I'm BORED

Go ahead, take a screen shot.  You have never seen those words anywhere near my name before.  Seriously, this is a crisis I tend to generally avoid. 

Explanation, the Boy's follow up appointment with the great Camille Crawford didn't go as well as I expected.  He is still on the mend but has some "junkiness" in his right lung that requires further treatment.  It also requires REST and fluids.  Every time the poor child sits down somewhere he falls asleep.  I can not in good conscience go at our typical pace.  That would be negligent.... I guess.

If you follow the boy's coming and goings, you might be tricked into believing I am special.  Not true.  The boy is special.  What I am is .... FRIGHTENED to death to be at home alone with a little boy and all of that energy with no help absorbing any of it. 

I could end up like my friend Marjorie at work who babysits her 8yr old nephew every Saturday morning.  Poor Marjorie.  She doesn't have any children, so she is not prepared with the arsenal of weapons to keep a young man from wearing YOU down.   She plays basketball with this kid... INDOORS...then they move it OUTDOORS...then SHE fixes lunch while HE rests....whats wrong with that picture?  Marjorie works more hours than I do.  On Saturday that kid goes home with something left in his tank and she is WIPED out... NEVER I say.... NEVER.  

My goal at the beginning of each day is to still be standing when the boy is laid out!   Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I fail.  But, I promise you I win WAY more than I lose.   The boy actually helped me a lot as a toddler by refusing to take a nap.  He just wouldn't do it.   Eventually, I figured out that it was to my advantage.  

On a typical Saturday, I get up, exercise, make up some waffle batter and wait.  While he's sleeping I am getting myself together. When he wakes up I am fully dressed, made up and ready to roll.  You cant let a kid be sitting around relaxing while you work...that's going to be a situation down the road. 

I get him up at the last minute and make him run like HELL.   Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry!   Brush your teeth in the shower, quick get dressed, pack up.  When he gets out of the shower, I load him up on waffles or pancakes... nothing invites Negritis like something with syrup on it!   Then grab a bag let's go.  The bag will have equipment for whatever game he's playing that day...typically basketball or baseball.  Off we go to the game.  When the game is over, we have to go to the cages... batting cages or to a gym to work on that hook shot... but back to back activity is always good.   Then to the grocery store...try Sam's, nothing wears them down like those concrete floors.  Go up and down ALL of the aisles.  Hey, Dhanis doing a book signing.  Let's go bake a cake and stop through.   Cyclones are in town, let's go to the game.  Let's go to Dayton, catch a Dragon's game.

At 11pm we are pulling down the drive way... He's nodding.  He'd be asleep but I won't let him go.  Every time he doses off, I ask a question he can't answer so he has to Google it.  We get in.  Hot bath.  Quick snack and at 11pm he's cooked. 

I WON!   I turn on the TV search through my recorded shows find that episode of Basketball Wives, poor a glass of wine and lay down on the divan.  

The next morning I wake up.  Full glass of wine on the end table.  Unwatched episode of Basketball Wives still cued up.  Oh well, I STILL WON!

The Screenplay

Spencer made it thru the class trip to Williamsburg.   Thought today's "Boy Story" would be best as a show and tell.  On the left is Spen2 and the boys about to board the airplane..... and on the right is Spen2 and the boys coming back on Tuesday night.    If you are not laughing there is something terribly wrong with you! 

Using the AFTER photo as inspiration, Spen2 and I are writing the screen play ....

From the Archives--- The Birthday Story 12/2/12

12/02/12

10 yrs ago today, I got up, got dressed, nervous, talked to Spen1 as he left for work to manage our business then spoke to my dad about his meal plans while I was gone (in 10yrs a lot can happen--for those of you that don't know, our business closed in 2003, my father died in 2005and my husband, Spen1 died in 2007). My mother picked me up and we left for Good Sam Hospital... pulled into the parking area reserved for expecting mothers going into deliver.  I had to convince the lot attended that I was, in fact, going to give birth THAT day. Though I didn't look at all pregnant, I was. Moreover, I was uncomfortable and not leaving the hospital until someone took this child, who was clearly already in the process of perfecting his flip turns, out of me.... that was non negotiable.

I had an amnio to confirm that the lungs were fully developed. The doctor proclaimed that they were and while 3wks early it was safe to take him out.  Good deal, cuz he WAS coming out, the flip turns were brutal!

I went into pre-op, Spen1 isn't there yet. They hook me up to monitors and determine that I was having BIG contractions....I felt NOTHING...well nothing except the flip turns! Spen1 isn't there yet.

I get an epidural....Spen1 isn't there yet. Delivery time scheduled for 1pm...Spen1 rushes in at 12:44! Gets scrubbed in puts on the mandatory green gown surgical cap and mask..and proceeds to CLOWN posing for pictures... my lower body was numb so I couldn't get up and choke him! Into the OR we go...my sister arrives just as we head out. 1:00 they make the incision. Ob/Surgeons do everything they can, but they can't get him out...they call for the head of High Risk Ob... he gets there ,scrubs in, while the 2 lil ob/surgeon docs pull from either side, he comes in and lifts the boy right out ...1:31pm then declares "that's a ten pound baby!" They wipe him off and present him to his daddy.... who declares "oh my God, he's beautiful!" Then he leans down so I can see... 

 

THIS CHILD IS LILLY WHITE. What the heck???

 

I scream "he's white!" 

 

Spen1 says "he's so beautiful".

 

I say "he's WHITE!"... he's not paying me any attention he now (and from that moment on) only had eyes for his son!

Then I smell something burning...and I kinda see some smoke... I finally ripped Spen1s attention from gazing into his sons eyes and asked

 

"am I on fire?" 

 

He looks down and gasps "damn baby that's you!"

 

 Now I am really pissed "you are going to let these people kill me! Go get my sister, NOW." Well, the medical professionals assure me I'm OK, the just had to cauterize and I was getting sewn up right now.

Back to recovery room. Uncle Albert had shown up with the girls Nikita and Camille...who were anxiously awaiting the arrival of there cousin.... He was given to my mother who, like Spen1 immediately became entranced... and Camille leans over her shoulder to look...at which point mini-me proclaims

 

"he's cute....but why is he WHITE?"

 

My mom was pissed, he's not white (yes he was), he'll be just fine. Cheryl tried to make it better

 

"let's look at his ears, oh, hmmm they are white too!"  

 

They put me in a private room with my little white baby (8lbs 5oz by the way, not 10) and my mom calls our pastors, Teresa Smith and Michael Langford, and I could hear them screaming in excitement thru the phone.... my mother thought I was distracted by a nurse so she whispers something about the baby being a little "pale" but beautiful....I believe prayers started then ---prayer works!

So, here I am today, 10 years later, having travelled a very rocky road, saying. Happy Birthday, Spencer Craig Boyd II! You are a mighty little man of God. You are blessed and highly favored. Your father owns the cattle on 1000 hills so never let it be that you have not because you've asked not. Ask and it shall be given. Knock and the door will open for you. Never let fear enter your life because there is nothing too hard for God and with God all things are possible. Always remember that God loves you and so does your mommy!

More from the Archives--Spen2 and his Thug Life Friends

Presidents Day, 2013

 

okay its been a while...here's your funny boy story for the week...

 

I don't often get a chance to reciprocate the kindness of the Stay At Homes from the fancy private school who are always inviting Spen2 to come and hang out with their kids at their homes.  When Spen2 gets a day off, I will often take it with him.   On this particular day I invited 2 of his basketball teammates from the fancy private school for Lunch (Sushi--since I'm paying) and Bowling.  

I am in the car with Spen2 and his boyz (let's just say it was a DIVERSE setting) headed downtown for sushi... I hear them talking amongst themselves about the one kid getting "jumped".  I have always been confused about what that means.  My guess is it means 2 things  #1 there was a fight... #2 you lost. So I query...

 

"what do you mean you got jumped?" --see this kid lives in East Walnut Hills... how do you get jumped in East Walnut Hills? Wait for it...its coming...

 

His response "Well I was riding bikes with my brother and these kids got off the bus" --BOOM, the bus, there it is.  Gotta be those Withrow kids!

 

"and they were kicking my brother" ---wow, kicking, that's a BEAT DOWN--

 

"and some of those girls "---

 

 SCREECH...

 

 and then I hear it from Spen2 and his other buddy... LOUD and in tandem with incredulity

 

"G-I-R-L-S?????!!!"

 

I'm sorry, I know I am terrible, but I laughed uncontrollably. Now here's the very funniest part of it all...after they said "GIRLS???!!" in sync, neither of those boys said another word... with the diplomacy of future presidents, they just turned and looked out of the window as if it hadn't been said...

 

THAT was even funnier.

From the Spen2 archives

Since the boy is out of town, I thought I would take the suggestion of one of my blogging mentors and relate some classic Spen2 funnies for you.   

Where to start? How about this classic.....

Spen2 had a severe speech impediment when he was younger.  He's advanced, gifted.  He's a genius with papers.  He started talking really early and had complex thought processes to express.  6 yr old brain 10 month old mouth, not a good match.  Couple that with an adoring family all too eager to translate for him, and you have got yourself a situation!

Almost everything in his vocabulary started with a T or a D.  At 11months he ate a fruit cup at TGI Fridays and declared to the waitress that it was Tan-tas-tic.  He had names for the girls ...Nikita was KiKi, makes sense.  Camille, on the other hand, was NuNu....we still don't know why. But, she answered to it.  Heck, we all started calling the child Nunu. 

By the time he was ready for preschool, it was pretty darned bad.  He would be frustrated if his translators weren't around and even more so when his translator missed the mark.  For instance, there was the time his aunt took him out for dinner and he wanted a Sprite, which to him was "Ray".  Everyone at the table was darned near in tears by the time Auntie reached me on the phone for the translation.

So, it's preschool time.  I take him with me to check out Mt Healthy Preschool-- as he had quit the previous school after ONE day because they made him take a nap.  We encounter Ms Brenna.  She notices his speech and mentions it to me.  I explain that he's been diagnosed but there is a waiting list for therapy through Children's.  She tells me he can receive Speech Therapy through the preschool.... And is FREE.  As a matter of fact, the preschool is free if he needs it.  She goes to get the Speech Therapist, who thinks I'm just trying to work the system to get free preschool.  She's quite skeptical.  She asks him to count to ten. And it went something like this:  ton' two, tree, tore, tive, tix, teven, tate, dine, ten.  The therapist first grinned then gave him the "sad eyes" like "poor baby".  Me, being ever prideful, couldn't stand the thought that this woman might think my baby wasn't bright... So I said Spen2, "do it again, this time in Spanish".... here we go:  toono, does, tres, twato, tinko, tace, tiete, toocho,  tueve, deis.  That prompted riotous laughter from the teacher and the therapist.  The therapist proclaimed it to be the cutest thing she ever saw, "but, we've gotta fix that".

Spen2 began preschool and, as is his nature, pretty much took it over.  He became a teacher's aide of sort.  It wasn't unusual for any new student to be assigned to Spen2 for mentoring.  Makes sense until the new student in visually impaired.  Spen2 comes home and tells me all about the new young lady in his class that can't "tee".  A few days go by and I ask him how things are going with the new girl.  He tells me things are not going well.  He keeps trying to show her the activity chart so she knows what to do when.... Me, "but Spencer' isn't she blind?"  He says he knows that, so he reads it to her too.... That's when it hit me, they have pairèd this little visually impaired girl with the little smart alleck, speech impediment boy..... That is tantamount to child abuse!  How was she supposed to know what he was saying she when he couldn't even point to it for her?!  I don't know about you but that made me giggle till I almost wet my pants!

A Parting Glance...or not

So the boy and his comrades from the fifth grade at the fancy private school left for Colonial Williamsburg on Saturday morning.  It's always fun to watch other folks family dynamics.  Times like these I also see so clearly how different my son is.   One young man in the class has real issues being away  from home. As I take pics of Spen2 and his buddies for Facebook, this young lad's parental units are talking him in off the ledge.  Consoling him, cajoling him, telling him he was going to have fun, loving all up on the child. I asked Spen2 what was wrong with the kid.  Spen2's reply "Oh he's just like that, he gets real home sick."  Then Spen2 just goes right on talking to his boys like nothing has happened.   His classmate is coming apart at the seams, and no one is paying any attention to it.   That's a fancy private school for ya.  All that tolerance and diversity of thought.   Ha!  Who besides me is Old School???  That poor kid would have been dead meat at my elementary school!  I went to a private school too, it just wasn't fancy.  My Lord, we would have let that boy HAVE IT!   He would be a thirty year old man still having nightmares about the abuse he endured at the hands of his classmates in Virginia!  I make  mention to another parent that Spen2 has never been like that!  When I dropped him off at preschool on the first day he said good bye, hugged me and walked away.  A few minutes later he saw me hovering and said out of his mouth "Why are you still here?  You have to leave."

As the group departs, there are goodbyes all around.  The kids follow their teachers towards the security checkpoint.  I feel badly walking away without waiting for them to get through the security checkpoint and be out of view.... In case he happens to look back.... Yeah right.   So there I stand, with the parents of the regular kids as, one by one, their kids turned around just to make sure they weren't completely alone.  All of them from the traumatized kid to the fifth grade 'horn dog' eventually turned around

Side note:  the 'horn dogs' mother went running down the aisleway to give him a final hug when he turned around-- there is a therapist in that kid's not too distant future.

How does the story end? You think the boy turned and offered me an acknowledgement, a crooked smile, threw me deuces, somehing sweet and wry..... Heck no!  He walked through that security check point and never looked back.  I wouldn't have it any other way!   A future NBA, MLB, governor, president, pope, has sometimes got to walk alone....so this is good practice for him.:-)

The Great Recovery of 2013

As of last posting, you may recall that The Boy was sick.   Well, as it turns out, The Boy was S--I-C-K! Picked him up from the fancy private school on Tuesday and he admitted to being unable to go to Baseball Practice... yikes.. Hint number two, he was QUIET...oh my...Hint number three, cheeks were bright, Santa Clause, Red.  I took him to the 12yr Nurse Practitioner at The Little Clinic at Kroger in Hyde Park.  She followed instructions, gave a Rapid Strep -- Negative and a Rapid Flu -- Negative.  I had a sense of relief, she recommend rest and fluids.  He will be fine.  

Wednesday, I keep him home, because the fancy private school has a rule. You must be 24hr Fever Free to return to school.  I get it.  I follow directions.  I leave Spen2 at home with my mother for a day of rest, relaxation, Homemade Chicken Noodle Soup,  Family Feud, Gunsmoke and Andy Griffith.  What could be better for recovery?   I pick him up after work.   All is well.   Great, because we have a big agenda ahead. 

 

THE BIG AGENDA

Thursday at school is the BIG 5th Grade Musical.  Its the show all young 'uns at the fancy private school anticipate all year long.  To see the Seniors (5th is the highest grade on this campus) romping about on stage is the traditional first sign of Spring at the fancy private school.   Spen2 has TWO roles in the production.   He has also done the choreography (required of the brown kid at the fancy private school) even though, well, lets just say he's an athlete. His maternal Grandmother can "dance" --well, she could dance well enough not to stand out at a party as a terrible dancer.  With the two artificial hips and one artificial knee, I would bet she could still hit 3 out of 4 Corners (google reference "THE FOUR CORNERS" a dance from the early 70's), but in this family, that's IT... we don't dance.  We are a more cerebral people. :)

Thursday after school is the Celebration of a Great Basketball Season for the 5th Grade Stingers (ALMOST won that 1st round tournament game--insert eye roll). I am to bring my "Grown Up Salad".  There will be Pizza and Cake and fun activities for the boys last hurrah!  This is the last basketball team many of them will ever play on (lets hope).  

Friday last day of school before Spring Break. 

Friday Night finish packing. Out for Spring Break Nikita's Home Celebration Dinner with family.

Saturday 5:45 am report to CVG Airport for a flight out to Colonial Williamsburg for the Spring Break Class Trip with the fancy private school 5th graders.  

So, back to Wednesday night.  Off to bed with a big dose of Golden Seal and Echinacea, double down on the vitamins, orange juice, Slippery Elm Bark tea and ibuprofen.  We should be GOLDEN.   I stay up, make that Grown Up Salad, and my special recipe Honey Balsamic Vinaigrette, refrigerate.  Ahhhh, sweet rest.  I have to be on my A game for an 8:30am meeting.  Also need to somehow slip out to watch this 5th grade musical.  Then I need to clear my desk in anticipation of a 3 day vacation.  The Boy is going to be out of town, it's going to be all about ME!

Thursday morning, I wake up, primp, preen then put on my Power Suit (so everyone will know I am not to be messed with today).  I put my pumps by the door. Then I proceed to wake up the Punkin Baby... Touch him and his like FIRE!  FIRE ...OK, thought I would drop that Ohio Players piece in because that's what was going in my head! 

FEVER 102.7. This is a situation.   Fall back!  Fall back!  What's Plan B?  Heck, I didn't have one.   Off to see the great Camille Crawford MD at Premiere Pediatrics.  Camille Crawford was Spen2s very first pediatrician, she saw him in the hospital when he was born.  She gave him an official diagnosis of GREEDY at 16hrs old.  His primary, Dr. Bradley Jackson (the Alpha man himself) is off on Thursdays, so Dr Crawford graciously agreed to see him.  The Summary of Dr Crawford's findings:

#1 Don't ever take your a@@ back to a Little Clinic....just DON'T do it.  Call us.  Quit trying to out think everybody

#2 This kid has Bronchitis.

#3  This kid has Influenza B.... I don't care what her "little test" at the "little clinic" said.

#4 This kid has the Tri-fecta of illness... he also has a Sinus Infection.  

#5 If you have paid for the child to go to Williamsburg, by gosh, he is GOING to Williamsburg! I LOVE THIS WOMAN!!!

So we have a Plan A, Plan B and Plan C to get this child well in order to board a plane on Saturday Morning.  None of these plans involve a  mom in a power suit.  None of these plans involve a kid on a stage.  None of these plans involve a Basketball Team celebration. 

Here I sit at the kitchen table to tell the story of the Miraculous Recovery of 2013.  Last night consisted of:
Mommas Hot Toddy with Fresh Grated Ginger, Lemons, Honey, Pomegranate Tea, Slippery Elm Bark (and for the momma 2shots of Hennessey)
A Steamy Bath followed by a Vicks Vapor Rubdown
Sleep under 2 blankets and comforter with Long Johns
2 rounds of antibiotics
2 rounds of antivirals
2 kinds of inhalers
1600 mg of ibuprofen
2 anointings with oil
1 hands laying on healing worthy of Jim and Tammy Faye Baker... I was calling those virus/bacteria OUT of my Baby
Lots and lots of prayers by friends, school mates, team mates, doctor, nurses and family

The fever broke at 3:30 am. 

We are GOING to Williamsburg! 

I am GOING TO BED~  after I pack all of this stuff the fancy private school requires him to bring...get the meds together that he will need with him, take him to get a haircut so he doesn't look like a Foosa  theres a picture for those of you that didn't happen to see the movie Madagascar 126 times, like me...

That, ladies and gentleman, is the GREAT RECOVERY OF 2013

PS...will post recipes for items in orange AFTER I recover from the great recovery!

The Punkin Baby is Sick

Oh no! Not the creepy crud!  I picked The Boy up from the fancy private school this evening and he comes to the car with a friend that I told him years ago was unwelcome in my house.... DA Cooties.  No sir I don't care for that freeloader.  Comes all up in your house uninvited, upsets the routine, makes a mess and doesn't want to leave!  He's dirty, always leaving a trail of bodily fluids and used Kleenex. He's lazy, won't do a thing for himself.  Most significantly, he does not understand the boundaries of personal space!   So sad.  I could tell Spencer didn't want him to follow him to the car... But he couldn't shake that DA. 

I went immediately  into Granny Clampitt mode and headed the Natural Foods store for Golden Seal and Slippery Elm Bark. At this point The Boy volunteers to stay out from Baseball practice .... this is serious.... Wonder should I call an ambulance?

We end up going to the Little Clinic at Kroger. The 12 year old Nurse Practitioner follows directions well. She does a Rapid Strep and a Rapid Flu-- nothing so dangerous as a mother of a patient whose sister is a nurse... We know everything. Don't let me mess around and check webmd.com,  I'll have them run a test for the Bubonic Plague.

Its just DA Cootie. Simple virus. Rest and fluids.

But you all know the real deal. This is just a cover. Next time you see Spen2 will be after you see WHITE SMOKE! Have you voted today? LOL

This is how the operating instructions for all new electronics should read. "Open box/carton carefully. Remove device gently. Hand device over to a child under 14. Walk away. Return after your device has been synced' charged, ice cream sandwiched, apps downloaded etc. No sense me getting myself all worked up. "Spencer!"

From the Pool to the Papacy

Those of you that know The Boy (that would be my 10 year old, genius son, Spencer Craig Boyd II or "Spen2") today's Boy Story won't be too surprising. 

The Back Story:  I was raised Catholic.  However, for some time now, I have been non-denominational.   The Boy has been raised in a church that has more Baptist traditions than anything. 

Last week, on our 20 minute morning commute to the fancy private school, I began a conversation with him about the day's news and the Pope's resignation.   I surmised from his blank stare that I had somehow, over the last 10 years, failed to teach him anything about the Catholic Church.   I can't have the boy show up as the fancy private school completely oblivious to such a major World event.   So, I quickly went into training mode.  Take my phone, Google "Apostles Creed". Okay, got it? That's the foundation of the Church. 

Spen2 "How is that different from our church?"
Me "I am not entertaining questions right now... just follow along..."

Then I relate the church to a corporation like Wal-Mart.  A Priest is the Store Manager... Bishop... Cardinal.. all the way to Pope.  I tell him the Pope is the CEO.  I tell him the Pope is alleged to be more powerful that the President of the US.  I tell him that the Pope controls Billions if not Trillions in assets.  I tell him the Pope has a mansion and jewels and The Pope doesn't even walk, they carry him.

You see it coming, right???

Spen2 "I want to be the Pope." 

BOOM!  There it is.  You had to see it coming.   So, for those of you keeping notes,  that would make him the FIRST, African American,  Retired NBA, Retired MLB, Retired One Term Governor, Two Term President of the United States of America with an Olympic Gold in Swimming, Non Catholic (I guess we could fix that) Pope!  Go, Spen2.  Because I am his mom, and slightly crazy, I can see him riding around in that little Pope mobile now... I can see him rounding the bases after hitting a home run with the State Trooper security patrol all around him... I can hear the announcer now "Batting Fourth in the Clean up position, your starting pitcher, Governor Spencer Boyd"... crowd goes wild!

Now, that's FUNNY... but this is even funnier.  

Last night -when I was REALLY cranky from the entire weekend at the swim meet-  I was carrying on about some parent at the "fancy private school" that clearly thought she was in charge of everything!  I was on a rant. 
"I suppose when she walks in we should all genuflect." My son, ever the supportive child, piles on.  He says, "yeah mom, who does she think she is? The Pimp".  Screech... What the??   I love the pile on, but I was confused. 

"The Pimp?" 
"Yeah, remember you told me about him last week.  Hes in charge of the Catholic Church." 
"Oh, son, you mean The Pope.  Please don't say Pimp again."

Just gave myself my own penance... saying Hail Marys through lunch then I will start with The Lords Prayer.  Somebody PLEASE light a candle, lest we both BURN!

Five Words for Ya

Five words....I'M-- STILL-- AT --THE --POOL! Cheerleader mom is quickly morphing into cranky a@@, gotta be at work in the morning, haven't done any laudry, what the heck are we going to eat for dinner?.. Is that milk spoiled?...Will the boy DIE from the spoiled milk if I give it to him? ...Do I have enough gas to make it to work without stopping tonight?...Can I make this hair work tomorrow?...Where is his baseball gear bag for practice tomorrow?... He probably won't go to the Olympics so why don't I make him quit swimming anyway?...I freaking HATE this place...Mom. ...Hmm, not quite as cute.   Maybe even a tiny bit scary.