You know how they have those fashion police shows where they critique all the awards show dresses? Well, let's take a look at Mr. Biscuit's outfit from today.
Biscuit is wearing a fabulous off-the-rack outfit in various shades of blue. We found it at a spring fashion event this year.
Okay, okay ... the fashion event was a church consignment sale, and the outfit was first worn by some other little boy last year, but even so, it's still fabulous!
When we got him dressed this morning, Biscuit told us that he was wearing "square beach pants."
Square beach pants, you ask? Yes. All shorts are beach pants. All plaids are squares. Therefore, square beach pants.
Then we move to the stuff all over his shirt. It doesn't show up well in this photo, but trust me when I say that his shirt is covered in smudges and smears.
"What's all over your shirt, Biscuit?" I asked.
"That snacks, Mom," he said. Well of course it is.
Then we can head down to his poor little bruised shins and boo-booed knee. His shorts are too long to see his knee, but Biscuit got his first Band-Aid-worthy knee scrape this past weekend. He was playing with my nephew (who is 5 years older) and thought he could do everything his cousin could do. Not quite. And he found that out the hard way.
As for the bruises, I think he might have inherited my bruise-ability. All the pictures of me as a kid during the summer show pale legs with brown and purple splotches. I was hoping that would be one trait Biscuit wouldn't get from me.
And lastly, the shoes. These beat-up, falling-apart, light-up Spider-Man shoes were a hand-me-down from Biscuit's cousin. Can you see the strap that has separated itself from its fastener?
I decided that they needed to go into hiding. Biscuit asked about them a couple of times, but it didn't seem to be a huge deal that they were gone.
And then, I made the mistake of taking him with me down the shoe aisle. And guess what he saw? Brand-new, super shiny, light-up Spider-Man shoes. "I haf them, Mom? I haf them?" he pleaded.
"Let's try them on," I told him.
Unfortunately, they had his size, and I had to buy them (see them in the top picture?). Have I mentioned that I hate shiny, light-up, character-ridden shoes? As I've said before, Biscuit loves them more than I hate them.
So if I had to give him a grade on his overall appearance, I'd have to give him an A+. But I think I'm a little biased.
Post-bath conversation with Biscuit:
Me: Let's get you dried off and lotioned up.
Biscuit: Then I have my Zyrtec?
For real? My 2 1/2-year-old just asked for his Zyrtec by name? He does have to take it nightly for seasonal allergies, but still, hearing words like "Zyrtec" come out my little man's mouth freaks me out!
I was watching Biscuit play week before last, and all I could think was that I want to be around to see every possible second of his life. I want to see him grow up and learn and eventually figure out what kind of man he wants to be.
But it also occurred to me that I really haven't been taking good care of myself lately. I've had some lingering issues that I haven't dealt with, and if I continue to let things go unchecked, I could be shorting myself time with Biscuit.
So the next day, I asked my friends and co-workers for recommendations, then I made a bunch of appointments - one for a yearly physical, one with an orthopaedic doctor, one for the dentist and one for the dermatologist. The dentist and yearly checkup are scheduled a little ways out, but the ortho and the dermatologist could see me right away.
I've had a problem with my right foot for a few years now. I had it checked out by a podiatrist, but he sort of dismissed it by saying, "It's hallux rigidus, which means that all the soft stuff that's usually between your big toe and your foot is gone. Lose some weight and wear good shoes." That was it.
Then I started having burning pain and numbness in my right thigh. So I checked in with my primary care doctor, and she said, "It's a pinched nerve. Stay off of it for a while, and it should get better. Oh, and lose some weight."
So that's two problems that greatly restrict my mobility, but both doctors say to lose weight. And how exactly can I lose weight when I can't walk any more than a block without getting serious leg and foot pain?
A couple of months ago, I started having sharp pain in the heel of my left foot. I was so dissatisfied with the whole podiatrist experience that I decided I'd see an orthopaedic doctor. I figured he or she might be able to help me.
Apparently, as a result of the problem in my right foot, I changed the way I walk and caused a pinched nerve in my right leg. Then when I started limping because of that, I developed plantar fasciitis in my left foot. Finally, someone has explained the whole thing to me in a way that makes sense and gives me a little hope.
I'm taking some anti-inflammatory drugs, and I had an appointment with a physical therapist this morning. The therapist showed me some stretches, performed an ultrasound treatment, medicated my whole heel through a weird little electrical current-dispensing device, and gave me a recommendation for tennis shoes. It's going to be a pain to do all the stuff I have to do, but hey, if it means I can keep up with my 2 1/2-year-old, I'll do whatever it takes!
It was kinda funny because the therapist said, "Do you have good tennis shoes?" to which I replied, "I have cute tennis shoes," to which he replied, "Let's talk about you getting some new tennis shoes. Then, I want you to wear them constantly for at least 8 weeks."
Eight weeks?!? But it's just getting warm enough to wear cute sandals!
Oh, and did I mention how much I had to pay for good tennis shoes, even with the coupon the physical therapist gave me? I went to a place where they watched me walk and looked at the paperwork from the doctor and physical therapist, then pulled several pairs for me to try. I hope they work well.
I have a few more physical therapy appointments, so cross your fingers that all goes well.
Meanwhile, at the dermatologist ...
I got what they call a full-body scan. It was, shall we say, a little invasive. There isn't a millimeter of me that the dermatologist didn't check for skin problems. I had four spots removed. I got the pathology report back today, and they were all atypical but not cancerous. That was good news.
The dermatologist said, "A lot of people have spots removed, then they worry about them until they get their report back." I told her, "Listen, I've got plenty to worry about without adding bad moles to the mix. I'm not going to panic until you tell me to."
The biggest pain has been caring for the removal spots. They're about as big around as the end of my pinkie finger, and not to get too gross, but the doctor just sliced the skin out, so they're just round, open wounds. The care is to gob Vaseline on them and keep them covered with Band-Aids.
The Vaseline is fine, but boy oh boy, the Band-Aids are leaving marks. Since the spots are on my back, Jeff handles the maintenance. He said he has been rotating the bandages a little bit at each application, which has helped. But now, he said I have red asterisk designs on my back from the Band-Aid irritation.
So that's more than you ever wanted to know about my feet and my skin. But hopefully, this will be a lesson to me that to take care of my Biscuit baby, I need to take care of myself, too.
Biscuit is crying in the bathtub right now. He's just miserable, wailing for his baseball and baseball bat and baseball hat.
Jeff, Biscuit and I went to a minor league baseball game tonight, thanks to some generous friends who weren't using their season tickets.
We had a couple of stops to make before we got to the ballpark. And at each stop, Biscuit said, "Noooow, we at baseball game?" Once we finally got there, we walked through the gate, Biscuit saw the players warming up on the field and yelled, "There's the baseball people! There's the baseball game!"
We got to the ballpark about 20 minutes before the game started, so we stopped off at a table to have an early dinner. You're not supposed to take food into the park, but they never say anything when I take a peanut butter sandwich and some crackers in for Biscuit. There aren't a lot of choices of food for a kid his age. Maybe next year.
When the time came for the national anthem, I helped Biscuit stand up in his chair, I pulled off his hat and told him we had to be quiet during the song. There was a color guard, so I pointed them out and told him to look at the flag while the group was singing. When the anthem was over, Biscuit saw the color guard going off the field and said, "They march, Mom. They march."
I like teaching Biscuit new things but especially when it's something meaningful, like taking his hat off and showing respect for the national anthem.
Jeff has to cover baseball for work. He wasn't working tonight, but he said if they had a particularly good or bad night, he might need to get a couple of quotes from the coaches or the manager and maybe the owner after the game. But even when he isn't working, Jeff has a hard time enjoying a game like a regular fan. He still has an objective eye on both teams. I think that's because he never knows if he might have to write a story about what happens.
But Jeff is crazy about baseball. He knows so much about the sport and about the teams who play it. Sometimes it amazes me the information that comes out of his mouth. Tonight, in the fifth inning, this guy came up to bat, and Jeff said, "This guy is due for a home run. It's about time."
I asked him how he knew, and he said, "Well, this is his third at-bat, so he's faced this pitcher twice in this game. Plus, the pitcher got called on a balk on the batter before this one. That means the pitcher is frustrated, so he's not concentrating, which means he'll probably throw a straight fastball. And the guy at bat, he's a great fastball hitter."
Just as soon as Jeff stopped talking, the batter smacked the ball out of the park. I looked at him, and he had this cocky grin on his face. "Told ya," he said.
I'd love for Biscuit to enjoy watching baseball. I'd love it even more if he wanted to play. And I would love it even more than that if he played and was good at it. Jeff is the kind of person and dad who would be supportive but not pushy or overbearing if Biscuit was on a team. Even when his favorite pro team loses, he'll say something like, "They should've played better." And that's it. No pouting. No sulking. No temper tantrums.
Our team won tonight, 7-3. There were some home runs and good defensive plays. Biscuit had plenty to keep him occupied and interested.
After the game, Jeff decided he did need to head down to talk to some people. Biscuit and I walked down the stairs with him, but we stopped short of where Jeff was going.
Below the stands, they have a batting cage with fake grass and buckets of balls and nets. Biscuit was fascinated by the grass inside the house. And the buckets of balls. And then he saw the team dogs - Babe Ruth and Yogi Berra. And then a guy named Spazz stopped by. Spazz is sort of like the court jester of the games. He runs the silly games between innings. He dances on top of the dugouts. He's quite an entertainer. He runs around a lot during the games, so I know he was tired when he walked by us. But even so, he stopped, squatted down to Biscuit's level and talked to him for a few minutes.
He asked Biscuit his name. Then he asked him how old he is. Biscuit answered him, then Spazz looked at me like he was impressed and said, "Is he really only 2? He speaks like a 5-year-old." I smiled and nodded my head.
"Are you going to enter the Scripps-Howard Spelling Bee next year?" Spazz asked. Biscuit just smiled and said, "Yeah." Spazz asked who Biscuit's favorite baseball team is, so I leaned down and whispered "Hoppers" in his ear. "Hoppers," Biscuit whispered (if you whisper to him, he whispers back). Spazz asked for a high-five, Biscuit obliged, then just looked up at me and just grinned.
A couple of the off-duty pitchers walked by us and spoke to Biscuit and complimented him on his team hat. The team owner came back by with his two dogs, and Biscuit got to pet them and talk to them.
Everybody who came by was just really nice to us, especially Biscuit. I guess it surprised me because you think that at the end of their day, they would all just want to go home to bed. But each person who came by took the time to speak or make some kind of fuss over Biscuit.
We had a really, really nice night. There was nothing especially unusual about it. We just had a good time together. And our team won. It was a good night at the ballpark.
A few fun things Biscuit is saying right now:
Assident: I almost tripped over Biscuit the other day because I didn't know he was standing behind me. "I'm sorry, Biscuit," I said. "That's okay, Mom. It was a assident."
Assanaut: Biscuit had on a new pair of pajamas. I'm not sure how he knew who the character was, but he looked down and said, "COO-UHL! That Buzz. Buzz a assanot in outer space." First, how does he know who Buzz Lightyear is when he hasn't seen "Toy Story," and secondly how does he know about astronauts in outer space? We're hearing him say more and more things that cause us to look at each other and say, "Where the heck did he hear that?!?"
Um, let's see: If you ask Biscuit a question, no matter if he knows the answer or not, he'll twist his little mouth up and say, "Um, let's see," before he answers.
Nice to meet you: I'm not sure if they've been learning new manners at day care or what, but Biscuit walked up to me this morning and said, "Hey, Mama." I said hey back, then he said, "It's nice to meet you." It caught me off guard because like I said before, I have no idea where this came from. So I said, "It's nice to meet you, too." And he smiled and walked away.
Smider-Man: Josh's hand-me-down light-up Spider-Man shoes finally gave up the ghost, and I can't say I was too sad about it. But Biscuit kept asking for them. I knew they had a new crop of those same shoes at the store we usually go to, so I decided I would push our buggy down the shoe aisle and see if he noticed them. He did. As soon as we got to where they were, he said, "Mom, Mom. Smider-Man shoes. Smider-Man shoes." He used to called them "pider" shoes, so I'm not sure when Smider-Man started.
So I bought him a new pair of shoes, and he was more than a little excited. But I wanted to tell him how to say the name of the character on his shoes. So I said, "Sp- Sp- Spider-Man," and he said, "Sm- Sm- Smider-Man." I didn't push it. He'll get it someday. And then, out of nowhere, he said, "C- C- Mickenus." What?!? I guess he thought he was doing the same thing I was doing. He's a funny little man.
I had the brilliant idea of taking Biscuit to the park for Easter photos. I thought it would be a nice surprise for Biscuit's grandmothers. Little did I know.
Jeff went to pick Biscuit up at day care while I ran home and rounded up some khaki pants, a spring-colored plaid shirt and dressier shoes and Biscuit's Easter basket, stuffed bunny and some plastic eggs. I grabbed the camera bag and headed to a pretty garden we have here in town.
Biscuit was wearing pajamas (see previous post) because it was PJ Day at day care, so I had to do a quick costume change with him before I started taking pictures. And that's when the fun started. He didn't want to take off his spider shoes (Spiderman). He didn't want to take off his car pants. He said his pants were too big. I wanted to layer a white T-shirt under the plaid shirt, but he didn't want two shirts.
Then it got even better. There were dogs, other kids, a woman on roller-blades, a creek, lots of brightly colored flowers, and they were all more interesting to look at than my camera lens. Plus, he didn't want to smile. He didn't want to stand still. He didn't want to do anything that would've ensured a nice photo.
My camera has a rapid-fire function where if I hold down the shutter release, it will take three photos per second. So when I got Biscuit into even a remotely photograph-able position, I just held down that button. I took 128 pictures that evening, and you know how many good photos I got out of that 128? Seven. SEVEN!
Anyway, here are a few of the good shots I got.
In continuing the Week of the Young Child at Biscuit's day care, today was Pajama Day.
Biscuit got really excited when he realized that he could wear his "car pants" all day today.
We decided to have dinner out tonight. That in itself wasn't an issue. Biscuit is really good in restaurants. We've worked really hard to make it that way.
But every once in a while, he forgets all the things we've taught him about restaurants. That combined with the fact that we spent an hour shopping in Target and I broke the cardinal rule of motherhood by not having Goldfish in my pocketbook, combined with the fact that Biscuit is still getting over a cold, combined with the fact that our server was a bit pokey and we didn't get our food until about 20 minutes after Biscuit's usual dinner time. Put it all together and what do you have?
ONE GIANT MELTDOWN!!!!!
It took longer than usual for our server to greet us. We ordered our drinks and food all at once, hoping it would expedite the whole process. We sat for quite a while, then he brought back drinks, including the wrong thing for Biscuit. You wouldn't think it would take very long to go back and get the right drink. But I think he got lost between our table and the kitchen. We also asked him to bring back a bread basket so we could get some kind of food into the boy.
In the meantime, Biscuit sees food on all the tables around us and realizes he has nothing. Not even a drink. MELTDOWN!!!
Jeff took him outside for a few minutes, then I called his cell phone to tell him the bread basket and Biscuit's drink had finally arrived. That made life better for a little while. He ate half a piece of bread and had some drink. Then he realized he didn't have any real food. MELTDOWN!!!
I took him out of his high chair and calmed him down some. Our food finally came, and things seemed to settle down a little. Biscuit ate a few bites, then he dropped his fork. We didn't have a spare fork at the table, and our server was nowhere to be found. MELTDOWN!!!
Jeff gave Biscuit his fork. I ate a few more bites then gave Jeff my fork. I had so been looking forward to eating out, but I was not having fun. It was not relaxing. I found myself shoveling in my food instead of relaxing and enjoying it.
I shouldn't complain because restaurant experiences like tonight are so few and far between with Biscuit. But man, when the bill comes and you see the total, it's a whole lot better when you feel like you enjoyed what you paid for.
This week is Week of the Young Child, and each day has a different theme. Today was Wacky Day. They encouraged parents to dress their kids in clothes that don't match, do fun things with their hair, etc.
Mr. Man doesn't allow anything unusual to happen to his hair, so the best we could do was put him in some non-matching clothes.
Check out his Wacky Day outfit.
Biscuit and I were playing a game we created called "What's That?"
Well, it's not really a game. And we don't really call it that. But it was fun.
I would point at something near the kitchen table and say, "What's that?" and Biscuit would answer. Then Biscuit would point at something and ask me what it was, and I would answer him. The best part is that we started naming the objects in weird voices and giggling like idiots. It was completely one of those moments when you hope there's nobody peeking in your windows, else the padded wagon might pull into your yard and haul you away to the looney bin.
So when my turn came around again, I pointed at the red runner-type rug in the hallway and said, "What's that?"
"That a red path, Mom," Biscuit said.
"A red path?" I asked.
"Yeah. A red path to walk on," he said. And you know what? It does look like a red path to walk on.
That boy's logic continues to amaze me and crack me up at the same time.
We went to my nephew's 7th birthday party this past weekend. It's about a 2 1/2-hour drive, so sometimes we need to create games or songs to keep Biscuit occupied during the trip.
And let me interrupt my story to say that there is never a time I feel like more of a family than when the three of us are in a car together. There's something about being in such close quarters, and we're all traveling together. It's just a great feeling to be with my two favorite boys.
Anyway, we were about halfway there, and Biscuit said, "Mom, I want go my house."
I said, "We're going to Grandmama's house."
"We see Ganmama?" he asked.
"Yeah. We'll see Grandmama and Papa. Who else do you think we'll see?" I asked him.
He started naming over my brother, sister-in-law and nieces and nephew.
Then he said, "Cool, Mom! We see ALL my peoples."
"Yep," I said. "We're going to see all your people."
Who knew bubbles were so dangerous?
This week is Week of the Young Child at Biscuit's daycare. Each day has a different theme, like tomorrow is Wacky Day when the kids can wear clothes that don't match or do something weird with their hair. Thursday is pajama day.
The special treat for today was a bubble machine during their recess time. The kids were so excited and having so much fun, their recess turned into an hour and a half of kids going nuts over bubbles.
A certain little man that we all know and love got a little too excited and tripped over his own feet.
Check out the decoration he got on his nose.
Jeff saw the picture of Biscuit with the raised eyebrow and realized it reminded him of a raised eyebrow he had seen before. Check this out. It's Biscuit vs. Belushi.
I was talking to Biscuit at the dinner table tonight, and he gave me quite a look.
"What did you say, Mama?" he asked, with a bit of attitude and this look ...
Did I mention that Jeff can't do his eyebrows like this? Boy am I proud that I can take full credit!
But also like me, he couldn't stay serious for very long, and I got this sweet smile.
I am not a perfect mother. Far from it, I'm sure.
But when I'm standing in the pocketbook section of a store, and I can hear you scream at your child at the checkout, I think my ranking on the scale of good parenting rises up a few points.
I don't know what was going on up there. I don't know what the kid did or didn't do or what kind of day the mother was having. But I tell you what I do know.
I know that no kid needs to be screamed at that way. If you need to reprimand your kid, fine. But there's no reason to be in his face yelling so loudly that he's flinching with every word you spit out.
I can't stop thinking about that little boy. If his mother treats him that way in public, I just wonder how she treats him in private.
Children are too precious to be treated with anything but love and patience and kindness.
Now, don't think that I have some precious little angel who does no wrong. Biscuit has his moments. I had a conversation with Jeff this morning about our sweet baby that included the phrase "drop kick him out the back door."
But I also reminded myself that he's a child. He's learning and growing and testing his boundaries. He is innocent and trusting, and the worst thing I could do for him would be to ruin that innocence and trust.
I hope and pray that I can always remember that ... even when I want to drop kick him out the back door.
There is a Mustang commercial that uses the song "Light of the Morning" that will bring Biscuit running from another room.
He has loved that commercial ever since they first started showing it. I'm not sure if it's the car (Mama's favorite kind of car) or the song (he nods his head along with the music), but the boy loves it.
Here's a link to the commercial: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZAX550biM7c
A post from The Daddy Man:
Kimmy writes about some of the funny things Biscuit says, but I had a couple to add this week.
Biscuit loves to ask us questions. His favorite question for a while was "What your favorite animal?"
Then he moved on to asking about our favorite foods. "What your favorite something to eat?" he'll ask.
I answered him one time, telling him that my favorite is sandwiches. He replied, "No, Dad. Your favorite something to eat is hot dog." I can't recall him seeing me eat a hot dog since we were at a Grasshoppers game last year.
His new question is "What your favorite truck?"
My answer was, "My favorite truck is a regular cab pickup truck."
"A pickle truck, Dad?" I had to laugh at that one.
- - - - - - - -
Today, I picked up Biscuit at day care. He had a good day, so he was pretty excited when I got there. I buckled him into his seat, and we headed toward home.
"We go to see Babycakes now, Dad?" Biscuit asked. "We see Babycakes?"
Babycakes is what I call Kimmy sometimes, but it sounded pretty funny coming out of Biscuit's mouth.
Biscuit's day care class has a different learning theme each week, and this week was Bug Week.
They learned about all kinds of bugs. They read books about bugs. And today, they made cookies that look like bugs. Biscuit was pretty excited about showing his bug cookie to us when he got home, so I thought I'd document it for him.
"What it is?" I asked Biscuit.
"It's a bug, Mom!" Biscuit said.
"What kind of bug?" I asked.
"A bug, Mom!" he said.
I guess that's good enough. Here's happy Biscuit and his bug cookie.
Biscuit is wearing a fabulous off-the-rack outfit in various shades of blue. We found it at a spring fashion event this year.
And lastly, the shoes. These beat-up, falling-apart, light-up Spider-Man shoes were a hand-me-down from Biscuit's cousin. Can you see the strap that has separated itself from its fastener?
