The Loud Shirt

So Gary purchases a new shirt at his favorite store (Cabela's), but is uncertain of its appropriateness for work, seeing as it is green and red plaid. He and I are talking about this early in the morning, as he's getting ready for work, while I'm still laying in bed, trying to wake up.

"Green and red plaid?" I ask.
"Yeah."
"Sounds kinda loud," I reply.
"Maybe. Take a look at it and let me know what you think. It's in a bag here on the chair."

He's done getting dressed, so he heads out to the kitchen. Now, it's still dark in the room, cold in the house, and I am in no mood to move from under the covers, so I stay where I am. Sarah's door opens, and she comes in, sleepy eyed, with serious bedhead.

"Dad got a shirt?" she asks.
"Yeah."
"He wants you to look at it? Why?"
"He's afraid the plaid might be too loud. It's on the chair if you want to see it," I sleepily mumble. I hear the rustling of the bag, and the sound of the shirt coming out of the bag.

"It is too loud?" she asks, with a question in her voice.
"I don't know - I can't see it. Here, bring it to me."

She ignores me. "The shirt is too loud?" she says again. At this point, I sit up so I can see what's going on at the foot of the bed, and see my daughter holding the shirt, with her head cocked... listening to the shirt.

I'm not making these things up. This is my life!

I wasn't able to define "loudness" as it applies to clothes in a way that she understood (I tried!), so eventually she gave up and moved on and headed to the kitchen, where I heard her quizzing my husband about the loud shirt.

Life must be so baffling to her! It's amazing that she even still tries to understand these rules that make no sense. Slang and idioms will be the end of us both...

Happy Birthday, Mom

So today is my mom's birthday. Mom, you are and always have been an awesome example for me. I hope you have a great day! I love you.

Lets not leave out the grandkids... as is becoming our tradition, here are video greetings:

Not an actual BUG...

So Sarah and I spent last evening in the ER of Children's Hospital. Not where I'd like to spend my Sunday evening, but, we all know that there are some unappealing clauses in the parenting contract.

Sarah is fine - she was just dehydrated after a day of vomiting, and needed some IV fluids. It never ceases to amaze me the change one little bag of saline can make. She went from walking dead to the life of the ER. Makes a good case for staying current on your water intake.

Anyway, after blood work and x-rays, the diagnosis was stomach flu. This was the conclusion that I had reached earlier in the day, resulting in the following conversation:

"I think you're going to be fine, honey. You just have a stomach bug."
"A stomach bug?"
"Yes, honey. You'll be sick today, but you will start to feel better soon."
"A stomach BUG? A BUG?"

A sinking feeling settles in... we've been down a similar path before. "No, honey, not a real bug. That's just an expression. It just means a germ that makes you get sick."
"I do not have a bug in my stomach?"
"No, no bug."
"It is a germ?"
"Yes, a germ that makes your tummy feel sick and you throw up."
"A bug is a germ?"

The conversation got really messy after that, and it took me a few more minutes to assure her that there were not insects in her abdomen. Sigh. Will I ever learn??

Anyway, not a great day... especially from my car's perspective. My poor Saab was on the receiving end of vomit in the morning, and pee in the evening on the way home from the hospital. Well, we were sent there because she wasn't urinating, so I guess the hospital can consider the visit a success. Me, I'm just glad I have leather seats, and lots of anti-bacterial wipes.

Just overheard: "Mom, I POOPED! I POOPED! Pooping makes me feel BETTER! The stomach bug is GONE!"

I sure hope so.

Boxing Champ

So Madilyn has found another fave on the Wii... boxing. She has rocketed to the top of the charts with her boxing skill, and her style has earned its own name in our house. "The Madilyn" is complete offense, a super high-speed battering ram approach that's almost unstoppable. When Gary and I box, we have to agree not to use "The Madilyn", since there's really nothing you can do to thwart the attack except wait for your opponent's arms to tire out. Turns out that a 7 year old's arms have a lot more energy than that of a 40-something... hence the Champion status.

For my seester

Today is my sister's birthday, and the kids send these greetings, which are too big to e-mail. (Darn that new camera! I'm going to have to read the manual on how to take lower res movies!)

Hope you enjoy your day, seester! I went and saw Twilight again today in your honor. Still lovin' it! Love you -Happy Birthday!