Happy Holidays...Or Something Like That

This past weekend, Collin and I went to Grandma Great's to delivery a Valentine prize. The entire drive from our house to hers (about 40 minutes) we practiced saying "Happy Valentine's Day Grandma!" By the time we got there, he was getting pretty good at it. Or so I thought...

Until we walked through the front door of Grandma's house. She was so excited to see Collin and believe me, the feeling was mutual. I think it threw him off his game a little. Grandma and I both had to suppress a laugh when Collin jumped up and down and yelled excitedly "Happy Holiday's Grandma!!" Huh? I don't believe we were even saying Happy Holiday's at Christmas time.

If you happen to see Collin around Easter and he tells you "Happy Valentine's Day!", don't be too concerned, we're just catching up... Oh and by the way, this cookie is probably the reason he was literally bouncing off the walls for most of the night and didn't go to sleep until about 2 hours past his bedtime. Thanks for the Valentine fun Aunt Jessie!

Grandma Great

This is Collin's Grandma Great (and Grandpa Great whom we miss terribly).

We love grandma. She's awfully spunky. Last year for Memorial Day, Grandma asked my sister and I to take some beautiful floral sprays to the graves of Grandpa Great, his mother and her parents. Grandma lost half of her foot a few years ago and it's hard for her to get around. We told her we'd be happy to, but I didn't know where Grandpa's mom was buried. She's been gone for a long time now and although I did go to her funeral, I've only been able to find the cemetery again once, and that was completely by accident and I had no idea where inside the cemetery Great Great Grandma was buried. Grandma said "No, problem, I'll draw you a map". Sounds like a great idea right?

Grandma wasn't home at the time we went to pick up the map, so she didn't get to hear Toria and I both laughing hysterically when we picked it up. If you look closely, the map has three little circles that are meant to represent pine trees. It says "pine, pine, pine...Grandma". Told you she was spunky! What we didn't know was that Grandma hadn't been to the cemetery in years either and three pines she thought were the "only" pines on the property, had now been joined by about 250 of their closest tree friends. I could be rounding up, but only slightly. It took just over an hour of walking up and down rows, flower spray and two year old, in arms, to find the right headstone. There may have been a happy dance or two when we finally found it. Now we'll never forget.

What Grandma didn't know was that Toria and I should never be trusted to deliver flowers unsupervised. The sprays were absolutely gorgeous when we picked them up. Then they were released into our care. On a hot Saturday. With a 2 year old in the back seat. And nothing to tie them down with. Oh the horror those flowers were forced to endure... (and me too, since I was the one cleaning it all out of the car for the next 2 weeks).

It might actually be a good thing Grandma couldn't get around well that year. And that she doesn't own a computer, so she can't read this blog...

Laundry Tales

Wanna know what happens when you turn your back on a pile of clean laundry for 2 minutes?
Well, in our house, apparently there is an all consuming need to put on all of the clean socks...
And I do mean ALL of them...

Yeah, I think you're pretty funny too!

A Tale Of Three Meltdowns

And boy were they doozie's! It all started when we found out that the Help Haiti Act the president signed required Collin to have a green card. In order to obtain a green card, we had to fill out a BUNCH of paperwork (with questions like Do you intend to commit espionage while in the United States?) be examined by a civil surgeon (not our regular MD which could have avoided meltdown #2) and of course, the dreaded TB test. So off to the Health Department we went. While Lori and I were busy doing this:

And trying to get SOMEONE at Immigration to decide whether or not the forms had to be filled out with French names or American names, the boys found ways to entertain themselves...

Yes, that's a tongue depressor Collin has in his mouth. I tried not to think about whether or not it was used as I was trying to wrestle it from his grasp.

Apparently, we left them to their own devices a little too long... Finally our name was called and Collin marched bravely back to the exam room for his TB test. The fact that he had no idea what was coming helped a bit. He was a brave little soldier and it only required mommy to hold him down while he got the shot. Unfortunately, Nate was outside the door and could hear the screams. Of course, I'm pretty sure people on the top floor of the building heard the screams too.

When he got done, the nurses gave him a Junior Flu Fighter sticker (which mommy forgot to take off the sweater when I washed it 5 days later... oops) that seemed to help diffuse meltdown #1. By the time Nate was done with his test, Collin's breathing had returned to normal and we were once again in the waiting room, patiently awaiting our turn with the Civil Surgeon.

The doctor came out (sweet, sweet man) and asked Collin if he'd like to go for a walk with him. Collin was excited (I think at the prospect of leaving the waiting room with ANYONE) and said "yeah!". I followed behind congratulating myself on surviving the "hard part". If only I'd known. I'd no sooner turned the corner to see Collin, who had realized the doctor was going into an exam room and SURELY that meant more "pokies", stop short, scream and try to run the other way. Unfortunately, this time, mommy wasn't strong enough to handle meltdown #2, all of our paperwork, our coats and my purse by myself. Meltdown #2 required Aunt Lori, the doctor, mommy and Nate trying, unsuccessfully to calm a completely hysterical Collin. In the end, the poor doctor had to examine him laid across my shoulder and screaming at the top of his lungs. There were no pictures because, well, I was a tad frazzled by the end.

Meltdown #3 occurred after we found out that Collin was 3 short of the required vaccinations for a green card. Emphasis on the word REQUIRED, otherwise, I would have bid them all a good day and run for the hills! Rather than pay the Health Department, that doesn't take my insurance, we opted to get those done by our family MD. Well it seemed like a good idea at the time... My little Collin can now smell a shot at 100 paces. As soon as the nurse called his name through the window, the theatrics started. And boy were they loud. Five minutes later (I know, it was record time) I was cradling a still flailing Collin, who insistently carried on meltdown #3 WITH a sucker in his mouth, and hurrying as fast as I could for daylight; sending heartfelt apologies to the parents of the now traumatized children still waiting in the lobby. Seriously, shouldn't they have a back door for that kind of thing? Afterwards, he offered his second sucker (the nurses felt a little guilty for all the needles and the meltdown; I told you it was LOUD) to Nate for waiting so patiently in the car for him.

In the end, my brave, and now exhausted, little trooper went to Aunt Jessie's for some well deserved cuddling and mommy went to work for some peace and quiet; both heavily dosed with Tylenol. :)

Twenty something pages of paperwork, shots caught up until Kindergarten (in theory) and WAY too much knowledge of the inner workings of the Immigration Department later, the application is in the mail. And now we wait. But at least we're getting good at it...