Merchandizing! Merchandizing!

There is a reason that we choose to keep the TV channels tuned to Nick Jr and Disney Jr - they don't have commercials. I'd rather not have the kids sold to while just relaxing after school so even though the likes of Peppa Pig and Dora the Explorer make me want to gouge my eyes out, I'll tolerate it as background noise. A trade-off of sorts: inane shows for no marketing.

"Mommy, is there really a Sparkle Fairy?"

Well, it was a trade off. But now, they've started airing commercials. Mostly cleaning products (?) with the occasional toy ad. And only between shows but dammit, they're screwing with my peace. I get that the late night programming has been changed to be more parent-friendly so fine, show ads then. Though if it instills a desire in them to clean then so be it. It's as if they expect parents to watch this drivel with the kids rather than using it as it's intended: a babysitter so I can eat and go to the bathroom uninterrupted.

"Wow Mommy! The Kaboom works really well!"

Okay, yes, it's an opportunity to start a dialogue with them about the purpose of advertisements, that they rarely work as magically well as the commercials make them appear. That the job of the ads is to convince us to buy their products and our job is to be savvy consumers and vet the claims carefully. It's a conversation that's ongoing and evolving and Noelle seems to be taking this in; at least, she'll ask if the ads are truthful after each one.

"I have a lame phone, I want a cool phone."

Oh, shit.

It had to happen sometime

Our unprecedented run of health-related good luck has come to a screeching halt.  Noelle has had a decent fever since yesterday prompting a cancellation of pools plans for Saturday and potentially derailing a special sleep-over/zoo trip at Grandmom Yvonne and Granddad's house tomorrow.  I say unprecedented because she has not been sick since her first year of life where pink eye and diarrhea were the norm. And one episode of RSV that required a trip to the pediatric ER for a nebulizer but we don't really count that one. But she isn't complaining mostly because she has been able to watch a ridiculous amount of TV and movies the past two days.  What else do you do with a preschooler who is running a fever but can't read to herself?  She plays with her toys (it was soccer and baseball this morning.  Yes, in the house.  I know.) until the Motrin wears off and her eyes start looking glassy.  And to top it off, it is a beautiful weekend that should be spent outdoors.

But she doesn't complain.  It's amazing given that she got a new bike.  A big girl bike that Dada put together this week and she has been chomping at the bit to get outside and practice so she can ride bikes with her friend Nico who also has a big boy bike.  Her bike is pink with Disney Princesses on it.  It has sparkly tassels and a 'purse' on the front she can put things in; in fact it is already full.  She has her bike helmet and has been practicing getting onto and off of the bike by herself.  She wants to go outside in the worst way.  But she can't.  Or rather, we won't let her.  It's amazing she doesn't complain even though we can to cancel plans to go to our best friends' pool so she could swim and splash around.  She wanted to play with her friend; she was really looking forward to it and it made me sad to tell her that she couldn't go.  But she didn't complain.  Not in the slightest. 

She is such a good girl even when she isn't feeling well.  She lets me take her temperature without fuss.  Okay, without fuss after the first time yesterday when her fever first spiked and she didn't want anything to do with the thermometer or the Motrin.  But the subsequent times, she pulled her arm out of her sleeve and let me get the readings.  She takes her medicine wonderfully though I'm sure that it doesn't hurt that it tastes like bubblegum.  So my poor baby is sick.  Just a fever and nothing else to do but ride it out. 

All we can do is monitor it and hope that she feels well enough for her special day with her grandparents.  But if not, then we reschedule.  Nothing else to do but that.  Though it hurts to see her propped up in our bed, so tiny and vulnerable under the covers, my heart swells with love looking at her knowing that, for a short time at least, she's counting on me to make everything better.  It's the crux of parenthood; the delight and the despair:  the gift and burden of  absolute trust our children have in us which is simultaneously gratifying and terrifying.  I'll always do my best to be worthy of your trust sweet pea, I promise.