Wednesday, 18 November 2009


Hannah came down with a really high high you ask? I really don't know because the new thermometer I bought this month to replace the two I lost doesn't work anymore. The Mom-ometer in my hand assessed her at 103 degrees, at least. Motrin and Tylenol weren't helping much and she spent the entire day listlessly on the couch declining all invitations to eat.

Jonathan spent the whole of the night before waking every 2 hours because he was miserable and needed to make sure his mother was kept apprised of the situation.

Michelle had to drive 70 miles away this morning to get her military ID issued, so I stayed home with both kids after taking Logan to school at 7:15.

Hannah was feeling so poorly she wanted me to sit by her, but I HAD to clear up the kitchen before sitting down and then stayed there for hours as I stared at the messy living room and agonized over what a disaster the bedrooms had become. Sometimes, worrying about when I was going to find time to look for some critical paperwork for refinancing the house helped to distract me from those uncomfortable thoughts.

Nearing 11:00 a.m., Jonathan was rallying and I invited him to come in the front so I could mow the lawn. That lasted 10 minutes before I had to take the tear streaked lamb inside and cuddle him. The lawn mower is still waiting for me.

After Michelle returned and laid down with Jonathan for his nap, I started dinner and made another attempt to clear away the debris in the kitchen. Then it was time to pick up Logan. He came home starving. A hot dog, a banana, a Popsicle and several cookies were not enough to tame his hunger before dinner was ready.

When Jonathan awoke, he had wet the bed, so the sheets had to be washed and I didn't remember to make the bed until it was bed time, of course.

Ever have one of those days?

Tuesday, 3 November 2009

Einstein, Oracles and Tickles

Soooooooooo, Logan has reached the magical age of five; supposedly the age Einstein was when he began talking. Anyone who had ever heard Logan's odd speech would tell me not to worry, and would trot out the story about Einstein. However, the Speech teacher at school is itching to work with Logan because he defies "normal" speech abnormalities and she is looking forward to the challenge.

To illustrate: On the way to school the other day, Logan told me that his sacred guru Mrs. Brown, Kinder teacher and Oracle of all Wisdom in the Universe, would give him a tickle if he did something or other (that part was unclear). I repeated back to him what I heard: "Mrs. Brown will give you a tickle?!" That sounded fun. I began to imagine Mrs. Brown giving a friendly tickle when the kids had accomplished something wonderful (or whatever).
"NO. A TICK-oo!" Happy imaginings abruptly ended. I ruminated a bit more on the part of his story I thought I had understood and wondered what the Great and Powerful Mrs. Brown (actually pronounce Mist-oo Bwown, a la Logan) would give that would make him sound so happy and in addition sounded like "tick-oo". As I'm rummaging around in my head, he continues to correct me by repeating "tick-oo" several more times, just louder in order to break through my barrier of ignorance.

Now, I'm not sure I can take credit for translating "tick-oo", because Hannah was in the car with us and she is the best interpretor, bar none, of Logan's language. The point IS, we learned that Mist-oo Bwown would give Stickers to anyone who mumblemumblemumbled (we never got to deciphering that). Eureka! It's like translating parts of the Rosetta Stone. There is so much satisfaction that comes when we have a break through.