Friday, October 3, 2008

The things children say.

I had a doctor's appointment last week. Now, unlike normal people, I can no longer go to the doctor by myself. I live and hour and a half from him now. And it is important that Heath is at my appointments, because we never know what may come up. So we get to load the whole herd into the car, and go traipsing into the office with six kids in tow, a diaper bag, toys, books, snacks, drinks, and whatever else they deem unleavable. Of course the first time we went, we sat in the waiting room way past my appointment time, because hey, it's an OB/GYN and he has to deliver babies in the middle of office hours sometimes. Just after I suggested that Heath and the kids go for a ride in the car, here comes my doc. And then I was only there for like ten minutes flat. When you have to travel so far for an appointment, ten minutes is a huge disappointment, and not worth the time. But who am I to be complaining. It does get worse. I just chased a huge rabbit, so let's get back to my appointment last week. Saw my doctor, took all of five minutes, and was sent off to another doctor who is the ultimate ultrasounder, and specialist of weird, never-heard-of pregnancy disorders. Ours would be that I have Big E antibodies. Heath has weird blood. So we are getting to watch this great ultrasound, on a huge flat-screen TV hanging up on the wall. The kids are enthralled. The technician was very thorough, and explained everything to the kids. They thump, thumped with the heart, laughed at the baby cringing, and were amazed they could see the spine. When she was finished and we were waiting for the doctor to come in, Heath mentioned that we needed to think of some names for a boy or a girl. Daniel began to worry a little. He finally confessed, "Well, I know three really good boy names and two good girl names, but I don't want to tell them to you. 'Cause see, I want to save them for when I'm grown up and have my own kids." So I swore to him under penalty of death that I would not use them and he told me his names. If he has boys, he wants to name them Thunder, Laser, and Blaze. The girls will be Abby and Lucy. His poor wife. What will she have to fight? And then, he suddenly had a great idea for us. "I know! You could name the baby John if it's a boy!" Apparently he used all his creativity for his unborn, future children.

Two nights ago, Terry kept getting up out of bed. He just would not go to sleep in his bed. This has been somewhat a reoccurring fight. It seems more nights than not, we have to pick him up, sound asleep, out of the hallway floor and put him to bed. Well, I decided I wasn't going to fight. He was going to obey. He snuck down the hallway, and was laying in the floor, when I told him to go to bed. He promptly replied "NO!" I was dumbfounded. This was his first "no" to me. I quickly (as quickly as a rotund pregnant woman can move) stood up, and before I could do anything else, he shot up out of the floor, yelled "OH NO!" and ran off to bed. I had to sit back down to finish laughing for fear of wetting myself, then went down the hall to swat him for telling his mother no.

And just one more because it's the absolute funniest. Early this summer, my parents bought us a subscription to National Geographic magazine. I love these! And we figured that the kids would have a great time looking at the pictures and we could use them in school as well. So we were telling Malcolm about getting the magazine, (which by the way, he loves to read) and showed him the first one we had received. We reminded him that they were like the ones his Gram and Pop have at their house. "Oh yeah. I remember those. But these will be even better. Gram and Pop's are from the 1900s, so it will be good to read more current magazines!) Was he kidding me? Those issues were from the '80s and '90s! They're younger than I am! And yet, he was correct. They are from the 1900s. Wonder what his opinion is about his parents, and what century from which they come?