Sick Day

The children are sick. Not take-them-to-the-doctor sick, just a summer cold. (Isn’t it funny that we–or at least I–feel the need to specify that it’s a summer cold, as though summer colds were in any way distinguished from regular colds? BUT IT’S JULY! And it’s hot out, see? So a cold is funny!)

I should have known something was up when Grace was super-cranky for like three days straight, but it wasn’t until Tuesday afternoon that I figured it out. She’d finally gotten down off my lap, after a couple hours of climbing on me and yelling. I thought she’d gone downstairs, and after a few minutes I got up to check. That’s when I found her at the top of the stairs:


Actually, this picture? Is from the second time I found her asleep at the top of the stairs. No joke, it happened twice. After the second time, I put her in bed. She slept until 9:00, played for an hour, and then asked to go back to bed.

Yesterday we pretty much watched TV all day. Grace took a nap in the afternoon and I fell asleep putting her in bed, which makes me think I might be coming down with something too.

Sam is not visibly sick unless you know him very well, which I am pretty sure I do. I gave him my Nintendo 3DS and he played Mario until the batteries ran out. I considered taking it away a couple of times because he was so intensely frustrated, but every time he figured it out, and who am I to take that sense of accomplishment away from him? He also turned bright red (dehydration, Will picked up Gatorade for him) and willingly drank children’s ibuprofen, which he has always found to be utterly revolting (it is). Last night he refused to go to bed unless he could sleep in the big bed with Mama and Daddy and Kiki (his nickname for Grace) and Sammy.

And so it was that I went to bed at 8:30 last night, on the bottom bunk. I got into my own bed at some point (not difficult) and then Grace nursed all. night. long. It’s been a long time since I’ve been a human buffet all night and OH BOY I AM SO TIRED NOW. I got up with her around 5:00 and her diaper was dry–yikes. I mean, sure, she is nearly potty trained, but she should not have been dry after drinking all night. And did I mention that I’m a little dried out? OMG.

If Will had more sick time accrued I would ask him to stay home so I could take a nap, but alas.

I was not prepared for this particular challenge.

I think I’m pretty good at being Sam’s mom. He is an easy-going, fun kid, and we get along really well most of the time.

He has…ideas about things, though. And once he gets one of these ideas in his head, good luck changing his mind. Examples include: this food he’s never tasted is “bleh;” it is his turn to choose a show in Netflix; Netflix is called Roku; et cetera, et cetera.

Today we were in the car and there was a police cruiser in the lane next to us. “Mama! A policeman! That’s a bad guy.”


I know where he got this idea. He is currently OBSESSED with The Pirates of Penzance, and he believes implicitly that the pirates are the good guys. Since the constables are trying to catch the pirates, clearly policemen are bad guys.

Did I mention that half of Will’s family is current or past law enforcement? Yeah.

I think I handled it okay, but I kind of doubt I made any real impression on his opinion. Ack.

Stop this thing, I want to get off.

What I was doing 6 years ago today:


I’m not sure if I was between or in mid-contraction there, but either way I was getting ready to evict Sam from my body!


Six years ago I was about to become a mother, and Will a father. Sam will be six years old tomorrow.

I can’t really believe it.

This morning we took him to buy the thing he’s asked for almost every day for the last few months: a red bike.


He is now the proud owner of a Schwinn with 20 inch wheels. The folks at the bike shop took off the pedals for us so that he can learn to balance on a bigger bike before learning to pedal (he had a Skuut balance bike before, which he outgrew a while ago–Grace is almost big enough for it now).

SIX. It’s going way too fast for my liking.

I’m Buzz Lightyear.

Sam likes to put his booster seat in the center of the backseat. He can’t buckle himself in at all when it’s there, and I have a great deal of difficulty. When I succeed (possibly following some cursing), Sam likes to pat me on the back (literally!) and say, “You did it, Mama! You win!”

So one time I replied, “I’m Buzz Lightyear, I always win!” (This was a deliberate misquote from the second movie, when the other Buzz says “I’m Buzz Lightyear, I’m always sure.”)

The other day I buckled him in and he whispered, “You’re Buzz Lightyear.”

I love my kid so much.

The other day we were at the grocery store and Sam asked the cashier her name. When she told him (Maya), he said his name is Drew. He is calling himself Drew because apparently two names weren’t enough. Wait, I mean, because Will gave in and cut Sam’s hair like Drew who Bics his head. He used the #2 attachment, so it’s not as bad as it could be, but I WANT MY SAMMY BACK.


This just happened:

Grace: More chock-it bunna, Mom?

Me: I’m sorry, Gracie, it’s all gone. You ate it up.

Grace makes a sad face.

Sam: I want Sam’s chock-lit Kiki.

Me and Will: ???

Sam: Kiki chock-lit mine.

Yup. He was saying he wanted Grace (“Kiki”) to have the rest of his. And then I cried. (And Will cried, because he just finished cleaning Grace up from eating her bunny.)

He is really the best big brother ever.

Now that I know I can cut hair…


I cut her bangs to just above her eyebrows, but she keeps pushing them off her forehead so they look shorter. I might cut them thicker–gonna give it a few days and see how they behave.

Hopefully this will help to keep her hair out of her mouth/food/everything. She’s on a bath strike and I’m lucky if I get her clean once a week right now, which would be plenty if 1) her hair wasn’t always sticky, and 2) her hair didn’t tangle so badly (I subscribe to the Curly Girl belief that curly hair should not be brushed, just combed when wet). I’m hoping the bags will help with both problems. Also last night I braided her hair and that made a huge difference, since it tends to get matted while she’s asleep and it can’t tangle if it’s braided.

After I cut Grace’s hair, Sam asked for another haircut. It’s getting a little shaggy so I told him we could do it over the weekend. Then he told me he wants “no hair, like Drew.” Drew who Bics his head. Um…

What’s in a name?

A few weeks ago, Sam and I had a conversation in the car about names. In the course of this conversation, I blew his mind by telling him that yes, Daddy’s name is Will, but Sam’s name is also Will. He just kept repeating, “Sam Will Kwine? ME?”

The other night Will was out and Grace was in bed, so Sam and I watched disc 1 of Fellowship of the Ring. When Sean Astin first showed up, I pointed out that Sam and Samwise have the same name. Sam’s reaction? “Oh no. I not Sam. I Will.”

Since then, he has sporadically remembered and asked to be called Will. We are complying, and I only feel a little bad about (sort of) having a junior after all.

Here’s the funny thing: because Will is called both Will and Daddy, Sam is now called both Sam and Will. I think he thinks Will is a bonus name they both get to use. So funny!

Antidote to Monday


I don’t crochet much, but when my friend Leah posted her (free!) Sea Star pattern, I had to make one. My friend Sean points out that it looks like a Glaive. AWESOME.



I’ve been making a lot of good food lately. The first picture is a spring pasta I made with CSA and pantry ingredients. I winged it, but I wrote down the recipe. You can get it on Flickr. The second picture is my favorite sweet thing (I mean, other than ice cream with Joe-Joes cookies crumbled on top): Greek yogurt, oranges, cinnamon, and maple syrup. It’s like a good-for-you creamsicle.


We converted Sam’s car seat to a booster (the kind with a back) and it sucked. The headrest isn’t removable and was forcing him to hunch his shoulders forward. Up to 100 pounds, my ass. So I took him shopping and he picked one with rockets and monsters on it. WHY IS HE SO GROWN UP?

ws9009 ws9010

Sleeping boys. All better.

This happened.

So, Sam asked me to cut his hair. Actually, he’s been asking me for over a month. I worked up the nerve to do it on Sunday.


Immediately After:

The Next Day:

Sniff, sniff. My little boy is all grown up.