Alive and Well

Tuesday Henry went back to school. I was happy and so was he. It's nice to be healthy again and back into a routine. Today Henry had the day off since it was another teacher work day, so we slept in and were lazy. Then we went out and bought a rake (the old one got destroyed a while back when Ben was trying to dislodge that dead bird stuck in a tree). After lunch Henry insisted that I transform the pumpkin that's been sitting on our porch into a Jack O'Lantern. So I did that. Henry didn't like the smell of the pumpkin guts. I'm not big on the smell, either, but that's the price you pay when you want a Jack O'Lantern on your porch instead of a boring old pumpkin.

Henry liked the finished product. Me, too.


Then I raked up some leaves and Henry jumped in them. The raking reminded me how recently I'd been sick. Now I'm tired and ready for a nap. But I guess I'll make that pumpkin cheesecake instead.

Round Two

Well, we're at war with the plague at our house. This morning I was feeling pretty good, what after the week I've had. Yeah, that first day Henry got sick was rough. It's better now that he's old enough to run to the toilet when he's got to puke, unlike when he was a baby and somebody had to hold him with a bucket positioned under his head. But still, he doesn't quite make it every time. So all day after he got home from school I was cleaning up puke and the puked on kid. My hands were pruney from all the washing and hand sanitizer; I was really, really on top of things. And then as I was drying Henry off after a trip to the bath tub I didn't turn my head fast enough and he breathed right in my face. Then and there I knew I was doomed. I decided to sleep upstairs to keep watch over Henry, also to avoid the unsavory germs Ben was breathing out. I felt just a little sick as I went to bed that night, but I said, "Screw you, Germs!" and went to sleep. I felt pretty good the next morning and helped Henry recuperate. Then about three a.m. the puke virus woke me up and I ended up sleeping on the bathroom floor in between barfing sessions. The following two days after that were spent eating next to nothing and sleeping as much a possible.

So yeah, today started out okay. I got up and hurried to the shower and arrived a half hour late to a church training meeting. I was glad that they had refreshments (or in my case, breakfast) afterward. Then I went to the library and picked up some books, then came home and found Henry sprawled in his chair looking pathetic. 102 temperature. Dang it! I though we kicked this crap already! So I washed my hands, went back out and bought a bunch of stuff from the store. Hopefully he'll be okay to go back to school on Monday. Hopefully I won't be getting a fever. Hopefully Ben won't either.

And if the cat gets sick I'm going to lose my mind.

School... a Blessing and a Plague

I love that Henry's in school and he loves it, too. He's learning and having fun, and I have all morning to sit in silence or read a book, clean the house, or waste time on the internet. School is marvelous, a wonderful blessing. School is also a breeding ground for the little miseries in my life. It is the place where Henry is exposed to numerous strains of diseases, be it rhino-viruses or puking bugs, or flu. Today is the third time this month that Henry's gotten sick. Luckily I was at home, having already volunteered and visited the library, when I got a phone call from school informing me that Henry puked and needed someone to come get him. His puked-on clothes are drying in the dryer and his puked-on comforter is in the washer; as soon as it's in the dryer his puked-on bed sheets are next.

Henry's asleep right now. Whatever he's got it's nasty. Anything that gets Henry to sleep during daylight hours usually is. So right now I'm praying that it's just a stomach bug and not the flu. I really don't want to deal with the flu right now. Mostly because I know I will end up with it, then Ben.

Well, time for some more hand sanitizer. I best run along and Lysol the whole house.

Another Saturday Well Spent

Today Henry got his finger bitten by a bird, but that was the only bad thing that happened. This morning Ben, Henry, and I got up early and went and cleaned the church. While I was busy wiping little fingerprints off all the glass windows and doors, Ben emptied trash cans and wiped down chalkboards, and Henry ran around with one of those push sweeper things and cleaned the carpet. Usually there are other people there to help, but this time it was just us three. I'm really glad we had the opportunity to work together as a family and do some service. Goodness knows we do very little teamwork cleaning at home, so any chance we get to do extracurricular stuff can't be doing us any harm.

After that we went to see one of Ben friends. We didn't have to be there until the afternoon, so since Mom and Dad's was on the way, we stopped by for a surprise visit. They weren't home, so we ended up hanging out with Uncle Dave and watched a football game while Henry played. Then we finished off some enchiladas that were in the fridge. Hope you weren't planning on eating them, Mom and Dad. If so, please accept the dishes I washed as payment for eating your food without your explicit permission. Also, Henry ate three chicken nuggets and an apple.

Then we went to Asheboro to visit Ben's friend. While Ben and I hung out with him and a bunch of other people, Henry ran off to play with a little girl that was there. They had a parakeet in a cage in the hallway around the corner from us that attracted his attention. Although he was informed many times by various people, including the little girl, that the bird was not friendly and would bite, apparently the temptation was too much for him and he stuck his finger in the cage and the bird bit him. Somebody saw him holding his finger as he quietly departed from the cage. It seemed like he wasn't going to say anything but when he saw that we knew what happened, he came over for a hug. Poor kid's finger really hurt; there was a little puncture on his fingertip so we washed it up and discussed why we shouldn't poke our fingers into birdcages. Henry still wanted to be friends with the bird, though, and asked what would happen if he fed it a chip. I guess it's a weird human thing to want to be friends with animals, even if they're dangerous, as if just because we like them the animal will naturally like us in return. I think Henry learned a valuable lesson today. On the way out I facetiously asked Henry if he wanted to give the bird a goodbye kiss. Henry seriously answered no, because the bird would bite his lip. Smart kid. I'm sad his finger and his feelings got hurt, but hopefully this will prevent him from ending up like some other well-intentioned goobs that got eaten by grisly bears and mauled by tigers and stuff.

Clarification

For those under the impression that I can still squeeze my blubbery post-baby butt in high school jeans, thanks for the compliment. Unfortunately, none of my high school jeans survive so I can't find out for certain, but I really think it's a safe bet to assume otherwise. My high school t-shirts, on the other hand, were purchased solely for what was printed on them, not at all for fit, and hence 99% of those were huge on me anyway, and yes, I still have some and they serve as nightgowns now.

Aside from the above referenced t-shirt nightgowns and a few of those itchy burlap shirt things stuffed in a box somewhere (because you have to save a few high school clothes for your kids to see one day and go, "Damn, Mom, that's hideous; I can't believe you used to wear that!") These are the only high school items I have left and have actually worn recently:



On another note, Henry's sick today. His nose is a faucet and he's been coughing incessantly. I decided to keep him home from school today. In case you need photographic evidence that Henry's still cute when he's sick:

Another One of Them There Birthdays

Yep, I'm one year older and wiser, too. I guess in spite of a few unpleasant nuggets, the past year has been pretty good. Mostly because I have an awesome family, awesome friends and neighbors. I guess it's in my nature to be a little cynical, mostly because the bad things in life are so dang obvious, and I can always find something to complain about even though I know perfectly well no matter how bad things get they could be worse. In spite of all that, I can honestly say from personal experience I know that things tend to work themselves out for the best and that the best blessings usually come right when you need them most. I went to the General Relief Society Broadcast two weeks ago. It was a last minute decision for me again because I forgot about it, but I got up and went anyway. Right away I saw someone I knew and sat with her, ate a nice dinner and made conversation with someone I didn't know. I'm still shy and not fond of big crowds of strangers, but I dealt and it was all good. Last weekend there was a Temple Square Mission reunion in Utah that I didn't get to attend, but some cool folks posted photos and stuff on facebook, so I got a little taste, I guess. Thanks to a good friend I got a quote from Sister Snow (I love that lady): "In the end it will all be OK. If it is not OK than it isn't the end." I want that to be the title of my life's story. I want to be optimistic as much as possible because I truly believe there's a reason to be.

Maggie came with Wesley on Monday and we went birthday shopping. I like shopping with Maggie because I seriously hate shopping for myself to the point that I almost never do it unless she's there. Plus she has a no-nonsense way of telling me that my clothes are hideous and to freaking change them already. Aside from being a picky tomboy, one of my major faults is hanging onto old things. Like a pair of Chuck Taylor's from high school. I wore them a few weeks ago, I swear. And I still have a pair of church shoes from twelve years ago that are still in pretty good shape, but are so out of style and really I should just chuck them and buy new shoes, but I hate shoe shopping so much I just keep putting it off year after year. I had an eye examination today and my prescription changed (my eyesight actually got better, believe it or not) and instead of picking out a new pair of glasses I opted to keep my three year old frames and swap out lenses. I still wear the same old t-shirts and jeans and have absolutely nothing I could wear if I had to attend a formal dinner somewhere. Sure, I could go out and buy a whole new wardrobe, but ten years from now I'd just be back in the same boat. This is why I need to be rich and have someone to shop for me so I can look good while I continue to be lazy and indifferent to fashion.

Oh, well. It'll all be okay in the end.

How'd They Manage in the Dark Ages?

Tuesday after I got Henry on the bus I went down and volunteered at the school doing busy work for the teachers. There wasn't a whole lot to do since there were a ton of moms there, so I busied myself with cutting out laminated stuff. Then I paired up with a much taller mom and dismantled an art display on a wall of the office. When we were done pulling stuff off the wall, we packed it all up and took it down to the art room, where Henry's class just happened to be at the moment. The other mom went and said hey to her kid while I looked around for Henry. He wasn't in the room, so I assumed, with only the slightest doubt, he was probably in the bathroom. The other mom had to make a stop at the kids' classroom, so I tagged along. Then Henry's teacher sees me and her face is genuinely happy, so right away I'm suspicious. Turns out Henry wasn't feeling well and had a slight fever and the office had been trying to reach me. This all happened an hour and a half before while I was in the workroom, and in the office, where my kid was probably waiting in the nurse's room. Anyway, Henry was feeling a little better so they'd sent him down to the art room. Well, since he was coughing and had a runny nose, I went ahead and signed him out for the day, collected his stuff and met him in the art room. The kids were all painting pictures of leaves so I waited until the end of art class for them to finish up. Of course, he was circling me like a puppy while I was leading him out, and by the time Ben got home from work he was back to his old self.

Ben had been concerned because he'd gotten a call from the school and since he couldn't get away from work, had tried calling me, too, as well as everyone else he knew, but no one had answered his call. He'd sent me two emails asking where I was. Which brings me to the title of this here blog thingy. How the heck did people manage in the days before the cell phone and email and stuff? Seriously. My kid had to wait a whole hour and a half before I could be reached. The horror. Imagine if this scenario had played out yesterday when I was out getting the tires replaced. He'd have had to wait two hours, and that's if I'd looked at the answering machine when I got home. All sarcasm aside, I do like the communications amenities we have nowadays, and could probably do with a few more. I can hardly conceive how my mom got through my school years without an answering machine. Or how my dad's mom managed to raise nine kids without a phone. It must have been a quieter, more patient time. I'd have liked living then, aside from the whole outhouse thing, and polio and diphtheria, etc.

Although I must say that while I could easily live without a phone, I'd sure hate it if I didn't have the internets.