Weekend Excursion

This past weekend Henry and I took a little vacation. A few old friends from back in my missionary days were having a get-together and since I received a direct invitation, I figured I'd better go. Yeah, such a hard decision, let me tell you. I wanted Ben and Henry to come, too, so I could show them off, but Ben was adamant that he remain at home. Number one, he hates to fly, and two, he hates to spend. I convinced him to let me take Henry because otherwise he's have to get Henry ready for school Friday and Monday, be there when he got home from school, plus entertain him for the weekend, etc. Besides that, Henry's never flown before (if you don't count the business trip I took when I was about five months pregnant), and it was a great opportunity for him to see where I served my mission. Happily the combination of benefits for Henry and benefits for Ben were worth the expense of an extra plane ticket.

Poor Ben. A week before we were set to fly out, Ben's boss called after he got home Friday night and told him he had to be in Minnesota on Monday, so Ben ended up having to fly after all. He got home late Thursday but I didn't get to talk to him until after ten because two of his bosses called him at the same time right when he got home and kept him on the phone for half an hour-- he actually had to hold two phones to his ears. He was so beat, it really was a good thing he had the weekend to himself to recuperate.

Henry and I had to fly out Friday morning at six, so that meant getting up at 3:30 a.m. A crazy mix of excitement, anticipation, and Ben's snoring kept me awake so that I got a grand total of one hour of sleep that night. I figured I could get some sleep on the plane; little did I know how grossly I underestimated Henry's ability to prevent such an occurrence. After all the questions he asked from Raleigh to Houston, it was the inane high pitched nonsense songs the entire duration of the flight from Houston to Salt Lake City. After a while, though, Henry got really bored. Somewhere over Colorado he threatened to jump out of the plane. I was as tired of him being bored as I was being tired. No matter, once we landed I was stoked. Kiki and Angela picked us up from the airport and took us out to eat. Then Kiki loaned me a car and we went down to Aniesa's. We had just enough time to get there (I only had to make one extra phone call to actually find her house) and we loaded up in a van to go to Chuck E. Cheese's. I told Henry beforehand we would be going, and so he was under the impression that the whole purpose for our trip to Utah was so that he could go to Chuck E. Cheese's-- never mind that we have one in Raleigh. Afterward he told me, "Mom, I had so much fun at Chuck E. Cheese's."

Saturday we went to Audrey's where everybody else was meeting. We ordered food from this place called Cafe Rio. I ordered a cheese quesadilla because I knew Henry wouldn't eat anything else from there, but Angela refused to let me eat a quesadilla when there were better things to be had, so she ordered me a salad-- it was delicious and I'm eternally grateful she did, because the quesadilla turned out to be meh. It was so good to see everybody and catch up and share so much laughter. I have a hard time expressing in words my gratitude for the enduring friendships I gained while serving at Temple Square. It actually gets me all emotional and sniffy to think about it. Suffice it to say, I love love love all of the women I served with and being able to reconnect with them, even via the internet, means the world to me.

The only bad thing I can say about the trip that I wished I'd more time to visit everyone I wanted to see. I wanted to see everyone, of course.

Since we were running short on time, on Sunday instead of going to church I took Henry for a visit to Temple Square. It was cold and gray, and we were lucky that it held off on raining while we were there. I wanted him to get the feel of what I did as a missionary, so I snagged us a tour with two sisters. While they showed us around we chatted and I shared my general experience at Temple Square during my own mission. So much has been renovated, rearranged and changed that it was almost like walking in a dream, and a little sad because the sisters there now are not the ones I knew and loved. Sad to think I wouldn't ever be able to revisit the garden room and check the mailbox for letters from home-- the garden room is gone. Oh, well. Change is good most of the time. One thing's the same though: life is good and I'm so blessed, and my testimony of Jesus Christ is as strong as ever.

Well. Now that I'm done emoting, here's my favorite photo:

I love how Henry's sneaky expression was caught just as he was trying to ruin the photo.

And one more:

If you look carefully you can see Henry wandering around the reflecting pool in front of the temple.

Can't wait to do it again.

I seriously have nothing to blog about. So I'll bore you with a short anecdote.

The other day I commented on a friend's Facebook status update. Said friend had just received a jury duty notice. I bragged that I'd gotten out of jury duty six years previous because of a new baby. I also noted that I'd probably cursed myself by admitting that.

Two days later I received my notice of jury duty in the mail.

I'm not superstitious. Even so, I'm not telling anyone how long it's been since I've given a talk at church.

Happy Easter

This weekend we had a fun time at Grandma and Papaw's house. It was sunny and warm, a completely beautiful Easter, I got in most of the General Conference sessions, got in a kayak ride, and I got to make fun of the New Moon movie. I had an awesome lunch of grilled chicken, potato salad, baked beans, deviled eggs, black olives, and a slice of blueberry pie... I might have had another slice of pie, but it was all gone by the time my stomach digested enough food to make room for one more. Oh, well.

Me and Mom, making pies:


And all six grandkids, post Easter egg hunt:

Adventures in Plumbing

Yesterday Maggie and Wesley came over and while Henry was in school we ran some errands. While we were out I bought a couple of perennials for the front of the house. They're blue and smell nice and for the life of me I can't remember what they're called. Anyway, now that Henry's busily occupied in school and I finally have some free time and energy, I've started trying to get our yard in better shape. For some reason, all the bushes on the right side of the house have died off, one at a time, over the last six years. This year, after removing the last dead bush, I planted a couple of hydrangeas and am hoping they will live long enough to at least flower one day. Maggie and I put in the perennials and then we dug up some errant hostas and replanted them over where the dead bush used to be. Earlier I planted some flower and herb seeds, but Wesley ran across the flower bed with a rake, so now I have very little hope of success on that front. I guess we'll just have to wait and see how things turn out.

Today I was feeling productive and decided it was time to fix the leaky bathroom sink. Ben grumbled and moaned but I got him into the spirit of things. We went to the home improvement store and picked up a new drain pipe/sink stopper combo and returned home to get to work. Demolition of the drain pipe was interesting. Ben unscrewed the pipes and then uttered some horrified gibberish and sent me for a bucket. The smells that emanated from the bathroom were unpleasant much in the same way sewer gas or rotting animal carcasses are unpleasant. The culprit appeared to be a big hunk of mold in the pipe. I spent a good ten minutes scrubbing slimy black mold off the sink while Ben cleaned the pipe out with the garden hose outside.

All I had plans for was repairing the drain, but Ben wanted to fix the leaky faucet while we were at it. In the process of removing some vital part of the faucet, he managed to bend it, so we were going to have to replace the entire plastic ball chunk (I have no idea what that part is called). So we Lysoled the bathroom and left it to air out while we went looking for sink parts. Unfortunately, the faucet was some ancient twenty-year-old off-brand job, so there was nothing at either Lowe's or Home Depot we could use. That meant we had to buy a new faucet. Ben picked out a cheap replacement and I suggested we get some new hoses to hook up the hot and cold water, but Ben thought we could use the old copper hook ups. When we got back home and got the old faucet off, we found out the old pipes were soldered on. So I went back out for the hoses. Together Ben and I swapped out the faucets and with minimal rage fits got the stopper and drain all fixed. Then when we tested everything, the drain started leaking.

While Ben was busy getting ticked off I asked him, "You didn't put teflon tape on the pipe like I said, did you?"

Ben took the drain apart again and taped the pipe thread, put everything back together and it worked beautifully.

The finished product:


It's nice to know that even though Ben and I tend to screw some things up and get angry and yell before things get properly repaired, at least we've learned enough so that next time something breaks we'll know how to fix it with slightly less mistakes and yelling.

I'm thinking the next thing to break will probably be the dishwasher. That'll be a real adventure, I'm sure.

Reemerging from the Chrysalis

If said chrysalis were a comforter on the couch, then yeah. Finally I'm feeling better after a bout with clogged sinuses and a pesky cough.

This past weekend Henry and I went to visit family. Ben stayed home because he was sick. We went to Mom and Dad's first to spend the night.

For a while Mom and Dad have been sans pets, which made their house seem weird and a little lonely to me. Then this winter a sickly half-grown kitten showed up at their door, so Mom took pity on it and took it to the vet. At the vet's the receptionist asked the cat's name.

Dad replied, "Dumb ugly cat." Dad's not one for harboring any feline affection.

Dumb Ugly Cat (Mom calls her Kitty) is one of those tortoiseshell cats, the kind that look like what would happen if you inadvertently washed a load of clothes with three or four different colored tabby cats. She's cute in a hideous way, but her ugliness is more than eclipsed by an affectionate nature. Anyway, when they first got her she had to stay inside because she was sick. When we came on Saturday I was surprised that she still had free run of the house. I thought maybe Dad was getting soft in his old age, but it turns out that Dad's new dog, Red, thinks Dumb Ugly Cat would make a nice snack and has to be chained if the cat is outside.

Saturday the weather was so nice that Henry and I decided to talk a walk on the trail through the woods. Accompanying us was Red. This was our first time meeting Red. If I didn't think Dad would miss him terribly and Ben would kill me, I'd have seriously considered taking him home with me. I'm a sucker for big floppy eared hunting dogs, and Red is a cheerful, laid back guy that didn't jump on me, lick my face, or bark like mad when we arrived (like a certain mutt in residence at Meemaw and Peepaw's house). After we got nice and muddy on our walk (the ground was saturated from the rain) I took Henry for a ride in one of the kayaks. Red really wanted to come, too, but he settled for running around the pond. It really surprised me that he didn't go after the ducks. I guess cats look more appetizing, or at least easier to catch.

That night since my nieces were staying the night, Henry and I shared a bed. Henry's a bed hog and a snuggler, so I got maybe four hours of uninterupted sleep. And woke up with a cold. Dad made us breakfast and Maggie called and asked if I was still coming to church with her in in Greensboro. It was eight and her church starts at nine, I was still unbathed and half through with breakfast, but I said okay. I didn't exactly rush to get ready, but I knew Maggie was going to be late, too. I neglected to bring church shoes, so instead of wearing my sneakers, I borrowed a pair of shoes from Mom. I tried on a pair of brown Mary Janes and Dad commented that they looked like something I'd wear (I suspect he hates those shoes) and so I traded them for something I'd never wear, a pair of black high heeled zip up boots. "For the shock value," I told him.

We only arrived forty five minutes late for church, just in time to hear the last speaker, because I took a wrong highway and had to back track, had to take a detour because of a closed exit ramp, went the wrong way on a street, and missed a turn and had to circle back. The whole time Henry kept encouraging me to go the wrong way because he didn't want to go to church. When we took our place next to Maggie (me strutting like a drunk hooker in those boots), she told me she'd only gotten there fifteen minutes before. I like Maggie's church because there's this old guy there who, when Maggie and I were probably fifteen or so, went on a hike with a bunch of us on an overnight hike to Uwharrie National Forest. At the campsite we'd gone to the neighboring creek and caught a few crayfish. He still remembers that day like it was yesterday and always remembers me and asks if I've caught any crawdads lately. I love that guy.

After church I helped Maggie make Wesley's birthday cake. He turned two that day and Maggie wanted his cake to be cool. She's a lot more ambitious than me. Luckily she'd already baked the cake and cut it such that it reasonably resembled the shape of a fish. The icing didn't turn out quite the right shade of orange, and because it was really moist, composed of pudding and whipped cream, the black icing we used bled a little. Well, honestly it looked like Nemo got bleached at the water treatment plant and bled from the eyes. Maggie said he was crying because he missed his dad. The cake tasted fine though. Mom and Dad, Beth and her kids, Avdo's family and a bunch of other people came over and we all ate and had a good time. Because I'd never had any before, I decided to try a piece of Bosnian smoked cheese. And because I'm a jerk, I made Mom try a piece, too. Well, I didn't make her, I just pestered her until she gave in. Since my nose was clogged, I'm not sure I got the full effect, but there was no mistaking the dominant flavor.

"Tastes like a campfire," I said. It really did. The cheese itself was firm and dry, a little crumbly, but all I could taste was the smoke. And I tasted the smoke for a long while after. Mom did, too. I don't think she's going to take any of my suggestions from now on. That reminds me, I got her a copy of Hunger Games for Christmas. I bet she never reads it now.

I'm Liking the Warm Weather, But it Makes Me Stupid

Saturday was a warm lazy day. Ben wasn't feeling great so I took Henry with me to get the oil changed in Ben's car. I think there's some kind of weird correlation between good weather and Ben feeling ill, because he always seems sick when it's nice out, never when it's rainy. Anyway, we went to the Chick-Fil-A to grab lunch and kill time while the car was in the shop. Henry wolfed down his nuggets and hurried to the playroom. I sat in there to watch him play. The playroom has this big playhouse thing with tiered platforms leading up to little rooms and slides and stuff. Henry really likes it but he's got a little bit of a fear of heights, so getting the courage to climb up to the slide takes him a while sometimes. The last time he had no problems, but this time he'd regressed somewhat and wouldn't go up past the third "step," spending a lot of time mostly running around and watching other kids go up. He was nervous about the stability of the structure, but I helped him understand that it was very sturdy and that he couldn't possibly fall off. I gently encouraged him to try one step at a time, to see if he could get up to the fourth step and gradually he made it up to the slide level. He wouldn't go any higher to the rooms on top, but he went up to the slide again and again. He counted each time he went up and was very pleased when he'd done it ten times. After a while some more kids came in to play, including a little girl who was afraid to climb up the platforms. Henry very sweetly told her that he'd been afraid, too, but he wasn't anymore and offered to help her up. She need more convincing that Henry could give, but I thought it was nice of him anyway.

I like seeing Henry's personal successes. A couple weekends ago he went to a friend's birthday party at a community center. All the kids were given plastic kites and Henry really wanted to fly his. With very minimal help from me, he assembled the kite and took off with it. Moments later I was very surprised to see him running around the circumference of the room, his kite flying high about an inch below the ceiling, the long red tails rippling behind. He had such a happy, triumphant look on his face that I just sat there and grinned.

Yesterday Ben sloughed work (he took a personal day) because he was tired and not feeling well. I let him sleep in and went quietly (as quietly as I could anyway) about my day. He got up around noon and I made us some grilled cheese sandwiches. After lunch we went for a nice long walk through the neighborhood. It was a warm sunny day and it was really nice to have some time alone with Ben. I enjoyed the warm weather so much that after Henry got home from school I took him to the park. We were about halfway to our destination before I noticed that Henry had forgotten his helmet. Oh, well. A little extra precaution ensured that he didn't fall off and split his head open. At the park Henry ditched his bike with me and went to make some new friends. We finished the day with a family outing to the library and that night Henry read one of my all time favorites, Bears in the Night.

Today was another beautiful day. I cheerfully sent Henry off on the bus and then went over to his school to do some busy work. Said busy work included cutting different shapes out of colored paper. I eventually got the die cutter to work and got some hexagons made, finished some little rectangles, and was moving on to big rectangles, when my happy spring-feverish brain drifted off to stupidville. I was rearranging the paper on the paper cutter and switched hands to hold up the cutting blade, when I noticed somewhat belatedly that I'd grabbed the blade arm not by the handle, but by the blade itself. Whoops. The blade slid right through the skin between my thumb and forefinger. It was with some disgust and shock that I noticed that I could see all the way through the severed flap of skin to the tissue below and decided it might benefit me to see a doctor, for just in case. Luckily there was someone there today who had some bandaids in her purse and the school nurse hooked me up with some gauze, an icepack and a latex glove so I wouldn't bleed all over my car. Not that the cut was spouting blood or anything. It just looked really nasty, and to my chagrin, nauseating to me. The school nurse had me sit for a little bit "until I got some color in my face." I think I'm usually white as death anyway, but the thought of me fainting over so trivial an injury amused me. I drove myself down to a walk in clinic, pleased that my old gas-guzzling grandpa-mobile really came in handy, no pun intended, since because it's an automatic, I didn't have any trouble driving with one hand. I did have to wait seemingly forever and a day, though, before my hand was inspected and taped up. As a precaution I got a tetanus shot as well.

And now, though I really want to go outside and ready the flower beds, I've got to stay inside and keep my hand clean and dry.

Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss

Today, even though it was cold and damp and perfect for staying inside wrapped in a fuzzy blanket reading a book, I decided to go volunteer at Henry's school. I like that the school is nice and warm. Ben likes to keep our house at 67. Brr. I'd like him to keep it at 67 in the summer, but no such luck. So I stayed warm while I cut out laminated stuff. Then because I ran out of stuff to do and it was only nine, I went over to the media center and shelved two carts of books. Little did I know that this little act of extra effort would result in me idiotically freezing my butt off.

Usually I shelve books on Wednesdays. But today is Tuesday. So when I got home I thought it was Wednesday. On Wednesdays school lets out an hour early, for the teachers to plan stuff, apparently. Anyway, that wouldn't have made a difference in the world, except that Henry had a substitute bus driver this morning. Henry's regular bus driver drops him off in front of the house in the afternoons. The sub drops him off at the bus stop down the street. So, me thinking it's Wednesday, I went out to the bus stop and stood in the rain/snow/sleet windfest and waited almost twenty minutes before my stupid brain bought a clue. An hour later I was back out there, but I only had to wait ten minutes before the bus finally showed up.

It's pretty lame when all I have to blog about is pertaining to me being not smart.

So I'll mention that it's Dr. Seuss' birthday. Henry's favorite Dr. Seuss book is Green Eggs and Ham. I like Fox in Socks, just for the part about the Tweedle Beetle Battle. I like the evil sadistic look on their faces when they sock each other with paddles. After Fox in Socks it's definitely the Sleep Book.

Now I think I'm ready for a nap, buried under a pile of warm blankets.

A Party and a Little Productivity

Last Saturday we postponed Henry's birthday party because of the snow. I guess we could've had the party anyway, since the snow was pretty much melted by the afternoon. Oh, well. We had the party this morning, instead. I got a late start on planning the party last week, so I didn't bother with invitations, but just invited Henry's friends via email or the phone. I didn't really pay attention to the actual number of kids coming until I started making treat bags. Not all the kids could make it, but the ones that did made it a real fun party for Henry. There were eleven kids running all over the place, but I thought it was fun. They mostly played in Henry's room, but I got them organized long enough for them to play pin the tail on the donkey. Our neighbors came with their son, which was nice because Ben and I got to have some grown-up conversation with them, and they were a big help with lunch, passing out food and drinks. At the table the kids improvised the Happy Birthday song. I thought it was cute.



After the kids got all sugared up and sent home to their parents, another of our neighbors came over and helped us take care of that fallen tree. I stood in awe while he hopped right up into the beech tree and fearlessly climbed up to the branch that needed to be cut. Ben got out the ladder and climbed up to pass him the chainsaw. Pretty soon the dead tree was down and chopped up enough so that Ben and I could put the fence back up. Now all we've got to do is get the rest of the tree chopped up and moved.

Now I feel completely justified in being a lazy slob for the rest of the weekend.

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.