A Beach Metaphor

It has been an interesting week. We had to track down the girls’ immunization records for school, which was tedious and annoying and ended up with Glady getting a shot I’m pretty sure she had gotten once before, back in 2001. But because I was trying to get four different records all on one page, something got lost in the shuffle. On the upside, Johann got in for his six-month check-up ( a little late) and he is right smack in the average for height and weight, and he has a big head. I was expecting that. Phil wears a size 7 3/4 hat, and I’m not far behind. Kind of like all our feet being big, too. Glady and Juliet are already in size 1 shoes, and Pippa isn’t far behind.

Other than that, I was sick and blue for most of the week so the house caught up with me – an effect not unlike a giant wave curling around my body and sucking me out to sea. Then after his shots on Thursday, Johann ran a high fever with vomiting in response to them. Poor little guy – I hate it when my babies are sick, they just don’t understand what is going on. I held him in my arms that night while he screamed in anger and stood on my lap literally rigid and all I could think was that he was upset with me because he didn’t feel good. Finally he gave up and fell asleep.

Glady had a friend’s party to go to today. They held it at a place with a climbing wall, but I still don’t know whether she climbed or not – all she wanted to do when she got home was tell me she had been given four tootsie rolls and that she had eaten them all!

Tomorrow I think we are going to have company for the Super Bowl. Our friend Sharon is planning to bring her family up, so there will be the six Spitzes, Dad, Sharon and co. which makes… twelve. EeeK. I’m not sure where everyone will sit! Maybe the four girls can be persuaded to play games in their room. Speaking of which – I think I had better go finish helping them put away their laundry. The rest of the house is doing ok again. I think the tide went down, so I’m going to go rebuild my sandcastle.