Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Hush Little Mama

Tonight as I was lying in the top bunk, pretending to be asleep, I felt little hands caressing my hair and heard a song: Hush little Mama, don't say a word, Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird ..."

A few stanzas were skipped, but it was beautiful nonethless. Then he got his finger entangled in my hair, ripped it out painfully and said, "Mama! You have curly hair just like Lula Blue!" Lula is a friend at school.

I took that as my cue to exit the bed and go sack out on the couch in the same room as my husband. Just as I was exiting the room, he asked, "Mama? Do you have a penis?"

I told him we'd talk about that tomorrow.

May is coming and y'all know what that means: BREAK BETWEEN SEMESTERS! During those times I have a habit of posting incessantly about nothing.

So, The Goose may not be the only one singing, "Hush Little Mama."

See y'all next month.

Monday, April 28, 2008

Jack Attack


We've had two familial visits of late, but I only have pictures of one. It has nothing to do with priorities and everything to do with camera batteries and laziness.

Here are a few of the cousin visit:
Cuz

Sit on the big guy

worker guys take their shirts off

having a snack

Hug

And finally ... here is one of The Goose & our neighbor, Annie, watching the Backyardigans. They sat like this in the recliner for an hour. I mean, um, about an hour or so give or take ... I mean, it's not like we ever let him watch TV for a whole HOUR! Never.

Annie

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Bend It Like Becker

Neither ear infections nor the weather stopped us today. Finally, after a frustrating first few weeks of the season, the Pink Panthers played against the Maroon Sharks in a game that was not officially scored. By Mama's estimates, however, the Sharks ate the Panthers for breakfast. One good thing about the Sharks though -- their best player, Rhett, has involved grandparents who own a golf cart.





Enjoy the movie!


Saturday, April 05, 2008

We're home ...


As in home. As in not at Vanderbilt Children's Hospital on the 6th floor anymore. If a child gets an ear infection, a touch of pneumonia, and has asthma on top of that, then probably he needs to be in the hospital getting pumped up with steroids and antibiotics and oxygen. But all is well and we are home (still with the steroids and antibiotics).

While we were there, I was pitiful ... fighting ANOTHER cold and exhausted and one night as I was getting in the elevator to go down to the parking lot, this man looked at me and said, "You look tired." I just looked at him like he was crazy because really ... is that ever a good way to start a conversation? He continued, "Yeah, I understand. We've been here for a month this time. My wife's back in Kentucky with the other kids and I'm here with this one." He ruined my pity party. And thank goodness he did -- talk about counting your blessings. What was I thinking??? Three days in the hospital with a treatable illness is nothing compared to whatever monster he must be facing.

So I learned a lesson. Another one.

In other news ...

Before we went to the hospital, the Paternals came to visit:

PILs (At the time this picture was taken, I was at home wiping up hot chocolate barf and trying to get a fever down from 105. Yeah. 105.)

Side note: A child is only technically in serious danger if the fever passes 107.6, and in most cases is peaks @ 106.

I think it was good, however, that the PILs didn't know about all of that, because this outting to the lake may have been the only fun they had on their visit to the house of the sickos. Then they left with all of our germs, which still (6 days later) are ravaging them. I don't know whether to send a note saying "thanks" or "sorry" or what.

But all is well now (at least in our house) ... The Goose is happily jacked up on antibiotics and steroids, and besides his fits of adrenaline-induced 'roid rage, things seem to be getting back to normal. He'll have to do an inhaler twice a day for, well, probably at least for a few years ... he'll be tested for allergies ... he might have to start back on Singulair ... and more importantly we'll know better than to think he's OK when he's hacking hysterically night after night.

Moral of the story: Sometimes kids need drugs.

Happy Spring ... hope everyone is well!


To my first on his 14th, 15th, and 16th

Dear John, Happy Sweet 16th, sweet boy. You are now taller than me and your dad. You can pick me up. You have a job. You built a motorized b...