I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas

As we were in the car listening to Christmas music, the Brain and I heard a familiar song. 

I asked, "What makes him a hippo hero anyway?"

The Brain replied, "Maybe he wears a cape or something."

Christmas Joy

Overheard in my second grade classroom:

[little girl humming "Jingle Bells"] 

Me: E, you have a lovely voice, but please save it for music class.

E: I just can't hold my jingle in!

Numbers are hard

The Brain (after struggling with his math homework and realizing he was trying too hard): I overthink things a lot, like when I multiplicate.

Ha!

As the Brain headed toward the Walmart bathroom, SuperD said: 

We'll be in women's clothes. [pause] Well, I won't be in women's clothes; your mom will. We'll be in the women's clothing department."

Money, money, money

While doing her Financial Literacy homework for her Government class, Pinky said:

"I don't understand money. Money is stupid."

So, I guess you won't consider an accounting degree next year, huh?

Silence and Joy

I thought I hated Shakespeare. In a style of language which is no longer used, it was hard to understand. Reading hour after hour was boring.

Now I find that what I really hated was reading it for English class. Shakespeare wasn't meant to be read - it was meant to be performed. Shakespeare wrote plays. For the stage. When performed well, his words come alive. His words are beautiful, and funny, and tragic. Each time I listen, I hear something new. 

My favorite play is Much Ado About Nothing. Of the dozens of times I have watched the Kenneth Brannaugh/Emma Thompson version, it wasn't until recently, while seeing the Joss Whedon film, that I first really heard these most beautiful words, spoken when Claudio first discovers that Hero has been won for him:

Silence is the perfectest herald of joy.

I were but little happy if I could say how much.

-Lady, as you were mine, I am yours.

I give myself for you and dote upon the exchange.

I know this feeling. Sometimes, there aren't words to express happiness.

Grammar: it saves family relationships

I heard Pinky say to me, "You're my favorite, Mom."

What Pinky really said was, "You're my favorite mom."

The Small Stuff

For the past year, SuperD and I have had separate sinks in the bathroom. Mine is nearest the door, and his is on the far end, past the toilet and the shower. I realize this doesn't matter to anyone in the rest of the world, but for an entire year, my toothpaste tube isn't squeezed in the middle. They say not to sweat the small stuff, but this feels like victory.

To err is human...

Why do we keep making the same mistake, time and time again? Society takes men and women of history and heroizes them, only to be disappointed when we discover that these heroes are human and make mistakes like the rest of us. We know that no one is perfect, and yet we seem to expect perfection from them. We put them on a pedestal, thinking they can do no wrong. We study their good deeds and model our lives after them.


And then we discover something horrible from their past, a lapse in judgment from a time when they were young and stupid. Suddenly, our shining examples are tainted. We feel let down by someone we don't even know. What's wrong with us? Don't we remember being young and stupid? Didn't we go through a period of our lives when we were learning the difference between right and wrong? Wasn't there a time when each of us made a bad decision that ended in disaster? Aren't we exactly like our heroes after all? So why do we suddenly vilify those who once set the standard?


God addressed this very issue when the apostle Paul wrote that "all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23). The Bible is filled with men and women who were chosen by God to do great things, and yet they all made huge mistakes. While I can learn important lessons from each of their stories, I only want to emulate one person. His name is Jesus.


Jesus showed us how to live. His example is different from all those who had lived before and all who would live after; his life was lived without sin. There aren't any skeletons in His closet. No past mistakes will pop up and taint our view of Him. I want to live like Christ. I want to model my life after Him and no one else. And when I make mistakes, as I will, I hope others will look past my errors and see Christ in me. I hope they will see my contrite heart and my repentance.  I hope they will see His forgiveness, His grace, and His mercy. I hope my life will point them to Him, so that they will model their lives after Christ, too, because Jesus is the standard.

Traffic

Driving in Dallas traffic

Me: We only have 9 1/2 miles until we get there.

SuperD: Whew! Driving 9 miles could take an hour!

The Brain: [deadpan from the back seat] If you're going 9 miles per hour, then yes.

Common Sense Lesson #1

If the food you're eating tastes so bad that you think it may be rotten, don't offer it to your coworker. It probably is rotten, and there's a good chance they'll barf on you when it makes them sick.

You're welcome.

The Teenage Years

And so it begins.

My sweet little baby boy, is little no longer.

The Brain turned 13 today.

This morning, as the Brain was lying down in the living room, he wanted SuperD to look at something on his phone.

The Brain: Dad, come here and look at this!

SuperD: YOU come here.

The Brain: Um, it's my birthday.

Wild Bill

Bill. It's a nice name for a man, but it's a pretty lame name for a tropical depression. Pinky says it's a stupid name for a stupid storm. She's just mad because the rain waters caused the creeks at our church youth camp to overflow. Not only did they send the current campers home, but next week's session has been canceled. That was supposed to be Pinky's week for camp. She is now in the depths of despair. And she's a little mad. And a little pouty.

Pinky: God promised not to flood the earth again, and He flooded His own church camp! Who does that?

Rite of Passage

Pinky and the Brain have taken to comparing their height regularly, not only to each other, but also to their mother! Pinky has surpassed me, and the Brain will probably stand taller than me by the end of summer!

My beloved university

Comments before our college preview day

Me: Will you need a jacket walking campus? 

Pinky: I don't know. Is it windy? 

Me: It's always windy on Bison Hill.

Comment in the heat of summertime, after a week at camp on the same campus

Pinky: I wish I was back [on campus]. There's no wind today, but it's always windy on Bison Hill!

Teaching

Brain: If I was a tutor, I'd do it for free 'cause nothing pays like teaching a kid.

SuperD: And it doesn't pay the electric. Ask your mom.

Look!

The Brain: Look! I'm picking her nose!

Pinky: You're such a boy.

Tornado Alley

As I write this, the tornado sirens have sounded 11 times this evening. My family hasn't taken cover since all of the rotation has been well to the south of us. But the experts have to sound the sirens in the entire county, I guess. Nevertheless, we're watching continuous tornado coverage. Although I am incredibly sleepy, I can't go to bed until I know that the dangerous weather has passed.

When I first heard the sirens, I stepped onto my back porch to look at the sky. This is fairly typical for people who live in Tornado Alley. Meteorologists keep us "weather aware," so we know when it's truly time to take cover. I was so impressed by the heavy winds and the spooky sky that I began to film the trees bending back and forth. That's when The Brain found me and asked what I was doing. He, too, looked up and said, "It's actually kind of a beautiful day, if you don't think about it being apocalyptic."

Huh

The Brain pulled a ninja on me and suddenly materialized at the dining table. Every parent knows that silent children are usually up to no good.

Me: Brain, whatcha doin'?

The Brain: Origami.

Huh. Ninjas do origami, right?

Origami rubber band guns aren't standard issue for a ninja though.

Only a 12YO boy

The Brain wanted to play outside after school today, so I reminded him that he must complete his homework first, which includes practicing percussion. As I was sitting at the dining table with Pinky, we could hear him practicing rhythms with his drumsticks. We had a discussion about how good he is doing in band and how he's getting better. His band teacher (who is also Pinky's band director) told Pinky that he's been "kicking butt" lately in class.

So, being the good mom, I got up to go tell him how proud I am of him and how good he sounds. It's as I walk down the hallway past the bathroom on the way to his bedroom that I realize the sound of his drumsticks is no longer in front of me.

Me, at the bathroom door: I love that you're practicing, but not that you're doing it while on the toilet.

The Brain: I'm poo-ing!

Married to a diabetic

It's 1:30 a.m. and I can't sleep. SuperD just reminded me that he's not invincible - he had a diabetic seizure. He came to bed sometime after me, and I t started in his sleep. His body began to twitch a little, but not enough to alarm me at first. It feels like when your body jumps as you're falling asleep. But after a couple of times, I began to get suspicious. It's then that you skip the glucose meter and go straight for some sugar. Every second counts. I grabbed a CapriSun while he could still swallow. By the time I returned to the bedroom, his body was convulsing every couple of seconds, over and over and over. He drank the juice and then rolled himself off the bed and onto his hands and knees on the floor. And then we waited for the sugar to kick in.

Waiting is the worst. How long do I wait? Does he need another CapriSun? Can he even still swallow? If I leave his side to get another, will he try to move and hurt himself? Should I skip the sugar and go straight for the Glucagon pen? Are the kids still asleep? Should I shut the door so they don't see this and get scared? Do I wake Pinky and ask for her help? Where is his Glucagon pen anyway? Should I go look for it or just go get the Brain's pen? Do I give it in his thigh or his hip? Can I hold his leg still long enough to inject it? Will the needle really go through his shorts? If I jab him in the rear, is he going to kick me? Is he getting enough oxygen? How long do I let this go before I call 911? Can I cry now?

I've never had to administer glucose from the pen. I've prepared it but never actually given it. I panicked a little. I mixed the solution, drew back the syringe, and it filled with bubbles. Frantically, I flicked the syringe to get the air to the top. Again and again, I flicked, pushed the air out, and drew it back again. Finally, I settled for a slightly smaller dose with less bubbles. As I grabbed SuperD's leg, I told him what I was doing, and he stretched his leg out for me as best as he could. I pinched his skin, took a deep breath, and jabbed it in. I guess I had been prepared for him to yell out or fight me or kick me. But there was no change - he kept convulsing. And the waiting began again.

I tried to reassure myself that his body had what it needed to return to normal; it just takes time. 

The convulsions began to lessen with more time in between them. He lifted his head off the floor and put it on the bed, and for the first time, I could see his face again. His skin was beet red, and he was sweating as if he had just had a workout. In truth, I guess he had. Just to be sure his blood sugar was returning to normal, I made him drink another CapriSun. It was then that he began to talk again. His memory of the event was foggy. He wondered why he was on the floor. He said his left thigh was sore. He asked for candy and some ice water. I brought him both and a towel. The sheets were soaked from where he had laid his head down. 

Fifteen minutes after it was over, I finally checked his blood sugar - 58. Normal is 70-150. We wondered how low it must have been during the seizure. 

So here I sit. In bed. Awake. Unable to sleep until I know he's back in the normal range and won't go low again. It's been thirty minutes now, and his blood sugar level is up to 121. I still don't think I'll be able to sleep for a while. It's going to be a long day for both of us. In the meantime, he's beside me, snoring. Yeah, I won't be able to sleep any time soon.

You know it's bad when...

As I was driving the Brain home from school today, I saw from the corner of my eye that he was making a gagging motion, as if he was coughing up a hair ball. I asked if he was okay. He said, "Yeah. I just caught a whiff of my armpit."

High School

On the drive to school this week, this was the exchange between my daughter and me:

Pinky: [GASP] I think I left my phone at home! How will I ever survive?

Me: [sigh of relief that the emergency is merely her phone]

Pinky: Just kidding. I have it.

Me: Whew! That was close!

Pinky: I might not even really need it much today. I think we're actually doing something in 5th hour.

The very next day, she begins texting in the early afternoon. Here are the highlights:

Little Bites

Having a teenager with braces is like having a toddler again, at least at dinner time.

Zzzzzz  

Good Idea/Bad Idea

Good idea: The Easter Bunny brought Pinky 24 bubble gum eggs.

Bad idea: Since it was the day before getting her braces, she chose to chew all 24 at once.

April 1st

SuperD decided to have a little fun with his manager at work. These were his texts to her:

I married him for his wit.

And his innovative ideas.

More medical adventures

Here's a new one: the Brain has periorbital cellulitis.

I thought the eye swelling was an allergy, but 2 doses of Benadryl didn't improve it overnight. You know it's not good when the doctor stays about two feet away and won't touch you. I guess antibiotics will clear it right up.

And then, based on the vomiting overnight, it turns out the Brain also has a stomach virus. 

For those keeping track:

crazy toe

intoeing

diabetes

probable ADD

missing permanent teeth

eczema

keratosis pilaris

24 known allergies

possible Ibuprofen allergy

confusional migraines

spinal headache (from lumbar puncture)

Chiari malformation

periorbital cellulitis

Poor guy can't catch a break!

Mind Blown

When Pinky was in elementary school, she attended AWANA, a program at our church which disciples children and taught them about missions. Whenever she completed tasks like memorizing Bible verses, she would earn a jewel to put in a crown.

During the sermon at church yesterday, our pastor was talking about earning rewards in heaven. Pinky suddenly realized that the reason she earned those jewels so many years ago is because the Bible talks about it. 

It all comes together, doesn't it?

The Ladies' Man Strikes Again

The Brain sprained his elbow at church this week. It wasn't until 11 p.m. that it began to hurt so badly that he said he needs to go to the E.R. So, at nearly midnight, the girl from billing entered the room to ask him some question for her records, and the Brain put on the charm.

Billing girl: Are you married?

The Brain [not really understanding why she was asking a 12YO boy his marital status] Noooo...

Billing girl [grinning]: I had to ask.

The Brain: [grinning charmingly]: I'm a handsome boy. I can see where you got confused.

#momfail

Today was Pinky's birthday. In trying to be the good mom, the loving mom, the Stepford mom, I made breakfast for her. Not just cereal or toast or a Poptart. I made French toast.

On the way to school, the Brain informs us that it's National Pancake Day.

[facepalm]

Word Wiz

The Brain just realized why the afternoon is called AFTERnoon. Vocabulary has never been his strength.

The value of education

My family sat down this evening to watch a cooking competition show. The mother of one of the chefs said, "I think Andrew is going to put New Jersey on the map."

Pinky observed, "New Jersey IS on the map."

The Bieb

The Brain is a little behind the times. He has decided to let his hair grow out. Now that it's begun to fall in his eyes, he has developed an odd neck spasm.

The Brain [spasming dangerously close to me]: Oh! I did the hair flip and almost hit you!

Me: Yeah, you could put an eye out with that flip! It's dangerous!

The Brain: Dangerously sexy.

Me [cringing]: I'm not sure I like my 12YO son being called sexy.

SuperD [chuckles]

The Pick Up Artist

Ah! The joys of sixth-grade boys! The brain has a friend who likes a girl. This friend tasked him with the job of finding pick up lines he could use to impress this girl. Like any diligent student, my son rose to the task and threw himself into the assignment with all of the determination of a dedicated researcher.

Here are his results:

Hey baby, can you send me a picture of yourself so I can tell my mom what I want for my birthday?

Hey baby, I'm doing an assignment on the finer things in life. I was wondering if you wanted an interview. 

Hey baby, do you believe in love at first sight or should I back out and rejoin the lobby? [Huh?]

Hey baby, did you eat Lucky Charms for breakfast? Because you sound magically delicious!

Hey baby, is your name Google? Because you're everything I'm searching for.

Hey baby, if you were the new hamburger at McDonald's you could be the McGorgeous!

Hey baby, if you were a grenade you would be a stun grenade.

Hey baby, is your dad a terrorist? Because you da bomb, girl.

Hey girl, I think you have something in your eye. No wait. It's just a sparkle.

Hey girl, my love for you is like diarrhea. I just can't hold it in.

Hey girl, I lost my teddy bear. Can I cuddle you instead?

Hey girl, is your middle name Broom? Because you swept me off my feet.

Hey girl, did you just fart? Because you blew me away!

[I edited out two which were inappropriate. I'm not sure the Brain realized they were sexual in nature. SuperD may need to address that one.]

Hey girl, my name isn't Elmo, but you can tickle me anytime!

Hey girl, do you have a library card? Because I'm checking you out.

Here I am. What are your other two wishes?

Can you feel my shirt? Oh, right. It's made of boyfriend material.

Smooth, Brain. However, you may want to caution your friend against comparing girls to farts and diarrhea. I'm fairly sure that will not have the desired effect.

Ah, if only the Brain would put as much effort into his classroom assignments!

Wait. What?

The Brain asked me if I was a hipster back in the 80's.

It's all so clear now

Pinky recently watched VeggieTales' King George and the Ducky. She hadn't seen it in years. I can't tell you how many times we watched that video. (Yes, it was a VHS. I told you it had been a while.) So today she tells me that she just realized that it's the story of King David and Bathsheba. 

Analogy fail.