March 14, 2005

this is sooooo haaaard!

Okay, I’ll admit it: I read the NY Times article on parenting blogs, and then read the actual blogs, and thought, hey I can do that! These folks are just writing about their days, right? How hard can it be?

Hard. Very hard.

Here is my approach to blogging: while I am mangling through the jungle of my day, I think about the millions of funny, thought-provoking things I will write about AS SOON AS THE KIDS ARE ASLEEP, like how Charlie has worn his bicycle helmet everywhere for two days or how the new Judith Warner book makes me weepy every time I start to read. And then everyone goes to sleep, and I sit in front of the computer with my pile of Hershy kisses and my tea, and all I can think is, oh, shit, I really should balance the checkbook.

And I find that I have nothing funny or thought-provoking to say.

Today, especially, I’ve got nothing. Today is Day Three of Spring Break (Henry’s last day of school was Wednesday, of LAST week; Charlie finally returned to school on Thursday, which of course was HIS last day until next Monday) and we are pretty much out of stuff to do. Yep. We’ve been reduced to watching TV and then looking on the internet to see what else is on TV.

This morning (after ninetyminutes of Playhouse Disney, which gave me time to unload and reload the dishwasher and make the beds, but NOT time to look at the newspaper or my e-mail) we thought we would do something fun: go to the cleaners, get a snack, go to the grocery. Okay, not all fun, but not too terrible, and at least AWAY FROM THE TV. And then as soon as we got to Panera, Henry had a little bit of a breakdown (if you can call screaming, You are not my mommy! at the top of his lungs a little breakdown) and so we had to come home. The best part was that all the way to the car and most of the way home he kept insisting, You won! We’re not having snack because you won! I tried to make him understand that going home, snackless and groceryless, was so not a win for me, but he just didn’t get it.* And that was at 9:15. In the morning. It’s been a long long day.

So now the boys are sleeping and I’m sitting here thinking, is this the most entertaining thing I have to write about? Yes, yes it is. This is all I’ve got today. Sorry.

I need to balance my checkbook.

*I probably should write about Henry’s baffling new insistence on winning, particularly since he talks about winning in completely inappropriate contexts (I have to wear these sweatpants to school or I don’t win! that sort of thing). But as it is also part of his irritating insistence that he can do ANYTHING (today he asserted that he could run a 10K, and then started to cry when I wouldn’t agree to register him for an upcoming local race), I’m not really sure what to say about it. I’m sure I will think of something funny and thought-provoking while I’m balancing the checkbook, though.

March 4, 2005

what I learned today

Today I learned that it would probably be safer to let my children play with steak knives than with frisbees.

Today I learned that if you say Dammit! in front of a toddler who has just kicked over your cup of Starbucks coffee, he will stalk you for the rest of the day saying, Mommy, why you say dammit?

Today I learned that if I don’t get to drink the WHOLE grande drip from Starbucks I have a very hard time putting together sentences that don’t start with the word dammit.

Today I learned that Henry is pretty good at choosing birthday presents.

Today I learned that Henry expects to be rewarded (with a gift) for doing a good job choosing a birthday present.

Today I learned that Charlie knows who Bono is.

Today I learned that not having wine in the fridge makes for a long long day with my children.

Today I learned that the words my husband loves to hear me say are, For the love of god, stop at the beer store on the way home!

Today was a good day.

she stuck it where?!?

So I did end up taking Charlie to the doctor yesterday (because I had $25.00 just burning a hole in my pocket, and I was dying to shell it out as a co-pay). He was still running a fever, and I figured it couldn’t hurt to know what specific kind of infection was causing him to burn up at six hour intervals (every time the Tylenol wore off). She checked his ears–both clear–and then gave him a throat culture, which he found pretty offensive (and I agree, having had my throat swabbed with the big Q Tip about a thousand times as a child). When that came back negative (in a mere FIVE minutes, mind you, not two days! Thank god for these advances in medical technology!), he had a flu test. Which consisted of the nurse sticking YET ANOTHER Q Tip in his nose.

The nurse was great. She zipped into the teeny tiny examining room and said, I need some snot! and whipped that Q Tip up his nose and then zipped out again. Charlie was a little shocked.

Why she put dat up my NOSE? he said, clearly offended.

Well, I said, she needs to run another test to see if you . . .

Henry! Charlie yelled. She put dat up my NOSE!

Where did she put it? Henry asked.

UP MY NOSE!

Where? Henry said, starting to laugh.

Charlie started to laugh, too. UP MY NOSE!

And they went on like this for a good five minutes, or just until the flu culture came back negative.

So we have what the doctor called a garden-variety sore throat virus. Tylenol, Triaminic, rest, fluids, yadda yadda yadda.

Today, Charlie is still running a fever.

And Henry is still saying, Charlie, where did the nurse put that thing?

And Charlie is still yelling, UP MY NOSE!

March 2, 2005

who knew luxury was so sticky?

Charlie is sick. Again. He’s been running a fever on and off since lunch time, which means he’s contagious. But since he’s not really acting like he has an ear infection or strep (god forbid), we won’t be traipsing off to the doctor (ha ha I say that now but at 3:00 am he will wake up crying and then see where I’m off to in the morning . . . )

But no school tomorrow. Again.

At dinner I said, It’s a good thing I don’t have a job.

Yeah, Wade agreed, it’s really a luxury to have you at home. [backpedal, backpedal] I mean, it’s not a luxury for you, it’s more of a stressful thing, but, you know . . .

Yes. I know. And yes, it really is a luxury, in the sense that it is an extra something that we have or do, like a vacation (only NOT like a vacation, what with the sleep deprivation and lack of personal time). And yes, I am relieved that the only thing I have to worry about when someone is sick is getting that child well, not rescheduling a meeting or finishing a project. So it does put it all in perspective.

But it’s still wierd to think about my life of poopy diapers and runny noses as luxurious . . .

the Geek Strap

I forgot to say that the biggest success of soccer practice may very well have been Henry’s Geek Strap, to hold his glasses on, because god forbid his $300.00 specs go flying off and wind up under the cleats of one of his buddies. He picked out a red one and wore it ALL DAY yesterday, and was talking about wearing to school today (I hid it, because that seemed like the right thing to do). The geek factor was toned down a bit by his ball cap, which he wears backwards (thus hiding the Geek Strap). He was truly stylin’.

March 1, 2005

this was funny even before I started drinking

Henry had his first soccer practice tonight. My friend Leslie came straight from the pediatrician’s office, where she spent an hour and half finding out that her two-year-old has pink eye and, as a precaution, should be treated like a cart at the WalMart (whatever that means–I swear that’s what the doctor told her), and she really had to pee. Fortunately, the Northside Y has bathrooms right next to the soccer field, albeit not very nice bathrooms. But still, it was a potty and Leslie was desperate.

A very long time passed (so long that the rest of us actually noticed that Leslie hadn’t come back, in between rehashing last night’s Bachlorette finale–where Jen picked NO ONE, for god’s sake! isn’t John Paul good enough for her???–and griping about Saturday’s school auction fundraiser) before Leslie reappeared–but there she was, and she was clearly flustered. She had gotten trapped in the stall and had to crawl under the door to get out.

Couldn’t you hear me? I was calling for help! she told us.

Yeah, well, we were talking and the kids were yelling and . . . we said.

And then we laughed. At her. While she was standing there. Because we love her.

I told her I would have hugged her, but since Ryan has pink eye and she had been on the floor of the icky bathroom, I would prefer to stay at arms length. I know she appreciated that.