HEAD LICE

Yesterday CT brought home a handout on HEAD LICE from the school nurse. It was so nice of them to let us know that someone has indeed contracted HEAD LICE in his class. Included in the information was the whole life cycle of the louse, which is very compelling and interesting reading for a Thursday afternoon.

I remember back in grade school when there would be a head lice scare. The teachers would line us up by class so we could wait patiently, or not so patiently, for the entire school to get their heads checked by rubber gloved woman sitting at card tables with old fashioned black combs just waiting to find the little critters laying nits in someone’s hair.

Then, once they found the culprit, the poor little bastard would immediately be sent home for the day to be disinfected. It didn’t matter to the gloved woman that the infected kid would be ostracized for week’s even months later, they just wanted them out. And by the end of that school day, everyone knew who had it.

Oh sweet school day memories.

Anything is possible

Yesterday CT and I took a bike ride on the path near our house. As I walked out the door and buckled my helmet he told me that we wouldn’t see the train today because he had just heard it go by.

He was hoping to see it. Last time we rode we stopped on the bridge as the train passed underneath us; we laughed and laughed as the bridge shook with the enormity of the train passing by and our hair whipping around our heads.

As we made our way down the trail, we start to hear the far-off rolling thunder of the train. I ask CT if he hears it. He turns around to see it coming up behind us. As it meets us and speeds by, CT is eyeing it up. It is rolling fast only 30 feet to our right. To him he can almost touch it. I see him start to go, and look, and go. You can see it in his eyes, he’s trying to catch it, be as fast as it, be with it. With his little bike and his little legs going around and around and around as fast as they can.

It looked like an old movie scene in sepia tones. All you saw in the frame was the boy moving as fast as he could so filled with excitement at the possibility of catching the train and the train just effortlessly slipping away into the horizon.

I so wish I had my camera.

Kid quote of the day

CT: MOM, MOM, I know what the F word is…FFUUUUCK!

And so it begins.

Food, you need food

Today, on CT’s second day of 1st grade, he came walking home from the bus stop, chin trembling and when he saw me he BURST into tears. He crumbled into my arms and he sobbed and sobbed and then told me his head hurt so bad he thought he was going to throw up.

As the ever worried parent of a 1st grader, I of course thought the worst, he got his feelings hurt by someone, he got bullied, he couldn’t figure out the answer to some “gummy bear math” question or he got off at the wrong bus stop.

After some Motrin and ice to the head and dinner, we were able to talk about his day: a day that was filled with fun, math, gym, chasing girls, no confrontations and best of all no problems. And as we were talking, I was unpacking his lunch. A lunch that had only two bites out of it. When I asked him why he ate so little he said, “Well mom, they don’t give me enough time to eat and did I tell you I WAS THE THIRD KID ON THE PLAYGROUND!”

And if you are wondering, the answer is YES..Yes, recess comes right after lunch.

Waiting for the bus

CT has been cool as a cucumber with this whole 1st grade bit. The only time I got an inkling of doubt was on the way out the door to the bus stop.

Right as we were about to walk through the threshold of the door he turned around, touched my arm and said, “Mom, now I’m a little nervous.”

Then off he went to seize the day.

1st Grade

Yesterday we got the “list” in the mail. The “list” that told us who CT has for his 1st grade teacher and who will be in his class.

There is a lot of excitement in the house about school starting. All day school, bus rides, desks, lockers, recess, hot lunch, the list of thrillers goes on and on. He can’t wait. And when people ask me if I am ready for him to take his big step I look at them straight in the eyes and say with all certainty that everyone in the family is ready to forge ahead into the school year.

I don’t feel sad or that I am loosing him or that my baby is leaving the nest or that I am loosing part of me which I can’t get back…my first born baby.

Along with the “list” came forms to fill out, information for the parents and a special letter written to CT from his teacher.

This morning over breakfast I asked CT if he wanted me to read the letter to him. “Yes, yes, yes!” came falling out of his mouth. As I read the letter out loud, about how excited his teacher was to have him in class and about who his teacher is and what she likes to do with her free time and who her children are and what summer adventures she and her family have had and how much fun and all the exciting things they will learn this year, I started to tear up and then I couldn’t hold it back and started to cry.

Even though I may be ready to let go, it is still amazing to me that my baby boy is embarking on such an amazing adventure and I won’t be there all day to hold his hand or wipe his nose or to teach him…he will have to do it on his own, with his friends and with his new teacher.

First conversation of the day

7:03 am

CT: Mom, did you go for a run already?

Me: Nope, I went for a bike ride.

CT: Hmmm, (sticking his nose into the air) you don’t stink that bad today.

My crazy curse

This past weekend I got to enjoy time away, by myself, to see my dear friend Stephanie marry a true, bona fide, 10 gallon hat, big belt buckle, cowboy boot, amazingly large mustache wearing cowboy.

I made the journey out to Colorado late Friday night and was back in no time flat on Sunday afternoon. My re-entry into the family went fine. My mother even brought over dinner after dropping CT off from a birthday party.

The long day drew to a close. Everyone was tucked nicely into their beds to get a good night sleep so we would all be rested for our upcoming week.

Then at 12:15 am CT woke me up to tell me his stomach hurt.
Then at 1:37 am CT woke me up to tell me he needed a bucket.
Then at 2:12 am CT filled the bucket with barf and proceeded to fill most of the toilet bowl as well.
Then at 2:32 am CT came back down to get out the rest of the lingering bile that was left in his stomach.

This story seems vaguely familiar to the last time I left for a little get-a-way.

What am I doing to deserve this?

You can use this too…next Easter

Church seems to be a difficult activity for our family. But this past Lent, I wanted to try to go every Sunday. So we tried. After many weeks of practice we got to go to the grand finale, Easter Sunday mass. Which, by the way, I spent half of chasing a 1 and 3 year old up and down the back halls of the church, all the while asking God for some grace so I wouldn’t have what I like to call “church rage”.

Once everyone was done running, I brought them back into church just in time for communion. We all went up, Adam and I swapped out jobs, and I got to sit with CT (who had sat so still all of mass) and enjoy a bit of calm.

Then, CT started to complain. Complain about how his feet were hurting in his new shoes. He went on, and on, and on. Even when I asked him to stop, he wouldn’t. I finally looked at him and said in a whisper that was probably a bit too loud, “Your feet? Your feet hurt? You have no right to complain. Jesus…now he has a right to complain, he was NAILED TO THE CROSS. DO YOU HEAR HIM COMPLAINING?”

4-4-00

Dear CT,
Happy 6th Birthday! You made it onto your second hand. That’s BIG stuff.

Every year you flip one year older, I sit and take pause and remember the night you came into this world…Dad speeding down bumpy back streets, Bad Bad Leroy Brown blaring through the car, me holding onto the dash board huffing and screeching through 2 minute apart contractions just wondering if you are going to be spit-out right there in the foot-well. It was great and exhilarating and oh so very scary.

And now…and now you are six.

At six, you are filled with so much energy it comes spilling out of every pour.
At six, you are a leader.
At six, you know compassion and caring for others.
At six, you are silly as the day is long.
At six, you crave knowledge.
At six, you love Star Wars and soccer and coloring monsters.
At six, if things get hard you many times would rather stop.
At six, you requested pasta with broccoli and goat cheese for your special birthday meal.
At six, you love to nit-pick your little sister and you can’t stop hugging your little brother.
At six, you are still figuring out just how far you can push us.
At six, you are as big as many eight year olds.
At six, you love it all and you are happy.

My dear amazing son, may your sixth year be filled with everything you dream of.

I love you, Happy Birthday.

Mom