Tuesday, September 29


Milo's homework instructed him to draw three bears: one large bear, one medium bear, and one small bear. He read the instructions, then asked me, "Does 'B-E-A-R' spell 'bear,' or 'beer'? I'm just not sure which one that spells."

I said that it spelled "bear" and that it I didn't think his kindergarten teacher would ask him to draw pictures of beer because it's a grown-up thing. I kind of wish he hadn't asked me and just assumed it was "beer." What I wouldn't have given to be a fly on the wall as his teacher saw those drawings.

Monday, September 28

Super Eclipse

Last night we kept the kids up late to watch the lunar eclipse. But not just any lunar eclipse. This was a Super Moon Eclipse Of Wonder, meaning the moon was as close to earth as it ever gets. I think I read on Twitter that it only happens every 18 years, maybe? And the eclipse was happening from around 8:15 - 10:00, with the peak in the 9:30 range, so it wasn't obscenely late.

Of course, I was fascinated and could have stayed out all night watching the moon, but the kids were BORED. And TIRED. Milo kept whining and restlessly wiggling around. Olive sat on my lap and could barely hold her head up. Neither seemed to care much about the moon. But hey, we did our parent-y duty and showed them this awesome bit of science.

One of the highlights was seeing a shooting star right next to the moon (in our line of vision; I know it wasn't technically right next to the moon) as the eclipse was nearly full. So cool. Neither kids saw it, obviously. Another highlight was watching the whole thing at Stan and Marilyn's house. They have bats living nearby, which means hardly any mosquitoes. Plus, Marilyn made us decaf coffee with Bailey's, and that's a win in my book any day.

Tuesday, September 15

Sad stuff

Well. Today did not go the way I expected it to. But I suppose nothing ever does, does it? Milo's in kindergarten, and Olive had preschool today, so I planned to spend my free morning sipping coffee, maybe do some gardening (ok, ok, I was going to dump out some dead plants from the pots. "Gardening" might be pushing it.), maybe read my book, maybe go for a walk. Really intense stuff, right? Instead, I got a text from my MIL. She said that her dad had contracted pneumonia, and would probably only live another day or two (he was already on hospice), and would Andrew and I be able to help her move out his furniture if he passed?

Of course, I said. And can I do anything for you now, bring you coffee or something? She and Angie, her stepmother, both accepted my offer of Starbucks, so I headed out for lattes and over to the nursing home. I had only been there a few minutes when he took his last breath. Loved ones of mine have passed away before, but I've never been there to see it. I wasn't even particularly close to John, but it's been a shock to my system to witness the death. I hope I was a comfort to Sarah and Angie, and not in the way. I'm sure they didn't expect me to be there for those last moments, either, and I felt like a bit of an outsider.

We had told the kids a couple weeks ago that John was sick, and that Nana was feeling sad about it. So today I had to explain to them that Nana's dad had died. And then spend forever discussing death, getting old, burials, cremation, and how we miss people when they die. I held it together until about the third hour of these talks, when I was trying to explain what cremation was to a five year old. Then I just sort of gave up, told them to please play outside because Mommy wasn't feeling too good and needed to lie down.

Then Daddy got home, I drank some wine, and he took the kids to the playground. My thoughts tonight are with Angie, Sarah, and the rest of the family. I wish there was more I could do than bring pumpkin spice lattes. Rest in peace, John.

Friday, September 11

So Proud

Last night Milo had his first tumbling class. It's at the same studio that Olive goes to for her ballet/tumbling combo class, but his is an all-boys class. I was not at all convinced that he would like it or really wanted to be there. I thought he just asked to take tumbling because he wanted to do SOMETHING, and maybe soccer wasn't his favorite.

But after several requests and the start of the 2015-2016 session looming, I signed him up. So glad I did. He loved it. He tried everything, even when things didn't immediately come easy. Somersaults, bear walking, feet-together jumping, stretching. He listened and followed instructions. He talked nicely to the teacher and the other boys. And as I watched him, I saw his little smile, just for him. His I'm-so-proud-of-me smile. His yes-I-can-do-it smile. And I know he was proud of himself. And I know I was proud of him, too.

(Yeah, yeah, I know, it's been over a year since I blogged. Let's not make a big deal about it, eh? I know it is impossible to catch up on the stuff I missed (like Olive's entire life, basically) but since I already can't remember half the things that took place in the last year, I figured there's no time like the present to start this thing up again.)

Friday, March 21

Glad that didn't happen the first time

I had my second eye vision-correction surgery today. Aaaannd...it was worse than the first time. I asked for more drugs, but it still didn't do much for me. When they taped my head down, it was at a really weird angle and it was making me freak out. So I asked them to fix it, and they did, but I was still a little frantic from then on. Then when he said my vision was going to fade out, it did--but only really briefly. This time I could kinda see everything happening. I saw the doctor's hand coming toward my face holding an instrument, and saw the lens slide across my eye, and it was all too clear and way too disconcerting. When it was over, I was crying. Might have been crying during the whole thing, but I'm really not sure. It was just sort of awful.

*Warning: there are some squeamish parts coming up.*

I went home and got a little rest, but all too soon it was time to go back for my follow-up check. As soon as we walked out the door to get in the car, I started feeling really sick. Very nauseous and hot. I couldn't get enough air. I was pretty sure I was going to throw up, but I really didn't want to do that because they had told me before that vomiting was bad right after surgery because of the pressure it puts on your eye. I tried very hard to stay calm.

We got there, I felt extremely shaky and sick for the five or so minutes we were in the waiting room. I made Andrew go back with me to the exam room. They did a pressure check, and within a minute the surgeon was there in the room, poking me in the eye with a sharp thingy. Basically, fluid was building up in my eye, the pressure was way too high, and it was making me sick. Must get fluid out and pressure down.

Let me just say, the eye poking was not fun. They had given me a numbing drop, but it did not seem very effective. So I tried not to throw up while also trying not to freak out about the sharp thing poking my eyeball. The sharp thing turned out not to be enough, so the doc actually hustled me upstairs to shoot a little laser in my eye to relieve the pressure. That also was not fun. I think in the end he told the nurse it took six laser holes, or something.

(Apparently they normally give people some pills to keep the pressure down, but I am allergic to those pills. Fantastic.)

My eye was clearly leaking fluid from someplace that wasn't my tear duct and it was hard to keep it open. But I was feeling less nauseous. The doctor kept asking if I felt better, because the fluid release should make me instantly feel less sick. And I kept saying no, not really, because I am freaking out here and still feeling vaguely sick and now my eye hurts like crazy. But eventually I calmed down a bit.

I got the all-clear to go home and didn't really feel a ton better until after dinner. Milo's birthday dinner, because oh hey, did you remember that it is my oldest child's birthday? More on that later. It is now time for me to go to bed.