Now I KNOW She’s Just Messing With Me

I was planning to do a modestly serious follow-up to yesterday’s entry, but it can wait.

Today Lala announced out of the blue that she had “a big butt.”

Not just no, but [Redacted] no am I going to say anything to that!

Sometimes I Get The Strangest Looks From People

“We need to get better about following schedules in this house, particularly meal schedules,” I was casually telling Lala today.  Then with equal casualness I added,  “That’ll make us more susceptible to assassination, of course, but that’s not really likely to be an issue right now.”

I’ve Been Thinking About My Health Lately . . .

What some call health, if purchased by perpetual anxiety about diet, isn’t much better than tedious disease.

– George Dennison Prentice (It’s a shame that he wasn’t as insightful about people as he was about this.)

I Suggested She Sleep On It

“Lately I’ve been noticing that despite any plans I have to sleep earlier, I don’t actually end up making it to bed until it’s 12:21 precisely,” L’s Mother told me last night.  “I don’t know if that’s significant or just palindromic.”

You’ll Just Have To Humor Me On This

Yesterday I walked past my son’s room to see him sitting next to Lala on the edge of his bed.  He was wearing pajamas and a red plastic fireman’s hat as he pointed to the book in his lap while saying, “One Fish.  Two Fish.  Red Fish.  Blue Fish.”

I don’t get many Norman Rockwell moments in my life, so I wanted to record this one.

The Rocky Road To Recovery (Follow-Up)

After I wrote what I wrote yesterday, I found reason to be glad for my self-honesty about my desire to “lounge about” in post-Illness recovery for a little while longer.   In part because it inclined me to pace myself in my return to work and other exertions, which has proven to be not only wise, but necessary in staving off embarrassing “falling down suddenly” instances.  (Which I have so far successfully avoided, by the way.)

More importantly though, my self-honesty was enough (if only barely) to stifle a rogue parental impulse to tell my son he’d been watching too many cartoons lately (the word “damn” may have been involved in that thought), and it was past time that he got off the couch for a little while.  (The word “damn” was definitely involved in the last part of that thought.  I wouldn’t have said it, mind you, but I’m just draggy enough to be irritable about being draggy, and that’s making me irritable in general.)

This was important because not long after I made yesterday’s entry there was . . . let me put this delicately . . . “physical evidence” that my son wasn’t feeling 100% yet either.  Nothing dramatic or requiring spontaneous cleaning of anything, but “physical evidence” none the less.  (And that’s as far as I’m going to elaborate.)

So we’re all going to be pacing ourselves for a couple of days more, which in practice shall mean extra cartoon time for my son, and extra introspection time for me about when exactly did I become the type of person who stared pairing the words “damn” and “cartoons.”

I like cartoons!

The Rocky Road To Recovery

All of us seem to have more or less recovered from the latest bout of illness.  The biggest challenge remaining now is convincing my son that it’s time to stop lounging around all day, but this should be easy to accomplish so long as I take the challenge in stages.

Stage 1:  Convince myself that it’s time to stop lounging around . . .

So Far The Number Is Three

Today’s agenda (unlike yesterday’s) is to determine the precise number of naps needed to keep a late lunch date I’d rather not cancel.  (I’m gong to cancel regardless, but I want it to be because I’m too sick to be around people, not because I’m too sick to go, if you catch the distinction.)

How Sick Am I Right Now?

Sick enough that not only was it my plan to let the four-year-old eat crackers on the couch, then put the dog on the couch to eat the crumbs, my illness addled mind is actually proud of this plan.

I’m going back to bed now . . .

Shhhhh

Everyone around here is sick at the moment, and everyone but me is currently asleep, even four-year-old Mr. “Naps?  I spit on the concept of naps!  I insult the mother of naps!  I rage against the very idea of the existence of such a horrible thing!” himself.

While the quiet is nice, since he conked out on the bed I keep in my office, this limits my work options while he sleeps more than a little, so I’m just going to enjoy the quiet for bit.

Talk more later.