As the hurl turns

We've had quite the weekend, which explains why I didn't make a post last Thursday. Jack threw up his breakfast Thursday morning, then continued feeling ill all day. I came home early, skipping my workout for the first time in six weeks (!).

Jack was sick all day Friday -- I stayed home. More vomiting. He started to feel better Friday night.

Ate well Saturday morning! Too well... it all came back up in an explosive fashion. Spent the rest of Saturday recuperating from his Vesuvian episode. That was supposed to be the day we all went to the rodeo together, but that wasn't going to happen. Maybe next week.

By Sunday he was doing better, although he stayed home with Jamie during church. Now he's back to his old self, laughing and having fun. Boy, did I miss that!

One silver lining, though, is that I got to spend a ton of time with Samantha over the weekend. We went out together on Friday (YMCA, swim class, lunch) and Saturday (bowling, grocery shopping, play). She is really turning into a beautiful, hilarious little woman. "Daddy-Daughter Time", as we call it, was sorely overdue and deeply appreciated over the past few days. Here are a few anecdotes from that time:

It's Ain't Easy

Samantha and I were eating lunch when this dialogue popped up:

Sam (looking down, sadly): Daddy, it's hard being four. It's hard to wait until November 28 when I'm five.
Me: Really? What's hard about being four, sugar?
Sam: Sometimes I get really tired, but when I try to take a nap, it's hard to sleep. When I'm five I won't have to take a nap anymore.
Me: That's a good point -- I hadn't thought of that.

But just wait until she's five, and suddenly her computer programming class has some hard midterm exams. She'll wish for the good old days when naps were the bane of her existence.

Humble Pie

On Saturday we went bowling together, just the two of us. She's grown quite a bit since Thanksgiving, the last time she played, and it was shocking to watch her sling a 7-pound ball down the lane.

I was also surprised by how well I was doing. After a few frames, I started "feeling the juice", and putting on a show. Usually, just a second or two after rolling the ball, I can tell if it's going to be a strike. So when it felt good, I'd just turn around and walk toward Samantha, giving her a high five before the ball even hit the pins. She was impressed, in the way only a four-year-old girl can be impressed by her Daddy. Which is to say, she thought I was weird.

Around the seventh frame, though, I pulled my "too cool to watch" trick and gave her a high five. But she pulled her hand back, pointed behind me and said, "Daddy, there's still one left." Oops.

Humble pie, part 2

Saturday night we were eating together at the dinner table, when Samantha stuffed her mouth with WAY too much tortilla. I instinctively began to deride her for bad manners... but I couldn't. You see, my mouth was too full. It may have actually been more full than hers.

Ya know, this parenting thing is tough enough already -- do I have to get my hypocrisy shoved into my face so directly? She continued to chew her tortilla, and I chewed on my foot and my pride.


Warning: Thursday's post will contain biblical references, introspection and philosophizing.