And the green cloud of doom wins

Today has been anything but boring. Several things have happened, each in their turn, and they have all caused me to pause and reflect. I am trying to weigh the pros and cons of each event in order to help determine if any positivity can come out of them. Play along, won't you?

Today, I was able to:

Vote in my state's primary election.

Pros: I feel like a productive member of society who has a right to complain when I don't like who is in office, especially if her name happens to rhyme with Zillary Flinton.

Cons: My vote probably won't make a difference. Sorry, Mitt.
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I went to help in Hannah's class today.

Pros: I get to feel like an active, attentive parent and spend time with my daughter.

Cons: I get to see firsthand all the sniffles, sneezes, and coughs filling the air like a thick, green cloud of doom.
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I got called an hour after helping in Hannah's class to come pick her up because she was running a 103-degree fever.

Pros: I would not be going to Cub Scouts tonight.

Cons: I would get to spend the evening holding a feverish, whimpering child who is miserable and sad, instead of touring the firehouse with my den and staring at the strong, handsome men in their uniforms, which I love to do.
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I spent the remainder of the afternoon in the doctor's office.

Pros: None. Are you kidding me?

Cons: Three kids in the waiting room of the doctor's office? Enough said.
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The doctor determined that Hannah has a virus and prescribed three to five days of rest, fluids, and children's Motrin.

Pros: None.

Cons: We can look forward to three to five days of feverish, whimpering sadness. More if the green cloud of doom passes from person-to-person, as it frequently likes to do.
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Due to the aforementioned sick child, I was forced to cancel a day of planned self-indulgent appointments for myself tomorrow.

Pros: I am saving my husband some money, and that always makes him happy.

Cons: No shopping, browsing, mani/pedi, or movie day for me.
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I think the cons have it. Looks like a sucky day, today and tomorrow.

Blah.

Blink

Dear McKay,

Today you are ten years old. I look back and cannot believe how fast the time has gone.

You were born in Minneapolis on a crisp, sunny February day (although I have still not forgiven you for that, as you were supposed to be born on January 28). Your delivery was a little stressful for your dad and I. You somehow managed to get that cord tangled around your little neck, which is quite a feat considering the cramped quarters you were living in at the time. You came out perfect though, in the end, for which I am eternally grateful.

I can still picture you in your Daddy's arms that first time, just minutes old. You had your eyes wide open, and sat there just staring at Daddy's face while sucking on your little thumb. He rocked you slowly, back and forth, in a white wooden rocker, and I just held my breath. My heart felt like it was going to burst. I knew in that moment what it finally meant to love. You were my boys. Together at last. What started out as me and him became a family that day with you.

I can still picture you as a bald, cheerful newborn baby. You were the easiest of my three babies, and you rarely cried. I can remember even calling Oma and asking her if there was something wrong with you because you never cried. She laughed and told us to enjoy you. Which we did. You grew quickly and happily, and have never given us an ounce of trouble. You've met all your challenges thus far with a smile and a cheerful attitude.


You have broken us in as parents. Yours is the unhappy task of doing everything first and watching us make our mistakes on you. It's not hard to go easy on you though because you try so hard to please. You notice little things, like when I'm cranky, and you gently ask me if I need to eat something. You make sure to stop and play Hannah's games, even though you're dying to get back to your own stuff. You are the best friend Chase could ever have. Your strengths compliment his, and I know you will always be there to support him.

You are getting too big to sit on my lap and hug me anymore (I tried the other day and you thought you were going to die), but I know that you still need your Mama. I'm the one you run to, cheerfully waving a math test in your hand with a bright, red "A" scrawled on the top. I'm the one you hug tight when you go to bed, even though you pretend to think it's gross. You can still pretend, because deep down inside, I know. And that's more than enough for me.

So happy birthday, Mack. I could not be prouder of the boy you are, and I cannot wait to see the man you will become.

Love,

Mama

These kids, they are a superstitious lot

Yesterday, I felt sorry for the elementary school teachers. The electricity in the air was palpable. Kids were going beserk. They all had theories. They all were hatching plans. Everyone was claiming to be an expert.

Why the non-Halloween-candy-induced-mania, you ask?

Because we were supposed to get 6 to 10 inches of snow yesterday.

And every child within ten miles of our city was fervently praying for a snow day.

My three became fast believers; born-again Snow Dayers. They decided to adopt any and all good luck charms they heard throughout the day. They believed in any theory that anyone said would guarantee no school. Joined all the religions, so to speak. In covering all their bases, they did some very strange rituals last night.

For instance, each of my children went to bed with a spoon under their pillow:

They put an orange in the fridge:

They slept with their pajamas inside out and backwards:

And just to make sure, they even resorted to a little bit of this:

When we woke up this morning, [much to my dismay] their voodoo spells and good luck charms had worked.

School was cancelled. [You could almost hear parents everywhere crying. At least, the bad parents like me].

And by seven a.m., they were found doing this:

While I won't lie, I was found doing this:

And who says there's no religion in the schools anymore?

Gearing up for the Super Bowl

In not too many days, there will be a monumental event. A glorious, once-a-year tradition in which friends gather around the television set and worship for hours. There will most definitely be a lot of food involved. Probably some cheering. And some shouting. Maybe even some throwing of things AT the television.

And it's entirely possible that someone will get up and kiss the television screen at least once.

What is it that I speak of, sports fans?

It is the Super Bowl.

But not the Super Bowl in the traditional football sense, you see.

It is the Super Bowl for women. The Super Bowl of movies:

Oh yes, the original Pride and Prejudice that dreams are made of.

I am counting the days until I can attend a P&P Party at a friend's house this weekend. Darcy and Elizabeth in all their glory, just waiting to guide us through five hours of bliss which will culminate with Darcy jumping into the pond half-nekkid.

Delicious.

Oh yeah, and I think there might be some other type of Super Bowl thingie this weekend. Can't really say that I'm caring at all to watch it. Is that wrong? We did live in the kingdom that belongs to the Patriots for six years, so this means that I'm pretty much committing blasphemy.

But still. I just can't seem to bring myself to care about the football.

And I don't really care that I don't care about the football.

Maybe if Tom Brady were to don an 1800s riding suit and stare longingly into the camera my way, THEN I might care. Unless that happens, come Sunday night, you will find me doing this:

Go team Sunday nap!

Doing our best to do our duty

Over the Christmas holidays, I realized with a panic that my big boy was almost ten. No, the fear did not strike my heart because he is growing up way too fast (which it does, and he is), but every mother of boys knows that with each birthday comes the mad dash to complete and earn that year's cub scout rank. And the fear struck hard because I knew he wasn't even close.

So we've spent many a day with our Bear Scout book open on the counter - working our way through knots, safety, religion, and even a little cooking. Our diligence paid off, and soon he had completed every requirement in the entire book - except for one, which involved speaking with a police officer about crime prevention.

Knowing his den would not likely get this field trip in before his birthday, I scheduled a mini-tour of the police station myself.

The great day came last week, and we brought along Chase and our little neighbor friend, David. The boys were giddy with excitement at seeing the jail and were absolutely positive they'd be able to use the weapons (oh, the unharnessed dreams of little boys).

The tour itself was really quite cool. Being a small group, (they told me the cub scout tours are usually like 20-30 boys at a time) we were able to do so much more than a normal group. We met the chief of police. We pretended to get fingerprinted. We got locked in a jail cell. We took pictures in the line-up room. We met all the officers.

We did not get to use the weapons, however.

But we finished our tour, thanked the kind officers, and headed home to proudly sign off the last item in McKay's book.

Funny thing, that.

When I got home and started looking, I realized that you don't have to do everything in the book. It's like, "Pick two in this section. Pick three in this one."

Duh.

We did EVERY. SINGLE. THING in that blasted Bear Book.

[What makes this more shameful is that I am currently serving as the Wolf Den Leader. You'd think I'd have known.]

Wasn't a total waste of time, I suppose. Got to meet and hang out with the handsome boys in blue that patrol our neighborhood.

And now I'm wondering, do you think they'd let me borrow a uniform for the Husband? I'm afraid I really could get into this whole man-in-a-uniform-thing.

January thaw and schizophrenic computers

I've been playing blog-hookie the last few days for several reasons. Have you missed me? Have you? I've missed you, my pretend internet friends.

Our internet service has been schizophrenic, and has been somewhat unreliable for the last several months. This last bout was perfect timing, what with our own personal computer guru literally in the air, on his way here to spend quality time with his nephews and niece help us fix it.

Nothing says welcome like, "Here's our computer. Fix it and we'll feed you."

Don't you just want to come visit us? Come only if you have skills.

But the other reason for not being in the virtual world that I love is because it got up to the 50s today (from 10 degrees to 56 in one day, go figure). It's been miserable here the last few weeks, so today we had to get out and play in it.

We had ourselves a game of this:


Which included this:

And a critical team huddle like this:


Although some of us spent our time doing this (Newlyweds, blech):

We all did a little bit of trail walking like this:

And even some brave and adventurous walking like this:

But right now (thanks to Pete), I am happily back doing this:

[No, I am not that tan. This was a cheater photo from last year in San Diego when I WAS that tan.]

Let's hear it for beautiful weather, a computer genius, blogging at the end of a happy Saturday, and the promise of 60 degree temperatures tomorrow.