Gluten Free Party Problems.

I don't know if you noticed, but it snowed a bit today.

My husband noticed, since his face froze while snow blowing this afternoon.  I was out there helping too, but my facial hair is a little less substantial and, let's be honest, I was only out there for about 15 minutes before I wimped out.  

This is going to be a busy week.  I will also likely find myself in tears by the end of it.  My baby is turning 5.  5.  FIVE!!!!  How did this HAPPEN???  How is he FIVE?!?!?!  Needless to say I am not handling this well.

So with his party coming this weekend we have been wrestling with a party planning decision.  Ben has asked for pizza to be served at his party for him and his friends.  Since Ben cannot have gluten, this presents us with a decision to make.  I can make only gluten free pizza and force all his guests (kids included) to try out and pretend to enjoy gluten free pizza crust.  Or, I can make a couple gluten free pizzas and order a few regular pizzas from the store down the street.  While the second option sounds like the best and most logical option there is one slight problem with this.  Ben really shouldn't be around ANY gluten.  Even the gluten he's not eating.  If I let the other kids eat regular pizza I run the risk of Ben getting cross contaminated and then possibly quite sick on his birthday.  And that's just not fair.  But, is it fair to expect other adults AND kids to eat pizza that, while not terrible, is quite a bit different than what they're used to?  We've been back and forth over about this for a couple of weeks now.  While I really feel strongly that our house remain a "safe" zone for Ben, I think we are going to have to order a few "alternative" pizzas to serve to our guests.  Also, gluten free pizza crust is expensive and a pain in the balls to work with.  It will make my life easier to order a few pizzas to fill in the cracks.  (And, for the record, Don often orders pizza that he eats at home, but he is very careful about avoiding contact with Ben when he does so.)  So in hopes of avoiding cross contamination on his birthday, all Ben's friends will be under strict hand-washing orders and will have to keep their food away from him.  While this isn't my ideal plan, I think it will work and will make the party enjoyable for Ben and his guests.  If not, well, we'll try again next year!  Lego Pizza Party....here we come!!!

He is Literally Hilarious

From time to time I find myself having to stop and remind myself that my son is only four.  Well, nearly five now, but you get my point.  He's always been a very articulate speaker and asks really good questions for a four year old.  (He's brilliant.  And I am not at all biased.)  But then there are those times where I am reminded that he is VERY literal still.  Sarcasm, jokes, even some imaginative thinking is still beyond him at this point.  It's not to say that he doesn't have an imagination, good grief, the kid has an awesome imagination, it's just that he's still very literal.  Take for example his sound effects.  Onomatopoeia is pretty much beyond him.  If he is mimicking an action the sound effect is usually the action.  IE "Mom, I'm going to get your nose!"  As he reaches for my noise he will say "take" and then move to put my nose on his face and say "put on."  Yup.  That's how Ben rolls.  No "pop" or "rip" or "honk" it's "take."  I'm pretty sure that's normal.  It is weird though...

Another good example are jokes.  I told him the infamous knock-knock joke:

Knock-knock.
Who's there?
Banana.
Banana who?
Knock-knock.
Who's there?
Banana.
Banana who?
Knock-knock.
Who's there?
Orange.
Orange who?
Orange you glad I didn't say banana again???

He now assumes that all knock-knock jokes are about fruit.  And punch lines are just beyond him.

Knock-knock.
Who's there?
Grape-banana.
Grape-banana who?
RACE CAR!!!

See what I mean?  He just doesn't get it.  Not even a little.  His little kid brain just doesn't work like that.  Which is fortunate, because it means he can get away with things like this:

This is Ben's Lego invention, a "Poikey-eared Hooker"

Ben:  "Look Mom! I made a poikey-eared hooker!"

Me: "Ummm, what is it?"

Ben: "A poikey-eared hooker.  You know, because it has a hook!"

He's just so damn literal....and it can be pretty hilarious!

New Adventures for 2015

2015 is a new year.  Which means that we can ignore how little blogging I did in 2014 and start fresh.  I really WANT to do more blogging this year, like at least once a week.  Why?  Because I really want to write more, in general.  I'm not saying I'm the world's greatest writer-I'm not-but I'm not terrible either.  The more I write, the easier it becomes, the easier it becomes, the better I get.  Well in theory anyway.  A theory that I really need to put to the test.

With that said, I'm going to blog.

So, as you may or may not know, we have a Golden Retriever.  The dog and I have a love-hate relationship.  It is mostly hate, on both sides, but after nearly 11 years together, we've learned to tolerate each other.  On Friday, I had the pleasure of bringing him to the vet for blood work.  After boosting him in the car (he's a very old man) we made a slip-slidey trek to our vet.  Upon opening the car door I discovered he had no intent on getting out of the car.  Begging, pleading and bribing did not work, so I braced myself and hauled him out of the car.  It wasn't pretty, but he made it out. When we walked in the new lady at the desk asked me to get him to stand on the scale.  While this was a once easy feat, it has been complicated now by the fact that the dog does not like to step on weird feeling surfaces, like the scale, because he's afraid he's going to fall.  After a few minutes of bribing I got him on there.  For a second.  The lady behind the desk did not have much patience for us and said she got his weight.  Since it was a good 10 pounds more than usual I have a feeling she may have fudged the numbers a bit.  Anyway, she took him out back for his blood test while I waited.

Moments later she was back and (fortunately) the dog had behaved himself.  The desk lady gave me a bit of a scowl as she whipped out a lint roller "He's very hairy."

He's a golden retriever.  

"Uh, yeah," I said, "he's pretty hairy."

I paid my bill and left quickly.  As I mentioned, the dog and I have a relationship based mostly on hate.  So while I begged and pleaded with him to jump quickly back in the car, he ignored me and pooped in the parking lot.  And this was not just a poop.  This was an epic poop.  A walking poop that he had clearly been holding for DAYS in anticipation of ruining our trip to the vet.  It wasn't pretty.  And it was in the middle of the damn parking lot.

So, with another heft, I loaded the dog back up into the car. The car for the first time ever, was completely void of grocery bags.  So back into the office I trudged to ask for a poop bag.

The lady scowls at me.

"Hi, my dog pooped in the parking lot, do you have a bag or something I could use to clean it up?  Like a grocery bag or something?"

She sighs and climbs off her seat and offers me a poop bag.

A poop bag the size of a sandwich bag.  Clearly made for chihuahua poop.

I look at the bag.

I look at her.

She frowns.

I look at the bag.

I look at her scowl.

"Thank you!" I said cheerily as I took the sandwich bag from her.

Epic poop.  Sandwich bag.

Needless to say it was a fairly gross endeavor, but damn if I didn't get it all in that miniature chihuahua poo bag.  

There was not an outside trashcan.  And I was NOT going back in with a sack full-FULL-of poo.

It was a rather smelly ride home, which I'm fairly certain the dog enjoyed thoroughly.

**I actually have the best vet's office in the world and they have been nothing but wonderful to me and my pets.  I'm sure I will be able to say the same about this new desk person after we have had a few more interactions.