Archive for the ‘family’ Tag
September 05 2011
Selecting Abby’s outfit for the day can be a teeth-gnashing ordeal. There shouldn’t be much bickering, since she only wants to wear the same ensemble every day. Surprisingly, however, take issue with this. Especially when her cherished garments are out of season. Or dirty. Clean clothes, let alone a change now and then, they’re your friend.
As per usual on this day, she went for her normal attire. Black leggings and a striped long-sleeved shirt to layer upon. Though it was supposed to be a record high temperature of 103 that day and this would be like wearing a sauna. She needed to be presented with other options. I opened her dresser drawer and bravely suggested, complete with explanation, “It’s supposed to be really hot today, so why don’t we put on some shorts, or a dress?”.
Abby’s face turned into a pout as she formed a reply that sounded a lot like, “You’f a bonny”.
“Did you just call me a bunny?”, I asked her.
“No. You…”, she continued pointing her finger in my direction, articulating each word as clearly as she could with emphasis. “You full a baoni.”
Catching on, I offered, “I’m full of bologna? Did you learn that from Grandma?”.
“Yep. You full a baoni, Mommy”, she repeated.
In the end, we compromised, she sweated, and I’m still full of bologna. I can thank her grandma for that.
August 12 2011
We have had Grey Kitty as a member of our family for going on 14 years. He’s a senior citizen as far as felines are concerned and is more than willing to take advantage of his elder stature by sleeping his days away. Rarely does the cat move unless there’s food to consume or a break for his litter box or a kid has found his hiding spot. He’s a lazy lump of fur, is what I’m saying.
For the past few weeks, however, he had been slurping up water like his tongue was on fire. And his litter box would need changed a lot more than usual with it. At first, I just chalked it up to being extra thirsty.
Soon, the vomiting began. Horrendous and vile and continuous every time he dared to stand. Grey Kitty turned wobbly and weak and was withering into a skeleton. Finally, I realized my almost 14 year old poor excuse for a mouser was just getting worse without help. As it turns out, not only did my cat have a tumor that needed removed, but he has diabetes.
My cat. Has diabetes.
Did you know cats can get diabetes? I didn’t. I continue to be bewildered by the disease.
Jedi appeared consoled at the news, a way for him to feel like he’s not in this alone. Because no child at his age truly wants to be different. If he has to get poked and injected with insulin, I’m sure it helps to know others who are going through the same. Even those who are unexpected, like his cat. I can’t help but wonder, however, is there something in the water around here?
August 11 2011
I had to run an errand a few days ago and left my mom in charge of my kids. Or maybe that’s the other way around. I do keep expecting to come back one of these days and find my mother strapped to a chair, fire engulfing the living room.
Not that I’m so great, either. That’s how I feel about my own parenting abilities on most days, too.
As I walked in on this day, gone just over an hour, there was a slight aroma of honey in the air. It wasn’t a terrible scent, it could have been worse definitely, so I didn’t dwell on it. But then, I noticed my daughter. Who, granted, normally sparkles, but not like this.
She was shiny.
I meandered over to where Abby stood and ran my thumb over her greasy cheek, then through the gummy front of her hair.
“You’ve been in the chapstick, haven’t you?”, I questioned.
“Yeah”, Abby answered, proud of her application.
When my mom quickly spoke up, “I turned around for just a minute and she was smearing it all over herself. I didn’t even have time to stop her.”
I wanted to give my mother a hard time about it. I tried, in fact. But I couldn’t bring myself to scold her too harshly. There’s a reason why I knew what happened before she said a word. Abby did the same thing with me just the day prior, only that time with strawberry-scented that left her face tinted pink. They’re quick, curious little things, and it only takes less than a minute for trouble to brew. Although now that I think about it, that’s how fires start, too.
August 02 2011
I don’t like to brag, but my oldest son, Jedi, is a smart kid. There was even talk last year of sending him to a gifted school. He began reading at a young age, memorizing words he saw, and can now devour chapter books far above his grade level. He also knows an obscene amount about computers and can type faster than most adults 4 times his age. He’s full of questions, sometimes too many, and wants to know how everything works.
While his intelligence is still astounding, these are areas where I already knew he excelled. What I didn’t know was how well-versed he seems to have become in the notes of classical music. One of these days, he may grow up to be a prolific composer like Mozart in his own right.
And I owe this new discovery to a redolent development.
My brother came over for a visit not too long ago, which is always a big deal. For Jedi especially. My son enjoys spending time with his uncle, and gets very excited, thus loud and animated, when he’s here. One could say he’s bursting at the seams. As such, he was jumping around, running about, when he apparently let one loose by my brother’s side.
“Did you just fart?”, my brother asked in jest, because boys of any age pick up on this kind of thing.
“Yeah,” Jedi enthused jovially, “and it was a fart in G major”.
My son. Not to brag, but I can now add musical prodigy to his list of accomplishments.
July 08 2011
My parents came over for a visit and promptly began to run down the roll call of their various aches and pains before they even sat down. Which they apparently had a lot of to go around. They’ve earned that right. Once you reach past a certain age, you’re allowed to complain all you want.
A threshold of which I can never cross in certain company.
Except the day before, I had been whipping a water hose in every direction for my kids to play in like I was still a kid myself. The lengths we go through to entertain and waterbomb our children. My body, however, informed me that morning that it wasn’t happy. Not happy at all to be used for that kind of exertion. As such, my shoulder blade was insufferable.
Oh, my arm! Oh, my leg! Ow, my back!
“My shoulder has been bothering me, too, since I woke up this morning.”, I chimed in.
To which they both turned to look at me as though I’d sprouted a third head.
“What are you complaining about?”, my mom dismissed. “You’re only 32.”
“Still hurts”, I shuffled my feet and mumbled as the subject changed.
The lesson here is that you’re only as old as those you’re listing your ailments to. Next time, I’ll stick to groaning at my kids. They’re polite enough to consider me ancient. As Jedi asked the other night, “Were there dinosaurs back in 1979?”. Yes, because I was born in the dark ages. Now here, son, come rub this Icy Hot on your geriatric mom’s shoulders.
