Saturday, August 27, 2011

Waiting Out the Storm

Hurricane warning? Check!
Tropical storm warning? Check!
Flash flood warning? Check!
Double tornado warnings? Check and check!

I like the thought of staying in a concrete hotel. I don't like the idea of this being a court-side hotel meaning the room to my door leads directly to the outdoors--more specifically the underground pool. Thankfully there is a six-inch step up to my room. That will make a difference, right? RIGHT?

I took a quick trip to the vending machine before it got bad so I could have some stored up sustenance. I'm going to ride this out with Nutterbutters and a bottle of water. I suppose if I get desperate I can pull out the expressed milk in my mini-fridge. Highly caloric that stuff.

Whoops! There goes my television. We'll see how long the internet lasts. I don't know how I'll be able to manage without Anderson Cooper's soothing voice telling me I should panic.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Come on Irene

Despite the fact that six governors have declared states of emergencies, the governor of New Jersey being one of them, I found myself willingly boarding a plane to take me back east. I landed in Philly tonight around 10:30 pm and am now preparing to speak at a conference both Friday and Saturday. I don't think the conference will be disrupted--only my Saturday night plans to go to the shore as well as my Sunday morning plans to fly back home to John and the kiddos. Sniff, sniff.

I suppose if things get really bad I can always flee my hotel room and hunker down in a CRW basement. Those things are solid...though if the winds don't get me the mold and roaches certainly will.

Friday, August 19, 2011

The Truth About Cats and Dogs and CS Lewis


I don't like cats. It could have something to do with the fact that when I was 6-years-old a neighbor's cat jumped on my head in the middle of the night and started clawing my face while I slept.


John doesn't like cats either. Perhaps his dislike is due to the fact that being within ten feet of a feline causes his airways to constrict. Or the fact that when he was 8-years-old a friend's cat had kittens...while he slept...on his pillow. I can't make this stuff up.
John and I do not like cats.

Sam does. A lot. If you have seen Sam, you have seen the ratty cat Beanie Baby he drags around. He named the cat 'Clara' after his little sister which I suppose is sweet but it still makes me shudder. I should clarify Clara the Cat does not always look ratty. We have a back-up cat that is much newer as well as a back-up back-up which is brand-spankin'. I thought I was clever to stock up on cats--I realized my mistake, however, when I tried to sneak Sam a different cat:

Sam: "Why does kitty have a tag on it?"
Me: (Shoot!) "That's strange." (Yank it off)
Sam: "Why does kitty have whiskers?"
Me: (Shoot--original kitty's have been rubbed off) "Well look at that."
Sam: (Long pause) "What did you do to kitty?"

And then there was the time I left back-up kitty on the kitchen table. Sam ran into my room yelling with great excitement, "I've got two kitties! I've got two kitties!" So my great plan to have a back-up back-fired. Now we have TWO cats to look out for. Ugh. 

I don't like cats. But Sam really does. So much so that we recently had this conversation:

Sam: "Mommy, can I have a cat?"
Me: "No, Sammy, Daddy is allergic to cats."
Sam: (Pause) "If we don't have a daddy can we get a cat?"

Sorry, John.

He's finally given up on getting a real cat. Now he wants a newt.

Sam: "Mommy, when can I get a newt?" (Note: he doesn't ask "if", he asks "when".)
Me: "A newt?! Why do you want a newt?"
Sam: "Because you had one when you were little."
Me: (How in the world did he remember that?) "Honey, newts are a lot of work." (Huh? First of all, newts are not that much work. Second, did I really just say that? Isn't that what the parents say on all those television shows?)
Sam: "But I will take care of it!" (There we go again, following the age-old script.)

The funny thing is, if Sam even remotely hinted that he wanted a dog I would be all over it. I love dogs. I'm looking for an excuse to get one. I've even exposed Sam to this book over and over again thinking it would somehow stick in his brain and he would accidentally ask for one. But it hasn't happened yet.

Seriously, Sam, I'm willing to buy you a dog and all you can do is talk about a newt? This is where I insert that C.S. Lewis quote about making mud pies in the slums because we don't know there is something better waiting for us.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

An Update in Text and Pictures

The Drurys are sleeping. All four of us. Thank you, thank you, thank you for your prayers. We have crossed a line where the good nights now outweigh the bad. They are not perfect by any means, but something tells me we are closer to what "normal" 3-year-olds do. I'm still fascinated by how much of this is connected with asthma. If Sam has a night where he's up a lot I can pretty much count on a puff of emergency asthma meds doing the trick. I. Am. So. Grateful. And with rare exception, he's going to bed sweetly without leaving his room which means John and I have our evenings back. Way to go, Sam.

And then there's Clara. Sweet, Clara. Little CJ is 9-months and while she's been smiling like a maniac for months it's only been recently that we started consistently getting those continuous belly laughs.

Last month the very talented Becky Pomp graced us with her mad photography skills.


 All four of the boy cousins looking for fish in Pop's and Grammie's pond.
 This girl never...
stops...

 smiling.

 Taking pictures is exhausting.

 Becky simply let Sam be Sam and caught snaps of him along the way.
 These two adore each other--probably the biggest shock with adding a new little one to the mix.





Tuesday, August 09, 2011

Word of the Day

Sam: "Wanna hear a really funny word?"


Me: "Sure."


Sam: "Willpower."


Me: "Willpower? What does that mean?"


Sam: "Willpower is doing something that you don't really want to do."

Me: "What do you mean?"

Sam: "Like if you want to eat cookie dough but you don't. That's willpower."

Sam learned neither the word nor the example from me. I have no willpower when it comes to the dough.