I was looking back over the blog posts for September, and I realized that I never followed up on what Biscuit will be learning this year.
Apparently, first grade is a big frappin' deal!
One big curriculum point is TRC (Text reading and comprehension). It's basically reading and reading comprehension. Being able to read something and tell where it took place, what happened, who it happened to, etc.
The questions are like ... "What was the problem?" And in complete sentences, the kids have to write, "The problem was ..."
He's got all new vocabulary words to learn. And he'll be working on handwriting and pencil grip. Biscuit's last daycare teacher stressed pencil grip. She corrected them on pencils, crayons, markers, whatever they were using to write or draw with.
Reading will be a big thing. Their reading levels are based on alphabet letters. In kindergarten, they started at A and were supposed to be at D by the time the year was over. Biscuit was high E / low F when kindergarten was done, so he had a head start on this year.
In first grade, they're supposed to go from E to J. So kindergarten was a span of four levels, and first grade is six levels. We were told that second and third grade are just four levels each, so they really push them in first grade.
They're going to work on big questions that address cause and effect. They'll be asking why a lot, and they're encouraging us to ask lots of questions, too. Stuff like "Why did you make that choice?" or "What do you think will happen if you try that?" It helps improve critical thinking.
They'll be working on when to use capital letters and punctuation. And that will include encouraging him to speak and write more complex sentences.
Up until now, they've encouraged us not to help him at all when he writes words. They wanted him to write words as they sound, trying to improve letter recognition and remember what letters sound like separately and together. This year, they want us to start correcting spelling. Not spell the words for them, but let them know when a word is spelled incorrectly, especially making sure they include vowels.
In kindergarten, the word "soccer" would have been "socr" because those are the sounds you hear. This year, they want us to push the kids to spell it correctly.
This one is kind of funny to me. They want the kids to work on coloring within the lines and using appropriate colors for pictures. I understand it, and I'll encourage Biscuit to do this at school. But when we're coloring at home, I'm going to encourage all kinds of creativity. If he wants Santa to have purple hair, I'm going to tell him to go for it!
They've already started working on math word problems. The questions are like, "Biscuit has 8 pieces of pizza. He eats 3 pieces. How many does he have left?" And from that, he has to figure out that is 8 - 3 = 5. Those types of problems are supposed to help with math AND reading. They must be able to understand what they're reading to be able to figure out the numbers.
For behavior, they'll be stressing "think before you act." Even though they're only 6 years old, they're very much held accountable for their actions. The behavior color chart helps with this one.
They'll also be practicing multi-step instructions. This one made me smile at Jeff because a long time ago, I read somewhere that at certain ages kids can understand and follow one-step instructions, then two, and so on. So I've been doing that with Biscuit for a long time.
It'll be like, "Okay, take your clothes to the hamper, then put your backpack near the door. Brush your teeth, then pick out a bedtime book. And he has to be able to hear the instructions once and follow them to the letter.
Here's Biscuit's daily schedule:
Our day
7:30 a.m.: Morning work
8 a.m.: Specials (media center, art, music, PE or guidance where they learn how to handle touch situations)
8:45 a.m.: Fundations (reading exercises and word building)
9:15 a.m.: Language arts (and they eat snack while they work)
9:50 a.m.: Work stations (reading exercises)
10:10 a.m.: Guided reading
10:55 a.m.: Lunch
11:30 a.m.: Recess
12:05 p.m.: Math
1:15 p.m.: Math stations (math exercises)
1:45 p.m.: Science / social studies
2:20 p.m.: Pack up
Then Biscuit goes to his after-school program.
Jeff and I were exhausted after the curriculum meeting was over. It just seemed like so much information. Good thing Biscuit doesn't know he should be panicking right now!
Wednesday, September 30, 2015
Sunday, September 27, 2015
Out of the mouth of my babe
A few things Biscuit has said recently:
New words: Biscuit is doing really well with his reading. He seems to love words as much as Jeff and I do. I guess you'd say he got it honest.
Both of his teachers so far have said that word flash cards are really helpful. And me being the project-minded person I am, I got index cards and set to work.
I wrote all the ones on the kindergarten list, and then I thought I would add some words he would be interested in. I included ball, glove, catch, truck, tractor, sandwich, cookie and his favorite, the one that makes him giggle every time, quesadilla.
So when his first-grade teacher encouraged us to do the same thing with the first-grade word list, I made more cards.
I showed him the cards after I got them made, and there were three cards out of 50-something that he didn't already know. Honestly, I felt like I kind of wasted my time.
So I looked up the second-grade word list, just to see what kind of words it included. I called Biscuit over, and he started reading some of the words on the list. Since he already knows several of those words, I wondered if he might like having cards for those, too.
"Those words are from the second-grade word list," I told him.
"Really?" he said.
"Yep," I said. "Do you want to learn more of those?"
"Um, no thank you, Mom," Biscuit said.
I was surprised by his answer. He says all the time how much he loves learning new things.
"Why don't you want to learn more of them?" I asked.
"Well ... I'm just kind ... I mean ..." Biscuit said.
I realized then what the problem was.
"Dude! I don't mean learn them tonight!" I said.
"Oh!" Biscuit said, looking relieved. "Then yes, let's learn them. You know I love to learn."
Kids are just so literal!
New colors: I can't remember if I've mentioned this or not. My post-surgery time threw me off schedule with my blog post writing. But Biscuit's class is using a behavior color chart again this year. Each kid has a clothespin with his or her name written on it. All the clips start at green (ready to learn). But the weird thing is that this year, the chart is flipped completely upside down!
In kindergarten, the kids started in the middle at green. For good behavior, they could move up to yellow (good day), orange (great day) or red (outstanding day). Or they could go down to blue (think about it), purple (teacher's choice) or purple (parent contact).
In first grade, it's just the opposite: They start on green, go up to blue, purple and pink or go down to yellow, orange or red.
So far, Biscuit's color have been mostly greens or blues. According to his teacher, he'll do something good and move up, then he'll start talking when he isn't supposed to and go back down.
On Friday, he couldn't wait to tell me how well he had done that day.
"Guess what color I got today, Mom?" Biscuit asked.
"Um ... yellow?" I asked.
"Mom! No! That's not a good color," he said, quite exasperated that I would start with a bad color.
"Well how 'bout you just tell me what you got," I said.
"I got pink!" he said with a huge grin.
"You did not!" I said, teasing him.
"Yes, I did," he said. "You can believe it because it's true!"
"How did you do it?" I asked.
"Mom, I was just breaking it down!" he said. "I decided that I would watch the other kids in class ... well the good ones, anyway. If they weren't talking, I didn't talk. And it worked."
"That's a very cool way to go about it," I said. "I'm proud of you for following the rules today."
I guess peer pressure isn't always a bad thing.
New words: Biscuit is doing really well with his reading. He seems to love words as much as Jeff and I do. I guess you'd say he got it honest.
Both of his teachers so far have said that word flash cards are really helpful. And me being the project-minded person I am, I got index cards and set to work.
I wrote all the ones on the kindergarten list, and then I thought I would add some words he would be interested in. I included ball, glove, catch, truck, tractor, sandwich, cookie and his favorite, the one that makes him giggle every time, quesadilla.
So when his first-grade teacher encouraged us to do the same thing with the first-grade word list, I made more cards.
I showed him the cards after I got them made, and there were three cards out of 50-something that he didn't already know. Honestly, I felt like I kind of wasted my time.
So I looked up the second-grade word list, just to see what kind of words it included. I called Biscuit over, and he started reading some of the words on the list. Since he already knows several of those words, I wondered if he might like having cards for those, too.
"Those words are from the second-grade word list," I told him.
"Really?" he said.
"Yep," I said. "Do you want to learn more of those?"
"Um, no thank you, Mom," Biscuit said.
I was surprised by his answer. He says all the time how much he loves learning new things.
"Why don't you want to learn more of them?" I asked.
"Well ... I'm just kind ... I mean ..." Biscuit said.
I realized then what the problem was.
"Dude! I don't mean learn them tonight!" I said.
"Oh!" Biscuit said, looking relieved. "Then yes, let's learn them. You know I love to learn."
Kids are just so literal!
New colors: I can't remember if I've mentioned this or not. My post-surgery time threw me off schedule with my blog post writing. But Biscuit's class is using a behavior color chart again this year. Each kid has a clothespin with his or her name written on it. All the clips start at green (ready to learn). But the weird thing is that this year, the chart is flipped completely upside down!
In kindergarten, the kids started in the middle at green. For good behavior, they could move up to yellow (good day), orange (great day) or red (outstanding day). Or they could go down to blue (think about it), purple (teacher's choice) or purple (parent contact).
In first grade, it's just the opposite: They start on green, go up to blue, purple and pink or go down to yellow, orange or red.
So far, Biscuit's color have been mostly greens or blues. According to his teacher, he'll do something good and move up, then he'll start talking when he isn't supposed to and go back down.
On Friday, he couldn't wait to tell me how well he had done that day.
"Guess what color I got today, Mom?" Biscuit asked.
"Um ... yellow?" I asked.
"Mom! No! That's not a good color," he said, quite exasperated that I would start with a bad color.
"Well how 'bout you just tell me what you got," I said.
"I got pink!" he said with a huge grin.
"You did not!" I said, teasing him.
"Yes, I did," he said. "You can believe it because it's true!"
"How did you do it?" I asked.
"Mom, I was just breaking it down!" he said. "I decided that I would watch the other kids in class ... well the good ones, anyway. If they weren't talking, I didn't talk. And it worked."
"That's a very cool way to go about it," I said. "I'm proud of you for following the rules today."
I guess peer pressure isn't always a bad thing.
Friday, September 25, 2015
Picture day
A couple of weeks ago, I was tucking Biscuit into bed when he said, "Mom, I just wanted you to know that I think I smiled really well today."
"What happened to make you smile?" I asked him.
"Uh ... Moooom," Biscuit said. "It was picture day, remember?"
"Oh no!" I said, smacking my forehead with the palm of my hand. I had completely forgotten about picture day!
I sent my baby to school that day wearing a superhero T-shirt and red athletic shorts. His hair wasn't combed, and he really needed a haircut.
The next morning, Biscuit said, "I was thinking about it, and you know what I think?"
"What do you think?" I asked him.
"I think that even if you're not wearing your nice clothes, and even if you hair isn't combed, you can still have a really nice picture," Biscuit said.
"You know what?" I said. "You are exactly right. I bet it's going to be really nice."
Here it is:
"What happened to make you smile?" I asked him.
"Uh ... Moooom," Biscuit said. "It was picture day, remember?"
"Oh no!" I said, smacking my forehead with the palm of my hand. I had completely forgotten about picture day!
I sent my baby to school that day wearing a superhero T-shirt and red athletic shorts. His hair wasn't combed, and he really needed a haircut.
The next morning, Biscuit said, "I was thinking about it, and you know what I think?"
"What do you think?" I asked him.
"I think that even if you're not wearing your nice clothes, and even if you hair isn't combed, you can still have a really nice picture," Biscuit said.
"You know what?" I said. "You are exactly right. I bet it's going to be really nice."
Here it is:
Wednesday, September 23, 2015
Well that was fast
I've been very proud of how Biscuit has handled this whole surgery and recovery thing. He's been especially good, and for the most part, he's been very gentle. Every once in a while he forgets that there can't be any horseplay. But with a reminder, he backs off quickly.
He does lament not being able to sit in my lap. He doesn't do that much anymore, but every once in a while, he'll bring a book or a blanket and crawl into my chair with me. I really love it, but I can't make a fuss about it or it will remind him that he's getting to be a big boy, and he might not do it anymore.
Monday was my first day back to work, and it was exhausting!
I work at a desk with a computer, so you wouldn't think it wouldn't make me that tired, but by the time I picked up Biscuit, it was all I could do to get myself and Biscuit into the house.
Jeff had an evening assignment, so Biscuit and I were on our own. I put on some comfortable clothes and sat in my rocking chair, and Biscuit asked if he could watch a TV show. The show was about two brothers who teach kids about animals. I started watching the show with Biscuit. The brothers were talking about endangered species.
Then the next thing I knew, I heard Biscuit say, "Mom."
I jumped when I heard him and realized quickly that I had dozed off to sleep. It was just a little before 6 p.m.
"I'm sorry, baby," I said. "I'm just really tired today."
"Well I cleaned all my toys off the couch so you can take a nap," Biscuit said.
"That's very sweet," I said, "but I don't want to leave you by yourself."
"It's okay, Mom," Biscuit said. "If I need you, I'll wake you up."
And with that, I decided that I would take him up on his offer.
An hour later, I started waking up. I could tell right away that I was feeling better. I glanced over where Biscuit was playing, and he had created Lego replicas of a bunch of endangered species animals.
In a really quiet voice, Biscuit leaned down close to my face and said, "Mom, are you awake from your nap?"
"Yes, I am," I said. "And I feel better."
"Then can you make me some dinner?" Biscuit asked.
His sweet, thoughtful self took a hike at the first sign of hunger.
He does lament not being able to sit in my lap. He doesn't do that much anymore, but every once in a while, he'll bring a book or a blanket and crawl into my chair with me. I really love it, but I can't make a fuss about it or it will remind him that he's getting to be a big boy, and he might not do it anymore.
Monday was my first day back to work, and it was exhausting!
I work at a desk with a computer, so you wouldn't think it wouldn't make me that tired, but by the time I picked up Biscuit, it was all I could do to get myself and Biscuit into the house.
Jeff had an evening assignment, so Biscuit and I were on our own. I put on some comfortable clothes and sat in my rocking chair, and Biscuit asked if he could watch a TV show. The show was about two brothers who teach kids about animals. I started watching the show with Biscuit. The brothers were talking about endangered species.
Then the next thing I knew, I heard Biscuit say, "Mom."
I jumped when I heard him and realized quickly that I had dozed off to sleep. It was just a little before 6 p.m.
"I'm sorry, baby," I said. "I'm just really tired today."
"Well I cleaned all my toys off the couch so you can take a nap," Biscuit said.
"That's very sweet," I said, "but I don't want to leave you by yourself."
"It's okay, Mom," Biscuit said. "If I need you, I'll wake you up."
And with that, I decided that I would take him up on his offer.
An hour later, I started waking up. I could tell right away that I was feeling better. I glanced over where Biscuit was playing, and he had created Lego replicas of a bunch of endangered species animals.
In a really quiet voice, Biscuit leaned down close to my face and said, "Mom, are you awake from your nap?"
"Yes, I am," I said. "And I feel better."
"Then can you make me some dinner?" Biscuit asked.
His sweet, thoughtful self took a hike at the first sign of hunger.
Monday, September 21, 2015
Good riddance!
Well, I said goodbye to my appendix on Sept. 10, and I don't miss it at all!
I told my boss when I got to work on Sept. 9 that I just didn't feel good. And she, of course, said, "Go home."
I decided to stick it out, but as the day wore on, I was having some pretty bad pain in my lower belly. By the time I got Biscuit and got home, the pain was bad. By that point, it was centered in my lower right side.
I laid down on the couch and asked Biscuit to read me a book (part of his homework). I was trying to listen to him, but I was really counting down the seconds until Jeff got home.
As soon as Jeff walked through the door, I said, "I need to go somewhere."
"Get you shoes!" Jeff said to Biscuit quite frantically.
I asked him later why he was so abrupt with the boy, and he said, "Because I know you don't cry wolf."
What he didn't know was that I had already looked up the symptoms for appendicitis, and I felt like I was a pretty classic case. Even so, and I hate to have to admit this, it's $100 just to walk into an ER. So I told Jeff to take me to an after-hours clinic that our primary care group runs.
I signed in and waited a while. I finally went back and tried to explain all my symptoms. By that point, the pain was pretty bad. I had been trying to use some meditation-type breathing to help. I was picturing ocean waves coming in and out and trying to match my breathing to that. And believe it or not, it helped a lot.
This tiny little doctor came in and did an exam. She pushed down on my side, and when she let go, I almost came off the table. Apparently, pain when she let go was a pretty good sign. I was also running a fever and had extreme nausea.
The doctor was a native Spanish-speaker, and when she let go of my side and saw my reaction, she said, "Ah, Dios!"
I don't know a ton of Spanish, but I definitely know that she had just exclaimed, "Oh God!"
All of this started Wednesday evening and lasted until Thursday morning. They did surgery about 6 a.m. I won't recount the whole evening, although I will say that it was quite a roller coaster ride.
The surgeon explained to Jeff and me about how simple appendectomies are these days and said there was about a 5 percent chance of anything weird happening.
Well, leave it to me. I joined right into that 5 percent! My appendix was actually perforated. There was only about half of it left. The rest had basically dissolved into my belly. So the surgery was more complicated than usual. They were still able to do it laparoscopically, which meant four small puncture wounds. But because of the complications, they had to leave a drain in. It was quite icky, and quite uncomfortable. But between that and the heavy-duty antibiotics they pumped in me, everything came out just fine.
I still can't believe what good care I got at the hospital. Everybody was just so nice. I know hospitals and other health care outlets have had job cutbacks just like most other businesses, but you couldn't tell it. I encountered a bunch of friendly people who seemed to enjoy their jobs.
Honestly, the only negative experience I had was, ironically enough, the phlebotomists from the lab. And since I spent several years in that very job, I can say that they were not careful and seemed completely rushed. I ended up with an awful bruise about the length of my pinkie finger and about an inch wide. I hadn't ever had a bruise that color before.
Right before I got to check out, one of the hospital bigwigs came around and asked how my stay was. She also asked if she could send a survey, and I asked her if I could recognize people individually on the survey. When she said yes, I started writing down the names of everybody. I'm not sure how I even remembered all of them. I have about 15 names, but when people make a difference, I remember them.
The main thing that helped me feel comfortable was that they were taking care of me, but also taking care of my people. In the ER, they got a pillow and blanket for Biscuit and set him up to sleep on a couch. The woman who processes the insurance sat with Biscuit so Jeff could come back and see me. After my surgery, they made sure my Mama had coffee when she wanted it. They might seem like little things, but they all meant a lot to me.
There's a ton more stuff I could share. Some of my friends from work visited and brought fun gifts. Other friends have brought food to the house. My boss and two others at work took care of doing my section of the paper while I was out. I can't explain to them how much it meant to me not to have to worry about that. I went into the hospital on Sept. 10, and I didn't go back to work until today, so there was a lot for them to pick up on top of their own work.
And I do have to share what one of my friends did for us.
That first night, after I found out that I would need surgery, I told Jeff to take Biscuit home so they could get some sleep. I really wanted Jeff to be there, but it was more important to get Biscuit home for some real rest. I had already emailed his teacher to let her know he wouldn't be at school Thursday.
Hindsight being 20/20, Jeff and I both realized that there were several people who would've gladly taken Biscuit for the night. But he was pretty freaked out by the whole thing, and I couldn't imagine him resting well at someone's house when he didn't know what going on with me.
I explained everything to him in full detail. You know how Biscuit needs to process things, so I figured it would be most beneficial to tell him everything. I stressed that they would give me medicine to help me sleep and that I wouldn't be in any pain, and that seemed to put him at ease.
One of my friends who works the night shift at the paper had texted me that afternoon to see if I wanted to have lunch Friday. I texted her back saying, "Well, it depends on whether I'm in the hospital or not." I told her what was going on, but then I got some pain drugs and couldn't communicate anymore.
A few hours later, she called Jeff.
"You need to be there with Kim when she goes to surgery," she told Jeff. "If you bring Griffin to your house, I'll meet you there and stay with him until the surgery is over."
And she did. Biscuit actually woke up before she ever went to sleep. The only saving grace was that she has Thursday and Friday off as her weekends, so she'd be able to catch up on her sleep for the next couple of days.
I told her that she would never understand how much that meant to Jeff and me, but she sort of brushed it off. She had surgery a month or so ago, and we took her some food and visited and ran a few errands for her. But that stuff didn't feel like as big a deal as what she did for us. I guess the stuff someone does for you always seems more special than what you've done for someone else.
And one funny Biscuit note ...
Thursday evening, Jeff said, "Hey Biscuit, let's go visit Mama at the hospital."
"Um, I don't really want to," Biscuit said.
"Why not?" Jeff asked him.
"Well, I just don't want to see that," Biscuit said.
"What do you think you might see?" Jeff asked.
"Her surgery," Biscuit said.
Biscuit thought that I was going to be in surgery from the time I went into the hospital until the time I left. I can't blame him, though, I wouldn't want to see that, either!
Biscuit has been so good and so helpful. He would help me push my IV pole around during my walks at the hospital. He has been really good, and he has helped me a lot. He will fetch and hand as needed with no complaints. And he picked up on the terminology.
Jeff had an assignment this evening, so I was helping Biscuit get his bath and get ready for bed. But Biscuit was about two steps ahead of me on everything.
"Mom, I'm just trying to help you as much as I can," Biscuit said. "I know that it's hard to recover from an appendectomy, so I just want to do good things for you."
If I could snatch him up and squeeze him, I definitely would!
I told my boss when I got to work on Sept. 9 that I just didn't feel good. And she, of course, said, "Go home."
I decided to stick it out, but as the day wore on, I was having some pretty bad pain in my lower belly. By the time I got Biscuit and got home, the pain was bad. By that point, it was centered in my lower right side.
I laid down on the couch and asked Biscuit to read me a book (part of his homework). I was trying to listen to him, but I was really counting down the seconds until Jeff got home.
As soon as Jeff walked through the door, I said, "I need to go somewhere."
"Get you shoes!" Jeff said to Biscuit quite frantically.
I asked him later why he was so abrupt with the boy, and he said, "Because I know you don't cry wolf."
What he didn't know was that I had already looked up the symptoms for appendicitis, and I felt like I was a pretty classic case. Even so, and I hate to have to admit this, it's $100 just to walk into an ER. So I told Jeff to take me to an after-hours clinic that our primary care group runs.
I signed in and waited a while. I finally went back and tried to explain all my symptoms. By that point, the pain was pretty bad. I had been trying to use some meditation-type breathing to help. I was picturing ocean waves coming in and out and trying to match my breathing to that. And believe it or not, it helped a lot.
This tiny little doctor came in and did an exam. She pushed down on my side, and when she let go, I almost came off the table. Apparently, pain when she let go was a pretty good sign. I was also running a fever and had extreme nausea.
The doctor was a native Spanish-speaker, and when she let go of my side and saw my reaction, she said, "Ah, Dios!"
I don't know a ton of Spanish, but I definitely know that she had just exclaimed, "Oh God!"
All of this started Wednesday evening and lasted until Thursday morning. They did surgery about 6 a.m. I won't recount the whole evening, although I will say that it was quite a roller coaster ride.
The surgeon explained to Jeff and me about how simple appendectomies are these days and said there was about a 5 percent chance of anything weird happening.
Well, leave it to me. I joined right into that 5 percent! My appendix was actually perforated. There was only about half of it left. The rest had basically dissolved into my belly. So the surgery was more complicated than usual. They were still able to do it laparoscopically, which meant four small puncture wounds. But because of the complications, they had to leave a drain in. It was quite icky, and quite uncomfortable. But between that and the heavy-duty antibiotics they pumped in me, everything came out just fine.
I still can't believe what good care I got at the hospital. Everybody was just so nice. I know hospitals and other health care outlets have had job cutbacks just like most other businesses, but you couldn't tell it. I encountered a bunch of friendly people who seemed to enjoy their jobs.
Honestly, the only negative experience I had was, ironically enough, the phlebotomists from the lab. And since I spent several years in that very job, I can say that they were not careful and seemed completely rushed. I ended up with an awful bruise about the length of my pinkie finger and about an inch wide. I hadn't ever had a bruise that color before.
Right before I got to check out, one of the hospital bigwigs came around and asked how my stay was. She also asked if she could send a survey, and I asked her if I could recognize people individually on the survey. When she said yes, I started writing down the names of everybody. I'm not sure how I even remembered all of them. I have about 15 names, but when people make a difference, I remember them.
The main thing that helped me feel comfortable was that they were taking care of me, but also taking care of my people. In the ER, they got a pillow and blanket for Biscuit and set him up to sleep on a couch. The woman who processes the insurance sat with Biscuit so Jeff could come back and see me. After my surgery, they made sure my Mama had coffee when she wanted it. They might seem like little things, but they all meant a lot to me.
There's a ton more stuff I could share. Some of my friends from work visited and brought fun gifts. Other friends have brought food to the house. My boss and two others at work took care of doing my section of the paper while I was out. I can't explain to them how much it meant to me not to have to worry about that. I went into the hospital on Sept. 10, and I didn't go back to work until today, so there was a lot for them to pick up on top of their own work.
And I do have to share what one of my friends did for us.
That first night, after I found out that I would need surgery, I told Jeff to take Biscuit home so they could get some sleep. I really wanted Jeff to be there, but it was more important to get Biscuit home for some real rest. I had already emailed his teacher to let her know he wouldn't be at school Thursday.
Hindsight being 20/20, Jeff and I both realized that there were several people who would've gladly taken Biscuit for the night. But he was pretty freaked out by the whole thing, and I couldn't imagine him resting well at someone's house when he didn't know what going on with me.
I explained everything to him in full detail. You know how Biscuit needs to process things, so I figured it would be most beneficial to tell him everything. I stressed that they would give me medicine to help me sleep and that I wouldn't be in any pain, and that seemed to put him at ease.
One of my friends who works the night shift at the paper had texted me that afternoon to see if I wanted to have lunch Friday. I texted her back saying, "Well, it depends on whether I'm in the hospital or not." I told her what was going on, but then I got some pain drugs and couldn't communicate anymore.
A few hours later, she called Jeff.
"You need to be there with Kim when she goes to surgery," she told Jeff. "If you bring Griffin to your house, I'll meet you there and stay with him until the surgery is over."
And she did. Biscuit actually woke up before she ever went to sleep. The only saving grace was that she has Thursday and Friday off as her weekends, so she'd be able to catch up on her sleep for the next couple of days.
I told her that she would never understand how much that meant to Jeff and me, but she sort of brushed it off. She had surgery a month or so ago, and we took her some food and visited and ran a few errands for her. But that stuff didn't feel like as big a deal as what she did for us. I guess the stuff someone does for you always seems more special than what you've done for someone else.
And one funny Biscuit note ...
Thursday evening, Jeff said, "Hey Biscuit, let's go visit Mama at the hospital."
"Um, I don't really want to," Biscuit said.
"Why not?" Jeff asked him.
"Well, I just don't want to see that," Biscuit said.
"What do you think you might see?" Jeff asked.
"Her surgery," Biscuit said.
Biscuit thought that I was going to be in surgery from the time I went into the hospital until the time I left. I can't blame him, though, I wouldn't want to see that, either!
Biscuit has been so good and so helpful. He would help me push my IV pole around during my walks at the hospital. He has been really good, and he has helped me a lot. He will fetch and hand as needed with no complaints. And he picked up on the terminology.
Jeff had an assignment this evening, so I was helping Biscuit get his bath and get ready for bed. But Biscuit was about two steps ahead of me on everything.
"Mom, I'm just trying to help you as much as I can," Biscuit said. "I know that it's hard to recover from an appendectomy, so I just want to do good things for you."
If I could snatch him up and squeeze him, I definitely would!
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
Everything is gonna be all right
A post from The Daddy Man:
Biscuit didn't cry too much as a baby. And Kimmy and I were very thankful for that.
But when he did, Kimmy would sing to him to calm him down. She used to sing the Bob Marley song "Three Little Birds" to him.
The chorus goes, "Don't worry about a thing. 'Cause every little thing gone be all right."
It just seemed appropriate at the time.
One time when Biscuit was about 3, the song started playing on TV for some reason. Biscuit walked over to the TV and stood there staring until the song was over.
"Do you think he remembers that song?" Kimmy asked me.
"I think what he's doing right now is proof that he does," I told her.
Biscuit is old enough now to enjoy stories about when he was little, and when we told him about that song, he said he did remember it and really loved it. I'm not sure if he actually remembers it or not, but I'd like to think so.
I was giving Biscuit a shower the other night, and the song came on the radio.
"Dad, who sings this song?" asked Biscuit.
"The man's name is Bob Marley," I said.
"I'd like to meet that man sometime and thank him for writing that song," Biscuit said.
"Sorry, dude," I told him. "You can't meet him because Bob Marley died a long time ago. ... His son Ziggy is still alive, though, and he makes music, too. You have one of his albums."
"Well, then I'd like to meet his son," Biscuit said.
Biscuit thought for a little while longer then asked, "Do you know where Bob Marley is buried?"
"Well, he lived in Jamaica, so he might be buried there," I said.
"Well, when we go over there, I'd like to take a really nice rose to put on his grave," Biscuit said.
I really didn't see the point of explaining where Jamaica is and that the likelihood of us going there anytime soon is slim to none. Sometimes it's okay to keep the dream alive.
Biscuit didn't cry too much as a baby. And Kimmy and I were very thankful for that.
But when he did, Kimmy would sing to him to calm him down. She used to sing the Bob Marley song "Three Little Birds" to him.
The chorus goes, "Don't worry about a thing. 'Cause every little thing gone be all right."
It just seemed appropriate at the time.
One time when Biscuit was about 3, the song started playing on TV for some reason. Biscuit walked over to the TV and stood there staring until the song was over.
"Do you think he remembers that song?" Kimmy asked me.
"I think what he's doing right now is proof that he does," I told her.
Biscuit is old enough now to enjoy stories about when he was little, and when we told him about that song, he said he did remember it and really loved it. I'm not sure if he actually remembers it or not, but I'd like to think so.
I was giving Biscuit a shower the other night, and the song came on the radio.
"Dad, who sings this song?" asked Biscuit.
"The man's name is Bob Marley," I said.
"I'd like to meet that man sometime and thank him for writing that song," Biscuit said.
"Well, then I'd like to meet his son," Biscuit said.
Biscuit thought for a little while longer then asked, "Do you know where Bob Marley is buried?"
"Well, he lived in Jamaica, so he might be buried there," I said.
"Well, when we go over there, I'd like to take a really nice rose to put on his grave," Biscuit said.
I really didn't see the point of explaining where Jamaica is and that the likelihood of us going there anytime soon is slim to none. Sometimes it's okay to keep the dream alive.
Monday, September 7, 2015
Out of the mouth of my babe
A few things Biscuit has said recently:
Simple biology: "Mom, do women always born the babies?" Biscuit asked.
"Yes, women born the babies," I said. "Just women. Men can't have babies."
"Yes, they can, Mom," Biscuit said. "Men can be dads and have babies."
I realized that he was hung up on the word "have." "Have" to him means possession. So yes, in those terms, Dads CAN have babies.
"And mamas grow the babies in their bellies, right?" he asked.
OH NO!!! I knew what was coming next.
"So how do the babies get out of the mamas' bellies?" he asked.
"Well, the mamas go to the hospital, and the doctors help get the babies out," I said.
"But how?" Biscuit asked. "How do the doctors get the babies out? Do the doctors have to cut open your belly?"
At this point, I was thanking God for having to have an emergency c-section!
"Yes," I said. "When I went into the hospital, they took me into an operating room and cut my belly to get you out. But don't worry, I couldn't feel anything. It didn't hurt at all, I promise."
That seemed to satisfy him. I figure we've got plenty of time before we have to discuss the other way of "borning the babies."
Nothing to do: Poor Biscuit will play and play and play and then ... there's just nothing left to do.
Despite all the toys and books and DVDs and games and sporting goods he has at his ready, there is just nothing, NOTHING to do!
And sometimes he feels the need to explain how sad his predicament is.
Like when he said this recently, "Mom, sometimes when I don't have anything to do, I just get overboard."
Gettin' good at grammar: Biscuit has been learning about punctuation marks. They started last year in kindergarten, and they're learning more about them this year, too.
When I asked Biscuit recently which punctuation he knew about, he was happy to tell me.
"Well, I know about periods and commas," he said. "But my favorite is excalation points because that means you're really excited."
Simple biology: "Mom, do women always born the babies?" Biscuit asked.
"Yes, women born the babies," I said. "Just women. Men can't have babies."
"Yes, they can, Mom," Biscuit said. "Men can be dads and have babies."
I realized that he was hung up on the word "have." "Have" to him means possession. So yes, in those terms, Dads CAN have babies.
"And mamas grow the babies in their bellies, right?" he asked.
OH NO!!! I knew what was coming next.
"So how do the babies get out of the mamas' bellies?" he asked.
"Well, the mamas go to the hospital, and the doctors help get the babies out," I said.
"But how?" Biscuit asked. "How do the doctors get the babies out? Do the doctors have to cut open your belly?"
At this point, I was thanking God for having to have an emergency c-section!
"Yes," I said. "When I went into the hospital, they took me into an operating room and cut my belly to get you out. But don't worry, I couldn't feel anything. It didn't hurt at all, I promise."
That seemed to satisfy him. I figure we've got plenty of time before we have to discuss the other way of "borning the babies."
Nothing to do: Poor Biscuit will play and play and play and then ... there's just nothing left to do.
Despite all the toys and books and DVDs and games and sporting goods he has at his ready, there is just nothing, NOTHING to do!
And sometimes he feels the need to explain how sad his predicament is.
Like when he said this recently, "Mom, sometimes when I don't have anything to do, I just get overboard."
Gettin' good at grammar: Biscuit has been learning about punctuation marks. They started last year in kindergarten, and they're learning more about them this year, too.
When I asked Biscuit recently which punctuation he knew about, he was happy to tell me.
"Well, I know about periods and commas," he said. "But my favorite is excalation points because that means you're really excited."
Saturday, September 5, 2015
A new old story
I love school supplies, especially pretty little notepads. And I have them scattered all around. I usually use them to start lists for groceries or things to do. And sometimes, I use them to jot down fun things Biscuit says.
I found one this afternoon that made me laugh out loud. This was from sometime last year during kindergarten.
Check it out:
"Mom, we read a book that said would you rather have six legs or 164 legs. Can you believe that?" Biscuit asked.
"Dude! Can you imagine if you had 164 legs, and you had to cut your toenails?!" I said.
"Whoa! It would take forever!" Biscuit said.
"Well, even if you had six legs, it would take a while," I said. "How many toenails do you have on each foot?"
"Well, I have five on each foot," Biscuit said.
"See? That's still a lot," I said.
"Let's see, Mom. That would be ... whoa! ... That would be 30 toenails," Biscuit said as he started to laugh.
"How in the world did you figure that out?" I asked him.
"Well, I have 10 toenails altogether, so I added 10 and 10 and 10," Biscuit said with authority. "See, Mom, you don't know this, but when we go outside after school, I play football with the first-graders. And they've been telling me about their math."
It was quiet after that because I had absolutely no idea what to say to that. Here's hoping he'll be better at math than me!
I found one this afternoon that made me laugh out loud. This was from sometime last year during kindergarten.
Check it out:
"Mom, we read a book that said would you rather have six legs or 164 legs. Can you believe that?" Biscuit asked.
"Dude! Can you imagine if you had 164 legs, and you had to cut your toenails?!" I said.
"Whoa! It would take forever!" Biscuit said.
"Well, even if you had six legs, it would take a while," I said. "How many toenails do you have on each foot?"
"Well, I have five on each foot," Biscuit said.
"See? That's still a lot," I said.
"Let's see, Mom. That would be ... whoa! ... That would be 30 toenails," Biscuit said as he started to laugh.
"How in the world did you figure that out?" I asked him.
"Well, I have 10 toenails altogether, so I added 10 and 10 and 10," Biscuit said with authority. "See, Mom, you don't know this, but when we go outside after school, I play football with the first-graders. And they've been telling me about their math."
It was quiet after that because I had absolutely no idea what to say to that. Here's hoping he'll be better at math than me!
Thursday, September 3, 2015
Out of the mouth of my babe
A few things Biscuit has said recently:
He calls 'em like he sees 'em: Jeff, Biscuit and I were at the dinner table earlier this week, and I was talking about my brother.
"Mom, I think he's a redhead," Biscuit said.
"A redhead? What do you mean?" I asked him. My brother has had dark hair all his life.
"Well, you know, he drives a truck, and he lives in the country, and he rides four-wheelers."
"Oh! A redhead." I said.
I knew he meant a redneck, but first of all, I didn't want to teach him that word because it has such a negative connotation. Plus, I didn't have the time to explain to him that there's a difference between a country boy, a good ol' boy and a redneck.
So for now, my brother will just have to remain a redhead.
Love stories: Jeff, Biscuit and I were eating dinner, and out of nowhere, Biscuit started a big ol' conversation.
"Mom, did you have boyfriends when you were in school?" Biscuit asked.
"Yes, I did," I told him.
"Were you in college or regular school?" he asked.
"I had boyfriends in high school and college," I said. "And I had some boyfriends after college."
"When you broke up with them, did they become your enemies?" he asked.
"Well, some did, and some didn't," I explained to him. "I was with one boyfriend from high school all the way into college. We talked about getting married, but then we broke up. After that, I guess you could say yes, he was my enemy."
"Why did you break up?" he asked.
And because Biscuit is nowhere near being ready to hear about what happened in that relationship, I said, "We just realized we didn't love each other anymore."
He seemed a little sad about that, so I figured I'd tell him about a non-enemy old boyfriend.
"But you know, when I first moved here, I met this guy that I really liked," I told him. "We dated for a while, and he was a really, really nice guy."
"I bet I know who that was," Biscuit said, and he pointed to Jeff.
"Actually, that was before Dad and I started dating," I told him.
You should've seen the look on his face. It was like the look I had when I realized that my Grandaddy was not the first guy my Granny dated!
"What happened to him?" Biscuit asked.
"Well," I told him, "like I said, he was a really nice guy. But I just realized that as much as I liked him, he wasn't the guy I wanted to marry. But he and I are friends now. Neither of us wanted to be enemies. Why are you asking me these questions?"
"Well, Bea (not her real name) told me today at recess that she thought we should break up," he said. "It was definitely not my idea, and I didn't want us to be enemies. So when she said she wanted to break up, I just said, 'No way, Jose!' Then we talked it out and got everything straight, so we called off the breakup, and then we played together again."
The funny thing is, he's never mentioned Bea being a girlfriend. They were in kindergarten together and after-school care together, and I think other people made comments about them always being together enough so that they figured they were a couple.
I didn't marry Jeff until I was 34, almost 35. I had just decided that the whole marriage/kid thing wasn't for me. Then Jeff came along and screwed up all my plans!
So many of my family members and the older ladies in the community I grew up in told me I needed to marry somebody and settle down. But after that high school-into-college boyfriend, I just decided that I would never settle in the love area. I would rather have been on my own that to be in a relationship that wasn't what it needed to be.
I hope that I remember to tell Biscuit that often. I want him to know that finding the right person makes all the difference.
And if he and Bea stay together, I'll be okay with that, too.
He calls 'em like he sees 'em: Jeff, Biscuit and I were at the dinner table earlier this week, and I was talking about my brother.
"Mom, I think he's a redhead," Biscuit said.
"A redhead? What do you mean?" I asked him. My brother has had dark hair all his life.
"Well, you know, he drives a truck, and he lives in the country, and he rides four-wheelers."
"Oh! A redhead." I said.
I knew he meant a redneck, but first of all, I didn't want to teach him that word because it has such a negative connotation. Plus, I didn't have the time to explain to him that there's a difference between a country boy, a good ol' boy and a redneck.
So for now, my brother will just have to remain a redhead.
Love stories: Jeff, Biscuit and I were eating dinner, and out of nowhere, Biscuit started a big ol' conversation.
"Mom, did you have boyfriends when you were in school?" Biscuit asked.
"Yes, I did," I told him.
"Were you in college or regular school?" he asked.
"I had boyfriends in high school and college," I said. "And I had some boyfriends after college."
"When you broke up with them, did they become your enemies?" he asked.
"Well, some did, and some didn't," I explained to him. "I was with one boyfriend from high school all the way into college. We talked about getting married, but then we broke up. After that, I guess you could say yes, he was my enemy."
"Why did you break up?" he asked.
And because Biscuit is nowhere near being ready to hear about what happened in that relationship, I said, "We just realized we didn't love each other anymore."
He seemed a little sad about that, so I figured I'd tell him about a non-enemy old boyfriend.
"But you know, when I first moved here, I met this guy that I really liked," I told him. "We dated for a while, and he was a really, really nice guy."
"I bet I know who that was," Biscuit said, and he pointed to Jeff.
"Actually, that was before Dad and I started dating," I told him.
You should've seen the look on his face. It was like the look I had when I realized that my Grandaddy was not the first guy my Granny dated!
"What happened to him?" Biscuit asked.
"Well," I told him, "like I said, he was a really nice guy. But I just realized that as much as I liked him, he wasn't the guy I wanted to marry. But he and I are friends now. Neither of us wanted to be enemies. Why are you asking me these questions?"
"Well, Bea (not her real name) told me today at recess that she thought we should break up," he said. "It was definitely not my idea, and I didn't want us to be enemies. So when she said she wanted to break up, I just said, 'No way, Jose!' Then we talked it out and got everything straight, so we called off the breakup, and then we played together again."
The funny thing is, he's never mentioned Bea being a girlfriend. They were in kindergarten together and after-school care together, and I think other people made comments about them always being together enough so that they figured they were a couple.
I didn't marry Jeff until I was 34, almost 35. I had just decided that the whole marriage/kid thing wasn't for me. Then Jeff came along and screwed up all my plans!
So many of my family members and the older ladies in the community I grew up in told me I needed to marry somebody and settle down. But after that high school-into-college boyfriend, I just decided that I would never settle in the love area. I would rather have been on my own that to be in a relationship that wasn't what it needed to be.
I hope that I remember to tell Biscuit that often. I want him to know that finding the right person makes all the difference.
And if he and Bea stay together, I'll be okay with that, too.
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
A different approach
So far, school has been a little different this year - in some ways for the better and some ways for the worse.
For the better ... Biscuit knows his way around the school, so whether we drop him out at the front door or at the multipurpose room, he knows how to get to where he's going.
Biscuit is more comfortable with the whole process. He said he was nervous about going into first grade because he thought it was going to be too hard. But after the first week, he realized that they picked up right where kindergarten left off.
I asked him Sunday afternoon, "So do you like your teacher?"
"Yes, yes I do," Biscuit said.
"That's really good," I told him. "Have you learned anything so far?"
"Um ... not really," he said. "We've been doing stuff, but it's nothing I don't know already."
Well, apparently that teacher better step up her game!
For the worse ... We feel a little out of the loop this go-round.
Before Biscuit started kindergarten, we were bombarded with information. I registered him in April. He had his assessment in May to tell where he was academically. We had a special kindergarten open house in July. Then we had the regular school open house in August, a week before school started.
We knew a lot about the teacher because she had filled out her profile on the staff section of the school's website. We had the teacher's email address. We knew what the kids would be doing in class. We knew when they would eat lunch and snack. We knew what and when all their field trips would be. We just had a better general knowledge of what was going on.
This time, things aren't quite as clear.
Biscuit's teacher has only taught fourth grade before now, so this is all new to her. Plus, and I don't know whether this is a bad sign or not, but Biscuit's teacher's name hasn't been moved from the fourth grade page on the website to the first grade. She's also the only teacher who doesn't have her profile information filled out. We don't even have her email address. We were also spoiled by Biscuit's kindergarten teacher. She sent a weekly newsletter giving us a heads-up on everything that was happening that week.
Biscuit came home the first day and informed me that this year, they eat their snack before they eat lunch. And nobody has told us what time each of those things happens. It's not just a matter of curiosity. What I pack depends for lunch and snack depends on how long it needs to stay hot or cold, i.e. thermal bowl or freezer packs. I'm planning to call the school to find out the times tomorrow, but it's the principal of the thing.
We have a curriculum night on Thursday, so I'm hoping we'll get some good information then.
I'm not sure if we were just spoiled by the first teacher or if the way this teacher works is more common. I hope it's just that she's finding her footing in first grade after that many years in fourth grade.
Cross your fingers that we'll find out more on Thursday.
Note: I wrote this Sunday evening and scheduled it to post Tuesday evening. On Monday afternoon, we got an email from Biscuit's teacher. It included some general information, along with a newsletter. So maybe I jumped the gun on my criticisms. Let's hope that communication will continue.
For the better ... Biscuit knows his way around the school, so whether we drop him out at the front door or at the multipurpose room, he knows how to get to where he's going.
Biscuit is more comfortable with the whole process. He said he was nervous about going into first grade because he thought it was going to be too hard. But after the first week, he realized that they picked up right where kindergarten left off.
I asked him Sunday afternoon, "So do you like your teacher?"
"Yes, yes I do," Biscuit said.
"That's really good," I told him. "Have you learned anything so far?"
"Um ... not really," he said. "We've been doing stuff, but it's nothing I don't know already."
Well, apparently that teacher better step up her game!
For the worse ... We feel a little out of the loop this go-round.
Before Biscuit started kindergarten, we were bombarded with information. I registered him in April. He had his assessment in May to tell where he was academically. We had a special kindergarten open house in July. Then we had the regular school open house in August, a week before school started.
We knew a lot about the teacher because she had filled out her profile on the staff section of the school's website. We had the teacher's email address. We knew what the kids would be doing in class. We knew when they would eat lunch and snack. We knew what and when all their field trips would be. We just had a better general knowledge of what was going on.
This time, things aren't quite as clear.
Biscuit's teacher has only taught fourth grade before now, so this is all new to her. Plus, and I don't know whether this is a bad sign or not, but Biscuit's teacher's name hasn't been moved from the fourth grade page on the website to the first grade. She's also the only teacher who doesn't have her profile information filled out. We don't even have her email address. We were also spoiled by Biscuit's kindergarten teacher. She sent a weekly newsletter giving us a heads-up on everything that was happening that week.
Biscuit came home the first day and informed me that this year, they eat their snack before they eat lunch. And nobody has told us what time each of those things happens. It's not just a matter of curiosity. What I pack depends for lunch and snack depends on how long it needs to stay hot or cold, i.e. thermal bowl or freezer packs. I'm planning to call the school to find out the times tomorrow, but it's the principal of the thing.
We have a curriculum night on Thursday, so I'm hoping we'll get some good information then.
I'm not sure if we were just spoiled by the first teacher or if the way this teacher works is more common. I hope it's just that she's finding her footing in first grade after that many years in fourth grade.
Cross your fingers that we'll find out more on Thursday.
Note: I wrote this Sunday evening and scheduled it to post Tuesday evening. On Monday afternoon, we got an email from Biscuit's teacher. It included some general information, along with a newsletter. So maybe I jumped the gun on my criticisms. Let's hope that communication will continue.
Sunday, August 30, 2015
I'm not a fan
One evening a couple of months ago, I walked upstairs and into Biscuit's room. And guess where I found him?
He was standing (teetering would be more accurate) on the footboard of his bed, reaching for the chain on the ceiling fan.
The first thing most of the interior designers on the home decorating shows do is rip out ceiling fans. But Jeff and I love them and have them in almost every room of our house, including the kitchen.
The living room and all three bedrooms had fans when we moved into our house (12 years ago, can you believe it?), but they weren't quite our style (picture mid-1980s). So we started in the living room and our bedroom and picked out and installed fans we liked. The loft area (aka Jeff's movie room) didn't have a ceiling box, but we wanted a fan up there. So my brother did what he does and put an electrical box in the ceiling. After that, we put up a new fan in the nursery (which wasn't a nursery yet at that point).
Biscuit's room, which used to be the guest room, wasn't a priority because that room wasn't used that often. But even after we fixed it up for Biscuit, we just never got around to replacing the ceiling fan.
So back to Biscuit.
The fan in that room had a light kit attached, and the light and fan were operated by pull chains. During the summer, we would leave the fan running with the lights off. A switch on the wall operated the whole unit. So if you wanted one running with the other off, you had to use the chains.
Biscuit was playing in his room, and apparently, his lamp and the window weren't providing enough light. So he climbed up on the footboard and stretched onto his tiptoes to reach the chain to turn on the light.
My first instinct was to yell at him to get down from there! But he didn't know I was behind him, so I was afraid if I yelled, he might fall.
So I said quietly, "I'm behind you, and you need to get down right now."
"But Mom," Biscuit said. "I need more light."
"I understand that," I said. "But what you're doing is very, very dangerous. If you fell from there, you could get hurt really badly."
I told Jeff that I was going to the home improvement store to buy a longer chain. I was hoping a longer chain would prevent our only son from killing himself just to get some light.
Jeff still doesn't believe me, but the rack where the chains should have been was completely empty. Not one chain there.
So I took a stroll through the fan aisles. You know, just to take a look. And of course, I saw the perfect fan. The right metal finish, the right wood finish on the blades, remote control operated, LED light kit built in. I took a picture of it and texted it to Jeff.
As I said, he didn't believe me that there were no chains. He was convinced that I just wanted a new fan. And although I did, I wouldn't have lied about the chains being gone. I would've just said, "Hey, I want this new fan."
So I bought the fan and brought it home. It was too late to install it, so we put it on the to-do list for the next evening.
Jeff and I don't work well together when we're building something or installing something. We have to craft a plan of who's going to do what and stick to it. Otherwise, we snap at each other and argue about who's doing it right or wrong.
So we laid out all the pieces of the fan and made our claims about the assorted installation jobs. I won't go into all the details because despite choosing our respective jobs, there were still a couple of accusations and arguments.
We finally got everything done, and I grabbed the batteries and remote. I looked at the little diagram that tells you which way the batteries go in, and I installed them.
Jeff and I stood back and stared at the ceiling as I pushed the button to start the fan.
Nothing happened.
"You are KIDDING me!" I said. "If we have to take that stupid thing apart, I'm going to scream!"
"Let me see the remote," Jeff said.
Really? Did he just all but say that I can't even install batteries properly? Ugh!
He popped the back off the remote, flipped the batteries around, hit the button and watched as the fan started turning.
"Fine!" I said and stormed out of the room.
It might not have been the most mature thing to do, but it certainly made me feel better!
They included a little remote holster that could be mounted on the wall. Jeff put it right beside the light switch, so it's easily accessible for Biscuit. And he loves it!
He was standing (teetering would be more accurate) on the footboard of his bed, reaching for the chain on the ceiling fan.
The first thing most of the interior designers on the home decorating shows do is rip out ceiling fans. But Jeff and I love them and have them in almost every room of our house, including the kitchen.
The living room and all three bedrooms had fans when we moved into our house (12 years ago, can you believe it?), but they weren't quite our style (picture mid-1980s). So we started in the living room and our bedroom and picked out and installed fans we liked. The loft area (aka Jeff's movie room) didn't have a ceiling box, but we wanted a fan up there. So my brother did what he does and put an electrical box in the ceiling. After that, we put up a new fan in the nursery (which wasn't a nursery yet at that point).
Biscuit's room, which used to be the guest room, wasn't a priority because that room wasn't used that often. But even after we fixed it up for Biscuit, we just never got around to replacing the ceiling fan.
So back to Biscuit.
The fan in that room had a light kit attached, and the light and fan were operated by pull chains. During the summer, we would leave the fan running with the lights off. A switch on the wall operated the whole unit. So if you wanted one running with the other off, you had to use the chains.
Biscuit was playing in his room, and apparently, his lamp and the window weren't providing enough light. So he climbed up on the footboard and stretched onto his tiptoes to reach the chain to turn on the light.
My first instinct was to yell at him to get down from there! But he didn't know I was behind him, so I was afraid if I yelled, he might fall.
So I said quietly, "I'm behind you, and you need to get down right now."
"But Mom," Biscuit said. "I need more light."
"I understand that," I said. "But what you're doing is very, very dangerous. If you fell from there, you could get hurt really badly."
I told Jeff that I was going to the home improvement store to buy a longer chain. I was hoping a longer chain would prevent our only son from killing himself just to get some light.
Jeff still doesn't believe me, but the rack where the chains should have been was completely empty. Not one chain there.
So I took a stroll through the fan aisles. You know, just to take a look. And of course, I saw the perfect fan. The right metal finish, the right wood finish on the blades, remote control operated, LED light kit built in. I took a picture of it and texted it to Jeff.
As I said, he didn't believe me that there were no chains. He was convinced that I just wanted a new fan. And although I did, I wouldn't have lied about the chains being gone. I would've just said, "Hey, I want this new fan."
So I bought the fan and brought it home. It was too late to install it, so we put it on the to-do list for the next evening.
Jeff and I don't work well together when we're building something or installing something. We have to craft a plan of who's going to do what and stick to it. Otherwise, we snap at each other and argue about who's doing it right or wrong.
So we laid out all the pieces of the fan and made our claims about the assorted installation jobs. I won't go into all the details because despite choosing our respective jobs, there were still a couple of accusations and arguments.
We finally got everything done, and I grabbed the batteries and remote. I looked at the little diagram that tells you which way the batteries go in, and I installed them.
Jeff and I stood back and stared at the ceiling as I pushed the button to start the fan.
Nothing happened.
"You are KIDDING me!" I said. "If we have to take that stupid thing apart, I'm going to scream!"
"Let me see the remote," Jeff said.
Really? Did he just all but say that I can't even install batteries properly? Ugh!
He popped the back off the remote, flipped the batteries around, hit the button and watched as the fan started turning.
"Fine!" I said and stormed out of the room.
It might not have been the most mature thing to do, but it certainly made me feel better!
They included a little remote holster that could be mounted on the wall. Jeff put it right beside the light switch, so it's easily accessible for Biscuit. And he loves it!
Friday, August 28, 2015
Snuggle Biscuit
The Saturday before school started, Biscuit and I were home by ourselves. Jeff was still covering the golf tournament.
Biscuit and I had been doing things around the house all morning - getting school supplies ready and picking out outfits for the first week of school.
I decided to take a break and sat down in my rocking chair in the living room. Biscuit grabbed a blanket and crawled up into my lap and fell asleep. Biscuit has always been a snuggly boy, but his snuggle time with me gotten less frequent in the past few months. So I was not about to disrupt our time together by telling him that we had more stuff to do.
Biscuit stayed that way for a long time. I dozed a little myself, but when I felt tingles in my arm and realized that it was going to sleep, I figured I better put him down.
Just as I shifted to get up, Biscuit opened his eyes and looked at me.
"Do you want to get on the couch so you can stretch out?" I asked him.
He nodded, and I helped him take the three steps to the couch, put his head on a pillow and covered him with a blanket.
I was still sleepy myself, so I went into my bedroom to lie down on the bed. I turned on the TV, but I didn't watch very long until I fell asleep. It felt so indulgent to doze off, snuggled up in my bed in the middle of the afternoon.
It seemed like two minutes went by (really it was about eight minutes) before I heard, "Mom? I would like some water, but I can't reach a cup. Can you help me?"
There are few things I wanted to do less than get up and help him get water. But I'm required by law not to let him get dehydrated.
I climbed out of my cocoon and stumbled into the kitchen, feeling much bitterness!
Once I was awake, Biscuit and I got a few more things done. Then we spent the rest of the evening playing and watching TV. A nice, relaxing evening.
Just before I put Biscuit to bed, I decided to let him in on a secret.
"I know you're not a baby, but I really enjoyed you sleeping in my lap like you used to when you were a baby," I told Biscuit.
"Well, Mom," he said. "I liked it, too, I just didn't want to say it."
Biscuit and I had been doing things around the house all morning - getting school supplies ready and picking out outfits for the first week of school.
I decided to take a break and sat down in my rocking chair in the living room. Biscuit grabbed a blanket and crawled up into my lap and fell asleep. Biscuit has always been a snuggly boy, but his snuggle time with me gotten less frequent in the past few months. So I was not about to disrupt our time together by telling him that we had more stuff to do.
Biscuit stayed that way for a long time. I dozed a little myself, but when I felt tingles in my arm and realized that it was going to sleep, I figured I better put him down.
Just as I shifted to get up, Biscuit opened his eyes and looked at me.
"Do you want to get on the couch so you can stretch out?" I asked him.
He nodded, and I helped him take the three steps to the couch, put his head on a pillow and covered him with a blanket.
I was still sleepy myself, so I went into my bedroom to lie down on the bed. I turned on the TV, but I didn't watch very long until I fell asleep. It felt so indulgent to doze off, snuggled up in my bed in the middle of the afternoon.
It seemed like two minutes went by (really it was about eight minutes) before I heard, "Mom? I would like some water, but I can't reach a cup. Can you help me?"
There are few things I wanted to do less than get up and help him get water. But I'm required by law not to let him get dehydrated.
I climbed out of my cocoon and stumbled into the kitchen, feeling much bitterness!
Once I was awake, Biscuit and I got a few more things done. Then we spent the rest of the evening playing and watching TV. A nice, relaxing evening.
Just before I put Biscuit to bed, I decided to let him in on a secret.
"I know you're not a baby, but I really enjoyed you sleeping in my lap like you used to when you were a baby," I told Biscuit.
"Well, Mom," he said. "I liked it, too, I just didn't want to say it."
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
Out of the mouth of my babe
A few things Biscuit has said recently:
Business on TV: Jeff was helping Biscuit in the shower the other night, and things were pretty quiet. That silence usually means that Biscuit is pondering something, and a hard-to-answer question is coming.
"Hey, Dad," Biscuit said. "Have you ever noticed that nobody on TV ever has to go to the bathroom?"
"What do you mean?" Jeff asked.
"Well, like the Power Rangers," Biscuit said. "They never go to the bathroom. ... I don't even know if they HAVE a bathroom."
Captain Obvious: Biscuit and I were horseplaying the other afternoon. I was lying on his bed, and he tried to scoot past me. I reached out to grab his arm and ended up slapping him pretty hard right on the side of his neck.
I apologized, and we laughed about it. And I said, "Dude! You cannot tell Dad that I slapped you in the neck."
"Why, Mom?" Biscuit asked.
"Because I'll get in trouble for being mean to you!" I said.
A few minutes later, Jeff walked in the front door.
Biscuit ran to the top of the stairs and yelled, "Good evening, Dad! Mama didn't slap me in the neck or anything while you were gone."
Thanks for the subtlety, dude!
To bed or not to bed: Jeff and I were talking in the living room, and last we knew, Biscuit was playing.
Then Biscuit walks into the living room and asks (with much attitude), "Is someone gonna take me to bed or what?"
The natural way: While Jeff was covering the golf tournament, Biscuit and I went out to dinner with one of my friends.
She asked Biscuit if he had made any friends during summer day camp.
"Yes, yes I have," Biscuit said. "One of my new friends, you know what he does?"
"What?" she asked him.
"He gets everybody's attention in our room, and then, get this," BIscuit said. "He uses his armpit to fart!"
"Really?" she said with pretend disgust, but really trying not to laugh.
"Hey, your uncle knows how to do that," I told him. "Do you want him to teach you?"
"Um, no, Mom!" Biscuit said, in a deadly serious tone. "I only want to fart with my butt!"
Business on TV: Jeff was helping Biscuit in the shower the other night, and things were pretty quiet. That silence usually means that Biscuit is pondering something, and a hard-to-answer question is coming.
"Hey, Dad," Biscuit said. "Have you ever noticed that nobody on TV ever has to go to the bathroom?"
"What do you mean?" Jeff asked.
"Well, like the Power Rangers," Biscuit said. "They never go to the bathroom. ... I don't even know if they HAVE a bathroom."
Captain Obvious: Biscuit and I were horseplaying the other afternoon. I was lying on his bed, and he tried to scoot past me. I reached out to grab his arm and ended up slapping him pretty hard right on the side of his neck.
I apologized, and we laughed about it. And I said, "Dude! You cannot tell Dad that I slapped you in the neck."
"Why, Mom?" Biscuit asked.
"Because I'll get in trouble for being mean to you!" I said.
A few minutes later, Jeff walked in the front door.
Biscuit ran to the top of the stairs and yelled, "Good evening, Dad! Mama didn't slap me in the neck or anything while you were gone."
Thanks for the subtlety, dude!
To bed or not to bed: Jeff and I were talking in the living room, and last we knew, Biscuit was playing.
Then Biscuit walks into the living room and asks (with much attitude), "Is someone gonna take me to bed or what?"
The natural way: While Jeff was covering the golf tournament, Biscuit and I went out to dinner with one of my friends.
She asked Biscuit if he had made any friends during summer day camp.
"Yes, yes I have," Biscuit said. "One of my new friends, you know what he does?"
"What?" she asked him.
"He gets everybody's attention in our room, and then, get this," BIscuit said. "He uses his armpit to fart!"
"Really?" she said with pretend disgust, but really trying not to laugh.
"Hey, your uncle knows how to do that," I told him. "Do you want him to teach you?"
"Um, no, Mom!" Biscuit said, in a deadly serious tone. "I only want to fart with my butt!"
Monday, August 24, 2015
First day of first grade
Biscuit got off to a good start this morning. He woke up EARLY but in a good mood.
He performed his usual routine of getting dressed from smallest to largest - socks, underwear, shorts, shirt. Then he had breakfast, and he was ready to go.
He said he was excited but that he was also a little nervous.
"I just think first grade is going to be really hard," he said.
I didn't have the heart to tell him, "You ain't seen nothing yet!"
He performed his usual routine of getting dressed from smallest to largest - socks, underwear, shorts, shirt. Then he had breakfast, and he was ready to go.
He said he was excited but that he was also a little nervous.
"I just think first grade is going to be really hard," he said.
I didn't have the heart to tell him, "You ain't seen nothing yet!"
Saturday, August 22, 2015
Spending time in the woods
Biscuit spent another week with his grandparents, and by all accounts, a good time was had by all.
Biscuit's time at his grandparents is spent differently than his time at home. I think I've posted pictures before, but my parents live in the woods. You can't hear cars on the highway, and when an airplane goes over, everybody looks up because it's such a rarity to see one there.
Biscuit gets to be a country boy there. He gets to fish and ride tractors. He rides four-wheelers and messes with the horses and goats. Everybody at my parents' church knows him and calls him by name when he visits. They take care of him and make sure that he gets where he's supposed to be. And my brother and his family live only about five minutes away, so he gets to spend time with them, too.
And Biscuit has figured out that the way they talk is not the way he talks. Last time Biscuit was down there, my Mama asked my nephew if he had remembered to get his pocket knife. And Biscuit mimicked her perfectly. I can't think of a way to spell the word "knife" so you can know how she says it. But everybody in the house started laughing about it. He thought for a minute that he was in trouble, but Mama assured him that they just thought it was funny how he picked it up so well.
Jeff and I were in the mountains from Thursday to Saturday. After we checked out of the inn and spent a little more time in some of the shops, we headed down to my parents' house. The plan was to get up Sunday morning and leave when my parents went to church. But Biscuit said he wanted to go to Mama's church again, so we stayed.
Since we thought we would be leaving early Sunday morning, Jeff and I didn't have any church-appropriate clothes, so we stayed home. We stopped to get some apples in the mountains, so I spent my morning making an apple pie. It was nice to be baking in Mama's kitchen.
After lunch (and apple pie!), we loaded up the car to head home. Then Biscuit decided he wasn't quite ready.
"Mom, can Dada and Papa and I shoot one more game of pool?" Biscuit asked.
"One game," I said.
I put the rest of the stuff in the car, then looked up to see my brother and nephew coming down the road with a boat on the back of the truck. I gave up right then thinking that we were going to get home at a decent hour.
My brother and nephew drove the truck into field by the pond and unloaded the boat. As soon as Biscuit realized they were there, he took off running to the pond.
The boat is just a little jon boat, perfectly sized for the ponds at my parents' house and for the one at my brother's house. A few years ago, not long after my brother first got his boat, Jeff drew his name for Christmas. Being his usual funny self, Jeff bought stick-on letters to spell out "Pond Yacht." He also went to a kitschy beach store and bought him a captain's hat. And guess what the name of the boat is? My brother put the name on the side of the boat the day after Jeff gave him the letters!
Well, as soon as Biscuit saw the boat, he started yelling, "Can you take me out? Can you take me out? Please tell me you have a life jacket and can take me out."
"Well," my brother said. "The thing is, we don't have any gas."
"Awwww," Biscuit said.
I leaned down and whispered into Biscuit's ear, "Ask him why he needs gas when the boat doesn't have a motor, and he has two arms and oars."
"Yeah," Biscuit said. "You don't even need gas!"
My brother threw Biscuit a life jacket, and the three of them (Biscuit, my brother and nephew) climbed into the boat and floated away.
They had fishing rods and for about 10 minutes before they launched the boat, they pawed around in the grass catching crickets for bait. Fishing in Papa's pond is usually catch and release. Grandmama doesn't like the smell of fish in her kitchen, so Papa has to clean them and fry them in an outdoor cooker. But on Sunday, they didn't want to keep anything they caught.
Sometimes I figure out that Biscuit has learned something that I didn't teach him. That's weird enough, but to realize that he has learned something new, and it's clearly been a while since he learned it - well, that's really weird.
The boys circled the pond, then came to rest at a spot on the side. My brother baited a hook and handed the rod to Biscuit. Biscuit grabbed it, slowly pulled it around to the side, then whipped it out into the pond. He looked like he had done it a thousand times.
I wasn't prepared the first time he did it, but when he reeled the hook back in, I grabbed my camera and put it on video.
I love that Biscuit gets to spend time where I grew up. I love that he gets to have some of the same experiences I had as a kid and that he gets to run around the same yard I ran around. And it certainly doesn't hurt that Jeff and I have some non-kid time together, too.
It's always hard to hand Biscuit off and drive away without him, but knowing how much fun he'll have makes it a bit easier. And then I get to pick him up and get lots of hugs and kisses.
Biscuit's time at his grandparents is spent differently than his time at home. I think I've posted pictures before, but my parents live in the woods. You can't hear cars on the highway, and when an airplane goes over, everybody looks up because it's such a rarity to see one there.
Biscuit gets to be a country boy there. He gets to fish and ride tractors. He rides four-wheelers and messes with the horses and goats. Everybody at my parents' church knows him and calls him by name when he visits. They take care of him and make sure that he gets where he's supposed to be. And my brother and his family live only about five minutes away, so he gets to spend time with them, too.
And Biscuit has figured out that the way they talk is not the way he talks. Last time Biscuit was down there, my Mama asked my nephew if he had remembered to get his pocket knife. And Biscuit mimicked her perfectly. I can't think of a way to spell the word "knife" so you can know how she says it. But everybody in the house started laughing about it. He thought for a minute that he was in trouble, but Mama assured him that they just thought it was funny how he picked it up so well.
Jeff and I were in the mountains from Thursday to Saturday. After we checked out of the inn and spent a little more time in some of the shops, we headed down to my parents' house. The plan was to get up Sunday morning and leave when my parents went to church. But Biscuit said he wanted to go to Mama's church again, so we stayed.
Since we thought we would be leaving early Sunday morning, Jeff and I didn't have any church-appropriate clothes, so we stayed home. We stopped to get some apples in the mountains, so I spent my morning making an apple pie. It was nice to be baking in Mama's kitchen.
After lunch (and apple pie!), we loaded up the car to head home. Then Biscuit decided he wasn't quite ready.
"Mom, can Dada and Papa and I shoot one more game of pool?" Biscuit asked.
"One game," I said.
I put the rest of the stuff in the car, then looked up to see my brother and nephew coming down the road with a boat on the back of the truck. I gave up right then thinking that we were going to get home at a decent hour.
My brother and nephew drove the truck into field by the pond and unloaded the boat. As soon as Biscuit realized they were there, he took off running to the pond.
The boat is just a little jon boat, perfectly sized for the ponds at my parents' house and for the one at my brother's house. A few years ago, not long after my brother first got his boat, Jeff drew his name for Christmas. Being his usual funny self, Jeff bought stick-on letters to spell out "Pond Yacht." He also went to a kitschy beach store and bought him a captain's hat. And guess what the name of the boat is? My brother put the name on the side of the boat the day after Jeff gave him the letters!
Well, as soon as Biscuit saw the boat, he started yelling, "Can you take me out? Can you take me out? Please tell me you have a life jacket and can take me out."
"Well," my brother said. "The thing is, we don't have any gas."
"Awwww," Biscuit said.
I leaned down and whispered into Biscuit's ear, "Ask him why he needs gas when the boat doesn't have a motor, and he has two arms and oars."
"Yeah," Biscuit said. "You don't even need gas!"
My brother threw Biscuit a life jacket, and the three of them (Biscuit, my brother and nephew) climbed into the boat and floated away.
They had fishing rods and for about 10 minutes before they launched the boat, they pawed around in the grass catching crickets for bait. Fishing in Papa's pond is usually catch and release. Grandmama doesn't like the smell of fish in her kitchen, so Papa has to clean them and fry them in an outdoor cooker. But on Sunday, they didn't want to keep anything they caught.
Sometimes I figure out that Biscuit has learned something that I didn't teach him. That's weird enough, but to realize that he has learned something new, and it's clearly been a while since he learned it - well, that's really weird.
The boys circled the pond, then came to rest at a spot on the side. My brother baited a hook and handed the rod to Biscuit. Biscuit grabbed it, slowly pulled it around to the side, then whipped it out into the pond. He looked like he had done it a thousand times.
I wasn't prepared the first time he did it, but when he reeled the hook back in, I grabbed my camera and put it on video.
I love that Biscuit gets to spend time where I grew up. I love that he gets to have some of the same experiences I had as a kid and that he gets to run around the same yard I ran around. And it certainly doesn't hurt that Jeff and I have some non-kid time together, too.
It's always hard to hand Biscuit off and drive away without him, but knowing how much fun he'll have makes it a bit easier. And then I get to pick him up and get lots of hugs and kisses.
Thursday, August 20, 2015
A getaway for Mom and Dad
Biscuit spent another week at his grandparents' house recently, and Jeff and I saw two - count 'em - two movies!
That Thursday through Sunday was supposed to be my annual girls' weekend away, but one of the girls had a family emergency, and we had to postpone it. Luckily, the people who own the condo we rented were willing to change the dates for us. So we have a prepaid trip just waiting for us to set the dates.
But I had been looking forward to being away from home, and I already had the days off. And one of the other girls felt the same way. So we decided to do a couples' trip. Jeff and the other husband got the days off, and I started looking at hotels at the beach. Ugh! Do you know how expensive it is to get a room at the beach right now?!
I was disappointed, especially since we had the boys get the days off, too.
Then Jeff said, "Does it have to be the beach?"
I immediately thought about a place Jeff and I stayed about eight years ago. It's an old, pretty inn in the mountains. It was built in 1923, and there are no TVs or phones in the rooms. And there's no air conditioning. For Southern people, that's a scary thing to say. And even though it was hotter this trip than it was the last time Jeff and I went, it was still nice with the windows open and ceiling fan running.
The things I like about this place are numerous. Here are just a few:
1. There's a big front porch with rocking chairs and a mountain view. So even though it rained the first day, we could still sit outside and enjoy the view.
2. Dinner and breakfast are included in the price of your room. So for less than one night at the beach, we got a room, dinner and breakfast at this place in the mountains. The way the menu works is that you get soup, then a salad, then you pick your meat (roast beef, prime rib, sirloin, NY strip, trout six different ways, country ham or Virginia ham). The side dishes are brought out and served family style. The side dishes change each night, but they included green beans and almonds, veggie jambalaya, macaroni and cheese and others. Then you get your choice of desserts. The dessert change each night, too, but while we were there, they included blueberry pound cake with glaze, peanut butter pie, Tollhouse pie, hot fudge cake, lemon chess pie, cherry pie and others. Breakfast was good, too. Grits, eggs, bacon or sausage, pancakes, French toast, omelets and lots of other good stuff.
3. Because there aren't TVs in the room, people who would normally be propped up in bed watching go to the lobby to socialize and play games. There is a TV in the lobby, but the only time I saw people watching it was during the news. There are four sitting areas with upholstered chairs. There's a round table with chairs for playing games. And there's a long table with eight chairs, also for game-playing. Both times we've been, there has been a partially assembled jigsaw puzzle on the big table. They have games and cards, magazines and local newspapers, and everybody just hangs out. It was really nice because I think we often depend on the TV just for background noise.
4. The grounds are so pretty. The building is made of wood with a stone foundation and stone accents. Many of the sidewalks are just big slabs of stone. And many of them have bright green moss crawling along them. The grounds have tons of trees and flowers.
5. Mine and Jeff's bed had a covered wagon on the headboard. It didn't really do anything for us, but I took a picture of it and showed it to Biscuit, and he was all excited. "Mom, did anything else have a covered wagon on it?" "No. Sorry," I told him.
6. The inn is on the outskirts of town, but the downtown area is close by and filled with fun little shops. And because it hasn't been as hot there as it's been here, their flowers are still in full bloom. They had these beautiful arrangements around town, but the ones that I liked the best were the ones on the bridge. There's a river that runs right through town. Half the shops are on one side, and half are on the other side.
One funny thing about the trip was that eight years ago when Jeff and I went the first time, we sat down in the rocking chairs on the porch. We were there for about 10 minutes, and I said to Jeff, "Okay, let's go do something. I'm ready to go," I said.
"Don't you want to just sit here for a while?" Jeff asked.
"I can't sit still," I said. "I'm ready to go somewhere."
But that trip was pre-Biscuit and pre-kindergarten. On THIS trip, it was all different. I parked my butt on the porch and told Jeff and the other couple that I wasn't budging until it was absolutely necessary! And that's what I did. It was a nice trip, and the inn is definitely on our list of places to visit again.
That Thursday through Sunday was supposed to be my annual girls' weekend away, but one of the girls had a family emergency, and we had to postpone it. Luckily, the people who own the condo we rented were willing to change the dates for us. So we have a prepaid trip just waiting for us to set the dates.
But I had been looking forward to being away from home, and I already had the days off. And one of the other girls felt the same way. So we decided to do a couples' trip. Jeff and the other husband got the days off, and I started looking at hotels at the beach. Ugh! Do you know how expensive it is to get a room at the beach right now?!
I was disappointed, especially since we had the boys get the days off, too.
Then Jeff said, "Does it have to be the beach?"
I immediately thought about a place Jeff and I stayed about eight years ago. It's an old, pretty inn in the mountains. It was built in 1923, and there are no TVs or phones in the rooms. And there's no air conditioning. For Southern people, that's a scary thing to say. And even though it was hotter this trip than it was the last time Jeff and I went, it was still nice with the windows open and ceiling fan running.
The things I like about this place are numerous. Here are just a few:
1. There's a big front porch with rocking chairs and a mountain view. So even though it rained the first day, we could still sit outside and enjoy the view.
2. Dinner and breakfast are included in the price of your room. So for less than one night at the beach, we got a room, dinner and breakfast at this place in the mountains. The way the menu works is that you get soup, then a salad, then you pick your meat (roast beef, prime rib, sirloin, NY strip, trout six different ways, country ham or Virginia ham). The side dishes are brought out and served family style. The side dishes change each night, but they included green beans and almonds, veggie jambalaya, macaroni and cheese and others. Then you get your choice of desserts. The dessert change each night, too, but while we were there, they included blueberry pound cake with glaze, peanut butter pie, Tollhouse pie, hot fudge cake, lemon chess pie, cherry pie and others. Breakfast was good, too. Grits, eggs, bacon or sausage, pancakes, French toast, omelets and lots of other good stuff.
 |
| These are pictures of the dining room from the inn's website. Everything there is very rustic-looking. |
3. Because there aren't TVs in the room, people who would normally be propped up in bed watching go to the lobby to socialize and play games. There is a TV in the lobby, but the only time I saw people watching it was during the news. There are four sitting areas with upholstered chairs. There's a round table with chairs for playing games. And there's a long table with eight chairs, also for game-playing. Both times we've been, there has been a partially assembled jigsaw puzzle on the big table. They have games and cards, magazines and local newspapers, and everybody just hangs out. It was really nice because I think we often depend on the TV just for background noise.
 |
| A picture of the lobby that I grabbed from the inn's website. |
4. The grounds are so pretty. The building is made of wood with a stone foundation and stone accents. Many of the sidewalks are just big slabs of stone. And many of them have bright green moss crawling along them. The grounds have tons of trees and flowers.
5. Mine and Jeff's bed had a covered wagon on the headboard. It didn't really do anything for us, but I took a picture of it and showed it to Biscuit, and he was all excited. "Mom, did anything else have a covered wagon on it?" "No. Sorry," I told him.
6. The inn is on the outskirts of town, but the downtown area is close by and filled with fun little shops. And because it hasn't been as hot there as it's been here, their flowers are still in full bloom. They had these beautiful arrangements around town, but the ones that I liked the best were the ones on the bridge. There's a river that runs right through town. Half the shops are on one side, and half are on the other side.
 |
| Jeff's mom loves bears, so when we saw this bench, Jeff had to get his picture taken. |
One funny thing about the trip was that eight years ago when Jeff and I went the first time, we sat down in the rocking chairs on the porch. We were there for about 10 minutes, and I said to Jeff, "Okay, let's go do something. I'm ready to go," I said.
"Don't you want to just sit here for a while?" Jeff asked.
"I can't sit still," I said. "I'm ready to go somewhere."
But that trip was pre-Biscuit and pre-kindergarten. On THIS trip, it was all different. I parked my butt on the porch and told Jeff and the other couple that I wasn't budging until it was absolutely necessary! And that's what I did. It was a nice trip, and the inn is definitely on our list of places to visit again.
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