party at grandma's

t.c. = that character

We had a party today, a big old kid party, though that wasn't the plan starting out.

John called late in the morning and asked if he could drop his kids off. Dannell has sick grandparents and had to go to the hospital.

Absolutely.

So there were freeze pops and the sprinkler, and kids in the sandbox, and gymnastics in the grass, lots of laughing and racing around.



I tried twice to get b.g. to rest and take a nap, and he was NOT in the frame of mind to do anything of the kind.

Even with the house quieted down, generous amounts of milk, and his blanket, no way in hell was he taking any nap. After a few minutes of him coming at me like a Spider Monkey, it felt just mean-spirited making him lie down when he objected this much, and I couldn't do it.


Wimp.

Yes, I know.

(I have an old friend who told me kids affect our behavior far more than we affect theirs. I can see this--they're much more single-minded in their purpose in the moment.)



Okay, and here's a dumb story for you:

Last night Jay called me while I was working, which he never does. Never. Maybe a text once in a while, but never calls.

Of course I answered and there he was, "Tim was jumping on the bed and might have swallowed a battery. I need to call Poison Control, don't I?"

"Yeah."

Okay, but ponder on the dumbness of that.

He's jumping on the bed and a battery is in his mouth? He accidentally swallowed a battery some months back and didn't tell us until the battery was out. Okay, that was a family incident. Who eats batteries?

We've HAD this conversation. (The battery caused him no harm.)

But it's so annoying. Why is he in James' room, in James' stuff, jumping on a bed, WITH BATTERIES IN HIS MOUTH?

I'm not gonna lie. Things like this make me nuts.

Tim admitted he wasn't sure if he'd swallowed the battery. In the mayhem, it was in his mouth and then not. They searched the sheets, the floor, and found the battery. It flew out of his mouth. Poison Control was not needed.

Good Lor-ED.

an old picture, but nothing has changed

Oh, but there's more.

Yesterday I had an empty mint container from my purse and put it on the dining room table, intending to throw it away. Julia asked if she could have it. Of course, sure.

Well, a little later, there they were with it and it was clacking like it had mints in it again.

Well, no.

They'd filled it with children's Flintstones vitamins.

"Okay, vitamins are toxic if you eat a bunch. How many vitamins did you kids eat? You cannot eat vitamins like mints. I'll buy you damned mints if you want, but, blah, blah, blah." (I was ranting, true.)

They confessed to eating each two--not a lethal amount.

I took it all away, and threw away all the vitamins. Obviously nobody in this house is malnourished. We don't need them. And for good measure I threw away the mint container too, in case they decided to fill it with tylenol tablets or sudafed.

Even Imodium pills could do them in good. Think about that for a minute.

I mean, really now.

My mom was even mad about all this when I told her, "I understood the first part about jumping on the bed, but the part about batteries?! What's he doing with batteries in his mouth? Have these kids no sense of self-preservation?"

She offered to come over and help me this afternoon and I thanked her, but told her the kind of help I need is Professional Mental Help.

We laughed.

Kind of--strange laughter, a little maniacal.

You'd think by the ninth and tenth children, I'd be better at this, but no.

jimmy and a couple nephews

All is well. The grandchildren had fun, and all went home in one piece.

l.c. which stands specifically for little cutie.

heidi's baby, p.j.

No batteries were eaten, nor an excessive number of vitamins.

Afterward, we tackled this house like the team of eight that we are now, and in preparation for my parent's 50th anniversary party tomorrow, the lawn is mowed and the weeds are whacked.

I cleaned all four bathrooms in succession, which I only do when company is coming.

The dog hair has been battled back on every front.

Little Jay took his long, skinny arms and whapped down all the cobwebs he could find.

Big Jay cooked and chopped and let us snitch bites from the edges.


Now Julia and I will frost the cake, and the laundry will keep on churning, and if I were in the car, I'd have the roof open and be enjoying the sweetness of a warm summer night.

But a hot kitchen works just as well.

Glad for grandkids, actual kids, disasters averted, and parents married half a century, and for grandparents struggling with health issues also.


Plus, I mean, come on now--tomorrow is Friday--in 30 minutes it'll be tomorrow. Married 50 years on a Friday? That has to be super good luck. love forever and always, Val