My Daddy's sister died Monday. She had been sick for a while and just couldn't hold on any longer. She was a very nice lady, and she will be missed.
My parents called to say they were leaving early Tuesday morning to drive 5 1/2 hours to where the visitation and funeral would be. I asked Daddy if he wanted me there, and he said no.
"You don't need to drive all the way down here," Daddy said. "You've got work and Jeff and Griffin. There's nothing you can do down here anyway."
He was basically right, but at the same time, I just had this nagging feeling that I needed to be there. I called my brother, and he was having the same thoughts.
"What do you want to do?" he asked me.
"I don't know," I said. "What do you want to do?"
"I don't know," he said.
I told him that it was a long way to go in one day and come back the next. And, I said, Daddy said not to come. Jeff's busy with work, and I'd have to leave Biscuit with him. I knew my brother had work to do, and he has three kids in school, and his wife works part time. There were just all these reasons not to go.
But ultimately, I realized that all that stuff was secondary to the fact that we wanted to be there for our Daddy. I knew that if we didn't go, two weeks from now, we'd regret it.
I left Tuesday morning and drove 2 1/2 hours to pick up my brother. Then from his house, it was another 5 1/2 hours to the funeral home. I did all the driving, and my brother worked all the way there. He must've sent 50 text messages and 50 emails and took 50 phone calls. And I made fun of him because he has a "work phone voice" that doesn't sound like his regular voice.
Our great aunt's house was about 10 minutes from the funeral home, so we stopped there to change clothes. We had built in a little bit of time, so we had about 45 minutes to sit and visit with her.
We got to the funeral home and didn't know much of anybody. But as we walked around the corner to our family's room, we saw Mama and Daddy.
My Daddy isn't a crier, but when he saw us, he teared up. It didn't take but a second to regain his composure, though.
He walked over to us and said, "I told y'all not to come here."
"We haven't listened to you so far," I said. "Why should we start now?" That got a smile out of him.
After the funeral home, Mama, Daddy, my brother and I went to a 24-hour restaurant to get some dinner. It was about 9 p.m. by the time we got our food, and as we started eating, Mama asked, "So where are y'all staying tonight?"
My brother and I looked at each other, both shrugged and said, "Dunno."
So I took out my cellphone and called my uncle (Mama's brother), where Mama and Daddy were staying.
He answered the phone, and I said, "If one were to find oneself in your town with no place to stay for the night, what would one do?"
"One would bring oneself to my house," he said.
"And what if one had one's brother with one?" I asked.
"One would grab one's brother and come on over," he said.
The next morning, we saw a few more people on Mama's side of the family, then we headed to the funeral, which was a graveside service. There was a nice turnout, and the minister said some really nice things about my aunt.
But something funny happened before the service started.
An older man who was unsteady on his feet was walking toward the tent. He wasn't family, but he needed a chair, so the funeral director was leading him to where he could sit down. As the man passed by, I glanced up and saw this big black bug on the back of his shirt.
Before I could say anything, one of the gravediggers stepped out from under the side tent, walked nonchalantly past the man, scooped the bug off his back, walked out past the rest of the people, threw the bug down and walked right back to his spot under the side tent.
I thought that was a very cool thing for him to do. He and the other gravedigger just smiled and nodded at each other.
After the service was over, this man walked up to my brother.
"Hey, old man," he said. "How are you?"
"I'm good," my brother said. "How 'bout you?"
"I'm good, good," he said. "You still in the business?"
"Yeah," my brother said. "Still gettin' it done. How 'bout you?"
"Yeah," the man said. "I'm still in it, too. Hey, every time I think about you, I remember that night we ate that whole box of those little hamburgers. Remember that?"
"The good memories are the best ones to hold on to," my brother said.
"Man, it was good to see you," he said.
"Good to see you, too," my brother said.
The guy walked away, and I asked my brother, "Who was that?"
My brother said, "I got no idea, but I didn't feel like this was the place to tell the man he didn't know what he was talking about. And besides, it sounds like we had a good time that night."
Some people might be surprised about the ease with which my brother worked his way through that conversation, but not me. That boy has been talking crap for years!
Our parents met us at one of my favorite burger joints as my brother and I were on the way out of town. We tried to remember the last time just the four of us sat around a table for a meal. No spouses, no kids, just the original four.
Even though it was a sad occasion that brought us together, I enjoyed the time with my immediate family, as well as the cousins, aunts and uncles we saw. And as my brother and I were leaving, our Daddy said, "I'm glad y'all didn't listen to me. I'm glad you came."
That was worth the 14 hours of driving and then some.
Friday, September 21, 2012
Thursday, September 20, 2012
A quick trip
My brother and I had to make a quick trip Tuesday and Wednesday to attend our aunt's funeral. I'll share more about that later, but we passed through the town where I was born (and the town Biscuit is named after), and I got my brother to take a few pictures with his phone.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Most gifts are nice
There's nothing like leaving your precious one and only child with friends for the evening, thinking he's in good hands.
Then you come home to discover that your kind friends have bestowed upon him a gift.
Gifts are nice ... most of the time.
Other times, gifts can be obnoxiously loud toys to play with. Like THIS ONE!!!
A rescue helicopter with a spinning propeller and buttons on the side that make awful noises, like the helicopter cranking up, the whap-whap-whap of the blades spinning, and of COURSE there's a siren. How could a rescue helicopter NOT have a siren!
It's a good thing these friends are such good babysitters, or I might have to trade them in on babysitters who give quiet, educational toys!
Then you come home to discover that your kind friends have bestowed upon him a gift.
Gifts are nice ... most of the time.
Other times, gifts can be obnoxiously loud toys to play with. Like THIS ONE!!!
A rescue helicopter with a spinning propeller and buttons on the side that make awful noises, like the helicopter cranking up, the whap-whap-whap of the blades spinning, and of COURSE there's a siren. How could a rescue helicopter NOT have a siren!
It's a good thing these friends are such good babysitters, or I might have to trade them in on babysitters who give quiet, educational toys!
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Apple festival
Biscuit is at a fun age right (well, he's fun most of the time, anyway). He's old enough to go and do a lot of things, including fairs and festivals. So I've been keeping an eye out for fun things for us to do.
Yesterday, we drove one town over and went to an annual apple festival.
The event was at a park that used to be a fort. It was settled by Moravians (German-speaking Protestants) in 1753. Each family was told to plant six apple trees per family member. Pretty soon, the whole area around what is now the park was covered in apple trees. So since the apples were so important to their way of life, the Moravians still celebrate with an annual apple festival.
Several of the old buildings are still standing in the park, and you can see demonstrations of old-time skills and crafts, such as blacksmithing and candlemaking.
Anyway, we got to the park right at lunch time, so we headed straight for the food area. Jeff wanted BBQ, and I decided I'd share a hamburger and fries with Biscuit. I wasn't sure what I wanted until I saw a food truck with "grass-fed beef burgers" printed on the side. "Yep. I'll take one of those," I told Jeff.
The burger truck was in the sun, so Jeff told me to get his BBQ and he'd stand in line for my hamburger and fries. I got Jeff's BBQ, then Biscuit and I found a shady spot and sat down on the grass.
And then we waited. And we waited. And we waited. Counting the time he stood in line and the time he waited for the food to be cooked, poor Jeff had to wait for 40 minutes for mine and Biscuit's food.
After lunch, we started walking around the different demonstrations and booths. We saw a blacksmith, a woman making baskets and a woman in a tent with lots of old-fashioned furnishings and cookware who talked about making candles and cooking on an open fire. She had made apple sauce and even an apple pie in cast iron cookware over a fire.
Even though Biscuit is old enough to spend a day at festivals and car shows and other events, he still doesn't have quite enough patience for the reading it takes to properly visit historical sites. So I only got a cursory glance at the old buildings at the park. I'd like to go back some time and take a better look.
One thing the kids seemed to enjoy was animal races. They started with pigs, then went to goats. It was a little odd, but the animals didn't seem to mind all the attention.
One area was set up with games for kids. And they were the kinds of games the kids would've played when the park was still a village. They had tug-of-war, hoop and stick races, bean bag toss, an early of form of bocce and sack races. They also had a basket of handheld toys like discs on strings that you make spin around and a little wooden cup on a stick that had a ball on a string. You had to try to get the ball into the little cup. It's harder than it looks.
One thing Biscuit does have patience for is music. As we were walking around, he heard live music and just headed straight toward it.
Biscuit walked right to an empty seat and crawled up into it. The funny part was that the empty seat was the last one on a row, right beside an older man with a white beard. Biscuit just grabbed his seat and focused his attention on the stage. Seeing as little man didn't seem to care that there wasn't room for Jeff and me, we grabbed a couple of seats on the row behind him. He'd look back every once in a while to make sure we were still there, but he just enjoyed the music.
There were plenty of chairs set up around the music stage, but it was such a pretty, grassy, shady area, some people just threw out blankets and quilts to sit on.
After the music, Biscuit found some rocks that appeared to be the foundation of a building that's no longer there. Several other kids were walking around the rectangle of rocks, and Biscuit asked if he could, too. All the things to do at the festival, and most of the kids seemed to be enjoying walking on the rocks better than anything else.
If I'm completely honest, the only apples we came in contact with were the ones in the fried pies we ate. But they were so, so good. They were cooking them onsite, and when we paid for them, they handed them to us still warm. Biscuit and I split a pie, and I got exactly half. He matched me bite for bite and talked about how good it was.
I had to laugh at a story Jeff shared with me about food, too. I love kettle corn ... especially the kettle corn they make fresh at festivals and fairs. So when I saw a tent, I asked Jeff if he'd get me some.
The crowd at the festival was pretty varied. But there were quite a few hippy/granola/outdoorsy-type people there. Lots of hiking boots, cargo shorts, braided hair and broomstick skirts.
As Jeff stood in line for my popcorn, a woman walked up beside him and leaned over the table.
"Excuse me, is your kettle corn g-mod?" she asked.
"I'm sorry?" the 20-something salesman asked.
"Is your kettle corn genetically modified?" the woman asked, explaining her slang.
"Um, it's kettle corn," the guy said, smiling at the woman because he really had no idea what else to say. "We have free samples."
But the woman just walked away.
Oh well, that's more g-mod kettle corn for me!
The three of us had a good day together. Biscuit took a nap on the way home, and we hung out and relaxed for the rest of the evening.
Yesterday, we drove one town over and went to an annual apple festival.
The event was at a park that used to be a fort. It was settled by Moravians (German-speaking Protestants) in 1753. Each family was told to plant six apple trees per family member. Pretty soon, the whole area around what is now the park was covered in apple trees. So since the apples were so important to their way of life, the Moravians still celebrate with an annual apple festival.
Several of the old buildings are still standing in the park, and you can see demonstrations of old-time skills and crafts, such as blacksmithing and candlemaking.
Anyway, we got to the park right at lunch time, so we headed straight for the food area. Jeff wanted BBQ, and I decided I'd share a hamburger and fries with Biscuit. I wasn't sure what I wanted until I saw a food truck with "grass-fed beef burgers" printed on the side. "Yep. I'll take one of those," I told Jeff.
The burger truck was in the sun, so Jeff told me to get his BBQ and he'd stand in line for my hamburger and fries. I got Jeff's BBQ, then Biscuit and I found a shady spot and sat down on the grass.
And then we waited. And we waited. And we waited. Counting the time he stood in line and the time he waited for the food to be cooked, poor Jeff had to wait for 40 minutes for mine and Biscuit's food.
 |
| See poor Jeff on the right side in the green shirt? His patience paid off. That burger was really good. |
After lunch, we started walking around the different demonstrations and booths. We saw a blacksmith, a woman making baskets and a woman in a tent with lots of old-fashioned furnishings and cookware who talked about making candles and cooking on an open fire. She had made apple sauce and even an apple pie in cast iron cookware over a fire.
 |
| A blacksmith files down a piece he just hammered out. |
 |
| A woman in old-fashioned dress talks about how life would've been in the mid- to late-1700s. |
Even though Biscuit is old enough to spend a day at festivals and car shows and other events, he still doesn't have quite enough patience for the reading it takes to properly visit historical sites. So I only got a cursory glance at the old buildings at the park. I'd like to go back some time and take a better look.
One thing the kids seemed to enjoy was animal races. They started with pigs, then went to goats. It was a little odd, but the animals didn't seem to mind all the attention.
 |
| These were the rookie pigs. They're just learning how to race. They were really cute little things. |
 |
| Then the pro-level pigs came out. The three on the right were ready to go, but the one on the left got a little distracted. |
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| They named the pigs after current race car drivers. |
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| The goats all ran right over top of each other. They got cheese doodles as their prize for crossing the finish line. |
One area was set up with games for kids. And they were the kinds of games the kids would've played when the park was still a village. They had tug-of-war, hoop and stick races, bean bag toss, an early of form of bocce and sack races. They also had a basket of handheld toys like discs on strings that you make spin around and a little wooden cup on a stick that had a ball on a string. You had to try to get the ball into the little cup. It's harder than it looks.
 |
| This little thing was clearly made for kids. The hole wasn't even big enough for my head to fit in it. |
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| Biscuit was good at the bean bag toss. |
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| Go Biscuit go. It looks like they were racing, but the kids just walked up, grabbed bags and started jumping. Even so, Biscuit said, "I was trying to beat her, Mom, but she was going really fast!" |
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| Go Biscuit, go! |
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| Uh-oh. Somebody got distracted. |
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| Jeff and Biscuit play tug-of-war. |
One thing Biscuit does have patience for is music. As we were walking around, he heard live music and just headed straight toward it.
Biscuit walked right to an empty seat and crawled up into it. The funny part was that the empty seat was the last one on a row, right beside an older man with a white beard. Biscuit just grabbed his seat and focused his attention on the stage. Seeing as little man didn't seem to care that there wasn't room for Jeff and me, we grabbed a couple of seats on the row behind him. He'd look back every once in a while to make sure we were still there, but he just enjoyed the music.
 |
| The couple onstage (with a guitar and a fiddle) played a couple of old-time cowboy-type songs. Biscuit loved it! |
There were plenty of chairs set up around the music stage, but it was such a pretty, grassy, shady area, some people just threw out blankets and quilts to sit on.
 |
| This was one of the prettier quilts I saw. I love the pattern and colors. |
After the music, Biscuit found some rocks that appeared to be the foundation of a building that's no longer there. Several other kids were walking around the rectangle of rocks, and Biscuit asked if he could, too. All the things to do at the festival, and most of the kids seemed to be enjoying walking on the rocks better than anything else.
 |
| Walking on the rocks was rough going. I found myself trying to help Biscuit keep his balance from several yards away. |
 |
| You can see the pointed-top fencing around the edges of where the old building used to be. The building in the background is Gemeinhaus. It was built in 1788. It's the only remaining German 18th century church with attached living quarters. |
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| This picture is from the park's website. It's an eerie shot, but you can imagine what it would've been like way back then. |
I had to laugh at a story Jeff shared with me about food, too. I love kettle corn ... especially the kettle corn they make fresh at festivals and fairs. So when I saw a tent, I asked Jeff if he'd get me some.
The crowd at the festival was pretty varied. But there were quite a few hippy/granola/outdoorsy-type people there. Lots of hiking boots, cargo shorts, braided hair and broomstick skirts.
As Jeff stood in line for my popcorn, a woman walked up beside him and leaned over the table.
"Excuse me, is your kettle corn g-mod?" she asked.
"I'm sorry?" the 20-something salesman asked.
"Is your kettle corn genetically modified?" the woman asked, explaining her slang.
"Um, it's kettle corn," the guy said, smiling at the woman because he really had no idea what else to say. "We have free samples."
But the woman just walked away.
Oh well, that's more g-mod kettle corn for me!
The three of us had a good day together. Biscuit took a nap on the way home, and we hung out and relaxed for the rest of the evening.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Mr. Sunshine
Before Biscuit was born, I made a sign for the wall of his room that said, "Good morning, Sunshine." I also sing "You Are My Sunshine" to him. So sometimes, he'll snuggle up with me and ask, "Mom, am I still your sunshine?"
"Yes," I'll say to him. "You'll ALWAYS be my sunshine."
I took this picture today at a festival one town over from us (more to come on that tomorrow). Biscuit was sitting on Jeff's shoulders. Maybe it was the blue sky and clouds in the background, but the picture made me think about my Sunshine.
"Yes," I'll say to him. "You'll ALWAYS be my sunshine."
I took this picture today at a festival one town over from us (more to come on that tomorrow). Biscuit was sitting on Jeff's shoulders. Maybe it was the blue sky and clouds in the background, but the picture made me think about my Sunshine.
Friday, September 14, 2012
Sharp-dressed man
Today, Biscuit sported a T-shirt that featured the name of Jeff's favorite band.The lead guitarist of the band often wears a tie like the one on the shirt.
Biscuit and I had to go buy new jeans for him (still having to buy skinny jeans because the regular cut, boot cut and carpenters slide up and down him without touching his waist or hips!). Lots of people commented on his tie, but the name of the band was so subtle, I don't think anyone noticed it.
But it makes Jeff happy, and that makes Biscuit happy. And if they're happy, so am I.
Biscuit and I had to go buy new jeans for him (still having to buy skinny jeans because the regular cut, boot cut and carpenters slide up and down him without touching his waist or hips!). Lots of people commented on his tie, but the name of the band was so subtle, I don't think anyone noticed it.
But it makes Jeff happy, and that makes Biscuit happy. And if they're happy, so am I.
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| I'm not sure what's up with that sly little look and grin! |
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Out of the mouth of my babe
A few things Biscuit has been saying lately:
Thanks, Mom: Biscuit and I had dinner with a friend of mine tonight. We were supposed to meet her at 6:30, but we had some time to spare. So we went to the dollar store, and I told Biscuit he could pick out two things. He grabbed a race car and a dragon ... both red, of course.
Biscuit's birthday is in November, and I'm not sure how he knows it, but he's already told me what kind of party he wants. So I've been on the lookout for party supplies. I found a couple of things at the dollar store and took them to the checkout counter.
"Right now, I'm 3 1/2. But when it's my birthday, I'll be 4," Biscuit said. "This stuff is for my party."
"Wow," said the cashier. "That's really cool."
"Yeah," Biscuit said. "My mom is buying this stuff for me. I can have the car and dragon right now, but the other stuff is for later when I have my 4-year-old party."
Biscuit paused for a minute, looked at me and said, "Thanks, Mom, for letting me turn 4. That's nice of you to let me turn 4."
The ladies behind the counter found that quite funny, and I have to say, I did, too.
Almost right: Most of the kids at Biscuit's day care get picked up between 5 and 5:30 p.m. And as the classes get smaller and smaller, the teachers move the leftover kids to the afterschool room and let them watch part of a movie.
The other day, Biscuit came home telling Jeff and me about this movie where the onions were so funny, and they talked funny. The big man always told the onions what to do. And they did it.
Jeff and I wracked our brains trying to figure out what movie would have onions that were able to talk and laugh and do things.
"Do you think he means 'minions'?" Jeff asked.
"MINIONS!" I said. "Of course."
"No, guy," Biscuit said. "Not MINIONS. They're ONIONS!"
Just checking: When I bathe Biscuit, I use the head-to-toe body wash. But Jeff uses a little kid bar of soap and shampoo.
As Jeff was giving Biscuit a bath the other night, he squirted some shampoo into his hand.
"Dad, what is that stuff?" Biscuit asked.
"This is shampoo," Jeff said.
"But not the kind of poo you put in the toilet," Biscuit said.
"Nope," Jeff said. "This is SHAM-poo, not toilet poo."
The whole conversation was funny enough, but then I realized that Jeff never cracked a smile,and he never stopped sudsing up Biscuit's hair. We're so used to these types of comments and questions that they don't even faze us.
Of course, that doesn't mean that I'm going to stop writing them down!
Thanks, Mom: Biscuit and I had dinner with a friend of mine tonight. We were supposed to meet her at 6:30, but we had some time to spare. So we went to the dollar store, and I told Biscuit he could pick out two things. He grabbed a race car and a dragon ... both red, of course.
Biscuit's birthday is in November, and I'm not sure how he knows it, but he's already told me what kind of party he wants. So I've been on the lookout for party supplies. I found a couple of things at the dollar store and took them to the checkout counter.
"Right now, I'm 3 1/2. But when it's my birthday, I'll be 4," Biscuit said. "This stuff is for my party."
"Wow," said the cashier. "That's really cool."
"Yeah," Biscuit said. "My mom is buying this stuff for me. I can have the car and dragon right now, but the other stuff is for later when I have my 4-year-old party."
Biscuit paused for a minute, looked at me and said, "Thanks, Mom, for letting me turn 4. That's nice of you to let me turn 4."
The ladies behind the counter found that quite funny, and I have to say, I did, too.
Almost right: Most of the kids at Biscuit's day care get picked up between 5 and 5:30 p.m. And as the classes get smaller and smaller, the teachers move the leftover kids to the afterschool room and let them watch part of a movie.
The other day, Biscuit came home telling Jeff and me about this movie where the onions were so funny, and they talked funny. The big man always told the onions what to do. And they did it.
Jeff and I wracked our brains trying to figure out what movie would have onions that were able to talk and laugh and do things.
"Do you think he means 'minions'?" Jeff asked.
"MINIONS!" I said. "Of course."
"No, guy," Biscuit said. "Not MINIONS. They're ONIONS!"
Just checking: When I bathe Biscuit, I use the head-to-toe body wash. But Jeff uses a little kid bar of soap and shampoo.
As Jeff was giving Biscuit a bath the other night, he squirted some shampoo into his hand.
"Dad, what is that stuff?" Biscuit asked.
"This is shampoo," Jeff said.
"But not the kind of poo you put in the toilet," Biscuit said.
"Nope," Jeff said. "This is SHAM-poo, not toilet poo."
The whole conversation was funny enough, but then I realized that Jeff never cracked a smile,and he never stopped sudsing up Biscuit's hair. We're so used to these types of comments and questions that they don't even faze us.
Of course, that doesn't mean that I'm going to stop writing them down!
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
What happened today?
"What did you do at day care today?" Normally when I ask that question, I get a stock answer that I supplied to Biscuit a long time ago.
Not long after he started talking, I asked him that question. He looked at me, sort of confused, and said, "Don't know." So I said, "Did you play with your friends?" And he said, "I pway wif fwiends."
And that's the answer I've gotten ever since then. Until today.
Today, Biscuit and I were on the way home from day care, and I asked, "What did you do at day care today?"
"MOM!" Biscuit yelled. "Home living was a mess. It was all mixed up. Somebody put the dishes in the same place as the food, and the dishes and the food don't go together."
"Oh, wow," I said. "How did that happen?"
"Joe, John and Jack (not their real names) put them that way," he said, clearly astonished that any one human could be so irresponsible. "And then Miss Nicole had to help them put everything back. Home living was just all mixed up."
"Were you in home living when it happened?" I asked.
"No," he said. "Jimmy and me, we were in blocks, but then Joe, John and Jack had to go sit on the rug because they were not listening, and Jimmy and me, we went to home living."
In Biscuit's classroom, they have "play centers" -- the blocks center, the science center (with plastic dinosaurs, insects and other animals), the art center (with pencils, crayons, paper, etc.), the transportation center (with cars, trucks, trains, etc.), the books center, the sand table (which looks like a big dishpan on a stand with sand and sand toys), the water center (another big dishpan on a stand, but this one has water, measuring cups, funnels, etc.) and home living (which has dress-up clothes, plastic dishes, fake food, a play kitchen and other household things).
Biscuit loves home living the best because that's where you'll find the firefighter helmet and jacket. So when I asked what he did when he got to the home living center, I wasn't surprised at all by his answer.
"Jimmy and me, we went to home living, and I dressed up like a firefighter. And Jimmy dressed up like a jack-in-the-box, and Jimmy was a mean jack-in-the-box, and he had a sword, so I got a sword, and I chinged him, and he chinged me back, and then he went down, and he didn't get back up. But he wasn't hurt. We were just pretending. And then Jimmy, he jumped out of his box, and he scared everybody."
"He scared everybody?" I asked.
"Yep," Biscuit said. "But I chinged him with my sword, and he won't scare anybody anymore."
Even though I didn't quite follow his story, it was a way better answer than "I played with me friends."
Not long after he started talking, I asked him that question. He looked at me, sort of confused, and said, "Don't know." So I said, "Did you play with your friends?" And he said, "I pway wif fwiends."
And that's the answer I've gotten ever since then. Until today.
Today, Biscuit and I were on the way home from day care, and I asked, "What did you do at day care today?"
"MOM!" Biscuit yelled. "Home living was a mess. It was all mixed up. Somebody put the dishes in the same place as the food, and the dishes and the food don't go together."
"Oh, wow," I said. "How did that happen?"
"Joe, John and Jack (not their real names) put them that way," he said, clearly astonished that any one human could be so irresponsible. "And then Miss Nicole had to help them put everything back. Home living was just all mixed up."
"Were you in home living when it happened?" I asked.
"No," he said. "Jimmy and me, we were in blocks, but then Joe, John and Jack had to go sit on the rug because they were not listening, and Jimmy and me, we went to home living."
In Biscuit's classroom, they have "play centers" -- the blocks center, the science center (with plastic dinosaurs, insects and other animals), the art center (with pencils, crayons, paper, etc.), the transportation center (with cars, trucks, trains, etc.), the books center, the sand table (which looks like a big dishpan on a stand with sand and sand toys), the water center (another big dishpan on a stand, but this one has water, measuring cups, funnels, etc.) and home living (which has dress-up clothes, plastic dishes, fake food, a play kitchen and other household things).
Biscuit loves home living the best because that's where you'll find the firefighter helmet and jacket. So when I asked what he did when he got to the home living center, I wasn't surprised at all by his answer.
"Jimmy and me, we went to home living, and I dressed up like a firefighter. And Jimmy dressed up like a jack-in-the-box, and Jimmy was a mean jack-in-the-box, and he had a sword, so I got a sword, and I chinged him, and he chinged me back, and then he went down, and he didn't get back up. But he wasn't hurt. We were just pretending. And then Jimmy, he jumped out of his box, and he scared everybody."
"He scared everybody?" I asked.
"Yep," Biscuit said. "But I chinged him with my sword, and he won't scare anybody anymore."
Even though I didn't quite follow his story, it was a way better answer than "I played with me friends."
Monday, September 10, 2012
Multiple choice
Biscuit has favorites among his toys. So when he brings two toys to you and says, "Which one do you want, Mom?" I always go for the one that I know is Biscuit's favorite.
That might sound like a mean thing to do, but actually, I've used those situations to teach him to rephrase his question.
The other day, he brought a reddish-brown horse and a gray horse over to me. "Mom, which horse do you want to play with?" Biscuit asked.
"Um ..." I said, looking back and forth between them. "I think I'll take the red one."
Biscuit got a concerned look on his face and said, "But Mom, I wanted the red one."
"You asked me which horse I wanted, and I want the red one," I said.
"Oh," Biscuit said as he looked at the floor. His voice got deeper and he said, "Okay, Mom."
"Well, you know," I said. "You can ask the question in a different way. You can say, 'Mom, I want to play with the red horse. Do you want the gray one?' or you could say, 'Mom, I'm going to play with the red horse, would you like to pick one of the others?'"
"Oh yeah, Mom," Biscuit said. "You told me that one time before." I've actually told him more than one time before.
"So do you have a question for me?" I asked.
"Yep," Biscuit said. "Mom, may you like to play with this gray horse? I'm going to play with the red one."
"Yes, I may," I said. I know the grammar isn't right, but it sounded so funny, I had to go with it.
That might sound like a mean thing to do, but actually, I've used those situations to teach him to rephrase his question.
The other day, he brought a reddish-brown horse and a gray horse over to me. "Mom, which horse do you want to play with?" Biscuit asked.
"Um ..." I said, looking back and forth between them. "I think I'll take the red one."
Biscuit got a concerned look on his face and said, "But Mom, I wanted the red one."
"You asked me which horse I wanted, and I want the red one," I said.
"Oh," Biscuit said as he looked at the floor. His voice got deeper and he said, "Okay, Mom."
"Well, you know," I said. "You can ask the question in a different way. You can say, 'Mom, I want to play with the red horse. Do you want the gray one?' or you could say, 'Mom, I'm going to play with the red horse, would you like to pick one of the others?'"
"Oh yeah, Mom," Biscuit said. "You told me that one time before." I've actually told him more than one time before.
"So do you have a question for me?" I asked.
"Yep," Biscuit said. "Mom, may you like to play with this gray horse? I'm going to play with the red one."
"Yes, I may," I said. I know the grammar isn't right, but it sounded so funny, I had to go with it.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
A full day
I sort of dreaded getting started yesterday because I knew there was so much on our list of things to do. Unlike usual, the list was all stuff outside our house (not that I don't have a list of things to do INSIDE the house, too).
Jeff, Biscuit and I left our house at about 11:30 a.m. yesterday and headed to one of the local home improvement stores. Two hours later (yes TWO hours later), we were leaving ... with air filters, paint chips, a toilet flapper, 7-watt low-voltage light bulbs and about a thousand ideas of things we can do with our house.
Our shopping worked up our appetites, so we stopped for pizza. It was such a weird time to eat lunch that we were the only people in the whole restaurant. I didn't mind, though, because our food was fresh and our server was attentive.
Next we headed the other home improvement store. We got a new birdfeeder, more paint chips, a light switch cover, a plug-in cover and even more ideas of stuff to do with our house.
Those places are truly dangerous!
Biscuit still loves naps. And when he gets tired, he goes to sleep. I guess that sounds like a simple thing, but I know moms who could duct tape their kids into their beds, and those kids would still find a way not to take a nap. We have never had that problem with Biscuit.
Some people ask if it's a hindrance to our schedule on the weekends. The timing can be frustrating, but frankly, we don't ever let it hold us back from doing anything.
The reason is, my boy will sleep anywhere. See?
We hadn't planned to be in the second store as long as we were, but Biscuit went to sleep, then we heard thunder and rain. So we decided to wander around and idea shop some more. An hour and a half later (really, no sane person should spend this long in these stores!), we were heading out of there.
Jeff asked if it was okay to ruin Biscuit's dinner, and I asked him what he had in mind. We went to a yogurt shop and got a treat. The place has miniature tables for the kids, so Biscuit parked himself in a red chair and told Jeff and me that we could go sit at a grown-up table.
He struck up a conversation with the couple at the table next to us. They asked him what kind of ice cream he had, then he asked them the same question. The man was having coffee ice cream.
"My Dad likes coffee," Biscuit said. "And cowboys like coffee, too."
The couple kept smiling and looking at us, as if we should be surprised by the conversation he was having with them. I just smiled back and nodded at them. I really wanted to say, "You have no idea how long it takes us just to get out of the grocery store when Biscuit is in a talking mood!"
After a nap and frozen yogurt, Biscuit was refreshed and ready to go some more, so we hit a few more stores before heading home. And even though all of our purchases at the first two stores were practical, we each got a little something special before we found our way home.
Jeff loves toothpicks. With a toothpick in his mouth, he can give me a kiss without even poking me. I don't know whether to praise his talent or punch him for being rude! I did buy him a tiny little toothpick holder for his pocket. So if you're ever eating corn on the cob around Jeff, you know where to go for the cleanup.
I haven't worn my wedding rings a lot this summer. First it was because of the Fifth Disease swollen joints. Then it was because when it's hot, the skin under my rings gets irritated, so I have to leave them off for a few days. I always worry about where to leave them, so Jeff got me this giraffe ring holder. I bet his collar is worth more than the other giraffes' collars!
My Mama bought Biscuit an indoor basketball hoop with a soft ball, and he wanted to put it on the door of his bedroom. The only problem with that is that we can't always drop everything to go up and play with him. So I got him one to go in the kitchen. Yep. That's a basketball net on the back of my kitchen closet door.
Biscuit started tossing that ball like he had done it all his life. But what tickled me the most was his color commentary on his own playing efforts.
"He shoots, and HE SCORES!" Biscuit yelled after his first toss went into the hoop.
"Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Oh yeah!" Biscuit yelled after he got another one in.
"Okay, when I throw the ball to you, Dad, you throw it to the other teamer," Biscuit said. I was the other teamer. So Jeff threw it to me. I threw it to Biscuit. Then he threw it in the hoop.
It was a busy day followed by a fun night.
Jeff, Biscuit and I left our house at about 11:30 a.m. yesterday and headed to one of the local home improvement stores. Two hours later (yes TWO hours later), we were leaving ... with air filters, paint chips, a toilet flapper, 7-watt low-voltage light bulbs and about a thousand ideas of things we can do with our house.
Our shopping worked up our appetites, so we stopped for pizza. It was such a weird time to eat lunch that we were the only people in the whole restaurant. I didn't mind, though, because our food was fresh and our server was attentive.
Next we headed the other home improvement store. We got a new birdfeeder, more paint chips, a light switch cover, a plug-in cover and even more ideas of stuff to do with our house.
Those places are truly dangerous!
Biscuit still loves naps. And when he gets tired, he goes to sleep. I guess that sounds like a simple thing, but I know moms who could duct tape their kids into their beds, and those kids would still find a way not to take a nap. We have never had that problem with Biscuit.
Some people ask if it's a hindrance to our schedule on the weekends. The timing can be frustrating, but frankly, we don't ever let it hold us back from doing anything.
The reason is, my boy will sleep anywhere. See?
 | ||
| Time for a nap? Yep. Just lay him down and give him a pocketbook on which to rest his head. |
We hadn't planned to be in the second store as long as we were, but Biscuit went to sleep, then we heard thunder and rain. So we decided to wander around and idea shop some more. An hour and a half later (really, no sane person should spend this long in these stores!), we were heading out of there.
Jeff asked if it was okay to ruin Biscuit's dinner, and I asked him what he had in mind. We went to a yogurt shop and got a treat. The place has miniature tables for the kids, so Biscuit parked himself in a red chair and told Jeff and me that we could go sit at a grown-up table.
He struck up a conversation with the couple at the table next to us. They asked him what kind of ice cream he had, then he asked them the same question. The man was having coffee ice cream.
"My Dad likes coffee," Biscuit said. "And cowboys like coffee, too."
The couple kept smiling and looking at us, as if we should be surprised by the conversation he was having with them. I just smiled back and nodded at them. I really wanted to say, "You have no idea how long it takes us just to get out of the grocery store when Biscuit is in a talking mood!"
After a nap and frozen yogurt, Biscuit was refreshed and ready to go some more, so we hit a few more stores before heading home. And even though all of our purchases at the first two stores were practical, we each got a little something special before we found our way home.
 |
| Jeff got fancy toothpicks with spindle ends. |
 |
| I got a giraffe ring holder. |
 |
| Biscuit got a new basketball hoop. |
My Mama bought Biscuit an indoor basketball hoop with a soft ball, and he wanted to put it on the door of his bedroom. The only problem with that is that we can't always drop everything to go up and play with him. So I got him one to go in the kitchen. Yep. That's a basketball net on the back of my kitchen closet door.
Biscuit started tossing that ball like he had done it all his life. But what tickled me the most was his color commentary on his own playing efforts.
"He shoots, and HE SCORES!" Biscuit yelled after his first toss went into the hoop.
"Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Oh yeah!" Biscuit yelled after he got another one in.
"Okay, when I throw the ball to you, Dad, you throw it to the other teamer," Biscuit said. I was the other teamer. So Jeff threw it to me. I threw it to Biscuit. Then he threw it in the hoop.
It was a busy day followed by a fun night.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
An ill wind
I haven't been of much use to my boys this past week. I spent the week trying to get past a kidney stone (past/passed, they both work).
I've had five kidney stones before this one. The first one (in 1995) was the worst because I had no idea what was going on. I was hurting and scared and thought it might be appendicitis because the pain was in my lower right side.
After a trip to the local emergency room, appointments with two doctors, several prescriptions, one test involving a day of preparation and several hours of having dye put in my veins and x-rays taken, I was told it was a kidney stone.
I was working at my first newspaper job and still living in my hometown at that point, so my Mama took me to the ER. It was at the hospital where I used to be a phlebotomist. Mama gave me all kinds of grief after I was feeling better because she said, "As soon as that triage nurse saw your face, everybody just started rushing to get you taken care of. There could've been people way worse off in the waiting room, but no, they had to take care of little Kimmy." Of course, on the actual day, she was as worried as I was, and she was glad they took me back as fast as they did.
I needed medical intervention for the second one, too. I was living in a different state by myself, so that one was harder emotionally than the first one. The next three didn't hurt any less, but because I knew what they were, I was able to get through them on my own.
The longest it's taken for any of them to go away is two weeks, so when this latest one went past that point, I knew I better get some help. I found a great urology group here in town (well, except for the incompetent office person I had to deal with when trying to make the initial appointment).
The doctor was very personable, and he seemed impressed that I could tell him the dates of the stones I've had, what the stones are made of and how long it took them to go away. And when I told him about the tests I had done, he said those tests are now outdated, and they use CT scans instead.
I'll tell you this, the CT scan was a whole lot easier and less painful than the tests they used to do!
Anyway, it's finally gone, and I'm feeling a lot better. Although, I have been exhausted for the past three days. That whole process takes quite a toll on your body and your emotions.
I've read that kidney stones are hereditary, but I can't find anyone on either side of my family who's had them. I guess it has to start somewhere, though ... lucky me. But that makes me worry a bit because I don't want to pass bad stuff on to Biscuit. And there's quite a list of weird ailments I've had.
I've had five kidney stones before this one. The first one (in 1995) was the worst because I had no idea what was going on. I was hurting and scared and thought it might be appendicitis because the pain was in my lower right side.
After a trip to the local emergency room, appointments with two doctors, several prescriptions, one test involving a day of preparation and several hours of having dye put in my veins and x-rays taken, I was told it was a kidney stone.
I was working at my first newspaper job and still living in my hometown at that point, so my Mama took me to the ER. It was at the hospital where I used to be a phlebotomist. Mama gave me all kinds of grief after I was feeling better because she said, "As soon as that triage nurse saw your face, everybody just started rushing to get you taken care of. There could've been people way worse off in the waiting room, but no, they had to take care of little Kimmy." Of course, on the actual day, she was as worried as I was, and she was glad they took me back as fast as they did.
I needed medical intervention for the second one, too. I was living in a different state by myself, so that one was harder emotionally than the first one. The next three didn't hurt any less, but because I knew what they were, I was able to get through them on my own.
The longest it's taken for any of them to go away is two weeks, so when this latest one went past that point, I knew I better get some help. I found a great urology group here in town (well, except for the incompetent office person I had to deal with when trying to make the initial appointment).
The doctor was very personable, and he seemed impressed that I could tell him the dates of the stones I've had, what the stones are made of and how long it took them to go away. And when I told him about the tests I had done, he said those tests are now outdated, and they use CT scans instead.
I'll tell you this, the CT scan was a whole lot easier and less painful than the tests they used to do!
Anyway, it's finally gone, and I'm feeling a lot better. Although, I have been exhausted for the past three days. That whole process takes quite a toll on your body and your emotions.
I've read that kidney stones are hereditary, but I can't find anyone on either side of my family who's had them. I guess it has to start somewhere, though ... lucky me. But that makes me worry a bit because I don't want to pass bad stuff on to Biscuit. And there's quite a list of weird ailments I've had.
- Kidney stones: I've heard they're worse for men than they are for women, and I'll tell you, between labor pains and kidney stones, I'd have hard time choosing the least painful. So I pray that Biscuit didn't pick up on those genes from me.
- Shingles: I had shingles not long after Jeff and I got married. I was so sick, he had to bathe me in the shower. I felt so bad because he had washed my right leg, then seconds later, I threw up on it! Then I cried about throwing up on the leg he just washed. It was very pitiful. But you only get shingles if you've had chicken pox, and Biscuit had a chicken pox vaccine. So hopefully, that's one he won't ever have to worry about.
- Hallux rigidus: This is an arthritic condition in my big toe. As a matter of fact, the term "hallux rigidus" translates to "stiff great toe." All the soft tissue where my big toe attaches to my foot is gone. So when I walk, my toe bone and foot bone rub against each other, which makes it painful to take steps. A friend of mine at work asked one day how far I could walk before it started hurting. I wasn't trying to be a smarty pants, but I said, "Do you see that printer over there? That's about how far I can walk before it starts hurting." The printer is 25 feet away from my desk. Other than fusing the bones together, which would cause a permanent limp, there's no way to fix the problem. And again, it can be hereditary because it's an arthritic condition, and it's based on the shape of your foot, both things that can be affected by your genes.
- Pertussis (aka whooping cough): A couple of years ago, I had a dry cough that just would not go away. It got so bad that I would throw up from the coughing. I went to the doctor, and they did a blood test and told me I had whooping cough. They might as well have said I had rickets or scurvy because I didn't even think people got whooping cough anymore. Come to find out, the titers don't always last as long as they should. Plus, there was a group of parents in the past few years who didn't get their babies vaccinated because they thought vaccinations were causing autism. Instead of autism, a bunch of those kids got sick with diseases that were eradicated in our country years ago. Could you imagine having your baby die from chicken pox or measles or whooping cough? Biscuit is up to date on all his shots, so hopefully, this is one thing he'll never have to worry about.
- Fifth Disease: Yet another weird one. Remember this? For kids, it's splotchy read cheeks, aches, pains, fever and chills. For adults, it's swollen and painful joints, plus nausea and fever. The good thing about this one is that you can only have it once (thank goodness), and Biscuit has had it already.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Rapid response needed
There was a barn fire at our house this evening. The rapid response teams were called out, and everyone was ready.
Six fire trucks were at the scene -- five in front and one ladder truck in the back. See the firefighter on top of the ladder at the top of the barn?
People are going to start to wonder if Jeff and I are arsonists. Something seems to catch on fire every night at our house!
Thanks goodness we have such a vast array of rescue personnel at our disposal.
Six fire trucks were at the scene -- five in front and one ladder truck in the back. See the firefighter on top of the ladder at the top of the barn?
People are going to start to wonder if Jeff and I are arsonists. Something seems to catch on fire every night at our house!
Thanks goodness we have such a vast array of rescue personnel at our disposal.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
My little bookworm
I was an English major in college, which means I read constantly. And I didn't get to pick any of the books. It was all required reading. I was also a non-traditional student. It took me nine years to get my degree because I was working and going to school at the same time.
I share this to say that I spent many, many years not reading for fun.
But a few years ago, something changed.
I think it finally occurred to me that I could read whatever I wanted. I could read classics, or I could the cheesiest novel on the shelf. I could read mysteries or whatever is on the top of the best-seller lists.
Ever since my literary epiphany, I've found my love of reading again.
Biscuit loves books, too. He's enjoyed hearing me read to him ever since he was a tiny little thing. We've read some of his books so many times, I can recite them by heart.
So this evening, I decided to take Biscuit for his first trip to the library.
We walked in, Biscuit looked around, and in a non-library-appropriate voice, said, "MOM! There are books EVERYwhere!"
"Yeah," I said. "This is the library. We're going to get you your own library card so you can check out books to read."
"At the library, you can borrow books and take them home and read them, but then you have to bring them back. You don't get to keep them," Biscuit said. "But, when you bring them back, you DO get to get all new books to take home."
The guy behind the counter made a nice fuss over Biscuit getting his card. Kids get cute little sleeves for their cards.
I let Biscuit hold his card for a few minutes, until he got distracted by a little wooden house in the middle of the kids section. He handed me his card, and he was gone.
I finally dragged him out of there and told him we needed to pick out some books.
Biscuit was overwhelmed, and I know exactly how he felt. I still get overwhelmed walking blindly into a bookstore or library. There are so many choices, I just feel paralyzed.
Luckily, the guy who made Biscuit's card for him had given me the shelf numbers for a couple of books about firefighters. So I figured that was a good start.
We wandered around and grabbed other books about dinosaurs, sharks and cowboys. We got eight books, and I figured that was enough.
I was disappointed when we got to the check-out station, though. It was a self-serve check-out, and I was immediately excited. I always loved the process of checking out books. There was a rhythm to it. The ladies would neatly stack the books, then one by one, they would take the card from the back of the book, stamp it with my library card, close the book and start a new stack. I can still remember the cadence of it.
Tonight, I set Biscuit's books on a platform by the check-out computer. I scanned his card and watched the computer screen as his "account" appeared. All of a sudden, the titles of eight books appeared on the screen. I hadn't scanned the books in any way. All I did was set them on the platform. I'm guessing they have some kind of magnetic strips in them, but that really freaked me out.
Biscuit asked if he could carry one of his books to the car. Then as we were walking out, he said, "Thanks for getting me a library card, Mom. It's really awesome."
Here's Biscuit and his books:
I share this to say that I spent many, many years not reading for fun.
But a few years ago, something changed.
I think it finally occurred to me that I could read whatever I wanted. I could read classics, or I could the cheesiest novel on the shelf. I could read mysteries or whatever is on the top of the best-seller lists.
Ever since my literary epiphany, I've found my love of reading again.
Biscuit loves books, too. He's enjoyed hearing me read to him ever since he was a tiny little thing. We've read some of his books so many times, I can recite them by heart.
So this evening, I decided to take Biscuit for his first trip to the library.
We walked in, Biscuit looked around, and in a non-library-appropriate voice, said, "MOM! There are books EVERYwhere!"
"Yeah," I said. "This is the library. We're going to get you your own library card so you can check out books to read."
"At the library, you can borrow books and take them home and read them, but then you have to bring them back. You don't get to keep them," Biscuit said. "But, when you bring them back, you DO get to get all new books to take home."
The guy behind the counter made a nice fuss over Biscuit getting his card. Kids get cute little sleeves for their cards.
I let Biscuit hold his card for a few minutes, until he got distracted by a little wooden house in the middle of the kids section. He handed me his card, and he was gone.
I finally dragged him out of there and told him we needed to pick out some books.
Biscuit was overwhelmed, and I know exactly how he felt. I still get overwhelmed walking blindly into a bookstore or library. There are so many choices, I just feel paralyzed.
Luckily, the guy who made Biscuit's card for him had given me the shelf numbers for a couple of books about firefighters. So I figured that was a good start.
We wandered around and grabbed other books about dinosaurs, sharks and cowboys. We got eight books, and I figured that was enough.
I was disappointed when we got to the check-out station, though. It was a self-serve check-out, and I was immediately excited. I always loved the process of checking out books. There was a rhythm to it. The ladies would neatly stack the books, then one by one, they would take the card from the back of the book, stamp it with my library card, close the book and start a new stack. I can still remember the cadence of it.
Tonight, I set Biscuit's books on a platform by the check-out computer. I scanned his card and watched the computer screen as his "account" appeared. All of a sudden, the titles of eight books appeared on the screen. I hadn't scanned the books in any way. All I did was set them on the platform. I'm guessing they have some kind of magnetic strips in them, but that really freaked me out.
Biscuit asked if he could carry one of his books to the car. Then as we were walking out, he said, "Thanks for getting me a library card, Mom. It's really awesome."
Here's Biscuit and his books:
 |
| "Mom, that dinosaur on the book is saying 'ROAR'!" |
 |
| After his bath tonight, Biscuit asked if he could read his library books instead of watching TV ... and the angels sang! |
Sunday, September 2, 2012
I'm glad he's a boy
The day I found out I was pregnant, I start picturing all the little dresses and ruffles I would put her in.
Then a few nights later, I started dreaming about boys and men. Sometimes they would just be standing around in a room as I walked through. Sometimes I actually had conversations with them. But I dreamed about boys and men the whole time I was pregnant.
So when it was time to go for the gender-reveal ultrasound, I wasn't excited. I already knew what I was having. I told Jeff that if they told me it was a girl, I'll fall right off the table.
Sure enough, it was a boy. The ultrasound tech looked a little surprised when I immediately looked at Jeff and said, "I told you!"
I wasn't sure what I would do with a boy. I had a brother growing up, and I had childhood friends who were boys. And cousins who were boys.
On second thought, maybe I just wanted to get away from all the boys!
But I guess I was really thinking about the relationship I have with my Mama, and I assumed I would have that with my daughter.
Fast forward to now ... my boy has the coolest toys. He has cars and trucks and blocks and Legos, and we get to crash them and knock them around. We get dirty. And Biscuit loves when we throw him around and have horseplay and pillow fights.
And now, I can't imagine not having a boy. Now, I wonder whatever I would do with a little girl.
See the mess below? Biscuit didn't make that mess. I did. While Biscuit was taking a nap, I set up a loop-de-loop with his racetracks, and I sent every one of his cars through the loop to see if they would make it to the end of the track and sail up on to the hearth. And I had a really fun time doing it.
But don't tell Biscuit. He might get mad if he found out I was playing with his toys without him!
Then a few nights later, I started dreaming about boys and men. Sometimes they would just be standing around in a room as I walked through. Sometimes I actually had conversations with them. But I dreamed about boys and men the whole time I was pregnant.
So when it was time to go for the gender-reveal ultrasound, I wasn't excited. I already knew what I was having. I told Jeff that if they told me it was a girl, I'll fall right off the table.
Sure enough, it was a boy. The ultrasound tech looked a little surprised when I immediately looked at Jeff and said, "I told you!"
I wasn't sure what I would do with a boy. I had a brother growing up, and I had childhood friends who were boys. And cousins who were boys.
On second thought, maybe I just wanted to get away from all the boys!
But I guess I was really thinking about the relationship I have with my Mama, and I assumed I would have that with my daughter.
Fast forward to now ... my boy has the coolest toys. He has cars and trucks and blocks and Legos, and we get to crash them and knock them around. We get dirty. And Biscuit loves when we throw him around and have horseplay and pillow fights.
And now, I can't imagine not having a boy. Now, I wonder whatever I would do with a little girl.
See the mess below? Biscuit didn't make that mess. I did. While Biscuit was taking a nap, I set up a loop-de-loop with his racetracks, and I sent every one of his cars through the loop to see if they would make it to the end of the track and sail up on to the hearth. And I had a really fun time doing it.
But don't tell Biscuit. He might get mad if he found out I was playing with his toys without him!
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Football in the rain
Biscuit went to his first college football game this evening, actually his first football game of any kind. And it was in the rain.
I didn't really want to go sit in the rain watching two teams I don't really care about, but I could tell that Jeff was looking forward to it. Tonight was the first time in years he could go to a football game and just be a spectator. He's use to covering the games for the paper, so it's kind of hard for him to just watch and enjoy instead of analyzing and thinking about the game in the form of a story for the paper.
The game we went to tonight was an annual event between two local colleges, one of which is 10 minutes from our house. It's called the Soup Bowl, and admission is at least two nonperishable food items for a local food bank.
We handed over our food and walked over to the ticket table. The guy handed us our tickets, then asked Biscuit if he was ready for some football.
"Yeah," Biscuit said shyly.
"You don't sound very excited," the ticket guy said.
"I like football," Biscuit said, a little more excitedly. "Football is AWESOME!"
"Yeah! There you go," said the ticket guy. "That's excitement."
The stadium, which is smaller than some high school stadiums I've been to, was really crowded. Even in the rain.
The home team's colors were maroon and white, and guess what color my umbrella was? So we decided we'd sit on the home side and root for the college that's close to our house. Unfortunately, I think we jinxed them, and they lost.
The first two quarters were pretty exciting. The football wasn't great, but the teams were pretty evenly matched. The third quarter dragged on. I thought it would never end. Then in the fourth quarter, things got wound up again. The team we were pulling for was up by one touchdown. But they got a little too sure of themselves and let the other team come back for the win.
As we were leaving, Jeff asked Biscuit about his favorite part of the game.
"Dad, um, when that man caught that ball, and the crowd cheered, that was AWESOME!" Biscuit said. "That was my favorite part."
The funniest part of the evening came when several of the players were sitting on the bench with their coach yelling at them. The announcer said the team was taking a timeout.
"Mom, why are they taking a timeout?" Biscuit asked. "What did they do?"
I had to think for a minute before I answered. Explaining a timeout is easy, but I could tell that wasn't exactly what Biscuit was asking. Then it dawned on me. Biscuit thought the players on the bench getting yelled at were in trouble. He thought the coach had given them a timeout ... a punishment-type timeout.
"Those players aren't in trouble," I told Biscuit. "They're not being punished with a timeout. They're trying to decide who they're going to give the ball to next."
"Ohhhhhh," Biscuit said. "I get it."
Four quarters was a little long for the boy, but between the cheerleaders, the people watching, the football and the mascots, I think we'll be going to a football game again sometime.
I didn't really want to go sit in the rain watching two teams I don't really care about, but I could tell that Jeff was looking forward to it. Tonight was the first time in years he could go to a football game and just be a spectator. He's use to covering the games for the paper, so it's kind of hard for him to just watch and enjoy instead of analyzing and thinking about the game in the form of a story for the paper.
The game we went to tonight was an annual event between two local colleges, one of which is 10 minutes from our house. It's called the Soup Bowl, and admission is at least two nonperishable food items for a local food bank.
We handed over our food and walked over to the ticket table. The guy handed us our tickets, then asked Biscuit if he was ready for some football.
"Yeah," Biscuit said shyly.
"You don't sound very excited," the ticket guy said.
"I like football," Biscuit said, a little more excitedly. "Football is AWESOME!"
"Yeah! There you go," said the ticket guy. "That's excitement."
The stadium, which is smaller than some high school stadiums I've been to, was really crowded. Even in the rain.
The home team's colors were maroon and white, and guess what color my umbrella was? So we decided we'd sit on the home side and root for the college that's close to our house. Unfortunately, I think we jinxed them, and they lost.
The first two quarters were pretty exciting. The football wasn't great, but the teams were pretty evenly matched. The third quarter dragged on. I thought it would never end. Then in the fourth quarter, things got wound up again. The team we were pulling for was up by one touchdown. But they got a little too sure of themselves and let the other team come back for the win.
As we were leaving, Jeff asked Biscuit about his favorite part of the game.
"Dad, um, when that man caught that ball, and the crowd cheered, that was AWESOME!" Biscuit said. "That was my favorite part."
The funniest part of the evening came when several of the players were sitting on the bench with their coach yelling at them. The announcer said the team was taking a timeout.
"Mom, why are they taking a timeout?" Biscuit asked. "What did they do?"
I had to think for a minute before I answered. Explaining a timeout is easy, but I could tell that wasn't exactly what Biscuit was asking. Then it dawned on me. Biscuit thought the players on the bench getting yelled at were in trouble. He thought the coach had given them a timeout ... a punishment-type timeout.
"Those players aren't in trouble," I told Biscuit. "They're not being punished with a timeout. They're trying to decide who they're going to give the ball to next."
"Ohhhhhh," Biscuit said. "I get it."
Four quarters was a little long for the boy, but between the cheerleaders, the people watching, the football and the mascots, I think we'll be going to a football game again sometime.
Bowled over
We went bowling last night, and based on our boy's excitement level, I'm guessing we'll be going again soon.
Jeff and I like to bowl, even though neither of us is great at it. But it hasn't occurred to us to take Biscuit ... until last night.
I got a message Thursday from a friend of mine who said she had a deal that included shoe rental and a couple of hours of bowling at a local bowling alley. My friend has a little boy who's a year younger than Biscuit, and the times they've encountered each other, they've gotten along well. So I accepted the bowling invitation.
We walked into the bowling alley. And Biscuit went CRAZY!
He was jumping up and down with excitement. "Dad, this is the funnest place on Earth!" Biscuit said. "This is awesome, Dad. It's just awesome!"
Jeff looked at me and said, "Did you hear that? I guess that means we don't have to plan a trip to that other 'happiest place on Earth.'"
We went to the shoe rental counter, and I asked for the smallest pair of shoes they had. They were still too big for Biscuit. I could fit my thumb behind his foot in the shoes with no effort, so we told him to just play in his socks.
There were six spots on the scoreboard, and there were five adults. So we split the last spot between Biscuit and his friend.
And let me say that the technology at the bowling alley has stepped up since the last time I was there. You can put a check by the kids' names, and when it's their turn to roll, the bumpers automatically pop up down the sides of the alley. It was pretty cool.
On Biscuit's first turn, I grabbed a ball, and we walked to the line. We put the ball on the floor and gave it a good shove. I guess it wasn't rolling quite fast enough, so Biscuit went running down the lane after it. He was about 10 steps toward the pins before I could holler for him.
"GRIFFIN! GRIFFIN!" I yelled. He stopped and turned to look at me. "Come back! You can't go on that part!"
Biscuit shuffled back toward me, and we stood at the line watching the ball. It was rolling toward the gutter, but with the bumpers up, it just bounced off the side and kept rolling. I can't explain how slowly that ball made its way down the alley.
And the entire time it rolled, Biscuit jumped up and down and yelled. "Go ball! Go ball! Knock 'em down! Knock down a lot of them!"
As the ball finally reached the pins, it was rolling right along the bumper. It barely bumped the pin on the end, but it was enough to make it fall down.
"I GOT ONE!!! I GOT ONE!!! DID YOU SEE THAT?!? I KNOCKED ONE DOWN!!!" Biscuit screamed.
There were high-fives all around, then Biscuit went running into Jeff's arms. He was so very proud of himself.
Biscuit's friend went next, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it all. His parents had to wake him up from a nap just to get to the bowling alley on time, and I think the little man was still half asleep.
He rolled the ball, and it knocked a pin down. He smiled, but it was almost like he didn't quite get it.
The adults all took their turns, then it was time for the kids again. And this time, Biscuit's friend was ready to go. He was excited. He rolled the ball down the alley with help from his mom, and when several pins went down, his whole face lit up. He had a huge grin, and he was ready for high-fives.
The boys were getting so into the game that every time one of the adults would walk back toward the seats, they'd start asking, "Is it my turn? Is it my turn?"
Believe it or not, I forgot to take my camera, but my friend had her smartphone and snapped a couple of pictures.
Here's Biscuit is all his excitement at the bowling alley.
Jeff and I like to bowl, even though neither of us is great at it. But it hasn't occurred to us to take Biscuit ... until last night.
I got a message Thursday from a friend of mine who said she had a deal that included shoe rental and a couple of hours of bowling at a local bowling alley. My friend has a little boy who's a year younger than Biscuit, and the times they've encountered each other, they've gotten along well. So I accepted the bowling invitation.
We walked into the bowling alley. And Biscuit went CRAZY!
He was jumping up and down with excitement. "Dad, this is the funnest place on Earth!" Biscuit said. "This is awesome, Dad. It's just awesome!"
Jeff looked at me and said, "Did you hear that? I guess that means we don't have to plan a trip to that other 'happiest place on Earth.'"
We went to the shoe rental counter, and I asked for the smallest pair of shoes they had. They were still too big for Biscuit. I could fit my thumb behind his foot in the shoes with no effort, so we told him to just play in his socks.
There were six spots on the scoreboard, and there were five adults. So we split the last spot between Biscuit and his friend.
And let me say that the technology at the bowling alley has stepped up since the last time I was there. You can put a check by the kids' names, and when it's their turn to roll, the bumpers automatically pop up down the sides of the alley. It was pretty cool.
On Biscuit's first turn, I grabbed a ball, and we walked to the line. We put the ball on the floor and gave it a good shove. I guess it wasn't rolling quite fast enough, so Biscuit went running down the lane after it. He was about 10 steps toward the pins before I could holler for him.
"GRIFFIN! GRIFFIN!" I yelled. He stopped and turned to look at me. "Come back! You can't go on that part!"
Biscuit shuffled back toward me, and we stood at the line watching the ball. It was rolling toward the gutter, but with the bumpers up, it just bounced off the side and kept rolling. I can't explain how slowly that ball made its way down the alley.
And the entire time it rolled, Biscuit jumped up and down and yelled. "Go ball! Go ball! Knock 'em down! Knock down a lot of them!"
As the ball finally reached the pins, it was rolling right along the bumper. It barely bumped the pin on the end, but it was enough to make it fall down.
"I GOT ONE!!! I GOT ONE!!! DID YOU SEE THAT?!? I KNOCKED ONE DOWN!!!" Biscuit screamed.
There were high-fives all around, then Biscuit went running into Jeff's arms. He was so very proud of himself.
Biscuit's friend went next, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it all. His parents had to wake him up from a nap just to get to the bowling alley on time, and I think the little man was still half asleep.
He rolled the ball, and it knocked a pin down. He smiled, but it was almost like he didn't quite get it.
The adults all took their turns, then it was time for the kids again. And this time, Biscuit's friend was ready to go. He was excited. He rolled the ball down the alley with help from his mom, and when several pins went down, his whole face lit up. He had a huge grin, and he was ready for high-fives.
The boys were getting so into the game that every time one of the adults would walk back toward the seats, they'd start asking, "Is it my turn? Is it my turn?"
Believe it or not, I forgot to take my camera, but my friend had her smartphone and snapped a couple of pictures.
Here's Biscuit is all his excitement at the bowling alley.
 |
| I think this was Biscuit's first turn. He barely caught the left back pin and knocked it down. If there was this much excitement over one pin, what would the kid have down if he had gotten a strike?!? |
 |
| See how everything is in focus except for Biscuit? It seemed like he jumped up and down the entire time we were there. |
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