Walking the Dog: July 23, 2013

Here's an interesting snapshot from our week.  Mommy is already gearing up for the fall, when the girls will join Devon in five hours a week of organized learning at TOTS.  They'll be in a different class, a must for a big brother who's already a little henpecked from having the girls around all the time, but will be dropped off and picked up at the same time.  Mommy isn't happy about the prospect of wheeling the girls in the stroller just to keep them from running away, so she is trying out the concept of baby leashes.
My one mistake was to get Carrie in her monkey leash and let Devon amuse himself by leading her all around the house while I got Melina into her elephant leash.  By the time we were all ready to leave the house, Devon was NOT ready to relinquish control.

"No!" he insisted.  "This is NOT your doggie.  This is MY doggie!"

So our walk was thirty-five terrifying minutes of Devon and Carrie careening down the street as I sprinted behind, stepping in whenever they stepped off the path or someone fell down and was going to get dragged.  At one point exactly halfway through, I despaired of ever getting back home.  At that moment, an elderly gentleman rounded the far corner walking two small dogs of his own.

"Goggie!" said Carrie, and they both raced down the street to meet them.

"HI!"  This is my dog.  Her name is Carrie.  What are your dogs' names?" said Devon, stoically.  He and Carrie squatted down on their haunches and regarded the real dogs, delighted when their fingers were delicately sniffed.

Poor man was new to the neighborhood.  I remarked something flippant about the irony of meeting dogs while walking babies on leashes and we were on our way.
 

We're counting down to two years old, and this girl knows it.  She's trying out some rebellious clothing choices: those are big brother's sunglasses worn as a belt.

Thank you all for the support and prayers during Devon's recent troubles.  This is not the face of a boy whose allergy meds are making him a sleepless wreck!

I titled this picture "Like a Lamb to the Slaughter" because I didn't tell him the trip to Chick-fil-A was because we were off to the allergist.  After the allergist's visit last week we're on a different medication that doesn't have side effects, and a new slipcovered mattress has him sleeping until 8 every morning!  I'm not sure the words are even able to convey what a positive change this is for our family and especially for him.  He's a very ordinary three-year-old that loves to refuse his nap, but most that do that sleep in late and go to bed very early to compensate.  Devon was going to bed at 9 or later and up before seven EVERY morning.  The sleep charts will tell you that's not enough sleep for a ten-year-old!  No wonder he was so cranky.  And, in case you're wondering, ten hours a night isn't nearly enough time for me to repair the damage that three kids under four do to the housekeeping, have recreation, and then get enough sleep.  Mommy hasn't been at her best since the beginning of summer when all this started.

 We are still waiting for the results of the blood test that will determine if Devon has any severe food or environmental allergies.  We'll see.  He endured the stick bravely, and Mommy was encouraged because he appears to have Daddy's easy veins.  Afterwards, he asked for grapes as a reward.

We are so thankful that Mama flew down from Nashville for a few weeks to give us some more options for how to spend our summer.  We'd been taking the most miserable little outings in the hot sun because me swimming alone with all three of them is impossible.  This trip through the neighborhood was supposed to be to feed the ducks in the large pond.  Carrie started crying because she smeared sunscreen in her eye, and the only thing that kept her from rubbing it more was to stop, pick her up, and sit down in the wagon holding her while Devon met the Muscovy ducks.  At this point, the girls started clawing at the bag of duck bread on my arm.  Despairing of ever making it to the pond, I passed some out and we all munched old, dry bread in the street three houses down from ours.  We must have been quite an eyeful for our neighbors, several of whom drove by, staring.

We've had a few successful playdates and one trip to a friend's house to meet their goats. Quote of the morning: "They're sucking on my toes!"

Daddy spent four days in Naples on the gulf side, so Mommy got to spend some sleepy time with her girlies.

The girls are looking more and more alike these days.  They're used to the side ponytails that have to be in so they can see.  In one more week it'll be time for cake!