Saturday Night

I just tucked the kids in. I just love those kids. It's way too late, almost 10 p.m. I am thinking about how much I've loved spending time with them over this last week, and how I will be going back to work on Monday. I can't wait until this stretch is over. I'll be happy to spend my days with my kids and husband again.

Gertie has been calling things "stuffses," as in, "Mommy, throw those stuffses into the water and I'll pull them out." I love that. She is still going through some serious whining spurts, and I'm still plugging away asking her to say it again without whining, but progress is slow. It is getting better, though. I took her to the doctor yesterday because her tonsils are the size of grapes, and there are some white spots on them. The strep test was negative, so it is just a virus is the word from the doctor. Tonight I asked her if her throat hurt, and she told me no, that Dr. DeSilva made it better. It still doesn't look good. The other issue was the snorting and snoring and foaming at the mouth as she sleeps. She always sleeps with her mouth open, and she creates these foamy bubbles. She stops breathing for a few seconds pretty regularly. It is very restless. She's going to see an ENT. I'll be glad for solutions, but I am not hoping for surgery. I need to not get overly concerned yet.

Ethan is just as goofy as ever. I just have the most stereotypical kids in so many ways. I don't think he's as naughty as John was at his age, but he loves to pester his sister, or me, for that matter. I bought him a new bat yesterday. $30! That was after we'd shopped around a bit. I really can't believe they are that expensive. Anyway, he is so thankful, and telling me over and over how great I am. Today we were outside, he was hitting the ball around, and a guy from the neighbor's yard said to him as he was chasing a ball close to their yard, "You throw like a girl." I didn't hear it, but he came to me almost in tears. I am not sure that they really said that, or that they said it to him. I just don't know. I can't imagine an adult shouting that to a 9-year-old boy in his own yard. But he was really hurt by it. I kind of wanted to say something to them, ask him if he said that, ask him why, tell him how rude it was. I don't know. I also don't want to get riled up about something that isn't that big of a deal. We've had a pretty good relationship with our neighbors. They weren't outside at the time. I think they were drinking beer, which could help a person come up with a mean-spirited remark to a child. Anyway, I'm not sure why I'm writing it down. It is just on my mind.

We are preparing for Grace's birthday party. She invited six girls, and two can't come, and three can come for only part of the time--it's a sleepover. She is disappointed. I'm sure it'll be a good time for her, though. They are going to make duct tape purses, eat pizza, play Apples to Apples, jump on the trampoline with the sprinkler underneath it. I wasn't really going to make another cake, but maybe I should. I better see what she'd like.

My husband is asleep on the couch. He's not been feeling the best either. He turns his grades in on Monday, so that will be the end of his summer work. We just found out that his mom got an apartment. It opens on the 1st of August. I am so happy that she'll get out of her house. It is just that now the big job of getting her out of that house is fast approaching. It will be such a relief, though, and she is so excited. I am thinking maybe I already blogged about that. Sorry for the repeat.

Dial M for Murder is on tv. Good old movie. I think I'll sign off. Church in the morning. I've been missing it.