Cerulean Pangolin

( Progress since Saturday, cut as I know this is booooooring. I'm only recording to keep myself motivated. )

Is it wrong that while my parents were here for Thanksgiving week I had them help me prepare the house for Christmas? I love my folks! Dad and I installed three new towel bars in the guest bath in a high row above the existing three (which makes one for my kids to share and one each for the five adults potentially staying here).

Mom and I got the basement picked up and mostly organized. Some work remains on that, but that will involve straigtening the storage room to move some bulky toys into (barn, dollhouse, perhaps the play kitchen). The kids have been instructed to make sure the basement stays nice; they may play down there but with one bin of toys at a time and it is picked up and put away before anything else is taken out. Which, you know, should always be the rule but they have a habit of grand games that involve multiple things at a time and get interupted before finishing and so things stay out and next thing you know it looks like a disaster area again.

I have some ideas on desserts to pre-make now, which I shall list lest I forget:
chocolate chip cookies
sin bars
no-bake orange balls
pumpkin spice bars
peanut butter fingers

I need to make progress on the rest of my to-do list. Goals for this week:
Begin de-clutter of house
Mail Hans his big pile o' books
Get rid of old buffet table (maybe also high chair and toddler bed)
Pester family to find out when they are arriving
Check into boarding the cat
Remind Kendall to decide how to pipe music to living room

Declutter is the most arduous task, and requires breaking down by room/area. I'm going to list them so I can see how many hot spots there are to know how many to tackle per week to get us to Xmas:
Foyer table
Coat closet
Shoe closet (yes, we have two hall closets and one is primarily for shoes)
My desk
Low shelves in family room
Kitchen clutter counters
Kid craft area
Dining room rock table
Living room table
Guest room table
Laundry room
My dresser top (less important)
Kids bookshelf (less important)

That's um, 13 areas. I have 4 weeks until Xmas, but perhaps 3 until people arrive. So, four areas a week, or so. Should be doable around regular chores of dishes and laundry as long as I keep up with everything.

Time to get off the computer and get busy!

Decided my kids were old enough to see Shrek finally. They are now playing Dragon and Donkey, cause M thought the best park was the pretty pink dragon who fell in love with the donkey.

I really need to post more, but generally what I think about posting is either a short rant that really doesn't need posting, or a longer more thoughtful post which will get interupted while I'm working on it and by the time I get back to it I don't feel like finishing it anymore.

But today you get a short non-rant post, woot.

We're having a girl. After a couple weeks of thought we have a potential name, first and middle. I think I'd feel more definite about it, but the first name has a bit too much of a princessy-high-maintenance type of sound to it, and I'm hoping to avoid having another child like that (not that the name will make the personality...). The middle name is nice and earthy and I like it better, but it doesn't work to flip the order of the names (sounds quite wrong the other way around), and it's a more common name which we're trying to avoid because of our last name.

So, I'm maybe 90% sure of this name, but open to something better coming along.

Tamiflu is expensive! $90 for the 5-day course of it.  Regardless of that, I'm happy to have it in hand (and in body!).

Hubby came down with the swine flu last night.  Lovely to discover at 6 am after sharing the bed all night.  I'd previously been avoiding reading much about it, but went and looked up data on WebMD which made it sound quite dire for pregnant women (much higher risk for severe flu and death was mentioned).  The site mentioned taking anti-virals either as a preventative or at the first signs of it for people in high risk categories such as pregnant women.  I put a call into my OB but never heard back -- I suspect he was out all day and I could have called and talked to a diff doc in the practice but wasn't that motivated by the time I realized I wasn't likely to hear from him at all.

I also sent an email to my mom's group to inquire if anyone knew the local availability of the anti-virals, because I've read that elsewhere in the country it can be hard to find (and it was too early to call a pharmacy for a direct answer); we've had much discussion over where to get the vaccine locally but no mention of this before.  The consensus is they are available here for adults, which is good to know and which I confirmed for myself once pharmacies were open.  I was happy to get those emails. 

On the other hand, I quickly grew tired of the emails informing me that Docs aren't prescribing it for the general population, just for those in the high risk category.  I know it's my own fault for not explaining in my original email why I was inquiring, but I felt like everyone was trying to tell me I wasn't special enough to get it and didn't feel like emailing each one back to say yes indeed I am special, thank you for doubting me.  I did finally send out an email tonight to summarize what people said (the replies were to me individually, not to the group) and then explained why I'd asked.


I'm hoping that keeping the husband quarantined to our room/bathroom, with much washing of hands/Purell when bringing him food/drink, will keep me or the kids from catching it -- assuming I didn't get it last night.  Time will tell.

The problem with showing my children educational television, is they find new things to be afraid of.  There's a fairly good geology series on the History channel called How the Earth was Made.  Last night we watched one about asteroids, which covered the major meteror strikes of the past. 

So yeah, now they have some concerns about being hit by a meteor.  I'd tried explaining how rare they are, that they're more likely to live to 150 yrs old than be hurt by a meteor.

I also flat-out told them that people watch the skies looking for the really big dangerous ones, that we'd absolutely see them coming and be able to send a spaceship to it in advance and blow it up before it hit the planet.  That's right, I lied exaggerated big-time to calm their fears.  Sometimes it's better for them not to know how the world works just yet.

At least with volcanoes and earthquakes, I can accurately tell them that they don't happen here.

I've always liked sharing my birthday with the anniversary of the moon landing, it's a pretty cool day to be born on.

I am now the age of parents, 36.  This is because when I first thought to ask my parents how old they were, when I was a child, they were 36.  This number stuck with me as a reference point for years; it may have been nearly a decade later that it occurred to me that their ages had incremented just like mine! :D

I think I finally self-identify as an adult, rather than a college kid who's just pretending to be grown up.  Being a parent, one must eventually concede that adulthood has actually arrived.

We had a fun night this past Thur.  Had a bunch of friends over for a cookout followed by a firefly hunt for the kids.  The kids all got along great, and had quite a blast chasing after fireflies in the glen behind our house.  Definitely we'll do this again next year!

Not content with a healing collarbone, the boy went and stepped on a nail.  No sign of infection luckily.  And I have to say it's wonderfully handy to have a father-in-law who's a doctor and can be reached for immediate consultation on such things.

Before the cookout, I spent a good two hours uprooting weeds from around the yard.  By no means did I get them all, but I made a serious dent, and the most egregious offenders (who were taller than me!) are history.  But now I'm paying for it, as I managed to get poison ivy on my left arm.  I didn't even see it, which has me concerned that I'll get more unknowingly when (if?) I get back to weeding.  It hasn't itched too badly, except for this morning at 5:30 when it woke me up and decided to be unbearable for a while.  I scratched around it (not ON it!) which gave temporary sympathetic relief, but then it would just burn worse than ever so perhaps that was less than brilliant.  Finally got up and put some Gold Bond on it, which helped only a little and then meant I had to hold my arm up off the bed since I didn't come close to rubbing it in well.  Just when I thought I'd have to give up on sleep I finally found a good way to prop it up and drowsed off.

My son has his first broken bone! While goofing around on the jungle gym with his sister (unsupervised, I should mention), he fell onto his left side and now has a greenstick fracture of his left clavicle.  It was clear it was a definite injury rather than normal bumping/bruising, but he was pretty brave about the whole thing.  No scream, not many tears, but continued moans and winces when it's jostled.  He was very good about the doctor examining it and about going into the x-ray room on his own.

He is a little woe-is-me about it hurting (and having to take motrin), but is also loving the extra attention it's bringing.  To me it feels like a major right-of-passage.  His father and his maternal grandpa both broke collarbones at age three, so he's behind the curve.

Is it wrong to be thinking it's good that it was him and not her?  She'd be a bundle of tears and wallowing in self-pity over the pain, and he'd be jealous of all the attention it brought her.  He definitely wishes it hadn't happened, and perhaps now will be less jealous in the future when M has minor injuries that get her short-term intesive attention.

We are home.  Fun was had.  Pictures were taken. 

Not much in the way of interesting details to share -- we went to the beach in the mornings, played around in the afternoon, and swam in the condo pool after dinner.  Kids made progress on their swimming prowess.

The toys from my childhood that my mom brought along were all hits:  Fashion Plates and the Mighty Men and Monster Maker (fashion plates for boys, essentially) are definite favorites, and worth tracking down vintage sets on eBay for those of you with kids.  The Fisher Price Wooden Circus was loved too, and I've now researched and learned it predates my birth by ten year, having been made in 1963.  Another classic worth tracking down on eBay.  Also some games:  Children's Hour, which was a box set of three different games (elephant board game with spinner, fishing game, and matching game), good for children as young as 3-4.  And the Sesame Street  Missing Match-Ups game, a memory-type game that is better for younger children as it avoids the fuss of laying out a bazillion cards in rows.  All seem findable on eBay except the Sesame Street game, which is the least unique of the lot.

Spirograph was enjoyed but was too hard for them to use on their own, so it didn't come home with us, but the rest did.  Yay!

We're on our way to FL for a week at the beach, with my parents.  K's software release was done on time so he is with us, yay!  Today's parental amusement was listening to both kids singing as they listened to their little mp3 players with headphones on. 

G's MRI was yesterday morning.  It went fine, though if I never have to watch one of my children be put to sleep again I'll happy.  They didn't warn me that he'd fight against the gas mask as it started working (and judging by the comments of mom friends last night, he fought more than most).  It is an intinctive reaction to freak out when someone is forcefully holding a gas mask over your child who's actively trying to get away from it.

I wanted to go for a good cry after that, but also knew that I needed to look perfectly happy and unworried for when he woke up at the end of it.  So instead I went to the cafeteria and ate two black bottom cupcakes.

The whole thing took longer than planned; first we were kept waiting as the anesthetist was running behind (at 8 am!), then they did do his MRI with contrast and had a wait for the right person to show up to do that.  By 10 he was back in his room and I got to sit and wait beside him.  It took a while for him to wake up, though I don't recall how long nor was it unusually long.  It's just long when you're waiting to make sure your  baby is okay (and that you were right not to attack the doctor who gassed him) while he's lying there so small and still.

I knew when he was starting to come around by the sudden increase in his pulse, at which point he got out of that perfectly posed position on his back and rolled up on his side.  He slowly woke up from there, opening eyes briefly, muttering random things which may or may not have been intelligble, and generally acting drunk.  He was very pleased with himself, declaring his bravery early on which I heartily agreed with and praised. 

After being dopey in bed for a while, then eating a snack, he suddenly was ready to go and sat up and got ready to hop down and go.  That was unexpected; it was clear his "go home it's over" switch had been thrown and he was ready, despite his still general wobblyness.  He refused a wheelchair, which I think just goes to show he was still dopey cause I can't believe he wouldn't normally find that fun, and instead wobbled down the hallway with me on one side and a nurse on the other, clutching at him as he lurched about while insisting he could walk just fine.  I carried him to the car and away we went.  For doughtnuts.

It started with letting the kids watch Portal and Lego Indy on xbox (Daddy or Uncle R play).  Then I drug out my ancient Nintendo to play Yoshi's Island for them.  This went on for a number of months with them simply happy to watch, until the fateful day my brother let G help play a bit on Indy.  It was all G could could talk about for days, while K and I debated the merits of letting him really play and settled on once a week for about an hour, per game machine. 

G is thrilled, and it's clear how much he enjoys playing and thinks about it all week while waiting for the right day to roll around again.  The kids have been speculating recently about what it would be like if Mommy had another baby, and G has decided it would be great because he'd get to play more (the logic being that I'd have less time with him and would let him play more to keep him distracted, I guess).  He's also declared that he would like to live with me still when he grows up so he can continue to play Yoshi.  And he's marvelled that "when you're dead, I can play all the time!"

Nice to know obsessed boy isn't going to miss me too much.

M on the other hand, is much less interested in watching or playing, but does have some interest.  But tonight I think we've found her favorite thing ever.  G and M got to create their own profiles on the xbox tonight, which involves not just picking out a name but also an avatar whom you can dress.  She is happily creating multiple outfits for her avatar with my brother's assistance.  I don't think she needs to actually play a game at all, a computer dress up doll is all she needs.

In a couple weeks we'll be in FL for a week at a condo with my parents.  My mom is bringing along my old Fashion Plates, which will blow M's little mind, I think.

Internet, you are failing me.

So we went to family swim tonight, as is usual on Fridays.  Usually I alwasy use the stairs to get in and out of the pool.  Today after taking the kids for a potty break, I thought I should stop being wimpy and just step down to the ledge and in (perhaps 1.5-2 ft drop each).  Big mistake.  I don't know exactly what the heck I did, but my right calf muscle ripped quite painfully.  It stayed in full agony, like a Charlie horse, for only a short while, then subsided into sorta-hurt threaten-to sieze up again feeling -- unless I do something silly like twist the leg while bearing weight, or otherwise flex the muscle in any sort of way.

Of course it would have to be my right leg, which made driving a little nerve wracking.  Good thing I didn't have to tromp on the brakes at all, and that the pool is just a mile from home.

Anyhow, I'm home and trying to google to find out what I should do for my poor leg to ease it, and as you might surmise by now from my first sentece, the internet is failing me.  Google "ripped muscle" and of course you get all sorts of sites on weight lifting.  Similar results when going to WebMD where you might think they'd treat ripped muscles as an injury rather than a thing to try to achieve. 

Fail internet.  I hate you.


ETA:  And now I know I should have started my search for "torn muscle", which leads to the correct terminology of muscle strain.  Leg is now elevated and on ice, and ibuprofen has been consumed.

G lost a lens a few days ago.  A screw fell out, and the lens followed, at an unknown time during the day.  Repeated searching through all the areas of the house he'd been did not turn it up, so a new one was ordered.  And of course, because it was lost rather than broken the warranty doesn't cover it, but luckily it cost less than I expected plus the optician gave me a 50% discount. 

We got bicycles for both kids a few weeks ago.  I knew teaching kids to ride without training wheels is hard, but I didn't realize how hard it is to learn with them as well.  Probably in part because they never spent that much time on trikes.  We've gone around our street a few times, with me running back and forth between them to help.  They need pushes to get started, and steadying hands when they hit a driveway (where the pavement dips at an angle and makes spills more likely).  I'm constantly telling G to look where he's going instead of at his feet.  M will freak out that she's going to crash into G, even though he's stopped 15+ feet ahead of her and she's travelling at perhaps one inch per second.

Today we went to a nearby park with a nearly level paved path that's not quite a mile long.  The did much better on it.  G is definitely getting the hang of it better, and is confident; he would get way ahead of M and me.  His biggest problem right now is that randomly and inexplicably his pedals will lock and to get them unlocked I have to flip the bike over and mess with it for a while; the chain doesn't seem to have a problem. 

M did much better, but she's afraid to go faster than a snail's pace, and doesn't want to listen to any advice I have.  She's sure it's better to steer into the grass when she wants to stop, rather than learning how to use the foot brake.  Her glowing, happy report to daddy when we got home was at odds with our mutual frustration with each other for much of the two laps we did.  It's so fun to have your child alternately scream at you to not touch the bike because she can do it herself and  then demand you hold on and help, between one breath and the next.  It was a reminder of why I would never ever consider homeschooling her, because she refuses to accept anything that resembles active teaching from me.  For me to teach her, it has to be subtle so that she doens't realize it's happening.

I know she did make progress though, and enjoyed it -- she's eager to go back to the park very soon and it was her favorite thing from the day in her nightly thank you prayer.

 

Only after a family dinner discussion has explained the word anthropomorphization can you command your child to "stop anthropomorphizing your fork and eat your dinner."

M was complaining of her new adult tooth hurting, which surprised and concerned me.  In a fit of inspiration yesterday I looked not at that tooth, but the one next to it.  Yep, she has her second loose tooth.  Now we go through 1-2 weeks of her accidentally biting hard with it and dissolving into tears, plus jealously from the boy.  Since neither one is happy about it, can we magically make him be the one with the loose tooth.

Preschool is all over.  I'm not the type to get all sentimental that my babies are growing up, instead I'm lamenting all the grocery shopping and other errands that they will have to join me for, for the summer.  But it is a good thing that they enjoyed school and did well and will be properly ready for Kindergarten in the fall.  And they're looking forward to doing lots and lots of worksheets this summer (no really they are, I'm not being my usual facetious self).

The kids caught 5 caterpillars on Tues, which are now in a one gallon ice cream container.  They're migrating across the sidewalks these days which makes them easy to spot and capture.  I've identified them as eastern tent caterpillars, and from that got appropriate leaves for them to feed on from cherry and pear trees.  Yesterday all were still alive and leaves showed signs of munchage.  This morning one looks to be dead, two more have spun cocoons.  The other two we could spot and didn't move things around to search for so as not to disturb the cocoons. 

I made the mistake of starting to read them a book I enjoyed as a teen without reading at least a bit of it myself to remind myself of the details.  The subject matter is generally quite appropriate -- it's hilarious non-fiction tales of siamese cats (Cats in the Belfry by Doreen Tovey).  But the writing is surprising advanced, which I hadn't remembered in the least.  The vocabulary level is quite high, and on average there's at least a couple words per paragraph that I have to explain.  Plus there's cultural references up the yin yang that are quite beyond their current level of knowledge of the world (Shakespeare, works of art, old movie stars).  Then there's the section I had to skim and skip when discussing cats coming into heat and being bred, as it was coming too close to illuminating for them the huge gap in their understanding of how babies come to be.  Oh, and the author in English so there's all the British/American English differences to contend with.  But they are quite enjoying listening to me read the story, so it's too late to say it's not a book for them.  So instead I'm editing as I read aloud as best I can, but still face interruptions with questions several times per paragraph.

Just killed a big creepy spider that had the audacity to crawl across my desk and right up my monitor.  It disappeared for a while after that, and I was too chicken to poke much to see if I could locate it. But I got a couple kleenex at the ready in case it showed up again, and eventually it did.  One failed attempt to killed followed by a successful squashing.  And now I have too much adrenaline coursing through my brains to bother getting myself back in bed where I belong.


So, on another note, my son looks like he entered witness protection, having recently lost his long shaggy hair to a nice short cut rather like his father's plus the addition of his new glasses.  Little boys with glasses are almost unbearably cute.  He's always been quite the charmer...if he knew (or when he discoveres) how much the glasses enhance his natural charisma, he'd never complain about wearing them (not that he's complaining now, though he's tired of being admonished to actually look through rather than over them).

My family just got home from a short trip (up to Rhode Island for my Grandma's memorial service). In amongst the big pile of mail I brought in was a business card from a tree service, and hand written on that was "Black locust on house!".

I was more curious than concerned, because while I had no idea what type of tree that was, the trees around our house which I knew to be within falling distance of it were known to me and not that kind. Plus there was no obvious tree sticking into my house, that I had seen.

Then I went upstairs to help the kids settle down for bedtime, and poked my head into our guest room for curiosity's sake. No tree through the house there. Then I turned on the light, and could see out the slider door onto the balcony, that indeed there were tree branches, pressed right up against the door.

Oh. That tree. The one right at the back corner of our property, which I've never known the identity of, and which I frequently have forgotten is ours as it truly is at the corner and feels as much like the neighbor's or part of the open glen behind the house.

Now after more proper investigation -- as proper as it gets in the dark when it's just starting to rain -- we have seen that indeed the tree is on the house, just at the corner and luckily the masonry on the side wall seems to have taken the brunt of the weight and so the house isn't caved in or anything. We think the roof is fine, because there should probably already be signs of water damage if it wasn't (assuming the tree came down in a storm).

All in all I guess we were lucky that it wasn't worse, especially since we weren't home when it happened. I guess I can thank grandma for watching over our house while we were away.