Go OU!

Reagan already knows where her loyalties should be...

My Daughter, the Personal Trainer Part One

From the beginning, Reagan has been concerned about my health and she's made it her business to keep me in shape. I sincerely appreciate her efforts and thought I'd share a few of them with you in case you'd like to implement them in your own training.

Reagan never misses an opportunity to deny me the sinful pleasure of eating. She knows I need help refusing the temptation of a meal every 5 or 6 hours, and she's there for me, bless her little heart. Just as I sit down to enjoy a few moments of culinary satisfaction and perhaps a niblet or two of adult conversation with my beloved, Reagan pulls the rug out from under me. If she's in her high chair, mid-meal, she suddenly needs "more" of something and alternately signs and squeals for it. Or she coughs/chokes on something. Or her sippy cup takes a suicide dive to the floor. Sometimes when she sees these distractions aren't having the effect she's going for, she cries to be released from her tower prison. Once on the floor, she rushes to my chair and looks up at me with the best puppy dog eyes she can muster. She holds her hands in the air and motions for me to pick her up. She clings to my legs, desperate to distract me from my fork. If I put her in my lap, hoping to calm her and therefore, get to eat, she lunges for the plate with all her might, grabbing and pushing for anything in sight. She knows her mission and she takes it seriously: stop Mom from eating at all costs.

I find myself standing up eating bread crusts, drinking apple juice while she gobbles pear chunks off her tray. I don't make eye contact for fear she'll remember I'm not supposed to eat. I open the fridge door and nosh down whatever I can behind its protective barrier. I hunch down to a lower cabinet, pretending to retrieve a pot or pan, all the while cramming pepperoni into my mouth. Reagan strains in her high chair. She knows something is going on. She arches her back, puts her feet on the step and stands as much as she can, craning her neck so she can see whether I'm really preparing her precious peas or am actually woofing down a sandwich.

I'm not sure how long this stage of "Pay attention to me NOW. Put the food down and no one will get hurt" lasts. Other people have kids and I've seen them eat. Perhaps their children just don't love them as much as Reagan loves me. Perhaps they don't care if their parents are obese but my angel does. Reagan wants me to be a size 4 and isn't letting anyone or anything stand in her way.

A Plague Update

Reagan is on the upswing! We took her back to the doctor Saturday where he promptly put her on two more medications including one administered by a breathing machine. You can imagine how much Reagan enjoys the breathing machine! We put on Baby Einstein to lull her into submission and pray for the best. She was smiling yesterday, more herself than she's been since Friday. Hooray!

Thank you so very much for praying for Reagan. We really appreciate it. She's been sick before but didn't show as many outward signs of it, I guess. This really freaked us out and had me bargaining with God over just giving the sickness to me and not her. She was downright pathetic. We're used to feisty and adorable. We don't do pathetic.

Pray for our Sick Girl

We'd really appreciate your prayers for Reagan. She has an infection in both ears and is all drugged up on amoxicillian. I thought we'd see signs of improvement after 4 days of antibiotics but if anything, she's worse. Her cough is juicy. Her lungs are full. She's clingy and actually ran a fever for the first time since this started. Anyway, please ask God to help us know what to do, how to help our sweet angel and please ask Him to heal her so she can enjoy this lovely fall and go out for Halloween, etc.

Thank you so much!

Happy Birthday to me all year long!

So yesterday I turned 31. It was a lovely day and the party continues today because our best friends are coming over for some fun. However, I just spent the whole day thinking about LAST year at this time.

Last year when I turned 30, we whooped it up. I'd been waiting so long to AGE, for the love! China wouldn't let us come get Reagan until we were both 30 and Danny kindly hit that milestone 2 years ago. Our dossier was sent via Fed Ex October 13, 2006 and was delivered to the CCAA on my birthday, October 15, 2006. Nothing else mattered. We were DTC!!

Now, I love presents. No way can I deny that. I made a list, passed it out to family and friends and waited for the loot to pour in. However, yesterday even as I accepted wonderful gifts, I kept thinking, "Gee. What I really want to do right now is play with Reagan." When people asked, "Big plans for your birthday?" I answered honestly that we were just staying home to be with our girl. In a bizarre twist of events, I attended the KC Ballet alone on Saturday. We have season tickets. I am in to the ballet and Danny goes along because he's in to me. I had a fabulous time and sat in Danny's seat (he's not getting it back, it's better than mine). However, I called Danny at intermission so I could be updated on what Reagan had experienced in the whopping 60 minutes since I'd left her.

So I guess all of this is to say, every day is my birthday now that we have Reagan. I know so many of you are still waiting and my heart aches for you. Believe me, I know the pain and the frustration and the anxiety. At the end of the road for you is good stuff. Trust me on this.

Who needs a pro?

I'm starting to think we're never going to a professional photographer again. Look at the darling photos Danny took of Reagan in literally 10 minutes of fun in our front yard. We just put her down and let her go to town. Of course, in a studio, we probably wouldn't have to stop her from eating rocks...

http://www.flickr.com/photos/84389878@N00/tags/reagan/

These Boots Were Made for Walking...

I don't write on the blog often enough and I know it but I have a reason, people!

Reagan knows how to walk. She's been on the move for a couple of weeks now. She prefers walking to all other modes of transport. I'm constantly impressed with her ability to turn into a noodle right there in my arms. She slips down the front or side of my body, wiggling the entire time until her feet hit the floor and then she's off. I've literally started sleeping in my tennis shoes so I can keep up with her from the instant she wakes up in the morning.

On the weekends, if she gets too far ahead of me, I scream out desperately to Danny who pops up to continue the chase while I collapse on the floor, gasping for air and drooling just a little bit. During the week, I'm on my own. Obviously, this leaves no time for blogging about Reagan. Who has time to write when the computer is a mere blur of technology as we scamper by in hot pursuit of the cat or a ball or something I can't see but which Reagan can't stop pointing to or squealing about?

I'm a shell of my former self. The cats are more neurotic than ever (and that's saying something if you know our Psalms and Autumn). We've managed to childproof the kitchen and one bathroom but we doubt these pathetic bits of plastic will stop Reagan for long. She holds on to the cabinet doors and shakes them like she's The Incredible Hulk. Yesterday, she was quiet for more than 20 seconds which means I've dropped the ball and she's either hanging off the edge of something or drinking poison. I whipped around only to find her staring intently at my hands. I'd been pushing the plastic doo-hickey down so I could access the cabinet. And she knows how I did it. I could literally see her mind working it all out.

Currently, she's taking a pre-church nap and I need to take a shower. I just wanted to check in with you, to let you know we are alive but just barely. I can't believe we actually encouraged her to learn this new skill. What in the world were we thinking?!

For Your Viewing Pleasure...

Check out our Flickr page for new pictures of Reagan and her friend, Jackson. I've included photos of Reagan's lovely morning hairstyle as well as some of the two of them running around in their silky Chinese outfits.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/84389878@N00/?saved=1