Monday's child has blood on face, part 2

Historically, any time there has been a Major Blog Lapse it has been for Reasons Technological. Let's just blame it on that and not my General Malaise and Inability to Get Things Accomplished in a Timely Manner.

I have a computer now that will do what the ipad simply refused to do, which is let me post pictures in blogger. So the previous post will now show you the snake in all its glory, AND I can show you this treasure, taken this very night:

Hudson has had a wiggly snaggle tooth on the top for at least 3 weeks now. Every few days, the husband would give it a wiggle and deem it "not quite ready." However, we needed to exercise some caution because the last tooth that was wiggly got SWALLOWED. Hudson was eating some naan with hummus for lunch one day and he said, "Mommy. My hummus got crunchy for a minute, and now my tooth is just gone." (it is okay if this makes you feel queasy. Me too.) Anyway, the Daddy had to draft an elaborate legal document Explaining Things to the Tooth Fairy. The Tooth Fairy responded (imprudently, in hindsight) that she could let the swallowed tooth slide JUST THIS ONE TIME. Which is why, I suppose, Hudson insisted tonight that the Daddy yank the tooth, even though it clearly was not quite ready to leave its spot. Which reminds me that the Tooth Fairy needs to go rustle up a dollar before she goes to bed.

I woke up to what can only be deemed a minor Resurrection Miracle yesterday morning. I made some hot cross buns (which were actually just some Bisquick with raisins thrown in and some icing on top because I overslept and didn't have time for yeast etc.) and this put everyone in a great mood. Harper was feeling so charitable that not only did she help Helena get dressed while I took a shower, but for the first time EVER in the five years since Helena has been alive, she condescended to MATCHING DRESSES. Behold:

 It was all Helena had dreamed it might be, and more. At this point in the day, it is clear that Harper's magnanimity has reached its peak. Incidentally, The B's gave us these lovely dresses several years ago and I noticed Helena's is a size 24 months and Harper's is a size 5T. It has been a LONG time coming.

And here we are, smiling about Jesus setting the world free. You might also notice that we are standing in a little patch of bluebonnets, which are, of course, the state flower of Texas. So our thanks also go out to those Texans who set Texas free from Mexico on this day in 1820.

 

 

 

Now that I have no excuses, the posting is going to be more frequent. I promise.

 

Monday's child has blood on face

Wow. It is 1:45 pm and we have managed to cram lots of living into this day. We started off with a major, very noisy explosion of Math Angst. There was weeping and wailing, a bit of self flagellation (metaphorical) and then I started laughing. I think I have mentioned this disorder I have that causes me to smile and laugh at totally inappropriate moments. It is most unwelcome, and never ceases to escalate an already FRAUGHT moment.

We did finally manage to neutralize the situation (with the help of Daddy on the phone) and things quieted down. Next, a large spider was reported in Helena's room, underneath a tutu. Then, while Helena and I were in the middle of her reading lesson, Hudson was doing some sort of joy celebration upon discovering I bought yogurt yesterday (ah, the simple pleasure of flavored Greek yogurt) and he flipped himself over a chair and face planted on the large djembe we have in our living room. There was an impressive amount of blood (though not, thankfully, on the borrowed and very expensive djembe) which caused Bleeding Angst. There was weeping and wailing, and then I started laughing. Again. (Why yes, I do think my children will be emotionally scarred by this behavior.)  I managed to stop laughing, we got the bleeding stopped, then Hudson sat in my lap for a nice long while until he finally decided that maybe he might be able to eat some blueberry yogurt. Helena then stated that she wished she had a bloody lip so she could sit in my lap.

A few minutes later, I was trying to get some clothes folded, and this announcement: "MOMMY!! A SNAKE!! ON THE PATIO!! "(Davene, you might want to stop reading for a minute) and I went outside to find all three kids hunched over this:

There were ecstatic utterances of "can we keep him?" and "Let's go buy him a cage this minute!" And not a single question of "might he be poisonous?" I told them to stand back, and went inside to consult Google. Only my iPad wouldn't work. Of course not. So, again, I called the husband and he disregards Occam's Razor, Herpetology Edition (think ribbon snake, not rattler) and immediately assumes this must be a baby rattlesnake, or possibly a water moccasin, or maybe even a copperhead. I am not particularly frightened around snakes, which I concede is ridiculous considering the completely irrational fear I have of roaches.  I thought it was endearing how he seemed to be using the hose as a sort of surrogate mommy. Anyway, I managed to put a plastic cover over it, came inside to restart the iPad, and finally ascertained that we probably have a common Texas Brown Snake, approximately 10 inches long.

And that, hopefully, ends today's exciting events. I think I might go have a short nap.

Hudson has been seven for almost one month.

I don't have a good excuse. Let us just resume as normal.
We've had some impressive goings on here. Hudson has lost two entire teeth (his first). and he turned SEVEN.He was seven MONTHS old when I started the blog, and he is now seven entire YEARS old. I have yet to do his birthday interview, but here are a couple of sample conversations I have had with him recently:

(On our way from dropping Harper off at a birthday party held at a place named Sweet and Sassy, wherein the little girls get their nails painted and their hair braided and sprayed with glitter hairspray. Not, incidentally, Harper's preferred environs, as you might imagine. She put on a brave, lipglossed face because she loves the birthday girl.)

Hudson: "Why is that place called "Sweet and Sassy"? What does "sassy" even mean?"
Me: "Well, I think it means kind of cute and energetic and spunky?"
Hudson: "What if they had named it "Sweet and Zombie Apocalypse"?"
Me: "I think that would service an entirely different demographic."
Hudson: "I would have my party there."

Then today on our way home from our co-op, this:

Hudson: "Did slaves get paid?"
Me: "No, that is essentially what slavery is: being forced to work for no pay."
Hudson: "But did they ever ENJOY cooking?"
Me: "Well, even if they enjoyed their work, they still wanted to be paid a fair wage for what they were doing. Incidentally, slavery is not, unfortunately, just in the past. but we can talk about that more later."
(Fairly long silence) then
Hudson: "So, you cook for us every day. And you don't get paid. Are you a slave?"

I was fairly impressed that he was generous enough to consider  the food preparation that I do "cooking." Also I wondered if he is too young to see "Twelve Years a Slave." Then I realize that I am likely too young to see " Twelve Years a Slave" considering I still have not fully recovered from watching Ferris Bueller whip Denzel Washington in "Glory" which I saw circa 1990.

Anyway, he is a delight, that boy. He is slow as a tortoise if I want him to hurry. He is extremely fast when he is running or zipping around on his bike and scooter. He wishes he never had to brush his teeth. He loves Mustangs very much and he lobs questions like, "Okay, which one is faster, a Mustang Shelby Cobra GT500, or a Lamborghini?" at me several times during every single car ride. I usually answer, "I don't know, but that would be a fun race to watch!" To which he responds, "I need you to look that up for me on your iPad the minute we get home. I want a real answer." I am back on the blog wagon now. More to come.

Saddest story ever told.

Just now I was washing Helena's hair and she declared that she is very funny because she tells very funny stories. And thus she commenced:

"Once upon a time there was a very, very, VERY old lady. Her name was Mommy! Patti Mommy."

No thank you. I would like another story.

Today, she and Hudson were playing with Matchbox cars while Harper and I did some multiplication (!),  and Helena was starting their race: "On your MARKERS, get your STICKERS......GO!"  I noticed that Hudson did not adopt her crafty variation when it was his turn to start.

We had a great Thanksgiving, hosted by the Grandparents Pate. I have never had to roast a turkey, and I hope that continues for a very long time.  I got to see my childhood friends Carrie and Sharon, and that was a delight. We have a rich history together that includes, but is not limited to, starring in the Port Arthur Little Theatre production of "The Wizard of Oz" in 1982 ("starring" might be a bit of a stretch. We were Winged Monkeys and also Jitterbugs), and also breaking through the popularity barrier by making the freshman cheerleading squad (Go Warriors!) in 1983. Old friends ARE gold, just like we used to sing in Bluebirds.

On Monday the kids and I got busy making some Jesse Tree ornaments with clay. I copied the designs from this blog. The good news is that Harper is a very capable artist now and was actually helpful. We got eight done today, so we could start Monday night (technically a few days late. Welcome to our home.)(Harper's version of Central America would have made the guys who dug the Panama Canal weep, but I decided to let it slide.)  Anyway the making of the ornaments went great, then I went into the attic to get out the little Christmas tree so we had something on which to hang them.  The dog followed me into the attic and managed to jump off the wood deck thing out into the insulation fluff. She was buried and flailing until I noticed, shrieked, and and managed to rescue her. Then I figured I probably ought to bathe her, because I think that fluffy insulation is actually made of fiberglass, and I surmised  that might be bad for dogs generally, and also for us since she sleeps IN our bed. After she was bathed, I told the kids what had transpired, and Harper said, "She probably just thought it looked like a nice soft cloudish place to curl up and take a nap," and she was right. That is Sasha's modus operandi: to curl up in a cloudish place and take a nice nap.

This morning,  we started off at the park, then the temperature dropped around 20 degrees, and we removed to the S's house, where we spent a very happy afternoon.

Then tonight, the husband was working late so we ate some popcorn, set up the rabbit ears, and watched some of "The Sound of Music" on the television. We sorely missed the marionettes, and I sent them to bed before the Nazis showed up, but it was a fun little diversion. Amen.
 

Don't poke a (dead) skunk, and other truths we hold to be self evident

We walked down to the park by the pool last Saturday while enjoying a visit from Grandmother M, and Helena announced that there was a HOLE! Under the boulder! And I did the "um hm, a hole, how interesting," because I was watching to make sure Hudson didn't crack every last vertebrae as he leapt from the other boulder that is at least 8 feet high, and also trying to keep the dog from strangling herself in her leash. Then Harper went over to investigate the hole and there was some mumbling and then, "Mommy, there is something ALIVE or maybe DEAD in the hole!" I went over to investigate and there was a distinct fluff of white and black hair sticking out from under the boulder. "Well, that is certainly a skunk. Let's back away slowly," I suggested. "It's already dead," Harper said casually. "And how exactly have you come to that conclusion?" I asked. "Well, I poked it with a stick," she said.

You know, there are so many possible scenarios that come up in parenting that you can prepare for.Then there are the dead skunks tucked under the playground boulder. I am really very and extremely grateful that the skunk WAS dead, because the only thing I know about removing the Odor of Agitated Skunk I learned from a Curious George book, and I didn't actually have any tomato juice at home. Anyway, I didn't waste that teachable moment, and now all three kids know that there should be NO POKING OR PRODDING OR OTHERWISE INVESTIGATING ANIMALS, EITHER WILD OR DOMESTICATED, TO DISCERN POSSIBLE ALIVENESS EVER.

We took our yearly trip to Dewberry "Farm" last Friday and it was so pleasant because someone else organized it and I didn't have a bit of responsibility. As usual, my kids' favorite part seemed to be the park at the entrance, where they usually only get to play for around 10 minutes.

The husband is, at this very moment, running a Tough Mudder race.Do you know what this is? I think it's like steeplechase, only with mud and without horses. Unfortunately, it is drizzling and 40 degrees out. We are not there to cheer him on because all of the kids seem to have colds already, and standing out in the drizzly cold is the opposite of salubrious. I am very sad not to get any pictorial evidence of the husband leaping and climbing and running in the mud. If you know him at all, you will understand that this is not exactly his preferred habitat.

That will  be all. I am really hoping to get the book blog started this week. We've been reading some delightful books lately that I would love to share.

Ninja, Swan, and Fairy

That was an unplanned hiatus. There has been no lack of happenings. Let's just jump back in.

I started reading lessons with Helena. She surprised me by writing her name in various places, with all of the letters in the correct order, which I took as a sign of readiness. I was hoping to wait a little longer. Although the book I have used with the other two is really easy in the early lessons, which means it only takes about 10 minutes out of my day. She is pleased to "do her school" and I sometimes remind her that "her school" is everything she is doing, all the day long. This is what she looks like when she is winking:

 One day, I overheard Hudson reading books to Helena in the bathroom while she was taking care of Bathroom Business. It struck me as a very sweet and tender moment. I thought better of photographing it, but I took a picture in my mind. One thing not so sweet and tender about Bathroom Business at our house is that it can NOT be accomplished expediently. We will be walking out the door, usually already running a little behind, and one of them will announce Bathroom Intentions. I will say, in a patient and benevolent tone (naturally), "Well, HURRY UP," then a few moments will pass and the child in question will reappear, having carefully gathered at least half a dozen books to take to the bathroom, yet still not having taken care of Bathroom Business. At which point I will say something (in a patient and benevolent tone, naturally) like, "There is a time for reading, and a time to REFRAIN FROM READING! THIS IS THE LATTER!" Then the kid in question will scurry away and, without the entertainment factor, things go much faster.

I am truly sorry for things taking such a scatological turn, but writing that story down just reminded me that one time a couple of years ago (I am 100% certain it was raining out)  the husband saw Sasha acting suspiciously on the carpet. He boomed, "SASHA DON'T YOU DARE POOP ON THE CARPET!" Alas, she was undone by fear. Out came the poop. And then we were undone by laughter. It's pretty funny to see a figure of speech come to (smelly, disgusting) life like that.

Harper made a card for our friend Ethan a couple of weeks ago. We all love Olivier Dunrea's sweet illustrations. Harper chose Peedie for this card. While she was drawing it, I wondered aloud if Dunrea had started out as a child doing reproductions of illustrations he admired. She asked if he got paid to write and illustrate children's books. I assured her he was compensated, probably handsomely, for his work. "THAT," she said firmly, "is what I am going to do for money when I am a grown up." I would not be at all surprised.

We were at my parents' last week, and there was the putting on of the costumes, and the meeting of the cousins at the church festivities. I present to you L-R: Tinkerbell, a ninja, and Louis the swan from Trumpet of the Swan:

 
 
Harper had made her own Louis costume to wear for Dress as Your Favorite Character From a Book day at our co-op a couple of weeks ago. It involved a white trash bag and required her to hold her hand straight up by her head because her arm was the swan neck. I persuaded her to use her own head this time, and we traded the trash bag for a white t-shirt and some bandanas.And yes, Hudson's taekwondo uniform makes yet another appearance. He actually wanted to be Bilbo Baggins, but a velvet cutaway was more than I could commit to.

More to come. Sooner, hopefully.

In a mirror, darkly

Last Friday night, we were on our way home from meeting the Daddy for dinner (the Fred Astaire Dance Studio was giving free lessons on the town square. I learned the first 8 counts of the Rumba, then Hudson said he was ready for BED NOW, so we left) and the kids, as usual when we are in the car at night, began asking Deep Questions. The discussion went something like this:

Hudson: Does everyone in the whole world have their lights on right now? Wait, I know the answer..NO!
Me: Well, let's see. It's almost 3 a.m. in England, so most people there are probably asleep. In China it is daylight.
Hudson: And Japan! Is Japan our friend?
Me: Yes, Japan is our friend now.
Harper: Which countries are not our friend right now?
Me: Well, that is a complicated question. Because it changes. For example, Japan wasn't always our friend. The Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor and that's what pulled our country into WWII. The Japanese were allied with the Germans. Remember how we talked about Adolf Hitler?
Harper: BUT WHY would the ninjas be friends with that bad foolish man?
Hudson: SATAN!
Me: Well, I don't know all of the details, but generally wars start and continue because people want more power. Also, I don't know that there were any actual Ninjas fighting with the Japanese. We can look that up when we get home.
Harper: Well, I do not know why there are wars because bad people want more power. I do not understand that AT ALL.
Hudson: SATAN!
(we had a short conversation about Satan and why he exists. Because that is easy to do while driving a minivan. At night. At the end of a long day.)
Me: Well, as to why people want more power,  I noticed that you were the leader at the playground with our friends today.
Harper: (defensively) Well, yes. But that is only because I won when Izzy did "eenie, meanie, miney, mo."
Me: Nonetheless, you seemed to enjoy being in charge and telling everyone what to do and where to go.
Harper: (affronted) Well, yes, but I wasn't telling them to do BAD things.
Hudson: (cheerily) And I did not mind not being in charge. And we all said, "Yes, My Master," whenever she told us to do stuff like guard the castle. And we put the bad guys in jail when she said to!
Me: Hmm. So yes, that is pretty much what happens.