The best ever

We had a busy friend and family-filled weekend. We started with dinner at friends' house on Friday night where the boys were introduced to the notion that three girly-looking girls can be rough and tumble kids who like to push each other down the stairs in laundry baskets and generally engage in play that makes my kids feel right at home.

On Saturday the boys enjoyed Valentine's treats, lunch at the neighbors', taking flowers to great-grandma and lots of candy. Today they went with me to another friend's house where Andrew got to play with his buddy, Jackson, who has moved along to kindergarten and is always a sure thing for a good time.

With all that fun, Andrew informed me tonight at bedtime that it had been "his best weekend ever." That's a pretty big statement from Mr. Difficult-to-Impress. I asked him why and he said that he like seeing Jackson and that most of all he liked sleeping in his sleeping bag at Grandma and PaRon's last night and reading his new Texas State Travel Guide.

He's still a little bothered that we retrieved him this morning before he got to paint with PaRon and we read the Texas Visitor Guide like it was a novel tonight. It's been put UNDER his bookcase for safekeeping because he doesn't want Thomas to mess with it.

Being 5 1/2 is a good gig if you can get it. I'll happily settle for mom of 5 1/2.

Get in line, girls

Thomas has been battling a cough and the cough has won. After two trips to the doctor in a span of 48-hours he started prednisone last night and we're maxing out his breathing treatments. This is full-on warfare. When any child of mine is moaning, choking, gurgling and coughing continually in his sleep for hours on end and is so oxygen-deprived that he's delusionally telling us about the tunnels in his room at midnight, it becomes a no-holds-barred type of engagement.

He technically could have gone to school today but we thought he could use a day of rest and that the other kids probably didn't need to listen to him. The kid literally hasn't slept in three days so we hoped that he might expend less energy away from the mania of Preschool 1. Grandma and PaRon were willing to watch him so I could attend a way too long meeting today. He definitely had a great day there and was pleased to have drawn that assignment.

When I arrived to escort him home I learned that he had been forced into child labor. Only in this particular case it was his idea and he was delighted to have been drafted. Grandma has a couple of small utility ladders that he loves to use while he "helps" her with housework. Apparently after the dusting today he offered to do a little tub scrubbing. You'll see that it too involved the ladders and oh boy, did he have fun.

As you can see, he scrubs, he rinses, he wrings and he's darn cute. He is currently exhibiting some prednisone steriod rage and he's coughing up his left lung as I write, but this young man is a catch, ladies. Start your bidding.

Joint custody

Early this morning Mark called me over to the computer to show me, quite proudly, that he had changed the template for this humble little blog. He had found a design that was several lovely shades of blue and had a very simple, clean layout. He loved it. I hated it. It was early and I might have freaked out about hating it. I feel ownership over this place because I'm the one who populates it with random, rambling stories and he feels ownership because, well, he started it and it does carry his name.

He, understandably, recoiled and was offended that I was harsh in my critique because he had been trying to help. I have told him several times in recent months that I want some cool design for this site that looks fun and sophisticated and is aesthetically appealing in all ways. I tried to create a banner but when I uploaded it to Blogger it was distorted and I got frustrated and just began whining that I wanted him to fix it. So, he thought he had.

When he very kindly agreed to revert back to the original template I had been using, he didn't know that I had customized the colors so it didn't look quite the same and he said he thought the black/white look was boring. So...pink and purple it is...for now...in honor of Valentine's Day...until we work out the kinks in the joint custody arrangement. In the meantime, if anyone out there has any mad skills with Photoshop and HTML code that you're interested in lending my direction, do be in touch!

Is H&R Block hiring?

Andrew apparently reported to one of his favorite sitters tonight that he had a secret and she needed to come close to hear it. She leaned down and he said, in his most serious outdoor whisper, "Sally, if I do your taxes for you, I get to keep your money!"

We can only assume that he overheard someone talking about completing their taxes, which means he's been hanging around somewhere else. Since it's not yet April 10, no one around here has even discussed such nonsense.

Playing catch-up. It's a long one. Hang with me.

I'm constantly playing catch-up. I'm certain I'm not at all alone in that feeling. You know the drill. It's a bit like the plate spinning circus act where one thing gets attention until something else is about to fall. It's not pretty.

Obviously this blog has not been on the list for the last few weeks.

I intended to recap my visit to my sister's last week. I envisioned that I would make time while I was there, yet I didn't ever get to it. She did a great job right here so I think I'm moving along. The only things I would add are that:

• my sister is 34-weeks pregnant and can still walk, shop, haul groceries and move tables with the best of us. She should probably take it easier, actually.
  
• I would also add that I loved getting to spend enough time with my nephew that I now feel as though I really know him. There is something about being in a kid's home environment that really helps complete the picture. He's a delightful little person and I would never tire of hearing him tell me he loves me. (He did tell me that. Kind of a lot. :-) It really hurt my feelings.)

My boys all did great while I was gone with heavy assistance from the grandpa taxi to and from school and swimming. Mark kept up with the laundry and everyone was happy and healthy when I returned. Thomas did seem to discover "why?" while I was away. I feel as though I've answered that question a lot in the last three days. He's also just more conversational everyday. Mark and I could hardly watch the cliffhanger ending of tonight's Super Bowl because Thomas' running commentary about the game was hilarious. He was convinced that Oklahoma was playing because the Cards were wearing red. We gave up telling him otherwise and just went with it. He desperately wants to be one of the guys.

Another outcome from my trip was the certain realization that our mattress is shot. I had been suspicious for months but after four days on a new, softer mattress my suspicions were confirmed. When I mentioned this to Mark he readily agreed. We've been sleeping on a handed-down one that is at least 12-years-old, possibly older, and it's done. Our first signs should have been that we've both replaced our pillows in recent months, thinking that was the problem. We corrected the real problem today with a new mattress purchase. I walked through the furniture store seeing approximately 14 other ways I would prefer to spend that money but I think this is the grown-up way to go. Perhaps my childhood dresser will look better if my back doesn't hurt while I'm looking?

We also had the pleasure today of giving Mark's friend, Kevin, a ride to the Lawrence airport where his plane was tethered, waiting for him to fly it home to Austin. The boys both sat in the plane and then we watched him takeoff. He built it himself and it's a tiny, sportscar looking thing. To me, terrifyingly tiny, but the boys thought it was very cool.

After a busy day of mattress shopping and airplane watching, we decided to host an intimate Super Bowl party for the four of us tonight. Thomas and I made football Rice Krispie treats and we had hot dogs and cheese dip for dinner. I subscribed to Cooking Light yesterday so I somehow felt justified.

Thomas is my kitchen helper. When he sees action, he scoots his chair across the room faster than you can imagine. Tonight he insisted upon putting on his cowboy boots before working.

Andrew wanted in on the icing part of the process because he wanted to eat them.

Thomas took the work of putting the laces on the balls very seriously. He called me over to tell me that "this one" had too much. I'll let you be the judge of exactly which one that might have been.