Tim is 14!

The Cake.
















Is this thing still on??







Happy for some help from Charlie.







The Revelers.


















And Presents.

Billy Joel CDs (replacing well-loved set).
Calendar and singing b-day card ... a big hit.

Lolligaggers...

Disclaimer: Yesterday was not Tim's finest afternoon. As Jack would intone in a goofy, gameshow-announcer voice, "The hole-in-the-wall count is now...SEVEN." But we're all feeling much better now (I hope):


Celebrating Tim's birthday in style...

Whilst Charlie was at preschool, GMK and I got pedicures. Since we did not bring our own manicure kits or liners, we may surely have contracted a new, fresh strain of some fungus, but for the minute, our toes are pink and cute. Mine are polka-dotted in a fetching way, modeled from Patty Kiki's signature toe-look.

Cue the Dueling Banjoes tune:




Please note that this photo required amazing contortions (and not-minor photo editing) in order to get all 4 feet in one shot while avoiding the belly.




Here's Grandma Mary Kay with the blueberry pie she made over the course of 1.5 days! Apparently, she thought everyone stocked their pantries with cornstarch, waxed paper, and regulation flour.


GMK is presently at Von's to procure the desired Von's cake for the Big Sled Dog's birthday celebration. Big Sled Dog starts a new rec program this afternoon so he will arrive home tired and hungry at 6 p.m. to some "good eats- Tim style" (chicken strips and JoJo potato wedges) with his sitter. Cake will follow once Jack, his French horn, Grandma and I have finished Jack's pilgrimage in search of better-sounding French horn melodies (aka, lesson).

Mandatory birthday photos to follow.

LLGA Update (36 weeks + 4)

Spent 3.5 hours at the hospital this morning:

LLGA got an "A" for her first non-stress test.
Normal presentation.
My BP was 113/62.
Lost another pound, which as we can see from the previous blog posting is A-OK.
Labs good.
Amniotic fluid level is fine.

Next week, same drill.

Swimming in San Marcos

Thanks to Peggy and Brian for hosting us this afternoon.










Not pictured:
Excellent hot dogs and burgers being inhaled by the Crab Family.
Brian (because he strategically volunteered to snap the photos).

Also not pictured are the following items tossed unceremoniously into the pool by Charlie:
* half-masticulated celery (2 tx.);
* yellow/white striped beach towel;
* water guns, 2 types (3 tx.); and
* crane/heron/sandpiper (aka, undefined species bird -- mercifully done in resin) statue (2 tx.).


Did memorialize the aftermath of his projectile launching:
* food "fly-screen";

* his water cup;
and
* himself.

The mad flinger strikes again!


To demonstrate my bravery and good humor (and to make amends for Aunt Patty Cake's manga image):

Practicing without a License:Clippers 1, Charlie-boy 0

The time had come all too soon..."No barber, no haircut! I scared of the vacuum (i.e., clippers)! Wet's get out of here!"



The back is a "2" guard, the top is a mishmash of scissors, 'freestyle' clipper usage (probably as BAD an idea as it sounds!) and a futile attempt at a "3" guard. Learned a lesson that Charlie's scar probably requires a bit longer front 'do in the future. Yes, I nicked his ear.



Oh, well...it's summertime and school pictures are months away!

Return of the Conquering J-Crab!

Grandma MK and I fetched Jack from Camp Fiesta Island at 9:19 a.m. today. He was standing at the edge of the campsite, all packed up, with 2 adults in tow. Ready to go. Hoarse. A smidgen sun-burnt. Intact.


Home for a shower and offload of vast quantities of sand.
And, of course, a brotherly outpouring of welcome.



Here are the statistics:
Out of $38, he returns with $2.
Zero evidence that toiletries were utilized on a regular basis. He did report taking 3 showers because the sand bothered him.

2 formerly-blue towels now unrecognizably gray-brown.
2 pairs of underwear worn over 6 days.
5 pairs of socks dirty. (Those would be formerly-white, now gray).

1 pair of shoes officially retired.

1 pair of swimtrunks used, the other (wild yellow Hawaiian print) not used -- he wore slinky hand-me-down athletic shorts instead (and with no undershorts). Egads.
4 merit badges completed. Basketry. Canoeing. First Aid. Oceanography.




Totin' Chip done.
Tenderfood finished (excepting the Board of Review/Scoutmaster's Conference). Hallelujah!!!
Received 5 pieces of mail. It's damp...probably from his errant packing job than from tears.
Photo with dad. Priceless...the incredible paleness of bellying. From the back cover of the bestselling tome, "The Audacity of Awesomeness".



Welcome home, Jackie!

Abbreviated Edition of the Life & Times of the Crab Queen

AM:

Charlie to speech. I ran exactly one errand (Staples, copies) and wrote thank-you notes for Charlie's b-day. Truly exciting stuff.

Call from Ben in which I coached him that saying "I need to talk to the Queen" sounds much more urgent and dramatic than is necessary. Better to say, "just calling to chat". Poor man picking such a precision-vocabulary-demanding spouse.

Tim's annual physical, wherein I learned --
* that Neutrogena T-Gel (TM) is the pediatrician's recommendation for dandruff shampoo (tar without the smell);
* that Neutrogena acne wash (TM) is the pediatrician's choice for salicylic acid treatment;
* that Tim needs 4 shots (yikes);
* that he's dropped from the 95th-plus %ile to between 90-95th for height and only 75th %ile for weight.

Handed in paperwork and a check for his new socialization/recreation program that starts next week before heading home.

Grandma MK strikes again! Not only did Charlie wig out about being left in bis house, but then he fell asleep! Right before lunch! So when I ask if he has a fever or is sick, Grandma MK says, "Well, he doesn't have a 101-degree temperature."

This type of smart-alec commentary, which no one contributes like Grandma MK, makes one wonder: Does he have a 102-degree fever? Or merely a 100.9-degree fever? Or no fever at all?

So I ask -- nay, beg -- her to take his temp to rule out fever as precipitating event for the Highly Unusual, Highly Suspect Slumber.

Later, I call back to discover that he is still asleep and his temperature undetermined. All part of escalating my anxiety level while away, dealing with the medical issues of his siblings.

PM:

With Tim and Grandma MK: CVS Pharmacy to purchase all pediatrician-recommended products above as well as special sunscreens AND the elusive hard-candy for the Labor Bag followed by Von's for groceries so that Tim will stop asking about this week's grocery adventure.

With Just Grandma MK: the PB post office (relatively uneventful, if you exclude the Grandma MK perpetual advisory on how best to mail parcels and envelopes followed by Shell Carwash (just to make the noise stop about how atrocious my van windows' visibility was). It is worth noting that my van's paint job is in extraordinarily great condition -- a fact that I credit in no small part to the continual dust coat it sports. Take that UVA/UVB protection away and I'll be at the auto dermatologist (auto painting joint) just like APC!!

Home again, whence Grandma MK decided (unsolicited!) to de-detritis my van. This involves moving the detritis from the van into the ENTRY WAY OF BIS HOUSE. Not only requiring me to examine said detritis but probably contraindicated by most fire marshal orders.

Nonetheless, in the Ultimate Sacrifice, after preparing the boys' dinner, we went to Mamma Mia's and dined on the patio. The Bleu Cheese & Mushroom filled panzerotti verged on torture to eat. (NOT...think unsweetened funnel cake filled with savory goodness). Note to self: Grandma MK will work for a beer much like Tim will work for 2 cookies.

We then drove to Fiesta Island to investigate Jack's condition and when to retrieve him from camp (either tonight or tomorrow morning). After I had braved the genteel ridicule of sage BSA staff at the main building, learned that Jack was well-known to the camp's medic ("because he has such an unusual name"*) and Grandma MK and I had stood at attention for a closing flag ceremony and announcements, he gave but a brief (and perhaps embarrassed-of-his-family-members) wave and ran off to the chow line with his troop. Meanwhile, we got the lowdown from the adult troop chaperones -- Holly reported that Jack struggled with basketry merit badge "but so did many in the troop" and had a pretty homesick day on Wednesday "as several of the boys did". She volunteered that he got mail on Wednesday and perked up. Simon brought Jack copies of photos of this winter/spring canoe trip, which also seemed to help. (That would be photos with Ben in them, awwww...) Simon, in a Jedi mind trick, instructed me to retrieve Jack at 9:30 a.m. tomorrow. And Grandma MK and I drove back home, not having heard our scout utter even a single syllable.

The evening ended with a phone call from Peds to let me know that Charlie's throat culture showed no other bacterial issues. Finish up the antibiotic for strep and go in peace.


* At first I understood the camp medic to imply that our last name was unusual. As we trudged together toward the flag pole, it became evident that she meant called "Jack" but named "John". Of course faithful blog-followers know this gave Grandma MK another spacious opening to rub her head over LLGA's probable naming. I smilingly said that I hoped the camp medic would work at Girl Scout Camp in 12 years or so to TRULY appreciate the name-'em-one-thing/call-'em-somethin'-else-altogether! Ha!