Happy Birthday, Henry!

On Being Happy

A few days ago while I was hefting a huge plastic storage bin downstairs, my foot slipped. Luckily I was near the bottom and only fell down a few steps and landed on my butt, where I've plenty of naturally grown, organic padding to keep me from busting a hip. I did scrape some skin off my pinky finger, though. Ben was right behind me on the stairs and witnessed the whole embarrassing fiasco. And he didn't laugh.

Bless you, Ben.

Yesterday while I was out to procure party stuff for Henry's birthday, I decided to get a haircut. Later on when Ben and Henry got home I did one of those obvious look-at-me hair flip things. Ben just rolled his eyes. Henry hadn't a clue, so I asked him if he noticed anything different about me. He was not getting it at all.

"Do you notice anything different about Mommy today?"

"Umm? You're happy?"

Good thing I started laughing at the same time as Ben or I'd have to smack him one (Ben, not Henry).

Even after I pointed out the haircut that Henry still didn't quite notice. I guess he might notice if I shaved my head or dyed it blue. It was kind of interesting that he failed to notice my change of hairdo when just the other day he asked me if I remembered when the microwave used to be on the other side of the kitchen sink. I think I moved the microwave a couple of years ago.

And yes, I'm always happy, people! Every single day!

The Monday before last Henry had another teacher work day, so we hopped in the car and went to visit Maggie. It was a nice sunny day, and Henry asked questions and chatted with me the entire hour and a half drive. At Maggie's he entertained Wesley, and between the both of them it took less than five minutes to collapse a tent and randomly distribute all the toys in Wesley's room throughout the house. For lunch we went to visit Mom at work. Since she works at a doctor's office, Maggie took the opportunity to tease Henry and told him he was going to get a shot, but he called her on it, reminding her that I told him last year that he didn't have to get any more shots for a long time. We went out to eat and then went back to Maggie's where Henry and Wesley recommenced play/destruction of the tent. Meanwhile, Maggie and I perused Netflix movies looking for something that we could both agree on watching. That went on for about an hour or so. It reminded me very much about trips to Blockbuster back in the day, wandering the store for an hour while we tried to find something to rent. Now we can waste time looking in the comfort of home, although we were at the time wedged together in a single arm chair because she couldn't get the wireless to work on her laptop and had it plugged into her internet thingy with a five foot cord. Dad came over after a little while and we showed him some free dogs on Craigslist. Then Henry and I had to leave so we could get home in time for dinner. The drive back was a lot quieter because Henry fell asleep. I could see him in the rear-view mirror, his head slumped over onto his shoulder, so peaceful. While we were crossing the bridge over Jordan Lake it was right at that golden time before sunset and I saw myriads of white birds circling out over the blue water. It was beautiful but I let Henry sleep through it.

This past Friday a winter storm came through, snow first, followed by sleet. Everything was white in the morning and Henry was very excited. After breakfast we all went out for a walk through the lightly falling sleet to the "dragon" park. Ben took some nice photos on the way.


The greenway, not so green:


A tree psyched out by the warm weather before the snow:



And a little fun:



After the snow it actually decided to stay cold for a change. All the secondary roads stayed covered in compacted sleet. That meant Henry got to miss three days of school this week. This morning the schools were open again, but on a one hour delay. You better believe I was excited to get Henry on the bus.

There was another teacher workday scheduled for next Monday, but because of the snow all the kids have to go in and make up their missed day. Oh, well. It'll be a while before Henry and I get to play again on a weekday.

Me Being Industrious in My Own Special Way

A while back Ben's mom found his old bed frame in her parents' attic. She's been wanting us to pick it up because it actually goes with all of Henry's bedroom furniture, but we've been putting it off, mostly because we don't have a vehicle large enough to put it in. Anyway with the help of a friend and her minivan, I got it home. I had to rig it because the mattress Henry sleeps on is some weird set that for some reason is about two inches too narrow for a full size bed frame. I wasn't satisfied with the original rig, so I decided to fix that today. First, since Henry had the day off from school, we slept in late (eight is late for us now) and then since it's actually warmed up enough to go outside, after breakfast we went to the park. Everything was soaking wet from the rain last night, but it was warm and Henry had his scooter and played with some kids from a day care. On the way back home Henry and I doubled up on the scooter and rode down the sidewalk together. It was a cool ride, flying down the hill real fast, the wind blowing through our hair, underneath a beautiful, cloudless blue sky.

At the hardware store I got a bag of bird seed, potting soil, a bunch of seeds, and two 2x4s. The guy at the checkout counter let Henry scan everything and asked if I was doing a greenhouse project. I informed him that I was jerry-rigging my son's bed with the 2x4s, and yes, the other stuff was for my garden, (which I won't get to for a few months, but at least I'll have the stuff ready when I do). I had to do some quick thinking when we got to the car, because the grandpa mobile (Uncle Guzzle) is so old the back seats don't fold down. I ended up unrolling the back window and sticking them through there over the lowered passenger seat and wedging them in the floorboard beneath the dash. Then I secured the ends with a bungee, cushioned the window glass with a knit hat, and we were on our way.

At home I measured the bed frame, cut the 2x4s with a hand saw, and fixed Henry's bed. That mattress ain't going nowhere.

Wanna see? (Guess I should've properly made the bed before taking this picture. For that matter, I should've gotten Henry to clean his room a little.)


Then I got to work trying to remedy this little problem:


Yes, the old dead tree finally keeled over. I think I might have preferred if it had missed that branch and smashed part of the fence. That I could more easily fix. As it is, yeah, it makes me very nervous. Knowing that the tree is going come down no matter what, I thought I could spare the fence at least, so I hammered the two fence panels beneath the tree loose and moved them out of the way. Henry helped by hammering different parts of the fence and staying out of my way. When Ben got home I suggested that he cut the branch that the dead tree was leaning against, so he set the ladder against the beech tree to see how he might go about doing so. It's way up there, and upon closer inspection, seems to be about as thick as Ben's leg. Now we're going to make inquiries about a chainsaw.

Then at about four Henry got a phone call from one of his friends asking him to play with her at the park. So we went down there again, this time Henry rode his bike. He's still a little slow on pedaling, and on the slightest hill he needs a push, so I'm making him take his bike out as much as possible to build up those skinny legs of his. At the park we played for about and hour and then went home and made pizza.

Still on my list of things to do: a whole list of home repairs, and oh, yeah, clean the kitchen, and throw those whites in the dryer. And fold the huge pile of laundry.

Homework

Ben is helping Henry with his homework. Henry's supposed to read for twenty minutes and then write a sentence or two about his favorite character in the story.

I'm very interested in how this will turn out. I personally haven't read the story, but I saw the cover. It looks right up Henry's alley. As for predicting his favorite character, I think color may factor in which one Henry will like more. The Thing and the Hulk are both big and strong, but one of them is green. Also they don't like each other and they fight a lot. Whoever wins the fight at the end might end up being Henry's favorite.

Yes, Ben and Henry read a comic book.

I'm sitting here writing this because I want to let Ben get the full-on parental homework experience. Plus I'm dying to see what Henry had to say about it. Sitting here is like waiting for Christmas.

Oh, boy, here we go, the end product:

"Hulk and Thing like to fight. I like Hulk."

The green guy wins.

Awesome.

3 Days And...

No phone calls from teacher.

Yeah! Three days in a row Henry got a high five coming in the front door. His awesome personality + good behavior = happy mom. I think happy mom = happy kid, but sometimes I think Henry could be happy no matter what.

Getting Back into the Swing of Things

First off, the holidays were crazy busy. Last minute shopping, figuring out the schedule, making the Christmas '09 tour, dealing with both Ben and Henry twenty-four-seven for two weeks. Madness. Aside from that, it was very nice. We got to visit with family, Henry got a bike and a ton of Legos, Ben got a long reprieve from work, and I read a pile of books. Now a cold front has moved in and I've spent the greater part of the week inside where it's warm.

The start of 2010 has been interesting. Henry's been a real terror, both at church and school. His Sunday school teacher put it best: he has no impulse control. I had to teach the Sharing Time lesson in Primary, so somebody sent Henry to hang out with his dad; unfortunately Ben was teaching the priesthood lesson at the time. I think we all went home a little cranky that day.

Then Monday I got a phone call from Henry's teacher. Apparently during math time Henry decided to make a pest of himself and run around annoying kids. I took a moment to tell him to knock it off and let him know he was in trouble. His teacher attributed his behavior to re-acclimating himself to school after the long break. So I grounded Henry from games and sugar and informed him that if he behaved the next day I'd lift the ban on treats. Oh, the humanity.

I was feeling optimistic until I got another phone call the very next day at the exact same time. Henry was bothering kids during math time. I talked to him again, ordered him to obey his teacher and warned him he was in trouble again. His teacher was at a loss. So was I. In all her years of teaching little kids she'd never seen anything like Henry. He'd been pestering one of his friends while she was trying to count something or another, but she was very patiently coping with him, so Henry wasn't getting any kind of reward for being silly. After I hung up I got the impression that the remedy for Henry's behavior was a good old-fashioned smack on the arse. No treats, no games, and a spanking followed by a long talk.

We'll see how well that worked. I still have a few more hours until math time.

True Story

Yesterday Henry announced that he was going to unload the dishwasher.

Ben: "No, you need supervision."

Henry: "I have super vision!"

He turns around, revealing the 3-D glasses he's wearing.

Guess who emptied the dishwasher? That's right. Me.

Not sure where the boys went.

Catching up

Wow, okay, it's almost been a month since my last post. Sorry about that. I was lazy after Thanksgiving, then I was busy, then I was lazy again, then I forgot, and now here I am. There were some very funny things Henry said that made me say right then to Ben, there's some blog fodder right there, but I didn't write it down and guess what? I completely forgot what it was that he said.

Well, Thanksgiving was fun. We had a Thanksgiving lunch with Ben's Dad and step-mom and some of her family. Everything was good, Henry actually ate some ham, and I was too full to finish dessert, even though I really, really wanted to. Henry got to shoot Grandpa's pellet gun and thought that was pretty neat. Then we went over to my parents' to spend the night. The next day I helped Dad finish laying down hardwood flooring in his bedroom closet. It was fun using the nail gun; it made a nice satisfying BAM! when I smacked it with the mallet. Then some friends came over to shoot their pumpkins-- they saved them especially for this purpose. I'm so proud. Since I didn't have a pumpkin-- mine rotted and went moldy, remember-- I made due with soda cans and for Ben I made a target. Since he's a pro at those first-person perspective shooting games, I drew him a nice zombie head. Henry also drew a few targets. In case anyone believes I let my five year old shoot a rifle, no, Henry only watched for a few minutes and then went back to the house with Papaw. After we dispatched the pumpkins, soda cans, and zombie, we cleaned the guns. Since it's been probably fifteen years since I'd last done it, I thought it was pretty cool that I still remembered enough to figure out how to break down the SKS. More or less. When I was attempting to reassemble it, some pieces I'd forgotten about, a little rod thingy and a spring, went flying out across the table. Then I remembered when reinserting the cleaning kit in the stock to use a pen to push it in so my finger didn't get pinched. Then we cleaned up just in time as Mom got home from work, so she didn't find any filthy, oily gun parts all over her kitchen table. After our friends gave us a quick astronomy lesson, we all went home.

Friday it snowed. For about ten minutes. The school sent the kids home an hour early just in case, but nothing stuck. As soon as Henry got off the bus he ran inside and asked me if I'd seen the snow. Then he said you have to be very quiet in order for it to snow. I knew exactly where he got that from. I can just picture twenty something kindergarteners stampeding to the windows to watch the snow, and hear the words his teacher said to get them all to shut up. I really like his teacher.

Now that Christmas is near, Henry's in true form, nagging the heck out of me. Last year it was "Buy me Legos!" every five minutes. This year I managed to get some presents wrapped and under the tree and Henry, little punk, can read his own name, and has discovered one of his presents. Since he got to open the present our friend Edward got him, he thinks he shouldn't have to wait until Christmas to open the rest.

Every few minutes Henry says, "Let me open my present!"

Or, "Don't let me wait until Christmas!"

I correct him and tell him it's "don't make me wait until Christmas."

He doesn't care.

Sunday we had our Christmas program at Church. Our choir has sadly dwindled in numbers and participation over the last year, to the point where it was just Ben and me and no pianist, we basically abandoned the whole thing, but since we were asked to sing for the program, We started having practices again, sans pianist. Having had three years of piano back in the day, I can hunt and peck with one or two fingers, but only one line at a time and I mess up a lot. So Ben and I were able to figure out our parts and sing a capella. It wasn't as dulcet a sound as I'd like, but we try and that's what counts. This Sunday about ten minutes before I had to leave, some more people showed up so that was nice. Christmas miracle: the Sunday School class spent the whole time practicing the song. Yay! So we had a bunch of people and we sounded pretty good. Then I had to direct the kids to sing Away in a Manger. There were just a handful of them, mostly three, four and five year olds, and two older kids. The little ones were pretty excited to get up there, especially Henry, and nicely arranged themselves in a little group. I decided to stand up there beside them because I knew if any of them actually sang it would be a miracle. Yeah, it was pretty much a solo-- me, smiling, making pointed eye contact at the older kids who sheepishly mouthed the words. I think I got a few "asleep"s out of them. Oh, well. They got up there and looked cute, that's what counts.

Now I've got the next two weeks of family visits and cleaning up after two vacationing males. Oh, boy.

Some Random Photos of Henry and Driveway Art

Henry as the Polar Express conductor:


I drew a robot for Henry in the driveway, the robot from a story a friend and I wrote way back in high school:


Ben saw the robot and thought he'd make a better one, but it's not original and therefore, inferior:


Henry and his fabulous cat:


We're a regular family of artists, huh?

A Busy Week, or I'm an Evil Sadistic Baby-mouth Burning Psychopath

I'm great at these blog titles, huh? It's true though, I did have a busy week; every day on the calendar was filled with some appointment or another. Also, I burned an innocent baby's mouth on Saturday. It wasn't my fault, really, but Ben wants me to feel guilty about it for some reason. I did feel bad, though. Just not guilty. I'll get to that in a minute because while that makes for a good story, I have to get through the boring stuff first, because while one purpose for this blog is amusing family and friends, it's also the only way that I actually journal my life. Pretty lame but it's all I'm willing to do at this point.

Anyway, Monday I scrubbed the heck out of my house and did a butt-load of laundry. Tuesday I volunteered at Henry's school, which involved wrapping Christmas gifts for the teachers, and then I helped out at the book fair. I specifically did this so I could help Henry find a couple of books, because let's face it, if left to his own devices he'd probably pick out something lame. So with Henry and two of his classmates in tow (it just happened to be the two kids we know from church) I directed the kids towards the cool book racks. The two other kids picked out stuff right away, in fact they both picked five books they wanted. I showed Henry the rack with Captain Underpants. He snatched one right up. The one with Professor Poopypants. He already has one at home given to us by Grandma Tilley, so he was stoked to see there were more of them. He picked two Captain Underpants books and he was done. Yeah, I know, instead of showing him some nice books I let him pick out the gross-out humor ones. You know what? I think it's awesome.

Wednesday I drove to the school to pick Henry up. I think it would've been quicker to walk there, but I knew Henry would be beat and besides that, we had friends coming over after school and I wanted to get him home as early as possible so he'd have more time with his friends. Having called the day previous, I was fairly certain I was following proper procedure.

Me: Hey, I'm picking up my kid from school tomorrow. I need to send a note to his teacher, right?

Office Person: That's right.

Me: Anything else?

Office Person: That's it.

So that's what I did. I got to school twenty minutes early and waited in the long line of cars waiting to pick up kids. It looked like it was going to take forever, but the wait wasn't so bad. After some dude came by the car and asked for my car pool number (?) and told me I was doing it wrong (I totally felt like Mr. Mom) I gave him Henry's name and he went to make sure Henry was sent to the right place. Then the walking kids came out and went ballistic as they ran their merry way home, and then the carpool kids came out. I was happy with the efficiency with which the carpool lane was moving along. It wasn't long before Henry was hopping into the car. The principal, however, felt the need to tell me I was doing it wrong. Not my fault, ask your brilliant office person about that helpful info, chick. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. I'll get right on that TPS cover sheet, too. When we got home Henry stuck a Captain Underpants book in my hands, we cracked the book and got two lines out and the doorbell rang. Then Henry and his pals had a fun time while I chatted with my friend. After they went home, Ben, Henry and I went out to buy Henry's game. He has been good at church and earned the requisite number of star stickers, so we stopped by the used game store, Henry picked out a Sonic game, then we went over to the Wal-mart so he could get a happy meal. Went home and read some Captain Underpants and helped Henry do his homework.

Thursday morning I had Primary planning meeting at the church (I'm no longer doing Cub Scouts, but working with Primary, which is Sunday school for the 3 to 11 year old kids). I can't remember what all I did that day. I think I crashed and took a nap that afternoon.

Friday was book club. I sent Henry off to school and baked some bread. We read Hunger Games, so I looked all through the attic for this cornucopia I knew I hucked in there a couple years ago, but alas, if it's in there, it's buried pretty good. Not finding that, I instead etched mockingjays on the top of the bread. If you don't know what I'm talking about, read the book. One of the book clubbers dropped off her kids so she could make a doctor's appointment and I finished cleaning up while her angelic kids played quietly in Henry's room. Book club was fun, we ate bread; even though the mockingjays didn't show up too well, it still tasted pretty good. After Henry got home, we went out to pick out a birthday present for his friend and then with Ben we went out for some Baba Ganouj and then went to the church to attend a dance. Hispanic dances are fun, but slow to start because everybody arrives late. Henry was the first one on the dance floor, doing a full body interpretive dance to some Merengue. Ben and I are not dancers, so we sat out the dances that required rhythm and skill, and put in a few appearances for some slow dances so we wouldn't look like jerks. It was fun but we left early (nine) so Henry could get some sleep.

Saturday morning we dropped one of the cars off for an oil change. Then I went with Henry to his friend's birthday party. Ben was going to come and then decided he was going to slough it, but then changed his mind, and then hurt his back picking Henry up, so ended up staying at home. The party was fun. We got there early because I misread the invitation, but that was cool. There were a ton of boys and one girl. It was a Star Wars theme, and the kids had to be Jedis-in-training. Picture slightly-controlled chaos, five- to seven-year-olds training by exercising and playing "Anakin" Says, then a crazy free-for-all with giant balloon lightsabers. Tons of fun. Henry was sad to leave as always because Caleb is his "bestest friend in the world" and Hannah's pretty cool, too. After that we went home, picked up Ben and got the car back from the oil change place. After that I went to the store to pick up some stuff for this dinner thing we were going to. Then when I got home I discovered my cat has worms. That made my day. So I made some inquiries and hurried over to Petsmart to get some worm medicine. Then I came back and fixed some stuff for the dinner, hid the cat's food, and we went to the dinner.

The dinner was for Families Supporting Adoption, and it was at this dinner that I got blamed for burning a baby's mouth. It was because of the salsa I made. I made it like we usually make it, but I guess the arbol peppers were slightly more potent this time. Anyway, there was this little kid who loves salsa, who happened to sample the salsa before his mom did. Yeah, so the kid started bawling and I passed them a cup of juice while his mom was stuffing bread in his mouth. Poor little guy, even Henry said it was too spicy (he likes salsa, too-- a miracle, I know). But everyone else said it was good. Anyway, we had a good time and I unexpectedly got to see an old friend I haven't seen in over a decade. That was really cool.

Then when we got home I mixed some worm poison in the cat's special wet food and she went to town. Die, worms, die!!! (I'm trying not to puke as I write.)

And yes, we're looking into adoption. But that's another story.

Another Day

Henry's in the next room, in bed, supposed to be falling asleep. He's evidently singing himself a lullaby:

"Get your booty on the floor..."

Yesterday we had the missionaries over for dinner. It was a lot of fun, they ate my food and liked it (either that or they were really, really hungry) and gave us a nice gospel message. Then Ben entertained them by playing some Metallica and stuff on his guitar. I got a phone call just as they were leaving, but I noticed they both had their cameras out and were taking pictures of the slightly deteriorating pumpkin on the front porch. I went to see why. One of those huge North American Cockroaches (or Palmetto bug) was crawling right into Jack O'Lantern's moldy nose. Blecch. Yuck.

This is Jack as of ten minutes ago. I was hoping he'd hang on long enough to shoot this weekend, but I think it's dumpster time.


Today I did some more volunteer work at Henry's school. Mostly it was stuff for the upcoming book fair, and cutting out about a hundred circles out of card stock. Too bad the die cutter there didn't have a big enough circle. My thumb is still sore on that first knuckle from the scissors. Oh, well. I got to deliver some stuff to Henry's class. On the way down the hall a teacher exclaimed, "I thought you were one of the students."

That means I'm either way too short or that I look pretty dang good for my age (until you get too close, apparently). I think I'll go with the youthful angle.

Henry gave me a big hug and on the way back down the hall a little girl came by and said, "Hey, Henry's mom."

Man, those little kids, you just can't fool them.

Uncle Guzzle

A little while back Ben's Mee-maw retired from driving and instead of selling their old car, Pee-paw gave it to us. Some people name their cars, so if I could get anthropomorphic vibes off this car, I'd have to name it Uncle Guzzle. It's an older car, born about the time I graduated high school, a greenish-blue or bluish-green Buick Regal, is equipped with a flaky tape deck for my listening pleasure, the trunk's full of dead grass clippings from Pee-paw's million-and-one trips to the golf course, and yes, it sucks gas like there's no tomorrow. The car's only got forty three thousand miles on it for being so old, hence he's an uncle and not a grandpa. He drives okay except the shocks are a little bouncy, and the day before Pee-paw gave him to us, he accidentally clipped a concrete pole at a drive through window and knocked off the driver's side mirror, so that's taped on for now, and the front driver's side wheel rim is bent a little. And two days ago I found out the fuel gauge is off, the hard way.

Of course, the hard way. It's always got to be the hard way.

About two minutes from my house, just as I was reaching the midpoint of a four lane bridge over a highway, even though the fuel gauge said I was okay, Uncle secretly sucked his last drop of fuel and conked off, leaving me stranded. Luckily for me some construction guys were doing some surveying on the bridge and helped me get the car into the median. Since the fuel gauge was off, I had no idea what the problem was, so I got a lift home from my heroes in reflective orange vests and prepared to call a tow truck. Then on a whim I grabbed the gas can from the basement and walked back to see if Uncle was just thirsty.

It never ceases to amaze me how many people will not move over when they see someone stranded in the median of the road trying to pour gas into their car. Thanks, guys, for respecting my life enough to give twelve whole inches between me and two tons of steel flying by at forty-five miles an hour.

So I didn't die, and Uncle Guzzle had enough to get me to the gas station a quarter mile up the road.

Yes, I do look ridiculous driving a big green boat. But it was a free car. And free is free. I can't complain about free. But I would like to fix it up a little, put in a new stereo, some cool hydraulics, maybe put on a few flame decals. Ben probably won't let me. I mean, we're still driving it with the side mirror taped on.

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.