Fishcapades

Welp, I missed another weekend of blogging last weekend, and for no good reason. I am physically unable to cast my memory back over more than seven days at a time to retrieve details, so week before last will have to be gone forever. I'm pretty sure it was fun, but we'll never know for sure. Man, sometimes I wish I were afflicted/endowed with that condition that causes one to remember the details of every day of one's life. I forget what that is called. Ha. Hold on, Googling..."autobiographical memory." That's it.

This past week was hot, and it's had me in a bit of a funk. My resting temperature is several degrees higher than that of the average human, and as a result, summer is my least favorite season, and I mean by far. (Visitors tend to wear a jacket or sweater in my house, and I think once when my Mom was here I found her nosing around for a ski suit and parka. She definitely brings like gloves and a scarf when she comes.) When I feel hot, I feel angry and peevish and other similar unpleasant adjectives, so I tend to try to stay indoors during the summer. Up until this week, that is, when I discovered that I can successfully manage both boys at a pool, provided that the water is no deeper than two and a half or three feet. Friday we went to a friend's house for a play date, and Henry and Charlie had such a good time they didn't want to leave. It was a little embarrassing, really, especially when coupled with the fact that Henry also invited himself inside for a snack just as everyone was leaving, then when we were inside, kept pointing at various food and asking if he could have also have some of that. Repeatedly.

On Monday we went to the FMC with friends and had the usual fun, except I enjoyed it more than usual because it was so cool inside. On Tuesday we received the exciting news that our friend Christina had had her baby boy, and this was definitely the highlight of the week. That night I went with Cindy and Kristin to visit them at the hospital, and holding baby Alex, who is about the most gorgeous newborn I've ever seen, gave me a feeling I did not expect. A feeling like, "Uh oh, I thought we were only having two children, but...." !!!! I believe it has passed now. Yes, it definitely has. Definitely. Definitely.

Wednesday morning, the boys and I ventured out to the pet store, just to look around. We started out with the cats, browsed through the dog treats (why, oh why is this Henry's favorite part of the store when there are real live animals?!), then wandered over to the fish tanks. That's when I remembered: our goldfish, Pokey, needed a new aquarium! I feel intense guilt pangs each time I pass his one gallon aquarium (yes, they make one gallon aquariums) and see him crammed in there, especially since I read online that one should provide at least three gallons of space for "each one inch of fish." Pokey is easily an inch and a half of fish, and although he never complains, sometimes he glances at me reproachfully just after I've fed him (any other time he is too busy begging me for food, food, please woman, give me some of that fish food there). So anyway, we picked out a nice three gallon tank for him and some plastic plants, and we were just about to head up to the register when we passed a tank full of plecostomus, known to the non-fish enthusiast as "those ugly black sucker fish who clean the scum from the tank," which Henry loves. He asked if we could buy one, "as a friend for Pokey," and I, having just consumed a fully caffeinated grande iced coffee from Starbucks and temporarily forgetful of the "three gallons per inch of fish" rule, said, "Sure!" So off we went to pay for Pokey's new home, and his new housekeeper. The employees at the pet store assured me that this three-inch long plecostomus was not an aggressive fish and would be fine housed with a goldfish in a three gallon tank. We left feeling excited about our purchases, and when we met our friends Megan, Sarah, and Logan at Chick-fil-A for lunch, we had to take the plecostomus inside because of the terrible heat. He was a good conversation piece.

Thursday morning, when I went to check on Pokey and "Genie" ("Jeannie"?), as Henry named him, Pokey looked a little piqued. He was holding what I believe to be his dorsal fin (the one on top?) in a peculiar way, and I immediately blamed Genie/Jeannie. I happened to think maybe I should double check online about placing a goldfish and a plecostomus in the same relatively small tank, so I did just that. Fish enthusiasts online provided anecdotes that terrified me and sent me running back to the tank to fish Pokey out of the new tank and put him back in his cramped old one-gallon tank: apparently plecostomus are relatively docile, except that the slime coat that covers the goldfish is delicious to them! Delicious. Once they notice this fact, and it's only a matter of time until they do, the goldfish is in a bad situation. The ensuing attack is unexpected and gory. Thursday evening, we sent Genie/Jeannie packing, back to the pet store, where we purchased a tiny white goldfish as Pokey's replacement roommate. Henry named him "Teeny," and they seem to be getting on well, although Teeny is a bit of a nervous type and seems to think his reflection is another tiny, white, jittery little goldfish.

Also Thursday morning, we had some friends over to play in the sprinkler in the front yard, where we still have a decent amount of shade in the morning, despite the loss of one of our Bradford pears during a storm a few months back. Coincidentally, at precisely the same time our guests began arriving, the man we hired to replace the Bradford pear showed up, blocked the driveway, and commandeered our hose (the hose we were supposed to be using to run the sprinkler and to fill up the kiddie pool and the water table). I forgave him, though, when I saw the gorgeous tulip poplar tree he'd brought to plant in the pear tree's place. It's really beautiful and about seven feet tall (or maybe more). The tree guy advised that I should water the tree every morning and night for a week or two, and I actually laughed out loud when he said this because I can't even find time to replace the filter on our water filtration pitcher, which was supposed to be changed in February. However, our friend Megan loaned us a sort of skirt that goes around the tree that you fill with water, and it releases the water slowly to the roots of the tree. This seems to be keeping our new tree happy, and I feel a thrill of pleasure every time we drive past our house and I see it standing there, all tall and healthy. The play date was a hit and ended with Henry and his friends opening up our box o' musical instruments and forming an impromptu band. Henry's friend Parker was especially enthusiastic about the trumpet, which was adorable and hilarious.

I already covered Friday. Saturday was our friend Claire's fourth birthday party. It is so fascinating to be able to watch our kids grow up with kids we've known almost their entire lives. The party was lots of fun, though a scary/hilarious moment came when Charlie, fully clothed, plunged headlong into the foot-deep kiddie pool. I was on Charlie duty but was busy snapping pictures of Henry whacking a pinata, so all I heard was a splash (F- on the mothering, there, Jill). Kristin snatched him out just in time, and he was scared and mad, and rightfully so. Cindy snapped a picture of the moment.

Charlie: Charlie's vocabulary is finally expanding. He has his own Charlie versions of ball, banana, water, bottle, up, dada, and mama. Russell and I were discussing his sweet little personality yesterday, and Russell said (and I agree) that the image that best captures his personality is him strutting along, smiling, head held high. He also has a habit of leaning his head way back, smiling, and exclaiming, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!" when he is happy. Charlie is Daddy's boy right now, and he cries when Russell leaves the room or leaves for work. He is experiencing some pretty intense separation anxiety right now, and I can't really leave him with anyone but Russell, or hysterical screaming ensues, and that's not really fun for anyone. I don't mind this, because I know it means we are bonded, and I know it will pass.

Henry: Henry's most frequently used phrase right now is, "I can do it mySELF!" and that makes me so proud. He is fully, fully potty trained now, and that is more liberating than I realized it would be. Often he shuts the door and reminds me, "Mommy, I need my privacy!" He can also fully dress himself now (also liberating). He has picked up the habit of saying, "For real, Mommy!" when he is trying to convince me that he is earnest about something. I'm not sure where he got this, though I did hear Russell say it a few minutes ago. He also asked me recently, "When I grow up, will I still be Henry?"