Sunday, November 22, 2009

Two virtues, a vice, and a hospital stay.

Subtitled: Ode to Grant*

Our first born has had an eventful week, so I thought I would take the opportunity to share and brag him up a bit.

Last Thursday we went to meet with Grant's teacher for parent teacher conferences at the elementary school. Of course he is doing awesome. The kid has been studious literally since he was born (something I wish I could claim credit for, but he simply came that way.)
She told several funny stories, but the highlight for us was when she said that Grant had told her that he went to the same church as another boy in his class. On a hunch she asked him if he belonged to the Mormon church. Grant said "No," that he belonged to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She has apparently had enough experience with the church to know that they were one and the same, and had a good laugh about it. Then she told us that Grant was a joy to have around, and that he was kind and thoughtful. She also said that her LDS students are always the best students, and that she just has so much respect for our church and it's members.... Way to represent, Grant!

On Friday I got home from the grocery store, and Doug told me that while I was gone, they had all been playing a game, when Grant blurted out his first swear word. That's right folks, my little baby is all grown up. Actually, it probably doesn't quite count, since he had no idea what he was saying, and was pretty upset when Doug told him it was a bad word. I of course had to say something too, and so I told him that it was not just a bad word, but an actual swear word. We are constantly having these differentiating conversations, ie: "Shut-up is not a swear word, but it is not a nice thing to say, and smart children know how to use their words more constructively." Even though I explained this in the nicest way possible, he still had tears in his eyes, as he nodded and pretended to be really interested in his legos. Bless his guilty little heart!

Then last Sunday morning after two nights and a day of him throwing up and having weird abdominal pain, we decided to head to the ER, on a hunch that it might be his appendix. They ran some tests and found that he had a dark spot on his intestines and a white blood cell count of 40,000(which apparently is bad,) so they decided to admit him and run some tests and basically set off an atom bomb of three different antibiotics. Grant was a trooper and seriously did not cry once any of the times that they took his blood, for the three days that we were there. He was really ready to go home though, and has made a point of telling anybody who inquired about his health that the doctors ran lot's and lot's of tests and found out that he has no diseases. And it is true... The best thing that they can figure is that he had some sort of infection in his intestines, and the antibiotics took care of it.

Now for the final little brag...
Yesterday, we asked the kids to write to Santa and tell him what they would like for Christmas and Grant asked for, get this; some clay, some markers, and two mini lego packs (you know, the ones that cost$4.)
The question is, if he is so easily satisfied, then why do we have all that stuff hidden in the basement? Food for thought, right?

PS I know you are dying to know which swear word it is. It starts with a D and ends with an amn. I know... it just barely squeaks into the swear word catergory, but I'm sticking to my guns on this one!!

*The above stories are simply interesting anecdotes that happen to all be about the Author's oldest child , and in no way reflect preference for any of her children. She loves all equally and without bias, and will make a point of posting such one-personed blogs about the other children on a later date, making sure to have equal amounts of stories, and word counts for each of her other children.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Baked Cheese

THAT, my friends is what I ordered last night for dinner at the french restaurant that we went to in Luxembourg. And that is what it was... they have these wooden boxes of cheese that are about the size of my two fists put together, and they cut a slit in the center and pour white wine into it(no worries mom, the alcohol cooks off) and then they bake it. So yup, I ate a box full of melted cheese for dinner. If I had known my whole life that such things existed I would have demanded Baked Cheese wherever I went - ie: "No, no, I don't want the fried cheese sticks, or the cheeseburger, just bring me a big box of melted cheese, please."
It is a good thing that the restaurant is a little over an hour away from our house, or I would have to rapidly get pregnant to justify all the weight gain!
BTW - Doug and I also shared the chocolate fondue for dessert... Oh My Deliciousness!!!!!!!