My Girl

L.O.V.E. this girl.

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What I Learned This Week

Strep throat can cause nausea and vomiting. 

The mere mention, the mere possibility that one of my children is going to vomit throws the others into a complete panic.  Seriously, it’s as though the house were on fire.  We’re going to have to start calling it omitvay, or arfbay so they don’t know what we’re talking about.  We’re that clever. 

There is a reason I don’t clean the floors very often.  (Okay, there is probably more than one reason.  The main one being that I am not really a big fan of cleaning the floors.  But let’s just focus on the one that makes me look less lazy.)  The reason I don’t do the cleaning is that immediately following every.single.cleaning, is a very large spill of something.  Something sticky.  Or omitvay.  Which send ME into a complete panic. 

I am unable to control myself at the greenhouse.  Un.able.  I went there with the intention of buying a few herbs yesterday, and came home with a whole lotta flowers.  The only reason I stopped when I did was because the cart was full.  I’m going back today.  I.Can’t.Help.Myself. 

I heart petunias.  I even heart the word petunias.  I’m a freak, I know.

The kids will eat anything you want them to if you pack it in a bag and tell them we’re going on an adventure and we get to eat dinner in the car. 

There is absolutely nothing for an almost-two-year-old to do at a baseball field.  Except play in the dirt.  And try to jump off the bleachers.   

There is absolutely nothing for an eight year old girl to do at a baseball field, either. 

Or a five year old boy for that matter. 

Baseball dirt (that red silty dirt) is irrisistable to children.  As are rocks.

Ella looks really, really cute with messy hair and dirt all over her face.  

The word “bath” sends Ella flying up the stairs faster than I’ve ever seen her move.  (Except when she hears the freezer open.  You know, corn is a big thing with her.) 

William has a great arm.  He can really throw the ball.  I never tire of watching that boy.  He amazes me.

And there you have it.  My week in review–vomit, petunias and baseball.  Check out more “what I learned this week” at Musings of a Housewife.

I have no idea who won the game.

This weekend was our annual pilgrimage to the ballpark.   

It was an improvement over previous years.  There were no speeding tickets.  There were no scenes made regarding sunblock application.  There were no spills and there were no stains.   

William was all about the kettle corn.  And the Pepsi.  And the playground at the ball park.  And pretty much anything besides the actual baseball game itself.  You know, the one we paid to see.

Kate didn’t throw up in the car.  (I always count that as a positive for any type of outing that involves a long-ish car ride).  And she and her friend sat to the side and giggled and paid absolutely no attention to anything that was going on. 

But Henry was still sick.  After about 30 minutes, he was drained. 

And Ella refused the sunhat. Because wearing a sunhat would be sensible when you’re a pudgey, pastey-white little redhead, and why be sensible when you’re Ella?  She sucked down a 12 oz cup of pink lemonade in about 5 minutes.  Then she pooped.  Which would not have been a big deal normally.  But when we got to the car to change her, we found that the wipes we had packed were dried up.  (Have you ever tried to clean a wriggling, poopy bottom with a dry wipe?)  Yeah.  Fat lotta good the wipes were.  It was a big hot mess.  And I mean that in the literal sense.

And then Ella managed to break The Man’s sunglasses. 

If there is one thing we’ve learned in the past eight years, five months and 19 days, it is when to cut our losses.  I think we made it through the top of the fourth inning. 

I don’t really remember anything much about the game.  Except there was sunshine…beautiful, glorious, warm sunshine. 

And there were friends.  Who have become better friends over the last year. 

And there was beer.  The good kind.  In a plastic cup.  Outside, in the sunshine.

Fun.  We had fun.

And then we left. 

Mind-numbing Nothingness

I really don’t have a lot to say today. 

I am barely able to complete a thought these days.  And I go from one task to another, in spurts, not completing anything. 

The laundry is half-folded. 

The filing is half-filed. 

The grocery list–half-purchased. 

I have managed to complete one thing, though.  I have managed to completely ignore all the cleaning I had planned for the week.  Something had to go, and really, that’s just the least attractive task on my list.

***

Today is going to be warm and sunny.  Thinking about a happy hour with friends this evening.  Thinking that would be fun.  As long as we don’t discuss school boundaries.  And as long as Henry feels better.

***

Henry wasn’t feeling better last night.  And it’s 10:00 and he’s still asleep.  Not a good sign.  I slept on the floor with him (as is our custom when one of the kids has the barfs), with a nice big barf bowl between us, just in case.  We had no barf, but just the mere possibility is enough to keep me from sleeping well. 

That, and the fact that I’m old and the floor hurts my old self.

***

School pictures came back.

Oh. My. 

All I can say kindly is Kate has a hard time with the pictures. 

And William…well…let’s just say there was an excess of product in his hair that day.  We chose picture day to try out a new product.  I think this aptly communicates our very high intelligence and also our high degree of common sense.  I can only imagine what his teacher thought.  

***

Ella has a new word.  “Boob.”  And she uses it correctly, too.  Because when I teach the children something, I teach it all the way.  My daughter cannot say ball, or cup, or please, but she can say boob.  Thank you, thank you very much.  This morning I found her standing in her crib, completely in the buff (which brings up a whole new set of concerns.)  She points and says “boob.”  That’s my girl.

***

The Man has this way of being all organized.  His socks are grouped by color in his drawer.  His shirts hang in the closet in day-of-the-week order.  He has a rotation system, y’all (we feed each other’s neurotic tendencies).  When things are stressful around here like they are right now, my thoughts turn to ways to bother The Man. 

I’m really mature that way. 

I think of things like switching around the shirt order to freak him out.  Or mismatching his socks and see if he notices before he gets to work.   

One time I ate all the ice cream and put the container back in the freezer filled with rocks.  Imagine his surprise when he went for his midnight snack.  Oh, c’mon, you know you’re laughing at that one.  That was just funny.

Today, he may get a voice mail from the Wiggles.  Maybe “I Am a Dancer” or “Fruit Salad.” 

***

Well, that’s about it.  Thank God it’s Friday…

What Are You People Looking For, Anyway?

So I’m kind of analyzing my traffic.  I always find it interesting to see what people are looking for and how they end up here in my spot. 

I’ve done this before, and frankly, the results were disturbing.  I understand that my content is what is driving the results and thrusting you good people at me.  But seriously, ”black booger in child?”  Really?  I mentioned that like one time.  Can we just let it go?

And for another thing, why are people running searches on black boogers in children? 

What exactly is it that you want to know about a black booger? 

For the life of me I can’t figure that out. 

Moving right along…

So.  (If I had a drum, you’d be gettin’ a roll right now…) Here are the top five results of my latest search engine terms:

-no small thing (well okay, that one makes sense.  Does this mean that people are actually looking for me?!)

-dirty socks (it’s still there.  I will never outrun it, I guess.) 

-language sample (Okay, again, this one makes sense.  Good.  On the right track.)

-barbie, or some variation of it, including naked barbie, barbie parts, barbie heads and barbies without heads.  Oh, and let’s not forget ‘disfigured barbie’.  You people are sick.  (And all because of one, albeit one entertaining, photo).

-freckles.  (Because I love freckles.)

So what have I learned from this? 

Well, it seems the level of sophistication of my reader pool is not so much improving as it is shifting.  Shifting from physically gross (no offense to those of you with the black boogers or the sweaty socks), to downright creepy.  

And that perhaps–just perhaps– I may want to adjust my blog fodder.  Like, no more booger talk.

And a question arises.  Why are so many people searching “dirty socks?”  I mean, it’s number two on my all time search terms. 

So people are looking for dirty socks. 

Well, maybe not dirty socks, per se… 

Are y’all trying to figure out how to wash them?  If so, soak ‘em in a little borax and cold water, then normal wash.  Problem solved.   

You’re welcome.

Oh, and whoever you are out there looking for “punishment with socks,” I think you need to seek help.  That just doesn’t sound good, on any level.

Poor Little Henry

Five days of fever. 

Fever gone.

Today, barf.

Poor little boy…

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On Being a Responsible Parent, Which Clearly, I Am Not.

One would think that having been a mother of a hard of hearing child for nearly 3 1/2 years, that I would be more, shall we say, responsible where the hearing aids are concerned.  Especially when the hearing aids belong to a five year old boy.

Yes.  One would think.

One would think that when I am frustrated with the repeating and repeating and repeating of questions, answers and statements all weekend long, that I would think to listen to the hearing aids that my 5 year old little boy wears.

One would think.

One would think that rather than be frustrated with my five year old little boy (who doesn’t seem to be hearing me correctly) that I would investigate the reason, rather than become frustrated with a little boy.  Who can’t hear me. 

One would think.

But not me.

For I am rare.

I became frustrated.  

And told him all weekend, “you need to listen better, Henry.”

To be fair, I did check the batteries. 

And I even cleaned out his ears really well.  They were pretty clean to begin with.  (Just thought I’d throw that in there.) 

Sooo.  On to the troubleshooting section of the hearing aid brochure.  (I love the troubleshooting section of things.)

Apparently the “wind and weather” protectors on hearing aids are not to be ingnored.   

The wind and weather protectors on Henry’s hearing aids had become so clogged that very little sound was getting through to the microphone.  

Oh, and by reading the brochure, I found that they should be changed every few months.  Alrighty then. 

It has been two years.  Mm-hm.

Nice.  Very nicely done, Mom.

A responsible parent listens to the hearing aids daily to make sure there isn’t a problem. 

You know, like a reduction in clarity.  Or decreased output.  Or whistling.

Maybe I should try that.

What I Would Tell Her

I heard from a friend today that she is (unexpectedly and unhappily) pregnant with her fourth child. 

And I remember a time, not so long ago, when I found myself in the same position. 

I worried about money, I worried about time.  I worried about being exhausted all the time.  I worried that I didn’t have enough sanity left within me to handle one more.   I worried about my older children.  I worried that I would miscarry.  Again.

And this baby just wasn’t on my schedule people.   

It didn’t take long for me to put the very real concerns and cares aside though, and begin to appreciate the fact that we were, indeed, going to be a family of six.  For the first time in all my pregnancies, I fell deeply in love with that baby, well before she was born.

And oh, those first few days of having Ella…the smell of her…

The tiny fingers that unfurled at my touch…

The baby breath…

The absolute helplessness and the way she needed me and only me.

And as she grew, there were fat little legs

and cheeks

and feet

and hands with those dimples.

There was the first time she said Mama…

and even still, hearing her say it melts me into a puddle of mushy love for that little girl.

And there are those red gossamer curls

and those big blue eyes.

And a baby girl who is becoming a little girl

who won’t wear a bib

or a bow.

But one who likes bonnets

and clickety-clackety shoes.

A little girl who will not let me hold her hand up the stairs

or down the stairs

or in the parking lot

or in the street.

A little girl that sucks on bags of frozen peas (I have no idea…).

And calls herself “baby.”

And a child that has perfected the “camera smile.”

She has spunk, this one does.

She has me wrapped around her little finger.

I can’t imagine my life without her.

Words fall so painfully short of expressing my love for her… 

I want to tell my friend that everything will be fine.  In fact, it will be more than fine. 

I want to tell her how much she will love her new baby.

But I know that she will find out for herself soon enough.

Hokie Unity

Two years ago today, an unimaginable tragedy struck our campus.  It was an act perpetrated by a coward, who sought to steal something from us.  What he did, in fact, was show the world that we will never break.  We will prevail.  And we will do so with the support of the world.

The following is a post from TechSideline.com.  I have kept it for the last two years because it spoke volumes to me about people, and how they pull together in the face of the unspeakable.  Even those that purport to hate us in ordinary times.  Hokies felt connected to each other, but we also felt connected to the entire state of Virginia (even those nasty wahoos), the schools in the ACC, the United States of America, the world.  

Tech Sports News

Thoughts From Our “Rivals” by TechSideline.com The events of this week didn’t leave us any time — or inclination — to put together a typical TSLMail this week, so we thought we would focus on the support provided by Virginia Tech’s “rivals” during this difficult time. There was a huge outpouring of support on the TSL message boards and email this week from fans and alumni of other universities. A lot of it came from schools who have recently played Virginia Tech in football or will soon play them in football … or both. Quite a few LSU fans showed up to express condolences, as did Auburn fans (Sugar Bowl 2004), Clemson fans, and even some Alabama fans (from the 1998 Music City Bowl clash — TSL’s GM, Will Stewart, was interviewed by ESPN radio in Mobile, Alabama, by a show host who normally concentrates on Alabama Crimson Tide sports and who referenced that 1998 Music City Bowl as the reason he respected VT.) Colorado and Colorado State fans stopped by, because the VT tragedy resonated with them, due to the Columbine shootings years ago. They consoled us and warned us about the media coverage. (They were right about that.) Texas A&M fans came by and emailed in large numbers, because Virginia Tech and Texas A&M “get” each other, more so than perhaps any two other schools in the country. There is a special bond and respect between A&M and VT, even though the two schools haven’t played football in four years and aren’t scheduled to do so again. The bond arises from mutual respect earned during the 2002 and 2003 A&M/VT clashes. And of course, there are the Cavaliers from the University of Virginia. The support shown in Charlottesville and on TheSabre.com has been remarkable. So we present to you two posts made on our boards this week by Virginia fans. These were among the better, more heartfelt posts we saw. They weren’t the only ones, of course, and they may not even be “the best.” But we liked them, and we grabbed them when we saw them. We close out a difficult week with heartfelt thoughts from the other side. Subject: You were AMAZING today… Posted by: Hoo_ville on Tue Apr 17 2007 9:39:34 PM Message: I can’t tell you how proud I was to see you chanting “Let’s Go Hokies” during the convocation today. I am a fervent Hoo and like all of us over the country, my heart couldn’t be heavier. Many of my great friends went to VT and I have even filled up some seats at Scott Stadium with Hokie friends over Hoo coworkers because they were, well, my friends. In fact, the last time you came to Charlottesville, I was in the bar with them by halftime. It was a chance to not care about anything in the world but fun and great people. Its funny to hear the reporters ask dumb questions like “Will the Hokies recover?” Obviously they don’t know about Virginia Tech. You can take the large mega state colleges, the pristine ivy leagues, and the elite private schools; but even the Hoos know that you will be hard pressed to find fans any prouder of their school than those draped in orange and maroon. VT posters keep thanking us on thesabre.com for the support, but we should be thanking you for allowing us to share in your rebuilding. I see students handling questions from merciless reporters with tremendous poise. I tear up just seeing the images on television. Today, I wore my orange sweater, and kept my office door shut because I didn’t want people seeing my eyes well up every time I clicked online for coverage. And when I watched your service today, one fact was more impressive than the pedigree of the speakers, the words in the messages, or the masses of media clamoring in from the world: You started the service standing up for your leader and you ended the service shouting for your school. There goes that Hokie pride that never, ever waivers. Ever. “We will prevail, we will prevail, we will prevail.” Damn right you will. This one’s from TheSabre…. Subject: The Hokie Culture Posted by: Hoo on Wed Apr 18 2007 8:52:34 AM Message: One thing has become crystal clear in this tragedy: their collective culture has made them uniquely prepared to emerge from this as strong as ever. And thank God. In “peacetime”, the Tech unity always confused me. I’ve never met a Tech grad who wasn’t demonstrative about his or her alma mater. My brother-in-law — at 40 — drives the 5 hours or so for every home football game, flies to every bowl game, and travels to many road games. At a colleague’s house (female, also 40ish), it seemed like every household item was maroon or orange. Blankets, rugs, cups, etc., etc. Every Tech grad in my neighborhood always has a flag out. School spirit is WAY greater than at most other schools. Contrast: I was a rabid Wahoo during my undergrad and grad years. Never missed a football, basketball, lax or soccer game. I’m enormously proud of my degrees. But I have… let’s see… a UVa sweatshirt, a UVa soccer T, and a UVA lax T. Now, I keep close track of the soccer and lax teams, but little else. People can know me for years without the subject coming up. Obviously there are many rabid Wahoo fans here on this board, but out of my friends, I’d say I’m fairly typical. And the same goes for my non-UVa friends. In the Post today, they talked about the “be-true-to-your-school chauvinism and clubby rituals” and the “ridiculous sense of unity”. Why the big difference? What is it about the Tech experience that forges this identity? It can’t be the campus– it’s a very nice campus, but there are plenty of beautiful campuses that don’t spawn that sense of identity. It can’t be the population or demographics — whatever differences between Tech and UVa populations there once were have largely vanished in the last few decades. Is it the geographic remoteness? Are other remote schools similar? What is handed down from student to student that accounts for this culture? Let me be clear — I’ve never viewed it as a great positive. But now, when an almost unimaginable tragedy has hit the community, I’m hugely, hugely grateful that those kids have that sense of unity to help pull them through. Hokies — you’re much bigger than this tragedy. Continue to be strong, and know that everyone in Virginia is pulling for you.

 

Stand proud Hokies…we have prevailed.

Easter Bonnet

She loved her bonnet.  And she even wore her gloves for a while. 

But best of all were the clickety- clackety little black patent leather shoes.

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