"Back to school. Back to school. To prove to Dad that I'm not a fool. I've got my lunch packed up, my boots tied tight. I hope I don't get in a fight..."
School started today. T was very excited to be starting 1st grade. Adn while I am super happy he likes school, I still worry. I'm a worrier.
What if someone is mean to him? What if he loses his snack? What if he eats his snack on the bus and goes hungry at snack time? What if he bites it during gym class and cracks his big ol' noggin open? Will kids play with him at recess? What if they don't?
I can't help it. I think I've worried ever since I found out I was pg with him. And it's not just him, it extends to all 3 boys and their dad as well. Thankfully DH keeps me pretty grounded, but he doesn't ever hear the half of what I'm thinking and worrying about! There've been times when he's let me know after the fact that he was worried as well, but thankfully he keeps that to himself at the time. ;)
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
If the shoe fits...
There are times when I am definitely not a “girly girl”. I live in a house with 4 males after all. But other times…I swoon at the sight of something pretty. I gasped audibly at Carrie’s remodeled closet in SATC. Part of that might be from my love of organizing (which is slacking right now, but that’s again, a tale for another time). I think part of it was also the gesture of it. But another part of it was definitely the fact that it was a closet built for a girl’s girl. The shoe racks, the lights, the bright white clean décor. Ah. Beautiful.
I have a tendency to buy shoes and purses. I don’t know when or how this started. The purses I will at least use. The shoes – I love them but won’t wear half of them because they’re too high, or don’t fit *quite* right. But if it is on sale, I’m buying it. As my husband likes to say “we’ll go broke with all the money you save us.” I’m an impulse buyer, it’s true.
So I happened to be near Minneapolis for work earlier this week. There was no way I wasn’t stopping at the Coach outlet. No way. So yes, I stopped. And yes, I bought. In my defense, it ended up being discounted twice – first 15% off and then 50% off that reduced price. I snatched it off the shelf. Looked inside, put it over my arm and continued to walk the store. One of the sales staff told me not to put it down if I truly wanted it as it was the only one like it in the store. Oh don’t you worry, I will not let it go. Found a couple other cute things but I couldn’t put down my first choice. It is khaki and pink – but more of a peachy pink. So cute. So perfect.
I will never be mistaken for a fashionista, but that doesn’t mean I can’t go nuts for a pretty purse.
I have a tendency to buy shoes and purses. I don’t know when or how this started. The purses I will at least use. The shoes – I love them but won’t wear half of them because they’re too high, or don’t fit *quite* right. But if it is on sale, I’m buying it. As my husband likes to say “we’ll go broke with all the money you save us.” I’m an impulse buyer, it’s true.
So I happened to be near Minneapolis for work earlier this week. There was no way I wasn’t stopping at the Coach outlet. No way. So yes, I stopped. And yes, I bought. In my defense, it ended up being discounted twice – first 15% off and then 50% off that reduced price. I snatched it off the shelf. Looked inside, put it over my arm and continued to walk the store. One of the sales staff told me not to put it down if I truly wanted it as it was the only one like it in the store. Oh don’t you worry, I will not let it go. Found a couple other cute things but I couldn’t put down my first choice. It is khaki and pink – but more of a peachy pink. So cute. So perfect.
I will never be mistaken for a fashionista, but that doesn’t mean I can’t go nuts for a pretty purse.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Feelin Hot Hot Hot
How can a child go from 98.6 to 102.7 in the span of 2 hours of SLEEP?
Why do they always get a fever in the middle of the night? When they’re tired, you’re tired, and you have no idea what just woke you up?
J woke up last night and comes crying up the stairs. I meet him halfway, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him. So I tell him, let’s go into the bathroom and take your temp and get some medicine. He says no.
What?? No?? You LOVE medicine!!
No, he reiterates. Crying, with snot running down his face. Great. He has to go to the bathroom he says. So we go in, he does his business and then is ok to have some medicine. Ok, fine. So I lift him up to the counter and get out the thermometer (the ear kind, I can’t do the recommended kind – shudder). BEEP. 102.3 degrees. Awesome. So I grab the Motrin (well, generic since it was all recalled a couple months back).
No, no medicine he says. I want water first.
So I get him a glass of water.
Not THAT glass! I want Mickey!
Ok….deep breath. I go to the cupboard. No Mickey. He’s in the dishwasher. So I grab him out and wash him out. Mind you, we’ve got other Mickey Mouse glasses in the cupboard, but I *know* that they are not the one he is talking about.
Walk back into the bathroom where he’s still sitting on the counter. He can’t even hold the cup, he’s shaking so bad. Breaks my heart.
So I help him drink. And pour the Motrin.
No, no medicine he says. Oh for Pete’s sake. Immediately, I go from pity to pissed. Come on. Take your medicine. No. What about this medicine (holding up the generic Tylenol). Do you want red medicine instead of orange? No. I want another drink. This time he can hold it. So that’s good at least. Then I start the coaxing. You can have your medicine and then another drink and then you can sleep with mommy and daddy. Doesn’t that sound good?
He stares at me. Finally, he nods. YES!
So I pour the medicine in his mouth, hand him his water and then we head to my room.
Where I proceed to get kicked the rest of the night and end up with a heel in the eye.
But at least he’s not hot anymore, right?
Why do they always get a fever in the middle of the night? When they’re tired, you’re tired, and you have no idea what just woke you up?
J woke up last night and comes crying up the stairs. I meet him halfway, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him. So I tell him, let’s go into the bathroom and take your temp and get some medicine. He says no.
What?? No?? You LOVE medicine!!
No, he reiterates. Crying, with snot running down his face. Great. He has to go to the bathroom he says. So we go in, he does his business and then is ok to have some medicine. Ok, fine. So I lift him up to the counter and get out the thermometer (the ear kind, I can’t do the recommended kind – shudder). BEEP. 102.3 degrees. Awesome. So I grab the Motrin (well, generic since it was all recalled a couple months back).
No, no medicine he says. I want water first.
So I get him a glass of water.
Not THAT glass! I want Mickey!
Ok….deep breath. I go to the cupboard. No Mickey. He’s in the dishwasher. So I grab him out and wash him out. Mind you, we’ve got other Mickey Mouse glasses in the cupboard, but I *know* that they are not the one he is talking about.
Walk back into the bathroom where he’s still sitting on the counter. He can’t even hold the cup, he’s shaking so bad. Breaks my heart.
So I help him drink. And pour the Motrin.
No, no medicine he says. Oh for Pete’s sake. Immediately, I go from pity to pissed. Come on. Take your medicine. No. What about this medicine (holding up the generic Tylenol). Do you want red medicine instead of orange? No. I want another drink. This time he can hold it. So that’s good at least. Then I start the coaxing. You can have your medicine and then another drink and then you can sleep with mommy and daddy. Doesn’t that sound good?
He stares at me. Finally, he nods. YES!
So I pour the medicine in his mouth, hand him his water and then we head to my room.
Where I proceed to get kicked the rest of the night and end up with a heel in the eye.
But at least he’s not hot anymore, right?
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Hi ho, Hi ho, It's off to work I go!
Unless of course, I miss the plane.
A few years back a friend of mine was flying for her first time ever. She was extremely nervous about it. So nervous, that she was super early to the airport (DIA, nice airport). Since she was SO early, she decided to go have a drink at the bar in the terminal. Well, one drink turned into…let’s just say more than one. Eventually decided to say her farewells to the people she met at the bar and go back to her gate. She found her flight had left without her.
I’ve flown my fair share of times. Not a newbie, but not a real seasoned traveler either. I’ve flown for work, for pleasure, and for displeasure (traveling with kids, but that’s another story). I’m a bookie. Love to read. So I find airports and plane rides are perfect for me to catch up on a book or two.
When I’m at home reading, I can multi-task. I’m reading, watching tv, listening to the boys, listening to my husband, texting and surfing the interwebs. Get me into an airport and apparently I turn into a hermit and have no idea what is around me!
This past fall, I got to my gate at the Chicago airport and sat down with my book. I had two more in my luggage since I knew I’d finish this one quickly. I became immersed in the book. To the point where I didn’t hear them calling my flight. And you know airports – they call the flights NUMEROUS times before you have to run for the gate. Ah, I’m sitting at the gate, there’s no need to rush. Or pay attention.
Pretty soon, I think I hear my name. Hm, what was that? I look around. I don’t hear it again and I don’t see it on the screen. Huh, oh well. Must not have been. As I look around, I notice that it’s pretty dang empty at the gate now. Crap. Then I hear my name again. Yep, that’s me. So I get up and walk the 10 feet (yes, 10 feet) to the counter. Oops. I got to be the last one on the plane! Yay me!
I'm set to fly next week. Let's see how this one goes! :)
A few years back a friend of mine was flying for her first time ever. She was extremely nervous about it. So nervous, that she was super early to the airport (DIA, nice airport). Since she was SO early, she decided to go have a drink at the bar in the terminal. Well, one drink turned into…let’s just say more than one. Eventually decided to say her farewells to the people she met at the bar and go back to her gate. She found her flight had left without her.
I’ve flown my fair share of times. Not a newbie, but not a real seasoned traveler either. I’ve flown for work, for pleasure, and for displeasure (traveling with kids, but that’s another story). I’m a bookie. Love to read. So I find airports and plane rides are perfect for me to catch up on a book or two.
When I’m at home reading, I can multi-task. I’m reading, watching tv, listening to the boys, listening to my husband, texting and surfing the interwebs. Get me into an airport and apparently I turn into a hermit and have no idea what is around me!
This past fall, I got to my gate at the Chicago airport and sat down with my book. I had two more in my luggage since I knew I’d finish this one quickly. I became immersed in the book. To the point where I didn’t hear them calling my flight. And you know airports – they call the flights NUMEROUS times before you have to run for the gate. Ah, I’m sitting at the gate, there’s no need to rush. Or pay attention.
Pretty soon, I think I hear my name. Hm, what was that? I look around. I don’t hear it again and I don’t see it on the screen. Huh, oh well. Must not have been. As I look around, I notice that it’s pretty dang empty at the gate now. Crap. Then I hear my name again. Yep, that’s me. So I get up and walk the 10 feet (yes, 10 feet) to the counter. Oops. I got to be the last one on the plane! Yay me!
I'm set to fly next week. Let's see how this one goes! :)
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