Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Doctor who?



It's funny how God made boys.


Take our guy, for example. He likes to pick up dead bugs, has to be reminded to use soap (and shampoo) in the shower, and uses the words silent but deadly, atomic, and machine gun to classify you-know-what.


And yet, he gets totally squeamish with blood and guts.


Last year, the fourth grade science chapters dealing with the systems of the body totally grossed him out ... especially the digestive system. All that food digesting and moving through twisted, coiled intestines was enough to make him gag. Then the very fact that the large intestine could be up to five feet long just about did him in. Of course, we all found this terribly funny. It got to the point when we would just yell "Intestines!" and he would clutch his stomach in horror.


Yesterday I picked him up from school, and right away I could see something was up.


"Mom," he gravely announced. "Today was so gross. In science we studied ..."


And he paused because he had to swallow hard.


"We studied tendons!" he continued.


"What's wrong with tendons?" I asked. "We all have them."


"I know," he responded between gulps. "But they are stretchy, like a rubber band. That just makes my skin crawl."


Oh dear Lord, I think, please help me not to laugh.


Today wasn't much better. Evidently, in science they watched an educational video about cells and a doctor cuts a piece of skin (a skin graft?) and looks at it through a microscope to show the different kinds of cells. Oh the horror. He actually looks pale.


"Well, you know, you have cells right now swimming all over you," I inform him. "You can't see them, but they're there."


"STOP TALKING ABOUT IT!" he yells. "I'M TRYING TO EAT MY OREO COOKIES!"


Like I said, there's no telling how God made boys. Snips and snails and puppy dogs' tails ... and a whole lot of stuff in between.


A Day in the Life of a Boy
by Norman Rockwell

Monday, September 8, 2014

The Perfect Time


A Girls’ Trip to Italy … it was always a dream of mine, but I kept postponing the idea because I was waiting for the perfect time. Then this summer, during our big family road trip in which every day was an adventure waiting to happen, I realized that there will never be a perfect time. The only thing that happens when you wait for the “perfect time” is that time slips through your fingers; furthermore, how do you know it’s not the perfect time unless you move forward? With those thoughts in mind, after we returned home I announced the Girls’ Trip to Italy for 2015. It took a leap of faith.

Yesterday, a good friend of mine stopped by – a lovely surprise on a rainy Sunday afternoon – and officially announced that she would be joining the group. So far we have 11 confirmed travelers, with more expected this week. It's been an exciting, scary, thrilling adventure ... and we haven't even left home yet.
The perfect time? How about now?

Saturday, August 30, 2014

A Morning Conversation, BC (before cappuccino)





Timothy: Top Gear is, like, my favorite show. Both the American and the British one. I want a Lamborghini. Or maybe a Bentley. Do you know how fast a dragster goes? Well, it's like 220 miles an hour, or something. A Bugatti is cool, too. Let me see your iPhone and I'll show you a picture.

Me: Look. No more talking about cars. Between football and cars ... talk about other things.


Timothy: You just say that because you don't like cars. What kind of cars do you like, anyway?


Me: Smart Cars, Fiats, and Mini Coopers.


Timothy is speechless. How uncool could his mom be?


Me: Oh, and I also like vintage Vespas.


Timothy sighs. He has a lot of work to do to catch me up to speed.





NOTE: All these photos of smart cars were taken by yours truly when we were in Italy three years ago. It became a game. When we got home Timothy and I made a poster of all the Smart Cars we saw on our trip. Also note the last one ... a Red Cross Smart Car.






















Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Happiness is ...



a son who calls home from college yesterday ... not because he needs anything or has a question ... but just to talk and tell me about his classes.


son #2 who drives his baby brother to school, and says the morning prayers with him in the car.


son #3 who still wants me (and only me) to go over his spelling words with him.


Friday, August 22, 2014

Proud of My Golfer



Notice the photo below. After Joe plays a round of golf, he leaves his scorecard on the kitchen table so we can oooh and aaah over his golf score. It's usually there for about a week.


But this particular scorecard is special. Inside is the evidence of a glorious round in which he shot a 75.


Sunday, August 17, 2014

Missing a Presence



Today we dropped off our college sophomore at Clemson University.


And it's a strange thing, because despite being home for the summer, he wasn't. During the week he worked from 6:00 a.m. until 5:30 p.m. as an engineering intern, every Friday night he had a group of friends over to hang out (or he went out), on weekends there were beach trips and/or camping trips, and the times when he was home ... well, he was catching up on his sleep.


Basically, he flitted in and out and, really, seemed to be gone more than he was here.


So why, then, this evening when we are here and he is at Clemson, does the house feel so empty?


Settling in at Clemson ...
and enjoying the spaciousness of duplex-living.
Love you, Nicho!

Thursday, August 14, 2014

A Note for Timothy



Not as good as last year's Diary of Timothy the Kid, but tomorrow Timothy will find in his desk a little something from the files of very bad poetry by Bia.