Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Am also planning to work on my book more and my blog less. So bear with me.
But for my Greensboro buds, give me a call at my parents house. They still live in the same house where I grew up.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
So if I bite my tongue trying to prematurely climb into the tub, you'll reward me with a Popsicle? Cool.
Mom, this thing melts pretty fast when you dip it in the tub. This bath still counts, right?
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Henry has allergies. Like his mother. Like his Papa. Sorry, buster. The reason you get a hacking cough when you play in the leaves? It's because you and mold, and trees, and grass, will never be friends. Or maybe you can be friends but you're going to have to be high to play with them.
Let's just be thankful you're not allergic to Peanut Butter because Reece's are awesome. And if you develop an allergy to Nutrigrain Bars you will probably starve to death.
But it is at least good to know what is going on. Particularly because
"extra phlegm from the allergies"
+"extra saliva from bottom molars coming in"
+ "any milk at all"
= puking once a day for the past week.
But it wasn't like the pukes from last time. He was not puny. Rather, he'd be building with blocks, simply turn his head, vomit, and then continue on his merry way. Because of this, sometimes I wouldn't realize he'd puked until he was splashing his hands in it. And to make matters worse, I kept thinking that maybe he was just sticking his fingers down his throat (because he keeps chewing on his hands while he is teething) so I kept giving him milk. Augh. Apparently, it made more sense to me for him to binge and purge rather than just his tummy was too full of snot to handle milk.
And also for awhile I thought he had a parasite. Or maybe African Sleeping Sickness. This is because when Sloan is out of town I watch hours of House at night. I just can't seem to get enough of Hugh Laurie.
But we are on day 2 of allergy meds and so far so good. (Meaning less coughing and no puking.) I'm not going to give him milk for at least a week. And he has yet to slap me in the face when I give him his nose spray. (A face slap being standard procedure for Saline drops and the aspirator.)
But I have also shared with my son some good gifts. He is a fabulous dancer, in particular, he likes to shimmy his shoulders. My friend Robin said, "Of course he does. I wonder who he's seen doing that." But he does not like to dance alone. He's not the type of kid where you just turn on the music and he'll start breaking it down. Rather, I'll put on the music and he'll climb up on the coffee table, reach for my hands and we'll rock out to Jack Johnson. He'll shimmy, shake, nod his head, and see just how low he can go. It is a hoot. (If only I hadn't set a bad example with letting him climb on the coffee table to dance party with Mommy.)
He also is an expert tower builder. This morning, we built a tower so tall he had to stand to put the blocks on top. And he'll even put the blocks away when asked. Okay, that's not quite how it works. I have to put a block away and then say, "Oh! Good job, Mommy!" And then he'll start to toss blocks into the bin and I have to say, "Good job, Henry!" every time a block makes it in. And he also has pretty good aim. He did not get this from me.
But most of all, I have shared with him, for better or worse, my sense of humor and a strong sense of self. Henry's new bedtime issue is that he doesn't like to lay back on his changing pad while you put his pajamas on. He wants to stand and put his pants on one leg at a time like a normal person. So we stand him up and face him towards the mirror while we put on his jammies. And then Henry goes nuts. First, he smiles. Then he laughs at himself. Then he'll play peek-a-boo with himself a couple of times. Then laugh. Then wave at himself. Then clap for himself. And then finish off with a couple of kisses. That's right folks, my son kisses his own reflection in the mirror.
And it is rather difficult to put footy pajamas on someone who is making out with themselves. Just so you know.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
- For my nose to start running uncontrollably on my morning run.
- For me to complete one mile.
- For saying "Where's Henry?" and then "There he is!" over and over to get old while he covers and uncovers himself with a blanket in the jog stroller.
- For my Ipod to drop on the ground a total of three times and then begin to skip.
- For me to realize that "Paint it Black" by the Rolling Stones is the best song to run to EVER. But not when your Ipod stops it suddenly and then throws you into the Beastie Boys' "Sabatauge."
- For me to wonder how the Pinball Wizard really got so good. I mean, who can play pinball with their sense of smell?
- For the arch of my left foot to begin to throb.
And then, at about 18 minutes and 12 seconds...
- I realize that I haven't looked at my watch in about six minutes. (I check to see how long I've been running.) This is a world record.
- To contemplate walking. Because now the arch in my right foot is beginning to throb.
- Henry is mad that I'm no longer playing peek-a-boo with him because I can't talk.
- I become fully aware that I'm leaning into the jog stroller and without it, I not only wouldn't be able to keep running, but probably would die. Or at the very least, fall over and have to scream, "Help! I've fallen and I can't get up."
- Decide that I can keep running. I'll get home faster because now I've got to pee.
And, finally, at approximately 30 minutes and 34 seconds...
- The Beach Boys "God Only Knows" comes on. And I've just turned back onto my street. Wait a minute, I've just run 2 and a half miles. So I decide to start walking because I need to "cool down."
- Recognize that while I could run home, I can't walk. My feet hurt too much. And then there's the whole pee issue. And my calves are killing me.
- I can play peek-a-boo again. And when Henry sees our house ahead, he throws off the blanket with glee. I have to stop to pick the blanket up off the ground. I fall over. And just sit in the road for awhile. A neighbor comes to get her mail, so I make it look like I've just stopped to stretch. In the middle of the street.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Sloan was given a case of Grillin' Beans when visiting the Bush plant in TN for work this week. The best part about this is he had to check the case of beans at the airport. And the airline lost his beans. His suitcase came through fine, but we still had to fill out paperwork for the beans.
The Pickle and I were standing off to the side of the luggage counter when someone said, "Are you in line for lost luggage?"
"No," I said. "They lost my husband's beans." I offered no explanation. Some things are just better left unsaid.
So at about 10pm last night, we heard a thud on our front porch and sure enough, it was Delta with a late night bean delivery. And just in time for Troop 867's canned food drive.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Gosh I love my friends. Even, and maybe even especially, when they're so different from me. This video was made by a high school friend of mine that I re-befriended as an adult. She and her husband Rich were there when Sloan and I met. Rich was Sloan's personal beer caddy at our wedding reception and saved me from having to dance with a scary old man. And they are so liberal. (I remember watching the 2004 Olympics with them at Smith Mtn Lake and Rich wanted to give a do-over to a swimmer who had too many false starts!) And I love 'em for it.
But our friendship is a testimony to what is great about America--we can have a glass of wine and talk about politics and religion and disagree and laugh and see things from a different point of view and at the end of the night, remain friends. No shouting matches, name calling, or label giving. Just an appreciation for thought out belief systems strong enough to stand up for. And an appreciation for a good glass of wine. We musn't forget the wine.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
It took every ounce of maturity not to yell at her, "Yeah--well you're ugly." (She wasn't.)
I'm still sort of shocked by this. For a couple of reasons. First, I'll admit that I'm overly judgemental, snobby, and sometimes elitist. But I tend to think I'm better than everybody. On the planet. And my pettiness is sinful. I recognize that and repent of it often. Because it shows me that I have an inaccurate picture of who I am, my shortcomings, and the amount of grace bestowed on me by God. That being said, I look down upon people for their clothing, behavior, parenting skills, hair-dos and the like. I don't judge people for who they are and who God has created them to be. So I take great offense to the lady in the neon running shorts telling me I'm racist.
The second reason I was offended was because I think it is insulting to Barack Obama. As if his only qualifying characteristic for the office of President is his race. I'm hopeful that even though he is not whom I thought would be best for the job, he is more than adequately qualified for the job through his service to country, leadership, charisma, and experience.
But the main reason I was offended was because it doesn't speak to the fact that no, I didn't vote for Obama, and if she really wanted to know why I would've calmly told her that I do want to "spread the wealth" but that I do that by tithing, volunteering, and donating to local charities. That I think blind charity, or government handouts, can be oppressive because how can you retain your dignity if you can't say Thank you? I also probably would've shown her the first picture I have of Henry. He is 8 cells big. And in a petri dish. And Obama co-sponsored a bill that would authorize the industrial production of embryos for use in biomedical research in which they would be killed all the while voting against using federal money in stem-cell research that does not involve the production and destruction of embryos.
But I didn't say any of these things to her. Instead, I showed my maturity, by saying "That black and red dress that Michelle Obama wore last night made her boobs look like they were on fire. And not in a good way." And then I dramatically put on my head phones and got on the leg press machine.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
I think he sensed that today was his check up as he's been carb-loading the past 2 days. (Also probably due to his cheerio, rice, and banana diet he'd been on for most of the post-puking weekend.) This morning he ate a sandwich baggie full of frosted mini-wheats while at the Polling place, then an entire banana when we got home. On the way to the airport to drop Sloan off for another business trip he ate a box of pretzels. And then for lunch he cleared his plate at Ruby Tuesday's--kids fried shrimp and french fries and then proceeded to munch on my fries as well. He also is a fan of dunking the same fry over and over into the ketchup. This is because I won't let him just dip his fingers into the ketchup. I tried explaining that condiments must go on something. Unless we're talking about Ginger salad dressing from Kabuto and then it's just bottom's up....
Monday, November 3, 2008
H and I were cleaning up my room. (OK, I was cleaning and H was trying to open the armoire so he could get at the buttons on the TV.) Then he escaped and I found him grunting and tugging at Mr. Bunny from between the slats in his crib. So, because I'm a softy, I got Mr. Bunny. Henry loved on Mr. Bunny and then brought him back to my room, sat him in his chair and then set back to work on getting at the TV. Then he dragged Mr. Bunny to play with our curtains. Then into my closet to pull out all of my shoes. He even tried putting shoes on Mr. Bunny. Interspersed with the playing, were also times he would just bury his face in Mr. Bunny, squeeze him tight and then sigh. As if to say, "Oh! Mr. Bunny! You are too wonderful for words."
This wouldn't be a problem if Mr. Bunny were a normal sized rabbit. Mr. Bunny is roughly the same size as Henry. He's huge. Augh.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Am I a horrible Mom if I kind of miss him being sick? No, not that I want him to be sick, just that I miss him wanting to just hold me and cuddle up with me on the couch. Why does he have to dump out all of the Duplos, Megablocks, and Wood Blocks that I just sorted and sanitized? I even tried turning on George for some cuddle time this afternoon. He went up to the TV and turned it off.
Also, I'm thinking of going on Halloween Candy diet. The only thing I ate on Friday was Fun Size Milky Ways and Snickers Bars. Apparently, this helped me to lose 6 pounds.