The Good and the Bad

I've been struggling the last few days, wondering how to write another post, because there are many different things I could write about. So how do I write without sounding jumbled? I still haven't come up with any kind of solution. Just bear with me.

The last few days of Bryan's break have been slow and wonderful. A much needed rejuvenation for all of us, including the kids. Spending every day with their daddy has been a special treat, and I'm sad to see the end is here already. When Bryan isn't writing a paper or waxing up some teeth, we are wandering around the toy section of various stores, letting our kids let loose a bit. We spent time looking at all of the lizards, birds, turtles, hamsters, and fish at the pet store while Daddy was getting a haircut. The four of us hang out together having tickle fights and playing hide and seek. There's no doubt about it: we love having Daddy home with us.

The only blemish in our great week, was actually a pretty horrible and traumatizing thing for me. And little Alex of course. I was making dinner Thursday night when I heard, "thump, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, thump, BAM! silence." Within a 3 or 4 second time frame, my heart stopped, I pieced together, "The stairs. The door to the stairs is open. That was Alex falling," and I flew through the room and around the corner to see my poor baby boy looking up from the second to the bottom stair, and his daddy (who had flown just ahead of me), scooping him up just as Alex began to scream and sob. I cried too, as we looked him over for any damage. He, thank God, is just fine.


He was shaken up of course, but other than a big goose egg on his head, he was okay. In fact, the little tumbler was running around and laughing less than half an hour after the fall. I, on the other hand, was a wreck all night. I laid in bed for a few hours after everyone else fell asleep, with horrible imaginary images of my little boy falling. Scariest moment of my parenting life, by far. And you better believe, I will never forget to check that door. Ever again.

                                                                                   
                                                                                   

The bump doesn't show up that well in the pictures, but it was big and sad. It's all gone now, though. Just a tiny bruise left. Poor baby. I have this immense relief that it was nothing worse, and I hold him a little bit tighter now. Which, I'm happy to say, he doesn't mind.

 

Spring Break

Last Friday, we packed up the kids and drove to Grandma and Grandpa's house for part of Bryan's Spring Break. Which by the way, does NOT correlate with Easter anymore, why? It's not cool, School. Not cool. It would have made it even nicer of a trip if we could have spent Easter with family. Regardless, we still had a fun time.

Bryan and I went on an actual date for the first time in months. You'll never believe the extraordinary fun that we had. I mean, come on. Does it seriously get any better than wandering around furniture and appliance stores, dreaming about the things we will actually be able to buy in a few years, and making fun of the hideous things that, I assume, must be bought bysomebody out there? And then going through the McDonald's drive-thru for a shamrock shake and a chocolate chip cookie that we eat in the parking lot next door? No. It does not get any better than that. Especially not when you top it off with an hour's worth of driving to and from the store, which we filled up nicely with talking back and forth. Ha! I love our lame dates. We actually did have a nice time though. Don't make fun.

And we all had a great time at Grandma and Grandpa's house. Our kids slept relatively well; better than they've managed to before at Mama and Papa's house (what Jeanie calls them), which helped us all enjoy ourselves much better. I run a lot happier on 7-8 hours of sleep, even if it's interrupted, than I do on 4-5.  We all gained about ten pounds or so in the 4 and a half days we were there (Grandma keeps us well fed). I saw and talked to old friends at church. Jean got to play for hours upon hours with her aunt's Barbies. Bryan got to relax and put away school for a few days. And Alex reveled in the dozens of new things to play with, climb on, and eat (like chocolate pop tarts for breakfast). Completely worth the drive! Even with the four of us and our german shepherd crammed into our Dodge Neon.

As much as I loved being there with family, I gotta say, i hate packing and unpacking. Especially for four people. It's very stressful for me: Am I forgetting something for someone? Why do we need so much stuff? Do we have enough stuff? And running over and all around my house a hundred times, grabbing all the things we need. Also, I'm ready for someone to invent the teleporter . . . anyone? If I could just skip the part where we have to endure the crying of our children because they can never be satisfied with anything in the car for more than three minutes, that'd be great. There's only so many toys I can pack (or am willing to pack) in the car, and only so many songs I can sing to keep a 1 and 3 year old entertained for more than a few hours.

There was one thing I did forget to pack: my camera. I am bummed that we didn't get any pictures - especially of the last day. We went to an arcade and the kids were adorable with how much fun they were having. With our winning tickets, Jean bought a pack of giant Smarties, a tiny soccer ball eraser, and a black rubber snake. All of which, she picked out on her own. I understand the candy, and maybe even the eraser (which she promptly lost before we made it home). But the snake? It's a scary snake. It's got the tongue and some scary teeth, with its mouth wide open. And she loves it. Whatever, weirdo. As long as you are happy, you can have all the creepy rubber snakes you want. Anyway, since I forgot the camera, here's a picture of my cute kids from a couple of weeks ago. I sure love them.