The kiddie car in the dining room is ticking. It could be a bomb, but I think it's more likely the cow kitchen timer, tucked carefully within it's innards by an industrious child. We have several industrious children in this household.
This car is Layla's car. But Caroline YEARNS for it. It is just her size and she loves to climb on and she can ride pretty well. Layla will share with her, but is still somewhat territorial about it being hers. It's not that there aren't other things around here to ride on. Roll of eyes. I am buying a used fireman car with lights and noises from someone tomorrow that I was planning to give to Caroline for Christmas, but I think I'm going to go ahead and give it to her early, as my mommy's heart is moved by the naked longing on her face as she watches Layla zoom around.
Now it's later and Caroline is sleeping while Layla watches a video. I keep trying to motivate myself to get the house picked up but I'm having issues with needing to hold down the chair in front of the computer with my tired and lazy body. Layla has been sleeping in our bed the past few nights because of a bad cough that made her vomit two separate nights. Treatment is Vicks on the feet, an albuterol nebulizer when the coughing restarts, and sleeping under a cold mist vaporizer aimed straight for her head. She actually has slept so well in our bed without the normal wake up and scream sessions that she often has, that it's sort of conducive to sleep. Last night Zion popped up in our room asking if I could go to Layla's bed to lay down with him because he was scared, and I had him just crawl under the covers at the foot of our bed, where he spent the rest of the night. So there were four people in our queen sized bed. Yawn.
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"What brung that up with you?" Israel-speak for "What brought that up?"
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