Tuesday, November 08, 2011

The dark side



Last night Ira and I went out after bedtime to pick up Leon, who was stranded in Darkest Rancho. Ira had just fallen asleep when I began strapping him into his car seat. He woke up mid-buckle and asked me what we were doing. I couldn't resist a little fooling.

First I tried this: "Good morning! It's time to go to school!"
Ira didn't buy it. "Nawwww, mom. What are we doing?"
Then I went with this one. "Ira, you farted and it smelled so bad that you have to sleep in the car tonight." Sounds totally plausable, right? Plus, potty humor is always a hit with him, but nope. He was too smart for that one too. I came clean. "We have to pick up dad." Ira replied "why can't dad pick himself up?" We all need a little pick me up now and then, don't we? I cannot tell you how fun it is to fool a kid. Have a kid, they're great! For tricking.

In other trickery, my trick leg has been acting up. It's not that serious, but it has been pretty nagging for the last year. It started off as shin splints as I was training for a race and I have a suspicion that it escalated to a stress fracture. It got better after the race, but never quite healed 100%. And although I haven't run since February of this year, anything from jumping jacks or a brisk walk is enough to aggravate it.

Enough has gotten to be enough and so I had an X-Ray done and this is what it looked like:


There is no visible fracture on the X-Ray, but the doc has ordered a bone scan to check for a tiny stress fracture. Until I know what's up, there is absolutely no running or jumping. So don't try to rile me up. Or if you do, I'll just...probably look at you with the disinterest of a lazy cat.

Monday, October 31, 2011

Could not have said it better



There's a certain voice of parent blogging I am drawn to: the realistic, dry and witty sort. Give me anti-glamor and spit up any day. I've been in those trenches and when I'm not grumbling about the unfair number of butts I have to wipe on a daily basis (three, because I want you to know), I love to laugh about it. I fancy myself a kind of a parenting war vet. Were you in the shit? I was in the shit and it was shit.

Here's a particularly wonderful post from a blog I found via Dooce (another favorite). It perfectly sums up so much of my parenting experience.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

FIVE



Five years ago (and a day now) I was huffing and puffing to squeeze this baby out. Well, that's how I remember it. More likely I was moaning and groaning and thinking "I cannot possibly push harder than I just pushed! Just reach in and pull it out! And please let it be just a huge burrito because I'm starving and you people won't let me eat."

After I survived childbirth, they actually let me bring tiny Ira home. I really had no idea what to do with a baby. I thought I did, but I didn't. Ira lived anyway and he's five now! He has wanted to be five for SO long. A few times earlier this year, he thought he could will it to be his birthday. There was a lot of crying and pleading, some magical thinking. I think I was just as happy as he was yesterday morning when I woke him up and said "good morning five-year old!"

One thing I love about this kid (among countless other things) is that he is funny. It might be mom and dad's influence by feeding him jokes or exposing him to different kinds of humor (all child appropriate of course) and explaining why it's funny, but a big part of it is he really just loves to laugh and to make people laugh. This exchange between him and Leon the other day had me in stitches.

Leon (packing up Ira's lunch in the morning): Ira, do you want lemonade in your lunch or [scans the fridge, doesn't see another choice] lemonade?

Ira (without missing a beat): Lemonade. No, wait. [long pause] I mean lemonade.

LOLZ.