Stomach Bugs

Since the Lilibug left the hospital in December, 2010, she’s only been sick a couple of times. Last night, she decided she’d see what she’d been missing, and succumbed to a stomach bug. About 8:30 her dad Josh called for help and Lillian’s grandfather drove over to Josh and Lili’s apartment. The evidence of illness was scattered throughout the kitchen and living room (none of the delicate little barfs of baby days for two year olds!) and dad and daughter had stripped off their sodden clothes and were sitting on a towel with a bowl and a barf rag.

Grandpa took over holding duties while dad put on some barf-free clothes and started to clean up. Poor Lili was not done, and continued to barf every five minutes or so, fortunately in progressively lower volume as the evening went on. Lili took another bath and went to bed. Grandpa stayed to hold bowl and barf rag and Lilz was sick off and on until 3 in the morning. Josh spent an hour cleaning and disinfecting, then washed a large load of clothes and towels.

Lillian got a delicious breakfast of grape Pedialyte, which so far has stayed down. She’s running a bit of a fever, so she is going to stay at home today. And she’s now running from the other end.

But her grandfather got a reward this morning: Lillian pointed to him and said “grandpa”.

Chin Ups

We’re not sure whether Lillian plans to be the first female home run champ, or a body builder or whether she is just going to join the Marines, but she spends a lot of time working on her upper body strength.

So far as we know, she has not yet started watching Arnold Schwarzenegger movies, so there is still hope for her.

Afternoon Musings: A Video

Lillian climbed to the top of the play structure built for her uncle Richard twenty years ago, and offered these meditations for the edification of all and sundry.

Climbing the Net

The last time Lillian and I went to the fire truck park over in Southside Place, she struggled on the climbing net. Today she went right at it as if she’d been doing it her whole life (all two years and five months of it). And today, she was full of words: she brought the dog bowls to me: “one bowl,” she said as she handed me the first, “t-bowls,” as she handed me the second. She pointed to her toes and said “toes”. She pointed to another kid in the park and said “little boy”. And there were more, though I am not a deft enough listener to catch them all.

Monday Snacking

Lillian spends a lot of time around her great-grandmother’s house with her grandfather (there are interesting similarities in taking care of 2 year olds and 82 year olds, though 2 year olds are faster — a lot faster). In that house are two dogs of the African basenji breed (basenji means “dog from hell” in one of the languages of central Africa, I think). Whenever there will be no humans In the house, these dogs must be coaxed outside, so they receive dog treats as a bribe. Lillian has studied this, and learned: now she expects a treat when leaving the house, too. Popcorn and crackers are favorites, though Jelly Bellys are preferred.

Rites of Two-Year Olds

Two-year olds are strange creatures, practicing odd rites and making offerings in unusual currencies. Yesterday, Lillian paid homage to a fountain; today she left small presents of playground bark on the tail of a concrete whale. She brings gifts of rocks to grace dog bowls, and collections of acorns to adorn flower beds. She chants quiet hymns in a tongue that is almost, but not quite, intelligible to older ears. She preaches to dogs and squirrels and birds: some flee in terror at the stern tone of her declamations. I, her acolyte, am commanded to follow where she leads and to lift her up when the need arises; and I do.

Water Worship

at the Russ Pitman Nature Center in Bellaire. Lillian really likes water.

Thrill-Seeker

Lillian and I visited another park today, just up the street from her house — Karl Young Park — lots of fun stuff to climb and swing on, a big sand pit and these cool dirt bike rides that captured Lilz’s imagination.

Tree Climbing

Lillian, who is reasonably sure that she is part monkey or other climbing creature, has a favorite tree. She can’t get where she wants on her own, so she has her grandfather lend a supporting hand to her back-side. When she is up there, she shares the gossip of the day with the squirrels, cardinals and blue jays.

Her vocabulary continues to grow; when she gives you something, she’ll say: “Here ya go.” However, when she wants something from you, she’ll still just pull you by the sleeve and point.

Potty training continues in fits and starts; we’ve even had some successes (mostly a matter of luck), but with a nice supply of books handy she doesn’t mind sitting on the throne for a while. Of course, this means that once she’s trained, no one else is going to be able to get into the bathroom.

Ears or Handles?

You may call them ears: Lilz calls them handles (not a real rabbit, in case you can’t tell).