he's back.

Henry came home last night.  He was exhausted after a long day of travel.  Thankfully his dad had washed all of his clothes so I didn't have to worry about doing it.  We spent the evening practically glued to one another.  Seriously.  Henry insisted on eating dinner while sitting on my lap.  I didn't really object much.  At all.  I'm trying to think of the last time he ate while sitting on my lap.  Probably not since he was able to sit in a high chair on his own.  If I left the room to oh, say, go to the bathroom, he would cry and beg me to come back.  It was heart breaking and heart warming all at once.  I realized that it was kind of nice to pee without an audience while he was gone.  Not so nice that I want him to go away again.  When I left him at day care this morning the hugs and kisses went on for a long time, at my request.  I can't wait to pick him up after school so we can play some more and then go to swim class and then eat ice cream and then play in the sandbox and then take a bath and then brush teeth and then feed Thunderstruck (did I mention he got a fish a few weeks ago?) and then read books and then give goodnight kisses.  It's good to be reminded how much I love our life together.

vacation drama.

Yes, I know I bitch all the time.  I can't stop.  I need therapy.

I take back all the bitching I did about having to get ready for two vacations because only one vacation actually took place.  Henry went with his dad on Thursday evening.  I spent Thursday evening at the store and scooping cat poop and feeding fish and packing my own suitcase.  I was then up all night on Thursday with a really sore throat.  Not just an, "Oh, I think I feel a tickle in my throat, I hope I'm not catching a bug."  It was full-on, "HOLY FUCKING SHITBALLS CALL 9-1-1 MY THROAT IS ON FIRE AND SEND THE AMBULANCE TOO BECAUSE I JUST TRIED TO SWALLOW MY OWN SPIT AND IT FEELS LIKE MY THROAT IS BEING RIPPED OUT OF MY NECK AND STOMPED ON BY A DINOSAUR THAT SOMEHOW SURVIVED THE GIANT ASTEROID THAT KILLED ALL OF ITS FRIENDS AND FAMILY AND IT IS VERY ANGRY AND TAKING IT OUT ON MY THROAT."  I'm not sure what an ambulance would do to save my throat from the angry dinosaur but they might have good drugs so it didn't hurt so bad? 

I got up Friday morning and called my boss, warning her that I was pretty sure I had strep but silly, sleep-deprived me offered to go to work for a little while to take care of our clients and then head to urgent care.  She asked if I had a fever and I said no, I didn't think so.  She had something she couldn't miss so she was very grateful that I could make it in and she said as soon as I could get out of the office, just go.  By the time I got to work, I was feeling a little shaky.  After a few minutes I was all out shivering.  Well, hello, fever!  I tried my best to hide my illness from my clients because if I didn't want them to know that I was exposing them to the plague.  I think I went through an entire bottle of hand sanitizer that I'm pretty sure isn't at all effective but made me feel less bad about possibly infecting them all. 

As soon as everyone was gone I took off and went straight to urgent care.  Twenty minutes before it opened.  There was another car in the parking lot and the people were sitting in their car so I stayed in my car.  Tried to hold my head up to read a magazine.  Pretty much sat there and shivered.  Another car drove in and the people in the first car got out and went and stood outside the door.  There was still 10 minutes to go!  What were they thinking?  Sure enough, the woman that drove in after me got out of her car and went and stood in line.  Mother.  Fucker.  I still didn't want to get out of the car because at that point, sitting hurt, I wasn't sure standing was a good idea.  Then two more cars pulled in the parking lot.  With 5 minutes to go I forced myself out of the car and stood in line.  The woman that was there first felt she needed to talk to everyone and make jokes about how none of us really looked that sick.  And she yelled at her children who were playing in the rocks for banging rocks together.  I wanted them to throw the rocks at her but they decided to play with their ipads instead.  After what felt like 3 hours, the doors unlocked.  The first lady went in.  The second lady started to go in but then she stopped, turned to me and said, "Oh, you got here before me so you go ahead." and I almost cried, I was so touched by her kindness.  By this point I was so close to help that I knew I could make it.  I was going to live.  And then it hit me.  The arctic air.  It was so cold in there that the only thing I could think was they were trying to heal everyone by freezing their ailments right out of existence.  I'm sure my paperwork looks lovely because I couldn't stop my hand from shaking. 

So. 

Long story.

Sorry.

The PA took one look at me and said, "I'm treating you for strep, I don't care what the test reads. You look like crap."  Thanks?  The test was positive, too.

I had them send my drugs to the pharmacy close to my house that I knew had a drive-thru window.  On the way there the pharmacy called to tell me they didn't have my health insurance information.  Fuuuuuck.  My work changed health insurance companies at the beginning of July and apparently I hadn't been to that pharmacy yet.  I had to go into the pharmacy and thank god they have chairs because I sat in one, propped up by the big Dasani refrigerator thing.  It took them forever to call my name.  Once I had my drugs I was so happy to be heading home to climb into bed with a warm, warm blanket. 

And then it hit me.  I was supposed to get on a plane.  My flight was at 1:20 p.m. 

Yeah.  Not happening.

I went home and cancelled my flight.  I wasn't sure it was the right thing to do but I was pretty sure I couldn't sit up anymore, let alone drive myself to the airport, get through security, sit through a flight, and then go to my friend's house to infect she and her family.  I finally got to go to bed at around 11:30 a.m.  I think I woke up around 6 p.m.  Decided I didn't want to eat anything.  Still had a fever.  Took my 2nd dose of antibiotics.  Went back to bed.  Woke up at 9.  I was pissed that I slept all day because I wouldn't get any sleep over night.  Then I fell right back asleep and didn't get up until 9 the next morning.  I think it was a good idea to cancel the flight.

The rest of my weekend?  I felt like shit all weekend and even stayed home from work yesterday.  I'm feeling better today which is good because my boy comes home this evening.  I can't wait to hear all about his wonderful vacation.  I'll be so happy to see him that I won't care that I have no vacation stories of my own. 

i remember vacation.

In my past life, I looked forward to vacation.  Road trips, baseball trips, road trips that were baseball trips, whatever we were doing, I knew it would be fun.  Now, not so much.  I know I've complained before about how much work vacations are with a kid but I found a way to make things even more complicated.  This week I'm working full-time while preparing us for two separate vacations.  Henry is leaving on Thursday night for a trip with his dad, which means I have to have more stuff than usual washed and packed and ready to go by the time his dad picks him up at 5 p.m.  I will be up late tonight finishing laundry and checking items off his list.  The good thing is that his dad sent me a detailed list of what he wants for Henry.  He sent it early enough that I was able to go through the list and shop for the stuff he didn't have over the weekend.

And then this happened...

Let's go back to a couple weeks ago when Henry was going through a growth spurt.  I knew this was happening because he ate everything.  And then he asked for more. And then oh, hey, can he have some more?  On Monday I put his sandals on him and his toes almost hung over the edge.  I swear they fit just fine on Sunday.  Last night I set out to find him new sandals.  Have you ever shopped for sandals on August 19?  Slim pickins' my friend, slim pickins'.  So slim I wrote it twice.  I finally resigned myself to buying the Keens that were on sale for $35.  I decided I would buy them a size too big so he could wear them longer.  I wasn't completely happy with this plan because who spends $35 on shoes for an almost-four-year-old?? But it would have to do because the boy has to have sandals for his trip.  Then the salesperson returned with the news that they had no sandals left in the sizes I requested.  None.  Not even girlie sandals.  Sigh.  I tried one last store and as I was looking at the completely disorganized sandal area, a ray of light shot out of the sky and shone upon one pair of shark sandals in my son's new size.  I swear I heard the angels singing but it could have been me squealing with excitement.  They were marked down to $19.99 but at that point, I didn't really care how much they cost.  They were his size and the box had one left sandal and one right sandal and they were going home with me.  When the cashier rung them up (I know things aren't rung up anymore, do I say they are scanned?), the total was $10.59.  I almost cried. 

Oh, his old sandals were the same size and brand as his sneakers so I knew that his sneakers were probably getting pretty snug as well.  Luckily, a few months ago I snagged a great deal on a pair of Stride Rite sneakers so he is all set there.  I remember the first time I shopped at a Stride Rite store.  And by "shopped," I mean, "walked in, saw the price tag on one pair of baby shoes and walked right back out."  Anyway, the only problem with this pair of shoes is that they look huge on him because the base of them is pretty wide.  I'm sure he's going to trip a time or twenty.  The other problem is that they have flames on them which to Henry means he has to run fast all the time.  Yikes. 

Okay so back to this whole vacation thing.  While Henry is gone with his dad I am going on a quick trip to visit a friend.  So I'm also trying to get everything ready for my own trip.  I'm more concerned about Henry being all set so I'm pretty much making lists of shit I have to do before I leave on Friday.  Which means I will also be up all night on Thursday night.  At least I will be able to actually go to the store in the middle of the night if I have to since Henry will be with his dad. 

I thought going on this trip while Henry is gone would be a good idea.  I thought it would help keep my mind off of missing him and worrying about him and wanting him home.  Instead, it has led to a whole new level of anxiety.  The good thing about being so busy is that I have moments when I'm not freaking out about him leaving and me leaving and about all the things that can go wrong and what if we never see one another again oh my god!  Seriously.  My brain knows these thoughts are ridiculous and we will both be fine but some of my brain is pretty sure we are all going to die this weekend. 

Yay, vacation!

the zoo with the giraffe.

Every time I bring up going to the zoo with Henry, he gets all excited about feeding the giraffes.  It's a good thing because now he gets to learn about disappointment at a young age.  Who am I kidding, he has known about disappointment since day one and that had nothing to do with not getting to feed giraffe at the zoo.  This past weekend we went to the zoo with the giraffe and he got to feed them to his heart's content.  Not really, he got to feed them to the bottom of my wallet.  It costs $1 per lettuce leaf or $5 per bucket.  Yeah.  The problem is the last time we were there a family was honoring their mother who passed away by paying for everyone to feed the giraffe all day.  I tried to explain to Henry that the lady didn't die again so he couldn't feed the giraffe all day.  Did you know that the plural form of giraffe can also be giraffe?  There is nothing I like more than a spelling error on signage so I took a photo of a sign that clearly should have read, "Giraffes" instead of "Giraffe" but then further on saw the same spelling error on several other signs and figured the giraffe zoo could not have made this mistake on several signs so I must have been the one that made the mistake.  Delete that photo.  We had a great day with great friends and I learned something new about giraffe.

He even had to ride the giraffe on the carousel.  I got motion sick.  Yay!

 He is so damn cute.

 The boys were very upset that this truck had a squished tire.  They were all about fixing it but nothing worked since they didn't actually touch the tire with their wrenches.

 These are baby giraffe which you can't really tell without anything for scale.  Trust me, they're babies and they are cute.

 The tongue wrestling for this piece of lettuce was disgusting.  Henry loved it.

 No comment.

mom! mom! mom! mom! mom! mom! mom! mom!

I'm not going to lie, there are some days I wish to never hear, "Mom!" one.  more.  time.  Why is it that when you are the only other person in the room, or in the house, for that matter, the child must begin every sentence with, "Mom!"?  I try to not let him know that he's driving me fucking crazy with his overuse of the word.  When he says it I try to respond calmly with a, "yes?" or, "what's up?" or, "I heard you, can I help you?"  The other day I was really tired and he had refused to take a nap and I was about to lose my shit on him when he said it again.

"Mom!  Mom!! Mom!!"

"Yeah kiddo, what's up?"

"Mom!  I love you so much I can't stand it!"