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You might already know this, but Advil for Children is amazing stuff. Last night it knocked my son's temperature down 3 degrees. He went from a state of vegetation on the couch to running around and playing like usual. But that dang croupy cough. It's keeping him (and me) up at night.
My husband has it too. Chills, cough...
So far I'm in the clear, except for extreme exhaustion. It's tiring being the caretaker! Is it nap time yet?
Off to drink some more Emergen-C...
"Hi Mr. Ingraham!"
"I'm doing great!"
So began the phone conversation my son had with an elderly neighbor who called our house. My son insisted that he talk to the man, so I passed him the phone. They continued...
"I'm 3 right now. I'll be 4 on my next birthday..."
"I'm having my birthday at Old MacDonald's.* I'd like to invite you to my birthday!"
That's his latest thing. He wants to invite everyone he knows to his birthday party (which will be next month). EVERYONE. Today in the car, he told me that he wants to go see the woman who cuts his hair, so that he can invite her to his birthday party.
It will be our first "kid" party. And we have one very excited little boy!
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* Yes, that's what he calls McDonald's. And yes, that's where we're having his party. I know, I know. Not the kind of food I like to serve my child. But try to arrange a reasonably priced party for children (and this is for March in upstate NY... it has to be an indoor thing) where kids can run and climb and slide and be kids... hence, a meal and sliding at McD's...
Last night I caught this piece on "math wars" on the evening news. Since I went to college for math and later for education, I was very interested in this segment. In the story, the reporter talks about the way math basics are being taught and mentions "traditional" and "fuzzy" methods.
One of people they show in the segment is in favor of fuzzy math, also known as reform math, or new-new math (figuring out approximate answers in non-traditional ways), saying that "the digital age is still coming." Maybe I'm showing my age, but what does that have to do with anything? Yes, calculators and computers can give you answers in a flash, but if you don't understand how to think and where the answers come from, how is that a good thing? What am I missing?
I know a lot of people hate math. Does making it fuzzy change that? Does it make math more appealing when you're finding "an" answer, rather than "the" answer?
Talk to me! ( Yes, you too, my teacher friends who are lurking here! I know you have opinions on this!)
You know you're an online shopper when your UPS guy stops to make a delivery at Staples, spots you getting into your car, and runs up to you to say hello by reciting your entire street address.
I guess in the old days it was the milkman who could do this, huh?
I think I'm becoming a food snob. If it's too salty, I don't like it. If it's greasy, it grosses me out. If it tastes fake, why bother? And if it's loaded with white flour & sugar, I know I'll love it going down, but I'll pay the price when the rush wears off.
A couple weeks ago, my little guy and I were home alone at dinnertime. I decided I didn't want to cook, so we went out to a local franchise restaurant. The service was extremely slow, the food was overpriced, and it just tasted BAD. Is it just me, or do you find this to be the case when you go out too?
Continue reading "Deceptive or sneaky? Just give me healthy!" »
We returned home after a day of work at the city house, to a locked home. I opened the door, and all was quiet. Where was Grandma? My son? Maybe they'd both fallen asleep? But I didn't hear any deep breathing or snoring, as would be expected. I stuck my head back outside to report that the house was very quiet.
"Maybe they've been abducted" was my husband's response.
Ha ha.
Or so I thought. Til I looked further.
At nearly 5 p.m., my little boy and his Grandma were nowhere to be found. Not curled up on the couch together. Not upstairs. All that was left were toys strewn everywhere, and a lunch table that looked like it was abandoned mid-meal.
Hmm.
Their winter gear was gone, so I figured they were out for a walk or sled ride. Grandma came by train, and my car was still in the driveway, so I knew they hadn't taken off for a ride. I went back out and looked up and down the street. I knew they wouldn't go far, and it didn't take me long to realize they were nowhere in sight.
My husband was putting things away in the garage when I reported: "They're GONE."
Suddenly his little crack wasn't so funny, and I flipped into panic mode. Fortunately, my husband's the level-headed one in crisis, and he immediately devised our divide and conquer strategy.
"Get in the car and drive where they'd walk. I'll check across the street with the neighbors." He tossed me his charged cell phone (knowing mine was dead) so we could stay in touch, and I was off.
I drove to the end of our street first, having spotted a snowbank that I knew my son would love if he were out in his snowsuit. What if something happened to Grandma and she's collapsed behind that mound of snow? What if my son was then left outside alone without adult supervision?
What if? What if? What if?
My heart raced as I approached the snowbank in my car. I looked for tracks in the snow. Footprints. Sled marks. Whatever. I saw none. I knew they hadn't gone that way. Relieved and frightened at the same time, I turned around and headed the other way. Off to neighboring streets where they may have gone walking. Again I looked for footprints on the snow-covered sidewalk. Again, I saw none.
Where the hell were they??
My mind raced to worst-case-scenario and I had to force myself to breathe. With petrified determination, I turned down another street, fighting back tears, gripping the wheel and my lower lip tighter than I've ever needed to.
Then the cell phone rang.
"They're across the street."
Oh dear God. Thank you.
Grandma had accidentally locked them out of our house, and she didn't take a key. So they'd gone to the neighbors' house to call us and find out if there was a spare somewhere. The neighbors had my cell number and left 3 messages on my dead phone. Naturally I didn't get the messages. They'd called my husband's work cell too -- the only cell number they had for him. Not his personal cell phone, which was the one we had with us!
So my son and his Grandma were stranded at the neighbors' for 4 hours that day. Luckily they have a 4-year-old boy and a boatload of toys. My little boy had a marvelous day.
And me? I kicked myself for my very bad habit of leaving my cell phone on in my purse, where the battery invariably goes dead.
But mostly I'm unbelievably grateful that this tale had a happy ending...
