, cowering in the corner of her crib, screaming that scream that you KNOW something is wrong.  It was always the really hurt/terrified cry…the one that makes your heart stop in the middle of your chest when you hear it in the middle of the night.  Sometimes, the baby would be standing in the corner of her crib, hands held tightly to the bars, as she kept anxiously looking over her shoulder, using her feet to try to fling herself out of her crib.  She wasn’t hurt.  She was terrified.

But it was weird.  I would pick her up and she’d still be frantic.  Step one step out of her room, and she was fine.  Step back inside, cue screaming.  Step right outside the door, and calm.  At first, I figured it was a bad dream, but then it got weirder.  She wasn’t wanting out of bed to play, or to simply snuggle…she’d sleep in my bed with me once she had an “episode,” but it wasn’t snuggling…she would cling to me  as if she was tired someone would rip her away.  She would hide her face and body in any little crook my body provided.  She was exhausted, she was terrified.

A few months passed as we bought numerous nightlights to flood their room with light, erasing shadows.  But, the girls would still wake up, terrified – often independently of the other (one would be asleep and wake up later with terrified screams).

And then, a friend came over… a little girl that was given a gift at birth that she neither wanted or liked.  She could see things that I couldn’t see.  So, I asked her to go through my house and just let me know what she found.  I didn’t tell her where to look or which rooms to go through.  She went through them all.

After going through the girls’ room, she came out, her face white as she gripped a nearby chair for support.  “Something,” she said, pointing to their room, “has been in there.”

“Tell me more,” I said.  I wanted more information but didn’t want to lead and wasn’t really sure how far her gift reached.

“It’s an older man.  He’s angry.  There’s a space in front of Lorelei’s bed and when I touched the crib, I thought I was going to pass out.”

“Okay,” I said, trying to string thoughts together.  “Angry…as in…it wants to kill us or angry at someone else kind of angry?”

“Angry, but he doesn’t want to kill you, but he’s not necessarily pleasant to be around either.  Also, he was in your room.”

“Do you SEE him?  Like, now?”

“No, he’s not here.  He just was here.  I can’t feel him as strong in your room so it’s been a while, but in their room (she points), it’s very recent.”

“Like, how recent?”

“A couple of hours ago.”

She didn’t know that a couple of hours ago, I had sent Lorelei to take a nap and she’d jumped out of her bed moments later, unable to sleep.  She didn’t know that a couple of hours ago, my three year old had screamed to nobody in particular “I SAID LEAVE. ME. ALONE!!  MOMMY SAID YOU CAN’T BE HERE IF I DON’T WANT YOU!”

She didn’t know, but yet she knew.

———————————————————–

UPDATE: After a lot of thought and a few people not taking us and our concerns very seriously, we invited fellow God-believers over and crammed our living room full with 14 people (including children), and on our knees, we prayed and blessed our home.  Even the smallest children were on their knees…and then there was Lorelei, her head bent fervently as she struggled to repeat the entire prayer (nobody else was repeating it.  Just her and the leader.)  It’s been 3 weeks since we’ve had any UN LADY incidents.  This makes us very happy.

“You’re a genius!”  — I’ve heard it more than occasionally, and really, who am I to argue?  If enough people say it, it must be true, right?  Sure, sure.  We’re just gonna run with it.

Anyhow, do you ever get those AH-HA moments?  -Not the kind where you’re about to sneeze but then end up coughing or laughing.  No, I mean the AH-HA, a light bulb just went off in my head and ohmygosh it didn’t even short out!! kind of moments.

Yeh, well I don’t get those very often.  Probably because I’m a genius.  It’s hard being a genius, you know?  Sometimes you forget you know stuff and then you remember and suddenly it’s gone again because really, your head is just not big enough to hold all of this massive knowledge.   (Which might have to do with my constant headaches.  Note to self:  Google “genius headaches” because real geniuses don’t go to the doctor,  they’re supposed to make their medicine.  In their lab.  In their basement.  I don’t have a basement.  Crap.)

Anyways, stop distracting me.  I’m trying to tell you something.

Oh yes, it’s dangerous to be a genius.  Everybody wants your help.  And, sometimes, they just want you dead.  Like, for instance, the wasps under my porch steps.  I’m pretty sure they could be recruited by the military and earn some major ribbons for their ferociousness.  Seriously, these are some really pissed off wasps.  I bet they are part of the uncool group of wasps and probably weren’t allowed to hang out with the cool wasps, so now they hate the world.  And, they decided to hang out under my porch steps to see if they could assassinate us.  Because my whole family is made up of geniuses…it runs in the family or something.

Anyhow, I know all of this because Lorelei came up the steps and a huge SWARM of wasps pummeled her.  I saw 4, but it was probably because I was distracted with solving algorithms in my head, so I missed seeing the rest of the swarm.  I pulled her and the baby to safety but it was too late.  They had gotten Lorelei.  And, these things must be freaks.  Freak wasps because their stingers are HUGE and left a gaping hole in her leg.  That might be why they’re so mad.  I’d be mad if I was a freak wasp, too.

I pulled her up onto the couch and she was all “I’m DYYYINNNGGG, they’re trying to KIIILLLL MEEEEEEE!” in her little toddler wail as she held on to her leg.  I didn’t really know what to say, because she’s probably right.  Not about the dying part, but it probably was an assassination attempt.  I called my mom because DUDE, doesn’t everyone call their mother after someone tries to kill them and their family?  I mean, I would’ve called my body guard, but nobody seems to want that job.  Probably because my life is so dangerous, you know…being a GENIUS stay at home mom and all.

Mom said I should put a baking soda paste on it and I was all like “PBBTTT  They’re expecting that!  And…I have a black couch!!”  So, I looked in my arsenal of things and brought out the activated charcoal.  Everybody has activated charcoal in their medicine cabinets, right?  I mean, you never know when someone might try to gas or poison you.  Come on people, be smart!  Gosh, there I go again, forgetting I’m a GENIUS and not everybody is as smart as me.  Sorry bout that.

Then, in an effort to make Lorelei feel better, mom came over and brought an assortment of goodies.  I tried convincing her that a parfait from McDonalds would make us ALL feel better, but she clearly disagreed (that, and apparently the cars in line at McD’s didn’t understand that it was an emergency, so they wouldn’t just move the heck out of the way.)  At the bottom of the bag, there were 2 cans of spray.   YEH!  Protection!  Retaliation!  LET’S KILL THEM and AVENGE MY BABY’S LEG!  YEAH! Wait, why does this say ant spray on it?  I looked at her through squinty eyes, trying to figure out if she thought this was funny or if perhaps, she’d lost it.  “All I had was ant spray and it worked for me!”  She said.  So, most likely, I have ant wasps…no wonder they’re ticked off.

Anyhow, I made a black charcoal paste and it took the swelling down.  But it was only temporary.  A day later and half her leg was swollen and icky.  Tricky poison!!  So, I put more paste on it and today…it looked like this:

The swelling and redness had gone down, but what’s that?  TWO sting entrances?  Awesome.  (Poor kid.)

In other news, Aurora is cutting her two top first molars.  TWO.  One on each side.  I was going to share a picture for her, but I really didn’t think you all would appreciate seeing the diarrhea diapers this produces.

You know you’re in trouble when your toddler runs into the bathroom while you’re trying to take a shower in peace and yells “MOMMY!  Aurora is getting poop all over her blankets!!!” – and then the flashbacks of a baby smeared in poop pop through your brain.

*Sigh*  Being a genius sucks.  I quit.

We don’t technically EVER stop homeschooling – it’s a continual thing, all day, all year long.  But, yesterday was our OFFICIAL first day (where we keep more of a schedule about it).

Here are Lorelei’s Preschool First Day Of School Pictures:

This month, here’s what we have been/are learning:

Reading

• Recognition of letters A-O (we use a variety of ABC books, flashcards, sticky letters that you use to make bulletin boards, paper and pen, worksheets, and books with small amounts of large print).  With the exception of “K,” Lorelei has done really well.  We’re currently 2 weeks ahead of our schedule for this!
• Practice writing letters L, O, T, I, and A
• Practice pairing said letters with pictures (T is for Tiger)
• Practice recognizing the sounds each letter makes
• Read together and let her point out certain words by using books that repetitively use the same words.
• Watch My Baby Can Read Beginner DVD
• ABC videos
• Sing ABC song
• ABC soup!
• Leapfrog ABC magnetic fridge game
• Help write letters to her penpal (who is the child of a friend of ours that lives in another state)
• BrainQuest “Max” cards (comprehension)

Math

• Practice verbally counting to 20
• Practice counting objects to 20
• Practice recognizing numbers 1-10
• Practice writing numbers 1-10
• Introduction to a number line – we don’t expect her to have this completely down at 3, but plan to continuously re-introduce it so it becomes a part of learning
• Recognize More/Less than and The Same
• Intro to simple math (You have 5 crackers and give 2 to your sister, how many do you have left?)

Science

• Temperature
• Seasons and Weather
• Like and Unlike plants
• Stars and Planets continued (an introduction that they exist, not too in depth yet)
• Colors and the mixing of colors – using colored water
• sunlight and the sun (We will talk about the sun and what it does and then make sun prints)

Social Studies and Skills

• Japan 2
• Korea 1 and 2
• Simon says (following directions)
• Introduction to chores and responsibilities in a scheduled manner
• Introduction to Money and denominations of money (penny, nickel, dime, quarter, dollar)
• Saving, Giving, Spending (10,10,80)–Which we will probably end up making a 50, 10, 40 rule since she’s 3.

I was looking at our homeschool “plan” for this week and saw INTRO TO MONEY among the list, along with CARING FOR PLANTS and a few other random things I’d like Lorelei to learn about.  And, as I brainstormed on how I would approach these subjects this week, I had an idea:

Excuse the chore chart.  I didn’t have the chores pre planned out, so I didn’t realize I’d have time-specific type chores that should go in order.  We’ll probably be re-doing the chart later.

HOWEVER, the little graphics have been super helpful.

Every chore on the chart has a color beside it, which corresponds to a pom-pom.  The pom-poms begin the day in a small empty baby food jar.  As she completes a chore, she gets to move one pom pom from the jar to the “completed” jar (which is just another baby food jar but with a butterfly sticker in the bottom).

Once she completes all chores for the day, she gets an “allowance.”

All of her allowance is then put into her money “jars” – which is a set of three jars that I color coded with ribbons for the following :  SAVING (10 percent), GIVING (10 percent), and SPENDING (80 percent).

Right now, we started at $1 a day.  Because we can but ALSO because:

• $1 is easiest to explain the 10,10,80 rule we’ve implemented.  It’s simply 10 cents, 10 cents, 80 cents.
• Her “savings” (for now) is going to a fund she can’t touch until she’s older.  Think of it as her college fund.  Or, her car fund.  Or, whatever.  I don’t particularly like the idea of paying for my kids way to college or buying them brand new cars as soon as they get their drivers licenses, but I also don’t believe in pushing them out of the nest completely on their own.  I do believe in teaching them responsibility and giving them the tools so they don’t take it for granted.
• $1 is a LOT of money for a preschooler.  I agree.  Especially when they’re getting it daily for chores, BUT she is going to be using some of her money for necessary things…like special snacks and new clothes she wants.  Essentially, we’re giving her the money that we’d normally spend on her in one way or another and letting her have more responsibility (although it will be very monitored and guided).  For example, she has already told me that she plans to spend her first bit of money on a storage tote.  Yes, a storage tote for her extra toys that are over-crowding her room.  Oh, and shoes.  Pink shoes.
• This $1 won’t necessarily change, up or down, depending on her age.  She’ll get more responsibility as she gets older but the amount will change as we see fit (if it does at all).
• It’s not all about the money.  It’s about responsibilities.  It’s about teaching about money and how to use it as a tool (rather than let it become a thorn in your side).  It’s about teaching skills in the form of “chores.”  It’s about letting her be more independent and helping her feel important.  It’s about showing her that being part of a family means we all take part in doing things…even if it’s just watering the plants.  It’s all important.

So, there you go.  Our Pre-schooler’s chore chart –which she is super excited about.

When your first child is in the womb and you feel those rib-shattering kicks, you wonder if you’re child is going to be a star soccer player – or a member of the Chinese mob.  And then, when your child begins tip-toeing around the room, arms gracefully waving before and over her, you wonder if she’s going to be a dancer.  Until, of course, she does an unmistakable booty dance move (which you KNOW you didn’t teach her) and then you’re all ready for her to just learn something new because really, how many strippers can afford to take care of their parents?  That, and it makes for awkward conversation in some circles.

You wonder and dream about the talents your children will have bestowed upon them.  You imagine what they’ll be like when they’re older and if they’ll even remember much of anything about right now.

But, then they do something unexpected.

Last night, I was awoken by tiny little whispers by my ear.  “Mommy,” the shushed voice said, “there’s a man-thing in my room.”

“What?”  I mumbled, sleep still fogging all of senses.  I mean, I’d heard what she’d said, but wasn’t really sure I wasn’t concocting her standing there in my own little imagination.

“Mommy…” she repeated, “There’s a man in my room.  He told me to call him UN LADY.  He kind of looks like a girl.”  She went on to explain that the night visitor did have a mouth, nose, ears, and was moving about in her room.

“Mmph.”  I grumbled.  “Get in bed with mommy.”  I motioned to the other side of the bed as I swiftly knocked off the books and planner into the floor.

Normally, I would’ve ran straight into her room.  I would’ve checked (for my own sake) under every little nook and between any cranny for a person.  But, last night?  I knew that whatever she saw – whether it was paranormal or her overactive imagination – wasn’t something I’d be able to see or touch.  And, really, I can’t pepper spray THAT.  And, I’m pretty sure my landlord wouldn’t believe me when he rushed in to see bullet holes in the wall.  I really doubt he’d care that I was trying to make do because I was fresh out of pure silver bullets.

I always wondered what her talents would be, I never really thought it would be a sixth sense.

My little girl can see dead people.  How awesome is that?  Right.  Tonight, we’re loading up water guns with holy water.

*Yes, I am aware that my child looks a little homeless.  I assure you her hair was brushed right AFTER this picture.

What?  You don’t put up photos of your children with wet, un-brushed hair and bubba teeth?

I used to be one of those moms who was all “Oh yeh, I’ll never lie to my kids.  I’ll just only tell them what they specifically ask when things get sticky.”

*snort*  Yeh, that didn’t last long.

You know, we thought we were just SO friggin’ smart when we took away her pacifier and let her “find her thumb” – as if it was lost.  We figured, “Oh hey, now she can’t lose it!”  -And, well, at least that part was true, but after she turned 3, it wasn’t something we were so excited about.

Like any good parents, we did the bribery thing.  “Lorelei, let’s not suck your thumb and then we can get you a baby mermaid, okay?”  Being the master negotiator that she is (she IS my daughter, after all), she eyed me suspiciously.  “You’re going to get me the whale?”

“No, honey.  Mommy will get you the Ariel princess baby mermaid.  Won’t that be FUN?!”  (said a little too excitedly that even the baby knew I was exaggerating)

“Yeh.  The Princess whale.”

(I tried not to grin.  Oh, she is my daughter! – And, I could completely see her point.  Ariel IS almost a whale.)  “Yeh, her.  But, only if you stop sucking your thumb!  Okay?”

“Okay!” She declared, “Look!  I no suck my thumb!  Where’s my whale?”

I quickly clarified that she had to stop sucking her thumb PERIOD.  Then, it became a no-deal.  Not even princess whales were worth that.

Then, like any good parent, I upped my tactics and went with the bittertastingthumb.  She just frowned and sucked more vigorously.  FAIL.

We tried making it a rule, where thumb sucking was no longer allowed.

We tried to reason with the kid, telling her that if she kept sucking her thumb, her teeth would look funny and her finger would be all yucky.  She wasn’t too concerned.  Oh, she talked about it nonstop with questions, but she did it between sucking.

Our pediatrician even told us that if we were worried enough, we could do the hand cover that she’d wear for several months CONTINUOUSLY that would keep her from physically putting her thumb into her mouth.  That seemed a little barbaric to me, so we decided to wait.

I’d finally given up, figuring I’d have a 17 year old thumb-sucker when she asked,

“What’s this?”  Pointing to the nasty callous on her thumb.  I think my head may have dropped into my hands at that point, not ready for ANOTHER thumb-sucking conversation that would end with… thumb sucking.  My husband, without missing a beat, picked up the conversation.

“It’s where you’re sucking your thumb off.”

“I am not!”  She said, horrified at the accusation she’d just been charged with.

“Yep, if you suck your thumb too much, it’ll just fall off!”

Eying him suspiciously, she turned to me, “Mommy, is my thumb going to fall off?”

“Um, just listen to your father!”  I said too brightly, hightailing it out of the room to fill up my already full glass of water.

She placed her thumb in her mouth, eyes on us, then took it back out.  “Can I suck my thumb?  Is it going to fall off?”

“That’s up to you!  You can suck it if you want to, but it might fall off if you do!”

The seed was planted.

And so it was:  If you suck your thumb, it might fall off.

A few days later, in the van:

“Mommy?  What’s that?”  She said, pointing to a series of ambulances zooming past with their sirens blaring.

Without missing a beat, I replied, “Probably someone’s finger fell off….  Lorelei!  Check your thumbs!  Are they still there?”

She pulled out her thumbs (which were attached).

“Phew.  That was close.”  I said, as my mother gave me a sideways glance from the driver’s seat and mouthed “Whattheheck?”

Yep.  Parenting at it’s finest.

In related news:  Lorelei no longer sucks her thumb!

Dear Jesus,

Thank you, God.  Thank you for my baby Aurora sister crying.  Thank you for my daddy.  Thank you and stuff.

God, please bring my baby back, please.  And, please make me feel better.  Mommy wanted a baby in her tummy, I’d like it back.  Thanks.

Thank you for my God.  Please let me have a baby so we can potty AND swing AND slide.  And…

Amen.

2 minutes. 

That’s the amount of time I let the baby and toddler out of my sight so I could start a new load of laundry.

2 minutes.

That’s the amount of time it took for Lorelei to use the big girl potty and for Aurora to follow her into the bathroom.

2 minutes.

That’s all it took.

And, that’s about when I walked in to find my 3 year old looking on, horrified, as her one year old sister fished her hand into the potty, apparently trying to catch her sister’s…

poop.

Yeh, I said it.

That’s definitely NOT what I expected to find.

(The good news is, I walked in just as it happened…so, she didn’t have time to take her paci out of her mouth.  And no, she didn’t catch anything.)

Dear Lorelei,

You are three, now. Wow, it feels so weird saying that. It seems like just yesterday I was holding you all brand new in a hospital room.

You’re teaching us so much every day, and we love you dearly.

You’ve used your imagination since you were only a few months old (with Peter Pan food), but now, you’re just bursting with magic and mystery. You love to play with dolls and make up stories. You adore singing and dancing, so much so, that I can’t believe we haven’t gotten you your own ipod (or at least a dock with speakers so we could plug ours in for you to listen to).

Some of your favorite things right now are: Singing (Jesus Loves Me, Jesus Loves All The Little Children, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star), Playing with your Little People and Barbies, playing with your little sister (who also likes to dance), making music, crafts (oh, how you love crafts), the park, cupcakes, playing on your toy slide on the porch and your water table, our homeschool lessons, dress up, science experiment kits, chicken nuggets, and macaroni and cheese.

Getting you to sit down long enough to eat can be a bit of a task, although you’re always saying you’re hungry. –Especially when it comes to nap or bedtime You really don’t love naptime or going to bed, you think you’ll miss out on so much.

When you were a baby, I was so worried that I didn’t talk to you enough. The books and magazines I read insisted that I should be describing in detail our entire day play by play to you, as it happened. But, constant talking and noise just isn’t in my personality. I would talk to you, but often, we’d find ourselves just playing quietly, me caught up in just enjoying you. Today, you don’t seem to have been affected by it. Actually, you don’t STOP talking most days. Now, you want to know EVERYTHING that’s going on, and in order. Then, you’ll ask EVERYONE else around what’s going on to see if our “story” matches. Your conversations go on and on, most of the time repeating the same thing 5 or 6 times before moving on.

You adore your blankie still, and use your thumb to soothe yourself – but, mostly just around nap or bed-time…or, if you’re upset.

You’re changing, sweet girl, and I am enjoying watching you slowly morph into who God will ultimately shape you into being. Right now, you are practicing your independence. You’re working through emotions and how to handle them – especially, disappointment and anger. We’re trying to teach you (and learn, ourselves) how to be more graceful in our responses.

Finally, you are out of diapers. It was your choice. You really just wanted a barbie doll. So, we made a deal: potty 3 times that day and you would get your own. After that, you pottied for prizes (the “extras” that came with the doll and stickers and tiny candies) for about a week until you had it down. Now, you don’t really get “prizes,” but you get pretty upset if you have an accident. Right now, we’re working on night training. You have the hang of it, it’s just being able to wake up, that has you working.

I love watching you get so excited about the prospect of being a “big” girl – from pottying and making your own snack to helping mommy and daddy. I love your heart, I love your soul. I love you. All of you.

Love,

Mommy

(and some new pics created by the fabulous Emilee!)

**Lorelei officially turned THREE earlier this month.