Word power

Biscuit is funny about words. He loves to try out new ones, especially if they're big.

And what's really funny is that he often uses new words correctly, but if you ask him to give you the definition, he can't put it into words. He's good at figuring out what words mean by the context in which they're used.

Biscuit was playing with his Legos and realized that one of the characters had two vehicles. And apparently, in whatever universe he was playing, that was a big no-no.

"Mom!" he yelled. And of course I thought something was wrong.

He came into the kitchen, and I asked him what he was yelling about.

"Oh, I'm fine, Mom," he said. "I just made a big realization."

"What's that?" I asked him.

"Well, I was playing with this guy and realized he has two vehicles," Biscuit said.

"And why is that a big deal?" I asked him.

And in that tone he uses when he thinks I should already know the answer, he said, "It's completely redundant!"

"What does redundant mean?" I asked him.

He looked around the room trying to think of how to offer a definition, but he couldn't.

I laughed, and he frowned at me. 

"Did I use it correctly?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "I'm not laughing to make fun of you. I just think it's funny that you can use the word correctly but can't tell me the definition."

Once he realized that I wasn't picking at him, he laughed about it, too.

I just really like how he chooses his words.

When I was sick, I told Biscuit that he needed to keep his distance from me. I didn't want him to get it, too (although my efforts were for naught because he got sick anyway!). 

So he said, "So I can't hug you?"

"No, baby," I said. "I don't want you to get sick."

"And there won't be any snuggle time?" he asked.

Sometimes he crawls into my rocking chair with me to watch TV.

"Nope," I said. "No snuggle time, either."

"Mom," he said. "You don't understand. No hugs and no snuggles is just not a practicality!"

The next day, he started feeling bad and all bets were off!

So Biscuit clearly has quite the vocabulary, but we won't talk about whether he can spell any of his big words!

We need a break!

For a little over a year, it's felt like we've had targets on our backs. It's just been one thing after another.
 
Don't get me wrong, I realize how lucky we are to have each other, family, friends, a house, jobs, food, clothes and other stuff. But I feel like we just need a decent stretch of time where nothing really happens. Or at least nothing bad.
 
You already know some of this stuff, but I think listing it will give you an idea of how overwhelmed we've felt for the past year.
 
Last year from February to September, Biscuit got sick every 18 to 21 days. It always started with a fever. Then the diagnosis varied from tonsilitis to flu (A and B), strep throat to a virus. A couple of times, when we got a doctor other than Biscuit's normal guy, we were told it was nothing we should worry about. And, of course, there was the trip to the ER when his temperature was 106!

We had blood tests done, but ultimately, nobody could ever tell us why it was happening. And then in September, it went away just as mysteriously as it came. And of course we were looking at the calendar constantly, counting down the days until he'd be sick again. And the one or two fevers he's had since then completely freaked out Jeff and me.

So we were dealing that when in June, Jeff's Dad died suddenly and completely unexpectedly. It was crazy, and in some ways, since we live so far away from Jeff's parents, it still seems unreal.

I can't tell you how many times I've been walking around the house, and I think, "I should ask Jim about that next time they're here."

And speaking of the house, I see him all over the place. He built the cabinets in my laundry room. He built the shed out back. He completely redid my kitchen floor. He swapped out a sliding-glass door for French doors. He turned a big blank wall in the kitchen into built-in bookcases (for my WAY too many cookbooks) and a bench that serves as seating for the table. And there are many more things I could list.

Then in September, Jeff got a bad cough. By early October, I guilted him into going to the doctor, and they said he had pneumonia.

The chest x-ray that showed he had pneumonia also showed that he had a bigger-than-a-lemon mass on his thyroid.

He had bloodwork, an ultrasound, a CT scan and more to get all lined up for surgery. And the whole time, we're wondering ... is it cancer?

By the time all the testing was done, the calendar had changed to 2017. Then he had surgery in early February. Thankfully, the pathology report came back as benign. We were so relieved. And he's still recovering, really. They said his stitches would be in for at least two months. They will dissolve on their own, so he won't have to have them taken out.
He had a blood test last week and goes back for a followup next week. He'll have to be on medicine to regulate all the stuff his thyroid would've done - body temperature, metabolism, etc. We're hoping the blood test results will say that his medicine is just right. If not, he'll have to have his medicine adjusted, then three weeks after that, he'll have another blood test, then another followup. This lovely pattern would repeat itself until everything is regulated.

In February, Jeff, Biscuit and I all got sick. Biscuit said he and I had the flu, but he said, "Dad just wasn't sick enough to say he had the flu." I don't know if we actually had the flu or not, but there were cold symptoms, belly problems, head and body aches and more. So whatever it was, I hope it doesn't ever come back!

In early March, Jeff had to go out of town for four days to cover a basketball tournament. And I was reassured (as I had been before during his trips) that I do not want to be a single parent! It's too hard. I like that Jeff and I share the Biscuit duties. And it's just not the same when we're not all three together.

In mid-March, someone who played a prominent role in my childhood died unexpectedly. I hadn't seen him in a while, but he still lived in the community where my parents live. So I had continued to hear stories about him. And of course I saw him when I went home for visits.

I know if goes without saying, but it's really hard to lose people who mean a lot to you.

So I think this catches us up.

Biscuit will have his first baseball game of the season this Saturday. And Jeff and I just booked a weekend trip to the beach in April (no Biscuit allowed!). And Biscuit will spend spring break with my parents, so Jeff and I are planning to go to the movies to see anything rated PG-13 or worse!

We have had so much support from our family and friends as we've gone through the craziness of the past year. We are truly lucky!

Biscuit the poet

Biscuit's class recently did a study on poetry. They learned about all different kinds and even wrote some of their own.

Biscuit got all deep on one of his. It was called an "I Am Poem," and each line started with a prompt — I am, I wonder, I wish, etc. Then they had to end it by repeating the first line.

Here are a few lines from his "I Am Poem."

I am a friend, funny and helpful.
I wonder why God made me me.
I wish the world was in perfect peace.
I smile when my friends and family are happy.
I am a friend, funny and helpful.

His teacher got a kick out of it. She saved it and showed it to us at our most recent parent-teacher conference. She said he was beyond his years, and I told her that even though I had heard the term "old soul," I didn't really know what it meant until my boy came along.

And while I'm talking about the parent-teacher conference, our latest one went very well. The boy is doing well in reading, writing and 'rithmatic. And the teacher said she doesn't have to get onto him too much — only for talking, and we all know where he got that from!

One recent night at dinner, Biscuit was telling us all about the different poems they learned about.

"Mom, did you know that not all poems rhyme?" Biscuit said.

"I actually did know that," I told him. "But I'll tell you a secret ... I really like the ones that rhyme. I think they're more fun."

"Me, too," Biscuit said.

"When I learned about rhyming poems, my teacher gave us a trick," I said. "She told us to start at the beginning of the alphabet to look for rhyming words. Like if I wanted to write a poem about Dad, I would start with A and get 'add.' Then B and get 'bad.'

Biscuit seemed to study on that for a minute, then I said, "I have an idea. I'll say a line, then you add a line that rhymes, then Dad can add another line. Then we'll take turns starting new ones."

So I started, and Biscuit added a rhyming line, then Jeff added one, too.

"Okay, now it's Dad's turn to start," I said.

Jeff had surgery a few weeks ago (more about that in another post), so he has stitches in his neck. So he pretended to think for a minute, then said, "I have stitches."

Then I added (in a wicked voice), "Put there by witches!"

The Biscuit said, "And by bitches!"

Then it got really quiet. 

Jeff and I were both looking at Biscuit, then we looked at each other and just lost it. We laughed so hard! I had tears coming out of my eyes.

"What?" Biscuit said. "What's funny?"

"Dude!" I said. "That's a swear word."

"What?" Biscuit said.

"The word you said is a cuss word," I told him.

"I didn't know, guys," Biscuit said. "I didn't know it was a bad word. And I just did what you said with the alphabet."

And he did. A wouldn't work, so he moved on to B!

"You're not in trouble," I said. "You didn't know you were saying a bad word. But don't say it again okay?"

He looked a little relieved, then he grinned.

"I won't say it again," he said.

But Jeff and I just couldn't quit laughing. Poor little man. He was so embarrassed, and we just could not quit laughing.

So as far as I know now, his knowledge of cuss words is up to three. And there's no telling if or when the others will rear their ugly heads!

Second-grade concert

So I'm not going to write an "okay I'm back" post because every time I do, something else happens to pull me away!

So I'm just going to start like I've been writing all along.

---

The second grade had a concert this evening called "Awesome Animals." Guess what it was about? Yep, awesome animals.

They sang five songs, and some of the kids had speaking parts like in a play. Then Biscuit and a bunch of other kids got to hold up pictures they colored of their animals and say something about them.

Kids brought stuff animals to decorate the stage. They stretched
all the way across the front. They also made paper masks in
art class representing their animals. Can you see the plaid
tiger on the left? Yeah, that's Biscuit's. Our boy is
really smart, but he's not so good with the art.

Biscuit somehow or another got the letter T, which meant he got to talk about tigers, his favorite animal. And he had a hard time trying to decide which fact he wanted to share with the audience.

He finally decided that since everybody knows that tigers eat meat and are orange, black and white, he would talk about what tigers do when they get frightened or angry.

In case it wasn't loud enough, Biscuit said that when tigers are angry or frightened, they growl. And just in case people didn't see the picture he was holding or the mask he was wearing, he said, "By the way, my animal is a tiger." He got a good laugh from the audience.

Then they sang another song about how they couldn't imagine a world without these animals.

It was a cute program. My only complaint was that Biscuit was behind two taller girls, and we couldn't see him very well. Even so, it didn't take him long to find us. And once he did, he made sure to keep an eye on us.

Now, it's time for a game. Can you spot Biscuit in these two pictures? I told him his animal had good camouflage!

Copycat

We went out for dinner one night at a restaurant that's at the back of a courtyard. There was a light drizzle falling, when Jeff saw a lamp post, he said it made him think of "Singin' in the Rain."

So he struck a pose similar to Gene Kelly in the movie.

Then, little copycat ran over and struck his own pose. "I want to do it," he said. "Take my picture, too."

He has never seen the movie, but he just had to do what dad did.

A tasty treat

I'm probably going to be skipping all over the place until I get caught up with stuff that happened in the second half of 2016.

My family comes here every year to celebrate Thanksgiving. My parents come up the day before, but since my brother and sister-in-law both have to work that Friday, we have our big meal Saturday afternoon.

We needed to eat something on Thanksgiving Day, of course, so I asked Mama what she wanted me to cook.

"Are there restaurants around here that are open on Thanksgiving Day?" she asked.

I was surprised, but happy to tell her that yes, there were restaurants open.

I picked a home-cooking restaurant that I knew they would love. My Daddy is very much a meat-and-potatoes man. So I figured a meat-and-three place would be right up his alley.

We got there, and the place was packed! And there were only a couple of servers. Apparently, the owner/manager didn't think they would have that many customers. He got fooled for sure!

Our server came by and said he would be with us as soon as he could. We all told him to take his time because we weren't in a hurry. That seemed to put him at ease, which of course meant he was going to take good care of us.

He took our drink orders, and when he came back to get our food orders, I told Biscuit to go ahead and order what he wanted.

"Um, could I please have a cheeseburger, plain, and some fries?" Biscuit asked.

"I gotcha big man," the server said. "I like your independence - ordering your own food like that."

The server told us that he really enjoyed serving kids who could speak for themselves. But he said that sometimes the parents are the problem.

"There was one lady who started ordering for her son, but he was trying to tell her that what she was ordering wasn't what he wanted," the server said. "So the kid kept saying what he wanted. And what was funny was that what the kid was saying he wanted was actually more nutritious than what the mom was ordering from him!"

Everybody else ordered, and since there were so many people still there, it took them a while to bring our food out.

Jeff ordered the Thanksgiving special - turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce, etc. and it included a dessert, too.

So at the end of the meal, the server brought Jeff a piece of pecan pie. He slid the saucer toward Jeff, and Jeff said, "I actually can't have pecan pie."

The server must have assumed it was because of an allergy because he jerked that saucer away from Jeff so fast that he almost slung the pie into the floor. Jeff told him it was because of diverticulitis, and the server gave him a choice of some other desserts to choose from.

Then the server looked over at Biscuit.

"Hey, big man," he said, and Biscuit looked up and grinned, "do you like chocolate cake?"

Biscuit had some food in his mouth, so he just nodded.

When the server came back, he gave Jeff a piece of cheesecake and Biscuit a hunk of chocolate bundt cake with a thick chocolate icing.

Biscuit looked at the cake then looked at all of us with big eyes.

"Guys," Biscuit said, "Since that man was nice enough to give me free cake, I'm going to be very polite when I eat this."

He picked up his knife and fork and went to town on that hunk of chocolate. In a very polite way, of course.

Summer camp

I signed Biscuit up for two weeks of summer camp last week. It's January! And I'm already having to plan his summer activities.

The city we live in isn't small, so if you want to get the good summer camps, you have to sign up early. But January?!

After his kindergarten year, he went to summer camp at the YMCA near our house. It was okay, but he didn't seem excited about going back.

At the end of the summer, he said, "Guys, do you think I could go to a different summer camp next year?"

"Why? I thought you liked camp this year," I said.

"I did," Biscuit said, "but I didn't learn a thing!"

So last year, we swapped it up.

I broke his weeks up so he wouldn't get bored. He spent two weeks at my parents' house (one in June and one in August). He spent four weeks at a camp that's held at a local park. They got to swim every day, and we added on a golf lesson for once a week. Then I got him two weeks of camp at the local children's museum (one called Spy Camp, and the other based on a book of chapter books he's been reading).

The two weeks I've already booked at the children's museum. He'll be doing Harry Potter camp and Lego Robotics camp. He seems really excited.

And we're planning to send him back to the camp at the park, too. He said he definitely wants to take more golf lessons. And of course, he'll be spending two weeks with my parents again, too.

I just can't get over the fact that his summer is pretty much planned out already!

And just as a side note ...

The park camp he went to has their pick-up and drop-off areas marked, and as I was dropping Biscuit off one morning, he saw this sign near the door.

Biscuit said, "Mom! I didn't know I was going to Camp Drop Off!"

"Dude!" I said. "That sounds just as corny as something Grandpa would've said."

And Biscuit laughed and laughed at himself.

"You know what?" I asked him. "Your Grandpa may have left this earth, but his sense of humor flew straight into you."

It's about time

Biscuit is learning how to read an analog clock at school. A lot of kids nowadays can only read digital clocks, so I'm glad they're learning it.

When Biscuit's aunt and uncle asked for a Christmas gift idea, I suggested an analog wristwatch. They got him a cute little watch with a velcro band, so he can put it on all by himself.

He wears it to school every day, except the days he has P.E. He says he's afraid of getting it messed up when they do their exercises and play their games.

He still has to count the numbers, so when Jeff asked him what time it was, he said he'd have to think about it.

So I said, "What does it look like when you're thinking?"

And he struck this pose.

He did answer Jeff, but he had to wait a couple of minutes.

"Dad, the big hand is between 3 and 4, and we haven't learned the in between minutes yet," Biscuit said. So he waited until the big hand got to the 4, then said, "Okay, now it's 7:20."

Out of the mouth of my babe

A few things Biscuit has said recently: 


Be yourself: Biscuit doesn't like milk on his cereal. He actually doesn't eat cereal that often, but when he does, he just wants it in a bowl with a spoon. And he drinks milk with it.

Jeff and I were teasing him about it the other morning.

"That's just weird," I said. "How can you eat cereal without milk?"

"I HAVE milk, Mom," Biscuit said. "It's just not on top of my cereal."

"Dude!" Jeff said. "It's crazy to eat cereal without milk."

This continued for a few minutes, and Biscuit was giving it as good as he was getting it.

About 5 minutes later, Biscuit got a serious look on his face and said, "Guys, I know we were playing earlier, but do you know that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. says you should never judge people by things. You know, like the color of your skin. Or the things you like and don't like. You know, like how I don't like milk on my cereal."

Really? I love that he knows about MLK, but I don't think cereal was quite what he was preaching about.


Lucky break: Our boy is a picky eater. He's willing to try things without any fuss, but so far there have only been a very few things that he tries and likes.

I put a big hunk of pork in the crockpot this afternoon for dinner tonight, and Biscuit came in and asked, "What kind of meat is that?" And y'all, I considered lying just to make sure he'd eat it!

"It's pork, and you've had it before and liked it," Jeff told him.

We got to the table, and I said, "Shoot! I forgot to make the green beans."

Biscuit grinned real big, wiped his hand across his forehead and said, "Whew!"

Happy retirement!

A work friend of mine retired today. And I'm pretty sad about it. It's always hard to see people leave, whether they retire or move on to other positions, but it's especially hard when it's someone you enjoy spending time with.

When I would get fed up with whatever I was working on, I would walk down to her office, and we'd talk about movies or TV or books or more often than not, Biscuit.

When Biscuit did something that I thought was cool or fun or smart, I'd go share it with her. I would usually start my story with, "I know I can brag to you about my boy without you thinking I'm being one of those moms ..." She doesn't have any grandkids of her own, so I told her she could claim Biscuit as hers. And she let me brag as much as I wanted.

And she reads this blog. And she's already told me that I have to get on the stick and write more often, especially now that she's retired.

Her job was as our librarian. She did research and made sure our stories and photos were archived for future use (and a bunch of other things, too). So Biscuit calls her "The Library Girl."

So when I picked him up from school today, he asked how I was doing, and I told him I was a little sad because my friend was leaving. I called her by name, and Biscuit said, "You're talking about The Library Girl, right?"

"Yes," I told him. "But she's going to come have lunch with me sometimes, so I'll still see her."

"Will I ever see her again?" he asked.

"We'll make sure that you do," I told him.

So if you're reading this, you're definitely on the hook for lunch with me and a date with Biscuit. Happy retirement!

New Year's resolutions

I made three New Year's resolutions.

1. Cook more. I enjoy cooking, and I enjoy feeding my family. The problem has been a lack of planning on my part - making sure I have the groceries and time to put a meal together.

2. Use my cool kitchen gadgets and appliances more often. I love gadgets and appliances that help make cooking easier or more fun. And I have plenty of them. But again, it's just a matter of planning.

3. Write more blog posts. No explanation needed.

I've done well with two of these. Sunday evening, I made honey chicken in my slow cooker, a loaf of bread in my breadmaker and arborio rice in my rice cooker. So which resolution do you think has gotten the short end of the stick?!

Biscuit went back to school Jan. 4 after two weeks of winter break. Then that weekend, it snowed, and he was out of school Monday through Wednesday of that next week. Then Monday of this week was a holiday, so since the beginning of the new year, he's been to school a total of 7 days.

Thankfully, Jeff and I can both work from home when we need to. We usually try to take turns. And Monday, Biscuit went to work with us. We take the portable DVD player and his tablet. When he gets bored, he walks around and visits with people.

One lady at work said, "I mean this in the most complimentary way possible, but do you know how some work places have therapy dogs ..."

I started laughing because I realized that she was calling my kid a therapy dog!

"Don't laugh," she said. "He walks around and talks to everybody, and when he walks away from their desk, they always have a smile on their face." 

A couple of other people agreed. And as weird as it sounds, that makes me proud of my boy.

There are a couple of people in our office who don't like kids, and couple who don't like much of anything! But they like our boy. I think it's because talking to him is like having a conversation with a 58-year-old! I swear, that boy has been around one time before.

Biscuit came home Tuesday with homework, and it was a real struggle to get everything done. We had gotten used to being on a loose schedule, so this week, we're trying to find our rhythm again.

So far, so good.

Santa through the years

I was looking back at pictures of Biscuit with Santa, and it's hard to believe that this year was his 7th visit with the Big Man. 

Remember in 2014 when we had to quickly explain to Biscuit that there are multiple "Santa's helpers" in different locations? Biscuit had seen the same Santa for the first six years, but he was having some health problems and had to cut short his Santa time. This year, he didn't come back, so there was a different Santa. Biscuit didn't say anything about it, so I didn't, either. He had a red suit and a beard, and that was close enough!

Here's Biscuit and Santa from 2009-16.

Out of the mouth of my babe

A few things Biscuit has said recently:

Southern boy: We made two trips to New York this summer, and at every restaurant, I had to remind Biscuit, "They don't have sweet tea."

I don't make tea at home much anymore (mainly because Biscuit and I both like it too much). But when we go to restaurants, that's what both of us usually drink.

So poor Biscuit would make a disappointed face and say, "Aw, no sweet tea" every single time.

So after two trips north to be with Jeff's family, it was time for us to head to the nearby mountains to spend a long weekend with my family.

We started talking about what we'd get for lunch on the way, and Biscuit said, "Guys, I just have one question."

Jeff and I both said, "What?" at the same time.

"Which direction are we driving?" Biscuit asked.

"West, why?" Jeff asked.

"Do they have sweet tea in the west?" Biscuit asked.

"As far west as we're going, they do indeed have sweet tea," I told him.

And he was happy.

It's all about perspective: When we were at Jeff's parents' house this summer, one of his cousins came over for a visit. Biscuit was getting ready for the day and came running into the living room to ask me if I could help him pick out some clothes.

When we got to the bedroom, he said, "Mom, who is that guy in there?"

"That's one of your cousins," I said.

"Mom ... really," Biscuit said and rolled his eyes.

"What?" I said. "He is."

"Mom! He a man ... and he has a beard," Biscuit said.

Then I understood. Biscuit's first cousins range in age from 12-18, so it's never occurred to him that he could have a grown-up cousin.

So he got a little lesson in family ... and still couldn't believe that a grown man was his cousin!

Feeling good: Jeff was helping Biscuit get ready for bed when Biscuit said, "Hey Dad, know what the best thing about me today was? 

"What?" Jeff said.

"I was just SO energestic," Biscuit said.

I wish he would share some of his energestic-ism with me!

Trying something new

Biscuit was invited to a birthday party at a local ice skating rink. I didn't tell him where the party was until we were on the way this afternoon.

Why, you ask? This was his first time to go ice skating, and he worries and gets nervous about doing things for the first time. He worries about not being good at whatever he's going to try to do. I'm scared he has control-freak tendencies with a side of perfectionism. And that would be my fault. Those traits come straight from me.

So I gave him a pep talk and said, "It doesn't matter if you're good at this or not. It matters that you try it and just do your best."

When I was a kid, we used to go ice skating all the time. There was a mall about an hour away from us that had a big ice rink in the middle. The rink was in what I guess you could say was the basement. You had to walk down from the first floor to get there. There were two stories of stores above it. When you were on the ice, you could look up to the floors above. And people could watch you skate from up there, too.

My parents and their friends would drop me, my brother and our friend at the rink and go shopping in the mall. We would skate the whole evening, non-stop. We would be the last people to leave. And after today, I have no idea where we got the energy!

I had considered skating today, for old times sake, but I had pretty much talked myself out of it. Then, my boy stepped onto the ice. He was terrified! He actually got tears in his eyes.

Jeff said, "Dude. The worst thing that will happen is that you'll fall."

"Yeah, Dad," Biscuit said, "but I'm afraid that if I fall, I'll break through the ice into the water."

This child has seen too many movies.

"You can't fall through," Jeff explained. "There isn't a pond or any other kind of water underneath. The ice is laid out over concrete."

But Biscuit wasn't buying it.

So I went and got some skates.

I counted it up, and it's been about 14 years since I ice skated. And I was truly shocked to find out that when I stepped out there today, it felt like I had never been skating in my life! I couldn't get going. And I really did think it would be exactly the same as it used to be. I mean, I can't remember the last time I rode a bike, but I know I could get on one right now and ride without falling off.

Anyway, I realized I wasn't going to be a whole lot of good to Biscuit, so we made our way down to the far end of the rink where they were giving the party guests a quick lesson.

Biscuit got the first couple of things down. Hold your arms out in front. Bend your knees a little bit. Keep your skates about shoulder-width apart. If you feel yourself starting to lose your balance, put your hands on your knees.

But Biscuit was moving so much slower than the rest of the class, he got frustrated and was almost in tears. I felt so bad for him. I helped him get to the door where you can get off the ice, and we took a break.

But then, the birthday boy's mom went and got a seal that looked like a little kid ride-on toy. Biscuit sat down, and I skated behind him. It's amazing how just having that little bit of support helped me find my balance.

Then Biscuit decided to try pushing it by himself. And he did a good job.

But his favorite part was when the birthday boy pushed him. That little seal changed his whole afternoon!

Of course, that seal didn't make it warm out there. Biscuit was a ball of snuggle, trying to get warm after he came off the ice.

Jeff and I told Biscuit as we were leaving that we were proud of him for trying something new. We reminded him that you're rarely good at things the first time you try them. But going for it and having fun is what it's all about.

Thanksgiving

Jeff has been battling pneumonia since early November, and I was wondering if he was going to feel up to having extra people in our house.

My parents come up the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and stay through the weekend. Mama and I do some shopping. Daddy finds something to do around the house. And Biscuit is just overwhelmed with the attention he gets!

On the Saturday after Thanksgiving, my brother and his family come up, and we do our big Thanksgiving meal at lunchtime. So Thursday isn't really like a holiday for us.

Plus this year, Jeff was battling pneumonia, and Biscuit and I both had colds. I actually called Mama and gave them the option not to come, just in case we were contagious. They said they would risk it, and I was glad.

When we got up Thursday morning, Mama asked, "Are there any restaurants open today?"

I told her there were, and she suggested we go out for lunch. It felt a little weird going out on Thanksgiving, but the way I was feeling that morning, I was in no shape to cook.

The restaurant I picked is a home-cooking restaurant that is open every day of the year. So they had their regular menu, plus a few Thanksgiving specials. Daddy got chicken tenders with a side salad and mac and cheese. Mama got country-style steak, mac and cheese and lima beans. Biscuit got a cheeseburger and fries. I got chicken souvlaki, mac and cheese and fried okra (I joked about my meal being Mediterranean meets the South.). Jeff was the only one who got a Thanksgiving meal. He had turkey-dressing-cranberry sauce meal.

The restaurant was packed, and our server (Steven) apologized two or three times about making us wait. Apparently, the owner didn't expect so many people, so he only had a couple of servers for the whole restaurant.

We told him we weren't in a hurry and that he could just get to us as soon as he could. And I swear, I think us saying that made him hurry even more!

Steven took all our drink orders, and Biscuit asked for sweet tea with no lemon. He said "please" and "thank you," and apparently, that was a big deal to our server. 

"Can I please have sweet tea with no lemon?" Biscuit asked. "Thank you."

To which Steven replied, "I gotcha, big man." Then he winked at Biscuit.

When he came back to get the food orders, Biscuit ordered his food. And again, the server made a big fuss.

Now don't get me wrong, I love when people make a fuss over my boy. But restaurant servers mostly seem surprised when he acts like a normal person - behaving, ordering his own food, not making a mess, etc. But what that says to me is that there are a whole lot of wild children who don't know how to behave in public!

About halfway through the meal, the server walked back by to check on us.

"How's the burger, big man?" Steven asked Biscuit.

Biscuit had a mouthful of said burger, so he just smiled and nodded.

"You like chocolate cake, big man?" the server asked Biscuit.

And Biscuit nodded again.

So on his next trip by our table, Steven dropped off a big hunk of chocolate cake. Biscuit's eyes lit right up!

When Biscuit finished his food, he slid the cake over in front of him.

"I think I need to do this the proper way," Biscuit said and grabbed a knife in one hand and a fork in the other. He proceeded to eat his cake with the knife and fork.

He did a good job. He didn't drop a crumb.
Of course, that could be because it tasted so good!

When we got home that evening, we took part in another tradition and watched a cartoon special.

Sick or not, it was nice to hang out together. And it was especially nice to see Biscuit snuggled up with Mama and Daddy on the couch with two or three blankets covering the three of them.

Piano update

I had a request to post an updated Biscuit-playing-piano video. He can be quite a perfectionist about it, so I have to video him during practice, when he doesn't know I'm videoing him. So don't tell him I posted this. He'll be mad I posted a practice video with mistakes!

Beach time

Like I said the other day, I felt pretty guilty about getting to enjoy the sand, ocean and sunshine while poor Jeff was stuck in the room. But I did it all for Biscuit ... yeah, let's go with that.

It was breezy but not cold. We were wearing sweat suits and were plenty warm enough. Especially once we started running from waves and walking along the sand.

The first morning, Biscuit and I went out and built sand castles. We had a whole village of them. We made up all kinds of stories for the people who lived in our sand neighborhood.

We went back out that afternoon, and the tide had made it up far enough to wash away about half of our village. So we walked and picked up shells and both ended up getting our feet wet.

The second morning, I warned Biscuit ahead of time.

"I'm taking my camera out this morning," I said to Biscuit, "so get ready."

Biscuit just grinned. He knows the drill. I take a gazillion pictures, then I put my camera in a plastic bag to protect it from the sand, then we play some more!

Here are some pictures of Biscuit playing at the beach:

Barefoot in November!

He thinks he can command that wave to stay right where it is.

Too bad this isn't video because he let out some serious squeals.

If there is dirt or rocks or shells, they MUST be thrown.

We cheat by using sand castle molds. There's still skill involved,
though. Biscuit packs the damp sand down as tight as he can.

Then he positions it just where he wants it.

Then he reveals his creation. This was a corner for his soon-to-be castle.

Biscuit has had this little truck on every beach trip he's been on.

He walks like he owns the place!

Our castle ruins.

My foot and Biscuit's foot side by side.

By the time we went in, Biscuit was wet up to his knees.

It's too late to run now!

It's amazing how big the wave looks (above), then just
before it gets to Biscuit, it fizzles to much of nothing (below).

Our castles are completely gone.

Biscuit usually smiles with his mouth closed because he feels weird about a smile with teeth
missing. But something I said tickled him, and I just happened to have the camera ready.