Comments, kids, credit
At the request of a valued reader, I have opened up the comments section, so that she can leave a snarky remark in my post below regarding the Social Security Administration. In an email, I wrote her that I never opened my comments before because I didn't want any nastiness left on my blog during the run up to the war or during the election, but now that I'm almost 40, it's time to get a spine.
My husband just noted that he thinks we made it through the allergy season with barely a sneeze or stuffy nose. Just in time for the earache season, I thought. I had a 2 A.M. visit from my five-year-old complaining of a sore ear, which I think is due to swimming.
We hit the town pool
at least twice a week and she swims in her best friend's backyard pool
at least once weekly, so I should have seen this coming. In fact, she complained about it days ago, but it came wedged between her litany of other complaints. I get, "My tummy hurts," about five times a day. Then there's, "This thing on my big toe hurts," which turns out to be a hangnail; and finally, "Mom, if I twist my pinkie finger this way, it makes my whole hand hurt."
So, I can hardly be blamed for not calling the doctor at the first mention of her sore ear, can I? Well, perhaps so. We're trying eardrops for now.
Earache aside, I have been patting myself on the back for buying season passes to the pool because it is at the pool where Emma's courage is growing by leaps and bounds. We go to this city water park, where most of the water is 2 feet 6 inches. There's a lazy river that is 3' 6" deep and also an inlet with giant lily pads and a rope suspended above them to help you cross; it is also 3'6" deep. We've gone to the pool about six times and each time she gets in line at the lily pads to cross and when her turn comes up she changes her mind and walks away. I've noticed that she's the smallest person in line each time.
Anyway, Friday she actually did it! And she got back in line again and again to cross those lily pads and never once fell in; I was watchful because though she's taken swimming lessons, she's not all that confident a swimmer. So, later, I took her aside to an inlet off the lazy river, 3' 6"and had her swim to me, which she did beautifully, and asked to do it again. The second time she panicked and had a good cry, resolute that that was her last attempt.
Well, no more lily pads until she's more comfortable, I said. There's a lifeguard just for the lily pad section, but I can't trust her life to a teenager and since I have to hold Brendan, who does not yet understand depth, and will crawl in just about anywhere, I can't jump into save her if she panics after falling off a lily pad.
She countered that her intention is to not fall off the lily pads. But with boys shooting water at you from one of those water rifles, it is an inevitablity, I said.
Then, yesterday at a swim party, she was AquaGirl, able to swim pretty decent distances and jump in by herself and otherwise not need me at all, so the lily pads may be back on. For now, we are very pleased with her courage and balance skills.
I have received my fraud packet from Frontier Communications
, no word from First Collections, the agency they employed to shake me down. I skimmed it -- it looks long and tedious and I'm already mentally exhausted by it, but that could be the need for a little child-free time sneaking up on me (and the kids -- scram!
). So, before I get to that, I'm going to hit some of the off-price stores for children's luggage, while their father takes them to lunch.
Emma needs something bigger than her backpack for her week away with the grandparents and Brendan is at the age where he loves to wheel things behind him, so I should get him one too.
A week after Emma returns, we're off to the July 4 bash in Oklahoma; ten days after that, we drive up to Yellowstone for a family reunion; two weeks after that trip, we have another family reunion in South Texas; and about a week after that, school starts. My husband keeps saying summer hasn't yet begun. Oh no, I assure him, summer's almost over.