Out of the mouth of my babe

Sorry if you're tired of reading "Out of the mouth of my babe" posts, but dude has been saying some fun stuff lately!

A few things Biscuit has been saying:

Grandparents: Biscuit and I were on the way to day care, and out of nowhere, he started talking about my parents.

"Mom, um, Grandmama is my abuela," Biscuit said. "Abeula" is Spanish for grandmother.

"Yes, she is," I said. "And what is Papa?"

He shrugged his shoulders with his hands out and said, "Papa is just Papa," Biscuit said.

"Isn't Papa your abuelo?" I asked him.

"No, Mom," Biscuit said, laughing. "He's just Papa. And Grandmama and Papa are married. And they love each other."

Lego creation: Biscuit had built some odd-looking little contraption out of his Lego blocks. With his creation in his hand, he came running over to me all excited.

"Mom, this is my flying Batman-bo-beel (translation: flying Batman-Mobile). It has wheels and wings and two Batmans. It will fly, and it will roll. It's cooooool, Mom."

I could tell he was really proud, so I made an appropriate fuss. Although I must say, I think for the time being that Biscuit is an abstract artist. I couldn't really make out anything remotely resembling a Batmobile. But hey, if it makes him proud, who am I to question it?

Reasoning skills: Jeff and I are amazed sometimes at explanations and situations Biscuit comes up with. He's really good at taking things he's learned and applying them to other situations. The other night, he came up with a pretty logical solution to getting his fire chief and his car out of a ditch.

"Mom, the fire chief's car is stuck in a ditch," Biscuit said. "I'm going to call Mater to come from his home in Radiator Springs to pull the chief car out of the ditch. 'Cause Mater is a tow truck, and that's what tow trucks do." Mater, aka Tow-mater, is from the movie "Cars."

"What will you do if Mater can't get him out?" I asked.

"Um, if that doesn't work, I'll call the pumper fire truck to come out and spray lots of water in the ditch," Biscuit said. "Then, when the ditch is full of water, the chief car will float right out."

There are some grownups who couldn't reach that logic, so we were pretty impressed with our boy.

The county line

Jeff, Biscuit, my niece and I were on the way home from the baseball game last weekend, and as we crossed over the county line, I giggled.

"I know it's crazy, but 10 years later, I still get the flutters when I pass the county line sign," I said.

Jeff smiled because he knew exactly what I was talking about. And to tell the truth, I had forgotten that my niece was in the car.

"Aunt Kim, what are you giggling about?" my niece asked.

Uh-oh. Now I had to tell her the story.

"Well, this is the story of how Uncle Jeff and I started officially dating," I said.

"Cool," my niece said.

It had never occurred to me that she didn't know that story and many others about Jeff and me. She was still a tiny little thing when we started dating.

"Well," I said. "Uncle Jeff and I used to work at night, from 5 p.m. to 1 a.m. A lot of nights when we'd get off work, a bunch of us would swap off going to each other's houses to watch movies. Uncle Jeff and I had been friends ever since he started working at the paper, but I was starting to think about wanting him to be more than a friend."

"I decided that I needed to tell him how I felt. It was scary, though, because I didn't think he felt the same way about me. So I practiced a speech in my head and decided that I'd tell him exactly what had been on my mind."

"When I was working those late hours, I would leave after work and drive to Grandmama and Papa's house in the middle of the night. I would get to their house in time to eat breakfast with them, then they would go to work, and I would go to bed. When they got home from work, I'd be up and dressed so we could spend the evening together. I had Wednesdays and Thursdays as my days off, so Friday afternoon, I would drive back and go straight to work. I know some people would think that was crazy, but that way, I never got off my regular schedule."

"Anyway, we were at our friend's house watching a movie one Tuesday night. My plan was to leave after the movie and drive to Grandmama and Papa's house for my days off. So I decided that I was going to tell Uncle Jeff how I felt, then when he told me he just wanted to be friends, which is what I totally expected him to do, I could drive to Grandmama's house, and she could spend the weekend making me feel better."

"After the movie was over, Uncle Jeff walked me to my car. He could tell something was bothering me, so he asked me what was wrong. I couldn't look him in the face, so I remember looking at the asphalt parking lot. The way the street light was shining down, the asphalt almost looked sparkly. It's weird how you remember little details like that."

"Uncle Jeff said, 'Are you okay?' and I said, 'Not really.'" He asked me what was going on, and I started in on the speech I had practiced. I said, 'I need to tell you something, and I just want you to remember that I'm putting our friendship and my dignity on the line.'"

"So I told him that I enjoyed spending time with him as a friend, but that lately, I had been feeling something more. Then I told him I loved him. When I had practiced my speech, I had thought he would say something like 'that's nice, but I just see you as a friend.' But instead, he said he loved me, too."

"I just stared at him. I had no idea what to say because that wasn't at all what I was expecting to hear from him."

"After we talked for a while, we hugged, and I got in my car. Then I drove 2 1/2 hours to Grandmama's house. I really wanted to stay here and talk to Uncle Jeff some more, but it was the middle of the night, and Grandmama was expecting me to be at her house in time for breakfast."

"I spent the weekend with Grandmama and Papa, but I didn't tell them about Uncle Jeff. I was still trying to figure out what was going to happen with us."

"I left Friday to head to work, and I was completely distracted for the entire trip. The closer I got, the more nervous I got. I looked up and saw the sign at the county line, and I got all kinds of butterflies in my belly. Now, every time I see a sign with the county name on it, I still feel butterflies and get giggly."

"Of course, I got to work that night, and I was scared to death. Uncle Jeff and I hadn't talked since that night, and I was worried he might have changed his mind about what he said or that I had somehow just imagined the whole thing. But not long after I turned on my computer, I got a message from Uncle Jeff saying, 'Hey. How was your trip? Want to get dinner?' I knew then that everything would be fine."

"It's funny, too, because when we started telling our friends that we were going to start dating, a lot of them said things like, 'Well, duh!' or 'It's about time.' Apparently, everybody but us could see that there was something more than friendship between us. It just took Uncle Jeff and me longer to figure it out."

My niece seemed to really enjoy hearing that story. She even mentioned it a couple of times during the weekend. That got me to thinking that we'd get to tell these stories to Biscuit someday, too. And depending on his age, I guess he'll either think it's a cool story or he'll say something like, "Eeeewwww, Mom!"

Out of the mouth of my babe

A few things Biscuit has been saying lately:

 

5th Disease: Biscuit still has some red splotches on his face and arms because of the 5th Disease. And even though he hasn't acted like he's felt bad, I still worry about him.

"Are you doing okay?" I asked him.

 "Yeah, Mom. I feel very much good," Biscuit said.

I hope that continues to be his answer because I feel like until every last splotch is gone, I'm gonna keep asking.

Very observant: I was watching a sitcom the other night, and the characters were taking part in a quiz bowl. Biscuit walked into the living room, and watched a couple of minutes of the show. He saw the characters hitting the buzzers and answering questions.

"Hey, Mom. It's like 'Jeopardy'," Biscuit said.


"Yes, it kind of is," I said. Not much gets by that boy.

Say that three times fast: Biscuit and I were playing in the living room this afternoon. I had been Little Red Riding Hood, Calamity Jane, the fire department dispatcher and the pet food store man. Biscuit had taken on assorted roles as well, but I think this one was my favorite.

"Mom, I'm Ginger The Big Brother Dog That Yes Can Talk," Biscuit said.

 

Using his resources: "Mom, did you lose the mote control for the TV?" Biscuit asked.

"Yes, I did," I told him. "I misplaced the remote control."

Biscuit picked up his walkie-talkie (or hawkie-talkie as he calls it), and said, "This is Firefighter Ronnie Gage. Hey, mote control. Where are you? Over."

He nodded his head like someone was talking to him on the other end, then he said, "Don't worry, Mom. I'm calling for backup. We'll find it."

"You're a good helper, Firefighter Ronnie Gage," I said.

Out of the mouth of my babe

Here are a few things Biscuit has been saying lately:

Abracadabra: Jeff threw a few magazine pages onto the campfire when we were in the mountains, and for some reason, Biscuit hasn't forgotten it. 

Every time I pick up a magazine in front of him, he holds his hands up in front of him and says, "Dad threw those pages on that fire and POOF! They disappeared!" And he flips his hands like he's just done some magic.

He's the best: We were getting ready to leave this morning, and I told Biscuit to get whatever toys he wanted to take. (He still loves to have a car or horse in each hand when we leave the house.)

"Mom," Biscuit said. "I want Dad to take me to day care."

"Okay," I said. "Is there any particular reason you don't want to go with me?"

"Yeah," Biscuit said. "Dad is my favorite."

"You don't love me anymore?" I teased Biscuit.

"I love you, Mom," Biscuit said. "But Dad is my favorite."

Ready, set, go: Jeff and Biscuit race Biscuit's little cars all the time. They line up the cars, then one of them will say, "Racers start your engines!"

The other night, Biscuit was wearing his cowboy boots and his cowboy hat in the living room. 

"Mom, we're gonna have a horse race," Biscuit said as he grabbed his stick horse Jake and jumped straddle of it. "You know what you say next, Mom?"

"What?" I asked him.

"HORSES START YOUR NAYS!" Biscuit yelled. "That's how they start their engines, Mom."

Family night

Poor Biscuit's cheeks are all red and splotchy, but every time I ask him how he's feeling, he says, "I'm good, Mom." I ask him if anything hurts, and he says, "Nope. I'm fine." He's also not contagious anymore, so when I found out that Jeff had to go to a work event this evening, Biscuit and I headed to our favorite store and walked around for a while. 

We strolled through the clothes. Then we made our way over to the toy department where Biscuit got to "press" buttons on two toys.

I put "press" in quotes is because that's one of the non-Southern things my boy says. In the South, we "mash" buttons; we don't "press" them.

Anyway, we finished up in toys and headed over to get some cereal and apple juice. We stopped by the pharmacy for Jeff's decongestant. Biscuit struck up a conversation with the pharmacist and got a "lollipop." (I grew up calling them "suckers.")

Jeff got home shortly after Biscuit and I did. We made sandwiches for dinner, then it was play time. We put together an alphabet puzzle. Then we played Spanish bingo (it's a cute game where you call out Spanish words and phrases, like dog, cat, apple, table, boy, flower, something brown, something oval, etc., instead of numbers). Then we played with Play-Doh and cookie cutters.

It was a nice evening just to hang out together.

Check out my poor boy:

Two down and hopefully none to go

Biscuit has 5th Disease. I am completely confused because we thought he had 5th Disease the week before I got it. Apparently, that was not the case.

When I got Biscuit out of the tub last night, I noticed a rash on his shoulder and neck. I figured something had irritated his skin, so I put hydrocortisone on it. 

This morning, when I got Biscuit out of bed, I noticed that the rash had spread to one side of his face. He's had a scratchy throat for a couple of days, but he hasn't had a fever, and he hasn't acted like he felt sick.

I wanted some advice, so I called the nurse-on-call at Biscuit's pediatrician's office, still having no thought that it could be 5th Disease. I explained the symptoms, and she was concerned that he might have strep throat. I've heard of people having rashes when they had strep throat, so when she said we should make an appointment, we did. The office was completely booked up today, so the first appointment we could get was at 6 p.m.

I took Biscuit to day care and explained what was going on. Their main concern was whether he had a fever or not. When I told them he didn't, they said it was fine to leave him.

But then they called this afternoon to tell me that the rash had spread to the other side of his face and that I needed to come pick him up. I can't blame them for calling. Without knowing what was wrong with him, there was no way to tell if he was contagious or not.

Jeff and I worked it out so that I would pick up Biscuit and take him home while Jeff would finish out his work day. Then Jeff would meet Biscuit and me at the doctor's office for the appointment. Then Jeff would take Biscuit home, and I would go back to work to finish up what I had to leave this afternoon.

It probably sounds complicated, but I'm just really thankful that our jobs allow enough flexibility to work around these situations.

As Biscuit and I were getting ready to leave the house, I yelled for him to grab his shoes and bring them to the living room. He was wearing khaki shorts and a red T-shirt. Want to know which shoes he came back with? His tan and camouflage cowboy boots. 

I considered making him change into sandals or tennis shoes, but he was clearly pleased with his shoe selection. And then, just to complete the look, he grabbed his red cowboy hat on the way out the door.

His outfit, plus the fact that when the nurse called him, he galloped all the way back to the examination room, made him a big hit at the doctor's office.

On the way to the office, Biscuit saw a big white airplane with a red tail. (We live near the airport.)

"Mom, when we get to the doctor's office, do you think the doctor would like to know that I saw a big ol' airplane that was white on the front and red on the back?" Biscuit asked.

"I bet the doctor would like to know that," I said. "You be sure to tell her when we get there." And of course I was thinking he wouldn't remember to tell her.

But he did, and she played along.

"Of COURSE I'm excited to hear that you saw a plane like that," she said. "That's really cool."

Poor Biscuit's face looks like he's been slapped around a bit. It's all red and splotchy on both sides. But since 5th Disease is a virus, there's nothing we can do for him.

He's acting fine and says he doesn't hurt anywhere, so we just have to wait for it to move out of his little body. Now we're just praying that Jeff doesn't get it.

Old is new again

A post from The Daddy Man:

I was researching a story on the Internet recently. I needed to find an obscure autograph-model glove for a detail in the story. And up popped 10 pages of vintage baseball gloves on eBay.

Just out of curiosity, I scrolled through the 10 pages to see which players had autograph-model gloves. That's when I came across a 1970s Wilson youth model, all-leather baseball glove with George Brett's name on it. 

George Brett was one of my favorite players to watch when I was growing up (even though he was probably the King of all Yankee Killers, and I'm a Yankees fan). I liked watching him play because he did everything well. And he had a lot of hustle.

That glove brought back some good memories for me because I had high school teammates who had the adult-size model of that same glove. And I really liked that it was all leather. Those are harder to find these days.

So when I noticed that the Buy It Now price was only $5 and some change, I couldn't resist.

Apparently, it was previously owned by a kid named Cody. I know this because the faded letters of Cody's name are written in Sharpie marker across the fingers in the glove.

No matter, though. It will serve its purpose. My boy now has a genu-wine antique baseball glove to play with. Now if he will just decide whether he wants to catch right-handed or left-handed.

A good decision

We gave my niece the choice last night of going to a short-track car race or a minor league baseball game. She enjoys baseball and racing, so I knew either event would be okay with her.

What I didn't know was that she had never been to a professional baseball game, so that's what she chose.

Our local minor league team was out of town this weekend, so we decided to drive one town over (about 40 minutes away) for a game with a different team. We had some rain on the way to the game, but we figured as often as summer storms move in and out around these parts, that we should be fine by the time the game started.

None of us had been to this particular ball field before, so we just tried to follow everybody else for parking. But by the time we found a spot and got out of the car, we didn't see any other people around. So we followed a sidewalk toward the field.

Little did we know, we had gone completely the wrong way. The reason we didn't see anyone by the time we got out of our car is because they all got out and headed left toward the ticket booth. The ticket booth that was located in the outfield. IN THE OUTFIELD. Who has ever heard of a box office in the outfield?!?

Unfortunately, we didn't figure this out until we were standing at an "employees only" door on the opposite side of the field. We finally found someone who worked at the field and asked him where we could get tickets. He gave us the bad news that we had to walk all the way around the outside of the stadium. 

Oh, did I mention that it was mostly uphill, and it was 90 degrees?

We finally got our tickets, then we had to walk all the way back to the opposite side of the field because our seats were near third base.

We never got rained on, but during the third inning, Jeff told me niece she had made a good choice. He pointed at the rumbling sky and said, "See those nasty-looking clouds and that lightning over there? Well, that's about where the racetrack is, so choosing baseball over racing was a good thing tonight."

Here are a couple of pictures of Jeff and Biscuit at the game and several photos of the ever-changing sky while we were there.

Pool party

My niece came to our house for the weekend. She lives about 2 1/2 hours away from us, so we met her parents halfway between our house and theirs to pick her up Friday morning.

It's funny, but my niece and Biscuit look more like each other than my niece and her brother and sister. She has dark blonde hair and blue eyes just like Biscuit.

So far, my niece and I have been to the movies. We all went out for dinner then frozen yogurt last night. We're planning to go to a ballgame tonight. Then we'll make some kind of plan for getting her home Sunday.

But this morning, I took my niece and Biscuit to a really nice pool near our house.

They have a regular pool with a slide and a diving board. They have a sprayground with a bunch of water sprayers and a big drain in the middle. There's no standing water, so anybody can go in there. Then there's a zero-entry kiddie pool. The front half has some water sprayers, then there's a rope separating the front from the deeper back part. It's 3 1/2 feet deep.

All worries that my boy inherited my fear of water were quickly erased this morning. He walked straight into the pool, all the way to the rope, then asked my niece if she would lift him over the rope so he could go deeper.

She caught him at the bottom of the slide a few times. Then she pulled him around the pool as he "swam." He flung his arms and kicked his feet, and my niece was really surprised at how comfortable he seemed.

I called Jeff and told him we need to get the boy some swimming lesson as soon as possible. 

Jeff isn't afraid of the water, but when he was a kid, he had a choice of swimming lessons or playing baseball. Anybody who knows Jeff knows that decision was a no-brainer. So although he can swim some, he said he'd rather have someone teach Biscuit how to do it right. And I agree.

But from what I saw this morning, it shouldn't take much at all to get him swimming like a fish.

Here are a few pictures from the morning:

Biscuit speaks

Most days, I love to hear Biscuit talk. (Of course, some days I feel like if he says "Mom" or asks "why" one more time, I might lose my mind.)

Ever since Biscuit has been talking (and that's been a while now), we've really enjoyed hearing his version of how words can sound. By the time he was just over a year old, he could say "Mama," "Dada," "bye" and "uh-oh." After another few months, he was saying "ball," "car," "baby," "dog" and "duck."

Pretty soon, we noticed that Biscuit was sounding more like me than Jeff.

Jeff says "dahg," but I say "dawg." Jeff says "bahl," but I say "bawl."

Once Biscuit got bigger, his speech started to sound more like the other kids at day care. And they sound more like Jeff than me. I'm fine with that because people who "ain't from around here" often treat Southerners like they're stupid, just because their speech is different. More than once in my lifetime, I've wanted to set aside the manners my Mama taught me and share some of the not-nice words I know with people who make assumptions based on such superficial things.


Anyway, my brother's kids definitely have Southern accents. They sound exactly like I did when I was a kid. Of course, they're growing up where I grew up, so I wouldn't expect any different.


But what was really fascinating to me recently was that for a week or so after our family trip, Biscuit sounded exactly like them. Instead of applesauce, he would ask for apple-sawce. The syllables of his words got longer and more drawn out. He also started calling me "Mama."


His new-found Southern accent was soon gone. Now, he's back to sounding more like Jeff and his day care friends.


Biscuit doesn't meet any strangers. He'll have a conversation with almost anybody. So however Biscuit ends up sounding, I just hope he keeps talking.

Out of the mouth of my babe

As quickly as it came ... it went away.

Okay, that's not entirely true, but my 5th Disease symptoms are much improved. I have full use of my hands again (I even opened my own drink bottle at work today), but I still have some weakness ... general all over body weakness, as well as weakness in my hands.

The good news is that once you have 5th Disease, you can't get it again. Whew!

Anyway, here are a few things Biscuit has been saying lately:

A magical world: Biscuit and I were walking through a store this evening, looking for one very specific thing. I finally found a sales associate to ask, and of course, the store didn't have what I wanted.

I figured I'd take Biscuit on a cruise through the toy department, but I didn't say that out loud. 

Biscuit was just chattering away (he was in a talkative mood this evening), as I guided us down the main aisle then straight down the aisle with the cars and trucks.

Still chattering away, Biscuit stopped dead in his tracks. His mouth dropped open as his head started swiveling.

"Mom, what IS this place?" Biscuit asked. "Where ARE we, Mom?"

"We're in the toy department," I said.

It was the funniest thing. It was like he had never seen toys before.

Relationships: Jeff had to work late this evening, so Biscuit and I went out for dinner. We were having a great time rolling crayons back and forth across the table, when an older couple walked in and sat down at a table diagonal from ours. They both sat on the same side of their table. Biscuit was facing them, but they were behind my back.

That didn't matter, though, because Biscuit described the couple to me as they waited for their food.

"Mom, there's a Mom and Dad sitting at that table," Biscuit said. "Are they married?"

"I don't know if they're married," I said to Biscuit.

"Are you and me married, Mom?" Biscuit asked.

"No," I said. "But Dad and I are married."

"But why can't I be married, too, Mom?" Biscuit asked, looking pretty sad.

"Being married is for grownups," I said.

"If I pretend to be a grownup, can you and me be married then?" Biscuit asked.

"Sure," I said. Then Biscuit was all smiles again.

"Mom, that Mom has red fingernails," Biscuit said. "Red is our favorite color, right?"

"Right," I said.

"And she's wearing a wrist watch," Biscuit said.

"Eat your dinner and quit staring at people," I said.

"I'm just looking at her, Mom," Biscuit said.

"That's what staring is," I explained. "And some people don't like it when you look at them for a long time."

"Oh," said Biscuit and went back to eating his dinner.

Less than 5 minutes later ... "Mom, that Dad is wearing a neck-a-lace," Biscuit said.

When Biscuit was finally done with dinner, we stood up to leave. And I couldn't help but turn to look at the couple Biscuit had been describing to me.

"He's so cute," the woman said.

"I'm sorry, but I had to turn around to look at y'all," I said. "My son has discovered people-watching, and he has told me all about y'all." I looked at the woman and said, "He told me that you have red fingernails. Red is our favorite color."

The woman laughed. "He's just observant, isn't he?" she said.

 

I laughed and said, "He is fascinated with relationships right now, and he kept asking me if y'all are a Mom and Dad and if you're married." The woman laughed, and I grabbed Biscuit's hand to leave. I sorta wanted to walk away before they felt like they needed to address the "mom and dad" or "married" questions.

Just as we turned to leave, the man said to Biscuit, "By the way, we are a Mom and Dad, and we are married. We've been married for 48 years."

I'm not sure how Biscuit sensed that what the man said was a big deal, but he looked at the man and said, "Wow."

Who's your Daddy? Jeff called on his way home from work this evening, and Biscuit walked into the room as we were talking.

"Excuse me, Mom. Who are you talking to?" he asked.

"I'm talking to Dad," I said. "Would you like to talk to him?"

"Is it OUR Dad?" Biscuit asked, making sure it was actually Jeff.

"Yes, baby," I said. "It's OUR Dad."

Memory upgrade

Biscuit's memory is getting longer. He's remembering more song lyrics and rhymes and things he's heard in movies and on TV shows. He's also remembering things we did for a long time after we did them.

We went to my parents' house in April for my nephew's birthday weekend. We went to Mama's church for Easter, and at the end of the road my parents live on, a childhood friend of mine has a bunch of horses in a pasture. Biscuit, as we all know, is crazy about horses, so when he saw how many there were, he went a little crazy.

In June, we went back to my parents' house for my niece's birthday. That Sunday morning, my parents decided to take Biscuit to church with them. As they were pulling out of the driveway, Biscuit asked, "Grandmama, will we see those lots of horses on the way to your church?" 

Two whole months later, and he remembered that he would see horses on the way to Mama's church.

When Biscuit and I are in the car together, he likes for us to talk and tell stories. But when he rides in Jeff's car, he wants music. So Jeff obliges.

Unfortunately, Jeff sometimes doesn't think about the lyrics of the songs they listen to.

Biscuit rode home with Jeff yesterday afternoon. Jeff brought him in the house, then turned to leave to go to a soccer game. I still wasn't feeling great, but Biscuit didn't really understand.


"Mom, do you want to play firefighters with me?" Biscuit asked.

"Not right now, baby," I said. "I'm still not feeling too good."

"Mom, clean your act up and don't be a slob," Biscuit said.

"Excuse me?!?" I asked with scrunched-up eyebrows.

"I'm singing 'The Haircut Song' to you, Mom," Biscuit said. "Get a haircut and get a real job. Clean your act up, and don't be a slob." 

He picked up that little tidbit from a song he heard on one of Jeff's CDs. Biscuit had no idea that it sounded like he was sassing me, but I told Jeff he needed to be more careful.

Biscuit's memory isn't yet so long that his father can't twist the truth and he doesn't know the difference, though. Jeff finished off a box of mini chocolate chip cookies just as Biscuit walked into the living room.

"Awww, Dad," he whined. "Are all the cookies gone? Did you eat all the cookies?"

"Yeah," Jeff said. "But you had some, too, didn't you? Weren't they good?"

"OH, YEAH!" Biscuit shouted. "I ate them, too. We shared, Dad. We ate up all the cookies!"

Biscuit didn't have a single one of those cookies!

So I guess the lesson is that his memory is getting better, but his sense of who's feeding him a line of bull isn't quite there yet.

We have to be very careful these days about what we say to our boy because I have a feeling that most of it will come back to us. 

Is it too early to make him remember his multiplication tables?!?

Still fumbling

I still have sausage fingers, so no stories this evening.

Although, I will share a funny new T-shirt Jeff has.

Jeff was off today because he worked Saturday night. I was off today because we get a day off for our birthdays.

We saw a movie. We had lunch. We did a little shopping. Then we picked up Biscuit and headed to the ballpark. The newspaper had free tickets for those who wanted them, and since we love to go, we took them up on it. 

Our evening out ended early because we didn't want to wait out a storm that caused a game delay, but we had a good day.

Anyway, Jeff got a lot of comments on his T-shirt. And for those who don't get it, it's a reference to an 80s rap song that goes "check yourself before you wreck yourself."

Nice dinner

We capped off my birthday week with a nice dinner with friends.

It was a win-win situation, as Biscuit got his beloved honey chicken, and I got an evening out with friends ... oh yeah, and presents!

My hands are still aching from the 5th Disease symptoms. It has finally started to move out of my knees. They're still a little sore, but much better. My fingers, wrists, elbows and shoulders are the targets now.

I've decided that this illness showed up because I was in need of some patience (to move more slowly) and humility (to have to ask for help). 

Most people who know me know that I'm so not good at asking for help, but when you can't do things as simple as opening a drink bottle or tearing the ribbon off your own birthday present, you have to ask for help. And the ironic part of that is that I'm surrounded by people who are willing to help.

Biscuit has been funny because he knows something is wrong with me, but he doesn't quite get it. So he hurts me not meaning to, but he gives great hugs, so I'll suffer through it!

Everybody pray that this thing will run its course quickly, and I'll be back to myself soon.

5th Disease is my 1st enemy

Biscuit and his cohorts at day care were nice enough the share a 5th Disease epidemic with me this week.

Apparently, one of the infants got it, and his parents brought him to day care anyway.

5th Disease is actually a real thing. In the little kids realm of illness, it's chicken pox, measles, mumps, 4th Disease and 5th disease.

For little kids, the symptoms are a low-grade fever, headache, stomach ache and a rash. For adults, the symptoms are headache, nausea and pain and swelling in the joints.

The ones that have really hit me at the nausea and pain and swelling in the joints.

That's why I'm going to keep this post short. My fingers are swollen to look like sausages!

I dread the possibility of getting arthritis because let me tell you, this sucks. It has been very, very painful. And because it's a virus, there's nothing doctors can do for you. They can only treat symptoms.

Biscuit had it as well, but luckily, his was a very minor case. He had the rash, and that's pretty much all.

I will say that if one of us had to get it, I would take this pain over allowing Biscuit to hurt any day of the week!

I'm off to take more ibuprofen now. Wish me well.

PJ Day

Today is my birthday. I knew Mama was coming into town today, so last night, I wanted to get the house picked up. 

So of course that meant that we needed to eat dinner out, so I wouldn't have to cook and make even more of a mess. For anyone keeping score, that's just good logic.

So we headed over to the pancake rest-au-rant.

After we ate, Jeff said he and Biscuit needed to run an errand. And I correctly assumed that Jeff was taking Biscuit to pick out a present for me.

"Do you realize how he's dressed?" I asked. Remember his Wacky Tacky Day outfit?

"Well, if anyone asks, I'll just tell them that we dress him that way to make him tough," Jeff said. "Oh, and I'll say, 'His name is Sue. How do you do.'"

So the boys went one way to do their errand, and I went the other way to head home.

When Jeff and Biscuit got home, I figured I'd make a fuss about how long they'd been gone. Plus, I figured Jeff had prepped Biscuit with a good story.

I propped my hands on my hips, cocked my head to the side and said, "Where have you two been?"

Biscuit's eyes got big, he held his arms out to the side and he said, "We just went to that store to get your neck-a-lace, Mom. That's all. We just went to get your neck-a-lace."

Jeff, who was standing behind Biscuit, just rolled his eyes. "It was supposed to be a surprise, boy."

"Oh, yeah. Mom. It's a surprise," Biscuit said. "Dad, I didn't tell her about the card."

"You weren't supposed to tell Mom," Jeff said. 

"But I held the bag really tight, and the neck-a-lace didn't fall out, Dad," Biscuit said. 

So this morning, while I was eating my cereal, I got a pretty red necklace.

And Biscuit was excited because today was Pajama Day. He got to wear his jammies all day long.

Here he is in his firefighter jammies (the yellow part of the shirt glows in the dark).

 

Wacky Tacky Day

Today was Wacky Tacky Day at day care, and we fixed Biscuit up good.

He wore an orange shirt with red shorts, and he had mismatched shoes and socks.

"Mom," Biscuit said with that wide-eyed look of his. "My shoes don't even match!"

"I know," I said. "That's kinda the point. It's Wacky Tacky Day. Your clothes and shoes aren't supposed to match."

And once again, he was one of only a few kids who participated.

Either way, he was pleased with his look and had no problem heading over the pancake rest-au-rant for dinner dressed exactly as he was.

Backwards Day

Today's theme at day care was Backwards Day.

Before I get to Biscuit, can I just complain for a minute about how lame some other parents are?

When we got to day care this morning, they had the 2-year-olds and 3-year-olds in the same classroom for story time. So altogether, there were probably 15 kids. Guess how many of them were dressed backwards? Six. Counting Biscuit!

So out of all those kids, and all the notice the teachers had given the parents, and all the posters hanging around the day care, these parents couldn't just put the kids' shirts and pants on the other way? It wouldn't have taken any more time than dressing them frontwards.

Lame. Lame. Lame.

As for Biscuit, he was pretty excited.

I explained the concept of Backwards Day, and Biscuit gave me that cute incredulous look where his eyebrows go up dang-near his hairline.

"BACKWARDS?!?" Biscuit asked. "How does that work, Mom?"

So I explained that when we would put his clothes on, we'd just turn them around the other way.

"WHAT?!?" Biscuit asked. I wish I could re-create the sound his voice makes when he excited or asking a question he can't believe the answer to. It goes up so high, I think some of the dogs in our neighborhood can hear him.

We got him dressed, and Jeff lifted him onto the bathroom counter to brush his teeth. Biscuit was wearing denim cargo shorts and a red T-shirt with pirate dogs on it. He glanced over his shoulder and started giggling.

"Hold still so I can't brush your teeth," Jeff said.

"But Dad," Biscuit said. "I have pirate dogs on my back. They're supposed to be on my front, but they're on my back." 

Here's Biscuit with his pirate dogs on his back:

Hat Day

Today was Hat Day at Biscuit's day care.

They're having something akin to Spirit Week with a fun theme each day.

Today was Hat Day, and Biscuit was quite excited. He often wears a hat in the car on the way to day care, but he has to leave it in the car when we get there.

When I told him he could wear it all day if he wanted to, his eyes got really big, then he got a huge smile on his face.

"I can wear my hat ALL DAY?!?" Biscuit asked.

"Yep," I said. "Just for today, you can wear it all day.

Bet you can't guess which hat he chose to wear!

Also, check out Biscuit's shirt.

Remember the "Where's Waldo?" books? The books featured lots of busy, busy illustrations, and the point was to find Waldo in the pictures. Well, Jeff and I saw this shirt, and we had to get it for Biscuit.

That's Waldo standing on the left side, and the words say, " Dude, I'm right here."

Biscuit doesn't get the joke, but Jeff and I do. And we think it's funny!

Out of the mouth of my babe

Here are a few things Biscuit has said recently:

You talkin' to me?: Lately, Biscuit has been telling us things he's heard from his friends at day care. Sometimes they make sense, and sometimes they don't. 

I think having some context would help, but it's not like the kids say to each other, "When my Mama said this to me, I had just finished jumping up and down on her last nerve." 

When Biscuit told us what one of his friends said recently, I could just imagine it coming from the mouth of an exasperated mother.

"Hey, Mom," Biscuit said. "Listen to this: You want some of this, young man? You want some of this?"

 

Sporting equipment: Biscuit came walking into the living room the other night with my bra on his head. He had one of the cups perched perfectly on top of his head with the strap looped around his chin.

"Check out my football helmet, Mom."

 

Yankee Doodle Dandy: Biscuit handed me a small flag this evening and said, "Mom, will you hold this flag and sing 'The Heart Song'?"

"What's the heart song?" I asked him.

"You know, Mom," Biscuit said. "It's the song at the ballgame where you have to put your hand over your heart."

He was talking about "The Star-Spangled Banner."

Oh, lollipop!

It's funny to me how Biscuit's tastes change. 

It was only a few months ago that we gave him a lollipop, and he took one lick of it, handed it back and said he was done.

How things have changed.

Jeff took Biscuit to get his hair cut, and when it was time to leave the shop, the hair dresser gave him a lollipop. Biscuit asked Jeff if he could eat it, and even though it was close to dinner time, Jeff told him to go ahead.

When Jeff and Biscuit got home, I made a fuss, asking him what he had in his mouth.

"It's a lollipop, Mom," Biscuit said. "Some people call them suckers, but I say 'lollipop.'"

I gave Jeff a look that said, "I can't believe you let him have that sucker before dinner, but mostly, I just thought it was funny to see Biscuit walking around with the stick hanging out of his mouth.

It did make me a bit nervous for him to be walking around with that stick in his mouth. I worked at two hospitals and saw a lot of things come into the emergency room. I also heard my entire life from my Mama, Granny and other family members about how you shouldn't walk around with anything in your mouth. 

But he just sat in the living room floor and played until it was almost gone.

His cowboy hat is a real one. It came from a Western store in the mountains.

I bet we've got a $1,000 worth of toys in our house, and our child's favorite thing to play with right now is a construction paper kite with a yarn string that he made at day care in March. He calls it either his "fire rope" or his lasso.

Riding to freedom

A post from The Daddy Man: 

Kimmy had to work late the other night, so she told me to take Biscuit out on a dad/son date. I asked Biscuit where he wanted to go, and no surprise, he wanted the pancake rest-au-rant. He still says it in three very distinct syllables. 

We're pretty strict about him holding our hands in parking lots, so as soon as we got out of the car, I grabbed his hand. 

As soon as we got to the sidewalk, Biscuit said, "Dad, can I go now?" 

"What do you mean?" I asked. 

"Can I gallop like a horse on the sidewalk?" Biscuit asked. 

"Yeah, you can go ahead," I told him. 

"Dad, tell me to take the point," Biscuit said. In a John Wayne movie we watch together ("She Wore a Yellow Ribbon"), John Wayne's character tells Ben Johnson's character to take the point, meaning that he rides out front and scouts ahead. 

"Okay, Boy, you take the point," I said. 

Biscuit took off in a gallop yelling, "Yeehah! Yeehah! Yeehah!"