Joy of all joys, this week is over! And by week, I mean a week ago Thursday, when Ellie came down with the flu combined with a fever. Generally, she bounces back within a day or so but this flu lingered and lingered and overstayed my patience. As all loving mothers do, when Ellie took ill I was compassionate, doting and nursing her with cuddles, stories, movies in bed and lots of comfort food. The compassion likely lasted 12 hours until I realized the symptoms of this flu included: whining, demanding, intolerance of being alone and constant screaming. The moment I left Ellie’s bedside, meaning Mommy’s bed, I heard high-pitched screaming until I returned. I repeated, ‘Elizabeth, I understand you’re sick and feel very bad but PLEASE stop screaming at me,’ until I was screaming too. Well, that was like talking to a 3 year old wall. Unfortunately, Emma also caught the flu and developed the same symptoms but thankfully, it bypassed the parents. So, now I wonder, is it better to be struck down with the flu or to be the mother of the sick?
The christening gown you both wore was made by your great, great, great grandmother, Jane Roberston Wissler, in approximately 1850.
Jane Robertson (1826-1907) was born in Aberdeenshire, Scotland and in 1837 emigrated to Canada with her family. In 1843, she married, Sem Wissler, (1819-1865), a Mennonite from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, who had moved to Canada with other family members and settled in the County of Waterloo. Together, Sem and Jane Wissler founded the village of Salem (now part of Elora) operating businesses including a mill and tannery. They had seven children.
Elizabeth and Emma are the sixth generation to wear this gown. Here is a picture of Elizabeth’s christening day:
We are now the proud household of one potty-trained kid. It has been months in the making but something clicked for Ellie at the Science Centre last week when she had a “stinky” while hanging out with some “big kids” who were on a school trip. Since then, we have patiently watched her sit long periods on her little potty, chatting away, until she discovered that familiar tingly feeling. Now she giggles in delight every time she is successful. She enjoys tossing the contents down the toilet while flushing it away with a friendly, “bye.” Along with the potty training were the lessons in privacy. She is learning that a closed door means someone needs privacy. The most memorable lesson, for all of us, was this past summer when Grandpa had gone into the washroom for a shower and was getting dressed for the day. However, the old wooden door at the farm has slight cracks along it so that at a certain height it does not allow one privacy. Ellie was quick to discover this minor flaw when she pressed her nose to the door and announced that she could see one obvious thing on Grandpa that also starts with the letter P; and after all these months, she still needs to understand exactly what privacy means because when Emma and I knocked on her bedroom door this morning, she opened it by saying, “Hi! I’m having privacy. Wanna come see?”
Emma Baby now has two tiny teeth poking through her bottom gum. I will forever miss her gummy smile and zombie-like wide mouth attacks on my face. She fevered and was out of sorts the past two days and finally at lunch today she opened her mouth in such a way that I could see two white spots. She seems aware of the rough new edge because she keeps poking her fingers along the bottom gum line and was giggling when Ellie told her how wonderful it was that she now had some teeth. Emma, here is a video of you when you were a wee three months old. I loved that stage, as I do all your stages, but I had somewhat hoped, 3 months would linger into a year and likely even that would be too short.