Life down here on earth

Speck-ulations

Tonight when I was putting Jack to bed, I turned off the light and we lay there for a moment in the dark. I thought he was sleepy and would soon be asleep, but no. Out of the darkness came a question: "How big is a speck?" Since it was bedtime and I was tired, I chose to ignore all the theoretical possibilities (how many specks on the head of a pin, for instance) and went with the easy answer. I should know there is no such thing.

Me: A speck is very small.

Jack: How small?

Me: Probably about as big as a grain of salt.

Jack: Big salt or little salt?

Me: What's big salt?

Jack: The salt we put in the water softner.

Me: Ah. A speck is smaller than that.

Jack: How small?

This conversation went on several minutes longer than it should have until I finally ended it with

Me: Go to sleep and be sure to ask your Dad in the morning.

It took us longer than I thought it would to get the house back in order after the carpet was installed. It took one day to move everything off the floor and a week to put it all back.

In the meantime, Sam stood on the arm of the couch and jumped off. Afterwards, he crumpled into a bawling heap on the floor. He wouldn't put weight on his right foot for two days. Greg and I were fairly certain it wasn't broken, but eventually decided maybe a doctor should see it. The doctor agreed that this was a good idea, saying something about growth plates. After having x-rays of both feet just for comparison's sake, the doctor said his foot seemed fine and was probably just bruised.

The best part about the doctor's visit was that Sam came away with a feeling of the significance of his injury and a stern admonition from the doctor to stop jumping off the couch. (Also, he thought getting his feet x-rayed was loads of fun, but that wasn't really the point.) He's still limping slightly, but that's probably because once he decided he could walk, he figured he might as well run and jump, too.

Jack was sent home sick from school yesterday. He spent the rest of the day on the couch alternately whining and throwing up. This didn't let up until last night which he spent in bed alternately whining and throwing up. We thought he was better today and this evening ventured a walk to the local mexican place with Eric, Nancy and the cousins only for Jack to get sick there, too. Oops.

Sam, not pleased to be cooped up in the house for two days with his brother getting the lion's share of mommy-time, decided to release his inner devil and go on the rampage. He scribbled on every single sheet of paper in the notepad I keep by the phone. He immersed an entire roll of toilet paper in the toilet. He stuck half a roll of stamps on the coffee table (Have you ever tried to peel a stamp after it was stuck? The post office means business with those things, not to mention 37 cents a sticker is pretty pricey if you ask me.) He flushed a washcloth down the toilet, which, thankfully, went without stopping the thing up. He scribbled on the kitchen table with a pencil because he was angry I would not let him have a pen (clearly a child not clear on the concept.) He refused to go to sleep deciding that he did NOT like his new bed or the new airplane pictures in his room and also that he was suddenly afraid of the dark. There is more, but my poor brain has blocked it out already.

Meanwhile, Greg, who was out of town on business most of the week, spent today hiking the Grand Canyon with some work pals. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Happy first birthday little Ava!

May your next year be full of exciting adventures!

Think Big

Sam and I were in the car on the way to the store. Knowing that Sam had been carrying around a tiny Hot Wheels Hummer for about two weeks, I pointed out a real one to him.

Me: Look Sam! There's a Hummer.
Sam:*gasp* Just like my Hot Wheels one.
Sam:I want that!
and then, to be certain I knew what he meant
Sam: I want one of those. Not those toy cars. That *real* car. To drive!

Now, we've been over the "you have to be a grown up to drive" thing because Sam doesn't mean this in a "someday" kind of way. He wants to drive right now. But I can't think of anything scarier than Sam- at any age- cruising the streets in a full size Hummer. *shudders* But, hey, if you're going to aim, aim high, right?

Absolute Bed-lam

I got a little cocky this weekend and thought I could pick up Sam. Wrong. Set myself back several days by doing that. Motrin is my friend, though, and it's not so bad unless I sit down for any length of time. In which case, upon standing, I have to walk around like the Hunchback of Notre Dame for a couple of minutes until my spine catches up with the rest of me.

It's an unfortunate time for back trouble. We're gearing up for new carpet on Thursday. This means nearly the entire contents of our house need to be moved to the garage. If it's on carpet, it's gotta go. Drawers, closets, dressers- all emptied. The only thing worse than this would be actually moving.

But wait! There's more! As if that weren't enough excitement for the week, on Wednesday we are picking up our new car. I know I should be excited about a new car, but I'm feeling ambivalent. A new car is always good, but it feels odd to be breaking out of my Honda habit (13 years!) and I'd rather not drive anything bigger than my Accord thankyouverymuch.

Now how much would you pay?! Still not satisfied with our week, we decided at 6:00pm tonight that NOW was a good time to take Sam out of his crib. In spite of the fact that he is well over three years old and can climb in and out at will, Sam has continued to sleep in his crib while waiting for Jack's bunk beds to be finished. When the bunk beds were done, Jack's twin bed would go to Sam. Since all beds will be disassembled this week anyway (see above), we figured, what the hey. So tonight, Sam is sleeping for the first time in a big twin bed and Jack is sleeping on a mattress on the floor. See the new photo album (gasp! finally! a new album!) for pictures of The Great Bed Caper.

All this talk about beds is making me sleepy. I think I shall go to mine.

I threw out my back yesterday. I don't think I'm old enough to be throwing out my back, but apparently that's the name for the thing I have done. We were walking home from school and I went to put Sam in the stroller. Sam didn't want to go in the stroller. I've made a note to myself that Poor Lifting Technique + Reluctant 40lb. Child= Not Good. In hindsight, I probably did the initial damage carrying Jack up the stairs the other night. I'm managing all right on enough ibuprofen to stone a sumo wrestler, but I can't stand completely upright.

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On a happier note, Happy Texas Independence Day!

The Caucus Race

Jack and Sam were eating popsicles outside. They were walking in circles around the round patio table, spaced at opposite sides of the circle. And this was the conversation in between bites of popsicle:

Stop following me!
No, you're following me!
No, you're following me!
Stop it!
No, you stop it!
You're following me!
No, you're following me!

I watched from inside the back door and just laughed. They eventually gave up when their popsicles were done and came inside for a bath.

The Waitingest Happiest Place on Earth

Jack and I went to Disneyland on Saturday. It was a birthday celebration for Jack's buddy, Gryffon. We had a good time. We stood in line, ate some popcorn, stood in line, ate some churros, stood in line, ate some caramel corn- you get the idea. Oh, and we rode a few rides, too.

Jack & Gryffon on the tram. Jack on Pirates of the Caribbean.

We left late- about 10pm- and it's over an hour ride home. Both boys fell asleep in the car. At home, I tried to wake Jack up, but couldn't. So I hefted his 68lbs. out of the car and carried (and by "carried", I mean "dragged") him up the stairs and changed him into pajamas. I can't believe he didn't wake up through the entire ordeal, seeing as how I was not very gentle (and by "not very gentle", I mean I whacked his head on the doorframe at least once.) We spent most of Sunday napping and recuperating.