Wordless Wednesday: Stand Out From the Crowd

Sophia was sent to bed at eight…
*Thump* *padda padda padda* *Click* I heard her get out of bed, run across the room, and turn on the light. For a short time she played with toys, and then she went a step further…I heard the door open. I waited and could hear her just standing there for minutes, then she leaned forward and saw me. She smiled until I told her “back to bed”. I’ve never seen a smile disappear so fast. I made her so sad. I tend to do that A LOT!

That was ten days ago. Now she seems to fall asleep quickly but then wake up just before five thirty every morning in anticipation of Kurt’s alarm clock. She goes back to sleep around seven and will sleep until ten thirty if I let her. Sometimes I do just that. It’s nice to get a few things done in the morning without having to dance around her, or I’ll just sleep in myself.

The cage was torn down, but invisible walls held her. Soon she realized she could leave at will. She came and went, bringing things back into the once prison. She fell asleep and in the night cried out with discomfort still half-asleep.

I peeked in and took the books and toys out of her bed.

The story behind the 55: As of Wednesday morning Sophia figured out she can leave her toddler bed when she wants. She had toys in her bed that morning, and Wednesday night she must have grabbed some books and toys before falling asleep because she half-woke up in the middle of the night crying with a book corner poking her cheek. Thursday morning I opened her door and caught a glimpse of her climbing back into her bed, which already had toys on it again. Silly kid thinks she’s all sneaky.

Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man. You may also visit Flash Fiction Friday 55′s, a blog dedicated to hosting 55 Flash Fiction Friday posts.

Until a few weeks ago, naps and bedtimes were no big deal. We went though the routines for each and Sophia knew what to expect and what was expected. Then suddenly along with diaper changes before it, naps became a struggle with kicking legs, running off, and general squirminess. I began carrying her to the crib like a kicking and screaming football, standing back up as I ran out of the room. She would pitch a fit in her crib for about ten minutes and then lay down and talk to her stuffed animals. More than half the time she would fall asleep within thirty minutes, but the struggles beforehand were exhausting for me. So what did I finally do about it? I set her free of course.

Friday I finally took down the side of the crib and replaced it with the board that turns it into a toddler bed. Sophia of course ‘helped’ me. She kept track of the screws and handed them to me as I needed them. The ones I didn’t need right away she tried pushing into the empty holes and blocked me from being able to align the board. Her ‘help’ really made the transformation about twice as long as necessary, but she was happy about the whole thing. She took her fist nap in her toddler bed on Friday without any problems. She happily crawled right into bed. Thanks to my aunt I even have a way to ensure Sophia won’t roll out of bed. My aunt made Sophia a twin-size baby quilt. I have it folded in half, put Sophia in the quilt sandwich with the fold on the outside, and tuck in the two loose edges on the opposite side.

We used to leave Bear, Moose, and Friend in her crib all day unless she requested them. We actually forced her to request each by name, “a Bow”, “en Moose”, “en Fend-EE”. Sometimes she was in such a bad mood that she didn’t want to say anything, but needed them for comfort so she used signs for the two that we know, Bear and Friend. On one occasion, two months ago, she became so angry with me for forcing her to say or sign for her comfort items that she decided to get whichever ones she could reach. Bear was close to the side, so with one hand she reached in, grabbed him, and lifted him to the top of the crib bars. With her other hand she reached over the top and removed him from her first hand. She glared at me as if to say, “This! This is what I want. Now get me my other stuff. Chop Chop!” I was thoroughly impressed with her problem solving skills, but not so much with the lack of speech. She finally had to break down and request the other items. On Saturday after the cage came down, she asked for her friends by name, and I told her she could get them all herself now. “OH!” She said.

The past two mornings I’ve heard the sounds of a waking toddler and waited a few minutes to see if she would come out of her room on her own. After a few more minutes, I open her door to see she’s sitting up still in bed. It seems that, at least for now, she needs our permission to leave her invisible confines.

In January’s consumer reports, my husband read that none of Honda’s vehicles rate well for road noise reduction. I noticed that in our Civic, but I tell you what it does a hell of a job blocking toddler screams. It reduced that noise at least 80% and I didn’t even mind standing in the rain.

The story behind the 55: A month or month and a half ago Kurt read the Honda ratings to me from Consumer Reports and a couple days later I thought of it when Sophia pitched a fit while I tried to get her in her car seat. I finally got her strapped down and then closed the door. I noticed a huge reduction in noise. Standing in the parking lot of a store, I just relaxed out in the rain for a minute before getting in.

Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man. You may also visit Flash Fiction Friday 55′s, a blog dedicated to hosting 55 Flash Fiction Friday posts.

I can’t remember what the chaos was all about. I think Sophia had just woken from her nap. She is often very grumpy after a nap even if she wakes on her own. She had a melt down, a tantrum, so bad that Kurt and I just looked at each other knowingly. This was going to be a long few hours before bedtime. She screamed and cried stomping her feet with tears streaming down her face. Inconsolable for quite a while, Sophia finally calmed down sitting in my lap. We were on the couch, and she sucked her thumb with friend, moose, and bear. All was quiet for a moment and then the cat let out a loud whiny, “MEOW”. Sophia pulled her thumb out of her mouth and put her finger to her lips, “SSssshhh”.

My dogs are killers. They’re fine around people, even kids, but rodents and other small fidgety things be warned. I’d never allow Chelan around an infant because of how prey-like their movements are, and Petie doesn’t seem to like toddlers these days. He snaps when Sophia gets too close, even if all she did was trip and look like she was about to fall on him. The poor dog must be getting sore. He was never this way in the past. He knows better.

Petie is fourteen years old this month. I got him from a breeder when he was just five weeks old. I counted the weeks back from when I picked him up and figure his birthday was around the 6th. He has arthritis and has been on an anti-inflammatory, that I generally refer to as liquid gold, since he was about eight or nine years old. Last year the vet gave me a pill to help him on his ‘really bad’ days. I just gave him a dose of it for the first time a couple weeks ago. I may give a half dose next time. The pills are an opiate and once they kicked in he laid in the same spot, in the same position, for H-O-U-R-S. I would guess about seventeen hours. I hope it was a good trip.

Chelan turned eleven years old this month. She’s a pound puppy. I picked her up when she was about six months old and again, I counted back, and March is her approximate birth month. She was either born with hip dysplasia or just bowlegged. Either way, she has always walked like John Wayne, but doesn’t seem to be in any pain because of it. Chelan was diagnosed with cancer in May of this year. I was told that if we didn’t do surgery put her through chemotherapy she would die in about two months. We chose not to do it and instead give her pills to stimulate her appetite. It’s been ten months and she’s still doing well. Both dogs are doing extremely well given their breeds, ages, and medial conditions. They’re doing a little too well.

Four months after Chelan was diagnosed with cancer I watched her from our kitchen window as she leaped into the air about five feet to catch a squirrel in a mid-air leap from a cedar to the lower edge of the roof on the shed. I was thoroughly impressed. Not proud mind you, just impressed. That’s quite a feat even for a healthy dog. Out the back door I ran to retrieve the squirrel carcass which had now passed to the mouth of the other dog, Petie. I double bagged it and put it in the garbage. I sort of like that I was able to get it “fresh” because I really hate finding maggot ridden carcasses of their uneaten kills.

I told Kurt about our killer striking again, and the two of us continued to watch out the back windows as the squirrel’s partner told the dogs a thing or two. “Eee eee eee eee” It was like he was shaking his finger at them, and they just stood there waiting for him to get low enough. That damn squirrel wouldn’t let up and I was afraid I would soon have another carcass to collect. I’ve never known rodents to be quite so attached to each other. I went back to the garbage and laid the first squirrel in a part of the yard that the dogs couldn’t reach and hoped that it’s retarded partner would see it, do his mourning, and then get the hell out. We pictured a circle of squirrels with little black hats held over their hearts peering down at their fallen friend.

I had to leave for some appointment, but Kurt watched to see what would happen. The still live squirrel saw his buddy and carried it across the fence and up a cedar tree. Both dogs watched enthusiastically. The live squirrel then dropped his friend on the dogs like it was a bomb, only it landed in a dog mouth and never detonated. Kurt then had to retrieve the carcass from a dog mouth for the second time.

I took Chelan into the vet a couple of months after that for her check up and vaccines. I was informed that with her age and health that vaccines were not advised. My concern was of course having a rabid cancer patient, but good news, rabies is very low in the squirrel population of this area. The vet was equally impressed with Chelan’s feats but not overly surprised. Huskies are extremely prey driven and prolific killers. Funny that when you look up info on a breed that little tid-bit never comes up.

I was reminded of this again last night when I saw Petie poking around in the grass. I thought he was just eating some grass. I was wrong. He look up at me with something in his mouth. He had captured either a field mouse or a mole. I couldn’t tell from the little feet wiggling in his mouth. I ran out as if I was going to retrieve it from him without any gloves or even a plastic bag, but I was too late anyway. Petie put the critter’s little legs between his enormous snowshoe paws and pulled. MYGOD the innards of those things are stretchy. I’ve seen a lot of feathers in the yard lately, yes they kill birds too, with no carcasses associated with them. I hoped that it was merely from birds molting, but this made me think the dogs might actually be eating their kills now. The viscera of this current kill were now a single red rubber band that snapped up. I think I puked in my mouth a little bit.

I know you wanted to know which end that string would go. You wouldn’t be able to sleep properly without that detailed knowledge, admit it. Would you like a doggy kiss? I’m sure Petie would oblige. Just be glad I didn’t take pictures.

How is this for a Morbid Monday Hallie?

My mother-in-law called to ask asked, “You know all those internet acronyms like L.O.L., right?”
“Yes I do.”
“Well, a friend of mine got a message and wants to know what M.I.L.F is.”
I about died laughing. Unsure of laughter as a response she asked, “Is it a complement?” She was shocked by the answer.

The story behind the 55: My mother-in-law really did ask me this on behalf of a friend of hers. Yes, dear you’re now blog fodder. *hugs* Love you! Happy birthday yesterday.

Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man. You may also visit Flash Fiction Friday 55′s, a blog dedicated to hosting 55 Flash Fiction Friday posts.