Tiny Gift

My son took the top of the bug spray with him when he went outside to play.  We like to make sure that our children use bug spray because they have such terrible reactions to mosquito bites.  Soon he came back inside and handed me this tiny gift, a yellow flower just the right size for the “vase” he put it in.

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He starts kindergarten on Monday.  We have his new bookbag packed with his school supplies and some ideas for what he wants in his lunchbox.  I met his teacher on Thursday.  I filled out all the paperwork that he brought back from open house and even had to take him to the doctor on Wednesday for a last minute polio vaccination that had been overlooked.

The varicella vaccination that he got at his 5 year check-up was really scary because the nurse could not get the plunger in the syringe to go down, so she had to stick his leg 3 times.  He tensed up and screamed and had us both in tears.  I promised him that he didn’t need another shot until he was 12 years old, but then the school nurse called me when she noticed that he still needed a polio booster.  Somehow it was overlooked by everyone at the checkup.  So on Wednesday I told him we had to run some errands.  We dropped off books at the library and a prescription at the pharmacy and then I told him that we had to go to the doctor’s office.  He asked who had the appointment and what it was about, but I didn’t tell him.

We got there about 15 minutes before the staff was ready to take him, so we played in the waiting room with the toys.  Then I whispered to him that he needed an “immunization” because he didn’t know that word yet.  I was hoping not to scare him.  He nervously asked if it was a shot, and I said it was.  Then he started screaming and trying to get out of my arms.

I asked for a lot of help holding him down on the table.  I think 4 members of the staff were in the room helping me, apart from the nurse who administered the shot, but I couldn’t see because I was crying.  It was over very quickly of course, and we wiped our tears with tissues and got our suckers and stickers and silly bands and hugs.

We immediately took the updated immunization record to the school nurse and hung out in her office for a few minutes, looking at photos of her grandson and a scorpion encased in a glass paperweight.

I am relieved he still thinks I am deserving of this tiny gift.  I am filled with love for my sweet boy.

Before and After

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Beautiful You by Rosie Molinary

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Some of you have been reading my blog long enough to remember when I wrote about the book Hijas Americanas.  Rosie and I started reading and commenting on each other’s blogs when a mutual friend from Davidson College told me about that book in 2007.   In May of this year we got the chance to meet in a park in Davidson and talk for a few minutes while our babies played together.  Meeting her was great, and it made me even more enthusiastic about spreading her message.

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Rosie Molinary encourages women to live deliberately in her latest book, Beautiful You: a daily guide to Radical Self-Acceptance.  Through journaling, you act as your own coach, but because of the way this book is written, it feels like Rosie is by your side cheering you on.

I like books (well, novels honestly) that I can plow through quickly, and this is not one of those.  This book asks much more of you.  By reading it quickly in order to publish my review by the date that I promised I would, I denied myself the discoveries that daily journaling would have revealed.  I did do the task of Day 69 which was to sort through my clothes.  Then I bought myself a pack of new socks since I saw that I didn’t have any suitable ones in my drawer.

Not all of the 365 chapters will resonate with you.  There will be days that you need to receive a certain kind of advice or read a certain kind of anecdote.  The index makes it possible to find a chapter that speaks to you.  Skimming is another possibility when you are hoping to find just the right chapter for the moment.

Rosie writes in such a loving and friendly tone.  I desperately want to have that tone of voice myself and I know it will take a lot of practice.  Usually my voice is angry and critical.  There are so many ways in which I would love to be like Rosie!  She is an absolute inspiration.  I am going to re-read Beautiful You slowly and keep a journal as she suggests.  I hope you will take a moment to think of someone who could benefit from this book and then buy it from your local bookstore.

I received a copy of this book from the publicist in exchange for writing this review on my blog.

Vintage Woodsey Squirrels

These squirrels are finger puppets (you can put your thumb and index fingers in their arms) and they squeak when you squeeze them.  They are called Woodseys.  This set of toys was made by Fisher Price in 1979.  It includes a male squirrel, a female squirrel, two chairs, a table and a soft polyester log house.  There is a little boy squirrel named Milkweed, but I don’t know if we still have him.  Looking at other photos of this same toy on the internet I was reminded that the set also came with a bucket and a broom.  When I saw the photos, I remembered playing with them!  Maybe I will hunt for them among the saved toys in my parents’ basement.

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My children love playing with the Woodseys.  I think it’s funny that they don’t exactly fit into their own house.  They are too tall to get through the door and then once they are inside, their heads touch the ceiling.  And they are much too big for their furniture.  But they are the perfect size to be held and played with.

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I want to go in their house because it looks so cozy and comfortable with those warm colors and the ferns covering the ceiling and floor. The canned food, the wall cabinet with nine tiny drawers, and the cooking fire seem so inviting. Did you have this toy?

Bedroom Chair

I had an upholstered chair in my bedroom at my parents’ house, but it was a clutter magnet and usually had piles of clothes on it.  I also used to stuff things underneath the skirt of the chair.  Bedroom chairs are like that, unless you are very deliberate about sitting on them.

Before I was born, one of the arms of the chair broke.  It fell off the truck when my parents moved and they didn’t get it repaired.  So the entire time the chair was in my bedroom, it had a wobbly arm.  But since no one used the chair for sitting, it’s not like the broken arm mattered.

Alas, I forgot to take a “before” picture of my chair with the floral pattern!  My parents are redecorating their house, and because we have a house now we can take some of their things.  They recently offered me the bedroom chair and I accepted.  We took it to an upholsterer to be repaired and recovered.  I intended to choose a cream or white fabric, but ended up choosing gold.  It matches the colors in our master bedroom and those in Logan and Charlotte’s bedroom.  I wanted to be able to actually use it as a chair, so when I saw that we were throwing our clothes on it in our master bedroom, I moved it to the children’s room.  Now I can sit there and read stories and sing lullabies and nurse the baby to sleep.

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I like it in their room very, very much.  And I am fiercely defending it against our kitten who would like very much to put his claws into it.

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Gleaning Grapes

I went with Logan and his pre-k class to a grape vineyard on Tuesday.  The students walked (and ran) between beautiful rows of vines, looking for the last of this season’s concord grapes.  In the farmhouse yard there were several swings hanging in the trees, a hammock, a wagon, and some plastic play equipment that the children could enjoy once they had filled their buckets with bunches of grapes.

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We took the buckets of grapes back to the school, and the next day the teachers showed the children how to make grape juice using steam and a colander.

Grandpa Shoes

Margaret and Logan got some new shoes for school and Margaret made fun of one of the pairs I picked out for Logan.  She called them “Grandpa Shoes”.  Then she told me that on Picture Day at her school one of her classmates made fun of another classmate’s shoes.  She said all her friends were laughing at the term “Grandpa Shoes,” even the little boy who was wearing them.  Logan thinks it’s funny too.

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But check out the shoes that Margaret wore on Sunday afternoon.  Talk about Grandpa Shoes.  For real.

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