ME: I like this castle you drew.
HIM: It’s a prison.
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Opie
(…and most of Thursday.)
Luckily, I had already written off Wednesday afternoon as non-work time, since it was a half-day of school.
Luckily, our family physician’s office is always able to get us in when we need a same-day appointment.
Luckily, Jo wheedled her way into going to a friend’s house during said appointment.
Luckily, O. did most of his remaining weekly homework in the waiting room.
Luckily, the family doctor decided to take an x-ray of O.’s hand before tweezing out the splinter in his palm.
Luckily, the orthopedic surgeon on call happened to be a hand specialist.
Luckily, Jo’s friend’s mom immediately responded with “How can I help?” when I told her that we were being sent to the hospital and that Jeff was out of town (the second thing was “Of course he is”).
Luckily, I had a toiletry bag packed so it didn’t take me long to throw together everything I needed for an overnight stay in the hospital (O. and me) and at her friend’s house (Jo).
Luckily, I had a stash of Larabars in the car, since O. wouldn’t be allowed to eat anything for the rest of the evening and therefore neither would I.
Luckily, we have a beautiful children’s hospital 5 minutes from home (where I happened to have spent some time).
Gown, bracelets, cheetah. Check, check, check.
Luckily, the boy was entirely cheerful throughout the long wait for his stomach to be empty enough for him to be sedated (this is a kid who generally turns into a raving lunatic if he doesn’t eat every 20 minutes).
Luckily, the nurses supplied a top-notch post-IV-placement “bravery prize.”
Not just a Lego set ... a Lego AIRPLANE set.
Luckily, everything went so smoothly that as soon as he opened his eyes in recovery, O. insisted that he had actually just been “fake sleeping.”
Portrait with wrapped hand and capped cheetah
Luckily, the hospital stocks parental snacks, so I got a sandwich while he enjoyed some post-op graham crackers. And luckily, the graham crackers stayed down the hatch.
Luckily, I’d grabbed an iPod when I packed our bags, so I could play his favorite bedtime music. And luckily, it did the trick in less than two songs.
Luckily, I was able to dash home the next morning to let the dog out, and she had not panicked or trashed the house while we were gone.
Luckily, this kid enjoys Tylenol about as much as his sister hates it.
Luckily, he’s going to be absolutely fine.
*”Splinter” vs. “sliver.” Discuss. I think it is the former, but everyone here seems to call it the latter.
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“I don’t want to wear jeans today. I want sports pants. I have gym.”
“On Thursday? I thought it was on Friday.”
“MOOOOMMM! YOU DON’T KNOW MY LIFE!”
He’s not even seven years old yet.
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Two pictures:
Two announcements:
“Wow, I did not expect the kindergartners to be SO small.” (This from the first grader.)
“The second day of school is always the best. Because it’s usually a Friday.” (Also the first grader. They are so wise.)
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This about sums up how I feel about leaving for BlogHer tomorrow–or really, the whole summer:
Like maybe I bit off more than I can chew.
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I. Yesterday morning Jo didn’t eat her cereal. When I asked her why, she said it smelled “like Little Dude’s cage and tasted funny.” Little Dude is the class mouse, who recently came to stay with us while his regular summer caretakers were on vacation.
(He only escaped from his rolly ball and almost got lost in our laundry room once!)
(Honestly? I kind of miss having him here. As long as you stayed downwind, it was fun to check in on him and see what he was doing. Usually, he was building himself burrows and hiding places with cedar shavings.)
(However, I was also relieved to see him go, because he’s at least two years old, and how long do pet mice live anyway?)
II. Opie made one of those paper cootie-catcher/fortune-tellers at camp. These are the fortunes in it:
- You will be a superstar.
- You are a superhero.
- You will have a trampoline.
- You will turn into a mouse.
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Over the weekend I saw some friends, one of whom has children just a bit younger than mine. I was telling them, with no small amount of enthusiasm (fatal mistake!), how nice it is that I can now stay in bed a little while after the kids get up. I believe my exact words were, “Well, O. helps himself to as much candy as he wants. But what do I care, I’m sleeping in!”
Guess where O. went yesterday? The dentist. Guess what he has? TWO HUGE CAVITIES. Matching, one on either side of his mouth on two bottom molars.
Then, when we were scheduling the two (!) appointments for the fillings, the woman at the dentist’s office said that we could choose silver, for free, or tooth-colored, for $25 each. I was thrilled. Just $50 to cover up my huge parenting #fail? Sold!
But no. When you’re six years old, and you get the chance to have shiny silver teeth? You’re totally going for it. And your mom will be stuck looking at them for three or four or five years until the tooth fairy comes for them.
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Wednesday during dinner: “NO ONE cook dinner tomorrow. I am making dinner. Breakfast for dinner!”
Thursday morning: “I want eggs for breakfast. No wait! I am making breakfast for dinner.”
Thursday after school: “For breakfast for dinner, we are having cereal and toast.”
30 minutes later: “Actually, Mom, you make the toast.”
5 minutes later: “And never mind about the cereal.”
5 minutes later: “I will be the waiter instead and bring the food to the table.”
2 minutes later: “Actually, I will just set the table. You bring the food.”
2 minutes later: “Can you bring the plates to the table and I will put them where they go?”
1 minute later: “Oh! You made chili. Good.”
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People never cease to be amazed, or at least interested, in my children’s back-to-back birthdays. I think it’s cool, too–except, most years, the week when it’s actually happening. Then, it’s too much at one time (especially the year we had one birthday party on Saturday and one on Sunday). The to-do list grows and grows, and I worry that neither birthday gets the attention it deserves.
Then again, these two have never really known different. I think they enjoy those “oh wow!” responses too. They, knock wood, are pretty good at sharing, and that goes for special days too.
(And here’s one showing how it all began.)
(Look at that! His hair hasn’t changed in six years.)
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