Grounding and Origami

Things I have had to ground my boys from this week:

Juice
Cinnamon and sugar sprinkled on anything

It's a first, but it was bound to happen.

Carter came up this morning with ziploc bags full of origami Star Wars finger puppets. "What are you doing with those?" I asked. Carter responded, "I made this sign-up sheet with the number of slots corresponding to the number of each Yoda, R2D2, C3PO, Darth Vader (called Darth Paper in the origami book), and Han Solo. I also made a few blank ones so people can make their own. I am going to be in the library at lunch time so people can come sign up and get some." What do you tell a kid who has worked hard on this idea, an idea you are sure will humiliate him when nobody wants his mass produced Star Wars origami finger puppets? Do you say that he can't do it? Do you let him embarrass himself? I mean, this is the kid who has stayed in from recess to draw robots on more than one occasion. The kid who invites people over to play his made up cardboard carnival games. The kid who dances like Napoleon Dynamite.

What did I do? I said, "It looks like you made a lot of those. Have a great day at school."

Well, he returned home and started making more right away, before he even had a snack. I asked him how it went. He said, "Well, I only let people sign up for two characters, so I ran out, and everybody asked me for more, so I said I would bring some more tomorrow."

One of those times that I am glad I didn't crush his spirit and tell him it was a bad idea.

Preston came running up to me, crying, "Carter said he wasn't grounded from cinnamon and sugar! If HE gets cinnamon and sugar, then I get juice!"

Weird Thoughts

If you see Sadie, you better make sure you don't have any belly button lint. Because she will find it. She is obsessed with "beyee buppuns", and she keeps lifting everyone's shirts trying to see if they have one, too.

My friend came and got Sadie and me yesterday. It was a nice change to hang out on her couch instead of my own. Her son came home, looking freaked out and said, "I am sick. I threw up on the bus." He then got quarantined to his room. A few minutes later, my friend got a phone call about the incident. Apparently, someone had thrown fake snot all over him, and he was so grossed out that he puked! He was so glad to come out of the quarantine to play with my kids! His mom asked him why he didn't tell her about the fake snot, and he said he didn't know it would matter. He thought if he threw up, for any reason at all, he was sick.

While I was at my friend's house, her three-year-old girly-girl came up and kissed me right on the lips. Maybe she was pretending I was Seeping Beauty?

I am trying some makeup that foams. It says to use a walnut size amount, but that is way too much. I would understand that if I had a little head, but I have a decent sized melon, as well as having at least an extra inch of skin to cover on my massive forehead.

Things that would be explained with a diagnosis of MS:

Three month vertigo a few years ago
Lack of energy the last few years (If you knew me before that, you would agree that I used to be a high energy kind of person.)
General fatigue
Occasional burning sensation on my arms like I am just about to get shingles again
Current numbness all over my body

Things that cannot be explained with a diagnosis of MS:

The constant craving for chocolate and cinnamon rolls
Feeling a compulsion to plan vacations for myself and others
The desire to swim through a vault of money like Uncle Scrooge
The spasms that come on when ABBA music plays. Maybe it is dancing?
The compulsion to read Regency romances (not the dirty ones) and fantasy and princess fairy tales lately, sometimes poorly written Mormon romance lit as well
The constant desire to shop online for cute clothes, even though lately, all I wear are yoga pants
Uncontrollable laughter, especially while I am watching Modern Family

Monday Morning

One of those things I never expect to hear my husband say:

Why are there dominos in the baby's pajamas?

It was the ten-year-old, by the way.

One of those things I never want to hear my kid say:

Mom, do you wish you didn't have all those dots on your face?

Ten-year-old.... again.

One of those things I hope I hear today:

I have surprise chocolate and cinnamon rolls for you. And I will watch your kids for you. Oh, and let me take you to the massage appointment I made for you so you are all gone while the maid I hired for you comes in to clean up your house. And when it's all done, there is take-out from that really good Italian restaurant.....

Okay. Fine. If I just heard that I was not the meanest mom in the universe, that would be great.

Also, my kid got his shoe stuck in the six foot tall snow bank this morning and had to come in and change his socks and shoes.

Not the ten-year-old this time, but only because he had boots on...

Fancy Pants

The kids are making popsicles on the back porch. They put them outside, and five minutes later, Carter said, "I want to see if they are frozen yet." Bill said that they would not be done yet. "How do you know?" Carter asked. "Because I have taken whole courses on thermodynamics....."

Good point. Some things do take a rocket scientist, you know.

Bill got in bed and put his lumpy head on his pillow. Well, my pillow. A few seconds later, I asked if he wanted to pray with me before he fell asleep. Too late. I guess I am using a different pillow.

I am jealous of his talent for falling asleep. And his head isn't really lumpy. I am just mad at it for stealing my pillow.

I have nice friends. Too many to list who keep helping me out.

I kind of want to play basketball with the women at church, even though I can't really feel my hands and might not be able to run. It's probably a bad idea, but I might do it anyway. I pretty much always do stupid things, although usually, I don't know they are stupid until after I have done them.

I ordered some pants online. They came today. They are not what they looked like online. They are shimmery pale sea foam green skinny pants. I don't think I can pull them off. But Carter said I looked good in them. When I disagreed, he said, "Maybe I should take a picture of you wearing those pants and post it on Facebook so everyone can see how good you look in them." I did not let him do it. And now I am worried that he is going to post unflattering pictures of me for everyone to see.

Stupid smart kids who know how to use technology way better than I do.

Because Lots of People Keep Asking Me

Okay, here's the scoop. I started having numb hands one evening. I called the doctor on call, and he said, "You're just having a panic attack. Go to bed." The next morning, I noticed that it had spread to other parts of my body. I took a shower and noticed that I could not feel the water hitting my skin. So, I called the doctor. They got me right in, and he did some weird tests and had someone suck some blood out. The weird thing was that the guy had fangs.... All those tests came back completely normal.

So, I called to get an appointment with a neurologist. Luckily, someone had just cancelled, so they could get me in a couple of days later. Normally, their wait time for new appointments is about a month. He wanted me to get a couple of MRIs and some other testing. He thought it could be a brain tumor. It wasn't. After a day of people poking me and trying to electrocute me all over my legs and arms or putting me in minuscule noisy tubes, I am glad to be home with my chocolate stash. It looks like Multiple Sclerosis. He said he is pretty sure, but I am having a few more tests to confirm the diagnosis.

Good thing Bill is a rocket scientist. I have decided that he needs to build me a cool chair lift for our stairs. A rocket powered one. For those times that my legs don't work and I can't get to the only TV we have downstairs. Like right now. I really wanted to watch Duck Dynasty. Have you seen it?

Chocolate and Robots

I knew it would happen sooner or later. I just wasn't ready for it. Sadie has discovered a love of "dockit." Thirteen months old is a little young to be a chocolate lover, but she is my kid...

Bill taught Preston's class how to use some tools, and showed them how to make a little robot. At the end, when he let them ask questions, these are some of the questions he got.

"Where are the robot's arms? It can't be a robot without arms."
"When I get home, I am going to take my remote control car apart and make a robot out of it."
"Do you know my parents?"
"Where did you buy all this stuff?"

I think older kids might have gotten more out of the class than the first and second graders did...

Bill is funny. My ipad alerts me every night at seven that it is time to kiss Bill. My kids can't stop giggling about it.

What is a weever fish?

I was looking up some weird symptoms I have been having today on the webmd symptom checker. A little box popped up that said:

Refine your symptoms:
Trembling associated with...
Recent spider bite?
Weever fish sting?
Diabetes?
Cocaine use?
Cannibalism in Papua New Guinea?
None of the above?

And now Bill is doubting my account of my recent trip to Papua New Guinea....

Sixth Grade

I didn't have much in sixth grade. I had pretty bad hair, really ugly glasses, bad clothes, and not quite a unibrow. I wasn't really popular, even though I had some friends. But I did have kickball. We would play every day at recess, unless there was too much snow. I was not picked first. That was Zach Batté or Chris Botero. But I was usually the next one picked, unless they mixed it up and picked Ryan Tyng before me. Then they would pick the rest of the boys and then the girls. When I didn't have a lot of confidence, at least I got to experience, "Hey, it's Melissa's turn! Back up!" If I couldn't be cool, at least I could kick the ball really far.

Disclaimer: I did get contacts at the end of that year. And slightly better clothes. And a pair of tweezers. Then I got surgery on my feet in seventh and eight grades. No more soccer or kickball for me. But at least I could go really fast on crutches!