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February 2, 2004
February 2, 2004:
Pink Eye…
On Friday, there was a notice posted on Mitch’s classroom door warning parents that one of the kids in Mitch’s room had pink eye. It provided details on symptoms, treatment, and the mandatory 48-hour waiting period before returning to class. My eyes felt itchy after reading the notice. I put the kids in the car and gave them each a snack before we pulled out of the parking lot. The whites of Mitch’s eyes looked a bit red and Rachel had been rubbing her eyes on and off. I thought it was just one of the symptoms of her cold. After dinner and baths, I dug through the medicine cabinet for a tube of ointment to treat conjunctivitis. I double-checked the expiration date before breaking open the seal. I put it in Mitch’s eyes just before bedtime so he wouldn’t have to suffer with blurred vision. It’s the equivalent of smearing a blob of Vaseline in your eye. Rachel didn’t like it one bit, but she had to have it before falling asleep. I checked their eyes in the morning, and there was some improvement.
Mitch…
I don’t get much one-on-one time with Mitch, because I usually have both kids with me or I will just take Rachel with me while Mitch is taking a nap. I’d like to change that and spend more chunks of time with Mitch, just the two of us. On Saturday, over Rachel’s protests, Mitch and I went shopping for groceries, just the two of us. He enjoys going to the store and likes to point out things that he notices or recognizes like his favorite cereal or the bananas. The only problem in shopping with Mitch is that when he’s hungry (when is he not hungry?) he wants to open every single thing I put in the cart. It’s hard to keep a safe distance between him and the food, given that he sits in the basket and the food is within reaching distance. He enjoyed looking at the fresh fish, “just in from Norway, and you know HEB doesn’t have this kind of fish!” according to the fish man behind the counter. We waited our turn and purchased fresh salmon. The lines were really long, it’s getting more and tempting to use the self-checkout register. I tried it last week, but it only confirmed that I could never hold a job as a checkout clerk, it took forever to scan my 45 items. Did you know, I’m not good at weighing produce? I get easily frustrated when the machine talks back to me, “put your item in the bag!” “But, I did put the item in my bag. Open your eyes Sherlock!” Really, who wants to stand there and argue with a machine? I promised Mitch a sucker, but all they had at the front was a pacifier sucker, so that’s what we bought. I bought one for Rachel, too, tucking it in my purse for later. We stopped at the liquor store on the way home to pick up the high dollar wine that Jerry got me hooked on over Christmas. I say that facetiously, of course, as Jerry and I wouldn’t know the difference between a cheap bottle of house wine and one of France’s finest $650 bottles. I love the Moscato de Asti, and it’s the first time I’ve actually considered buying a case of wine. I enjoy a glass of wine a few nights a week, now, and we’ve used it to marinade fish the last few weekends.
Rachel…
When we got home, Mitch was ready for his nap. I felt like a tag-team parent as I handed him over to Jerry who changed him and put him to bed. I unloaded the groceries and then went out to the garage to get out my boots, saddle & tack. I nearly died when I saw the mildew growing on the sides of my boots. I was afraid to uncover my saddle, but when I did it wasn’t as bad as I thought. Still, there was a serious case of musty funk going on in there. We propped open the lid and let the box air out, while I dragged all the leather tack into the house. I got out the Murphy’s oil soap and went to town on the boots, saddle, bridle, stirrup leathers, reins, martingale, and lunge line. Then Rachel and I got our boots on and drove to the stables. We walked through the large red barn, stopping to pet some of the horses. We watched lessons underway in the arena and then Patti came out to introduce herself and show us around. We walked past a small paddock of three black goats. Then we slowly made our way up and down 4 aisles of her barn meeting all the horses by name. Rachel kept asking which horse was going to be hers. We visited with Patti and the horses for 30 minutes or so. I signed a release and contract to start riding on Tuesdays. As Patti headed back to the arena to teach another lesson, Rachel and I fed carrots to the horses and goats. As we stood there in the fresh wind, I felt like I had come home. I had not realized what a big part of “me” was still there with those horses. There is nothing like the feel, the touch, the smell of a horse. Getting back in the saddle will do me a world of good.
Talk to the Hoof…
I pulled a sucker out of my purse for Rachel to enjoy on the ride home. We decided to make a mad dash for Charlotte’s Saddlery which was due to close in 30 minutes. Ten minutes into the drive, Rachel announced that she had to pee. But, she didn’t want to stop, she promised to hold it until we got to Charlotte’s. And she did. I bought some filler pads for my stirrups and some riding socks. I wanted to try on riding boots, but I wasn’t wearing breeches. They sent me into the dressing room to put on breeches and then measured my legs. They were getting ready to close and I noticed the big iron gate being pulled across the front of the store. I hate feeling rushed and offered to come back another day, but they wanted me to try on boots. But, after trying on several pair, we found they didn’t have a pair in stock in my size. I was just a little disappointed. We drove out on the Katy Freeway, and as I exited, I realized that there was another tack store nearby. We did a U-turn and ended up at the right place. We found a perfect pair of boots, some suede half chaps (which I’ve never had but always wanted to try) which are pretty standard riding barn apparel, riding gloves, horse treats, tack cleaner and conditioner, and something to treat mildew and mold in leather. My favorite thing was a red ball cap with the picture of a horse standing there holding up one hoof, “talk to the hoof,” it says. Even Jerry had to laugh at that when he saw it. Jerry grilled the salmon for us that night. Once the kids were in bed, I spent several hours trying to re-clean and condition my tack.
Super Bowl Sunday…
You may have heard that the Super Bowl was hosted at Reliant Stadium this year. It’s a state-of-the-art facility which I can see right outside my office window. I’m on the 33rd floor, and my windows overlook the medical center and Reliant Arena. All week, I watched as the media circus arrived to set up camp. There were tons of buses, satellite dishes, and tents. There were reporters on every station reporting the various celebrity sightings, the traffic conditions, where to eat, where to shop, where to park, where to buy tickets, where not to buy fake tickets, and so on. Even though the game is long over, I can still see the orange and blue banner across the front of the stadium. We were invited to Reid & Tina’s party which is a 45-minute drive from our house. Jerry and Rachel went to the party @ 2:30, while Mitch & I stayed at home. We watched the game, ate dinner, and played together before it was time for Mitch to go to bed. I didn’t mind staying home with Mitch because he’s just too young (this year) and I would have ended up chasing him around and not enjoyed the game at all. Jerry said Rachel had a blast playing with all the kids in Cole’s room and outside in the back yard. They didn’t get home until after 11 p.m. and she was totally worn out and exhausted. Still, she begged and pleaded to watch a short video promising in her sing-songy voice, “please, I’ll be your best friend,” which lately has become her favorite expression. Well, I don’t need a new best friend, but it is sometimes so hard to keep a straight face when she says that.
Warmly,
Megan
Check out my new blog:
http://bennigan.typepad.com/
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