Broken wrist 1.0 was middle child careening down a ski slope on a mountain bike this last summer.
Broken wrist 2.0 was oldest child playing all-out basketball at school and falling down. Just today.
We got to the doctor's office, waited and waited, then got to the radiology department just after they no longer accept wet-read orders. Meaning they could xray it but could not read it right away and tell us if it was broken. Huh. Hmm.
Time was of the essence. We've got a holiday staring us down here people! We've got plans! We've got non-refundable tickets!
Not to give away any secrets of having friends who are doctors or orthopedists, but when you need to call in a favor, you do.
No cast, just a brace, thank goodness. And we owe someone a couple bottles of really nice wine.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Boys, Baseball, Train and Bad Coffee
I brought my laptop but never even got a chance to open it up.
Between eating ridiculously large pancakes, trying to sleep with a train going by all night long blaring it's horn, four baseball games, and driving 760 miles, all in two days, there just wasn't time.
It was a lot of fun though. Fun games to watch, great parents to hang out with, it was a good road trip. I am becoming a real baseball fan. I'm scaring myself.
I'm not a fan, however, of the pervasive culture of crappy junk food that permeates baseball. If they had anything decent or healthy to eat at the baseball park, I wouldn't mind not being able to bring my own snacks and drinks. It wouldn't be so painful to pay exorbitant prices to eat there. But it is nasty nasty crap. The coffee cost more than Starbucks, there was no cream, only non-dairy creamer, and each time I took a sip I involuntarily winced it was so bad.
On the other hand, you can buy a beer, which is perfectly good because they don't make it there, and sit and watch your son play baseball. I personally would prefer a glass of wine, but I shudder at the thought of what selection they would offer.
OK, I'm a bit of a food snob. I admit it. But my son didn't want to eat anything there either. Why does it seem that so many baseball people have no taste buds?
I'm thinking that I'm going to invent an illness for my son, like gluten and free-radicals intolerance, so we can bring our own food into these places.
Between eating ridiculously large pancakes, trying to sleep with a train going by all night long blaring it's horn, four baseball games, and driving 760 miles, all in two days, there just wasn't time.
It was a lot of fun though. Fun games to watch, great parents to hang out with, it was a good road trip. I am becoming a real baseball fan. I'm scaring myself.
I'm not a fan, however, of the pervasive culture of crappy junk food that permeates baseball. If they had anything decent or healthy to eat at the baseball park, I wouldn't mind not being able to bring my own snacks and drinks. It wouldn't be so painful to pay exorbitant prices to eat there. But it is nasty nasty crap. The coffee cost more than Starbucks, there was no cream, only non-dairy creamer, and each time I took a sip I involuntarily winced it was so bad.
On the other hand, you can buy a beer, which is perfectly good because they don't make it there, and sit and watch your son play baseball. I personally would prefer a glass of wine, but I shudder at the thought of what selection they would offer.
OK, I'm a bit of a food snob. I admit it. But my son didn't want to eat anything there either. Why does it seem that so many baseball people have no taste buds?
I'm thinking that I'm going to invent an illness for my son, like gluten and free-radicals intolerance, so we can bring our own food into these places.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Off again!
I am off again.
Off to a U11 Baseball tournament in Riverside California. That's right, a weekend road trip with my son.
This time I am leaving my husband with instructions to put ointment in the dog's eye twice a day and to leach the ground-up acorns in the refrigerator once a day.
In exchange I am leaving him with a freshly roasted turkey breast and homemade cranberry sauce. I'm not sure if he will see this as a good trade or not.
I look forward to posting over the weekend about being immersed in this very testosterone-infused weekend. Should be fun!
Note to my husband: Don't eat the acorn stuff. It's not ready until Monday.
Off to a U11 Baseball tournament in Riverside California. That's right, a weekend road trip with my son.
This time I am leaving my husband with instructions to put ointment in the dog's eye twice a day and to leach the ground-up acorns in the refrigerator once a day.
In exchange I am leaving him with a freshly roasted turkey breast and homemade cranberry sauce. I'm not sure if he will see this as a good trade or not.
I look forward to posting over the weekend about being immersed in this very testosterone-infused weekend. Should be fun!
Note to my husband: Don't eat the acorn stuff. It's not ready until Monday.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
We Saw 13
We took our boys to see the musical Thirteen tonight. It was put on by our local Children's Musical Theater, CMTSJ. There were about ten kids from our school in the production. I really enjoyed the show, both the story and watching children I know singing and dancing on stage.
For the first few minutes of the show, I almost had a heart attack though.
We were sitting rather far away and I mistook one of the lead girls for one of my son's friends. A friend of my eleven year old son, with whom he has been exchanging enough texts to fill a monosyllabic novel, or alternatively, makes us very very glad we got the unlimited plan. I'm not sure they talk to each other at school though. But they are masters of the three word question and answer exchange. I digress. Anyhow, I was having heart palpitations watching this girl on stage singing and poised and, well, kind of sexy and grown up-looking, tossing her hair and hips around and looking just like a teenager. I thought, my god, this cannot be the girl my ELEVEN year old son texts constantly! I am not ready for this! My husband was having a similar reaction. We clutched at each other, rather panicked. Then we realized that it really was a teenager and not the 6th grader we thought it was. Big sigh of relief.
My youngest son was literally at the edge of his seat for the whole show. His favorite line from the show was, "We all have a little more homework to do." He said that is one of the truest lines he has ever heard.
Toward the end of the show the actors and actresses say what they did on their thirteenth birthday. There were various things, then one girl says, "I signed a virginity pledge!" There was a rather long silence, when my nine year old turned to me and asked, "A WHAT?" in his not so quiet voice. Getting no immediate response from me, he thought I didn't hear. "A WHAT? SHE DID WHAT? WHAT DID SHE SAY?" Trust me, I heard him and so did everyone sitting within three or four rows. While my husband cracked up beside me, we shushed him and watched the rest of the show. I know that was a temporary reprieve and he will bring it up again soon. Like when we are standing in line at Starbucks or at the grocery store. Or hanging out with his younger cousins at the Thanksgiving table. "Hey mom, what is a virginity pledge anyway?"
After the show, we stood outside and congratulated the friends in the show. The aforementioned friend who is a girl (but not a girlfriend) was there, and my middle son awkwardly mumbled something to her, trying to look at her while trying not to look at her and not sure what to do with his body that was telling him to run away and stay put at the same time. Well, at least I know he will tell her "great job" in a text. Yes, we all have a little more homework to do.
Find more videos like this on 13 The Musical Fansite
For the first few minutes of the show, I almost had a heart attack though.
We were sitting rather far away and I mistook one of the lead girls for one of my son's friends. A friend of my eleven year old son, with whom he has been exchanging enough texts to fill a monosyllabic novel, or alternatively, makes us very very glad we got the unlimited plan. I'm not sure they talk to each other at school though. But they are masters of the three word question and answer exchange. I digress. Anyhow, I was having heart palpitations watching this girl on stage singing and poised and, well, kind of sexy and grown up-looking, tossing her hair and hips around and looking just like a teenager. I thought, my god, this cannot be the girl my ELEVEN year old son texts constantly! I am not ready for this! My husband was having a similar reaction. We clutched at each other, rather panicked. Then we realized that it really was a teenager and not the 6th grader we thought it was. Big sigh of relief.
My youngest son was literally at the edge of his seat for the whole show. His favorite line from the show was, "We all have a little more homework to do." He said that is one of the truest lines he has ever heard.
Toward the end of the show the actors and actresses say what they did on their thirteenth birthday. There were various things, then one girl says, "I signed a virginity pledge!" There was a rather long silence, when my nine year old turned to me and asked, "A WHAT?" in his not so quiet voice. Getting no immediate response from me, he thought I didn't hear. "A WHAT? SHE DID WHAT? WHAT DID SHE SAY?" Trust me, I heard him and so did everyone sitting within three or four rows. While my husband cracked up beside me, we shushed him and watched the rest of the show. I know that was a temporary reprieve and he will bring it up again soon. Like when we are standing in line at Starbucks or at the grocery store. Or hanging out with his younger cousins at the Thanksgiving table. "Hey mom, what is a virginity pledge anyway?"
After the show, we stood outside and congratulated the friends in the show. The aforementioned friend who is a girl (but not a girlfriend) was there, and my middle son awkwardly mumbled something to her, trying to look at her while trying not to look at her and not sure what to do with his body that was telling him to run away and stay put at the same time. Well, at least I know he will tell her "great job" in a text. Yes, we all have a little more homework to do.
Find more videos like this on 13 The Musical Fansite
Monday, November 16, 2009
I'm Back!
I am back from my trip.
I had a great time. I am relaxed. I am tan, but not too tan. I have done a cranial flush and have forgotten when basketball practices are and that I was supposed to be in science class today helping to grind acorns. I feasted on Hawaiian fish and indulged in fruity drinks with umbrellas, some very weak and one very strong. I picked kohlrabi on the side of a volcano. I spent more time in the hot tub than is recommended on the sign nearby. I visited my favorite kooky coffee place, Java Jazz, and was happy to see the depraved Barbie-themed decorations are still there. I saw tattoos that were not right, and I talked to honeymooners still in shock that they just got married. I got briefly trapped in the back room of the Peter Max gallery in Lahaina with a saleswoman who enjoyed using the dimmer switch way too much. I watched every sunset and none of the sunrises.
And I came back to . . . three boys and a husband who were very glad to see me. Nothing suffered while I was away, everyone did just fine. But each boy found a moment to tell me it was nice to have me back, and I know they meant it because there was a little extra squeeze in the hug. Everyone appreciated me just a bit more. And I appreciate them just a bit more.
So I think I should go to Hawaii a little more often.
I had a great time. I am relaxed. I am tan, but not too tan. I have done a cranial flush and have forgotten when basketball practices are and that I was supposed to be in science class today helping to grind acorns. I feasted on Hawaiian fish and indulged in fruity drinks with umbrellas, some very weak and one very strong. I picked kohlrabi on the side of a volcano. I spent more time in the hot tub than is recommended on the sign nearby. I visited my favorite kooky coffee place, Java Jazz, and was happy to see the depraved Barbie-themed decorations are still there. I saw tattoos that were not right, and I talked to honeymooners still in shock that they just got married. I got briefly trapped in the back room of the Peter Max gallery in Lahaina with a saleswoman who enjoyed using the dimmer switch way too much. I watched every sunset and none of the sunrises.
And I came back to . . . three boys and a husband who were very glad to see me. Nothing suffered while I was away, everyone did just fine. But each boy found a moment to tell me it was nice to have me back, and I know they meant it because there was a little extra squeeze in the hug. Everyone appreciated me just a bit more. And I appreciate them just a bit more.
So I think I should go to Hawaii a little more often.
Halloween 2009
Click here to view these pictures larger
Elvis on a bad hair day, a hippie, and a referee! This is a very clunky way of putting a photo here of Halloween but I was a dumbshit and forgot my own camera, so this is what I get. I have to share this photo because I'm not sure how much longer all the boys will be dressing up. The older two were less interested in Halloween this year. I'm not sure what it is, too much effort?
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