No more moo goo gai pan

Our Chinese restaurant is closing as of tomorrow (Monday) because of the virus, which is terrible for them and both bad and not-so-bad for us.

For them: I don’t know if they’re closing because they can’t afford to stay open or if they don’t have the staff to stay open.  Neither option is good, and I can’t even hope it’s one or the other.

For us: well, no more ordering Chinese food for a while.

  • The bad: No more Chinese food for the foreseeable future.  There’s only one other Chinese takeout place nearby, and it’s not as good.
  • The not-so-bad: NO MORE CHINESE FOOD FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE.  Considering how prone to ordering (and then eating) everything in sight I am when it comes to Chinese food, this can only be a good thing for my overall health.

All three of us enjoyed our last Chinese takeout meal FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUT-sorry.  Jack happily ate what we ate and then guzzled down a full cup of water.

The many meanings of “up”

Jack says “up” a LOT, and the word keeps getting new meanings (without getting rid of the old ones).  It started out just meaning “pick me up”.  Then, sometimes “up” meant “move, please” or “get out of my way”.  Next, “up” started to mean “down”, as in “put me down” or “I want to get down” if he was already up.  (And if he says “up” and you say, “do you mean down?”, he’ll say “yup”.  He just won’t attempt to say down.)  After that, “up” could also mean “on top of” something or “higher than something else”.  Like, he’ll lift the ladder on top of his fire truck and say “up”, or he’ll stack a toy on top of another toy and say “up”.  Most recently, like new yesterday, Jack looked at John, pointed next to him on the rug, and said “up”.  He very clearly meant “sit down right here, Dad.”  A couple hours later, he was sitting in the big gray chair and he did the same thing to me.  Pointed to the cushion and said “up.”  So I sat down next to him in the chair, and he was happy.

(Up is a super weird-looking tiny word.)

Social distancing is not a problem in this household

This whole coronavirus thing hasn’t changed our lives all that much yet.  We’re already basically hermits.  Jack and I had been getting out a lot, and we do miss our baby friends (and their moms) and the library story times, but the weather is getting nicer and we’re compensating by taking morning hikes and then collapsing into naptime.

“Hikes”, I should say.  We’re walking on level paths through some woods or around a pond, at Jack’s pace.  He’s been doing great – he walks on his own more than half a mile before he asks to be picked up, and even then he still walks a little more.  Then we have a snack and a diaper change, and he falls asleep on the way home and through the transfer into the crib.

We’ve only seen a handful of people, all keeping their distance.  Jack has discovered the joys of scuffing his feet through leaves, pine needles, gravel – whatever the path is made of.  Then he runs, he falls, and he giggles when I brush off his hands.

A very merry unbirthday to you

I have decided that we are going to celebrate half-birthdays in this house, primarily because it’s an excuse to eat cake.  No one is fighting this decision.

We started with Jack.  He turned 18 months on March 26th, and to celebrate, we sang “happy half-birthday to you”, showed him the giant bunny head balloon I found (he likes bunnies, calls them “hops”), and gave him a chocolate-frosted cupcake for breakfast.

To any readers still out there

I never meant for this blog to become mini book reviews only.  I’m at least a little bit grateful that I’m able to keep up with those (or at least catch up every month or two), and a lot of that has to do with how SLOW my reading pace is lately.  I used to be able to read while nursing Jack, but he got faster, and then we started weaning, and now we’re done.  Now I only get to read before bed, or on the rare evening I don’t have to work (like tonight! Except I’m doing this instead!).

Speaking of work, I’m still working part-time (20 hours a week).  My company is still letting me do it, and I have no intention of changing it.  I get a couple of hours in early in the morning (like 5:30 to 7:30), the occasional meeting during the day, and IF Jack naps in the crib, I work then.  If I don’t hit four hours, I do the rest after Jack goes to bed.  During the day, Jack is still pretty…needy? Clingy? Insistent that I be physically attached to him while he plays?  Point: I can’t get any work or reading done while he’s awake.

Jack is still perfect and wonderful, of course.  He’ll be 18 months old in 2 days, which is CRAZY, like completely bonkers.  Not that he survived, or that we kept him alive, but DUDE.  I have an 18-month-old.  Wut.

Someday I’ll post pictures again

How We Know For Certain That Jack Is Our Son:

  • If he’s not done with it, he brings his bath book out of the bath.
  • He’s been known to prop up his book on the back of his play grill while he play-grills.
  • He likes to read in the car.
  • Sometimes the car book goes to the grocery store with us.
  • He brought me the cookie tin, so I gave him the last cookie in it.  When he heard me talking about making more cookies, he brought me a bag of chocolate chips.