Gussie was down last week for 3 days with a 103 fever. He basically just slept off the fever for three days with no other symptoms, which is a pretty easy illness to deal with except the part where it's a little terrifying because you have no idea what he's fighting. And the part where a little fireball of a toddler just wanted to curl up in my pregnant lap for three days and nights. I like it a lot better when he's feeling like normal Gussie.
The kids had their monthly gymnastics play time last week as well. I usually don't try to take many pictures because they are all through a glass window covered in chalky kid handprints, but here are a few little peeks.
Gussie is just *dying* to get his turn in the gym. But he has to be 3 for that class, so for now he has to be content with climbing equipment at the playground.
He discovered recently he can climb this one and make it over the gap at the top all on his own. It's his new favorite thing. Unfortunately I can't sit back like I was to take this picture while he climbs it because if I'm not standing right next to the ladder every mom, dad, grandma, grandpa, and school kid in the playground rushes over to stop him from trying it. Am I the only one who thinks that looks perfectly appropriate for a 2-year-old?
Have I mentioned Daddy's home? Daddy's home!!! The kids are all very happy to have their running, bike riding, wrestling, singing, and 80s dance party partner back.
Gussie LOVES piggy back rides right now.
I'm pretty sure Catherine and Mary have told everyone about these but I forgot to put up the picture. Dema was very faithful in collecting shells during their time in the Bahamas and mailed a big box to the kids when they returned stateside. These two happened to have little stowaways in them. Don't worry, Dema insists the little crabs had already died inside the shells on the beach before she picked them up.
Speaking of dead animals, I have to record this little story. A few days ago Mary was looking out the window to the backyard and exclaimed that a squirrel was sleeping on the patio. Then she noticed a bunch of flies bothering it and wondered if maybe it was actually dead. It was. All the kids ran to look and I told them we needed to get rid of it before the chickens found it. Catherine heard "get rid of it" and all but snapped at me, "We can't throw it in the dumpster! It's one of God's creatures! We have to bury it!" So I'm looking around the yard, thinking I don't want to bury a squirrel in the front yard (because the dirt there is like concrete, among other reasons) and I don't want to bury a squirrel within the chicken confines because they might try to dig it up again, and I don't want to bury a squirrel near any of the garden boxes that grow things we eat... so we buried the squirrel as far to the back of the yard near the alley as possible, which happens to be right near my door to the van. The kids were all very somber as I dug the hole and they spent some time surmising what its life was like and how it died, and when I scooped up the squirrel with the shovel and placed it in the bottom, Michael Jr offered a very heartfelt "poor fellow..." and Catherine wished it a happy time in heaven. I'm pretty sure there were a few tears in the crowd as I filled the hole with dirt and tamped it down. Of course they then had to find an appropriate large stone to mark the grave, which Catherine and Mary then decorated with a pattern of smaller stones around it, and a couple small wildflowers from the yard. And then the job was completed properly and with dignity and we continued on with our day.
I don't know why these things never seem to happen when Daddy's home.
1 comment:
Great story about the passing of Mr. Squirrel.
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