the best of misheard lyrics

On our way to Lily's bi-weekly Brownie Girl Scout meeting last night, I was subjecting her to some of my music -- stuff I grew up with. And, in just another way I'm pretty lucky:  our music compatibility is pretty high and she rarely complains about what I choose for us to listen to.

One of my favorite songs is "St. Elmo's Fire (Man in Motion)" by John Parr, and I play it quite often while I'm sitting at my computer, working out, cleaning the house, etc., etc. I'm not sure how it has happened that Lily's never heard it before tonight.

Or, maybe she has, but was never actively trying to listen to the lyrics.

Anyway, the song is playing, I'm driving along, enjoying the tune and feeling uplifted (and singing along) as always. Then, Lily pipes up from the backseat.

"Hey, Mom? Did that just say 'Santa's nose is on fire'?"


...I am never going to experience that song the same way ever again. It's been forever changed for me. In a good --no, in the best -- way. Now it's going to make me smile even harder when I hear it.



Forget Rudolph. Santa's nose is on fire. Heh.

{wordless} giving

Our daughter has the most caring, most thoughtful, most giving heart. In my thirty years, I've only come across a handful of people I'd honestly say that about, and she is not included because I am biased. Honestly, because she is mine, the bar has been held that much higher for her to be there.

She cries because she so happy that she can't handle the emotion, she feels pain for her friends (which often makes her cry, too), and she's the first one to offer up something of her own if she knows someone else will enjoy it.

The latter is the case with this photograph. It's of an owl sticker she found among her many Christmas gifts, and something she held in her hand as she came down the stairs just a few minutes ago  singsonging, "Mooooommm, I have a present for you. I know it's something you'll like..."

She never ceases to amaze me. I cannot, for the life of me, picture my seven-year-old self giving anyone anything. Not a sticker, not a toy...nothing. I liked my things, and I liked them to remain mine. Nor did I --or,  rarely do I now, even-- ever show the depth of emotion that this little girl does.

She is amazing and wonderful, and I have so very much to learn from her.

{wordless} work of art

Have I mentioned I adore owls? No??

Well, I do.

Imagine my delight when Lily brought home her art-project-slash-fundraiser that was an owl. AN OWL SHE PAINTED.

Yeah, I pretty much bought all the things. Mugs, mousepads, notecards, etc, etc.

Can you blame me???

been busy living life...

While my blog has been boring, life has been anything but. Here are the highlights, in no particular order:

• Lily missed three days of school due to the croup.
• We traveled down to and spent Veterans' Day weekend with my in-laws in New Jersey. The Sandy devastation --especially through Connecticut and New York-- was insane.
• I registered to "go back" to school in January. (I'm going to save the details on this for another post!)
• I've had two (out of three) pets to the vet for regular checkups. Both --Maggie and Sadie-- are doing fine. Sadie actually goes back again tomorrow for her second Lyme Disease vaccination booster.
• Lily joined a Brownie troop.
• I got a chance to spend a day with my favorite cousin. She came to see our new home, then she and I did lunch and a little shopping (where I spent too much at AC Moore, as usual).
• Sadie graduated from puppy obedience class.
• I met with Lily's teacher for the first parent-teacher conference of the year. My kiddo is doing great. Top of her class in math, actually. Yay!! She's also fitting in well with her new classmates :) 

And...I got caught up on my housework. Well, maybe for a day, anyway...

facts, and a fiction.

After two doctors appointments, three doses of antibiotics, six missed days of school, and eight days of bedrest, Lily went back to school this morning. She's still not 100%, but she's getting there. She doesn't know it yet, but she'll be resting plenty more over the weekend. She's going to love that.

(On Monday morning, I took her back to the doctor. Double ear infection. Didn't call that at all, did I?) 

With missed school comes makeup homework, and hers arrived in the form of math (addition), science (sun/moon), and writing (stories!!). Lily has been writing stories for a year now, and the idea of it still blows my mind. Kindergarten, and writing stories. When we were in kindergarten, my husband and I were learning how to write letters and numbers. Our daughter was expected to put sentences together in a "beginning, middle, end" format before she could even spell many of the words she wanted to use. Craziness.

I couldn't help but be impressed (and touched) by her newest, completed on Tuesday afternoon:

The last page, especially, made me smile. We love you too, Lilybug.

"you know, mom..."

I'm starting to learn I should always brace myself for whatever follows those words. I truly never know what is coming. But, back to that in a minute.

Our daughter is in first grade, and therefore, sick more often than not. We're currently in the middle of battling yet another illness; one that's brought along with it a relatively high fever and pretty persistent cough. This is Day 5, and I think --dare I hope??-- she might be on the mend.

As these things often have a way of turning into one sort of infection (ear) or another (bronchitis) for her, I took her to the pediatrician on Thursday morning after the day of rest and pushing fluids on Wednesday only seemed to produce higher temperatures and more coughing. This was when we got our diagnosis of "it's viral", and when I resigned myself to the fact we'd most likely be sitting in the same spot again next week and getting an antibiotic for at least one of the fore-mentioned delights.

On our drive home, she was uncharacteristically quiet. I knew she obviously couldn't be feeling very well, but a quick glance over my shoulder proved her to be doing okay, so I left her to herself and me to the radio. For all I knew, she was enjoying Phil Collins too. Besides, talking caused (and is still causing) her many coughing fits.

What she was actually doing was pondering a fact that had randomly entered her head. And then, doing a little math. When she'd thoroughly thought the whole thing over, she decided she'd let me in on it, very matter-of-factly.

"You know, Mom, in twenty years you'll be 50."



...oy.