Go, Team Zorak!

Well, the baby survived. James got to feed him, which he thought was Very Cool, Indeed. The kids helped Zorak with Jase and then they worked in the garden and let me stay inside to recover. It was nice to know that all went well while I was away. I love my family - they pull together to beautifully when they're needed.

The dentist visit also went well. He laughed at me for falling asleep. Repeatedly. Yeah, that's weird. I can say that facing your fears through submersion is pretty effective. Ten years ago, I had to blink back tears the minute my butt hit the chair. Now, particularly after the umpteen thousand hours I've spent under that x-files style lighting (what's up with that, anyway?) the last three years, it doesn't phase me a bit. I've got to go in for a root canal either Monday or Tuesday - and then back on Wednesday to cement the two crowns they did today, prep for the root canal crown, and prep on another crown on the other side. I think there's one more visit after that, and then we'll have to make some big decisions on where to go from there. I'm seriously going to have to download the Bionic Woman soundtrack for the drive! (At the very least, that cool running noise she made - remember that?) Oh, and the opening bars of The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly soundtrack. What a way to get psyched up for an appointment!

The boys are now all begging to go see their dentist. I'm not sure why, exactly, but I'll run with it. It's time for their checkups, anyway.

The big-big news, though, is that there's a box winging it's way to us from Rainbow Resource this week, and another one from Logos School, too! So. Stoked about that! Oh, yeah... stuff to do while we hide from the summer heat!

Finished Midshipman Hornblower, and am about halfway through Lieutenant Hornblower. What fun! I love to go to sea. I can hardly wait for James to pick up these books. I need a reading buddy. :-) But I'm not going to rush him - this is all going way too quickly, as it is.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Off!

Off to the dentist again in a few minutes. This is going to be another four-hour visit. Three crowns. I swear, by the time I'm done, I'll have the Bionic Mouth.

**girls stuff, skip if squeamish**

I tried expressing for Jase, but as it turns out, he decided he'd like to have a growth spurt this week. So, the well isn't exactly overflowing right now. *sigh* You'd think on my fifth child, I would have those time periods permanently etched in my brain and think to say, "OH, not that week, please" when scheduling appointments. But, no. I'm not that bright.

Hopefully, there's enough to tide him over. Now I'm just praying his recent nurse-a-thon sit-in doesn't yield results while I'm propped up in the dentist's chair!

**end girl stuff, read on without fear**

Love the compressed work schedule, though. Zorak is home today, so we didn't have to bribe someone to watch four big kids and a potentially irate infant. That's always nice.

I'm taking my Hornblower books (Midshipman Hornblower, Lt. Hornblower, and whatever comes after that one), so maybe I'll get a little reading time? There's a silver lining, even if you have to pencil it in, yourself.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Quick Pics

We did the weekend warrior thing on the balcony, but I haven't organized the pictures for that and haven't had my first cup of coffee yet, either. So, you get pictures of grass, kids, and the birdfeeder.

Do you think the squirrel guard wouldn't frighten the birds if we put a matte finish on it? They haven't eaten a thing out of it since we put that up. Of course, neither have the squirrels, but still... Anyway, it's inspired me to give the boys tin snips and ask them to make giant whirlygigs for the fruit trees. But we'd like to have them come back to the feeder, at least.

Ah, well, it's all good! Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Mmm-mmm, good.

We accomplished so much today. It was fantastic. But my favorite parts of the weekend had nothing to do with progress, or preparation, or anything on our To-Do List. My favorite parts were, as photographed...
* listening to James play the recorder as he sat cross-legged on the bumper buddy...
* watching John rig a contraption for carrying the bucket as he collected pine cones (Zorak and I agree that while he would do just fine on a deserted island, he's enjoy it way too much and douse the fire anytime he heard a plane -- we'd never hear from him again)...
* gardening with EmBaby, and wondering how it is that toddlers can beat the odds and get those little shoes on the wrong feet, every. single. time. But oh, what precious little backward feet...
* looking at Smidge and realizing he's just not much of a Smidge anymore -- he's growing up fast...

This is why we do it, you know. I need to print this photo collage out and tape a copy up in every room, for those times I can't quite wrap my mind around why we're doing this. I just need to remember that I won't find the answer on any list. I have to look around to really see the A-list priorities.

Of course, that said, we worked 'em like black-market child labor all weekend. :-) The upper meadow is mowed and de-limbed. The entire front yard is seeded and mulched. There are five happy little hostas planted in front of the porch. We dismantled the old stringers, removed another good chunk of the brick steps, gathered the bricks and cement debris from the sidewalk we'd pulled up, and took them down to begin filling the driveway holes and building up where the creek had washed away a good five feet of drive over the culvert. We tidied up the construction zone, gathered wood and kindling for a bonfire, and worked in the garden.

Zorak installed not one, but two, sillcocks at the upper end of the house -- one for the front yard and garden areas, one for the back yard. WOOHOO! (That one is almost as exciting to me as the day we got indoor plumbing!)

I finally made it to the fabric store for muslin, the missing key component in the reupholstery project that is destined to make Brand New Furniture sound like a great idea the next time something goes to pot around here, and velcro.

Then, the kids feasted on Otter Pops and played. Zorak and I are going to collapse.

Five days til the birthday bbq. Still trying to line up a bush hog. Need to firm up rental reservations tomorrow. Need to start the shopping list, and buy a grill. Oh, and finish that couch.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

No Title Today

Can't think of one. However, is there anything more relaxing than a canopy of Dogwood leaves?Saw the periodontist yesterday. He said the underlying tooth is surprisingly intact, structurally, and thinks a new crown can be reset on it. He referred me to a new dentist when I expressed my concerns with the one who had originally referred me to the perio. (The upside of getting a dental referral from a periodontist is that he sees the work of all the dentists around, and can steer you in a direction that may fit well with your needs! I *really* hope this pans out!) I showed him the concrete-like slab my last dentist put in, and he said this new guy does fantastic restorative work. Say a prayer, please? I go in today at 1:30.

I've accomplished diddly-squat around here, lately, other than treading water and barely keeping up with feeding and cleaning. This weekend, I'm locking the children outside with little satchels of snacks, bottles of water, and a GPS so that I can finish up:

* the couch (the book I mentioned last week did seem to help, at least with pointing out what an idiot I am, and where I've gone wrong thus far - so, that's good),

* the covers for the barstools (my initial plan hasn't worked so well - they're a PITB to get off to wash, and so, they don't get washed -- ew),

* hopefully the new curtains for our room (because the current blankets-on-nails motif is just soooo early "Broke Undergrad"),

* and curtain trim for EmBaby's room (she's had Thomas curtains this whole time -- not imperative to correct, but would be nice, I'm sure).

Hopefully, we can also borrow a tiller and get some seed planted, as well as put the two little hostas in the ground before they go into total shock and die back completely. I still have to go talk to the neighbors about keeping their chickens in check for a couple of weeks, so the seeds (both lawn and garden) can take root instead of becoming chicken feed. Not looking forward to that, but I think I've just made it bigger in my head than it needs to be. I *will* suck it up and take care of that before Saturday. (Hold me accountable!)

And, as you can see, Smidge is still into both baseball, and posing for pictures (he actually scrambled to get his glove when he saw me stalking him with the camera!)...

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

More?

Oh, man. Nobody warned us that Brindlee Mtn. is WAY. THE. HECK. OUT. THERE. Or, that it's atop an actual mountain. (I didn't know we even had mountains around here!) It took longer to get to James' game last night than it takes Zorak to get to work in the mornings! AND, since it was way the heck UP there, as well, although it was 81 at our place, it certainly wasn't 81 up there. We froze. We also didn't get home until ten.

The kids played hard last night. The final score was 23-4. I hate games like that, even when we're the ones with 23 runs (and we aren't always - our kids have had their share of spankings this season, as well). There are 11 other children who played hard, stayed up late, and still felt the disappointment of getting spanked on the field. We much prefer a close, well-matched game, for overall enjoyment factor. The team our guys played, though, had some players with serious heart. One kid got "cleated" - our guy slid into the base just as their guy reached down with the ball and, *ka-pow* cleats to the back of the hand. Yeouch. I can't believe he shook it off and stayed on the field! I'd have spent the rest of the game at the snack shack, trying to get free sno-cones "for my hand".

Gotta call the dentist today. Last night one of my crowns fell prey to a killer grilled cheese sandwich. *sigh* Go figure, it's the one I paid almost $2000 for in Arizona. The one I paid $350 for in Mexico is still standing strong. Gah, I'm so over the dental issues.

Today, also, we've got to straighten the wall in the barn garden, and finish baiting the fire ant mounds. Thrills-a-minute this week, folks! Just wait til Thursday, when we sort underwear drawers! You won't believe what wild and crazy guys we are!

Ok, ok, now I'm just getting silly. I'm going to go. You have a great day. I'll post pictures tonight, or something. To make up for the lousy posting this week. Honest. :-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

I need a massage therapist.

Wonder if there are any studying at the University who need to rent a room in exchange for taking on a family clientele?

Three piers, poured and curing. Plus one of the gaping holes up where the ledger board fits against the house. We're making progress. WooHoo!

The boys did Latin, reading, piano and math... we're back in the saddle, again! Technically, we're covering history and reading together as we study legends from the Middle Ages, so that's sort of a double-bonus.

Another day of practices and games. Long day, but thankfully, all at the same park. Yay.

Ran over a screw at some point today. I'm not sure when or where, but the leaking air made a spectacular noise that the boys noticed when we piled out of the car after the game tonight. Thankfully, they thought to say something about it!

Zorak to the rescue - he not only ran to the store to buy a tire plug, but he helped get the littles down before he left. The tire is now healed. Mmm, my hero!

And today's thought:

I am really thankful some things aren't any bigger than they are...

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Work-In-Progress Wednesday

We did not work on the basement today. No, today, I took a deep breath, exhaled, repeated those two steps until I nearly hyperventilated and then, in my best non-squeaky, didn't-need-this-before-coffee voice, reminded the children that *knowing* the right thing to do, and *doing* it are not the same thing. However, they do need to go hand-in-hand at some point before we unleash you (the children) on an unsuspecting world. *sigh* So, we worked in the house, where I could keep them close and help them work on little things. You know, the usual - Impulse control. Paying attention to where you're walking. Impulse control. Ability to focus on the task at hand. And, a little more impulse control, just to liven things up a bit.

We accomplished so much! They always amaze me with their *ability* to work. They're always willing to work, but without that constant adult presence, they, um... forget. It's not intentional, and it's not malicious. They just forget. Which, to be truthful, doesn't feel horribly encouraging at eight in the morning. However, it is. Their hearts are good. It's just their brains that need a little fine tuning. And when I think ahead to the teen years, I'd rather have to deal with a good-hearted space-cadet than a machinating evil genius.

Today, we cleared off the two bookshelves (cleared, sorted, sifted, and purged!), the tea cart (find a home for this stuff or throw it out), and the corner hutch (where all the dishes, glasses and china live) in the living and dining areas. We cleaned them all, and then swapped the two rooms into mirror images. The green dining room is now, experimentally, the living room, and the itty-bitty living corner (not quite a room, really) is now the dining area. Corner. Whatever. I'll shoot for pictures in the morning, when the light is better. It was dark before we thought to take pictures today. It needs more tidy work but, so far, we love it.

We did laundry. We rode bikes. We played jump rope. The boys read their current selections. I started Moby Dick. Again. I enjoy it every time I start it, but I don't know what happens. Oh, yes, I do. I forget where I put the book and can't ever find it until we clean off bookshelves again. I need a Clapper to attach to whichever book I'm currently reading. Wouldn't that be handy?

The boys did such a fantastic job all day that I got a wild hair and introduced them to the Netflix Watch Now thing this afternoon. Heh. That was cool. We fixed snacks and watched The Prince and The Pauper. While we watched, I decided to be truly productive and FINALLY sewed up two of the couch cushion covers. Mostly sewed up. I can't get the recycled zippers to cooperate, so the closures are going to have to be Velcro. However, that is 2/3 of the cushion job, done! And now that the couch is against a wall, that buys me a little more time to do the body. (Planned procrastination... is that horribly wrong, or does it have a certain ring to it?)

Tomorrow is Gauntlet Day. I think James has a game way south of here and Smidge has his first game. In town. At the same time. ARGH. No clue how I'm going to pull that one off. Obviously, Smidge can't be left. However, if you read the opening few paragraphs to this post, I'm not exactly chomping at the bit right now to turn James loose with an unsuspecting adult. *sigh* I miss Zorak. (Though not just for the tag-team taxi work. Honest.)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Time To Slow It Down A Bit

(A post in which it seems I've decided to abuse quotation marks and hypenation. You've been warned.)

I've been feeling a bit punky the past couple of days, and I think it's time to slow down. Not slow-down-relatively-speaking, but honest-to-goodness-slow-the-heck-down.

We had a prenatal appointment Friday, and while there is nothing "wrong", things weren't quite as "spot on" as I'd like them to be. The swelling's getting worse - up to my knees now, and leaves imprints if I lean on something (ew - but not to the point of having to worry, as it's not in my hands or face, and there are no other concerns on that end), my blood pressure (while not even close to being considered "high") is high-for-me, I'm throwing a little protein (again, not enough to raise the flag of alarm, but a little, which I've never done before), and little Heiney is now measuring smaller than the last visit (which we think is b/c he's snugged in so tightly and so far down that the midwife could only feel the nape of his neck - that's a good thing, generally speaking, although not-comfortable-in-the-least from my perspective).

Then yesterday, I was out of breath and crampy all morning. Finally, in the midst of fixing breakfast, I did something I've never done before. I fixed myself a plate, asked Zorak to feed everyone else, and hid in my room. Well, "hid" is a relative term. I went to my room, whereupon everybody followed me. But still, at least I was holed up in bed with a high-protein plate of food and all the water Smidge could bring me in many, many trips with a 3oz. cup. I think he covered a good mile with all the trips he made. (He's so good to me. gush-gush) And then, I napped. Sweet, blissful, guilt-free napping from mid-morning til after noon. Felt much better.

But it still took a few hours for me to realize that *this* is exactly what I need to be doing more of.

So, I'm going to do more of it.

Which means that unless I can come up with some way to make the inside of my eyelids into an interesting blog post, or regale you all with detailed analysis of the thread count on my sheets, the next week's worth of blogging may be a bit... um, incoherent? Boring? I don't know. Maybe I can get Zorak to guest blog once in a while or something, right?

And so, early-to-bed, it's 10:37 and I'm off for a nap!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

It's Feeling Like Springtime!

It was in the 70's today, and absolutely "glorious", as James put it. Zorak worked on the garden, the yard, and the fence. I worked on the house. We turned off the HVAC and flung wide the doors. (We also let in the spiders and moths. Oops.)

The children alternated between climbing trees to perch up there and read (which sounds infinitely more romantic than it is - they're all covered in scratches and bark-burn now, and we've yet to locate one of the books), and helping with the work. Emily free-ranged most of the day, buried a pair of shoes in a pile of leaves, rode her tricycle down the driveway, talked a brother into hauling it back up for her. All-in-all, a really great day.

Me-Wa and Me-Tae came out mid-afternoon and visited. The guys got a good portion of the fence panels put up. John learned how to mix concrete. EmBaby delighted in having her "Nice Terry" (her personal name for Me-Tae) to wallow in all afternoon. I didn't accomplish much at that point other than fetching the occasional beer, and enjoying a relaxing visit with friends. Good stuff, that.

Erin and her little brood of chicks (most of the familial unit of our Wonderful Neighbors from MD) will be here in just a few more days. We'll turn the whole flock loose to play in the mud while us preggo mamas sit on the porch and gestate in the lovely Spring Weather. The kids are stoked, but I think I'm actually more excited about this visit than they are.

Did you have a lovely weekend, too? I hope so!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Feeling a Little Pouty

It's an odd sensation to be able to acknowledge that your feelings aren't rational or based on reality, and give them room to just float to the surface so you can deal with them and move on. This is funny, because... well, because I am feeling a little pouty, and because I know it's infantile.

But you know what? My ankles are bigger around than my calves right now (and I am not a "petite" woman with slender calves, to begin with), and gosh-darn-it, while I'm okay with embracing the fact that this is a different season of life than we were in nine and a half years ago and we're in a different place, and none of it is bad...

I'm feeling a wee bit neglected in the "expectant mother" category this time around. I can't get a foot rub, or a back rub, or even a sympathetic place to elevate my legs and moan quietly. And to be honest, the pampering from Zorak that I've always received while I was pregnant, well, it kind of made pregnancy a bit more enjoyable for me. Probably made it a bit more work for him, too, which is why I understand that my feeling neglected is infantile. Let's face it...

The man is up and out the door before the sun each morning. He's not a morning person. He does not do this for the fun of it. He does it because he has integrity and does the job he was hired to do. He does it because he loves us and by doing this, he is able to provide this wonderful home and life that we live. If it were solely up to him (and if we would not suffer for it), he would sleep til' noon and work on something interesting after his mid-day coffee. But because we would probably not fare well on that plan, he does the Long Haul thing, instead. How can I possibly complain about that? I can't.

He has a *lot* on his plate. Not only does he drive nearly an hour each way for work, he works a nine-hour day, and then comes home and works-works-works some more. Whether it's on the property, or the vehicles, or on projects with the boys, there is always something to demand his time and attention. Sometimes he is still hard at it well past midnight. There's no burning the midnight oil, because the lamp gives out before he does. Thank God for drop lights. Again, can't really look at that and throw a little fit, now, can I? Nope.

He does not ask much of me, really. School the children well. Love them and keep them safe and healthy. Keep the house running smoothly. Run the kitchen in a manner that won't actually poison anyone directly. Continue to love him and support him and let him know I'm on his team. There's not a hint of the whole "Sleeping With the Enemy" issue anywhere in the man's psyche. (For the record, the spices are organized the way they are because *I* have issues, not him.) ;-) And he doesn't come in and mess them up, either! Do I have it good, or what? I do. I know.

Two, three, four pregnancies ago, we didn't have so much on our plates. We didn't have a home to refinish, or a barn, or a garden or land. We didn't have plans-in-action yet, or large equipment rentals and drainage to contend with. Come the end of the day, we were both just kind-of tired, not I'm-just-going-to-die-here-on-the-couch exhausted.

We also had cable. I imagine being able to watch History of the Gun and Mail Call helps take your mind off the fact that the woman beached on the couch beside you has just stuck her garish feet in your face and started whimpering like a beaten kitten. Yeah, I get that.

So, I'm good with our quality time being spent on box blades and harley rakes (both of which he has explained to me, and I get! Yay!) But I think I'm going to have to go draw a hot bath and prop my feet up and sing along with Raffi to "Baby Beluga" while I pantomime the song with my feet. Pampering yourself still totally counts as pampering. And it won't put more pressure on him right now, either. And come morning, when the swelling has subsided a bit, so will my little whine-and-cheese party.

After all, it's all good. And for a good cause. And in the big picture, this. is. nothing.

Only three and a half weeks to go!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

There's Something to be Said for the "Grizzled Look"

Really, there is. I wasn't going to agree to pictures, because I wasn't entirely certain this could be fixed. So I rounded up all the baseball caps we own and contemplated asking Aunt B to sent me a really big, really gaudy sombrero from Juarez. I'm set for Spring!

As of right now, however, I have an appointment with a lady in the salon (actually, a different salon, but the same company - every time I called the first salon, HairGuy answered, and I panicked. I know, I'm a wuss. I accept that about myself.) This lady is supposed to be excellent with "color correction" (which is, I take it, a specific field within the hair-realm). So I'll see if I can get John to take some before and after shots. You're a sick bunch, you know that? ;-)

I do think, though, that after this incident I'm just going to let the wrinkles and the naturally bad hair come and ensconce me and call it good. Perhaps I can learn how to pack mules and hire out as a camp guide. Or I could tend the saloon in a re-enactment camp. There's always a use for our natural talents, if we'll just look for one.

Zorak suggested I go ahead and show you now, with this photo. (It's okay, I laughed, too. Then I choked on my coffee. I would have said it's more like this. But then I'd be lying. It's worse.)

And for the record, I'm just having a little fun with it. Yes, even my previous post was written with a grin. There is nothing that can be done to my head that will send me into tears or convince me the world is going to end. It's hair. It'll grow. Granted, a bad haircut grows only mildly slower than dying grass, but it'll grow. And if I'm going to stick with keeping it real, *whispers* this isn't the worst dye job I've ever had. Let me fill you in a bit...

1990: Henna. Yeah, bulk bin, mix-it-yourself, do-it-yourself Henna from the health food store. Did you know you *can* dye your hair calico? And your eyebrows, if you use the same mixture. And, did you know Henna doesn't come out without hardcore chemical warfare? It's true.

1993: my first experience with "cellophanes". In one fell swoop, my stylist chopped my then-golden (naturally golden, at that point) locks from waist length to a chin-length bob and turned what was left into something resembling an oil slick in a wet parking lot. It was a variegated eggplant, with hints of orange and purpley, and very, very shiny. It clashed horribly with my favorite fleece pullover (which had more red tones). I remember sitting at supper one evening with a gentleman friend who couldn't help but comment on the freaky irridescent halo cast by the romantic lights bouncing off the refractory of my head. He also bought me a different jacket to wear until the stuff wore off. Which, it never did. I looked like this for nearly a year. Evidently, my hair is terribly porous.

1996: I had red hair. Beautiful, Maureen O'Hara-style red hair. OH, how I loved it. Oh, how delightfully Irish and whimsical I felt. I loved having red hair. Until I picked up a different brand for a touch up. (It was on sale, and it looked the same on the box.) Turns out, different brands do not always get along. I spent the end of '96 and the first four months of '97 with what we affectionately refer to as "Biker Bitch Burgundy" hair. Lovely. And, wouldn't ya know it, that's the color it was in the last photograph taken of Mom and her four children before my sister passed away. So, yeah, there are 10x13 photos of this particular look hanging on several walls across the country. Nice, huh?

Spread out here and there are the inevitably bad hair cuts. The blunt cut Sphinx head. The Amazing Water Buffalo. The "so, were you mad at me" cut. The list goes on.

But amidst all that, I've managed to hold down jobs, pay for food and beer, expand my education, maintain absolutely fantastic friends (who all have a superb grasp on the absurd), find a delightful man (during one of my more normal phases, anyway - I don't know that he'd have come back to ask me to dance during the Irridescent Eggplant phase), and have children who love me enough to be honest with me when I make bad decisions. (Come to think of it, I can't believe not one of them shouted, "Bad Idea Fairy" when I walked in the door. Huh. I'd have thought that would be the most appropriate response, to be honest.)

Don't let a bad design presentation get ya down. Ever. It's not worth it.

Hopefully EmBaby Will By My Ally...

I *love* living in a house filled to the bursting point with male creatures. Really, I do. It's lively and funny (sometimes a little *too* funny). It's always active, creative, adventurous. It's also... um, brutally honest.

I made it to my hair appointment yesterday. HairGuy did all the work. I sat in my little chair, visited a bit, and read my latest brain candy. I don't know how to do what he does, so I don't try to follow along. Really, if your HairGuy is going to do something *wrong*, by the time you realize it, it's too late to stop it. Plus, there's always that doubt that perhaps it looks just fine and what you need is three days to live with it and adjust to the new look. (Am I right? I'm right.)

A house full of guys does. not. get. this.

I walked in and scooped up Smidge, gave him a big hug and told him how much I missed him. He pushed back a bit, furrowed his brow, and said,

"What did you do's to you's hair?"

I dropped him on the couch and wandered into the kitchen.

...Where Zorak started eyeballing my hair. I don't mean he admired it, or just looked at it. He eyeballed it like he suspected it of outlaw activity in an old Western mining camp.

"Did you pick that tone, or did he?"

(He did. I just sat there.)

He kept staring while he worked. A few minutes later, he could no longer resist and started picking at the front of it. My personal space was being invaded, and my vulnerability levels were already riding high (because it really is Very Very Light - much lighter than my borderline headcovering-like tendencies would have preferred - but I thought we'd already established that I didn't pick the tone.)

"Huh," he snorted. "You have a huge chunk at the front that he didn't get."

(Perfect. I didn't notice that when I'd left. Yet, notice I had not asked what he thought. I wasn't ready for that yet. Anyway, I'm pretty sure I'd have found the chunk, eventually, but right there in the kitchen, with Zorak rubbing teriyaki-covered fingers through my bangs was not the most comfortable way of having my hair critiqued.)

I wandered away to the school room to hide for a bit. James entered. He stopped dead in his tracks and did this wide-eyed, slapstick comedy, full halt that can only mean something painfully blunt is coming from a 9yo boy.

"What? Is? That? Are you going grey, or did you do this on purpose, Mom? You don't even look like the same Mom!"

(Yeah. Like you have any hope of ever dating with this approach, kiddo.)

"You know, how about next time, you just don't do that, okay? It doesn't look natural."

(It's highlights. It's highlights they had to blend into year-old highlights from another salon. I know it's not "natural". Nobody thinks this is my natural color.)

"Well, if you're going to do this..." (He starts messing with the hair on the sides.) "Why don't you try purple next time?" (There is something very wrong with the fact that I know he's trying to be helpful. I do get that.)

(I love you. And I'm going to go rearrange the food shelf in the basement, now. I'll be back when all of you are asleep.)

John? John may just have the mojo it takes to live with women. He never said a word. He smiled and acted like absolutely nothing was wrong. All. Evening. Good boy.

My hope lies with EmBaby, now. Will it come naturally, or is there some kind of indoctrination process I'll need to begin? And when should I start it?

I'll call the HairGuy today. He can fix the missing chunk, I'm sure, but the guys are simply going to have to adjust to the "tone" of my new hair for a while. (Which makes me laugh, because then I picture someone yelling at my hair, "You watch your tone, missy!" For the record, they don't get that, either. *snort*)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Has it been that long?

Four days?!? Whoops.

It's the new format on the WTM forums. It's killing me. The time I spend online is short enough as it is, but I've got to remember to change my order of operations now: email, blog, then boards. Otherwise, I'll disappear into cyberspace and never be heard from again. I'll get the hang of it. Eventually.

Anyway, this was a great weekend, in general. On Thursday night, the boys earned their first Cub Scout badges. The ceremony for that is very sweet, and the boys didn't wash their faces for two days afterword. (The ceremony involves face paint. I can't find the camera, or I'd post pictures.)

Their first cars (practice blocks from scraps here at the house) are done now, and they're ready to make their official cars for the Derby. Melissa's right, that is some Pretty Serious Stuff. Heh. Zorak's been fantastic about letting it be all about the boys. From design to construction to the little details like determining where to place weight and how it ought to be finished, he's let them lead the way and do it all. It shows in their cars. James' has a distinctive Batmobile/Jetsons look to it, and John's is reminiscent of the early-20th Century open road racers. They've had an absolute blast doing all the work, learning more about woodworking and physics, and spending time with Dad. They made the practice cars so they'll have something to play with and won't be tempted to take their derby cars outside for a demolition course before the race.

Because it's just Very Hard To Be Too Little sometimes, and not be in on the projects, (and also, I suspect, because it's fun to make stuff) Zorak made a Camaro for Smidge (who opted for the metallic gold paint - he has no idea how appropriate that is) and a '71 Chevy shortbed pickup for Em (a miniature of my first car, which we hope to haul out here from NM sometime soon!) The boys thought it should be pink, but we're going with the original blue and white. I may keep it for myself. It's really cute. Smidge has already "lowered" his car significantly with all the playtime it's received. And he decorated the hood with the requisite "hot chick and pit bull" paint job. (Actually, I think it's a googly-eyed boy and an army tank, but it's hard to tell. Could be anything, really. He's four, ya know. *grin*)

Zorak and I stayed up for a little date night Thursday. We just talked, hung out, ate a little late-night snack and watched a movie. Man, it's nice to have the coffee table back in the living room! We watched Mr. Woodcock. It's crude, so if you don't enjoy that kind of humor, skip it. But we laughed ourselves silly. It was much better than we'd anticipated. BillyBob Thornton has got astounding comedic timing and great delivery.

Saturday and Sunday were cold. That's about all I remember from those two days. I tried to get some sewing done, but that didn't pan out well. How do you sew with small children and no cupboard to lock yourself in while you work? (Ha - you thought I was going to say "lock them in", didn't you? No. There are four of them and only one of me. It'd be easier to fit just me in there. They're mostly free-range children, anyway.)

And now, it's Monday. January's nearly over. The high today should be just above 60, and soon it'll be Spring. I'm still grappling with how that all comes so quickly. (But I did find my calendar pen, so I think it'll be okay.) On that note, however, I'd best go update everything and get ready to feed the kids.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Well, Thhbbtthhh

My favorite homeschool forum has changed formats. The change was coming, and that's okay. But, there are glitches (I know, glitches are normal, too. I just don't like change. There. I've said it. Hi, I'm Dy, and I don't like change.)

They've disabled the old board, and you can't post on the new board until you receive the registration confirmation email... it's Saturday... think TPTB are doing that this morning? It sounded like the email was generated automatically, but it's been over an hour, now, and no email.

You can read the threads. You just can't post to them.

I feel like the kid who isn't allowed on the playground, so he just stands at the chainlink fence and watches all the other kids play.

Zorak is sick and sleeping in a bit. Emily's sitting on his legs, watching Barney, and the boys are watching some kids-cards-monsters cartoon. I guess I could go clean the bathroom, but really, that doesn't sound like much fun. Hmpf.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

A delicious first day of the year.

Bring it on! I am ready for 2008! My calendars are synchronized. All in the same ink, even. (Which is the non-tech equivalent of having your various software all clean and ready for work.) I feel downright invincible! Muaahaahaaa!!!

We were about four hours later than we'd hoped to be, getting into town, but I had three days' worth of sawdust to get out of my hair (and my pores), so it took some scrubbing. Granted, not four hours' worth, but still, that didn't help.

However, we made it into town, made one stop for jeans for Zorak (which they didn't have - curses! - we miss living in the Southwest, where his jeans are readily available in any clothing outlet *sigh*). The boys, however, when we pulled into Gander Mtn's parking lot, erupted with pleas that surprised us:

Oh! Oh, can we get more Smart Wools?

What? Yes, it seems our offspring have developed a penchant for a specific type of sock. Me-Wa and Me-Tae bought them each a pair last Christmas, and I'm surprised there aren't holes in every pair, for all the wear they've had this year. So why I was surprised to find my non-shoppers so eager to run in and grab... socks... I don't know. I'm not even sure how they knew Gander Mtn. sells Smart Wools, to be honest. However, they got their socks, and then we journeyed onward.

We enjoyed a few hours of really nice conversation and general hanging out with friends, ditched the rest of the errands we'd hoped to run and made it home before bedtime. We'll have to run errands tomorrow, instead, but having the kids in bed before the adults needed to be turning in was, to my semi-introverted inner self, worth every minute it'll cost tomorrow. The partial paralysis to my emotional well-being from having Very Little Down Time this past week should begin to subside with a few nights' restorative work on the routine.

We saw snow flurries! They didn't last, and they didn't stick, but they felt downright magical floating down on us as we walked up the street. If they hadn't been accompanied by some kind of evil, transient Arctic wind, I'd have hijacked Zorak for a romantic walk in the moonlight. It's the thought that counts, though, right? Even if you're thinking it while you high-tail it for the nearest door? Very good.

I just checked the weather. No wonder the heater hasn't shut off yet! According to The Weather Channel, it's "27', feels like 17'." Um, yeah. That's pretty stinking cold. The low tonight is supposed to get down to 19'. I don't want to be up at that point to see what it feels like. So I'm going to crawl into bed and give thanks for the insulation in our walls, the blankets on our windows, and the propane in the tank. There's no way I can take those things for granted.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The Periodontist...

Or... Why I'm So Confused.

I met with the Periodontist yesterday. The one recommended by our current dentist's office. (Until further notice, I shall refer to the two dentists in that office as Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. I'm fairly certain neither one knows the other one exists.) I went braced for the Apocalyptic news I'd been prepared to hear. I struggled with presenting myself in a confident, capable manner without having to resort to Ernie's suggestion (which was, by the way, infinitely comforting, and made me smile a lot during the morning).

He made a chart, updated the information from the x-rays I had with me, and then probed my gums with the little measure-o-meter stick. The numbers sounded different than the numbers I'd been quoted at the awful visit I referenced in my last post. They sounded significantly different. There was one bad-bad number (a pocket of 7mm between the two front teeth - but back at the last visit, the hygienist had said she'd bottomed out her poker thing and never hit solid ground, so she marked it as an 11 on my chart), but everything else was mostly 2's, with a few 3's. Only two fours, and one five. Nothing like the 8's and up I'd been told before.

We talked about pregnancy hormones, and how these numbers will likely actually improve after the baby is born. He said even if they didn't, he doesn't see anything that warrants a surgical solution. He is a little worried about that spot between the two front teeth, and would like to wrap his mind around it. The teeth are healthy, and there's no gum recession. So why the deep pockets there? What caused this? (That is, also, incidentally, where there is identifiable bone loss on the x-rays.) He asked if I'd experienced any trauma to that region - car wreck, head bonk by a child, kick in the head, bar fight... anything? There hasn't been anything, so I don't know what could have caused it. I can only guess, but we know what that's worth. Miss Cleo, I'm not.

His recommendation: wait until April, then come in for a regular old cleaning and another probe. Let's see, then, but also take into account that nursing keeps your body in a pregnancy-like state, as far as hormones go, and a good portion of gum condition is directly tied to hormones. (OK, can I just interject here that it is SO refreshing to find a health care professional who has a clue how pregnancy affects the body? Truly, deeply refreshing.) If I experience any obvious changes, call him immediately and he'll see me to make sure nothing bad is going on in there. In the meantime, though, keep doing whatever I'm doing at home, and have a good pregnancy.

I'm... relieved. I'm... cautiously optimistic. Obviously, I'd like to believe what this man is saying. Nobody would opt for a full frontal flaying if it's not actually necessary. However, I just don't know who to trust or what to do, and a part of me (the pessimistic, Eyore-like part) is terrified to go with the best-case-scenario, for fear that I'll wake up one morning to find my mouth has exploded, I'm choking to death on abcesses, and my teeth are embedded in the ceiling and headboard. Lovely image, no? No. Yeah, I know.

*phew* I don't know. What would you do? I'm at an absolute loss, but at least for now, I think we're going to wait until April to make any further decisions. That will allow us to enjoy the holidays, get more done on the Forever Home, and enjoy welcoming BabyFive to the family. Tomorrow's worries can wait. (Or, they will explode while I sleep. Either way, I'm not going to sweat it for now. *grin*)

Thanks for listening!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Hey there!

We would not make a good on-the-go family. At least, not yet. Left the house this morning with everybody intact, nearly on time, and mostly fed. We hit the periodontist, Zorak's workplace, and then Sam's and Wal-mart. Picked up Zorak and came home... and wow, oh wow, are we one tired clan. I remember keeping busier schedules. I do. But... I've no idea *how* I kept them. So. Anyway, there ya go.

OK, I don't know how much of our dental saga y'all are familiar with. We've had a rough time finding competent dentists, and keeping our teeth healthy. The combination is enough to make Pol Pot cry, really. Today's visit was to a periodontist, presumably, based on my last visit with my dentist's office, to discuss bone grafts. And which five teeth I'll be able to keep. Obviously, this visit is not something I've been eagerly awaiting.

The visit was interesting and different. I'll fill y'all in on that tomorrow, when I've had some rest and put my hackles back down a bit. Nothing like trying to blog while you're still a bit prickly.

We blew a whole lot of cash at Sam's. I thought I'd been so good, too. But no. I bought a lot of crap. Not crap-crap, and nothing that made Zorak ban me from shopping there without a chaperone. (Although, truthfully, I probably need one.) Still, I could have been a bit more frugal. *sheepish grin* Fortunately, we won't need to go back for a while, so that's good.

We didn't blow much at Wal-Mart. That was also good. I'd like to say it was due to my superior culling skills, and excellent self-restraint. But no. It was due to the fact that EmBaby had been up and about since six-thirty, and by four that afternoon, she. was. done. Done being cute. Done being quiet. And done being complaint in any sense of the word. Honestly, if I had any idea when I might have transportation for groceries again, I'd have left. But sometimes you can't go with Option A. So, I encouraged the boys to just remember this and torment her with it when she's 24 and way-too-cool for something, and, for now, laugh their way through it. They obliged, and we survived. Long Live Flexibility!

Tomorrow is the Nutcracker. I forgot to buy shoes for James. Not sure how to work that one around, but we'll see how it goes. Even if he has to go barefooted, or if we have to re-think the outfits they'll wear, we'll go, and it will be a wonderful evening with my Fine Young Men. That's what counts. And truth be told, I am far more excited about it than I thought I'd be! Hopefully, we will have it together enough to get pictures.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Breathe in...

I'll breathe out later.

OK, so I'm just in a slightly foul mood, and I've got to work it out before Zorak comes home, because he probably isn't making the trek home, thinking, "Boy, I hope she's *really* irritable tonight. It's been such a nice week, and I'd just hate to keep things so bland."

Yeah. Heh. I know.

The periodontist's office called today. They have a cancellation and can take me tomorrow morning. This is good, as it means they can see me sooner (I'd originally been scheduled for January 8th). This is good, as it means we'll have a clear picture and less ambiguity on how to proceed. This is good...

Well, I can't really think of a reason this is good. But I couldn't think of a reason not to take the appointment, either, other than my disgust with the overal dental community, my frustration with the lack of straight answers, and the fact that I'm. Just. Tired. Of it. Yank 'em all and call it good. I'll share applesauce with EmBaby and double up on my multi-vitamins. I don't smile a big, toothy smile, anyway.

Perhaps, if I felt a bit more confident that anybody in the dental profession was shooting us straight, I'd be more enthusiastic about this visit. Or, if not "enthusiastic", at least not quite so Eyore-like. Yes. That's it. Here's hoping the periodontist is capable of communicating in a straightforward manner, whether the prognosis is heinous or uplifting. I don't care. I just want a health care professional who is going to be honest and upfront, from beginning to end. Capable of doing the work would also be a bonus, but I'm starting to feel that's asking too much.

Gah. Ok, ham and split pea soup is on. We've got bread. Gotta make some tea and mix up some juice, and then I think we're set. Perhaps this would be a good time to sort some laundry? I don't know. They day started out oddly, and just never improved. What are your tips for recalibrating on a day like that?

I know! I'll Kiss Those Babies! That always helps. :-)
~Dy

Not the Crocs!

Noooooooooooooooo!

I have some ugly shoes. I love my ugly shoes. They're so ugly, they're cute. Sort of like E.T. But, well, uglier. Still, I wear them, and love them. With a few exceptions, where they'd have been wholly and inexcusably inappropriate, they're all I've worn since I bought them. And now, I think they're trying to kill me.

For the last week or so, it's become increasingly painful to walk. Move. Sit. Stand. Lean. Breathe. I'm average-for-gestation in size, but because of the pain in my hip and tailbone, I walk like I'm eleven months along. With triplets. Probably elephants.

Both of my arms have taken to going pins-and-needles numb at random times, from the shoulders to the finger tips. Five or six times a day, this happens. Once I realized I was most likely not suffering from roaming gangs of blood clots, I figured I just needed to find a chiropractor and have a little adjustment.

Not that I've done that, mind you. It's all about identifying the problem. Solving it goes onto another list, entirely.

The boys tried to help yesterday. Their efforts made me smile, but they just don't have the body mass to fight this kind of inertia. Smidge almost fixed it, inadvertently, when he pounced on my back. I thought I would die. If he'd been just two inches farther down, and a little to the right, I think he'd have done it. But I couldn't stay relaxed enough for it to work when he did it again (he caught me off guard the first time - let's face it, if you know you've got a 50# cannonball careening toward your back, you won't be relaxed, either). That hurt. I took a Motrin and called it good. I also begged one of the boys to become a chiropractor, even if just for a hobby. I'll pay for it, and you can pay me back with adjustments. How can you beat a student loan deal like that, eh?

So last night, unable to so much as sit without contorting in pain, I put on my sexiest voice ("sexy", being relative, in this situation. Obviously.) and asked Zorak if he wanted to play Gumby and Pokey.

I'll be Gumby. You just start pulling on things until something pops into place.

He wrestled me into all sorts of hideous positions. Lots of popping. Just a little screaming. It helped. And I'm 5'8", now.

This morning, I awoke almost pain-free. yay! Until I put on my Crocs to go make coffee. I only made it out of the bedroom before the grinding sounds and the clicking pain kicked in. Crap. It's these shoes! I'll bet it's these shoes!

Well, my only defense for wearing them was that they're comfortable, and I think it's safe to say they've betrayed me on that level. So, it's probably time to ship them off to Valhalla of the Shoes, buy me some good orthopedics with arch support, and maybe find a good chiropractor. Yep. But man, I'll miss those shoes!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy