I just washed yet another tube of chapstick while doing laundry.
Except this time it was in a load of whites.
And it was cherry-flavored.
« June 2007 | Main | August 2007 »
I just washed yet another tube of chapstick while doing laundry.
Except this time it was in a load of whites.
And it was cherry-flavored.
Last night we braved the wilds of Pennsylvania roadways, cutting a path to Reading so we could catch a Wiggles show. My mom emailed to ask if Henry enjoyed it. I thought I would post my reply since it sums everything up:
he had such a good time! he got to eat lots of french fries and chicken strips from the concession stand which he loved, except i just changed his diaper and wow, he can't be feeling that great although he's in a good mood so what do i know. i think he was a bit stupefied by the whole experience, but when they played one of his favorite songs during their opening medley, he started to figure out what was going on. he sat on my lap the whole time and just stared and stared. lately he's been making us sing twinkle twinkle little star, often, and last night they sang it with all the lights turned down and a disco ball spinning around. they also had parents hold up cell phones so it looked like there were lots of little stars in the audience. it was great. henry loved that bit. it was a lot of fun. a grandma who was seated behind us stopped us on the way out to comment on how well-behaved henry was throughout the show. i mentioned i thought it was mostly due to shock. her grandkid was about henry's age and was all over the place, physically and emotionally, going from happy to crying at the drop of a hat. it was how i imagined henry would be at the show because he's pretty young to be sitting in one spot for an hour and a half, but he did. i can't believe i'm going to say this but it was a relaxing evening. also, anthony is even cuter in real life. so's the pirate. i bought a feathersword for henry, but let's be honest, i really bought it for myself. rowr.
This past Saturday Megan and I shop-sat Mad About Ewes again. It was glorious. Five hours of non-stop talking. It reminded me of the time we drove out to Boston together and didn't turn on the radio once the entire seven hour drive because of all of the talk-talk-talking that was going on. As an added bonus, while Dave was at McDonalds with Henry he picked up two Hello Kitty Happy Meals and two chocolate chip cookies. We each got a Hello Kitty compact that has a mirror that makes half your face look lopsided and a heart-shaped pot filled with lip gloss.
Later that evening Megan, Phoebe, and I met up at Bucknell for the Cavalcade of Champions. We were all pretty excited, but I think Megan beat both of us in terms of sheer anticipation of the event because she was kneeling on her chair, clapping her hands maniacally, and giggling the whole time. Not really, but she might as well have been. The corps that were great were really, really great and the corps that weren't were still pretty decent. There were lots of people tossing around flags and swords and rifles. That aspect of drum corps I usually associate with women but boy there were a lot of cute guys in there as well. In fact, we spent so much time commenting extensively on all the cute guys that I'm certain all of the men who were sitting around us at the show left the stadium burdened with the knowledge that yes, women really are as bad as men, and sometimes we're even worse.
Someone at the show took a lot of pictures and posted them on flickr. Here's the link to the set if you're interested.
Henry had his teeth looked at today. The dentist said he thought everything looked fine, and to bring him back for a cleaning later on when his gums have had more of a chance to heal. We're all very relieved. Despite many pre-appointment viewings of the episode of Elmo that features teeth and a trip to the dentist, Henry did not think very highly of the experience.
Afterwards, we headed out to another pool party, which is both a great way to start the week and a great way to end it. On the drive out Dave kept telling Henry that we were going to see another dentist, that in fact, Henry had a few more dentist appointments after the next one as well. Fortunately, Henry doesn't pay too much attention to what his dad says to him.
This particular pool party was surrounded by 96 acres of farmland, meadow, a big hill, and lots of islands of trees to run around. And a groundhog hole. I don't think I can adequately express exactly how much fun Henry had running around, eating, swimming, and swinging. And then, as if the day couldn't get any better, just as we were about to leave he wandered into the house, found the kitchen, and discovered up on the counter a bin full of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.
Right now he's upstairs sleeping all of the excitement off. I think he's got the right idea. I'm off to the couch.
I put Henry down for his nap around 2:15. He finally decided to stop banging on the walls and go to sleep at 4:45.
It's going to be a long, grump-filled evening.
Henry and I just got back from a pool party at Libby's. Also in attendance were Megan and Leo, and Phoebe and Otto. It took Henry a little while to get the nerve up to spend any significant amount of time in the pool. The shallow end is over his head so he was a bit apprehensive to be in the water much, so while everyone else was splashing around and spitting up in the water, I was chasing Henry around and around the pool.
Yesterday I got him a little inflatable boat to ride in because I had a feeling Henry wasn't going to be thrilled about the depth of the water. He didn't love it right off the bat, but by the end of our time at the pool he was so enamoured with it that he added the word "boat" to his vocabulary. He most particularly liked it when I'd crash him into the sides of the pool. He also very much enjoys it when you count to three and lift him out of the water real fast. Oh, the joyous shrieks, which eventually evolved into preemptive joyous shrieks because he was filled with joy over not just the action itself, but the anticipation.
Onto other business related to swimming and last weeks stroller accident, while Henry was shrieking earlier today I was able to get a really good look at his upper gum for amounts of time that have been impossible to achieve while brushing his teeth thanks to all the screaming and crying and general tight-lippedness. It looks okay except his top right tooth is exposed really far up so I'm thinking we need to take him to a dentist for an expert opinion as to whether that's a problem that will fix itself in terms of the gum growing back down or if we need to do something to help protect that tooth. Poor kid.
Henry's latest youtube obsessions:
Johnny Cash singing "Nasty Dan" for Oscar the Grouch. Henry always points the guitar out to me.
"The Wheels on the Bus" guitar lesson from iPlayMusic:
I think I see a Henry-sized guitar in the not-so-distance future...
Apparently he's going to be a big practical joker because he thinks this video is hilarious:
Should I be afraid?
Last Saturday evening we made a very exciting trip to our local hospital's emergency room. Henry took a little spill in his stroller and the aftermath was tear-filled and awfully bloody. His mouth received most of the impact with a brief detour down to his chin which got a bit scraped up. We had a hard enough time figuring out where he was bleeding from to be able to tell if he needed stitches that we decided to take him to the hospital so a doctor could check him out.
I had seen something on the news somewhere not that long ago that the average emergency room wait is four hours long, so I madly ran around the house trying to pack into a bag everything I could think of to keep him entertained. Anyone with a toddler knows this is a futile exercise, but I tried anyway. On the last trip up to Henry's room to grab some diapers, I spotted the frog he sleeps with every night, and although he hasn't shown any strong attachment to it in terms of it being a comfort, I grabbed it anyway and we jetted out the door.
Naturally we hit every red light on the way there.
There was hardly anyone in the waiting room and we were registered and talking to a nurse within five minutes. A few minutes after that, all three of us were squeezed onto a bed in a hospital room, trying to make each other feel better while waiting for a doctor. Since it was Saturday, Lawrence Welk was on our local PBS station, and wouldn't you know it was the only thing since the accident that had any calming effect on our kid. Lawrence Welk, with the bad renditions of Burt Bacharach songs and the hair and the costumes and the, ummm, yellow and the pale blue. And those late sixties early seventies orange and green. You know what I'm talking about. That's what quieted my kid down.
When the doctor came in, he felt around Henry's mouth, checked out his gums and teeth, cleaned him up a bit and said he looked pretty good. He didn't need stitches, his teeth were in good shape, and within a week or two he'd be perfectly fine. All of this attention to his sensitive mouth condition sent Henry into a crying jag that not even Lawrence Welk could penetrate. I tried to get him interested in some of the books and toys I had brought, but had no luck. Finally I asked him if he wanted his frog and he reached out, grabbed onto the frog, and clutched it to his chest until we were discharged and on our way home.
Sure enough, each day he's been progressively better. Saturday night was rough, but a little Tylenol and lots of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star"'s made it go a bit better. And today he was back to his old self, teasing me with cheddar bunnies and tearing around the house.
Amen.
You know that feeling you sometimes get when you're sitting on a roller coaster and you're about halfway up the big hill, and you're being cranked closer and closer to the top and you're suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to scream at the operator to stop the ride because you've just realized what a huge mistake it was to get on in the first place and you've changed your mind and would sincerely like to get off, thank you very much? Sometimes I feel like that when I'm driving.
Lately some of my free time has been spent thinking about and shopping for Henry's big birthday bash next month. I'm particularly excited about this year's birthday because he'll be a lot more aware of the concept. Well, he'll at least be able to more fully appreciate the cake he's going to be diving into than he did last year, and last year he really appreciated it. Anyway, I've been rummaging around amazon.com for ideas re: what kind of toys he might be interested in and started up a wish list for him so I could keep track of all of the possibilities. I pretty sure I could happily browse for toys for my kid forever. Is that really sad?
Speaking of cake, yesterday we went to Megan and Adrian's to celebrate the 4th of July with a bbq and some fireworks. They had cheesecake for dessert. Henry wasn't too sure about it, but when I kept insisting that it really was made of cheese and cake, two of his favorite things, he decided to give it a shot. He didn't like it right out of the gate, but two minutes later, he'd eaten his fair share of my piece. Three minutes later he'd moved on to eating his fair share of Adrian's. I overheard Adrian saying "Okay, Henry, you can have one more bite, but the rest is mine." Except Henry doesn't give up that easily and apparently Adrian does. Megan and I encouraged him to eat as much as possible in between giving Henry bites. That's the magic of toddlers; they teach you to eat fast and not enjoy your food at all.
Last night while chasing Henry around the house (Because it just wouldn't be a bedtime routine if one of us didn't have to tackle our kid to the floor in order to brush his teeth.) I tripped on nothing, skidded across our bedroom floor, overturned our rug, ran my right foot over a nail that was sticking up, and landed with a loud crash over my vanity table. Henry, sympathetic little guy that he is, immediately did an about face and ran into his bedroom, happy to have successfully avoided having his teeth brushed for at least another few minutes, while I inspected the carnage on the bottom of my foot. Dave came upstairs and I told him he'd have to do Henry's teeth. Naturally, Dave's reaction was "But I did his teeth this morning!" so I held my foot up and said I had just sliced it open. Dave took one look then suggested I go downstairs and elevate my foot for a while, and that he would take care of putting Henry to bed. Since he's a Dr., I decided not to argue with him.
I Neosporined and bandaged the gash, and thought "Gee this doesn't hurt as much as I feel like it should," which of course ushered in the post-shock stage of a big boo-boo, which is pain, and lots of it. Then I got mad. I hobbled into the kitchen, grabbed my hammer, limped upstairs, then hammered the hell out of the nail, after inspecting it carefully for any remanants of my foot, of course.
Stupid nail. It knows who's boss now.
There have been two major developments in our household of late, so hold on to your hats:
1) Henry now knows how to drink out of a straw. Because he's obviously a genius. After months of failed attempts, we were talking with a waitress at Perkins about it after she handed Henry a cup with a straw in it and then watched as Dave deftly whisked it away to transfer its contents to a sippy cup. She said her kid didn't use a straw until he was eight. Dave said hearing that made him feel a little better. Naturally, ten seconds after she walked away, we decided what the heck, let's try again for old time's sake, and after a few false starts Henry got the hang of it. I was clapping and jumping and high-fiving Dave like my kid had just discovered a way to reverse the effects of climate change using Pop Tarts, Cheez Whiz, and five billion used vinyl shower curtains. Henry looked pretty pleased with himself too. This opens up a whole new realm of fun to be had with his food. (Have I mentioned he likes to stick his face in his bowl of Cheerio's and eat however many happen to get stuck to his tongue? It's awesome!)
2) A few weeks ago I mentioned we were planning on buying a real bed for guests to sleep on when they come to visit. This may come as a shock to some, but we actually followed through and bought a mattress set on Saturday. It arrived half an hour ago. So we now officially have a guest bed. As an added bonus, Dave repaired the art deco headboard and footboard my parents got me as a graduation (from college) present so that they could be properly used for the first time ever. This means that not only are guests getting a proper mattress set to sleep on, but it's actually sitting on a bed frame, as opposed to the floor. Yep, things are getting pretty high class around here.