Growing pains...

Came home from work yesterday, and found Gareth in tears, sitting on our bed - John had just gotten him a bag of ice to put on his knee because he'd banged it hard twice in a row, and he was pretty sure it would have a bad bruise. Put his knee brace on it as well for good measure. Gareth wanted me to sit with him for awhile, and get him a snack, so I got him a little bowl of ice cream - before dinner, but I think a treat is in order if you've hurt yourself, and I sat with him for awhile until he calmed down. John's friend Alex had brought his son Sterling over for a play date, and whenever those two get together, they go a mile a minute and Gareth is usually sweaty by the time they leave, so no wonder knees are getting banged. I gave him a hug and told him I used to do the same thing a lot, and sometimes still do. I regularly misjudge the distance between my shoulder and the wall in a hallway, and bounce off like a ping-pong ball, to the amusement of friends and co-workers. Poor guy, maybe he's having a growth spurt that's making him a little klutzy - he does seem to be banging into things fairly often lately.

Blah, what to write about? Avalon went to the limo/tea garden birthday party a couple of weeks ago, the one that had our jaws hanging when we received the invite. It turned out the family actually owns the limo company that picked up all the little girls (there were about eleven), and took them to the tea place. I got her all fixed up, clean hair, trimmed nails, hair in a ponytail, birthday card all signed and ready with one of my business cards (extra cell numbers written on the back) in case they needed to contact us. Gareth volunteered to hold it while I was busy doing something else, and wound up getting the envelope wet and losing my business card; however, the birthday girl's mom pointed out the number on the side of the limo - pretty easy to remember, all one digit except for a 0 at the end - in case we needed to contact them. Geez, I think the limo itself was longer than our lot - a stretch Expedition with seven extra windows between the normal front and back windows - how much gas do you think that thing guzzles?

John spent the afternoon in garage, ostensibly woodworking but more likely biting his fingernails off up to the elbow; this was the first time we'd let our little girl off with someone besides family, and he's famously overprotective. He told me he'd felt the same when he'd let Gareth go to his friend Connor's for the first time. But not to worry, they delivered her home (in the family car, not the limo, but still a Mercedes S600); after the tea house, they'd taken everyone home to play in the backyard for awhile. I asked if she behaved, and the mom told me that Avalon was about the only kid who just went with the flow, and never started whining or complaining about anything. Heh, if nothing else, I guess we've trained our kids how to behave in public. She said she'd like to have Avalon over again for a play date - however, she'll probably see John more often than me, since he picks everyone up at school.

You know, I've really got to get over being so intimidated by people who make more money than I do. So what if they make twice what I do in a year (and that's only one of them). I knew I was never going to be rich when I decided to do what I do and especially when John decided to be a stay-at-home dad; just because they have more expensive homes, car, and things does not make them any more content, or happy, or better than me. Conversely, it doesn't make them evil, either - but it would be nice if they could restrain themselves with the building.

Growing pains...

Came home from work yesterday, and found Gareth in tears, sitting on our bed - John had just gotten him a bag of ice to put on his knee because he'd banged it hard twice in a row, and he was pretty sure it would have a bad bruise. Put his knee brace on it as well for good measure. Gareth wanted me to sit with him for awhile, and get him a snack, so I got him a little bowl of ice cream - before dinner, but I think a treat is in order if you've hurt yourself, and I sat with him for awhile until he calmed down. John's friend Alex had brought his son Sterling over for a play date, and whenever those two get together, they go a mile a minute and Gareth is usually sweaty by the time they leave, so no wonder knees are getting banged. I gave him a hug and told him I used to do the same thing a lot, and sometimes still do. I regularly misjudge the distance between my shoulder and the wall in a hallway, and bounce off like a ping-pong ball, to the amusement of friends and co-workers. Poor guy, maybe he's having a growth spurt that's making him a little klutzy - he does seem to be banging into things fairly often lately.

Blah, what to write about? Avalon went to the limo/tea garden birthday party a couple of weeks ago, the one that had our jaws hanging when we received the invite. It turned out the family actually owns the limo company that picked up all the little girls (there were about eleven), and took them to the tea place. I got her all fixed up, clean hair, trimmed nails, hair in a ponytail, birthday card all signed and ready with one of my business cards (extra cell numbers written on the back) in case they needed to contact us. Gareth volunteered to hold it while I was busy doing something else, and wound up getting the envelope wet and losing my business card; however, the birthday girl's mom pointed out the number on the side of the limo - pretty easy to remember, all one digit except for a 0 at the end - in case we needed to contact them. Geez, I think the limo itself was longer than our lot - a stretch Expedition with seven extra windows between the normal front and back windows - how much gas do you think that thing guzzles?

John spent the afternoon in garage, ostensibly woodworking but more likely biting his fingernails off up to the elbow; this was the first time we'd let our little girl off with someone besides family, and he's famously overprotective. He told me he'd felt the same when he'd let Gareth go to his friend Connor's for the first time. But not to worry, they delivered her home (in the family car, not the limo, but still a Mercedes S600); after the tea house, they'd taken everyone home to play in the backyard for awhile. I asked if she behaved, and the mom told me that Avalon was about the only kid who just went with the flow, and never started whining or complaining about anything. Heh, if nothing else, I guess we've trained our kids how to behave in public. She said she'd like to have Avalon over again for a play date - however, she'll probably see John more often than me, since he picks everyone up at school.

You know, I've really got to get over being so intimidated by people who make more money than I do. So what if they make twice what I do in a year (and that's only one of them). I knew I was never going to be rich when I decided to do what I do and especially when John decided to be a stay-at-home dad; just because they have more expensive homes, car, and things does not make them any more content, or happy, or better than me. Conversely, it doesn't make them evil, either - but it would be nice if they could restrain themselves with the building.