Not a bad weekend, all things considered. Not bad at all.
Friday night, after some panicking and running about and calling my parents to consult, I signed up to attend my 20th high school reunion next month. I'm actually really excited, despite the fact that probably 2/3 of the people there won't remember me. I'd wanted to go to my 10th reunion, but missed it because we were moving that weekend. (And how weird/cool is it that my journal is old enough that I can link to things from 10 years ago?)
Saturday morning we took the kids to Panera to meet up with Chuck and Anita and Heidi for breakfast. We sat around talking until Alex, hopped on on stickybun sugar, got too restless to stay in his seat, so we walked over to the Barnes and Noble and wandered there for a bit. The kids had a fantastic time looking at books and playing in the kids' section.
Both kids were really good, and we had a fantastic time. Definitely must do that again soon!
We were pretty slothful for the rest of the day (everyone except me wound up keeling over for a nap after lunch, actually, and I used the respite to curl up on the couch with a book). And then Matt had his monthly D&D game that night.
Sunday was mostly a bunch of chores and errand-running. But the whole family went out on most of the errands, and we took our time with them. Having Matt to keep an eye on the kids made the grocery shopping easier, and Penny got a huge kick out of stopping at the fresh vegetable stand. (I hesitate to call it a "farmer's market" when it's run out of the back of a pickup truck, but he did say he'd be there all summer, so that makes me happy -- fresh produce is one of the few things I actually like about summer.)
I did go out by myself to run up to Target to get some new clothes -- my shorts are all laughably too big for me, and so is the tank top I wear to bed. Just to see how much further I have to go, I took both XL and L into the fitting room, and I was... surprised. The size L PJ tops fit perfectly. A bit snug, but not uncomfortably so. And the L shorts, though they were uncomfortably tight, I could at least get on. In a few different styles, so it wasn't just a fluke. I ended up buying one pair, just on the thought that I might need them before the summer is out.
(What the hell is up with all the short-waisted, hip hugger pants, though? I am not interested in showing off my nasty ugly belly button, and I am particularly not interested in showing off my underwear. And underwear that rides low enough not to look utterly ridiculous sticking up out of the back of those stupid pants is hideously uncomfortable. It took me over an hour to find one style of shorts that actually came up to my waist. And those, naturally, didn't have pockets. UG. I hate hate hate shopping for clothes. Especially pants.)
Anyway, I made soup for dinner using fresh corn that I cut off the cob myself, and ham, and white beans. It was actually really good, so it may well become a part of my regular rotation. (At least for the summer. I'm not sure it would have been as good with frozen corn.)
So yay for nice weekends, with kids behaving well and new clothes with proof I'm shrinking and tasty food. Whoo!
And here comes July, where I've already got at least one major activity lined up every weekend... Time to get busy!
Monday, June 29, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
Rough Start
Not the smoothest morning ever.
Alex completely flipped out when I had the gall to walk away from him and leave him with Matt.
Penny selectively heard me tell her that she could watch TV, but missed the part where I said, "after you've got your shoes on and are all ready to go."
I zoned out (okay, I admit it; I was checking twitter and facebook) and got us moving ten or fifteen minutes later than usual.
Penny decided just as I was parking the car at daycare that she needed to read the menu breakdown on her lunch bag to find out what she was having for her meals today -- she's not the most proficient reader, yet, and abbreviations confuse her, so this takes longer than a few seconds.
I was almost run off the road by a dump truck on my way to the office.
Aaaand I just realized that I forgot to take the meat out of the freezer for tonight's dinner.
...It's got to get better, right?
Alex completely flipped out when I had the gall to walk away from him and leave him with Matt.
Penny selectively heard me tell her that she could watch TV, but missed the part where I said, "after you've got your shoes on and are all ready to go."
I zoned out (okay, I admit it; I was checking twitter and facebook) and got us moving ten or fifteen minutes later than usual.
Penny decided just as I was parking the car at daycare that she needed to read the menu breakdown on her lunch bag to find out what she was having for her meals today -- she's not the most proficient reader, yet, and abbreviations confuse her, so this takes longer than a few seconds.
I was almost run off the road by a dump truck on my way to the office.
Aaaand I just realized that I forgot to take the meat out of the freezer for tonight's dinner.
...It's got to get better, right?
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Sleepytime
Draggingly tired this morning. Not really sure why; I was asleep before 11:30, no mid-night or early morning interruptions from kids or cat; stayed in bed until almost 6:30.
Not too much to talk about today, anyway. Penny had swim lessons last night and did pretty well, though she was more inclined to hold onto the swim bar and let the teacher just pull her around than to actually kick her legs. But the teacher was on the lookout for it, and she blew bubbles and dunked her head under the water like a champ. Also, she was twenty times better behaved that most of the other kids (though to be fair, there's a big difference in what you can expect from a kid who's almost six and one who's three or four).
Things are a little slow at work this week, and will only be slower next week, as half the office takes advantage of the holiday on Friday to take their summer vacations. I'm not complaining -- it's letting me catch up on all those little nitpicky tasks that seem to pile up when I'm not looking.
Not too much to talk about today, anyway. Penny had swim lessons last night and did pretty well, though she was more inclined to hold onto the swim bar and let the teacher just pull her around than to actually kick her legs. But the teacher was on the lookout for it, and she blew bubbles and dunked her head under the water like a champ. Also, she was twenty times better behaved that most of the other kids (though to be fair, there's a big difference in what you can expect from a kid who's almost six and one who's three or four).
Things are a little slow at work this week, and will only be slower next week, as half the office takes advantage of the holiday on Friday to take their summer vacations. I'm not complaining -- it's letting me catch up on all those little nitpicky tasks that seem to pile up when I'm not looking.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Words
Yesterday it was Matt's turn to stay with Penny through her swimming lesson while I took Alex home for dinner.
I was making my sandwich and Alex was rushing around the kitchen pointing at things and babbling urgently, when he stopped, pointed up at the counter, and said, "Yee yos!"
I looked over at him, and followed the imperious line of his arm, and saw the box of Cheerios. "YEE YOS!" he said again, more urgently.
"Cheerios, yes!" I agreed. This is progress: a week ago, they were just "yos." Apparently, he's discovered the first syllable. "Do you want some Cheerios for dinner?"
Alex nodded vigorously. (When Alex nods, he doesn't do it with his head; it does it with his whole torso. It's quite funny. Sometimes, I ask him questions just to watch him nod.) So I got out a plastic bowl and poured a few Cheerios in it. As soon as I picked up the bowl, Alex marched over to his high-chair and started tugging at it.
I helped him up and set the Cheerios in front of him, and his cup of milk, then went back into the kitchen to get my own dinner (a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a bowl of cherries, and a handful of baby carrots). I pitted and sliced a few extra cherries for Alex and brought them to him on a paper napkin.
"Yee-yos!" he announced happily, fishing one out of the bowl and showing it to me.
"Cheerios!" I agreed.
He picked up a piece of cherry. "Babo."
"Cherry," I corrected.
Alex picked up his milk. "Ma!"
"Yes, that's your milk."
"Dabo!" He slapped his hand on the table.
"Table, yes! Very good!"
He pointed at my sandwich. "Babo!"
"Sandwich. This is Mommy's sandwich."
"Eh! Eh!" He held out an imploring hand. I pulled off a little crust and handed it to him, and he stuffed it in his mouth and held out his hand again.
"So... You really like peanut butter and jelly, eh?"
"Babo! Mine! Babo!" (For all the trouble he has with other words, his "mine" is pretty darned clear and distinct.)
The little weenie ate almost the entire crust off my sandwich. Plus half a carrot.
But it was fun, eating with him. He spent the whole meal pointing to things and trying to say them, and I would say the word to help him out, and he would say it again... He obviously wants to talk. It's exciting.
Later, as I was taking the dishes to the kitchen and starting to get stuff out to make today's meals, he pointed urgently into the fridge. "Tsees!"
"Yep, that's cheese." He looked at me expectantly. "You can't seriously be hungry, still."
"Tsees!"
"Really? You want some cheese?"
nod nod nod nod nod nod nod "Tsees!"
Boy, I'll be glad when he's off this steroid run. I got out a slice of cheese and unwrapped it. I was going to just give it to him and let him eat it standing, but he carried it straight over to his chair. Guess we've hammered that lesson home.
(Alex is a kid who takes comfort in his routines. Far from fighting bedtime, last night I read him exactly one book after he'd been changed into his pyjamas, and he slid down off my lap and announced, "Ni-ni!" and marched toward the stairs to go up to bed.)
It was a nice little interlude, really. I don't spend a lot of time with Alex when Penny and Matt aren't around. It was fun and kind of thrilling to watch him make progress.
I was making my sandwich and Alex was rushing around the kitchen pointing at things and babbling urgently, when he stopped, pointed up at the counter, and said, "Yee yos!"
I looked over at him, and followed the imperious line of his arm, and saw the box of Cheerios. "YEE YOS!" he said again, more urgently.
"Cheerios, yes!" I agreed. This is progress: a week ago, they were just "yos." Apparently, he's discovered the first syllable. "Do you want some Cheerios for dinner?"
Alex nodded vigorously. (When Alex nods, he doesn't do it with his head; it does it with his whole torso. It's quite funny. Sometimes, I ask him questions just to watch him nod.) So I got out a plastic bowl and poured a few Cheerios in it. As soon as I picked up the bowl, Alex marched over to his high-chair and started tugging at it.
I helped him up and set the Cheerios in front of him, and his cup of milk, then went back into the kitchen to get my own dinner (a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a bowl of cherries, and a handful of baby carrots). I pitted and sliced a few extra cherries for Alex and brought them to him on a paper napkin.
"Yee-yos!" he announced happily, fishing one out of the bowl and showing it to me.
"Cheerios!" I agreed.
He picked up a piece of cherry. "Babo."
"Cherry," I corrected.
Alex picked up his milk. "Ma!"
"Yes, that's your milk."
"Dabo!" He slapped his hand on the table.
"Table, yes! Very good!"
He pointed at my sandwich. "Babo!"
"Sandwich. This is Mommy's sandwich."
"Eh! Eh!" He held out an imploring hand. I pulled off a little crust and handed it to him, and he stuffed it in his mouth and held out his hand again.
"So... You really like peanut butter and jelly, eh?"
"Babo! Mine! Babo!" (For all the trouble he has with other words, his "mine" is pretty darned clear and distinct.)
The little weenie ate almost the entire crust off my sandwich. Plus half a carrot.
But it was fun, eating with him. He spent the whole meal pointing to things and trying to say them, and I would say the word to help him out, and he would say it again... He obviously wants to talk. It's exciting.
Later, as I was taking the dishes to the kitchen and starting to get stuff out to make today's meals, he pointed urgently into the fridge. "Tsees!"
"Yep, that's cheese." He looked at me expectantly. "You can't seriously be hungry, still."
"Tsees!"
"Really? You want some cheese?"
nod nod nod nod nod nod nod "Tsees!"
Boy, I'll be glad when he's off this steroid run. I got out a slice of cheese and unwrapped it. I was going to just give it to him and let him eat it standing, but he carried it straight over to his chair. Guess we've hammered that lesson home.
(Alex is a kid who takes comfort in his routines. Far from fighting bedtime, last night I read him exactly one book after he'd been changed into his pyjamas, and he slid down off my lap and announced, "Ni-ni!" and marched toward the stairs to go up to bed.)
It was a nice little interlude, really. I don't spend a lot of time with Alex when Penny and Matt aren't around. It was fun and kind of thrilling to watch him make progress.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Swimmingly
We started talking about getting swimming lessons for Penny last summer, and we finally got her signed up for the bare-basics "put your face in the water and blow bubbles" class at the YMCA.
Her first class was yesterday, and she was excited all to pieces about it. It's a half-hour class, four days a week for two weeks. By the end of it, they're supposed to be able to swim at least five feet by themselves.
(She's three and a half feet tall -- she can go five feet just by stretching out and kicking twice. But I guess they have to start somewhere.)
I was a little uncertain about how the schedule would work out: the class is from 5:45 to 6:15, and it's on the same side of town as the daycare where she and Alex are. The daycare closes at 6, so we can't leave Alex there until the swimming classes are over, and letting him run around the Y while she's in class isn't really a viable option. The Y's childcare also closes at 6. Also, if Alex doesn't get dinner by 6:15, he turns into a screaming bundle of fury. Matt gets off work at 4:30, but I usually work until 5:30, and it's a 20-minute drive from my office to the Y. Oh, and on bath nights, Penny needs to have her bath before she eats, or the warm water makes her insulin absorb too quickly and she ends up with a wicked low-and-then-high cycle.
Ug. I finally just conceded defeat: I'm leaving work half an hour early, and we're all having sandwiches for dinner. Matt picks the kids up, I meet them at the Y, and then one of us stays with Penny for her class and the other one takes Alex home. It means I'm spending a ridiculous amount of time driving back and forth to that side of town (once in the morning to drop the kids off, once for Penny's swim lessons, and once for either my allergy shot or my own time at the gym -- which cannot be combined with Penny's class, no matter how I try to juggle the schedule). But on the plus side, I'm not burning vacation time for it, since Penny being in daycare rather than regular school means I can be at work by 8 instead of 8:30.
And it's only for two weeks, and then we'll have a breather until I get her signed up for the next level class. It's an annoyance, but swimming is one of those things that I consider an non-optional life skill: she will get lessons until I've seen her swim one full standard length without having to touch bottom or hang onto anything for support. (I do not care about her form; this is solely a question of basic safety. If she wants to join the swim team and learn the perfect butterfly -- punishing and pointless as the stroke is -- that's up to her.)
Anyway, yesterday went more smoothly than I expected it to, despite my accidentally giving Penny's sandwich to Matt. There's some room for efficiency improvement, but I expect we'll get that worked out in short order. And it's worth it, after all. Like I said, she's excited all to pieces.
Her first class was yesterday, and she was excited all to pieces about it. It's a half-hour class, four days a week for two weeks. By the end of it, they're supposed to be able to swim at least five feet by themselves.
(She's three and a half feet tall -- she can go five feet just by stretching out and kicking twice. But I guess they have to start somewhere.)
I was a little uncertain about how the schedule would work out: the class is from 5:45 to 6:15, and it's on the same side of town as the daycare where she and Alex are. The daycare closes at 6, so we can't leave Alex there until the swimming classes are over, and letting him run around the Y while she's in class isn't really a viable option. The Y's childcare also closes at 6. Also, if Alex doesn't get dinner by 6:15, he turns into a screaming bundle of fury. Matt gets off work at 4:30, but I usually work until 5:30, and it's a 20-minute drive from my office to the Y. Oh, and on bath nights, Penny needs to have her bath before she eats, or the warm water makes her insulin absorb too quickly and she ends up with a wicked low-and-then-high cycle.
Ug. I finally just conceded defeat: I'm leaving work half an hour early, and we're all having sandwiches for dinner. Matt picks the kids up, I meet them at the Y, and then one of us stays with Penny for her class and the other one takes Alex home. It means I'm spending a ridiculous amount of time driving back and forth to that side of town (once in the morning to drop the kids off, once for Penny's swim lessons, and once for either my allergy shot or my own time at the gym -- which cannot be combined with Penny's class, no matter how I try to juggle the schedule). But on the plus side, I'm not burning vacation time for it, since Penny being in daycare rather than regular school means I can be at work by 8 instead of 8:30.
And it's only for two weeks, and then we'll have a breather until I get her signed up for the next level class. It's an annoyance, but swimming is one of those things that I consider an non-optional life skill: she will get lessons until I've seen her swim one full standard length without having to touch bottom or hang onto anything for support. (I do not care about her form; this is solely a question of basic safety. If she wants to join the swim team and learn the perfect butterfly -- punishing and pointless as the stroke is -- that's up to her.)
Anyway, yesterday went more smoothly than I expected it to, despite my accidentally giving Penny's sandwich to Matt. There's some room for efficiency improvement, but I expect we'll get that worked out in short order. And it's worth it, after all. Like I said, she's excited all to pieces.
Monday, June 22, 2009
WoW, Didn't See That Coming
When I started playing World of Warcraft, about three years ago, it was because Matt had started playing while I was away on vacation, and it looked fascinating and fun, and because, honestly, if I was going to spend half my evening watching over his elbow, I might as well be actually playing the game.
It's a fantastic game. Three years later, my "main" is level 80, I have an alt at 72 and another at 67, not to mention half a dozen lower-level characters on four different servers that were started and abandoned... and there are still zones I haven't explored, professions I haven't tried, races and classes I haven't played. That doesn't even count content like dungeons and raids that are still way out of my league.
But after a while, the "shiny" wears off, and you get a feel for the rhythm of the thing. For the types of quests offered (kill X of those, collect Y of these, retrieve this, deliver that, confront the boss mob, Go Over There). For the terrain (oh god, not more effing mountains). For the lore (begat, besmirched, betrayed). And once you reach that point, it's mostly a really gorgeous video game with a social component.
The social component has been the primary draw for me for the last year or so. Once the MeadeHall stuttered to a halt, WoW was one of the few places I could congregate with my friends.
Only lately, that's been sort of crumbling, too. It's not the game's fault, or ours. It's just the nature of the beast. When you're chatting via game interface, then the conversations become jagged, as you pause for combat or to wade through city chatter. And they tend to become encrusted with in-game concerns: showing off the latest awesome loot; asking for advice or help; complaining about that guy who just wiped the raid or stole your node. Intellectual intercourse and heart-to-heart discussions doesn't fit into the pattern of things very well. Without hyperbole: I have more in-depth conversations in Twitter than I do in Warcraft.
I took the month of December off from the game, and though I missed it, I didn't really long for it. I missed it in the way you miss your fingernails when they've been freshly trimmed, or that lock of hair you play with when it's been cut: I missed the habit of it. When I came back to the game in January, I tried to keep it from being a habit again, but I've noticed lately that it's trending that way again. I click on that icon whenever I've got ten minutes to spare. Just to check on my auctions. Just to finish that last turn-in. Just to do a couple of dailies. Just... and suddenly an hour is gone. Two hours. More.
And let's be honest: I don't really have a spare 10-15 hours a week to dump into WoW anymore. As part of my losing-weight-and-getting-healthy plan, I'm trying to exercise more: that's typically three or four nights a week that I'm going to the gym or firing up the Wii Fit, and there's not much time left over, afterward, for WoW. I've got scrapbooks I want to put together, and even if it's a slightly cheesy hobby, it's my slightly cheesy hobby. And when I'm done, I've got something I can hold in my hands, something I can point to and say, "I made this," with at least a modicum of satisfaction. How much pride can I take in a handful of video game characters? I've got projects I want to do around the house; I'd love to set aside some time to start writing again; I've got stacks of books I'd like to read. There are people I could socialize with in the real world; and failing all that -- heck, I could go to bed early and actually get some sleep!
WoW is an amazing game, and it keeps getting better. I love it that there's always something to do. (Matt quit, in part, because he didn't have any clear-cut goals for his characters. That's not my issue -- I have very specific goals for each of my characters right now.) The social component is still a big lure.
My mind is not 100% made up yet, but it's about 90% of the way there. I'm paid up through mid-July, and there's at least one thing I'd like to do in the game that I'd regret leaving behind. But it's something I can do in just a few play sessions, and when it's done...? I strongly suspect that this chapter will be over.
It's a fantastic game. Three years later, my "main" is level 80, I have an alt at 72 and another at 67, not to mention half a dozen lower-level characters on four different servers that were started and abandoned... and there are still zones I haven't explored, professions I haven't tried, races and classes I haven't played. That doesn't even count content like dungeons and raids that are still way out of my league.
But after a while, the "shiny" wears off, and you get a feel for the rhythm of the thing. For the types of quests offered (kill X of those, collect Y of these, retrieve this, deliver that, confront the boss mob, Go Over There). For the terrain (oh god, not more effing mountains). For the lore (begat, besmirched, betrayed). And once you reach that point, it's mostly a really gorgeous video game with a social component.
The social component has been the primary draw for me for the last year or so. Once the MeadeHall stuttered to a halt, WoW was one of the few places I could congregate with my friends.
Only lately, that's been sort of crumbling, too. It's not the game's fault, or ours. It's just the nature of the beast. When you're chatting via game interface, then the conversations become jagged, as you pause for combat or to wade through city chatter. And they tend to become encrusted with in-game concerns: showing off the latest awesome loot; asking for advice or help; complaining about that guy who just wiped the raid or stole your node. Intellectual intercourse and heart-to-heart discussions doesn't fit into the pattern of things very well. Without hyperbole: I have more in-depth conversations in Twitter than I do in Warcraft.
I took the month of December off from the game, and though I missed it, I didn't really long for it. I missed it in the way you miss your fingernails when they've been freshly trimmed, or that lock of hair you play with when it's been cut: I missed the habit of it. When I came back to the game in January, I tried to keep it from being a habit again, but I've noticed lately that it's trending that way again. I click on that icon whenever I've got ten minutes to spare. Just to check on my auctions. Just to finish that last turn-in. Just to do a couple of dailies. Just... and suddenly an hour is gone. Two hours. More.
And let's be honest: I don't really have a spare 10-15 hours a week to dump into WoW anymore. As part of my losing-weight-and-getting-healthy plan, I'm trying to exercise more: that's typically three or four nights a week that I'm going to the gym or firing up the Wii Fit, and there's not much time left over, afterward, for WoW. I've got scrapbooks I want to put together, and even if it's a slightly cheesy hobby, it's my slightly cheesy hobby. And when I'm done, I've got something I can hold in my hands, something I can point to and say, "I made this," with at least a modicum of satisfaction. How much pride can I take in a handful of video game characters? I've got projects I want to do around the house; I'd love to set aside some time to start writing again; I've got stacks of books I'd like to read. There are people I could socialize with in the real world; and failing all that -- heck, I could go to bed early and actually get some sleep!
WoW is an amazing game, and it keeps getting better. I love it that there's always something to do. (Matt quit, in part, because he didn't have any clear-cut goals for his characters. That's not my issue -- I have very specific goals for each of my characters right now.) The social component is still a big lure.
My mind is not 100% made up yet, but it's about 90% of the way there. I'm paid up through mid-July, and there's at least one thing I'd like to do in the game that I'd regret leaving behind. But it's something I can do in just a few play sessions, and when it's done...? I strongly suspect that this chapter will be over.
Sickies
So yeah, the scratchy throat turned into a Thing, and it was the kind of Thing where every time I spoke, people were backing away from me in alarm. (So naturally, Alex decided that he really would prefer me to be the one to read to him throughout all his waking hours...) Anyway, I went home early Wednesday, and worked from home Thursday morning. I went to the doctor Thursday afternoon, and he poked and prodded and "mm-hmm"ed at me, and said, "You're hitting all my favorite boxes on the Strep Checklist!"
So he stuck two huge q-tips down my throat and sent one off to the lab and put the other in a "quick strep test" kit, and while he was waiting for the quick test results, he called some antibiotics into my pharmacy, because even if I didn't have strep, I had something, and that something included an ear infection, so it was going to be antibiotics anyway.
The quick test came back negative, however -- much to my doctor's surprise, and he said he wasn't going to believe it until he'd gotten the results from the lab on Monday. And in the meantime, stay home, take it easy, blah blah blah. Antibiotics and cough syrup.
Friday, I was actually feeling almost human again. My voice was coming back -- still gravelly, but at least present. Still probably contagious, though, so I stayed home and worked from home for most of a full day. I got kind of tired and drained in the mid-afternoon, and gave up before I clocked a full 8 hours, but at least I didn't burn an entire vacation day on the whole mess. (I got so much done, too -- I really should work from home more often!)
It meant that Matt was the one to take Alex to see the Ear/Nose/Throat doctor Friday afternoon, though, since I didn't think I should spread my germs around. Not that there was a surprise: the doctor agreed that Alex's ears were a mess and gave us another round of antibiotics for him, plus some steroids to help him heal up faster, plus some ear drops. And he scheduled surgery to have tubes put in next month. (I like my ENT guy. He trusts his patients -- or their parents -- to know what's what. If we come in and say, "No, really, this calls for tubes," then he's not going to insist on messing around with another six months of antibiotics. I didn't think to ask if we should just get the adenoids at the same time and take care of it all in one fell swoop, though. Oh, well.)
Since Matt did that trip, I took Penny to her quarterly endocrinology checkup today. That went almost shockingly well -- she's a little taller than last time, sitting smack on the curve on the doctor's chart; her weight went up but only a little, so she's starting to level off a bit there; and her A1C came down from 7.9 to 7.8 (the recommended range for kids 6 and under is 7.5 to 8.5, so she's exactly where she should be). The doctor said she looked fine and fit and healthy, though since she's at a high risk for hypothyroidism, he wanted to do a blood check. Even that went spectacularly, though. I suggested that since she's a first grader now, she could be a big, brave girl, and she agreed, and so we went down to the lab and when they called us back, she sat on my lap and held my hand and didn't so much as wince when the nurse did the draw. I was so filled with pride that I did not protest even a little when she asked for the biggest toy in the prize basket (a teddy bear).
But that was today, and before today, there was the weekend. Which was quite good.
Saturday, our neighbors filled up Ray's inflatable pool, and Penny and Ray played for several hours. I brought Alex out after his nap, and though he was Very Reluctant to do anything but sit on my lap at first, Matt eventually coaxed him into the pool. (Let's go sit over here next to it... Hey, check it out, you can splash this water here, isn't that fun? Look, if you sit here you can dangle your feet in the water! Aaaand now we're wading around and pouring water on ourselves from a bucket!) Matt got completely drenched in the process, but Alex (and Penny and Ray) had a blast.
Sunday was Father's Day, of course, and that was good -- Penny made Matt breakfast on a tray (with some guidance from me) and gave him some cards and pictures she'd drawn, and then after Alex had his nap we went over to my parents' for dinner. I made dessert -- a recipe I adapted off the Weight Watchers website for individual-serving apple crumbles, and I'm sure I can shave another point off the recipe, because they were really too sweet. (And maybe even another point after that, though since cooking with sugar substitutes is tricky, that'll take some experimentation.) Anyway, my grandparents had a great time playing with the kids, and we got to visit with John some, which was nice since we hadn't seen him in person for a while.
So yeah. Sick, and then a pretty good weekend, and then a really excellent doctor's visit for Penny this morning. And that's why you haven't heard from me for a while.
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