Should I Stay Or Should I Go? It's Best She Went.

Warning: This blog contains the words “throw” and “up” several times together in the same sentence. It’s not too awful graphic, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.
11 a.m.: Claire arrived for a sleepover. As I watched her, I was aware just how much she emulates the behaviors the adults in her life model in her presence. Claire loves to “exercise,” just like her mom and me. She also loves healthy food: cherry tomatoes, grapes, oranges, and oatmeal, to name a few. Also, like her mom and me, Claire loves chocolate chip pancakes. She ordered them for breakfast this morning and Grammy had a bite, too. With syrup. No problem.

When we got home, she proceeded to rearrange my workout room/office, as she always does.

“Help me exercise, Grammy,” she said as she picked up my 2-pound weights (notice the footwear). I picked up two 4-pound weights and she led the instruction.

“Up, down, up, down,” she said, moving the weights over her head.

Fifteen seconds later: “I all done.”

Claire moved on to the elliptical. She can’t move the pedals in a full circle, but she can lean on the front bar enough to give her the momentum to move the pedals back and forth. “I exercise, Grammy,” she says.

Then she moved on to the Thera-Band. She handed me the blue band and she held the green band.

“Pull!” she instructed me. We pulled and pulled and then I let go. Snap! She was startled and then laughed. She let go of her band and snap! This put her in hysterics.

Claire was thirsty, so I brought her some milk. She drank from the straw at a weird angle and when no milk came up she said, “Fix my milk, Grammy.” I did and she said, “Thank you, Grammy.”

The kid is awfully polite.

It took me an hour to eat my soup because, as you know, whenever a 2-year-old is present, time goes so s-l-l-o-o-w-w-w-l-l-y. They see everything, say everything, and need to know everything. From a busy adult’s perspective, this could be hell or, in my case, a vacation. Claire always puts my life in perspective.

12 p.m.: Claire was a little hungry. I gave her a few Goldfish and “Hot Dog” apples (freeze-dried strawberry and banana bits – not apples – in a package with Goofy and Mickey Mouse on the front. She calls everything related to Mickey Mouse “hot dog” because of the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse theme song – “Hot dog, hot dog, hot diggety dog…”).

Claire crawled on my lap. She seemed a bit lethargic. I knew she was tired, so I said, “Let’s go take a nap.” She went potty, washed her hands and asked for some lotion to put on her owie (a miniscule scratch on her thigh). I put a Pull-Up on her and we headed upstairs.

1:18: Claire and I laid in bed and I closed my eyes (modeling sleeping, right?). She sang quietly the song “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” with a little “Jingle Bells” thrown in. I tried not to laugh. She looked at me once in awhile and said, “Shhhh, Grammy s’eepin’.” If only she’d sleep, I kept thinking.

2:08: “I want Mommy!” This hasn’t happened before so I assumed she was homesick. I called Cassie and we decided it was best I take her home. I hung up the phone and told Claire that she was going home to see Mommy.

“No!! I stay at Grammy’s green house!” she said and climbed on to a dining room table chair and said, “Doggies!” which meant she wanted macaroni and cheese.

Well okey dokey.

I called Cassie and told her the trip was off and that Claire wanted to stay. Cassie said if I ever figured out the mind of a 2-year-old, I’d make millions.

3 p.m. After lunch I let Claire watch a little Wow Wow Wubbzy. Soon after I put it on, she ran up to me and said, “I cold, Grammy! Warm me up!” So I grabbed her blankie and wrapped her up. She was content.

3:30 p.m. Papa Larry came home and we took the doggies (real dogs, not macaroni and cheese) for a walk. When we got home, I put Claire in the bathtub.

4:15 p.m. Instead of her usual bathtub exuberance, Claire laid in the water and poked at the bubbles. Something wasn’t right. I called Cassie and told her I didn’t think Claire felt well. We agreed she should go home and decided to meet halfway at our usual gas station. I got Claire out of the tub and put her in her pajamas. Papa heated up the car and we put her in her car seat. She was sound asleep two minutes later.

5:30 I arrived at the gas station. Cassie looked like death warmed over. She said she had to pull over to throw up on her way to meet me. She transferred Claire and we parted ways. Thirty minutes later, my phone rang.

“Mommy, Claire just threw up over everything!” cried Cassie.

Ugh.

9 p.m. Sickness, sickness everywhere. I know there will be many more sleepovers to come, but right now I really miss Claire and feel so badly that she and her mom and brother (yes, Luca has it, too) are so sick. I hope I don’t get it, but if I do and as I worship the porcelain god, I’ll think about happy Claire eating “hot dog apples” on my elliptical earlier today.