Holy Crap it's cold! The temperature has taken a serious dive this week! Last night we had precipitation that could reasonably be called "snow," if you didn't know what snow was supposed to really look like. Whatever it was, it was white, it was falling from the sky, and it was cold as hell.
But when I think of snow, I think of REAL snow. Here's a great link to a video of a dog playing in the snow that.... if it doesn't make you smile.... you're dead.
http://www.dogwork.com/dogsnow/
Anyway... there was a tiny bit of snow on the ground this morning and Grayson was all kinds of excited about it, despite the bone-cracking cold and wind.
I am a horrifying failure at Christmas shopping this year. Granted, I think I have a half-way decent excuse for being somewhat distracted, but really the time has come to get my act together and start making a list and checking it twice.
Grayson is strangely difficult to buy for this year. Primarily this is because all he cares or thinks about is SPORE. And Spore has no new games, so I'm reduced to buying him an overpriced Spore T-shirt online.
He has a room full of toys he never plays with. I truly believe I could have saved myself the hassle of unpacking half of that stuff ... just taken it straight to Good Will, and he wouldn't know the difference. He plays on his computer, he watches TV, and he plays Nintendo DS. Other than that, the toy interactions are fairly slim.
Sigh. Just last week he asked me when he was going to get his own iPod! I told him when he could save up $245!
We are on a losing streak lately when it comes to getting Grayson to school on time.
I think this is the cats' fault.
When I had Kobi and Flower, I got up every morning at 6:30 to take them "walkies" before I got Grayson up. There was no avoiding getting up with Kobi in the house. She's way better than an alarm clock. She climbs up onto your chest and runs her tongue up inside your nose until you get out of bed.
The cats, however, are no help at all. They're even lazier than I am. So I set the alarm for 7 a.m. and hit the snooze until 7:20. By that time I'm already doomed. There is no way to get Grayson up, dressed, fed, coifed and accoutred by 7:45, which is the time we HAVE to leave for school if we're going to be on time. So we cruise out of the house by about 7:55, which means we get Grayson to school 11 to 15 minutes late, which means he has to stop in the office and get a tardy slip before reporting to class.
Then, to compound the problem, half the time I haven't had time to get dressed myself, so I am then obliged to go back to the apartment and take a shower before I can go to work.
Tomorrow, I mean it, Tomorrow we're getting up early enough to be on time!
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Thursday, December 4, 2008
In which Linda is hooked on technology
Okay, sorry to take so long to get to this, but I got sidetracked.
I have to laugh at myself a bit. I'm hooked on instant messaging and text messaging. I had actually had it turned off on my phone because I found it so irritating. But now I've started using it and it seems like I'm beeping away on the cell phone everytime I go anywhere. I don't think I've gotten to the point where I'm one of those people who flips it open in the movie theatre to see what important people are texting me. AND I don't use text shorthand. I do hold on to some vestiges of dignity.
My next big move is Skype. Hoping to figure that out enough to chat with far-flung friends. Guess I need to get a headset or something. I'm not too bright about these things.
Last week I traded dogs for cats. Gray has been after me for a while to take the cats to the apartment and leave the dogs with him. I resisted until after the first really bitterly cold mornings. Finally I gave in. Those 6:30 a.m. walks in the freezing cold, straight out of a nice warm bed will make about anyone willing to trade. So... dogs out. Cats in.
I have spent the past few days re cat-proofing my apartment. I remembered... a bit late... that the cats love to eat fish food and will eat fish if they can get them. I remembered that Nemo cannot resist my bedside lamp, which is now tilted at a drunken angle. I remembered that the cats scream at you and attack your feet if you don't feed them on time. Stuff like that. They also show an unnatural interest in the fireplace ashes that gives me cause for some concern...
Discovered a leak in the bathroom today. My first opportunity to test the response time of my maintenance team. I'll keep you posted.
I miss the dogs. I know Gray will take good care of them and he loves them. But I miss that goofy Kobi face greeting me in the morning with the old tongue up the nose trick.
Grayson spent the weekend with Gray. His lip looks much better today. The doctor pulled the stitches this afternoon. There will be a little scar, a little tuck on the lower lip, but it's not too noticeable. There's still a scab on his lip where it split, but the stitches themselves have healed up very nicely. I'm hoping Grayson will let me actually take a photo of him this week. He's been very adamant about not having his picture taken since the accident.
I have to laugh at myself a bit. I'm hooked on instant messaging and text messaging. I had actually had it turned off on my phone because I found it so irritating. But now I've started using it and it seems like I'm beeping away on the cell phone everytime I go anywhere. I don't think I've gotten to the point where I'm one of those people who flips it open in the movie theatre to see what important people are texting me. AND I don't use text shorthand. I do hold on to some vestiges of dignity.
My next big move is Skype. Hoping to figure that out enough to chat with far-flung friends. Guess I need to get a headset or something. I'm not too bright about these things.
Last week I traded dogs for cats. Gray has been after me for a while to take the cats to the apartment and leave the dogs with him. I resisted until after the first really bitterly cold mornings. Finally I gave in. Those 6:30 a.m. walks in the freezing cold, straight out of a nice warm bed will make about anyone willing to trade. So... dogs out. Cats in.
I have spent the past few days re cat-proofing my apartment. I remembered... a bit late... that the cats love to eat fish food and will eat fish if they can get them. I remembered that Nemo cannot resist my bedside lamp, which is now tilted at a drunken angle. I remembered that the cats scream at you and attack your feet if you don't feed them on time. Stuff like that. They also show an unnatural interest in the fireplace ashes that gives me cause for some concern...
Discovered a leak in the bathroom today. My first opportunity to test the response time of my maintenance team. I'll keep you posted.
I miss the dogs. I know Gray will take good care of them and he loves them. But I miss that goofy Kobi face greeting me in the morning with the old tongue up the nose trick.
Grayson spent the weekend with Gray. His lip looks much better today. The doctor pulled the stitches this afternoon. There will be a little scar, a little tuck on the lower lip, but it's not too noticeable. There's still a scab on his lip where it split, but the stitches themselves have healed up very nicely. I'm hoping Grayson will let me actually take a photo of him this week. He's been very adamant about not having his picture taken since the accident.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
A bad day for lips
Got a call shortly after lunch from Gray. Grayson fell down on some rocks at lunch and fell on his face: bit through his bottom lip and chipped a tooth. Gray was on the way to the doctor.
An hour later I got the call that the doctor had said stitches were in order and recommended we get them done by a plastic surgeon, since we wanted t0 be sure of as little scarring as possible. So they made the appointment for us and I met them for the drive to the office.
First of all, Grayson's lip looks like hell. I took some pictures with my phone, but now he doesn't want me to take any more because he's self conscious. He skinned his chin, and his lip is swelled up to twice its normal size on the side where he bit through.
The doctor, a nice, no-nonsense Indian man, was very straightforward with Grayson. He looked at the lip and then said (you have to imagine an Indian accent here)
"Well, I can give you a local anesthetic, clean you up and put you back together. Do you know what a local anesthetic is?
Grayson shrugged.
"Have you been to the dentist? Did they numb your mouth?"
A nod. "So you know about the shot that they use?"
He just stared at the man with the biggest, saddest eyes. A tiny nod.
"It's just like that. I will use the smallest needle that I can. You will feel a burning as the anesthetic goes in. Do you think you can take that?"
A nod. I was so proud of him. His eyes were shining like beads, but no tears welled over.
And he was brave through the shot. He just said "Ow. That hurts" and he whimpered. But he didn't move a muscle. Even though the doctor jabbed him all through the lip with that needle, and we could see the anesthetic running through the hole where his teeth had gone through. I don't know if I would have been as brave, myself. He shed not a tear.
He was quivvery through the stitching, but didn't complain or move. The doc gave him seven stitches. One inside the flesh of the lip, one on the inside of the lip, and five on the front. It was quite a gash.
Now he's at home, watching TV and holding an ice pack on his poor swollen lip. He's very self-conscious about it because it is so swollen, and the stitches are black. I told him the swelling would go down, and he won't look, as he says, "like Frankenstein" tomorrow at school.
Poor kid.
An hour later I got the call that the doctor had said stitches were in order and recommended we get them done by a plastic surgeon, since we wanted t0 be sure of as little scarring as possible. So they made the appointment for us and I met them for the drive to the office.
First of all, Grayson's lip looks like hell. I took some pictures with my phone, but now he doesn't want me to take any more because he's self conscious. He skinned his chin, and his lip is swelled up to twice its normal size on the side where he bit through.
The doctor, a nice, no-nonsense Indian man, was very straightforward with Grayson. He looked at the lip and then said (you have to imagine an Indian accent here)
"Well, I can give you a local anesthetic, clean you up and put you back together. Do you know what a local anesthetic is?
Grayson shrugged.
"Have you been to the dentist? Did they numb your mouth?"
A nod. "So you know about the shot that they use?"
He just stared at the man with the biggest, saddest eyes. A tiny nod.
"It's just like that. I will use the smallest needle that I can. You will feel a burning as the anesthetic goes in. Do you think you can take that?"
A nod. I was so proud of him. His eyes were shining like beads, but no tears welled over.
And he was brave through the shot. He just said "Ow. That hurts" and he whimpered. But he didn't move a muscle. Even though the doctor jabbed him all through the lip with that needle, and we could see the anesthetic running through the hole where his teeth had gone through. I don't know if I would have been as brave, myself. He shed not a tear.
He was quivvery through the stitching, but didn't complain or move. The doc gave him seven stitches. One inside the flesh of the lip, one on the inside of the lip, and five on the front. It was quite a gash.
Now he's at home, watching TV and holding an ice pack on his poor swollen lip. He's very self-conscious about it because it is so swollen, and the stitches are black. I told him the swelling would go down, and he won't look, as he says, "like Frankenstein" tomorrow at school.
Poor kid.
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