I had a whole roster of activities planned for our first week of real life (without guests) in Dover: Monday, playgroup; Tuesday, Crafty Kids; Wednesday, gymnastics; Thursday, Library Story Hour, then leaving for our weekend trip to Montreal. Tuesday night, though, and it all changed.
When Anissa woke up around 1:30 a.m., I could hear the strange choking sounds all the way from our room. I ran to get her and discovered her gasping for breath to the point that she could barely cry out for us. Adrenalin kicked in, of course. All I could think was "asthma attack!", because I suffered enough of those as a kid. So I knew what to do. I ran downstairs (yelling at Mehdi to get dressed, that we were going to Emergency) and opened all the windows, getting her to breath in the fresh, cool air. Once she was able to get some oxygen, she began to cough and I realized this was no asthma attack: she was barking that seal-llike cough I've heard about. CROUP!
By the time we got to the hospital (thankfully only a minute's drive away), Anissa was sleepy but breathing just fine. And by the time we got the see the doctor, she was thinking that this was one cool dream. She got to see all the tools from her favorite toy, her doctor's kit, but real and in action. She got stickers. And, to make it all the more pleasant, our doctor was a Canuck from P.E.I., so Mehdi and I got treated to a nice maritimer's accent and some chitchat about "back home". A good time was had by all.
Oh, and yes, Anissa has croup. The first case of the season seen in these parts. It's a pretty common childhood illness, and usually nothing to worry about. She's been doing fine since. It is, however, highly contagious. So our activities have been cancelled and instead we're hanging out at home. Anissa doesn't seem to mind. In fact, there's only one thing she keeps asking to do again "next week"...
A trip to see the doctor!
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Love is in the air
We never talk to Anissa about the idea of husbands or boyfriends or any of that romance business, which is why one of her evening's conversations with Papa was especially surprising :
Anissa: When Anissa's bigger, I wanna have a boy.
Mehdi: Oh, you want to be a mommy and have a baby boy?
Anissa: No! When I bigger, I wanna have a Papa boy. A boy like Papa!
One thing's for sure: the girl's got great taste!
Anissa: When Anissa's bigger, I wanna have a boy.
Mehdi: Oh, you want to be a mommy and have a baby boy?
Anissa: No! When I bigger, I wanna have a Papa boy. A boy like Papa!
One thing's for sure: the girl's got great taste!
Friday, September 16, 2005
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Falling in love again and again
I don't have any story to tell, but I thought I'd share some of the adorable things our daughter has been saying and doing lately. I may have said this at every other stage of her development, but I honestly think this age is the best. A few reasons why:
Her imagination. She loves to play that she is someone else (a policewoman riding a horse, like the mounted police here in town; a monster, usually a Gagawa from a French book; a mommy saying "It's OK" to a crying baby; a cashier) and of course insists everyone else play along. In fact, I sometimes feel I hardly see my daughter these days and am instead spending time with a host of interesting characters. She can get so into her play that she's oblivious to what is going on around her, such as the time when I was trying to buy a bus ticket at the counter and she (in my arms) was insisting that I pretend I was a dog. I nearly barked and panted just to get her to stop yelling. Other times, like when I went to take a sip of "tea" that came from the bathtub, she firmly reminded me that it's only pretend (and, in that case, that I was about to drink "bum soup", what we call bath water). Most of the time, she is brutally honest (announcing "I'm pooping! Holy! Big poo!", no matter where she is in public) but other times she likes to entertain with a little exaggeration - like her Mommy. After a uneventful boat cruise with my parents on the weekend, during which we saw a few seals poke their heads out of the water, she told Mama Jo on the phone that we had seen a shark!
I have a question for Mama Jo: is Anissa's report of what you do at work true? Anissa has spent some time at her grandma's office, and recently told us that Mama Jo's job involves looking at pictures of Anissa all day and eating chocolat! Hmmmm.
Her sweet, loving nature. She gives compliments: "Wow, Papa. Your shirt! I like it." She tells us she loves us. When someone seems upset, she gently tells them, "It's OK". Last night, as I was holding her hands to walk down the stairs she turned, grabbed my face and said, "Oh, Mama. Your brown eyes are so nice. So nice!". Forget that I was wearing sweatpants and one of her hairclips pulling back my bangs - I felt like the most beautiful woman on earth!
Her smarts - street and otherwise. She's good at puzzles, she's strong and can kick a soccer ball better than I can, she can count to 10 in English, Arabic and French. She corrects Mehdi's English and my attempts at Arabic (in fact, she outright laughs at those). But she's also got street smarts; she can stare down any stranger with a look I know will come back to haunt us in her teenage years. There's no messing with this girl.
Thanks for indulging my need to brag up our little rascal. I'll save some for another time!
Her imagination. She loves to play that she is someone else (a policewoman riding a horse, like the mounted police here in town; a monster, usually a Gagawa from a French book; a mommy saying "It's OK" to a crying baby; a cashier) and of course insists everyone else play along. In fact, I sometimes feel I hardly see my daughter these days and am instead spending time with a host of interesting characters. She can get so into her play that she's oblivious to what is going on around her, such as the time when I was trying to buy a bus ticket at the counter and she (in my arms) was insisting that I pretend I was a dog. I nearly barked and panted just to get her to stop yelling. Other times, like when I went to take a sip of "tea" that came from the bathtub, she firmly reminded me that it's only pretend (and, in that case, that I was about to drink "bum soup", what we call bath water). Most of the time, she is brutally honest (announcing "I'm pooping! Holy! Big poo!", no matter where she is in public) but other times she likes to entertain with a little exaggeration - like her Mommy. After a uneventful boat cruise with my parents on the weekend, during which we saw a few seals poke their heads out of the water, she told Mama Jo on the phone that we had seen a shark!
I have a question for Mama Jo: is Anissa's report of what you do at work true? Anissa has spent some time at her grandma's office, and recently told us that Mama Jo's job involves looking at pictures of Anissa all day and eating chocolat! Hmmmm.
Her sweet, loving nature. She gives compliments: "Wow, Papa. Your shirt! I like it." She tells us she loves us. When someone seems upset, she gently tells them, "It's OK". Last night, as I was holding her hands to walk down the stairs she turned, grabbed my face and said, "Oh, Mama. Your brown eyes are so nice. So nice!". Forget that I was wearing sweatpants and one of her hairclips pulling back my bangs - I felt like the most beautiful woman on earth!
Her smarts - street and otherwise. She's good at puzzles, she's strong and can kick a soccer ball better than I can, she can count to 10 in English, Arabic and French. She corrects Mehdi's English and my attempts at Arabic (in fact, she outright laughs at those). But she's also got street smarts; she can stare down any stranger with a look I know will come back to haunt us in her teenage years. There's no messing with this girl.
Thanks for indulging my need to brag up our little rascal. I'll save some for another time!
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