Archive for the ‘enzo’ Category

enzo’s story

Wednesday, February 4th, 2009

Enzo dictated a story to me this morning where he had a magic drill that would turn you into a skeleton (I had a choice between zombie, skeleton, and ghost, and I chose skeleton).

I was washing dishes, and told him I had to finish them.

“OK, so when you’re done with that dish, then turn to me like this,” and he turns quickly and freezes, “and I’ll turn you into a skeleton.  But you’ll still have a face.”

So I did.  And he put his magic drill, made from a paper towel tube that’d been unpeeled along the seam, against my breast and wound it very solemnly and made a sound at the end like “pshow”.

“There, you’re a skeleton,” he said.

“Aaah! My hands are bone hands!  My head is all smooth!” I said.

“No, you still have a face, remember?”

“Oh, does that mean I still have hair?”

“Yes, and you still have lips and stuff.”

“This is the whole Goblinsmerg family, we’re all skeletons, for the next 80 eons.  I was turned into one too, by my great grandfather Goblinsmerg.  When you are done being a skeleton, I can give you organ lessons.”

winter sickness

Sunday, March 2nd, 2008

It’s been one of the worst winters I can recall for sickness. I don’t think our family’s been this sick, this regularly, since Enzo was a baby and started going to daycare.  Not-so-coincidentally, Sal has started going to daycare at the YMCA for an hour three days a week. That’s not so much, but how long does it take to pick up a virus?  I tell myself that it’s part of young childhood, that it will help his little immune system grow stronger, and that it always seems worse than it is, because when he cries it’s so pitiful.

But man, when he wakes up, like he did a week ago, wheezing, and barking like a seal when he coughs, it’s scary! I’ve done this before, with both kids, but there’s nothing quite like the feeling of helplessness a sick child can give you. We put him in the shower, and then took him outside, and he started sounding better, and he fell asleep.  We took him to the doctor a few days later and he was diagnosed with pneumonia.  He’s been on antibiotics and sounds much better now, but it’s just the latest in a long series of illnesses this winter.

Kacey got pneumonia herself in the fall.  She had a nasty cough that started in November, and then by the first week of December she had been diagnosed and was laid up for most of a week, spending most of every day in bed.  It’s probably the sickest she’s been since I’ve known her.  She went on antibiotics too, and it cleared up, but minor colds have come back a couple of times in the last month.

I myself have been sick on three or four occasions this winter where I’ve had to miss work, and that never happens.  Most of them have been the kind where I was just too tired to move around much, and where my head would pound if I over-exerted myself.  I have done well for the latter half of the winter, but like I said, minor colds have hit me way more often than they ever used to.

Even Enzo, who is normally the healthiest of all of us, has missed enough school due to being sick that we’ve gotten the first letter from the school district warning us that attendance is very important…

Reason enough to be excited for spring to come!

happy birthday, enzo

Thursday, October 6th, 2005

Dear Enzo:

Happy Birthday, my son. I feel like we’re getting to the point now where you progress and grow faster than I can record my incredulity. You are SO BIG now. You can do many things by yourself, but you’re still not sure if you want to give up the cozy feeling of having mommy and me do it for you. And that’s fine. Soon enough, I’m sure, you won’t let me do anything, so I’m glad that you still want me to help you get dressed, even though if you felt like it you could pick out all your clothes and put them on all by yourself. When you want to do that I am be appropriately enthusiastic and proud. But when you ask for help, I’ll confess I’m secretly pleased.

I have to admit that sometimes you try my patience. Most of the time that’s not because you are really doing anything out of the ordinary for a young child learning proper boundaries. In fact, it’s mostly because I see myself reflected in you, and not everything about me is perfect. That’s very frustrating, but by being so innocently reflective like that, you help me be a better person. I want to set as good an example as possible, so I strive to overcome my shortcomings. You make me appreciate your mother more and more, too. I see you reflect her, and I realize that I’m glad that she and I are different enough that hopefully between the two of us we can give you lots of complimentary personality traits.

And what a personality you have! You’re very charming. You’re reserved enough around strangers to be intriguing, but friendly enough to not turn people off. And you’re so cute that many are instantly captured by your look alone. You play for longer and longer periods, and sometimes you get so absorbed in things I’m surprised at your focus. You love to whisper stories to yourself (entire books, with total recall), or songs that you just learned. I heard you singing along softly to one of your favorite CDs in the car recently, and I wonder if you realize that I do that too.

Your eyes are big and brown (where did that come from anyway? Mimi’s got a wicked strong recessive gene, it appears), and your hair is always tousled and cutely messy.

In short, it has been an absolute pleasure watching you grow these four years, and I am prouder than you will ever know to have you as my son.

Happy Birthday, special boy.

enzo has a good memory

Thursday, September 29th, 2005

The other night Enzo and I were doing our nightly reading, and he said, “I’m going to read you a book.” So he pulled out Stella, Queen of the Snow, a library book we have gotten a few times, and proceeded to recite every page, from memory, almost exactly as written. And we don’t even own that book. If I read to him from one of his regular books and I say something wrong, he will correct me. He’s got them all in his head.

old mother west wind

Thursday, July 7th, 2005

One of my favorite things about being a parent is sharing with my children things that I enjoyed as a child, and a recent example of this is the books of Thornton W. Burgess. Burgess was a naturalist around the turn of the century who wrote a series of children’s books about the animals of the forest and their adventures. They’re simple books, but they’re filled with just the right amount of adventure and fun to be engrossing to a young mind.

Our normal bedtime routine is for him to pick a couple of books to read before going to sleep, and for the past several months, night after night, he’s picked the stories about the Bear twins Boxer and Woof-Wooof, Peter Rabbit, Grandfather Frog, Jimmy Skunk, and Reddy Fox. We have a set that my mother gave us, and he knows them all by heart, so much so that he asks for them according to specific stories: “I want to hear the one where the Bears climb a tree, daddy.”

At first I was surprised that he would sit so rapturously for them, but as always, he surprised me with the power of his imagination, and now when I read them to him I can see the pictures on the insides of his eyeballs. When Peter Rabbit falls down the slide that Little Joe Otter built and plops into the Smiling Pool, he laughs and laughs every time at the scene.

It makes bedtime my favorite part of the day. I can’t think of anything more comfortable and loving than reading to Enzo to help him have dreams of sunshine through trees and the sound of water.

enzo is three

Wednesday, October 6th, 2004

i can’t believe my little boy is 3 today…

so many things are different in my life now that he’s here that my pre-child life seems almost like a dream, or a story about someone else. what did kc and i do with ourselves? how boring life was!

maybe that’s the difference between having a kid at 28 vs having one much earlier. i’m sure that childless people have plenty of interesting activities but the stuff that i used to do seems so shallow compared to the day-to-day struggles and joys of parenting.

he had a good day. sadly it was a weekday, so he spent most of it at preschool.

in the morning there was a front-end loader waiting for him, a gift from his mama boone. it was kinda hard to pull him away from it to leave the house, and he was sad to leave it, but that’s the way it goes, i guess. when we arrived at preschool the glue was drying on a really cool birthday crown, which he was still wearing when we came in the afternoon to get him.

then we came home and opened some presents, and there was so much cool stuff to be done he didn’t even know what to do. we ordered his favorite pizza, ate, and then it was time for the bed routine.

after he was down kc and i couldn’t help but wish we’d been able to spend more time with him on his special day, but he had fun, and he’s going to have a party on saturday, so it is ok.

happy birthday special boy!

enzo can spell

Friday, July 23rd, 2004

he can pick out the letters of his name, and he can also get J and F. he put the letters of his name in the right order (though the E was backward). then he picked out the letters of my name, and i showed him how we could make a crossword so we could share the N, and he laughed and clapped.

enzo’s sick

Wednesday, February 5th, 2003

he puked at daycare yesterday all over one of the workers there, and then again when i was picking him up 20 minutes later. we brought him home and he looked kinda pale and was really fussy and whiny, and he puked a few more times. it had a weird cycle though: he’d barf, and then be really quiet in someone’s arms for a while, then he’d want to get down and just walk around a little bit, and then after that he’d start playing and laughing and be totally normal. then he’d get fussy and whiny, and we knew he’d puke in another 10 or 15 minutes.

the pediatrician’s office told us to get canned peaches or pears with syrup, and to give him a teaspoon of the syrup 15 minutes apart for two doses. if he kept that down, then he could have sips of water for 4 hours. if that worked, then 8 hours of all the fluids he wanted. and if that went well then i think he is considered cured. if he pukes after any one of the steps, you go back a step.

the syrup thing sounded kinda weird, but i guess it’s just a way to make sure they get some sugars in them before they puke again, because sugar is easily digested, i think.

anyway, he went to bed around 730 last night, really super tired, after having some sips of water. he hadn’t puked for an hour and a half or so, and he slept through the night. he woke up kinda dazed (tired, i think, from the night before), and today he’s been pretty fine, though he keeps lying down on the floor and rubbing his eyes like he’s tired. but it’s only 830 now. maybe we’ll take a late morning nap.


Friday, January 31st, 2003

enzo (my beautiful 1 year old son, for those who may not know) cut his head open today.

i wasn’t here when it happened, but i got a sudden phone call from a screaming and crying woman i finally realized was kacey, telling me that he’d fallen out of his high chair and had a cut on his head. enzo was wailing as loud as he could, and in response to her frantic “what do i do?!?!” all i could do was ask stupid questions like “where is he bleeding?” and “does it look bad?”

she had the sense to hang up with me then and call the doctor, and we hung up. then i was left to the unique feeling of dull helplessness that every parent of a hurt child feels. what could i do? i just sat at my desk and rubbed my head, trying to distract my noggin from terrible images of my bloody son. a half hour or so went by and i called and got her on her cell phone. she was waiting for the doctor to come in and had no diagnosis yet, but at least she said that he was acting more normal and playing and stuff.

after that i waited another half hour or so and tried to focus on code, but getting my events wired up to my dropdown lists properly just didn’t really seem that important right then. when i talked to her again i found out that he wasn’t going to need stitches, and that he had no other signs of head trauma.


after seeing it i’m surprised he’s not getting stitches. it looks like a little pencil-eraser size dent in his head. because head wounds bleed so much it’s hard to tell just how big the actual cut is because there’s still a lot of clotting going on. he’s definitely set a new injury personal best.

poor little guy. he’s always a trooper with pain though. he always laughs right through it. i hope he can keep that attitude!