Dipiction of a Sick Kid

Poor Henry.  So far, August is merely a string of high to low grade fever mixed with viral and bacterial bleck.  Thankfully, last night's blood work tested negative for atypical pneumonia, and I am grateful that he (despite the depiction) is keeping his usual good humored outlook on daily living.  After all, he did start this morning off with chocolate chip pancakes from Daddy and was treated to a large dose of television and gummies today.

Drive Game

 I'm not very good at paying attention to baseball games.  Tonight was no exception, but I think Henry did manage to catch a few minutes of the Drive game tonight.

Here were my main distractions--my coworker's cute babies!

Unlike the dog that Henry devoured at Thursday night's block party, Henry wasn't wild about his stadium hot dog.  He was glad that I packed snacks.

And he was so relieved to finally ride the trolley to the game. 

Block Party

Henry was my date to Homes of Hope's Kingsview Pointe Black Party on Thursday night where music,  dancing, food, hoola hopping, jump roping, frisbee throwing, and mingling were all part of my job for the evening.  It's really not a bad gig.

Here's a picture of Henry eating what I think is his first actual hot dog -- not just a frank dipped into mustard. 

He also got three tattoos... but came home with none. 

Tattoo #1: Spiraling Football 

 He quickly scratched it off then went back for two more:

Those two (a worm and a frog) were also quickly scratched off.  I had to draw the line for fear of ink poisoning.  Then, after he watched the hoola hoop contest, he thought he would concentrate on learning the craft:

And, all along, Henry helped break in the new neighborhood's curbs.

There were a few grandmothers around who eventually grounded his jumping for fear that he would bust a lip.  It made me giggle--the perfection of grandmothers sitting in chairs on their front porches, watching and scolding  children as they play.  It's a vision come true for this small corner of West Greenville. 

Zing!

Yesterday, amid downtown's already painfully slow road construction, a water main burst, resulting in yet another road block on one of the multiple route choices to get to the yW.  While we were waiting in a stand-still left hand turn lane, Henry saw a motorcycle on the road and said, “Look!  A bicycle on the road!”  And I said, “That’s actually a motorcycle.”  So he said, “No!  I think it’s a bicycle!”  For some reason, I couldn’t let it drop, so I said, “It really is a motorcycle.”  There was a long pause and then Henry said, “You’re being mean.”  I disagreed, and we were both quiet for a while longer while we sat in line to turn onto Park Avenue.  Then he said, “Look!  I see smoke!  I see smoke, and I see you being mean!”

Nice segue, smarty pants.  (And I never caught site of any smoke, either.)

Looping Day

It hit me just last week that Henry and his class are looping into preschool this year... not just into another classroom but into a higher ratio and with that title--PRESCHOOL!

Of course, we were ready.  Henry, recovering from a recent bout of Roseola and struggling with the consequential sinus infection, slept from 4:00 PM on Sunday to 8:00 AM this morning.  We visited Dr. Song at 11:20 for the no-brainer sinus infection diagnosis and meds before finally heading to the yW.  He placated me with a few photos outside. 

Henry's mood was amazing after sixteen hours of rest --joke slinging and dancing abounded, which made my heart a bit lighter when I left him at nap time.  I wasn't surprised that he didn't want to leave when I got there, and I was prepared with my camera.

New toys!

Familiar reading couch... ha!

More space... ha!

Same friends...

Henry just had to go with his class to the gym, too, and I figured, "Why not?"  He already missed half the day, anyway.

We're thankful that we have Henry somewhere that values connections and bonding and that Henry still has Mrs. Hannah for his main teacher.  But, still, preschool?  I think I'm going to think of it as pre-preschool.

Snuggle Chat

Tonight, at the designated snuggle time, Henry said, "Now we can talk."  So I, underestimating my son's will, set up the conversation.

Me: "Did you have a good day at school today?
Henry:  "Ummm... let's just talk about flowers 'stead of school.  OK?"
Me: "OK.  What kind of flowers do you like?"
Henry: "Turquoise, yellow, red, and black!  Do you like black flowers?"

Oh, dear... first he won't talk about his day at school then lays it out that he likes black flowers?  Is he an awkward teenager already?

Drank the Kool Aid

Well, he did it.  Henry drank the Kool Aid.

Our next door neighbor, Anna, and her friend set up a Kool Aid stand this afternoon, and when Henry and I pulled into the driveway, he said, "Now let's go see what Anna's doing!"  Turns out, she was embracing our street's spirit of entrepreneurship (referring to Daddy's home office, of course) and was selling cold Kool Aid for fifty cents a cup--free refills.

Henry went back for more:

The girls were delighted.  Anna loves Henry, but, mainly, we were their only customers as of dinnertime.  

Henry loved it!

There was still a faint red stain when he went to bed tonight.  Kool Aid really leaves a mark. 

Apologies for the "drank the Kool Aid" reference... or am I the only one who cringes just a tad when it's used?