Monday—Ziggurat meets Mayan temple

Over the weekend Calvin attended a program at the library about healthy eating and living. It was presented by UofM's Natural History Museum, but had been poorly advertised and only one other kid showed up. The truth is, if we hadn't already been at the library for the book sale, we wouldn't have known about it either. As it turned out, Calvin had a great time at the program while I worked the book sale, and he came home with four different starter plants that he planted himself.

So Monday started with a little watering.

In addition to chocolate cherry tomatoes, ladybug tomatoes, green beans, and carrots, Calvin came home with a stuffed red blood cell that he won in a game of Bingo. He named him Mr. Red Blood Cell, of course. I had no idea such a toy existed, but apparently there is a whole line of these things, from brain cells to the black plague, so after breakfast this morning we did a little jogging around the Giant Microbes site (just watch out for the venereals).

Then a little Lego play with Mr. Red Blood Cell and the Ziggurat he and his dad built yesterday.

Ziggurat, meet Mayan temple.

Mayan temple, meet Ziggurat.

There was some nomadic hunter gatherer play, obviously set in the time before farming but after domestication of wild animals. Either that or this nomadic hunter is in serious danger.

Calvin did some cut paper art, and we read all our library books over again—lots of great story books about the evolution of farming, technology, and eventually civilizations. While I was on the treadmill he read The Enormous Egg, and while I was showering he watched a few Schoolhouse Rock videos.

I had a dentist appointment this afternoon (possibly my least favorite thing) while Calvin got some Gram and Grampa time. Then the store, a walk with Iris, tea with tangrams.

And a piano lesson for everyone.

Getting a little help

Iris has been with us for three wonderful weeks now and we have loved every minute. They've been productive weeks, too: She no longer surfs the counters for food and willingly (or at least obediently) stays in the family room while we sit in the kitchen and eat, she no longer yanks and pulls at the leash when we're out for walks, and for the most part she goes straight to her own bed at night without even trying to jump in with us. She has most certainly made life interesting as of late.

We love Moose and Ollie, too, of course. The difference being that Moose and Ollie are both twelve years old and are perfectly happy to sleep all day and hardly notice that we are here. Iris, on the other hand, is active and playful. She wants to be right in the middle of whatever it is you are doing. She especially loves to try and get in my lap while I'm playing the piano, and crowds into Calvin's space whenever he is on the floor researching, coloring, or reading. She likes to eat your ears. She likes to make you retrieve the ball after she chases it. She's exactly what we needed around here, especially on these dreary late winter days.

Plus, because she needs so much exercise, we've been spending way more time outside than we used to at this time of year, which is great for everyone. And because Dalmatians were originally coach dogs (bred to run alongside a coach for long distances), I've started to train her to run with me. So, as much as I hate the cold, I'm actually back outside running a little, which is great because the treadmill just isn't motivating.

still awake

Calvin had to stay up late on Sunday night so he could have a sleep deprivation study done on Monday morning. When I say late I mean that we didn't go to bed—any of us—until almost 1am, and when I say sleep deprivation I mean that we all got up four hours later. We probably should have done it in shifts (Jon and I), but there's something about having company to make those moments less exhausting that kept us both hanging on.

The rough thing about staying up late—really late—with a five year old isn't so much the being tired and the longing for your pillow, it's the having to entertain for five hours more than usual on top of being tired. We stretched the time with books, then Legos, and then popped popcorn and watched The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh. He was pretty bleary eyed when we finally tucked him into bed, and when I woke him up four hours later, he said "oh, is it morning already?" and I knew exactly what he meant.

After getting up at 5am we got home from the test at 9:30 and it felt like lunch time. We ate a second breakfast (how often does that get to happen?), we both practiced the piano, and then we relaxed with books for a while before putting on another Legacy video (this is where Netflix is really quite handy).

Then at lunch time it felt like dinner time. I think we were both beyond naps so we took Iris out for a walk to liven things up a bit. Back at home we changed into warm, comfy clothes, steeped tea, and planted ourselves in the sunshine on the den floor with some history books and art supplies per Calvin's request.  We spent some time with a new book, Archaeology for Kids, but mainly we just drew and colored.

Then at dinner time it felt like bed time, and after a day like that it really was, so we ate, we read, and we fell into bed.

Did I mention that he spent the whole day dressed as Pooh?

This is the reason I have never been sorry that I gave in and bought the Pooh costume way back when.

And this is the reason the window seat is always covered.

And this is the reason I am happy with what I do.

MRI

This morning found us trying something entirely new on the experience front—we were up early, sans breakfast, and traipsing over to Mott Children's Hospital so Calvin could have an MRI. Kids Calvin's age are usually given an MRI under general anesthesia, and it was that and not the procedure itself that had us skipping breakfast and spending umpteen hours at the hospital. The brand new Mott hospital is bright and clean and entertaining—a perpetual marble machine, a toy MRI machine on the anesthesia ward—but with the same great doctors, nurses, and staff they've always had. In fact, our fantastic pediatric anesthesiologist was rather taken with Calvin. She believed that he was mature enough to handle the MRI without the general anesthesia and was willing to give it a go. It worked.

No general anesthesia meant that we walked out of the hospital about ten minutes after the MRI was finished and went straight out for celebration pancakes. And it meant he wasn't groggy and had lots of energy, so we came home and played with dogs, and snow, and Legos, and umbrellas. And it meant that Jon and I were really, really, relieved. Time to breath easy again. And that all adds up to a great, great day.

It's a new dryer invention...he's drying Blanket

Iris (all spots, grace, and energy)

Ollie (cow ears)

Dressing the snowman!

And I call this "quiet moment with journal and dog"

life as we know it

Sometimes life seems so normal, so mundane, that I can't imagine anyone would want to see me write about it. Other times life is going by at such a dizzying pace that I can't find the time to sit down and write at all. The past few days have been a combination of both. And actually, if I'm honest, the real problem has been that I haven't taken any pictures. What? It's true. And a blog post without pictures just seems rather blah. Rather like a list of particulars.

Calvin and I have been scrapbooking a lot together lately—we're putting together a book of our Florida trip and reliving the memories together has been a lot of fun. We've all but closed up our exploration of the Maya and have moved on to the Aztecs. Calvin is plowing through the Math-U-See—he's reached the section on money and we've discussed getting him started with an allowance now that he can keep track of it, so that will be a new milestone to mark. There's been piano, and Lego play, and reading (about Walt Disney), and journaling, and lots and lots of fun with Iris.

Iris is really still our biggest happening. Adding a new dog to a home can be challenging, especially when there are already established pets present, but the transition with Iris has been delightfully smooth. She seems happy and comfortable—she's eating and playing (we might finally have a dog who will pay fetch with us!)—and her manners were already good when she arrived. For those things we need to work on she responds very quickly to praise and the occasional treat. It took only two nights for her to learn our "exile" command (the word we've used for years to banish the dogs from the kitchen when we cook or eat), she sits, she stays, she lays down, and she's getting the hang of leash walking. Still, we'll be enrolling in obedience classes in the next month or so to give her some practice time with Calvin (and Calvin some practice time with her).

We have tickets to see Sweet Honey in the Rock this week, and more books to sort at the library. One odd and rather time-consuming errand. Piano. Legos. We haven't played games in a while, so definitely some of those. We actually have snow on the ground and I'm hoping it will stick around for a while. I'd like a few chilly nights for building fires and snuggling in. This is life as we know it.