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At what age do kids learn to fake it?

O.K. so far today I managed to get the kids up, fed, dressed and given her supplements. I even got her on the school bus without having to spend too much time out in the wind. Since I put her on the bus I’ve done a load of laundry, vacuumed up most of the floor that wasn’t too big of a fight with toys and am almost done putting the Christmas tree up for her.

In my need for getting more done in a short amount of time I boiled my noodles while I was putting the tree together. I’m eating breakfast as I write this out in my word processor so that’s a simple copy and paste later today when I find the time to post it. If I’m not mistaken I get to go to the grocery store tomorrow in between appointments. First thing in the morning we have an appointment then in the afternoon we have therapy. It’s just going to get colder as the day goes on so I hope to grab a few groceries in between.

At the moment I would be watching “Flirting with forty” as I eat my breakfast and write this. Sadly enough in a few years I’ll be there and I’m closer than I like now. I have a birthday coming up in February. I don’t bother with wishes for Christmas or birthdays’ anymore; haven’t in years. I find them to be pointless as they never seem to come true unless you’re a bright eyed kid that still believes in the magic that’s supposed to be Christmas.

Personally I find Christmas to be a rather annoying holiday as the commercial feel increases. Well, I lost that thought because half way through my phone rang. It was Mrs. Heather, Theresa’s preschool teacher. She thought Theresa was constipated but she wasn’t sure. So I went to get my baby. I signed her out in the office and went toward her classroom.

On the way I saw Ms. Ward, the speech therapist for the school. Theresa had sat in her lap with her head on her shoulder not participating during therapy this morning. Theresa was also crying. No one at the school had ever seen her cry before and they were worried. Now I should mention that before I left to get her I wrote down the numbers to the clinic where her afternoon speech appointment was scheduled just in case we needed to go to the doctor. If she wasn’t feeling well she wouldn’t get anything done in therapy anyway and someone else that needed it could have her spot.

Well, Theresa got upset when she realized I was there to get her and tried to get me to go home in that frustrated toddler way she has. You know the tugging and shoving while telling you that she’ll see you later. Poor thing thought she was in trouble having to leave school a whole hour early. Finally convinced her that she wasn’t in trouble and got her coat on. She yelled “bye-bye, see you later” all the way down the hall.

We drove home in silence except for the radio and my assuring her once again she wasn’t in trouble. When we pulled in the driveway I gather up her book bag and threw my wallet in it before I got her out and wrapped my coat around her to keep the cold away. She was bright eyed. We got inside and the first thing she saw was the Christmas tree that I’d put up this morning after I put her on the school bus. She went so far into her own world that she didn’t hear me ask if she wanted to take her shoes off and take a bath.
Well, daddy took her shoes off and sent her to the bathroom where I was running her water and adding the Epsom salt to help with the constipation. The plot thickens; she pulled all her toys into the tub while I tried to bathe her and was happily playing as I washed her hair. I let her sit in the tub for a while to let the Epsom salt soak into her skin. When I got her out as I was drying her off she told me what clothes she needed and that she wanted to “eat pop tart” I told her we didn’t have any and asked if she wanted toast. I had also asked her if she wanted juice and she told me milk. OK I’m drying her hair and she runs off to find a toy.

She got her toast and juice which she ate fine. Well, after she got upset because the pair of training pants I put on her leaked in the floor. I put extra protection in them once I got her off the potty and changed. Since then she’s watched and episode of Caillou and is watching her second Scooby Doo. She’s smiling until you look directly at her. At the moment she’s laying on the couch bright eyed and looking a bit tired. I think she wants a nap.

I also think that my innocent looking baby just sucked me into an afternoon of cartoons. Exactly what age do they learn to fake sick again? She’s a smart little kid, it wouldn’t be surprising. We’re going to wait and see if she has to go to the doctor. We’ll give it a day and do everything they’ll ask about first then we’ll go to our morning appointment, squeeze in the doctor if need be, grab a few groceries and then take her to speech because two days in a row of missing it will make her mad.

OK I’m off to check on my not so sick, sick baby. I may just try to get some work done since we don’t have speech. First the dishes are calling me rather loudly.
O.K. so far today I managed to get the kids up, fed, dressed and given her supplements. I even got her on the school bus without having to spend too much time out in the wind. Since I put her on the bus I’ve done a load of laundry, vacuumed up most of the floor that wasn’t too big of a fight with toys and am almost done putting the Christmas tree up for her.

In my need for getting more done in a short amount of time I boiled my noodles while I was putting the tree together. I’m eating breakfast as I write this out in my word processor so that’s a simple copy and paste later today when I find the time to post it. If I’m not mistaken I get to go to the grocery store tomorrow in between appointments. First thing in the morning we have an appointment then in the afternoon we have therapy. It’s just going to get colder as the day goes on so I hope to grab a few groceries in between.

At the moment I would be watching “Flirting with forty” as I eat my breakfast and write this. Sadly enough in a few years I’ll be there and I’m closer than I like now. I have a birthday coming up in February. I don’t bother with wishes for Christmas or birthdays’ anymore; haven’t in years. I find them to be pointless as they never seem to come true unless you’re a bright eyed kid that still believes in the magic that’s supposed to be Christmas.

Personally I find Christmas to be a rather annoying holiday as the commercial feel increases. Well, I lost that thought because half way through my phone rang. It was Mrs. Heather, Theresa’s preschool teacher. She thought Theresa was constipated but she wasn’t sure. So I went to get my baby. I signed her out in the office and went toward her classroom.

On the way I saw Ms. Ward, the speech therapist for the school. Theresa had sat in her lap with her head on her shoulder not participating during therapy this morning. Theresa was also crying. No one at the school had ever seen her cry before and they were worried. Now I should mention that before I left to get her I wrote down the numbers to the clinic where her afternoon speech appointment was scheduled just in case we needed to go to the doctor. If she wasn’t feeling well she wouldn’t get anything done in therapy anyway and someone else that needed it could have her spot.

Well, Theresa got upset when she realized I was there to get her and tried to get me to go home in that frustrated toddler way she has. You know the tugging and shoving while telling you that she’ll see you later. Poor thing thought she was in trouble having to leave school a whole hour early. Finally convinced her that she wasn’t in trouble and got her coat on. She yelled “bye-bye, see you later” all the way down the hall.

We drove home in silence except for the radio and my assuring her once again she wasn’t in trouble. When we pulled in the driveway I gather up her book bag and threw my wallet in it before I got her out and wrapped my coat around her to keep the cold away. She was bright eyed. We got inside and the first thing she saw was the Christmas tree that I’d put up this morning after I put her on the school bus. She went so far into her own world that she didn’t hear me ask if she wanted to take her shoes off and take a bath.

Well, daddy took her shoes off and sent her to the bathroom where I was running her water and adding the Epsom salt to help with the constipation. The plot thickens; she pulled all her toys into the tub while I tried to bathe her and was happily playing as I washed her hair. I let her sit in the tub for a while to let the Epsom salt soak into her skin. When I got her out as I was drying her off she told me what clothes she needed and that she wanted to “eat pop tart” I told her we didn’t have any and asked if she wanted toast. I had also asked her if she wanted juice and she told me milk. OK I’m drying her hair and she runs off to find a toy.

She got her toast and juice which she ate fine. Well, after she got upset because the pair of training pants I put on her leaked in the floor. I put extra protection in them once I got her off the potty and changed. Since then she’s watched and episode of Caillou and is watching her second Scooby Doo. She’s smiling until you look directly at her. At the moment she’s laying on the couch bright eyed and looking a bit tired. I think she wants a nap.

I also think that my innocent looking baby just sucked me into an afternoon of cartoons. Exactly what age do they learn to fake sick again? She’s a smart little kid, it wouldn’t be surprising. We’re going to wait and see if she has to go to the doctor. We’ll give it a day and do everything they’ll ask about first then we’ll go to our morning appointment, squeeze in the doctor if need be, grab a few groceries and then take her to speech because two days in a row of missing it will make her mad.

OK I’m off to check on my not so sick, sick baby. I may just try to get some work done since we don’t have speech. First the dishes are calling me rather loudly.
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