Miranda's school is having a field trip to the local park on Thursday, which will be followed by a trip to the local ice cream store. Miranda will not be going on this field trip because we'll be spending the extended weekend with my parents. My mother has a big birthday on Thursday and we can't wait to see her.
How excited we are can only be illustrated by an observation Miranda made to me today as I was loading her in the car to take her to karate. She said (out of the blue), "We're having a field trip on Thursday, but I won't be able to go, but that's okay because I will be spending time with my Grammy, and spending time with Grammy is MUCH better than getting ice cream."
I would definitely agree.
And, for the less-sentimental amongst you, Xavier was talking to Adam and pointed to a picture of a favorite Looney Tunes character and asked who it was.
"That's the Tasmanian Devil," Adam replied.
Xavier assumed a thoughtful expression, and asked, "The Taz-maybe-an-devil?"
Monday, June 26, 2006
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Ying and Yang, Part 2
Xavier is better today. It is amazing how quickly (and how suddenly) Amoxicillan can kill an ear infection. At 3:00 this morning, Xav had one of those high fevers where they mumble a lot and can't quite fall asleep, and it took an hour after Tylenol for his fever to break ... and his fever did not come back. At all. So, since an ear infection is noncontagious, he was allowed to return to school today.
In spite of this, Adam had a rough morning. At one point, he had to send both kids to their rooms because they were throwing screaming fits. He had just announced that they would be going to school after lunch. Xavier was crying because he didn't want to go to school; Miranda was crying because she didn't want to wait so long to go to school.
In spite of this, Adam had a rough morning. At one point, he had to send both kids to their rooms because they were throwing screaming fits. He had just announced that they would be going to school after lunch. Xavier was crying because he didn't want to go to school; Miranda was crying because she didn't want to wait so long to go to school.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Ying and Yang
Well, you guys remember how much fun Xavier had "Working with Mom"?
Today, Adam had to take Xavier to the doctor because he still had a fever, he was still cranky, and he allowed that his ear hurt (until he realized this was going to net him a trip to the doctor, then suddenly he felt "fine," fever not withstanding.)
When Adam called to give me the update, Miranda asked to talk to me. "Mom, I can't wait to get to school and see Sam today!" she gushed.
"Um, I don't think you are going to school today, Miranda. Xavier is sick."
"Of course I am. Bye!"
I started talking to Adam about Xavier's status, and in the background I could hear the kids going back and forth on the topic of school. Since Adam was holding Xavier, his input was very loud.
Miranda: "I can't wait to go to school today and see Sam!"
Xavier: "We're NOT GOING TO SCHOOL TODAY, BECAUSE I HAVE A FEBER!"
Miranda: "Yes, we are!"
Xavier: "NO, WE"RE NOT!"
Miranda: "Yes, we are!"
Adam: (to me) "Hold on." (to the kids) "Miranda, you aren't going to school today."
Miranda: (anguished) "Why not?"
Adam: "Because Xavier has a fever, and Mom is coming home to take care of you. Besides, you'll get to go to work with Mom."
Miranda: "AAAAAAAAAAAA! I don't want to work with Mom -- I want to go to school and see Sam!"
We decided to let Miranda go to school instead of forcing her to come work with me, which is probably just as well, because sick kid equals short day. I told her I would pick her up on my way home from lunch, which she found acceptable.
Of course, Sam wasn't at school today.
Today, Adam had to take Xavier to the doctor because he still had a fever, he was still cranky, and he allowed that his ear hurt (until he realized this was going to net him a trip to the doctor, then suddenly he felt "fine," fever not withstanding.)
When Adam called to give me the update, Miranda asked to talk to me. "Mom, I can't wait to get to school and see Sam today!" she gushed.
"Um, I don't think you are going to school today, Miranda. Xavier is sick."
"Of course I am. Bye!"
I started talking to Adam about Xavier's status, and in the background I could hear the kids going back and forth on the topic of school. Since Adam was holding Xavier, his input was very loud.
Miranda: "I can't wait to go to school today and see Sam!"
Xavier: "We're NOT GOING TO SCHOOL TODAY, BECAUSE I HAVE A FEBER!"
Miranda: "Yes, we are!"
Xavier: "NO, WE"RE NOT!"
Miranda: "Yes, we are!"
Adam: (to me) "Hold on." (to the kids) "Miranda, you aren't going to school today."
Miranda: (anguished) "Why not?"
Adam: "Because Xavier has a fever, and Mom is coming home to take care of you. Besides, you'll get to go to work with Mom."
Miranda: "AAAAAAAAAAAA! I don't want to work with Mom -- I want to go to school and see Sam!"
We decided to let Miranda go to school instead of forcing her to come work with me, which is probably just as well, because sick kid equals short day. I told her I would pick her up on my way home from lunch, which she found acceptable.
Of course, Sam wasn't at school today.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Back From Civilization
We went to see my husband's parents over the weekend. We went to the beach, got ice cream all over our clothes, and a great time was had by all (although Xavier may have gotten a sinus or ear infection from a dip he took in the York River -- we'll see how that turns out.)
Sometimes when we go on travel to see relatives, I think to myself, "Wouldn't it be nice if we lived here, so we wouldn't have to drive four to six hours to get here every few months?" Any thoughts like that were quickly dispelled when we were driving on 64 between Richmond and my in-laws' home. Feeling pretty pleased that we had managed to get around the beltway so quickly in what is typically early rush hour, I glanced at the mile marker -- twenty miles to go -- and the clock -- 4:20 -- and thought to myself, "Geez! We're going to be there in less than half an hour!" About this time, the kids started chorusing that they wanted to watch a video, and there were the usual tears over whose turn it was to pick said video (finally it was decided that it was my husband's turn), and then that his choice -- Aladdin -- was too scary. "Don't worry, Miranda," I said cheerfully, "We'll be at Nana's house long before we get to the scary parts."
Of course, no sooner were those words from my mouth when traffic came to a complete standstill. It took us over an hour and a half to go the last twenty miles to my in-laws. And if that weren't sad enough, when we reached the bottleneck, it was nothing so noble as a car accident or road construction (or both) -- it was half a dozen men walking along the side of the road with weed-eaters, trimming the brush around the guard rails. How does anyone stand to live there? Not only did we finish Aladdin, but we were well into the second video before we turned into their driveway.
Tonight was karate night. We went to the kids' class, then to dinner, then I came back to meet Adam and tell him that I think Xavier has a fever (which, as it turns out, he does) and then they went home and I went to the adult class. Class ran over a little, so I rushed home and got home in time to tuck the kids in, but too late to help put them to bed or read them a story. I asked Adam later if he had remembered to give Miranda her allergy medicine.
He smiled and said, "A funny thing about that ... we were halfway through brushing Miranda's teeth when she said suddenly, 'Dad! We forgot my medicine!'
"'Well,' I said, 'honey, we can either give you your medicine now, and then rinse out your mouth and finish brushing, or we can give it a miss tonight. Do you think that you need it tonight?'
"Miranda thought for a minute, then said, 'No, I don't need it. But Mommy does.'"
Sometimes when we go on travel to see relatives, I think to myself, "Wouldn't it be nice if we lived here, so we wouldn't have to drive four to six hours to get here every few months?" Any thoughts like that were quickly dispelled when we were driving on 64 between Richmond and my in-laws' home. Feeling pretty pleased that we had managed to get around the beltway so quickly in what is typically early rush hour, I glanced at the mile marker -- twenty miles to go -- and the clock -- 4:20 -- and thought to myself, "Geez! We're going to be there in less than half an hour!" About this time, the kids started chorusing that they wanted to watch a video, and there were the usual tears over whose turn it was to pick said video (finally it was decided that it was my husband's turn), and then that his choice -- Aladdin -- was too scary. "Don't worry, Miranda," I said cheerfully, "We'll be at Nana's house long before we get to the scary parts."
Of course, no sooner were those words from my mouth when traffic came to a complete standstill. It took us over an hour and a half to go the last twenty miles to my in-laws. And if that weren't sad enough, when we reached the bottleneck, it was nothing so noble as a car accident or road construction (or both) -- it was half a dozen men walking along the side of the road with weed-eaters, trimming the brush around the guard rails. How does anyone stand to live there? Not only did we finish Aladdin, but we were well into the second video before we turned into their driveway.
Tonight was karate night. We went to the kids' class, then to dinner, then I came back to meet Adam and tell him that I think Xavier has a fever (which, as it turns out, he does) and then they went home and I went to the adult class. Class ran over a little, so I rushed home and got home in time to tuck the kids in, but too late to help put them to bed or read them a story. I asked Adam later if he had remembered to give Miranda her allergy medicine.
He smiled and said, "A funny thing about that ... we were halfway through brushing Miranda's teeth when she said suddenly, 'Dad! We forgot my medicine!'
"'Well,' I said, 'honey, we can either give you your medicine now, and then rinse out your mouth and finish brushing, or we can give it a miss tonight. Do you think that you need it tonight?'
"Miranda thought for a minute, then said, 'No, I don't need it. But Mommy does.'"
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Wildlife
Today, Adam took the kids downtown to run some errands. Before they headed out, Adam told the kids, "We are going to the kitchen store and the candy store. If you are good, you can pick out a treat at the kitchen store OR the candy store, but not both. All right?" The kids agreed to these terms.
The kids were good at the kitchen store, but decided they wanted to pick their treat at the candy store (as Miranda put it, "If I get a treat here, it will just be chocolate anyway, so I might as well pick something at the candy store.") When they arrived at the candy store, Xavier immediately selected a jaw-breaker the size of a baseball.
"Xavier, how are you going to eat that?" my husband asked.
"I don't know."
"Honey," my husband went on, "it is too big to even fit in your mouth."
Xavier pondered this. "Maybe an elephant could eat it."
My husband persuaded him that, since we did not actually have an elephant, perhaps he should pick something else, which he did.
This afternoon, I took the kids to a local National Forest park where we like to go hiking. There is a boardwalk that goes over a swamp there, and there is an observation area about midway across the boardwalk that the kids like to eat a picnic snack on. As we were headed for the snack area, we attracted the attention of a number of Canada geese that live in the swamp, along with their goslings. The goslings were all in various states of development, from fuzzy, duck-like creatures to goslings with the distinctive Canada markings but without the size (as I told my friend, they looked like "Canada ducks."
As the kids started their snacks, it became readily clear that these Canada geese were used to handouts, because the fuzzy goslings swam down below the observation deck and looked up expectantly at Xavier. Xavier was fascinated by them, but did not feed them because I wouldn't let him. Finally the goslings gave up and turned to swim away. Xavier waved good-bye to them -- and they swung back around and resumed their post underneath the deck (clearly thinking that he was throwing food to them.)
After a few repetitions of this process, Xavier figured it out, and just started waving frantically at the goslings to keep them nearby, while the goslings bobbed their heads furiously, trying to figure out where he was throwing his food. In the end, Xavier never did finish his snack.
That was probably the high point of the trip, although we also saw a deer in the parking lot, a turtle and many, many fish in the water, a frog, and we even had the excitement of a bee in the car on the way home. When Adam asked the kids what they saw, though, they immediately chorused, "Sea shells!" because there were fresh-water mollusks in lake. It's amazing what sticks in their brains.
The kids were good at the kitchen store, but decided they wanted to pick their treat at the candy store (as Miranda put it, "If I get a treat here, it will just be chocolate anyway, so I might as well pick something at the candy store.") When they arrived at the candy store, Xavier immediately selected a jaw-breaker the size of a baseball.
"Xavier, how are you going to eat that?" my husband asked.
"I don't know."
"Honey," my husband went on, "it is too big to even fit in your mouth."
Xavier pondered this. "Maybe an elephant could eat it."
My husband persuaded him that, since we did not actually have an elephant, perhaps he should pick something else, which he did.
This afternoon, I took the kids to a local National Forest park where we like to go hiking. There is a boardwalk that goes over a swamp there, and there is an observation area about midway across the boardwalk that the kids like to eat a picnic snack on. As we were headed for the snack area, we attracted the attention of a number of Canada geese that live in the swamp, along with their goslings. The goslings were all in various states of development, from fuzzy, duck-like creatures to goslings with the distinctive Canada markings but without the size (as I told my friend, they looked like "Canada ducks."
As the kids started their snacks, it became readily clear that these Canada geese were used to handouts, because the fuzzy goslings swam down below the observation deck and looked up expectantly at Xavier. Xavier was fascinated by them, but did not feed them because I wouldn't let him. Finally the goslings gave up and turned to swim away. Xavier waved good-bye to them -- and they swung back around and resumed their post underneath the deck (clearly thinking that he was throwing food to them.)
After a few repetitions of this process, Xavier figured it out, and just started waving frantically at the goslings to keep them nearby, while the goslings bobbed their heads furiously, trying to figure out where he was throwing his food. In the end, Xavier never did finish his snack.
That was probably the high point of the trip, although we also saw a deer in the parking lot, a turtle and many, many fish in the water, a frog, and we even had the excitement of a bee in the car on the way home. When Adam asked the kids what they saw, though, they immediately chorused, "Sea shells!" because there were fresh-water mollusks in lake. It's amazing what sticks in their brains.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Over the Edge
We went to see Over the Hedge in the movie theater on Saturday. It was a little long for Mr. Xavier, who likes to putter around while he is watching a video. Midway through, I had to take him out for a little bit, just so he could "have a break." When I picked him up and started jamming with him as Mission Impossible 3 was letting out, he expressed a strong desire to go back in; even at three-and-a-half, his dignity has some limits.
Miranda, on the other hand, liked the movie well enough. The movie was rated PG, but it wasn't all that scary. She even came away saying that her favorite character was the evil bear Vincent. (Curse of the Wererabbit, on the other hand, was allegedly rated G, and she says she won't watch that again -- who rates this stuff?) Even if Over the Hedge wasn't too scary, though, the "prevideos" that accompanied it were, and we spent two bedtimes explaining that there was no such thing as a house that attacks people.
Anyway, the kids' daycare is starting its summer program for "schoolers", and their first field trip is to see ... Over the Hedge. Miranda is really excited to be going (especially since fiance Sam will be there), although she did instruct me, "Now, you have to tell the teacher that I am too young to watch the prevideos."
Now, this is a field trip for the "schoolers", as opposed to the "butterfly" class, which Xavier and Miranda were both in a short time ago. Now Xavier is still a "butterfly", so I think he is going to be pretty disappointed when she starts going on field trips without him. On the other hand, Miranda seems to be having a hard time grasping that she has changed. "Why am I not a butterfly anymore?" is a frequent refrain. Today, however, she seemed to have accepted her change in status: "I get to go to this movie because I am a *schooler* now," she announced proudly, "Or, as we are sometimes called, 'a dead butterfly.'"
I'm pretty confident that they are not sometimes called that.
Miranda, on the other hand, liked the movie well enough. The movie was rated PG, but it wasn't all that scary. She even came away saying that her favorite character was the evil bear Vincent. (Curse of the Wererabbit, on the other hand, was allegedly rated G, and she says she won't watch that again -- who rates this stuff?) Even if Over the Hedge wasn't too scary, though, the "prevideos" that accompanied it were, and we spent two bedtimes explaining that there was no such thing as a house that attacks people.
Anyway, the kids' daycare is starting its summer program for "schoolers", and their first field trip is to see ... Over the Hedge. Miranda is really excited to be going (especially since fiance Sam will be there), although she did instruct me, "Now, you have to tell the teacher that I am too young to watch the prevideos."
Now, this is a field trip for the "schoolers", as opposed to the "butterfly" class, which Xavier and Miranda were both in a short time ago. Now Xavier is still a "butterfly", so I think he is going to be pretty disappointed when she starts going on field trips without him. On the other hand, Miranda seems to be having a hard time grasping that she has changed. "Why am I not a butterfly anymore?" is a frequent refrain. Today, however, she seemed to have accepted her change in status: "I get to go to this movie because I am a *schooler* now," she announced proudly, "Or, as we are sometimes called, 'a dead butterfly.'"
I'm pretty confident that they are not sometimes called that.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
My assistant
Miranda started showing cold-like symptoms on Tuesday night, and after we were up with her three times Tuesday night with coughing episodes, we decided we'd probably better take her to the doctor and get her checked out.
When one of our kids is sick and the other is well, one of us will take the sick kid in while the other babysits the well one. Unfortunately, I needed to be at work on Wednesday morning, so I was joined midmorning by my assistant, Mr. Xavier.
At first, Mr. Xavier was a perfectly charming assistant. He wrote facts, figures, and pictures on my white board, he flirted with the receptionist, ate my snack bars, and discussed diagramming with Ash. But soon he tired of this mundane work, and he started asking for something more challenging, like working on the computer (a big NO on that one), or a thrilling rendition of that Thomas the Tank Engine classic, "Stop, Train, Stop" (okay, I gave in on that one.) Then the phone rang.
The first caller -- a customer with a problem -- heard the little voice over the phone and said, "Oh! You have an assistant today! I had my five-year-old with me on such-and-such day, and --" Nothing diffuses a potentially stressful situation by finding you have a common bond.
With the second caller -- a technical writer who was supposed to have something done for me that day and who was communicating with me from New Mexico via her hard-to-hear cell phone -- I was not so lucky. Xavier kept trying to butt in, "Mommy? Mommy! MOMMY!" until I turned to him and said, "Xav, just a minute." As I resumed my discussion with the tech writer, he uttered those six words that can inspire terror and pride simultaneously in any parent: "I need to use the potty!" At that, I had to tell the tech writer I would call her back.
I felt some relief when Miranda and Adam appeared, and more to find out she had just a cold, and I walked them out to the elevator. The doors opened. Miranda stepped in and Xavier turned to me. "Is Mommy coming with us?"
"No," my husband replied, "she needs to go back to work."
"I want to stay here and work with Mommy," Xavier said, stepping off the elevator.
"No, Xav, you need to come home with me and Miranda."
"I WANT TO STAY AND WORK WITH MOMMY!" Xavier screamed and took off running down the hall. Both Adam and I started after him until I realized that we had left our other child in the elevator and I went back to make sure it didn't leave without a parent. Adam returned with the squirming boy in his arms and hopped on the elevator; even the elevator doors were not sufficient to cut out completely the cries of "I want to stay with Mommy!"
I returned to my office, breathing a sigh of relief, enjoying the peace and quiet for a second. I picked up the phone to return a call when I start hearing a strange little sound. It has a funny rhythm to it ... I look out the window and see Adam and Miranda standing by the van three floors below me. And there was Xavier, running across the parking lot, his voice softened by the glass, screaming, "Want to work with Mommy! Want to work with Mommy!"
My husband is a saint.
When one of our kids is sick and the other is well, one of us will take the sick kid in while the other babysits the well one. Unfortunately, I needed to be at work on Wednesday morning, so I was joined midmorning by my assistant, Mr. Xavier.
At first, Mr. Xavier was a perfectly charming assistant. He wrote facts, figures, and pictures on my white board, he flirted with the receptionist, ate my snack bars, and discussed diagramming with Ash. But soon he tired of this mundane work, and he started asking for something more challenging, like working on the computer (a big NO on that one), or a thrilling rendition of that Thomas the Tank Engine classic, "Stop, Train, Stop" (okay, I gave in on that one.) Then the phone rang.
The first caller -- a customer with a problem -- heard the little voice over the phone and said, "Oh! You have an assistant today! I had my five-year-old with me on such-and-such day, and --" Nothing diffuses a potentially stressful situation by finding you have a common bond.
With the second caller -- a technical writer who was supposed to have something done for me that day and who was communicating with me from New Mexico via her hard-to-hear cell phone -- I was not so lucky. Xavier kept trying to butt in, "Mommy? Mommy! MOMMY!" until I turned to him and said, "Xav, just a minute." As I resumed my discussion with the tech writer, he uttered those six words that can inspire terror and pride simultaneously in any parent: "I need to use the potty!" At that, I had to tell the tech writer I would call her back.
I felt some relief when Miranda and Adam appeared, and more to find out she had just a cold, and I walked them out to the elevator. The doors opened. Miranda stepped in and Xavier turned to me. "Is Mommy coming with us?"
"No," my husband replied, "she needs to go back to work."
"I want to stay here and work with Mommy," Xavier said, stepping off the elevator.
"No, Xav, you need to come home with me and Miranda."
"I WANT TO STAY AND WORK WITH MOMMY!" Xavier screamed and took off running down the hall. Both Adam and I started after him until I realized that we had left our other child in the elevator and I went back to make sure it didn't leave without a parent. Adam returned with the squirming boy in his arms and hopped on the elevator; even the elevator doors were not sufficient to cut out completely the cries of "I want to stay with Mommy!"
I returned to my office, breathing a sigh of relief, enjoying the peace and quiet for a second. I picked up the phone to return a call when I start hearing a strange little sound. It has a funny rhythm to it ... I look out the window and see Adam and Miranda standing by the van three floors below me. And there was Xavier, running across the parking lot, his voice softened by the glass, screaming, "Want to work with Mommy! Want to work with Mommy!"
My husband is a saint.
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