Calfgrit3 and Calfgrit7 wanted to help me make Cowgrit’s birthday cake, so I let them. They helped pour in the ingredients, mix the batter, and put on the icing. They even placed the candles.

We ended up with four candles because Calfgrit7 wanted to put two on it, and that meant that Calfgrit3 also wanted to put two on it. There’s no relationship between the number four and Cowgrit’s birthday.

I used heart-shaped cake pans, and it all turned out real pretty. Cowgrit was happy, the boys loved it, and I hope the wish she made when she blew out the candles comes true.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

Calfgrit3 started showing the signs of an eye infection Saturday evening: red eye, drainage. Sunday morning, his discomfort showed as irritability. Our pediatrician is open on Sundays, but only in their main office which is a 20-30 minute drive away. And they’ve got only one or two doctors available, so wait time can be another 30 minutes. We decided for me to take him to the local urgent care.

He was really a grumpy bear all morning. Everything set him off into a crying fit. I eventually got him out of the house. When we got to the urgent care, we found it crowded — standing room only. Oh geez. Just what I didn’t need right then with a sick 3-year-old. We’ve all been to this urgent care a few times in the past, and I’ve never had to wait more than about 10 minutes to see a doctor. But then, I’ve never seen it that crowded.

I considered backing out and just going to the pediatrician, but I figured that by the time we got back to the car, drove all the way out there, and waited in that line, we’d probably already be seen here. So I decided to wait with Calfgrit3. It wouldn’t be a fun wait.

But he surprised me. We got lucky and got a seat pretty quick, and he was calm and happy. He sat in my lap, in the chair beside me, and stood next to me pretty well for a long time. We ended up waiting an hour and fifty minutes to see a doctor. For a preschooler to be calm and happy, waiting, for nearly two hours is an astonishing feat even when he feels good. Had I realized it would be a two hour wait, we’d have left early on. Had I known Calgrit3 would be so good for the entire time, I wouldn’t have believed it.

We spent 10 minutes with the doctor, and then left the office. Calfgrit3 then decided he’d been good and calm long enough, and he turned into the grizzly bear again. Nothing could make him happy; he obviously just didn’t feel well. The whole rest of the day he was just irritable and unhappy.

But miracles of miracles, he was happy for two hours straight at a doctor’s office.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

The boys were in bed and Cowgrit and I were snuggled up on the sofa spending some together time watching VH1’s Greatest Songs of the 90s. Cowgrit and I met and dated in the early 90s and spent our DINK* days in the late 90s. So some of the songs highlighted in the show brought nostalgic thoughts to our minds.

Most of the songs and commentary on the songs were “G rated”, but then came mention of Third Eye Blind’s top hit, Semi-Charmed Life. Cowgrit and I both liked the song, as it has a good upbeat tempo and happy feel, although neither of us really knew the lyrics. I thought the song was about having a mundane, mediocre life, and wanting more. Boy, was I wrong.

The commentators on the show said the song was about heavy drug use, wild sex, and “lots of really wrong, wrong things,” to quote one guest. Cowgrit and I were surprised. Another guest said, “it’s about doing crystal meth and having sex.” And that’s when we noticed Calfgrit7 standing at the hallway.

I fumbled around for the TV remote and managed to turn it off before any more enlightening commentary could be spoken. How long had he been standing there? How much had he heard? How much did he understand? Oh boy.

We got him back to bed, and he never said or asked anything about what was on TV. If he grows up to be a druggie, sex-crazed, pervert, we’re going to blame VH1.

* Dual Income, No Kids

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

As we were getting the boys ready for bed, Calfgrit7 said he didn’t feel good. His stomach was upset. So, Cowgrit thought we should put him on our bed (shunting me to the sofa — not a problem). I said that was a wise idea, because we definitely don’t want him getting sick up in the top bunk bed. That would be a Bad Thing.

While Cowgrit got Calfgrit7 settled in our bed, I explained the situation to Calfgrit3, so he would understand why his brother was not going to bed with him.

But when Calfgrit3 heard this, he wanted to sleep in the big bed, too. “I’m sick,” he said.

“No,” I said, “you’re not.”

“I am,” he argued. “I am sick.”

So we had a difficult time putting Calfgrit3 to bed. I offered to lay down with him for a little while, but he wanted mommy. Cowgrit laid down with him in his bottom bunk bed for about 15 minutes.

We’re fearful the night will be a rough one.

* * *

The night went fine. No one was sick. And there was great rejoicing.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com