Alison Hodgson

Expert on the etiquette of perilous times.

Archives for March 2009

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Today several fourth graders mistook Eden for a third grader.  They were all amazed to learn that she is, in fact, a Kindergartner.  

Paul recently measured the kids. Lydia, at 5’6 1/2″ continues to stretch up, having passed her Aunt Torey and is now gaining on me. Christopher is growing too, though he trails Lydia by a couple of inches.  Eden at six and two months is 4’1″.  
When Eden finished telling me about wowing the fourth graders I glanced at her in the rear view mirror.  Her eyes were shining and there was a big smile on her face.  
“How do you feel about that?”  I asked 
“Excited.”  She quickly replied.

http://alisonhodgson.com/2009/03/309/

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Paul’s Facebook has contracted a terrible virus. In his name porn is being distributed to all his “Friends”. He became aware of the problem late Friday and tried to correct it yesterday to no avail. He can’t get into his account.

Last night at Torey and David’s we told them all about it, including the first e-mail he received alerting him to the situation. A friend of all of ours, who happens to attend church with Paul and me had opened Paul’s message with her kids at the computer.

They all got an eyeful.

I’m not sure she knew what to think. It was like she wanted him to know that – in future – she would prefer to pass on the porn, as if was just another annoying (and particularly offensive) forward on Facebook. Sort of, “Some of us don’t approve of that stuff” as if Paul does! Her closing line was, “Other than that, how’s the family?”

We all started laughing at the terrible ridiculousness of Paul sending porn to all his church friends.

This morning, as we were getting ready Paul asked, “So how many people do you bet come up today at church to tell me about Facebook?”

“You hope they’re coming up to you.” I said.

He thought for a moment.

“Good point.” He said.

http://alisonhodgson.com/2009/03/310/

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Kids, it’s getting ugly over here.  I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in at least two weeks.  Last night I got into bed at 7:30 to read to Eden and passed out a little after 8.  I awoke at 11:30 and snuggled next to Paul who obligingly lifted up his arm to give me passage.  
“Were you awake?”  I asked.
“I just went to the bathroom.”
So that was it.  He frequently wakes me up using the facilities despite every ninja like caution, but it gave me pause since I had come to at 9:30 when he had gotten into bed with his laptop and  I asked him time before drifting back to sleep.  This meant he needed up again less than two hours after going to bed.  He’s in his 40’s now, but I was hoping his prostate would make the long haul…or at least to 50.
“I think you need to see a urologist.”  I told him.
“What!”  He removed his arm and rolled over.
I told him my concern.
“What are you talking about!  I haven’t been to the bathroom since I went to bed!”
“You said you just went!”
And then I remembered that I married a madman who frequently talks in his sleep, sounding as lucid as I am until he becomes enraged, starts recanting things he said one minute previously and rolls over in a huff.  This is usually when my amnesia clears and I roll over too feeling maritally doomed.
I was still awake at 4:00 when he got up to use the facilities for real. When he returned I related our earlier exchange.  He laughed and went back to sleep.  I’m not sure when I passed out finally, but I awoke at 10:00 feeling like a brick wall had fallen on my head.    I still feel foggy and grey though the sun is shining and it’s a beautiful day.
On the up side I’m becoming an expert in Roman, early American and 20th century Chinese history, which would be great if I was a professor or something.  My occupation as human/wife/mother/homekeeper doesn’t really have much of a call for varied historical specialties.
“My kingdom (and by kingdom I mean anything I got left) for a horse (and by horse I mean a good night’s sleep)!”  That would be Richard the III on whose character historians sharply disagree…
I forgot I’ve got English history down pretty much cold, as well as the history of the English language and I’m starting to bone up on 16th century Holland…
This is probably a cry for help.

http://alisonhodgson.com/2009/03/315/

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The little girl pictured below is sick and has been for a couple days and – God help us – nights. Tending a vomiting child is never a delight especially in the middle of the night, when you’ve already changed the sheets, been pooped on, splattered with vomit and awakened several times. Every time Eden awoke I ran to her side, stroked her head, cleaned up the mess, tucked her back in and then – per her request – slid in beside her to stay until she fell asleep. Once her breathing deepened I would creep back to the comfort of my own bed until the next awakening, of which there were many.

Both nights Paul has been up for most of the rounds but last night I let him sleep through a couple. This morning he woke first, made coffee and then woke me with a fresh cup in one of my treasured jadeite cups. I was clutching it to my chest, waiting for it to cool when Eden climbed into bed beside me, wafting a vile smell. I held it up high while she snuggled in beside me. Paul returned with his own mug and the paper.

Once I was fully awake I began to sip my coffee and took a good look at him. Despite knowing that he had showered the morning before he looked like it had been days, maybe weeks. I commented on his appearance and tried to make an algebraic equation out of his lack of sleep directly proportional to the greasiness of his hair.

“If h = hours…” but that’s as far as I could get. We both began to laugh and I fell into his arms.

“And now Daddy and Mama are going to do some kissing, Eden,” I warned. All our kids are embarrassed by any public displays of their parents’ affection.

“Oh no!” She said and turned her head away. “Why do you have to kiss so much?”

“You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for our kissing!” Paul and I said in unison.

“Other people don’t kiss as much as you do!”

“Who?” I demanded.

And then she named names.

“How do you know? You aren’t around them all the time?”

She conceded the point with her silence.

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My brother, Tanner, asked in the comments below, “Has OTJ fallen and can’t get up?”
The short answer is: sort of, but have we ever contented ourselves with the short answer here at OTJ?  No.
The long answer is:  
I’ve been sick, A LOT, like never, in my entire life like this.  I’ve had the flu once and then a relapse, a cold and about three sinus infections since summer.  I can go a year without getting sick or only succumb once, but not this winter.  I need to address the new sitchiation with my sinuses and make that a priority.
I have three children in three different schools, one of which is my own.  Things are going quite well and I don’t feel like I’m rushing around, but time flies.  It’s Friday then Monday, then Thursday – oh Friday again!  In between is a blur of pouring the water for coffee, making lunches, signing papers, hustling Eden to Kindergarten and back, teaching Christopher, helping Lydia with homework, chasing Jack, who runs to the neighbors at least once a day (We’ve GOT to fix that fence!), cooking and cleaning, a little laundering, talking to Paul before he passes out and sleeping when I am able.
This winter I realized that I am so pathetically easy.  If the sun comes out even once a week it keeps me from clawing my eyes.  I have also determined that we WILL set aside funds this year to go somewhere warm for mid-winter or spring break.  I don’t care if selling plasma or organs is needed to balance the budget – it’s going to happen.
We are all doing well, though every day is a navigation of new territory as we have a teen now as well as a tween, and the redoubtable Bean.  Yowza!  It has become clear that taking care of one’s health is necessary to parent well.
In the distance I can hear Christopher talking to a librarian, which makes me smile. The library is now my online connection.  Something is still wonky with our router and calling India is somewhere after laundry on my list of things to do.  Regular readers know what that means.  It’s actually been good, as I find it so easy to spend too much time online, especially in the winter.
So we’re here, we’re quee…oh wait.  We’re here and eventually we’ll be back more regularly. 

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