The weekend flew by with an unbelievably busy schedule, but it was so thoroughly enjoyable. We had company, company, and more company. Ate a lot of food, shot a lot of rounds, and shared a lot of laughs. Can't ask for much more than that.
Thanks to the rain, baseball was canceled both Friday and Saturday, which gave me not only a bit of a reprieve, but a false sense of security, as well. Then it didn't rain yesterday, and we paid for it, today, with three different doctor's appointments, two baseball practices, and Cub Scouts. (Really must remember to take the pocket calendar with me into town, and never do that, again.)
On the upside, I did manage to get the crockpot cranking before we left. Yes, I'm now 2-for-70 on that, and Rockin' the Domesticity. (It wouldn't be nearly as exciting if I pulled it off all the time, now, would it?)
We're getting settled in with the new doctor for the kids. I really like him. The kids seem to like him. And, joy of joys, he hasn't pulled the Voice of God act on us, when it comes to some of our less-than-mainstream lifestyle choices. If I had any ability, at all, I'd sing, or burst into dance. But, like I said, I really like him, so I'll refrain and just smile and nod a lot.
Me-Wa found a chiropractor he trusts, and recommended him to us. I went first, to check him out. (Nothing says "Mommy loves you" quite like taking point, right?) I like his method and philosophy quite a bit. Now, after going for almost three weeks, I also like being able to hold my children without my legs going dead numb on me. Haven't been able to do that for the last three babies. This is the first time in over six years, too, that I haven't had constant lower back pain. Wow. John's been seeing him for a week, now, for a few issues. Mainly, he's been having headaches, which the adjustments have nearly eradicated. This is *huge*, and makes a big difference in John's overall outlook on things. It'll also, hopefully, make it easier to pin down the other concerns. Good stuff.
And really, although that doesn't sound like much, it's all I've got, for now. I promised myself I would make a few changes this month: drink more water (still trying to figure out how to do that without giving up the coffee -- I've been tempted to take up drinking soda so I could have something to switch out for the water and still feel like I'm making progress, but that plan, appealing as it is, didn't pass scrutiny); get more rest (this is more an ongoing pursuit than a tangible goal, I get that); live more intentionally (this has been a habit for a while, but sometimes it's good to get back to the basics); and... I've forgotten the rest. Oh! Yes. Be on time more often (yeah). So, with that in mind, I'm going to turn in before it is midnight. It's still close enough to the time change, that my body thinks it's eleven, and I'm hoping to kind of feint a punt and knock it out of the ball park, then come in under par.
Perhaps in April, I'll spend a little time working on my sports metaphors. Until then, Kiss Those Babies!
~Dy
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 16
Thursday, February 25
Blame it on Lent
Well, maybe not. I'm not sure how God is with the whole Striking With Lightning bit these days.
However, I did decide to stop vying for time *alone* in the evenings. Something had to give, but what? Reading time with the boys? No. We're not giving that up, and we can't really shorten it. (They keep adding to the stack, anyway. I'll be reading to them from my death bed if I shorten our nighttime reading.) Time spent tidying the kitchen? No, that one is a sanity-saver come sun up. Time with Zorak, alone, together, speaking in full sentences? Somehow, I don't think sacrificing that is the best thing in the world for a marriage. And I like Zorak. I want to keep him, always.
The only thing left was my late night foray to stay up and blog. It wasn't working, anyway. The Bigs' read-aloud time lasts longer than the Littles' does, so Zorak gets done first and beats me to the computer. (My grand plan to hook up the old computer in the basement fell tragically short because I can't get it to connect to the internet. I seem to have misplaced... the modem. Yeah, not sure how that happened.) Zorak and I are both night owls, so in order to get time alone and on the computer, I'd have to stay up until well past two in the morning. Even then, there was no guarantee. After falling asleep on the couch several nights in a row, waiting for the computer, I realized I was being silly. Very Silly, Indeed. *sigh* That's always embarrassing.
Lent just happened to be an excellent opportunity to quit being Silly. So far, I've been a'bed by eleven six nights out of seven. The extra rest helps. I'm more productive in the morning, able to spend time in study more often. I'm a much nicer mother before noon, too. But boy, does it make for a dull blog. And no photo editing time, either. I'm not sure why I feel pressure to include photos with blog entries, anyway. (Yet I do! Just a peek into my weirdness, I guess.)
So here's a quick recap of the last week or so:
~ We fed a stray. Turns out my Mother was right. They do stay if you do that.
~ Jase is LOUD. I mean, unbelievably LOUD. ALWAYS.
~ Baseball kicks off today. (*whimper*) It will be in the low-low 30's at practice tonight. One kid has practice, another, a meeting.
~ James is anxious (both excited-anxious and fretting-anxious) about taking golf lessons this Spring. No clue what's up with that.
~ The Pinewood Derby is this Saturday. The boys have done amazing things this year. It's not unusual to go to the basement and see a boy with a torch, melting weights, or a boy with a drill press, making holes. They may not win, but they will have learned a great deal, and had a lot of fun, and that is, for us, the point.
~ Netflix really needs to get Season 4 of Big Love on DVD. Seriously. This is important.
~ EmBaby knows where to find, and how to use, the shut-off valve on the toilet! I don't think I've ever been so proud of the sense and composure of a four-year-old in my life.
~ We've had company every Saturday for the last month. As of Monday, the boys have officially petitioned that we re-define "Company Clean". They say this pace is killing them, and that someone will figure out The Truth, eventually, so why not just use that to help weed out the weak ones. (Yes, I'm both proud and horrified at the same time. Parenthood will do that.)
And, I think that's it.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
However, I did decide to stop vying for time *alone* in the evenings. Something had to give, but what? Reading time with the boys? No. We're not giving that up, and we can't really shorten it. (They keep adding to the stack, anyway. I'll be reading to them from my death bed if I shorten our nighttime reading.) Time spent tidying the kitchen? No, that one is a sanity-saver come sun up. Time with Zorak, alone, together, speaking in full sentences? Somehow, I don't think sacrificing that is the best thing in the world for a marriage. And I like Zorak. I want to keep him, always.
The only thing left was my late night foray to stay up and blog. It wasn't working, anyway. The Bigs' read-aloud time lasts longer than the Littles' does, so Zorak gets done first and beats me to the computer. (My grand plan to hook up the old computer in the basement fell tragically short because I can't get it to connect to the internet. I seem to have misplaced... the modem. Yeah, not sure how that happened.) Zorak and I are both night owls, so in order to get time alone and on the computer, I'd have to stay up until well past two in the morning. Even then, there was no guarantee. After falling asleep on the couch several nights in a row, waiting for the computer, I realized I was being silly. Very Silly, Indeed. *sigh* That's always embarrassing.
Lent just happened to be an excellent opportunity to quit being Silly. So far, I've been a'bed by eleven six nights out of seven. The extra rest helps. I'm more productive in the morning, able to spend time in study more often. I'm a much nicer mother before noon, too. But boy, does it make for a dull blog. And no photo editing time, either. I'm not sure why I feel pressure to include photos with blog entries, anyway. (Yet I do! Just a peek into my weirdness, I guess.)
So here's a quick recap of the last week or so:
~ We fed a stray. Turns out my Mother was right. They do stay if you do that.
~ Jase is LOUD. I mean, unbelievably LOUD. ALWAYS.
~ Baseball kicks off today. (*whimper*) It will be in the low-low 30's at practice tonight. One kid has practice, another, a meeting.
~ James is anxious (both excited-anxious and fretting-anxious) about taking golf lessons this Spring. No clue what's up with that.
~ The Pinewood Derby is this Saturday. The boys have done amazing things this year. It's not unusual to go to the basement and see a boy with a torch, melting weights, or a boy with a drill press, making holes. They may not win, but they will have learned a great deal, and had a lot of fun, and that is, for us, the point.
~ Netflix really needs to get Season 4 of Big Love on DVD. Seriously. This is important.
~ EmBaby knows where to find, and how to use, the shut-off valve on the toilet! I don't think I've ever been so proud of the sense and composure of a four-year-old in my life.
~ We've had company every Saturday for the last month. As of Monday, the boys have officially petitioned that we re-define "Company Clean". They say this pace is killing them, and that someone will figure out The Truth, eventually, so why not just use that to help weed out the weak ones. (Yes, I'm both proud and horrified at the same time. Parenthood will do that.)
And, I think that's it.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Thursday, February 4
New...Theme?
I was JOKING about the theme for this year being a better filing system! I didn't WANT a new theme! I was happy with,
God, however, being the God of life... and humor... had another plan. His plan is that we WILL learn exceptional time management and resource allocation skills. Or die in the attempt.
You see, so far, this year, we've only had one Really Busy day each week: Wednesday. That's our grocery, car wash, stray errand, music lesson, Bible study day. It starts at noon, for Pete's sake! It's not like we're good at this.
But, starting tomorrow, when we sign away the next four months of our lives, it's all going to be a nightmarish jumble of Things We Do For Our Children (or, more aptly called, Crap We Couldn't Talk Our Way Out of, Although Don't Think We Didn't Try).
John wants to play ball again this year. He'll be in kid pitch.
Smidge then decided that yes, he'd definitely like to play (since John is playing). All attempts to remind him that he wasn't all that fond of baseball last year fell on deaf ears. "I'll like it this year."
And, of course, EmBaby's been counting on playing the split second she turned four. Some of you recall her attempts last year to convince us she was "three AND four", just so she could play last Spring.
Our weeks are now shaping up a bit frighteningly:
Monday - baseball, and Cub Scouts
Tuesday - baseball, and Boy Scouts
Wednesday - grocery, car wash, stray errand, music lessons, Bible study, and Baseball
Thursday - baseball
Friday - baseball
Saturday - all baseball, all flippin day -- heaven help us on the weekends Zorak is away at Scouting Stuff with James! (I cannot physically be in three places at once, and I guarantee we'll never have three games at the same field on the same day.)
Sunday - restock the cooler and the Shout stash, and try not to sleep through church
If I don't blog until June, it's because I'm drinking beneath the bleachers. Send burritos.
And, as always-always-always, Kiss Those Babies!
~Dy
"Oh, hey, look, it's 2010... how'd that happen?"That was a perfectly acceptable theme, to my way of thinking.
God, however, being the God of life... and humor... had another plan. His plan is that we WILL learn exceptional time management and resource allocation skills. Or die in the attempt.
You see, so far, this year, we've only had one Really Busy day each week: Wednesday. That's our grocery, car wash, stray errand, music lesson, Bible study day. It starts at noon, for Pete's sake! It's not like we're good at this.
But, starting tomorrow, when we sign away the next four months of our lives, it's all going to be a nightmarish jumble of Things We Do For Our Children (or, more aptly called, Crap We Couldn't Talk Our Way Out of, Although Don't Think We Didn't Try).
John wants to play ball again this year. He'll be in kid pitch.
Smidge then decided that yes, he'd definitely like to play (since John is playing). All attempts to remind him that he wasn't all that fond of baseball last year fell on deaf ears. "I'll like it this year."
And, of course, EmBaby's been counting on playing the split second she turned four. Some of you recall her attempts last year to convince us she was "three AND four", just so she could play last Spring.
Our weeks are now shaping up a bit frighteningly:
Monday - baseball, and Cub Scouts
Tuesday - baseball, and Boy Scouts
Wednesday - grocery, car wash, stray errand, music lessons, Bible study, and Baseball
Thursday - baseball
Friday - baseball
Saturday - all baseball, all flippin day -- heaven help us on the weekends Zorak is away at Scouting Stuff with James! (I cannot physically be in three places at once, and I guarantee we'll never have three games at the same field on the same day.)
Sunday - restock the cooler and the Shout stash, and try not to sleep through church
If I don't blog until June, it's because I'm drinking beneath the bleachers. Send burritos.
And, as always-always-always, Kiss Those Babies!
~Dy
Tuesday, January 19
A Celebratory Weekend
Zorak woke me Saturday morning with a kiss, saying, "You get your birthday present a day early." I felt bad pointing out that my birthday is in July, not January. I also worried a bit, considering he's known this for 14 years, and he's had the actual date down pat for about eight years, now. But, no. No worries. He had the right date, and the right girl. He also had a beautiful sentiment...
He gave me a gift, to commemorate Emily's birth. A token of the work I'd done that day, and a loving Thank You for everything I do, every day, year in and year out. Talk about humbling! (And here, I was wondering if perhaps he needed a Palm Pilot to keep track of dates! Sheesh, what a dork.) That's it, up there: a pasta maker! I love it!
We spent the day, making pasta, trying new things, laughing, eating the mistakes. It really was the perfect way to honor our family, and all we share.
The boys were helpful and interested, and we all learned a lot. (Let the smoke right out of the pasta bottle, so to speak. That was cool!)
But I think they got a whiff of the whole meat grinder introduction (do you know how long it takes to grind 30 pounds of sausage by hand? *grin*), and while they hung in there and tolerated my weirdness, after a couple hours they dispersed to go do more varying things, like playing with Legos and cleaning the bathroom. EmBaby hung in there, though, cracking jokes, asking questions.
I introduced her to my favorite pasta obsession: CHEESE! Cheese IN the pasta! (Confession, I could eat my weight in cheese ravioli, cheese manicotti, and cheese-based-cheese lasagna. But I never buy it at the store, and I don't order it at restaurants because, either way, it would cost $90 to feed me on that stuff. But now??? Whoooeeeee! Yeah, baby! We're eating right!)
Em is a master crimper. She's awesome. And she's tough. She never left the counter to follow the siren song of Other Things. What a trooper, huh?
"I did it! Can we have pasta on my birthday, Mom?"
Yes, Baby, yes we can. With cheese.
I hope to earn that appreciation, day in and day out, from both him and the children. I know it sounds hokey, particularly coming from me, the Queen of "Suck it up and do yer job, already," but I am honored to be their mother, and his wife, and to have brought these children into this world. There's not another job in this world that would be worth it, to me.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
He gave me a gift, to commemorate Emily's birth. A token of the work I'd done that day, and a loving Thank You for everything I do, every day, year in and year out. Talk about humbling! (And here, I was wondering if perhaps he needed a Palm Pilot to keep track of dates! Sheesh, what a dork.) That's it, up there: a pasta maker! I love it!
We spent the day, making pasta, trying new things, laughing, eating the mistakes. It really was the perfect way to honor our family, and all we share.
The boys were helpful and interested, and we all learned a lot. (Let the smoke right out of the pasta bottle, so to speak. That was cool!)
But I think they got a whiff of the whole meat grinder introduction (do you know how long it takes to grind 30 pounds of sausage by hand? *grin*), and while they hung in there and tolerated my weirdness, after a couple hours they dispersed to go do more varying things, like playing with Legos and cleaning the bathroom. EmBaby hung in there, though, cracking jokes, asking questions.
I introduced her to my favorite pasta obsession: CHEESE! Cheese IN the pasta! (Confession, I could eat my weight in cheese ravioli, cheese manicotti, and cheese-based-cheese lasagna. But I never buy it at the store, and I don't order it at restaurants because, either way, it would cost $90 to feed me on that stuff. But now??? Whoooeeeee! Yeah, baby! We're eating right!)
Em is a master crimper. She's awesome. And she's tough. She never left the counter to follow the siren song of Other Things. What a trooper, huh?
"I did it! Can we have pasta on my birthday, Mom?"
Yes, Baby, yes we can. With cheese.
I hope to earn that appreciation, day in and day out, from both him and the children. I know it sounds hokey, particularly coming from me, the Queen of "Suck it up and do yer job, already," but I am honored to be their mother, and his wife, and to have brought these children into this world. There's not another job in this world that would be worth it, to me.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Tuesday, December 29
Buddy: Felted Jackal, Family Dog
This is Buddy. He's new here.
He's a Yellow Lab/Heeler mix. Probably some other things in there, too, like hyena or jackal. Not entirely sure. But he's got a good temperament and seems to be well aware that this is his crew. Mutts are good like that, in our experience.
Santa brought him for all the kids,
But... mainly, for John, who has felt most severely that puppy-shaped hole in this home, and in his heart since we lost Balto. You can see the look on his face, here.
He could not believe his eyes when Buddy came snuffling through the foyer...
He could hardly speak for a few minutes afterword. I think we nailed it.
And so, A Boy and His Dog begin a beautiful friendship.
They picked his name well. Buddy.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
He's a Yellow Lab/Heeler mix. Probably some other things in there, too, like hyena or jackal. Not entirely sure. But he's got a good temperament and seems to be well aware that this is his crew. Mutts are good like that, in our experience.
Santa brought him for all the kids,
But... mainly, for John, who has felt most severely that puppy-shaped hole in this home, and in his heart since we lost Balto. You can see the look on his face, here.
He could not believe his eyes when Buddy came snuffling through the foyer...
He could hardly speak for a few minutes afterword. I think we nailed it.
And so, A Boy and His Dog begin a beautiful friendship.
They picked his name well. Buddy.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Saturday, November 14
I love this time of year.
Fall keeps me sane. There's just no other way to put it. The nights are cool enough to need comforting blankets. The days are nice enough to wallow in the out-of-doors. It's like emerging from a horrible, damp, hot blanket after Summer. Like storing up on sunshine for the grey, wet, cold winter months. (And yes, it does seem to be a water-related issue. I grew up where water, if there was any, was 500 feet under ground, and you had to really want it to find it. Here, it's everywhere. It's wonderful, in the ground. In the air, eh, we're still adjusting.)
Zorak and James are camping tonight. James' first campout with his new Troop. He's elated. Zorak seems to be hanging in there fairly well. It's hard to put your child out there, in a group with such a huge age gap (he's 11, and the other boys are ALL 15-17). Even when they're great kids (and these boys are - they're awesome), it's stil... there's a lot of room for... yeah. It's just a little on the tingly-knee side for Zorak, I think. They'll both be fine. Probably be pretty cold by about 2AM. But in general? In the grand scheme of things? I think they're going to have a blast and do just fine. Both of them. (Still, watching your children venture out on new highwires, over faster rivers, deeper ravines, bigger life... I'm glad we have each other to hold onto.)
John, who wanted with every fiber of his being to GO, to Be There, to CampOut, was so good about it. He didn't whine or mope. He was great about helping James get his stuff rounded up. Enthusiastic about the dry run on the tent (on the balcony - I love that - no leaves or dirt to contend with when you're done). And they had a very heartwarming-moment-turned-squirrelly-grab-ass bit of sibling familiarity as James headed out the door. (Boys are so weird about that, sometimes.)
But you could tell he really wanted to be going, too. So, we decided to have a fun Alternate Weekend, here:
~ Movies John wants to see that James would rather not. (And, of course, a Princess movie for EmBaby, and a not-a-princess-movie for Jake. It was an all-inclusive movie rental trip.)
~ Dinner at the coffee table.
~ Bedtime Story, all of us piled on the couch, instead of everybody in their beds.
~ Fresh cinnamon rolls tomorrow, watching the sun rise and the thermometer creep up. We may toast the warmth with hot chocolate. ;-)
~ Time together, just the five of us, hanging out and doing things a little differently.
I kind of like the change in routine, and the break. (And I'm really thankful I didn't have to go.) But I do remember wanting so badly to go somewhere that I couldn't. Sure, learning to be OK with that comes with maturity, and with time. But sometimes, it's nice to know somebody understands and remembers what it was like to go back inside after the truck pulled away. And sometimes, it's nice to have someone help you learn that it's not so bad to be left out of one thing, when there are other things awaiting you just around the corner. Plus, it may be the start of a nice new tradition. After all, in nine years, it'll be Jason looking longingly as his siblings file out the door, one after another, and the house he goes back into will be quieter, lonelier, and a bit different than it is now. It'll be good to know that some good things stay the same.
Like Autumn leaves. And great weather. And people who love you.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sunday, November 1
Holy Mackerel!
Just when we thought we had it all under control, we got hit with the gentle (*snort*) reminder that we're not really at the helm. Sometimes I feel that if life came with an instruction manual, the "Quick Start User's Guide" would look something like this:
1. Kiss those babies
2. Say your prayers
3. Hold on tight
Obviously, there's more to it than that, but that's what it takes to get started, isn't it? And sometimes, to keep going.
We've got to back up a bit. Let's see, I got sick Sunday (the 18th). Thought it was nothing big. Nothing a little rest and some cranberry and water couldn't fix. Stayed home from church to pound the liquids. (Didn't help.)
Monday (the 19th), I thought I had cramps (sorry - no cute or euphemistic way to put it), and we learned we have what Melissa calls, "A Runner". Yep, we now have one that, given the chance, will bolt swiftly and silently, leaving the whole ball of wax for one glorious shot at freedom. Thankfully, he is safe and came to no harm. My knees still hurt just thinking of it. However, he is now on a lock-down the likes of which no child in this house has ever seen. He will probably never be allowed to watch Blade Runner, or Logan's Run until he moves out, or can explain where he's going. And we spent a harrowing week, holding our breath, keeping the house Company Clean, in fear of a visit from The Authorities. Adrenaline does wonders for pain relief, by the way.
Tuesday (the 20th), I realized I wasn't fighting a mild UTI and cramps, and started to worry that this was, perhaps, appendicitis. That's a scary thought. (It was a scary pain.) Nothing touched it - not asprin, not hot baths, not the gazillion gallons of water and cranberry I imbibed, not the hot pad, not massage; not walking, not laying, nor rocking nor crying. At that point, with the severity of the pain and the lack of relief, we called the nurse line and she recommended I be seen "within six hours". Blink Off to the ER, where I was diagnosed with, but not treated for, a rather severe kidney infection, and blood, most likely caused by a blockage. We're voting for "stone sludge", as whatever it was, it passed during the five-hour wait in the ER. Yes, FIVE HOURS. And yes, they had a sample. Oh. My. Word.
It seems that the confirmed presence of a raging infection (the lab was quick), a "9" on the pain scale (figure there's always room for it to hurt worse, right?), chills and swelling just don't cut the triage scale if you have somehow managed not to spike a fever. The poor Triage Nurse took my temperature every way she could think of, but there was no fever. No fever, no check mark. No check mark, no spot at the front of the line. She was very apologetic about it, and begged me to stay, because, obviously, there was something Very Wrong. But still, back to the lobby.
What's with that, anyway? Nevermind. I am currently trying not to think of the myriad reasons I had no fever. Just. Not. ThinkingAboutIt. If I'd known, however, that they would not give me antibiotics at the end of that wait, to be honest, I'd have gone home to writhe in the comfort of my own floor while waiting for the urologist's office to open. Away from the lady who likes to hang out in the ER, being obnoxious to other patients; away from the guy who came in for a cough; away from the three other guys who came in to hang out, catch a nap, and then move on. As it was, we got home a little after 7AM Wednesday morning, mildly re-hydrated and just a little bit stoned on pain killers.
Wednesday was supposed to be our Preparation Day. The day we washed the car, did the groceries, made up the guest room, finished the basement work, took the kids to music and did all the things one normally does on a Wednesday. Or something like that. Obviously, that's not how it went down. I'll fill you in on that, tomorrow. It just hasn't slowed down in the least.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
1. Kiss those babies
2. Say your prayers
3. Hold on tight
Obviously, there's more to it than that, but that's what it takes to get started, isn't it? And sometimes, to keep going.
We've got to back up a bit. Let's see, I got sick Sunday (the 18th). Thought it was nothing big. Nothing a little rest and some cranberry and water couldn't fix. Stayed home from church to pound the liquids. (Didn't help.)
Monday (the 19th), I thought I had cramps (sorry - no cute or euphemistic way to put it), and we learned we have what Melissa calls, "A Runner". Yep, we now have one that, given the chance, will bolt swiftly and silently, leaving the whole ball of wax for one glorious shot at freedom. Thankfully, he is safe and came to no harm. My knees still hurt just thinking of it. However, he is now on a lock-down the likes of which no child in this house has ever seen. He will probably never be allowed to watch Blade Runner, or Logan's Run until he moves out, or can explain where he's going. And we spent a harrowing week, holding our breath, keeping the house Company Clean, in fear of a visit from The Authorities. Adrenaline does wonders for pain relief, by the way.
Tuesday (the 20th), I realized I wasn't fighting a mild UTI and cramps, and started to worry that this was, perhaps, appendicitis. That's a scary thought. (It was a scary pain.) Nothing touched it - not asprin, not hot baths, not the gazillion gallons of water and cranberry I imbibed, not the hot pad, not massage; not walking, not laying, nor rocking nor crying. At that point, with the severity of the pain and the lack of relief, we called the nurse line and she recommended I be seen "within six hours". Blink Off to the ER, where I was diagnosed with, but not treated for, a rather severe kidney infection, and blood, most likely caused by a blockage. We're voting for "stone sludge", as whatever it was, it passed during the five-hour wait in the ER. Yes, FIVE HOURS. And yes, they had a sample. Oh. My. Word.
It seems that the confirmed presence of a raging infection (the lab was quick), a "9" on the pain scale (figure there's always room for it to hurt worse, right?), chills and swelling just don't cut the triage scale if you have somehow managed not to spike a fever. The poor Triage Nurse took my temperature every way she could think of, but there was no fever. No fever, no check mark. No check mark, no spot at the front of the line. She was very apologetic about it, and begged me to stay, because, obviously, there was something Very Wrong. But still, back to the lobby.
What's with that, anyway? Nevermind. I am currently trying not to think of the myriad reasons I had no fever. Just. Not. ThinkingAboutIt. If I'd known, however, that they would not give me antibiotics at the end of that wait, to be honest, I'd have gone home to writhe in the comfort of my own floor while waiting for the urologist's office to open. Away from the lady who likes to hang out in the ER, being obnoxious to other patients; away from the guy who came in for a cough; away from the three other guys who came in to hang out, catch a nap, and then move on. As it was, we got home a little after 7AM Wednesday morning, mildly re-hydrated and just a little bit stoned on pain killers.
Wednesday was supposed to be our Preparation Day. The day we washed the car, did the groceries, made up the guest room, finished the basement work, took the kids to music and did all the things one normally does on a Wednesday. Or something like that. Obviously, that's not how it went down. I'll fill you in on that, tomorrow. It just hasn't slowed down in the least.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Thursday, October 1
Virtual Friday
Tomorrow, Zorak is off for the day, and so are we. Well, from school. There's still work to be done, wood to be hauled, equipment to be moved. But, in theory, we're off for the day. Which means today we must bust a hump and really make some progress.
It's been a slow week. It's been one of those weeks where you look at the children making origami (drawing pictures, having swordfights) and you think, "I'm pretty sure the math we JUST went over isn't done yet."
No sooner have you made the rounds, getting everybody back on task, only to return to your original spot to find the beginnings of a paper crane...
a stunningly complex rendition of Harry Potter Meets Captain Nemo...
and clue in to what's happening, just in time to duck a particularly wild sword thrust.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Feed them. Get back to the repeating part.
Collapse into a heap around ten PM, with a glass of wine and a pile of peanut butter cups. Watch as many episodes of Chuck as you can before your spouse starts making snarky comments about how he could be an inept spy, too, if it would help.
The down side is that you get to get up and do it all. over. again.
The up side is that you DO get to get up and do it all over again.
Today, I'm taking the sword to the crane for "history". But I think we may just call the drawings "art". I'm out of wine.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
It's been a slow week. It's been one of those weeks where you look at the children making origami (drawing pictures, having swordfights) and you think, "I'm pretty sure the math we JUST went over isn't done yet."
No sooner have you made the rounds, getting everybody back on task, only to return to your original spot to find the beginnings of a paper crane...
a stunningly complex rendition of Harry Potter Meets Captain Nemo...
and clue in to what's happening, just in time to duck a particularly wild sword thrust.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Feed them. Get back to the repeating part.
Collapse into a heap around ten PM, with a glass of wine and a pile of peanut butter cups. Watch as many episodes of Chuck as you can before your spouse starts making snarky comments about how he could be an inept spy, too, if it would help.
The down side is that you get to get up and do it all. over. again.
The up side is that you DO get to get up and do it all over again.
Today, I'm taking the sword to the crane for "history". But I think we may just call the drawings "art". I'm out of wine.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Monday, August 17
Native Tongue
Mom! Mom! Get the foot cream for the chemo pie!
EmBaby's still somewhat fluent in her first language. The one none of us quite remembers.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sunday, August 2
And So The Week Ends
Between the Scout-Fiasco thing, the Recovering-From-Travel thing, the Various-and-Sundry-Forever-Home projects, and our return to school, this week flew right by. It seems fitting to touch base on how quickly time always flies by, regardless of our activities or pursuits, and how we hope those pursuits serve us well in the end. In the blink of an eye.
Tonight, my baby, the one who cried and cried during the "Heavy and Light" song from Elmopalooza -- because he worried so very much about poor Elmo -- watched Tremors, and Tremors 2: Aftershocks. He laughed at the funny parts. He appreciated the suspenseful parts. He fell in love with the characters and spent the rest of the day coming up with ideas for Tremors 5 - 10. He dissected the features that go into creating the mood of a movie, compared and contrasted Jurassic Park to Tremors, and then begged us to let him watch The Thing. He'll still happily watch Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang and sing through the great songs and dance with his little siblings.
I'm struck by a few things. First, and foremost, Where Did My BABY Go? But later, when I'm done with my panicky fit, I also think, "Wow. Who is this well-adjusted, insightful, witty, intelligent young man?" Did we have anything to do with that? Or is he turning out this way in spite of us? And, "I'm so glad he's ours." Suddenly, that unfortunate incident with the bug net last month slips easily into perspective. The Big Picture is nice, and we are glad.
Obviously, when we see something good emerge, we hope to God it's us. When we cringe and think they'll never be able to live on their own, we look for some faulty ancestor on the other parent's side to blame it on. But the truth probably lies somewhere in the middle, and that's probably good. Heaven knows I don't want my Mom's Mom's Dad's Sister's issues to crop up, here. But if they do, we'll do our best to cushion the blow. On the other hand, if Zorak's Mom's Dad's brilliant mind happens to seep into the genetic blend, SCORE! And then, we'll do our best to prepare them to use it wisely and well.
No matter the situation, no matter the child, loving parents strive to do the best they can for the children in their care. That "best" will look different in every household, no matter how many windows you peek through. (Before you get arrested, that is. So, just take my word for it and don't do that, 'k?)
Tonight, we stocked up on movie choices for the Littles to watch in another room (no sense in scarring everybody all at once), and sat, watching our eldest child enter a new stage in his life. It was a very small thing, compared with the news of the day around the world, but in our world, it was a very big thing. And an important thing, that bodes well for so many tomorrows.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Tonight, my baby, the one who cried and cried during the "Heavy and Light" song from Elmopalooza -- because he worried so very much about poor Elmo -- watched Tremors, and Tremors 2: Aftershocks. He laughed at the funny parts. He appreciated the suspenseful parts. He fell in love with the characters and spent the rest of the day coming up with ideas for Tremors 5 - 10. He dissected the features that go into creating the mood of a movie, compared and contrasted Jurassic Park to Tremors, and then begged us to let him watch The Thing. He'll still happily watch Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang and sing through the great songs and dance with his little siblings.
I'm struck by a few things. First, and foremost, Where Did My BABY Go? But later, when I'm done with my panicky fit, I also think, "Wow. Who is this well-adjusted, insightful, witty, intelligent young man?" Did we have anything to do with that? Or is he turning out this way in spite of us? And, "I'm so glad he's ours." Suddenly, that unfortunate incident with the bug net last month slips easily into perspective. The Big Picture is nice, and we are glad.
Obviously, when we see something good emerge, we hope to God it's us. When we cringe and think they'll never be able to live on their own, we look for some faulty ancestor on the other parent's side to blame it on. But the truth probably lies somewhere in the middle, and that's probably good. Heaven knows I don't want my Mom's Mom's Dad's Sister's issues to crop up, here. But if they do, we'll do our best to cushion the blow. On the other hand, if Zorak's Mom's Dad's brilliant mind happens to seep into the genetic blend, SCORE! And then, we'll do our best to prepare them to use it wisely and well.
No matter the situation, no matter the child, loving parents strive to do the best they can for the children in their care. That "best" will look different in every household, no matter how many windows you peek through. (Before you get arrested, that is. So, just take my word for it and don't do that, 'k?)
Tonight, we stocked up on movie choices for the Littles to watch in another room (no sense in scarring everybody all at once), and sat, watching our eldest child enter a new stage in his life. It was a very small thing, compared with the news of the day around the world, but in our world, it was a very big thing. And an important thing, that bodes well for so many tomorrows.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Friday, July 31
On Making Improvements
I've been pretty quiet about our Cub Scouting experience thus far. I blogged about it once, but since have tried to focus on the positive. Instead, we've made a few adjustments to How We Do Things.
For instance, we have a standing agreement that when Zorak's out of town, I don't have to take the kids, mostly because it's just too much wrangling in that particular environment, but also because Zorak knows I'd end up with a police record after going berserk on the parents and leaders for the ridiculous behavior they allow. When he takes the boys to an outing, the entire drive there is spent prepping the boys to be aware of danger, look out for one another, and think-think-think before deciding somebody's suggestion is, in any way, a Good Idea. The list is a long one, but that pretty well sums up the overall gist of it.
This last campout was... horrific? Appalling? Still looking for words. Some of you have been gracious enough to listen to my tirade over the phone. From the poor communication, the coma-inducing menu, and the flipped tents, to the vandalized cabins and data test sites, bad attitudes (don't glare at me like I'm stupid when I tell you to do something your Den Leader has just asked you three or four times to do), rock fights, sugar napalm traps, and beyond, you've listened to me rail against the Stupidity. I thank you. My children thank you. And, since you've been kind enough to listen and empathize, you've been my pressure release valve, permitting me to think up *constructive* suggestions to pass on to the Leadership.
As fortune would have it, the new Pack Leader (who is also John's Den leader) emailed after the campout and asked for honest input. He's seeing too many families leave and not come back. He knows there's a problem, but he's new in this position and doesn't quite know how to pinpoint it. Or fix it. I was going to fill him in, anyway, on why it would be a Cold Day In Hell before we camped with them again, so I'm glad he asked! (Unfortunately, James' Den leader emailed that same day to say it was "the best campout yet", so I'm thinking he does not use the same dictionary we do.)
We've been busy this week. We've tried to identify where we can pitch in effectively. (All of us parents - or, at least the ones who recognize there's a problem - have been trying to pitch in from the beginning, since we "get" that these kinds of organizations are dependent upon parent volunteers, but it's tricky to get certain leaders to relinquish any role whatsoever. Even if it's one they never get around to doing. When you offer to take on that part, they tell you it's covered. This is an endemic problem, and not the biggest one.)
We've tried to encourage the new Pack Leader this week (you could. not. pay. me. to try to do what he's doing). And we've tried not to let our cynicism overtake our desire to do what we believe is right. It is SO easy to want to decide to just leave the little Fly Lords to their island and find ourselves another, less aggravating island. Maybe one with cannibals, or vampires, or perhaps necrotizing fasciitis.
Gah. The things we do for our children, huh?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
For instance, we have a standing agreement that when Zorak's out of town, I don't have to take the kids, mostly because it's just too much wrangling in that particular environment, but also because Zorak knows I'd end up with a police record after going berserk on the parents and leaders for the ridiculous behavior they allow. When he takes the boys to an outing, the entire drive there is spent prepping the boys to be aware of danger, look out for one another, and think-think-think before deciding somebody's suggestion is, in any way, a Good Idea. The list is a long one, but that pretty well sums up the overall gist of it.
This last campout was... horrific? Appalling? Still looking for words. Some of you have been gracious enough to listen to my tirade over the phone. From the poor communication, the coma-inducing menu, and the flipped tents, to the vandalized cabins and data test sites, bad attitudes (don't glare at me like I'm stupid when I tell you to do something your Den Leader has just asked you three or four times to do), rock fights, sugar napalm traps, and beyond, you've listened to me rail against the Stupidity. I thank you. My children thank you. And, since you've been kind enough to listen and empathize, you've been my pressure release valve, permitting me to think up *constructive* suggestions to pass on to the Leadership.
As fortune would have it, the new Pack Leader (who is also John's Den leader) emailed after the campout and asked for honest input. He's seeing too many families leave and not come back. He knows there's a problem, but he's new in this position and doesn't quite know how to pinpoint it. Or fix it. I was going to fill him in, anyway, on why it would be a Cold Day In Hell before we camped with them again, so I'm glad he asked! (Unfortunately, James' Den leader emailed that same day to say it was "the best campout yet", so I'm thinking he does not use the same dictionary we do.)
We've been busy this week. We've tried to identify where we can pitch in effectively. (All of us parents - or, at least the ones who recognize there's a problem - have been trying to pitch in from the beginning, since we "get" that these kinds of organizations are dependent upon parent volunteers, but it's tricky to get certain leaders to relinquish any role whatsoever. Even if it's one they never get around to doing. When you offer to take on that part, they tell you it's covered. This is an endemic problem, and not the biggest one.)
We've tried to encourage the new Pack Leader this week (you could. not. pay. me. to try to do what he's doing). And we've tried not to let our cynicism overtake our desire to do what we believe is right. It is SO easy to want to decide to just leave the little Fly Lords to their island and find ourselves another, less aggravating island. Maybe one with cannibals, or vampires, or perhaps necrotizing fasciitis.
Gah. The things we do for our children, huh?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Saturday, June 6
Scouts and Ball
That's it. See you the end of June.
OK, I'm kidding. It's nearly over. But that's not too far off from what our schedule has looked like the past month.
Smidge's team took their Division Championship today in a back-to-back gruel-a-thon. 15 minutes between games! (Who scheduled that one??) But they hung in there, and nobody puked. Hallelujah! They play for the County title on Tuesday, and, being five and six, they are excited about that, when you mention it. But for the most part, they are focused on having a Team Party! PAR-TAY! WOOHOO! Partypartyparty...
John's team went all the way to the County Championships this year. They played their wee hearts out, and they have coaches who are all about doing your best -- that's a winning combination, no matter what the scoreboard looks like. We have a team of boys who have just thrived under that guidance, from the ones who hustle like there's no tomorrow, to the ones who still can't quite manage to make the bat connect with the ball, they are a team. And they did well. They lost the final game today, placing second in the County, and maintaining their Division Championship status. That is one tired bunch of boys. Thankfully, next up on the schedule is the Team Party! PAR-TAY!! (Yes, some things don't change, no matter how old they get.)
James and John had Cub Scout camp this past week. To them, it was an amazing, magical, wonderful, fun-filled week. To Zorak and I, it was something entirely different, entailing transportation schedules, an inordinate amount of laundry (who assigned the *one* t-shirt they give the kids as the daily uniform for camp? Obviously, not the person who does the laundry), and a lot of seemingly wasted time. Adults look at things through a completely different set of lenses, don't they? I know that's how it should be, or nothing much would ever get done and humanity would die off from starvation and the fumes from dirty laundry. Still, sometimes I think it would be wonderful to look at opportunities through the Kid Lens rather than through the less-thrilling GrownUp Lens.
Maybe a combination? Perspective Bi-focals, for all of life's opportunities? Think there's a market for that?
We better get on the R&D for those, because the boys now want to have their own Camp in the upper meadow, complete with tent camping, cooking on the fire, and athletics. Smidge informed me tonight that "Dad gets to come, too!" Heh. Gets to...
I'll let you know how that goes.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
OK, I'm kidding. It's nearly over. But that's not too far off from what our schedule has looked like the past month.
Smidge's team took their Division Championship today in a back-to-back gruel-a-thon. 15 minutes between games! (Who scheduled that one??) But they hung in there, and nobody puked. Hallelujah! They play for the County title on Tuesday, and, being five and six, they are excited about that, when you mention it. But for the most part, they are focused on having a Team Party! PAR-TAY! WOOHOO! Partypartyparty...
John's team went all the way to the County Championships this year. They played their wee hearts out, and they have coaches who are all about doing your best -- that's a winning combination, no matter what the scoreboard looks like. We have a team of boys who have just thrived under that guidance, from the ones who hustle like there's no tomorrow, to the ones who still can't quite manage to make the bat connect with the ball, they are a team. And they did well. They lost the final game today, placing second in the County, and maintaining their Division Championship status. That is one tired bunch of boys. Thankfully, next up on the schedule is the Team Party! PAR-TAY!! (Yes, some things don't change, no matter how old they get.)
James and John had Cub Scout camp this past week. To them, it was an amazing, magical, wonderful, fun-filled week. To Zorak and I, it was something entirely different, entailing transportation schedules, an inordinate amount of laundry (who assigned the *one* t-shirt they give the kids as the daily uniform for camp? Obviously, not the person who does the laundry), and a lot of seemingly wasted time. Adults look at things through a completely different set of lenses, don't they? I know that's how it should be, or nothing much would ever get done and humanity would die off from starvation and the fumes from dirty laundry. Still, sometimes I think it would be wonderful to look at opportunities through the Kid Lens rather than through the less-thrilling GrownUp Lens.
Maybe a combination? Perspective Bi-focals, for all of life's opportunities? Think there's a market for that?
We better get on the R&D for those, because the boys now want to have their own Camp in the upper meadow, complete with tent camping, cooking on the fire, and athletics. Smidge informed me tonight that "Dad gets to come, too!" Heh. Gets to...
I'll let you know how that goes.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Saturday, May 23
Saturday
Well, that was odd. Tried to hit "enter" and posted an empty post, instead. And here, I thought I'd had enough coffee to get started today!
The boys are off on a Cub Scout hike. Three miles in the mountains. It's a gorgeous morning, and both Zorak and I are railing a bit against the fact that I'm the one who loves early mornings, getting out of the house on Saturday, hiking, (he just... doesn't) and yet he's the one co-opted to go this morning. I suggested we all go, but the idea of carrying Jase and EmBaby three miles in the mountains didn't really appeal to either of us. Then I thought perhaps I could go, and he could stay, but the boys expect Dad to go, if he can. Plus, he enjoys seeing them enjoy themselves. That's one of the things parenthood does: you do things you may not enjoy, just for the smile on the children's faces. It's a wonderful kind of selfishness that makes me love him all the more.
And so, the Smallest and I are home, wondering what to do next. I hate the thought of tilling or mowing with only the Littles. Maybe we'll just go dig. Or prune. Or gather limbs for a bonfire. Or maybe just ride around the property on the wagon? Since Zorak fixed the Little Red Wagon, we've had a lot of fun hauling children and limbs and more children and the occasional plant.
What to do with a quiet Saturday morning?
The boys are off on a Cub Scout hike. Three miles in the mountains. It's a gorgeous morning, and both Zorak and I are railing a bit against the fact that I'm the one who loves early mornings, getting out of the house on Saturday, hiking, (he just... doesn't) and yet he's the one co-opted to go this morning. I suggested we all go, but the idea of carrying Jase and EmBaby three miles in the mountains didn't really appeal to either of us. Then I thought perhaps I could go, and he could stay, but the boys expect Dad to go, if he can. Plus, he enjoys seeing them enjoy themselves. That's one of the things parenthood does: you do things you may not enjoy, just for the smile on the children's faces. It's a wonderful kind of selfishness that makes me love him all the more.
And so, the Smallest and I are home, wondering what to do next. I hate the thought of tilling or mowing with only the Littles. Maybe we'll just go dig. Or prune. Or gather limbs for a bonfire. Or maybe just ride around the property on the wagon? Since Zorak fixed the Little Red Wagon, we've had a lot of fun hauling children and limbs and more children and the occasional plant.
What to do with a quiet Saturday morning?
Wednesday, April 8
Communication and Loopholes
So Smidge came in this morning to ask if he could use the hatchet to cut kindling. I gave him the standard song and dance (you can use the hatchet when Daddy is home, and only when Daddy is home and supervising. There is no using of the hatchet when Daddy is not home.) We've been through this. I just don't think it's wise to have ER trips for subsequent children for the *same* *exact* *injury*. Really, it seems like such a reasonable boundary.
But, being Smidge, he needs to really "get" what I'm saying. So he says, "Um, so are you saying we can't use the hatchet?"
Me: Yes.
Him: So nobody can use the hatchet?
Me: Yes.
Him: Only you can use the hatchet?
Me: Yes. (Yes, for the love of God, yes!)
Him: Oh. OK.
He walks out, and as he hits the foyer, I hear him talking to himself,
"OK, so it looks like we can only use the machete."
*blink* Somehow, I don't think we were having the same discussion. And yes, the irony of today's photo being part of the SmidgeCam upload is not lost on me.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Wednesday, March 18
Still Alive
Sorry for being so quiet. It's been busy here. And evidently the Percocet makes things interesting *only* in my head. But no words come out. Weird.
So, I leave you today with things the kids have come up with.
EmBaby:
We don't put poop on crackers, okay?
(mmm, okay...)
Smidge:
I wouldn't want to be an Aztec OR a Conquistador because, well, because I'm a bit of a coward.
(ROFL!)
John:
You know, I think maybe when I'm done with baseball, I'll take up fencing. They don't make you run in fencing.
(good point. that one is definitely mine.)
James:
(after getting all of his Latin exercise correct on the first try)
*leans on my shoulder*
You don't have to drink because of me.
(not today, kiddo. not today)
Jase:
Doesn't say much, really. He's got three and a half teeth. That fourth one won't come in. We imaging if he could talk, he'd cuzz like a sailor on shore leave. So, it's probably good that he's not talking much, yet.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
So, I leave you today with things the kids have come up with.
EmBaby:
We don't put poop on crackers, okay?
(mmm, okay...)
Smidge:
I wouldn't want to be an Aztec OR a Conquistador because, well, because I'm a bit of a coward.
(ROFL!)
John:
You know, I think maybe when I'm done with baseball, I'll take up fencing. They don't make you run in fencing.
(good point. that one is definitely mine.)
James:
(after getting all of his Latin exercise correct on the first try)
*leans on my shoulder*
You don't have to drink because of me.
(not today, kiddo. not today)
Jase:
Doesn't say much, really. He's got three and a half teeth. That fourth one won't come in. We imaging if he could talk, he'd cuzz like a sailor on shore leave. So, it's probably good that he's not talking much, yet.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Friday, March 13
Friday Night Fun
Well, I offered to let Zorak pound on my kidney ("percussion therapy" - about as much fun as it sounds) while we watched a movie. Then I could fall asleep, he could finish watching it, and he could fill me in tomorrow on whether it was worth staying up for. He declined. Huh. Tell me the romance isn't dead. (I know. It's not always this bad, for either of us. Just been a long week.)
John's down with something viral. It hit him hard this morning, and he's been out of commission all day. James and I tore the kitchen apart, looking desperately for the Emergen-C, both of us wild-eyed and panicky. We. Cannot. Get. This. ACK!
On a side note -- It's kind of cool to have a child who is old enough to understand the fear, and to help, rather than just feel put out that his/her brother gets to have a drink. with a straw. in bed. Big Picture, here, guys - they do, eventually, get it.
We saw the doc this evening, and the doc said keep pushing liquids and rest. Not strep; nothing in the ears, sinus, chest, or throat; doesn't look flu-ish. Call tomorrow to touch base. If he's not better by Monday, we'll do a blood draw and figure out what's going on.
There are SO many things I love about the kids' doctor. His waiting room is a malarial hell, but he is worth the risk. He wants the parent to stay in the room. He stays open until late in the evening (doesn't open early - I'm guessing he is among us night owls, and how awesome that he can operate on hours that work for him, no? Hey, if he's a better doctor after eleven in the morning, I'm glad he knows his limits!) He's very thorough, but also fairly non-interventionist. He listens - not just to the patient and parent, but he listens to the child's body. It's wild to watch him work. Totally focused, listening, feeling, sorting. Skin tone, color, flush... sounds... just, it's hard to explain. The whole body comes into play when he's doing an exam. I get a kick out of him. And I trust him with my children.
So, no baseball clinic tonight. No Pinewood Derby tomorrow. John is disappointed, but true to his generous nature, all he's said was that he's sorry he won't be able to go. No fits. No drama. I owe God, big-time, for giving me this sweet, gracious, understanding child. (I was not such a good kid. This would have been a fit and a pity party of gigantic proportions, when I was eight. He must get it from Zorak.)
Come to think of it, I owe a big thanks for Zorak, too. He had chili ready when we got home. With homemade sopapillas, and lemonade.
And now, to bed. Or else they'll all be up at five and we'll be bleary-eyed and disoriented. That's never a good combination.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
John's down with something viral. It hit him hard this morning, and he's been out of commission all day. James and I tore the kitchen apart, looking desperately for the Emergen-C, both of us wild-eyed and panicky. We. Cannot. Get. This. ACK!
On a side note -- It's kind of cool to have a child who is old enough to understand the fear, and to help, rather than just feel put out that his/her brother gets to have a drink. with a straw. in bed. Big Picture, here, guys - they do, eventually, get it.
We saw the doc this evening, and the doc said keep pushing liquids and rest. Not strep; nothing in the ears, sinus, chest, or throat; doesn't look flu-ish. Call tomorrow to touch base. If he's not better by Monday, we'll do a blood draw and figure out what's going on.
There are SO many things I love about the kids' doctor. His waiting room is a malarial hell, but he is worth the risk. He wants the parent to stay in the room. He stays open until late in the evening (doesn't open early - I'm guessing he is among us night owls, and how awesome that he can operate on hours that work for him, no? Hey, if he's a better doctor after eleven in the morning, I'm glad he knows his limits!) He's very thorough, but also fairly non-interventionist. He listens - not just to the patient and parent, but he listens to the child's body. It's wild to watch him work. Totally focused, listening, feeling, sorting. Skin tone, color, flush... sounds... just, it's hard to explain. The whole body comes into play when he's doing an exam. I get a kick out of him. And I trust him with my children.
So, no baseball clinic tonight. No Pinewood Derby tomorrow. John is disappointed, but true to his generous nature, all he's said was that he's sorry he won't be able to go. No fits. No drama. I owe God, big-time, for giving me this sweet, gracious, understanding child. (I was not such a good kid. This would have been a fit and a pity party of gigantic proportions, when I was eight. He must get it from Zorak.)
Come to think of it, I owe a big thanks for Zorak, too. He had chili ready when we got home. With homemade sopapillas, and lemonade.
And now, to bed. Or else they'll all be up at five and we'll be bleary-eyed and disoriented. That's never a good combination.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sunday, January 18
Now She is Three
I hope she always has kisses in the morning, laughter in the day, and roses in winter.
Happy 3rd (and 4th) Birthday, EmBaby!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
(And I have to admit that while we were arranging the cupcakes on the platter, I kept saying to myself, "These are cupcakes on a plate. They are not a cupcake cake. They are not a cupcake cake. She wanted cupcakes, and these are individual, separate cupcakes, not cupcake cakes...")
Tuesday, December 30
Life With Kids
I kept finding the magnetic letters all over the floor in the kitchen. There were bits of ripped up foam packing there, too. So I'd put all the letters back on the fridge and the packing in the recycle bin. Next time I went it, it had happened again. What in the world is this?
Then I saw it, and realized what was going on.
EmBaby was putting her babies to bed. Albeit in the kitchen, yes. But she'd lovingly lay each letter down, and tuck it in beneath a bit of foam packing, tucked just under what would probably be their little chins.
Now that I know what it is, it's cute. Before it was just annoying. Funny how perspective changes things, no?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Then I saw it, and realized what was going on.
EmBaby was putting her babies to bed. Albeit in the kitchen, yes. But she'd lovingly lay each letter down, and tuck it in beneath a bit of foam packing, tucked just under what would probably be their little chins.
Now that I know what it is, it's cute. Before it was just annoying. Funny how perspective changes things, no?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Tuesday, December 16
Why...
Why are there more pictures of the babies than of anybody else?
Because you can stick the babies in a box under the tree and snap 200 pictures in less time and with less effort than it takes to find the right settings and capture one shot of the mobile ones as they dash from here to there.
And if you whistle and sing and make faces at the older ones, you don't get quite the same expression you do with the babies.
I'm convinced that's the reason. :-)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Because you can stick the babies in a box under the tree and snap 200 pictures in less time and with less effort than it takes to find the right settings and capture one shot of the mobile ones as they dash from here to there.
And if you whistle and sing and make faces at the older ones, you don't get quite the same expression you do with the babies.
I'm convinced that's the reason. :-)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Friday, November 21
Saturday
Scout hike. In the morning. On the mountain. It's down to 16 degrees tonight. And tomorrow's the start of deer season. And... sixteen degrees, people! This couldn't have been arranged sometime in September?!?
Melissa reminded me that there's no such thing as inclement weather, just inadequate clothing. *snort* Unfortunately, the clothing we have IS inadequate. When we pulled the winter coats out today, we discovered James has no coat. I would blame myself, but honestly, I bought his coat over-sized last year! What business that child had, growing two full sizes over the summer, is beyond me. Guess we'll discover the Power of Layers tomorrow, huh? He's going to look like Ralphie's little brother.
And yes, I'm taking the camera. Because we just haven't scarred the child enough lately.
The Littles and I are going to tag along, visit friends, and hopefully do a little shopping while Zorak and the boys do the three-mile hike. In the cold. We'll think of them while we're waiting in line at the coffee shop.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Melissa reminded me that there's no such thing as inclement weather, just inadequate clothing. *snort* Unfortunately, the clothing we have IS inadequate. When we pulled the winter coats out today, we discovered James has no coat. I would blame myself, but honestly, I bought his coat over-sized last year! What business that child had, growing two full sizes over the summer, is beyond me. Guess we'll discover the Power of Layers tomorrow, huh? He's going to look like Ralphie's little brother.
And yes, I'm taking the camera. Because we just haven't scarred the child enough lately.
The Littles and I are going to tag along, visit friends, and hopefully do a little shopping while Zorak and the boys do the three-mile hike. In the cold. We'll think of them while we're waiting in line at the coffee shop.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
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