Category Archives: billy

05.10.07
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Time for chores

My day began with Billy throwing up. And doing so rather untidily. He’s rarely sick, so I’m trying not to alarm myself with irrational fears that he caught some incurable and deadly disease at the pediatrician’s office yesterday when he crab-walked on the floor. I’m usually pretty calm about dirt and germs, but the two places where I pretty much freak-out (as much as I am capable of freaking out) about my kids touching things, especially the floor, are doctors’ offices and public restrooms.

I think the pregnancy hormones are making me a bit more panicky than normal.

Thankfully, there is absolutely nothing on my calender for today. Just school.

And my ever-growing to-do list. So, I’ll push-up my sleeves, get out the rug shampooer, and start tackling those chores before the sun’s beckoning rays drag us outside. And today, Petey will get his nap, yes, indeed.

04.26.07
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On the radio

Would You Go With Me by Josh Turner

He’s cute, has a great voice, and sings such romantic lyrics:

Would you go with me if we rolled down streets of fire
Would you hold on to me tighter as the summer sun got higher
If we roll from town to town and never shut it down

Would you go with me if we were lost in fields of clover
Would we walk even closer until the trip was over
And would it be okay if I didn’t know the way

If I gave you my hand would you take it
And make me the happiest man in the world
If I told you my heart couldn’t beat one more minute without you, girl
Would you accompany me to the edge of the sea
Let me know if you’re really a dream
I love you so, so would you go with me

Billy: What’s he singing about, Mom?

Me: He’s singing to the woman he loves, asking her if she’ll go with him, even if he doesn’t know where he is, even if he’s lost and doesn’t know the way.

Billy: He needs to buy a GPS.

Was that the sound of romance dying…or is it just my cell phone ringing?

03.09.07
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Feast of Saint Dominic Savio

Saint Dominic Savio is the patron of boys, children’s choirs and juvenile delinquents to name a few. A good patron for Billy?

The very first thing this son of mine said to me this morning was, “Happy Feast of St. Dominic, Mom!” He has recently realized that every saint has a feast day, and our Picture Book of Saints lists that day under their pictures. He obsessively flips through this book reminding me of upcoming feasts. I think he’s afraid that we might forget to honor someone. Wait until he learns that this book doesn’t list every single saint, and that hardly a day goes by without a saint’s association to it!

02.25.07
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The age of reason

Happy 7th Birthday, Billy.

My miracle baby. Born with a knot in the umbilical cord. Reluctant to breathe. The first 30 seconds of your life were the scariest in my life; the next 30 seconds were the the most joyous as I heard you cry. I’ve been threatening your life ever since. You are my biggest challenge, but you are worth every minute, and I love you so.

May the Lord bless you and keep you; may you grow up to be the man He wants you to be; and may He send His angels to protect you day and night, since you need all the help you can get, and the Lord knows I am insufficient for the task.

02.12.07
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Jesus, a fan of poultry

Today, Billy’s phonics lesson was “CH.”

He had a word list, which he breezed through with ease (oh, I love teaching this kid to read).

He had riddles: A fruit used in pies? Cherry! A place where we worship God? Church! Jesus said, “Let the little (blank) come to me”? ??

He was a bit stumped. I pointed to his word list to offer some assistance. He thought I pointed to one word, when I pointed to another. “Chicken?”

“Let the little chickens come to me? Billy, does that make sense?”

“OH! CHILDREN!!!”

They’ve been clucking around here ever since. Yes, I suppose the Lord loved the little chickens, too.

01.25.07
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Banana who?

If you think the knock-knock joke with the punchline “Orange you glad I didn’t say banana again?” is bad enough, how about listening to two boys debate back and forth how many times you should say “banana” before you say “orange”?

Fritz: You should say it twice. Listen: Knockknockwhostherebananabananawho Knockknockwhostherebananabananawho Knockknockwhosthereorangeorangewho orangeyougladIdidntsaybananaagain?

Billy: No, no. It’s better if you say banana three times. Like this: Knockknockwhostherebananabananawho Knockknockwhostherebananabananawho Knockknockwhostherebananabananawho Knockknockwhosthereorangeorangewho orangeyougladIdidntsaybananaagain?

And so on. If I hadn’t already lost my mind years ago, surely, surely this would send me over the edge!

12.01.06
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Decorating for the holidays

Even though my husband is military, he works in an ordinary office building in an ordinary, mixed-zoning neighborhood. You might think his office was just any other civilian office building.

Except that the entrance is gated. And the guards are armed. And you have to show – not one, but – two forms of ID to get in, one of which they confiscate until you leave. And they inspect your bags to make sure you don’t have bombs hidden between the diapers and the wipes. And the majority of workers bees running around are dressed in camouflage.

Except for those minor details, it’s just an ordinary office building.

And like lots of ordinary office buildings, they are decorating for the holidays. There is a decorating contest for the different sections or departments. Last year, my husband’s office (the one he is in right now, not the one he was in last year) nearly won. They are determined to take the blue ribbon this time.

The theme is something about supporting the soldier and his/her family no matter where in the world they are (I’m sure someone came up with much nicer phraseology than that, but I don’t know what it is). The entrance to my husband’s section is pretty big, so they have lots of physical room in which to work. They’ve decided on one side of their big foyer to have a living room scene with a Christmas tree, cookies for Santa, stockings hung with care. Only it’s obvious that Dad is deployed. Maybe the letters to Santa ask him to bring dad home safely. Maybe there is an overseas package with wrapped gifts for the kids and notes from Dad saying he wishes he were there. There’s a photo of dad in uniform.

Are you crying yet? No? You’ve never had your husband deployed, have you?

Well, it gets worse. On the other side of the room, will be a scene depicting the soldier’s Christmas away from home. Ruck sack, boots, mini-tree, mini-nativity set, care package from home.

I have to go to his office in a few weeks for the Holiday party. I really don’t think I’ll look at the decorations.

I offered to have the kids draw pictures for “Daddy” away from home for Christmas. Blogger won’t let me upload their drawings right now, but they each took to the task with gusto.

But Billy, my sweet Billy…when given the assignment, he excitedly described his plans for what to draw. “I’m going to show Dad in battle with all the bad guys dead!!!”

“NO! No blood and guts in the Christmas picture! No, no, no!”

He paused while he thought about that.

“But Mom…red is a Christmas color, right?”

Oh. My.

He drew a house with Santa landing on the roof. And seven presents under the tree, plus an 8th wrapped dog bone.

Maybe later I’ll post the pictures.