Potpourri

I have very specific memories of things from my childhood.   I'm not sure if they're the original memory, or a memory of me remembering the memory again and again, each time overlaying the new memory on top of the prior one.    Even so, I do remember things and they seem just as real and tangible as they were when I remembered them years ago.

One memory is of the word "potpourri."  My elementary school had a large library.   There were books on tall shelves all the way around.   As I remember those shelves, they have all sorts of ominously large, boring looking, no-pictures, adult-type books on most of the walls.  This was an elementary school, so most likely the books were for children, but I suppose reference books and encyclopedias didn't look that fun to a child.

At one point, we went as a class to the library for our weekly visit.   This particular week the librarian had set up stations for us to visit.   We could go to any of the stations we wanted, in any order.   Sometimes you had to do a lot of work at the station and other times you could do something quick and easy.   When you finished with the task at any given station, you returned to the librarian or your teacher and got something like a star or a stamp.   At the end, perhaps we got a bigger star or a bigger stamp on our paper to commemorate our newly-expanded knowledge.   I don't remember that part.

What I do remember is the librarian telling us about the stations and getting us excited before she let us run off and start work.   She told us there was one station that had a special word.  The only thing you had to do was figure out how the word was pronounced and you got your reward.    "Hey," I thought, "that sounds easy.  I like easy."   I dashed off to the station when she released us and found out what the word was.

The trouble was, "potpourri" doesn't look hard to pronounce.   But there was a dictionary at the table and a sheet with how to interpret pronunciation symbols.    We had to look up the word and figure out how it was pronounced in the dictionary.  I did the research and happily ran back to the librarian and blurted out the pronunciation.   She smiled at me and told me I had gotten it correct.

I still drive by my elementary school when I take my children to school, but the library is gone.   The whole school is gone.   They tore down the original building and built a new school on the side where the playground had been.    That library seemed huge to me as a child, I wonder how big it would seem as an adult?

The Big Boy Update:  My son saw his sister was wearing leggings tonight before dinner.   He suddenly wanted leggings.  He was upset that he didn't have leggings.   He told me he wanted to get some leggings and could they be dolphin leggings, please?  I told him I'd look to see if could find some.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter came down in the middle of the night two nights ago.   She was upset about it being dark or she was cold, I wasn't sure because I was fairly asleep when she arrived.  I let her get into bed with us and told her she could stay for a few minutes until she got warm and then she could go back to her bed.   Our children have never slept with us.  That's been by intention.   A few minutes later, she got out of the bed and went back upstairs to her room without me saying anything.    I'm glad our children prefer and are happy and content in their own beds.

Fitness Facts:  I get a monthly update from the app I use to track my runs.  I was surprised at the numbers for March because I didn't remember running as much as it told me I did.   I ran over seventeen hours and tracked more than ninety miles.   Wow.

The Little Hammer That Could

My son went to a friend's house around the corner for a play date last week.   While he was there, the other two boys brought out their tool boxes and all three went down the hill behind the houses to do what I will stereotypically call, "boy things."  

They hammered on trees, they jabbed at roots and rocks with screwdrivers and they planned on felling several large, mature trees with arsenal of odds and ends in their tool boxes.   In short, they were having a great time.

I came home and thought how fun it would be to get my son a tool box and put some things in it for him to use.   I told both grandfathers and they plan on bringing some old things from their garages when they visit next.  In the meantime, I stopped at Lowes and got a very inexpensive, small tool box on the way home from an errand.  

I got a cheap, light mallet for him that I thought would be useful and then, on the way out, I walked by a display selling wooden car kits.    My son isn't up to the wooden car age yet, but I did see a child-sized hammer in the display that looked just my son's size.  

I got home with the tool box and the hammer and today I showed it to my son.  He ran outside and promptly used his new tools in the muddy plant bed my neighbor had spent all morning planting.   I directed him to the back yard and in short order, he and his friend, Rayan, were doing things with those tools—noisy things.

I was working inside on a computer thing that was fiercely holding my attention, but I went out from time to time to see what the commotion was.    Let me tell you, a tiny hammer in the hands of a small human being, does no less a hammer make.     There was destruction.

I had to redirect them multiple times because, hey, breaking two bricks into bits wasn't fun enough, they were planning on moving on to the remainder of the brick pile.  There were dents in things there should not have been dents in and one part of my husband's forge had an "invisible, unexplainable, no one did it" kind of accident happen to it.   Yeah...

Next time the tool kit comes out (which probably will be tomorrow,) I am going to have to be in a more watchful, advisory role it appears.

The Big Boy Update:  My son asked today if we knew what is favorite Transformer was.   We said we didn't know and found out it was Bumblebee.   He asked then if we knew who his second favorite Transformer was and again, we didn't know.  (Turns out it was Optimus Prime.)  He asked again, using the word, "third."   I wondered how far up he knew when he asked about his fourth favorite Transformer.   He got distracted with some food, but came back in a minute, asking about his sixth favorite.   Children absorb the most amazing pieces of information when you're not even trying for them to.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  I called my mother the other day and asked my daughter if she wanted to talk to her.   She said she did.   I handed her the phone—on speakerphone as always—and my daughter took the phone and tried to hook it into the collar of her shirt.   To free up my hands, I hook the phone into my collar and put it on speaker phone.   It was very cute watching her talk to Mimi with the phone hanging down from he little shirt.

Punch You in the Penis

This post is about our Easter Lunch today, but you wouldn't know it by the title; that part came at the end.  

I am fortunate to have had my family join us for Easter lunch today.  Sometimes, I forget to be thankful for things.  Not only are both my parents living, both of my in-laws are living.  No one hates each other and we genuinely like each other.    Today, all four of my children's grandparents were at Easter lunch with us.

My mother had gotten the ham and some sides for our meal.  My mother-in-law made a delicious salad and my husband made mashed potatoes and rolls.   I did nothing.    I chatted with people and laughed when my son got naked in the back yard because he remembered the hose was back on from last fall.  

Oh wait, I did the Easter baskets and the eggs.  Okay, I feel better, for a bit I thought I was an Easter Day Slob.  When my parents were on the way over, they called and with the help of my in-laws and husband, got the baskets placed at the front door and the eggs hidden in the front yard.

The baskets were exciting to the children and the eggs were great fun for them to find.   I tried to make them more challenging (as opposed to just lying on the grass) but they made quick work of them.    We went back in to try and control their sugar intake and prepare lunch (that's the bit where I became less-than-helpful.)

Uncle Jonathan arrived and lunch was served.   We all are well and after my children ate enough to qualify for dessert, we told them they could have something from their Easter baskets.   We asked them if they would maybe share a piece of their candy with us.   My daughter said she would like to share a piece of candy with us.   My son told us if we took a piece of his candy he was going to punch us in the penis.

The Big Boy Update:  My son asked me this afternoon on the playground while I was adjusting the height of the swing, "are you practicing to be a human?"

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:   My daughter asked me this morning, "is it still spring?"

Molluscum Contagiosum

My son has something called Molluscum Contagiosum.   It started out as s few bumps on his stomach that we texted a picture of to our neighbor, who is a doctor.   She diagnosed it immediately, saying it will resolve on it's own in six months or so and there's not much to do.    Then he got more.

What it is is a fungus, or basically small wart-like bumps.   But because my son has eczema, his skin is more susceptible to transmitting it to new locations on his body (hence the contagiosum part.)   It is transmittable to other people, but he's the one at real risk because of his compromised dermis.

The pediatrician said to go to a dermatologist.   We've had an appointment for several weeks and are on the wait list for a cancellation, but we're still not in.    There is no magic cure or treatment, but we need some non-internet-based advice because the bumps are increasing in numbers rather quickly.  

They're doing this because he's scratching them until they bleed (because they itch) and then he's transmitting them elsewhere on his body...including his penis now.  

He is so unhappy at times.   We have him on Claratin and Benadryl at night for the time being, per the pediatrician's recommendation, and we would like to find a way for him to stop spreading them, but it's hard for him.  

The Big Boy Update:   After his bath tonight he was miserable because he was so itchy.  I put some medicine on him to address the itching.   It was shaking and screaming because his discomfort was fairly extreme.   He said, "I need a zipper bag!"  I knew what he meant and went to get him a zip-up pajamas with footies.   He got in the, "bag" and was able to calm down.    I feel so badly for him when he itches.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter likes to select the beverage she wants from the newer machines that let you choose from what seems like a hundred choices.   For a while it was always something green, but lately she's branched out to something purple or pink.   The strawberry, carbonated water she picked the other day was quite good.

Fitness Update:  Ne shoes, ten miles and maybe the last real run before the marathon next week.  the new shoes did well on the pavement today.

Smoky

Our next-door neighbors had a bonfire tonight.   Wait, that's not right, they had a fire pit; bonfire makes it sound huge and this was just a few logs and a lot of smoke.    We saw them just as they were getting started and my children ran out because they hadn't seen them in a while and we ended staying up well past the children's bedtime to socialize and roast marshmallows.

Somehow (it was my fault) we all started doing cartwheels and hand stands.   Or, rather, all of us did except Stephen, the father, who just smiled and laughed at us.   My son got into the action and did forward rolls, cartwheels and rudimentary hand stands and we all cheered.

My daughter went home first, getting tired of the smoke and the late hour.   My son and I came later, smelling heavily of smoke.   The children are in bed now, still smelling of smoke but tired from a full day.   I'm still in my fire pit clothes as I write this, smelling liked smoked ribs and cartwheels.

The Big Boy Update:  We got home from school and as we opened the door from the garage, the dog greeted us as she always does, doing a stretch/bow with her front paws.   My son said, "look, Lucy's doing yoga."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  We were riding on the highway a few days ago and my daughter said, "look, that car is sad."   The car in front of us had tail lights and trunk/body lines that did, indeed, make it look like a sad face.

The Paper Pile

This isn't about a pile of papers on my desk.   It isn't about a pile of papers my husband has on his desk (although trust me, there's a tall pile there I could say some things about.)   It's not about paperwork I need to complete or stacks of coloring work my children have done.   It's about a pile of paper napkins in my pantry.

We use cloth hand towels at our house when we eat.   I started years ago with a few white cloths for cleaning purposes and gradually grew to more and more cloth towels being used for more and more purposes.   When there were infants around, there was an even greater need for cloth hand towels for cleaning up all manner of things baby.

Today, we reach for a cloth hand towel for our napkin at meals.   I wash them after meals with the ones we used during the cooking and cleaning process and put them back in the "cloth drawer" when clean.

When we get drive-through food we get napkins.   When we order food at a restaurant for take-away and bring it home, we get napkins.   Commonly, there are more napkins that we need.   So, we put them in a stack in the pantry for when we need napkins next.  

Only we never get around to using them.    The stack is over two inches high and contains a mishmash of differently shaped and colored napkins with logos from many restaurants.

We do use paper towels from time to time.   Well, I say that; I use one every so-often, but other people come to the house and use them.   I wonder if  I could put a pile of napkins out and they'd use them instead?

The Big Boy Update:  I asked my son about his morning at lunch.   It was Grandparents day at school and Mimi and Gramps had come to his classroom to see him and look at what he did in the classroom.   I asked him how it went and then I asked him what work he showed Mimi.   He said, "that's enough talking," looked down and kept eating his food.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Hair Crazy.  My daughter's hair can go all kinds of crazy.   I think I may finally have a formula that works for her.   Wash, condition, spray heat protector spray, dry well and voila, the next morning her hair is calm and smooth looking.   Then, to add a bonus to the formula, I've found hair bands she will leave in that don't bother her.  

Fitness Update:  Six miles this morning in my Hoka shoes.   This afternoon, I returned my Hoka shoes to the store.   I got this fancy brand because they have thick, fluffy soles that make it feel like you're running on a marshmallow.   Many people love these shoes and I, too, would have preferred them except one of the shoes rubbed a blister on my foot.   I tried several things to get around the blister issue, but none worked for longer distances.   I took them back to the store I get most of my shoes from and through their guarantee, was able to exchange them for a pair of Brooks shoes designed for street running.   I hope to wear them for the upcoming Rock and Roll Marathon I'm running in two weeks.

That Wretched Rattle

There was a noise.   It was a little noise, but it was a noise that shouldn't have been there.   It was a noise that happened almost regularly, but not always.   And most infuriating of all, it was a noise I couldn't locate.

The minivan is a highly-useful vehicle I am so glad we decided to get.   With very few exceptions, I am completely and totally happy with it.   About a month ago the car developed a rattle.   It should have been a very easy rattle to figure out, because when you're driving, it's clear there's something like a marble in the cup holder in the center console.    Only there wasn't.

There are four cup holders in the center console and a big, open area underneath.   I looked through everything in there and there was nothing that seemed to be the culprit.   I found a "trash can ring" thing in the back of the center console that lifted up and was designed to hold a trash bag, only lifted up it didn't change the marble rattling sound I kept hearing.

Today I had just had it with the left turn, right turn rattle.   (I named it that because it rattled every time you turned.)   I pulled into a large parking lot and parked.  I pulled everything out of the center console.  I pulled everything out of the little compartment in the front of the dash, even though that wasn't where the sound was coming from.    Then I drove around the parking lot again, taking quick turns and swearing because the rattle was still there.

Was there a secret compartment in the center console?   I found a handle and pulled and discovered it was the handled that released the center console altogether.   I took it and pushed it into the back of the car and discovered a metal hook stuck underneath.  "AH HA!" (I said that loudly to myself in the car.)  "I would have never found that if I hadn't gotten really annoyed," I thought.    I drove off to confirm, doing another loop and heard the rattle, just like before, unchanged and persistently there.  

There was more swearing.   I took the free-standing center console and jangled it around, but I heard nothing from it.   I put it back in place and got into the back seat.   I shut the sliding door to the left and tried to get around the car seat to see if anything had been dropped into the compartments there.   I found goo.   I found crumbs.   And there was a french fry.

I closed the door to the right and checked there and found a coin stuck to the bottom of a pouch with some unknown substance.   Then, in the cup holder right at floor level, I found a half-inch long piece of green crayon.   Hard green crayon that had been rolling around every time I turned left or right.

I was too sticky to say, "AH HA!" again, but I was victorious, and that was enough.   I was able to get to the wipes easily, because everything we stored in the center console was sitting on the passenger seat.

The car was much quieter on the way home.   That could have been because there were no children in it, but regardless, there was no rattle.

The Big Boy Update:  I asked my son if he had had any new lessons in school lately.   He told me he had been working with the red and blue rods.  I asked him if he could tell me more about the work.   He was silent for a bit and then he said, "I'm telling you something with my mind."  I explained that was called, "telepathy" and that I was impressed.   He told me he was telling me how he worked with the red and blue rods.   (I still don't know how he works with the red and blue rods.)

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter came down for breakfast and looked at the sun coming in the windows.  She said, "too bright!" and shut the first blind.   Then she said, "too bright!" as she shut each subsequent blind.