Thanksgiving & Happy Feet

We went to Adam's brother and sister-in-law's house for Thanksgiving. Actually, Adam's whole clan lives in the Raleigh-Durham area (or is planning to) except for us. I guess we're the black sheep of the family :) .

Anyway, the day we left, I had a pretty busy agenda -- sending out invitations to Xavier's birthday party, getting the oil changed in the van, stopping at the local candy shop ... yeah, if you know us, you know what I'm talking about. Anyway, I had Xavier tagging along with me as my little helper. Aside from a productive trip to the Honda dealership where I got the oil changed and Xavier decided our next car would be a gold Honda Accord, Xavier was not in the best of moods as we prepared for our journey. Finally I said, "Xav, what's wrong?"

"I don't like Piper!" he snapped. Piper is his cousin, Adam's niece. "She chases me around, she spits on me, and she calls me names!"

"Piper?" I asked. "Xavier, what are you talking about? Piper can't even walk yet, let alone chase you around. She can't even talk, so how can she call you a name?" Piper just celebrated her first birthday. "Piper is a baby, Xav."

"Piper is a baby?" Xav asked, a puzzled look crossing his face, followed by a smile. I never did figure out who he thought Piper was.

Anyway, we had a good time at Adam's clan gathering. The company was charming (Riley -- a cousin who is about Xavier's age -- was so thrilled to have Xavier and Miranda there that he talked about them even if they weren't there; Piper is adorable; and their parents were wonderful hosts), the food (courtesy of Adam's sister and mother) was terrific. Xavier getting a fever for Thanksgiving? Not so much fun. Having him wake up with gas AND coughing on Friday night? The fever was fun by comparison, but at least there was no ER visit. All and all, a good visit tempered with a little bit of Stress Relief.


Yesterday we saw Happy Feet. For months, we have been watching the trailers with great anticipation. What's not to like about computer-animated dancing penguins? Well, we had a head's up that it might not be all wine and roses when Adam's siblings vetoed the idea of going on Thanksgiving ("It's rated PG -- too scary for Riley.") PG? The second clue was reading the Mom's Review on movies.yahoo.com and hearing that there were some scary parts. But Gwen insisted that she was still up to watching it, so Xav did as well, of course.

You know how, when you are watching previews for a comedy, folks who have seen the movie tell you that the funniest parts were in the preview? Well, having seen Happy Feet, let me tell you -- ALL the funny parts are in the previews. Happy Feet, while good, is not a happy movie (although it has a happy-ish ending.) It was intense for Gwen, and WAY too intense for Xavier. The only thing that kept it from being a complete disaster for Xavier was that he fell asleep about half an hour into it. (This was especially ironic given that the ticket seller asked Adam how old the kids were, and Adam told her proudly that they were five and four -- a white lie that cost us $6.50 because three year olds -- which Xavier technically is for another week -- get in for free.) Anyway, it is a pretty good movie if you want to expose your kids to environmental and discrimination issues, but it is not the carefree songfest that it appears to be in the trailers.


So, Xavier is having an asthma day today. To make matters worse, we had the carpets cleaned today (never in a million years would I have scheduled the two together. Then again, if I was doing the scheduling, I would never schedule an asthma day, and I probably would have postponed carpet-cleaning until after the holidays.) In any event, when I went to pick Gwen up at 4:00, I was still wearing the same workout clothes I went to bed in last night (if Xav has an attack in the night, better to be dressed; if he doesn't, then I can sleep for a few more minutes before going to the gym.) I hadn't had anything to eat all day except a cup of raisin bran for breakfast. It had been a rough day work-wise, even if I was working from home. I figured that there was no way I was taking the kids to karate tonight, and I told Adam so.

So when I picked Gwen up, she melted into a pool of tears because she was not going to karate. "Gwen," I cajoled her. "Come on ... Xav has asthma today, the carpets were cleaned, and --" Hold on -- what am I saying? The air quality in the karate school has GOT to be better than in my carpet-cleaner house, and I should NEVER deny my child the opportunity for a good workout. So I loaded the kids, the computer (no way was Xav doing karate), and the karate basket into the van, and off we went. Gwen got another stripe on her belt today, and Xavier's cough cleared significantly. All and all, a good time was had by all.

Still, there was no way I was going to karate tonight.

Not Dead Yet

I have been berated for not posting sooner, and I apologize, but it has been a hectic few weeks.

Two weeks ago, the director at my son's daycare made some offhand comment about the stomach flu going around. I live in absolute dread of the stomach flu -- the last time Gwen had it (about a year and a half ago) I ended up having to take her to the emergency room to get hydrated, and then I caught it from her and lost seven pounds in the course of a week (okay, so it wasn't all bad.) Nonetheless, ever since, I have been waiting, wondering ...

Well, the kids didn't get the stomach flu that week. The following Monday, Xavier had a fever, but was in all other respects all right, so we breathed a sigh of relief and sent him back on Tuesday. Wednesday, Gwen threw up and Xavier had the other symptom of the stomach flu (if you know what I mean.) It is rare when the kids get the same ailment, rarer still when they get it at the same time.

Yes, it was inconvenient for them to get sick -- we have the Christmas pageant coming up, I was due to test for my purple belt in Kempo Karate, and work was ... well, okay, there is never a good time for kids to get sick as far as work is concerned. But despite all of the stories I was hearing about emergency room overflows, the kids really didn't get that sick this time. They were playful, and although Gwen was disappointed to miss school ("Mommy, take my temperature! I don't have a fever!") we had a good time playing robot wars in the van (the van was their secret base) and playing with Adam's old Transformer toys. They were having so much fun, in fact, that it was almost impossible to get them to stop and watch a video -- trust me, that almost never happens.

Well, they are back at school now. Xavier, inspired by all his "Transformer" activity, and perhaps a bit biased by his other love, "Bionicles," which are Lego-based robots, has created his own Transformer out of Legos that he calls "Fire-lace." Fire-lace is fairly minimal as far as Transformers go (being made of, essentially, six or seven long Lego pieces), but is far more versitile. In addition to his robot form, he can turn into a car, submarine, plane, letter H, and broccoli (well, I have only heard about this last one -- but I'm sure he knows what he is talking about.)

The kids are back to their old tricks as well. When Gwen called me at work yesterday, she sounded as if she might have been crying, and when Adam got on the phone after the school bus picked her up, he said, "These kids have been driving me fudging crazy this morning! They have been whining and complaining, not eating their fudging breakfast, throwing fits when they got dressed, and I am fudging fed up with it!" Of course, he was not using the word "fudging."

With this in mind, I said, "I sure hope that Xavier isn't anywhere nearby -- the last thing we need is for him to be learning new words."

As if on cue, in the background, Xav piped up, "Daddy, let's play teacher!"

I laughed for two minutes. I don't think it improved Adam's mood.


I did take my test at Kempo Karate Class last night, and I did manage to pass even though Gwen left her class -- in the middle of my test -- in tears. So I now have a Purple Belt, so no picking on me anymore! (Or as one of my coworkers said today, "We'll be careful around you from now on; we didn't need to worry yesterday, but now ..." Still, it is kind of cute when your daughter declares, "I'm proud of you, Mommy!" and your son hugs your belt against his face like a teddy bear and says, "I love your purple belt!"

As a closing note on this Thenksgiving holiday, I will leave you with a "pom" (poem) Gwen wrote today:

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day;
I hope I get to ride a turkey today!
I am happy for my fish and everything and God
And I don't care who says that's wrong!
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day
And I get to have fun -- yay!

Don't know about line four up there -- religious persecution at age five? But I hope you all have a Happy Thanksgiving anyway!

Modern Maturity

Sorry it has taken me so long to write. I have been experiencing technical difficulties with my Internet connection from home, and this is the first night I have been able to get in (even so I am using my work computer, but since I am not technically at work (or literally at work, either) I don't feel so guilty.

Anyway, my folks came up this weekend. When they came into the house, Xavier threw himself into my father's arms and cried, "I've had enough caffeine already!"


We also had a Hallowe'en Party for a few of my kids' friends. Gwen had a whole list of kids she wanted to invite, but Xavier held out for one special person: Bob Wiley (of course, Bob's name -- like all others -- has been changed to protect the innocent.) There was only one difficulty; Xav knows his friend from daycare, I had no option to get his address except to ask the director of the daycare for it, and my kids had no interest in inviting the director's kids (Gwen has an on-again, off-again friendship with the director's older son, and I guess it was "off" at this time.) Luckily, the director opted for a vacation two weeks before the party, so I asked her assistant when I went to pick up the kids one day, "Could I get Bob Wiley's address?"

"Do you mean, 'Bob Riley'?" she asked. She gave me Bob's address anyway, an invitation was sent, and peace was restored to the land. Still, he will always be 'Bob Wiley' in our hearts.

Anyway, I had never met Bob before, but when he showed up for the party, I admit I was a little surprised. Xavier is -- admittedly -- a tad petite for an almost-four-year-old, but I had kind of envisoned Bob as being a cute little ragamuffin like my boy. Instead, it turns out Bob is five, and a very tall and stocky five at that. I certainly wouldn't go so far as to say that Bob shaves, but he definitely looked the part of the gladiator he was dressed as. Xavier does not come past his shoulders. Still, when Xavier returned to school on Monday (after being out all of last week), Bob and he immediately scampered off together, leaving Adam at the door. I guess Xav is more mature than we thought.


On a less mature front, Xav came downstairs this morning after I had left and asked Adam, "Where's Mommy?"

"Mommy went to work, son."

Xavier's face collapsed like he was going to throw a fit. He curled his little hand into a fist and swung it down as he stomped on the floor, raging, "But I wanted to say good-bye!"


Meanwhile, we also returned to karate on Monday, but I would not allow Xav to participate, since he had already been through the excitement of returning to school. Gwen also wanted to be excused ("But I have a cough!") Once she saw the Instructor, however, she couldn't wait to get started. Unfortunately, the Instructor was a little under the weather himself, so he delegated the Pee Wee class to his young, college-aged (male) assistant. Now, in a normal Pee Wee class, Gwen likes doing the moves, but she looks to me continually for approval. If she coughs, she wants a drink. But with the assistant instructor teaching her, I might as well have left -- she was completely unaware of my presence, and when she coughed, she told the young instructor she was fine, let's continue. It might be that he has a knack for this, but I really think his teaching skill had little to do with her dedicated interest.

Along a similar line, I took her to the doctor today for a flu shot. When I returned her to school, one of her boy friends who lives across the street from us, came running up (just having returned from the bathroom, evidently, because he was zipping his pants.) He greeted her boisterously, then turned to me and said, "Miranda's Mom, I can't wait for Miranda to come to my house for a sleepover."

Sleepover with boys? Sorry, I'm just not ready (or mature enough) for that.

Clue-less

In the middle of the night last night, our door opened and Gwen came in, nearly in tears. "Mommy, Daddy," she whimpered. "The cat threw up on my bed and it got on my dinosaur!"

Adam leapt out of bed and headed for her room. I followed, but even in my sleep-befuddled state, I thought, "How on earth could the cat have thrown up on her bed?" We keep her door closed at night to keep the cats from trying to sleep with her -- not that I really think they are tempted.

When I reached the room, Adam said, "Wow, she's right! The cat did puke on the bed! And there's a whole lot of it! What a mess!"

"Adam," I responded, "I don't think it was the cat. I think it was Gwen." Now, Gwen has a history of throwing up on the drop of a hat. If she coughs and the stars are in alignment, up it comes. This is not even the first time she has thrown up in her sleep without waking up.

Adam pulled the sheets off the bed and took them into the bathroom where he could examine them with the light on without waking Gwen up further by turning on her light. He came back as I was helping Gwen change her pajamas, and said, "You're right -- definitely not the cat."

Just then the commotion woke Xav up and he started coughing, so I went to check on him and help him use the bathroom. While I was with him, Gwen, who never wants to admit to being sick, complained to Adam again about the cat.

"Honey," he said gently, "It was not the cat. Cats don't eat people food."

Gwen pondered this, then a lightbulb went off. "Xavier must have gotten up, come into my room, and thrown up on the bed."

Adam stifled a laugh. "Honey, I'm pretty sure it wasn't Xavier."

Gwen furrowed her brow as she thought about this. "Well, we know it wasn't me," she said at last. "It's a mystery."


Grandparent Alert: Gwen isn't sick, not more than a little cold. She went to school today and had no issues. This is just one of the things she does sometimes.