Projects

Yawn. I'm so boring lately. But I have been a busy girl. I actually survived planning and pulling off the Blue and Gold cub scout shin dig for about 70-ish people. Just think of someone who's a big-time supporter of Boy Scouts, all about the badges, the salutes, and all that ... boy stuff. And that would be the opposite of me. And don't even get me started on how malnourished I look in beige.

But then I've had a few fun projects. First a baby quilt for Miss Julie's baby on the way:

I do enjoy choosing and ordering fabric. There's so much amazing fabric available and then with the quilt all done, I'm left with lots of cheerful looking remnants folded on my supply shelf. But I've got to figure out how to make my walking foot feed the fabric a little more evenly. Since that's the whole point of a walking foot. Grrr.

And then a dress for the girl:

LOVE this fabric. I just used it for the skirt since I felt it was too busy for the bodice, but it's one of the prettiest bird prints I've seen - looks like hand painted fabric. The girl likes it too, which is helpful since if she didn't, she wouldn't wear it.

It's a Sickness

This arrived Monday:

A pretty great Valentine's Day for someone who is mildly obsessive with floor cleanliness. Oh, there were other more conventional Valentine's surprises, but I do love me a good vacuum.

This was last Mother's day:

I could write a whole post devoted to Roxy Roomba. Our love is deep and true.

Progress

We had a brief scare wondering if he might have a detached retina as a result of what we shall always look back on fondly as "the bungee cord incident", but an urgent trip to the opthalmologist calmed our fears.

Tangent: The opthalmologist's name was Bienvenidos Castillo, II. Would have bet my firstborn's last good eye we were expecting an appointment with a man of Hispanic heritage. So you'll understand why I stifled a "wha??" when in walked a man of Asian descent, complete with an Asian accent. And he was definitely Dr. Castillo. I've wracked my brain, and still I've got nothing. Just. Don't. Get. It.

Anyway, despite seeing "seeweed" in that eye, he has mended just the same. And we've been so, so grateful that a black eye was the extent of it.

See, when they call it bungee cord jumping...

they don't mean repelling down the slide of your play set with a hardware store bungee cord. Lesson learned.

It's 11:13 a.m. What have you accomplished?

E is teleworking. This means sleeping in until 7:00, wearing his favorite awesome (insert sarcasm) sweatshirt and leaving the shower and shave until later. Much later. (I have pictures. I'll hold on to those for leverage.)

But never fear, he has applied himself with fervor to one particular task this morning.

Imbibing a 2 liter bottle in it's entirety.

While he convalesces...

The day after surgery Wonderboy and E had this email exchange:

Dear Dad,

I just ate a chicken noodle smoothie. Here's how. I figured if I blended up chicken noodle soup and made it into a chicken noodle smoothie, I could have actual energy running through my body without getting stuff in the spaces where my tonsils were taken out.

Love,

Kai

Dear Kai,

I'm glad you were able to find a way to obtain actual energy, instead of eating thousands of popsicles.

Love,

Dad

He's recuperating nicely, but tired of squishy food.

In other news, I performed the Heimlich (or whatever it's called these days) on my 4 year old yesterday. We heard him making a strange crackling, choking sound and realized he had something lodged in his windpipe, but we saw he wasn't able to take air in or cough. He stood there turning very red, but then he completely stopped making any sound and his fingers were digging at his neck so I grabbed him around the middle and picked him up, flipped him parallel to the ground and locked my hands together at his belly and gave a quick thrust up under his ribs. A mint fell out, and then he stood there taking great gulps of air, telling me how that mint was very stuck. Some days I think E and I won't survive this boy, and then other days I think the reverse might be our real concern.

Evidence both boys are alive and well, playing Mario Kart:

Farewell tonsils, Adieu adenoids

He was literally bounding down the stairs at 6:15 this morning, ready for his trip to the hospital, giddy with the promise of endless popsicles, soda and ice cream.

I think he feels duped.