Helping Hand makes Headlines... Again!

AWESOME.

Sorry for the fine print... LINK coming soon!!

Summah Tahm.....

I know. I KNOW. The blog is behind. What else is new. But its summer, and my time behind a computer is limited. We're outside, we're in the pool, we're not hunkered down and hibernating like we do in the winter. See?


And here is His Brother, peeking out the window for The Boy. He doesn't like to be separated from him.




SO until I get my computer back from the kind folks at Net Xcellence (I get 30% off my bill for letting them advertise here....) here are a few one-liners. More to come, I promise, including July Fourth, a weekend getaway to the big city, and a walk in the rain. Exciting stuff, I know.

-He was cold. Asked me to warm up the car. I said I would, and got, “Okay. Go warm that baby up.”

-I said something about His Brother. He goes, “You mean Fatty McGee?”

-I told him I had to take His Brother to the doctor. He goes, “Because he’s such a pig?” No, son. That’s not an official diagnosis.

-On the Fourth of July, fireworks were still going off around 11 p.m. The Boy says, “That has GOT to STOP. Don’t they know we’ve got a BABY trying to sleep?”

-Grandpa was playing legos with him. The Boy says, “Grandpa, JUST SO YOU KNOW, not all of these are legos. Just so you know.”

-He is always curious about the weather. They talk about it at school and have someone is the weather watcher every day. He came in my room to tell me, “Mom, tomorrow its gonna be 94 in Terre Hope.”

-I mentioned something to him and he responded with “Yeah? Good luck with that.”

-And if this one isn’t proof that he’s my son, I don’t know what could prove it. Grandma and I were playing ping pong. He hollers: “Now.... from the east.... over here.... GRANDMAAAAAW BARTLETT!!!!” (Then, pointing to me) “AAAAAND.... over here... from the west....we’ve got.... MOMMMAAAA BARTLETT!!!!”

-He’s been reading to His Brother at night, which is a cool thing to watch. It gives him the time to practice his reading, and His Brother will listen to anything The Boy says. He reads these little books he gets at school and he’s supposed to color each page of the story. One page wasn’t colored and I asked why it wasn’t colored. He goes, “Meh... I don’t know... I was probably jacking around.”

-He’s just getting over strep throat and informed me that he puked. I thought it was current, turns out, he had puked the night before. So I said, wait... you just got up and puked in the night and didn’t tell anyone? He goes, “I got up, puked, and moved on with my life.”

-And this one... yes, this will earn me Mother of the Year: He was telling me about how, when some kids lose their teeth, they have to ask their Dad to help pull them. “But I didn’t have to do that, Mom. I did it myself. I kinda screwed Daddy on that.” Son, don’t say screwed. Just kind of overall... not a nice word to use. Sigh.

News on His Brother - approaching 18 months and still not walking. Through the beauty of First Steps, he’s been evaluated for therapy and will start soon. In the meantime, we’re working with him and he’s made a lot of progress! Really, we’re forcing him to walk and he’s getting much stronger.

So, I’m sure it won’t take much time at all for him to be getting into The Boy’s things. When that happens, I’m expecting this brotherly love I currently see between the two of them to perhaps go south. We’ll see.

Cast AWAY

Two weeks in a fiberglass cast was enough for me.

Well, make that one week. One week for the first cast. See, turns out you’re NOT supposed to stick things down there in the event it itches. The Doc kind of frowns on that. So let’s say your leg is itching and you stick, I don’t know, a mixing spoon down there. Now you got yourself a problem because all of the gauze is bunched up and pulled away from the casting, and then the ortho nurse and cast tech laugh when they take off your cast and see what you have done, creating indentations into your skin and effecting your circulation. So that first cast came off, and a new one went on.

And another week on crutches with the new one, and this week I sweet talked the doctor into putting me back in my walking boot. Really, just out of convenience. It’s too hard for me to take a bath, be with the kids on crutches and generally just live my life. So the boot is back, and I have to say, I am thankful.

Four weeks in this plastic thing and I’m planning to be back to my old self, and auditioning for Dancing with the Stars.

And in the time I’ve been down, I’ve learned to SLOW DOWN. I move to fast and to be incapacitated forces you to take a break, not accomplish 42 things in one minute and ask for help when you need it. But what can I say? I’m a wife/mom/daughter/sister/friend/neighbor et al. That’s how I roll. Too many things to do, and there is no time for broken bones.

So one surgery with one plate, five screws, two casts and one walking boot later, on June 30 I will be doing cartwheels in my front yard, celebrating my good health.

And hopefully, I won’t slip.

Memorial Day 2010

It was hot. We listened to the Greatest Spectacle in Racing, grilled out, swam at the pool (well, I sat by the pool) and took a boat ride.

The Boy had his own private pool and nearby cabana. (Note: the sign says, “no girls allowed.”)




Then later, he made an exception.

("My mom is the only one" complete with a photo of me)
Mimi made snowcones.

His brother experienced the heat of summer with his head full of curls, and I couldn’t help but try out pigtails on my beautiful baby boy.



And he’ll kill me for this one day, but I’m okay with that.

Motherhood

This year's mother's day started out nice. I was invited by the Boy to attend Muffins with Mom at school. Now last year, I was downright giddy for this event. Got all dressed up, had the camera ready to go, let my office know I'd be late coming in because I had an event at school. With my SON. For MOTHER'S DAY. I was about to be honored and this event could not be missed.

So last year we got there and I went to get some juice, and he looked around, saw his buddies playing and said six little words.

"You can go to work now," he announced.

Sigh. So I took a muffin with me, shoved it in my purse next to my camera, which went untouched.

So this year I didn't think much of Muffins with Mom, because obviously The Boy was too cool for me. I'd drop him off and move on with my day. But his teacher, knowing my heartbreak last year, talked it up, and we enjoyed a nice breakfast together and even caught a picture (photo courtesy of Miss Katie, who knew my feelings were at stake here).
Mother's Day, 2010. The Boy, age 5, Momma, age unknown.

So we were off to a good start. We celebrated Mother's Day on Saturday because Kyle had to work on Sunday. We had a chilly baseball game where I saw The Boy make several good hits, a few good catches and run like the wind. (Never mind that at one point, I was watching him at bat, and my mother-in-law says, "OH MY GOD! DYLAN IS ON THE FIELD!" He had escaped to the third baseline. I grabbed him and said, "NOW WHERE IS HIS MOTHER?" and lurked back to my lawn chair). I received two very sweet cards from three very special men in my life, and we decided for Mother's Day I'd go pick out some flowers to plant, but with the weather being chilly, we tabled it for another weekend.

So on Sunday, I was on my own with the two boys. The weather was beautiful and I had a list of things to accomplish, which was fine with me, because putting lines through items on a to do list brings me great happiness. And one of those items is mowing the lawn. The Boy was busy with sidewalk chalk and bubbles, while His Brother sat in his exersaucer in the driveway and played.

Two strips of the lawn mowed.... ah.... immediate gratification.

And then I slipped. Let go of the mower, heard something snap,and fell on my keester.

My dear friends Suzanne and Drew were on their way over anyway and pulled up to me laying in my front yard. It was decided that Drew and I would go to the ER while Suzanne and Max stayed with my boys.

The Boy and Max played while Suzanne put His Brother down and waited on news from us.

Three hours and three x-rays later, a broken ankle, walking boot, grass stains up my back and behind, clipped grass on the hospital bed and in Suzanne's car, and now, after an ortho visit, surgery scheduled for next week.



All in the name of marking things off my to do list.

And while we were at the ER, Drew and I were passing the time. He has a trivia app. on his phone.

Wouldn't you know it.

Shopping

Ahhh... The Boy.

Usually when we shop and I have both monkeys with me, I get one of those enormous carts with the two seats in it, so everyone is strapped in and there is no funny business. I want to get in and out and its hard enough with His Brother seeing all this food and The Boy asking if we can buy this and that...

The thing is like driving a semi through my one car detached garage. Anyway.

So recently we went and they were out of the big carts which meant I had to use a regular one. The Boy complains about not wanting to sit in the "big part" and wants to sit in the little part. No dice... where will I put your brother? "You can just hold him!" Sigh... so finally I said, you're 85 years old, you can walk. I have to put your brother in the small part because he can't walk.

This of course resulted in whining, PA-LEEZE can I ride in the cart... FINALLY I said, no, but do you want to take pictures on my phone?

He went for it. So, I present to you, a trip to the grocery through The Boy's eyes.

A nice shot of my rear.


His Brother in the coveted part of the cart. Note me inspecting something to the right.

How about some bagels?

The aisle.

The parking lot.

Let me know if you'd like an 8x10.