Monthly Archives: December 2008

CTD Round Two?

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It looks like, now that three out of four of us seemed to have escaped the illness that beset us this week, my daughter may be coming down with it.  The waking up moaning in pain is clue number one.  The half-asleep cries of “my belly hurts” and “I don’t want to throw up” are the next clues.

Ah, we thought she would escape it.  I suppose she may feel ill because she ate too much candy.  Or maybe she has some other intestinal woes.  Could be, right?  But, really, who am I kidding?  She’s going to toss the cookies tonight.  It is just a matter of time.

Unless she fights it off.  Could happen.  But it looks to be another long night.

I hate to see my sweet kid in agony.  Maybe she, like myself, will appreciate the benefit of a cleansing by vomiting.  My guess, however, is that that ain’t happenin’.

Get ready, plumbing.  We’ll be calling on you tonight.

CTD

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That is the way I felt a couple of nights ago.  As I spent some time preparing details for my school trip the next morning, my gut started to speak to me.  It wasn’t providing a soliloquy on the merits of the meager dinner I had just consumed.  It wasn’t philosophizing on my eating habits.  It was poking me with a stick and shouting obscenities.

After I went to bed I did not stay in it long.  I rolled around and rolled around.  Eventually I was up and emptying my innards.  I got to know the plumbing fixtures, at least one of them, quite well.  We had some conversations, the toilet and I;  first I made some rather loud utterances, then it responded with a rather consistent flushing sound response.  It was civil, if not gentlemanly.

I spent yesterday in a weak and achy stupor.  Wasn’t that a good time.  It gave me time to reflect on how healthy it is to purge one’s system occasionally.  I was purged.  I was as empty as I could get.  My painful belly gave me pause.  Was I about to continue this process?  Or was I just hungry?  It turns out I was hungry.

I was not alone in my experience.  My wife and my son enjoyed the fine winter evening as well, out of bed often to check out the night’s wonders.  They, too, enjoyed the benefit of indoor plumbing.  My daughter did not have quite the same experience, but she was a witness, even crying in distress at one point, wondering if we would all be OK.

That next day we all stayed home, although my daughter never did get sick.  Lucky her.  She might as well have taken the bus, but neither of her parents would have been up for collecting her were her body to opt for the purging plan.  She was fine today as well, it turns out.  She is a healthy bugger, even without the cleansing.

Today I was home again.  As late as 2:00 I debated whether I should keep a meeting I had set for 5:00, but it wasn’t going to happen.  Too dizzy.  I still don’t feel 100%, after a day rest that included a two-hour nap, although I feel like I should fake it a little so my wife doesn’t think I am a total wuss.  Food has helped.  Lots of water has helped.  Hopefully another night’s sleep will do the trick.  I can’t miss another day of work.  It is way too much of a hassle to miss even one, and I’ve got three missed days under my belt this month with last week’s snow day.

No more circling the drain for me.  I am rising to the top now.  Soon I will swimming about, flush with health.  So to speak.

Good Question

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My son asked me this question while he was sitting in the bathroom and I was standing next to him:

Daddy, why does the world seem so teeny when it’s really so big?

It was one of those parenting questions to which I had no quick answer.  I gave him some lame answer about how he is kind of a small boy but sometimes seems like a really big boy.

I am still thinking over a good answer.  I am proud of him for asking such a good question.  I hope he manages to keep asking good questions throughout his life.

Back to Back Birthdays

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Yesterday we went to a birthday party out in Middlesex.  It was high quality.  The weather was fine, albeit a little cold, so sledding on the crusty snow was the main event when we arrived.  As far as I know no one got seriously hurt, the runaway sleds were all tracked down, the puppy didn’t bite anyone hard enough to draw blood, and all of the hot chocolate was consumed.  The adults in the party were even offered the choice of peppermint schnapps (for the hot chocolate) or scotch whiskey (for the eggnog).  Fun was had by all.

Eventually things moved indoors.  We gathered at the foot of both the twenty foot tall Christmas tree (no joke) and the indoor climbing wall.  This same living room also offered a mountain view with what couldn’t have been a more perfect sunset.  Cake was then to be had with messy faces all around the children and we were off down the greasy hill in the dark.  We stopped to eat in Richmond at On the Rise Bakery to sample their expanded menu.  Showers for the children topped off a grand winter (fall, technically) day.

Today we were off to a morning party, north to Winooski instead of east this time.  It was a different affair, yet equally rewarding for the bounty of child foibles and affectionate commentary.  These youngsters had the opportunity, after various healthy snacks (really–bagels and carrots and pears were eaten with happy abandon) to smash a pinata.  That took some doing.  Apparently the construction phase of the pinata was dominated by fears that these small yet enthusiastic children would tear into the thing with so much gusto that it would spill its goods on the first swing.  Multiple layers of paper mache helped to ease these fears, yet the choice of the large wooden spoon (larger than most wooden spoons, but still, a wooden spoon, not a broom handle or a bat or something with more leverage) and the reduced swing area  in the low-ceilinged basement meant multiple turns for each child yielded zero treats on the floor.

A couple parents took some swings, the second of them sending the top half of the spoon caroming through the crowd and skittering across the basement floor.  After some “whoa”ing, a search for a baton substitute yielded a hatchet, a two-by-four, and finally, a small square scrap of lumber, just right for small hands.  That, ultimately, with more parental aid, did the trick.  Candy and prizes poured forth and an orderly retrieval took place.

Both of these birthday events meant good fun for the children (friends, some old and some new, as well as new toys to check out, and plenty of kid-friendly eats) and quality time for the adults.  I spend too little time in the company of adults in a social setting.  I have always been less a social creature than many, but time to bat around ideas and share stories is pretty key.  Getting in some good conversation and humor helped energize me.  The schnapps might have helped a little at the first party, and the two extra cups of coffee (it had whipped cream and cinnamon!) at the second may have helped oil the social gears.  But I think I did it pretty much by myself.

I made friends all by myself!  See what I’m saying?  Even my everyday language has turned into kid-speak.  I really do need to make sure I get out more.

Singalong and Wrapped Stuff

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Last night we went to the town library for a singalong.  It was sporadically advertised and not on their web site, our usual source of programming information.  We did find out late yesterday afternoon that it was on, so we rallied the kids after dinner and headed over.

My daughter’s music teacher was the piano player.  She was friendly and good with the children and had, perhaps to the detriment of the event, a fine singing voice.  We used a songbook from 1960, still in use after four decades.  This particular songbook contained lots of songs for people who sing well.  Think The First Noel and We Three Kings.  We did sing Frosty the Snowman (not in the book) and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (also not in the book) and had a generally good time.

The children colored the pages left on the back table with crayons and markers.  They also offered snacks–cookies and punch.  Of course, the last thing our children needed was sweets.  Candy canes, chocolate, cookies at home.  They have been getting it all these days.  Bad parents, mostly, I suppose.  But they had some cookies, and so did I.  All the other kids did as well.

There were many children there.  They seemed to have fun.  We even checked out some new books while we were there.  Our previous books were overdue, as usual.  We had to use my wife’s libary card.  I couldn’t find my wallet before we left.  I looked and looked and I just figured I must have left it in jacket pocket or some such.  I didn’t find it last night.

This morning it showed up.  Our kids have been into pretending to wrap presents lately.  They have been wrapping everything they can get their hands on.  We recently had to impose a rule that they only wrap art that they make themselves.  Things kept going missing.  My wallet, despite the prohibition on wrapping objects that might have some value if hidden and unable to be found, was the latest object to disappear into the wrapping hole.

I was with-wallet today and used it when I took my son to the Hinesburg winter farmer’s market.  I only purchased two donuts, along with some squash.  I ate most of the donuts, maybe subconsciously to get back at him for hiding my wallet, but really more because, again, he has lots of sweets these days.  But then, maybe I do, too.

Ankle Biter, Face Biter

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We did have a snow day after all today. This meant I had more flexibility in my schedule than I had planned, so I went for a run mid-morning. The snow had let up, but started again after I left the house. It was slippery but things started off well.

Gravel Road, Easy Running

Gravel Road, Easy Running

I ran down Leavensworth Road. Two cars (two!) passed me before I got to the section that is not plowed. Then it got interesting. I was doing that thing that dogs do when they come outside and don’t know about snow, picking their feet up high and looking ridiculous. I had to step high.

End of the Plowing

End of the Plowing

I have run in snow before and usually I find it fun, but we got a crust of ice, a thin one but a crust, between layers of snow. It cut my ankles. I took it for a while, tried to be tough, then realized that this was silly. Why hurt myself while getting wet in the falling snow?

Running in the Snow

Running in the Snow

So I turned back and ran down O’Neil Road, plowed the length of it. That was fine, except by then the snow had turned to sleet. It slapped me in the cheeks, except the little grains were so tiny it felt like it was biting me rather than slapping me. I took that for a while too but turned back again. By now I was laughing out loud–for real–the situation was so absurd. Why do I do this? I asked myself. Oh yeah, it’s fun.

Back Home

Back Home

It was snow falling again by the time I returned home. I appreciated the warm fire all the more when I got inside. Of course, I had to shovel a bit before I went in. That made me laugh as well. Ah, snow. How can I help but laugh?

Snow Day Tomorrow?

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I have been watching the weather closely today.  Supposedly we are getting a big storm.  It will start snowing some time tonight.  It was forecast to have started snowing by 4:00.  Didn’t happen.  Now the National Weather Service says it will start by 7:00.  That is right about now.  All the predictions say we are looking at half a foot of snow.  I hope so.

Problem is, I am scheduled to work at a high school tomorrow.  If we get a snow day, or even a delay, I need to reschedule.  That won’t be simple.  Every day the rest of this month is booked for me.  So I have the classic dilemma.  On one hand, lots of snow means poor driving which means (potentially) no school tomorrow which, as noted, will be a pain the snowplow.  On the other hand, it could be a snow day.  I mean, no school.  How great is that?

OK, the down side of the snow day thing and the excitement of no school is that I still have to work.  I have plenty to do and I will need to do it, even if I take a break to sled with the children for a bit.  But still, no school.  Sleeping in a little.  Making a snowman.  Hot chocolate after getting cold and frosty.  That is plain old good stuff.

I look forward to waking up and seeing what we’ve got.  I will be checking my school’s web site first thing.  My curiosity will keep me from sleeping in after all.  I’ll crank up the fire and sip an espresso drink and get down to work while my wife takes the children outside.  Or, if the storm fizzles, I will head to school.  I suppose that wouldn’t be so bad.

But we might have a snow day.  Yeah baby.

Dumb Question, Elvis

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On the album playing now, the collection of Elvis Christmas tunes we only listen to this time of year, The King asks us this question:

Oh why can’t every day be like Christmas?  Why can’t this feeling go on endlessly?

I know this isn’t a serious question.  It is a question that most would say requires no thoughtful response.  I, however, feel that a response to the master of the swinging hips is in order.  Why can’t every day be like Christmas?  I’ll tell you.

If every day were like Christmas we would, at least in the good old USA, all be broke.  How could you have a Christmas savings club if you only had 24 hours, instead of 364 days, to save?

If every day were like Christmas, we would have massive credit card debts and even more, if it is possible, UPOs* filling up our garages and basements and closets.  Who needs another snow globe or bottle of aftershave?  Who needs another gift basket of high quality and delicious and useful Vermont products?  Don’t we have enough sweaters?

If every day were like Christmas, retailers wouldn’t have the bump in sales that comes from the end of the year spending blitz.  How would they survive if they had to depend on regular sales for their unsustainable continuous growth?  But, you might say, wouldn’t Christmas every day mean huge sales every day?  I am afraid not, as we would hit our credit limits, even those of us with FICO scores of 770.

This feeling can’t go on endlessly because then we would be so nice to each other that we would learn, as a collective population, to care too much.  We could not afford to make sure everyone had decent health care, or heat in the winter, or enough to eat.  That would be too expensive.  Then again, it might mean that all of us started to see paying taxes as our duty as citizens of a free democracy.  That, however, would mean that the Republican Party would go belly up.  Think of the job losses.

If this feeling were to go on endlessly, we would be happier, would we not?  Therapists would go out of business.  Big Pharma would lose millions in sales.  Then again, if we stopped spending so much on Prozac and Ambien, maybe we could spend more on junk to wrap up.  We could afford all those tasty and well-crafted Vermont products.  But that, however, would mean a lot of stress on Vermonters who would have a difficult time keeping up with the demand.  They would need things like Prozac and Ambien to make it through.

Can you see the problem here?

Sorry, Elvis.  It just can’t be.

*Unnecessary Plastic Objects

Crafty Rascals

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My wife was at a holiday party this evening so I was home with the children. I made them dinner. We ate together. We toasted several things, including their mother. We missed her.

I cleaned up. I asked them to be good to each other while I did so, and they did that. They took out some art supplies and worked with them. I came around the corner after cleaning, and listening with only one ear, to discover what they created.

We have a funky ride on toy that they loop around the stairs on the wood floor. They love it. They decided to decorate it tonight. In case you can’t see it very clearly, we’ve got a montage of sea creatures and party clothes. How’s that for a mix?

Art Car

Art Car

Colder than…

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When it gets this cold I am not quite sure how to end that phrase.  Colder than what?  An Antarctic winter?  Dry ice?  Titan‘s atmosphere?  If it were warmer today I could say it felt colder than that day in December…

We all waited for the bus together this morning.  We wore snow pants and down jackets and scarves.  Also, it was windy.  And did I mention it was five degrees?  Frostbitten cheeks were in the works.  We didn’t linger.

As I write this, 8:00 pm, the temperature is 3 degrees.  Maybe we will hit the zero mark.  It could be in the 50’s later this week.  Warmer than…

Whatever.