no energy for a title

This week, or barf fest 2007 as it is being more accurately called around here (well, in my own head at least), has been hellish. Wait, it's only Wednesday? I suppose it could go either direction from here then. I managed to get really sick over the weekend. I have no idea where I got it but I'll just tell you that I projectile vomited all over our bed, something I am sure I haven't done since I was about 7. It lasted way too long for me and then hit Henry. He was a champ though. He woke up vomiting at 5am this morning and by 1pm was screaming for a grilled cheese sandwich and Thai food. Jason convinced him to try saltines to start and he demanded 5 at a time (on his plate that is) no less. This kid of mine, who usually really doesn't care about food turned into an eating machine (no, we didn't give him grilled cheese or Thai) and was bouncing around the room within an hour. He was still fine as of bed time so I have my fingers crossed. Jason weathered it reasonably, dealing with us that is and thankfully hasn't gotten sick himself. I am still a bit out of it but I think I am actually well and just dealing with the after effects of major dehydration and sleep deprivation. In the midst of it all Mia had an all time bad night for no reason in particular and the dog took to peeing on things and narrowly made it outside barfing herself this morning (just a coincidence I expect). My boss' last day of work for a couple weeks was today so I have been trying to keep myself engaged in a bunch of end-of-the year crap at work as well. Jason just made it back from the post office, a week and a half later than I expected to have gifts sent but I think they will make it. They were just little homemade things and photos of the kids for our grandparents but I expect they will appreciate it. This is the kind of boring ass post I tend not to write lately but I felt like writing something and this is all I've got.

From the Henry files, when he's not demanding or growling (oh god, the growling. I will go insane if I get into it), he has been very charming lately, like today when he was trying to read (he can't read) something embroidered on a quilt, I told him what it said and that his great-grandma had made it for him when he was a baby. He looked at me, nodded and very sincerely said, "oh, yeah, that was nice of her." A few days ago he looked at the Christmas tree (that has been in the same place for almost a month) and said, "our tree is so nice mommy. thank you for getting it for us." He's also gotten really into looking me in the eyes and saying, "I love you mommy" with a big smile. I feel the need to qualify that it's just amazing to me how real and sincere he sounds in these moments. He's not playing around or just copying what he's heard. Either he really is a genuine little person or he is a better actor than I even want to imagine.

love of my life

Particularly out of context, it is easy to look at other people and feel relieved that our own lives are easier/better/saner than theirs. The previous conversation has been a placeholder of sorts for me. Since it is not easy, and probably not generally advisable, to discuss much about one's relationship with one's spouse in a public forum I figured I should keep my distance from the topic. I have been thinking a lot abut my primary relationship these days though and working on ways for us to spend more time together and make each other happier. We really are very lucky but I think that every relationship takes effort and work to be great sometimes. Even though neither of us can see the future, I think we are going to make it and I am so very glad.

and finally

The other night I asked him if he thought our marriage was going to survive and he said he couldn't tell the future. That's bad, right? Like, really bad.

and then some

seriously, he doesn't even want to be around me. he's always either working, working on the house, or on his computer or in front of the tv. he does watch the kids sometimes, usually just one at a time though, too i suppose.

recently overheard

when we smoke pot i think i am cleaver and witty. my husband thinks i'm annoying. it's quite a conundrum.

progress? maybe not

This is for dear reader Kristi who has been sweet enough to keep up with my 3-year-old’s goofy humor. Henry is no longer saying holy crap but this weekend, when presented a large piece of steaming cheese pizza, exclaimed, “this is freakin’ hot!” And, oh how he laughed. Then yesterday at lunch he told me he was going to “slurp the heck out of this!” I don’t remember what this was but again with the laughter. Every time he says something like that he asks us to take note. He gets that it’s a new and funny (to him) thing. I don’t really mind as I am prone to constant outbursts and have done a pretty good job dialing back the profanity. Mostly though he has proven to tire of the little exclamations and these should fall out of favor soon. The one thing he won’t drop though is all of the damn poop this and poopy that. He substitutes for words in songs constantly and cackles at his hilarity. That I am getting really sick of. All I can say is that the week-long visit with Jason’s parents and grandmother this month should be really interesting.

the beginning of a lovely thing

We are not people who usually have a Christmas tree before December rolls around, let alone the weekend after Thanksgiving, but when we got home from our little family trip on Saturday, everyone slept in and woke up to a beautiful, clear Sunday so we took a drive out to a tree farm we have been visiting for a few years. I have mixed feelings about cutting down trees but also have a sort of magical relationship with Christmas trees from my childhood (and a bunch of rationalizations about this particular place). We really like the people who own the farm and Henry was even more thrilled this year than last. We ended up with a lovely, modestly tall tree and he made it clear that it would be decorated immediately.
view from the farm
henry was ever so happy
mia in the front carrier

Over the years that we have been together, rituals have emerged around the whole tree deal and Jason usually does the installation and I do the decorating. I think that’s sort of the way it works in both of our families. I also think it’s sort of bullshit but have come to realize that forcing someone to help decorate a tree (or do anything that is supposed to be fun) when they don’t want to is pointless. So, I have come to enjoy my little ritual of stringing the lights and unpacking the ornaments and distributing them in my own little way.

Last year Henry ran back and forth hanging a few ornaments but mostly was interested in playing with a couple in particular and I believe it only took a couple of days before one was broken. This year however he was completely enamored of the whole process and keep exclaiming, “look at our tree! It’s so beautiful!” He even listened intently as I told him the story behind ornaments and directed his hanging. It was such a pleasure and yet another exercise in letting go. As he bunched and clumped similar balls and stars with no regard for overall composition or even distribution I figured that I would just go back and rearrange after he went to sleep. When we were done though I didn’t change a thing. Those bottom branches remind me of his joy and involvement every day and today, a week and a half later, he pointed out to me again how he made that one on the right longer (using 5 hangers linked together) with a big smile on his face. I am certain that I am going to like this new ritual of sharing the process with my children for years to come far more than I enjoyed the balance and control, as is the case with most things in my life now.

it has a whole story in and of itself
this one says "jason '77" on the back
thanks to jason's grandmother
henry's handiwork, note the extra long hanger chain
still pleased with ourselves the next day