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

The Days Roll By

We probably ought to start a new project soon. It's been terribly quiet, here. Actually, the guys did build an HD antenna the other night. It's mounted on the wall (and needs some aesthetic support...) but now we get a few channels on TV. I celebrated last night by falling asleep watching My Name is Earl.

Scouts is a little wonky, at the moment. Everybody who is supposed to move up to a Boy Scout Troop has been holding off to see where the Den Leader and his son are going to go (so that they can all go elsewhere). The entire Den. In retaliation, he's refusing to declare until everybody else does. So, we have all these boys in limbo, who should be in Boy Scouts, but are, instead, stuck at the Pack meetings. *sigh* Last night, we broke the standoff and declared our Troop and made arrangements for James' crossing over ceremony. What we didn't do was mention that it's a one-year trial, and if this guy ends up being "the adult in charge" at any point, we are out of there. The leaders of the Troop know our stance. We'll see how that works out.

In the meantime, the Cub Pack is really growing and changing, now that this guy has released his hold on it. The Pack Master has grown into his new role so beautifully, and all the parents are stepping up to assist him and support him. I think the Little Guys are in for a Spectacular Year.
Smidge loves being a Tiger! I love the Tigers! Oh, my, they are adorable. And enthusiastic. And cute. And just oh-so-precious. And did I mention adorable? It really is like a big ol' litter of fuzzy little puppies, all tumbling about together. Except they don't bite your toes, or pee on your lap. And they're funny! So really, they're better than puppies. Plus, they grow up into fine young men, and that is encouraging, as well.

We've got a busy day ahead of us. The boys start guitar lessons today, I think. (I hope. It's one of those things that crept up on me.) Groceries and cleaning out the car and working a bit more in the basement. It doesn't sound like much, but it's all good stuff. A clean car feels fantastic. Food is always good. Always. And the basement is rather exciting because Zorak initiated this particular project, so I have hope it will stick! The boys have already made great use of their new work area, and they're loving the new "space".

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Fantastic Fall Days

This is the best time of year, down here! Spring's a close second, but this is pure Heaven.

The boys are outside, trying to find the "best" way to make yourself sick on the tire swing. James' favorite, so far, is to lie face down on the tire and have someone twist the rope to its max capacity. It works well enough to make me queasy from the front porch! Ugh.

The Littles are roaming about, finding new fungi that have sprung up in the past week. There are still flowers in bloom, here and there, and EmBaby keeps us in kitchen bouquets every day. What a beautiful use for flowers!

I'm inside solely because Zorak actually mentioned last night what he'd like for supper tonight, but I cannot, for the life of me, now remember what it is. Yes, I know the answer is more likely to be found in the kitchen than the computer. But I had cooker's cramp, so I came to decompress a bit before trying again.

We got so far behind on the extras in the peripheral of our life while we were finishing the house, and as much as I'd love to say we got right back on that train, well, we're not really "runners" and the train was going rather quickly, and... and... yeah. Things are still popping up to catch me completely off guard - like Cub Scout Camporee *this weekend* - and we were supposed to go camping with friends sometime *this month* - and books! - and switching the boys' music schedule to squeeze in guitar lessons - and probably getting a guitar - and now it's only three weeks out from the Big Surgery - and ACK! Sometimes, I really wish I was a drinker. At least then, I'd have an excuse.

But, barring an out-of-the-blue drinking binge, which would be really difficult to explain later, or severe head trauma, which I'd just rather not even entertain the possibility of dealing with, I guess that leaves us with the tried and true, "Suck it up and get moving" approach. It's no fun, but it is effective. And consistent. (So why does it make me want to throw a little bitty tantrum and yell, "I don't wanna!" - how's that going to help?)

CHICKEN SOUP! Aha! That's what he wanted! I think. Maybe. Well, we have the ingredients for it. And the weather's perfect. And it'll let me get on with putting the rest of the things in order. So, yes, that's what we'll be doing.

OK, time to chop! (And hey, the kids just wandered in, looking blissfully unaware that they're about to be put to work! Heh. Love that.)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

My-my-my-myyyyy Papaya!

John butchered a song, just for me, while we were making the fruit salad Saturday! I'm so glad I let them "help" in the kitchen back when they weren't much actual help. Now they really are a riot in the kitchen, and they like being there.

We had the boys' belated birthday cookout last night. We had rain for ages. Then it cleared up, with stray downpours on the various days we tried to have the cookout. I chose my words poorly at some point in the planning process, by referring to the get-together as a "BBQ", at which point, James decided we had to use the grill. So. There's that. (I can't complain. I'm the genius who's always telling them to be precise in their language. Obviously, I need to be a little more precise about "Mom's limitations" from time-to-time, no?) Finally, however, Saturday dawned dry and clear and glorious.

It was a small group, and a little disorganized (which is sort of our signature *sigh*), but a really wonderful time, regardless (hopefully, also, at least a little, reminiscent of "us"). They got to play with their friends, and see Uncle Wil, and shoot off fireworks and enjoy a small bonfire. Both James and Smidge feel duly celebrated, now. Good stuff.

We served fish tacos (those hamburger baskets for the grill work beautifully for fish, by the way -- we may be the last people to know that, but in case we aren't, now you know), tropical fruit salad (fresh papaya tastes SO much better than dried papaya! WOW!), beans (of course. If you're eating at our house, there will be beans. Always.), rice (again, sometimes we are just. so. predictable.) and homemade carrot cake (because there just isn't a mix that makes it worth it to not have to shred that many carrots).

The boys helped with the cake decorating by making the molded carrots to put on the cake. Oh, too cute! Thankfully, because they'd been working in the kitchen all morning, their hands were washed repeatedly and well by the time we got to the Making of the Carrots.

I'm still stuffed. They're still glowing. And it's raining again. :-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

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

Under Threat of Harm, The Year Of Joy Recap

I'm blogging! I'm blogging! (I'm starting to get scary phone calls and emails!) So, do you remember that 2009 is slated in my book as "The Year of Joy"? Since it's hard to blog with all that pressure *aherm*, I thought maybe a quick recap of where the Year of Joy has gone thus far would be in order. It's not over, yet, but it is flying by!

It began with a bit of a bang - the whole Stranded in the Boonies with the 20- something% Sales Tax thing. An impacted wisdom tooth (and its extraction), and then a doctor whose nonprofessional attitude cost us a *lot* of money and time, getting to the root of the problem.

The Suburban finally died a cranky, Shakespearean-style death. Two procedures for the kidney thing. There's still something wrong with my arm from the heplock. The kids' pediatrician has had his license suspended. I won't even go into the political scene right now, but suffice it to say there's been little joy on that front, for us. (I get that it's been quite joyful for some. I do.) The garden has leprosy. The pear trees developed mange. Some days, we've been pretty sure EmBaby has rabies. The deck still doesn't have stairs on the front, and there are still no screens on the doors. Zorak hasn't had his sinus surgery yet, so nobody's slept well in... oh, about 14 years.

But, wait. Is there joy in there? Yes, there is. There's a lot of joy in 2009! Allow me to expound.

I'll bold the Joy.

Along the way, we've been blessed with kind-hearted, loving souls, from the lady who brought us diapers in Arkansas, to the sweet friend who loaned us her vacuum for the appraisal... From phone-friends who have made us laugh, and made us think, to family who teach and guide and encourage... From finally finding a church home, to developing deepening friendships locally... From building slushmen on the balcony to catching fireflies in the lower meadow. We finished the bathroom and have two working toilets! We've had a number of wonderful afternoons with the kids, and splendid evenings together without the kids.

We've learned and stretched and grown. We've worked together, and learned how to work together better than ever before. We've been able to help others in many ways. And we've been helped in many ways. The kids are all a year older, healthy, happy, and loved. We all have a better idea of what won't work in the garden. There's a plan for next year's garden! (It may not work, but that's not the point.)

So. Much. Joy. Sometimes, I don't know where to begin. We didn't expect that this would be the Year of Nothing Challenging. Where's the joy in that? This truly is The Year of Joy, and sometimes, Joy arrives in the most delightful places, just where you need it the most. Where do you find your Joy?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

2nd Bathroom in the Forever Home!

Technically, it did not just take us 14 days to build a bathroom. Not only was there a ton of finish work on other projects to complete (because we're just not so much about the finish work, really), but we seem to have angered the toilet gods mightily. The toilet pictured is the *fourth* commode this week - however, it's the first to have both a matching tank/bowl, the first not to spritz water against the back wall like a deranged bidet, and the first to have all its pertinent parts (present and facing the proper direction). So while it may not be our favorite, it works, it's in, and, heaven help us, it's staying.

Not to mention, after four years in a one-bathroom home, 14 days seems silly to fret over. However, we've gone from this, a few days into the project, to this:

Taken from the pocket door, looking in. I love this room.

Still at the door, looking straight in. I know, the turquoise towel throws it off a bit. Truthfully, when I needed a towel at two in the morning, I wasn't worried about which color I grabbed. The recessed vanity cabinet is a favorite feature. We thought we'd have to go with a pedestal, because of the cramped quarters. But this gives us the best of both worlds - cabinet room, smaller footprint, and a nifty sink that makes us smile. (Best of all worlds, then? Since there are three points?)

And, standing *in* the shower, looking back. Love the light fixture, but those itty bitty bulbs are 50watt halogen bulbs. I'll put the other two in later, when we aren't working and sweating in there. Too. Much. Heat. However, come winter, I'm sure it'll be handy. And the ceiling details - Zorak's "racetrack". Love it!

The walls are really gorgeous in person. My phone camera didn't quite do it justice, and I'm far too impatient to keep trying for a good shot when these are at least somewhat in focus. This bathroom is narrow (4.5' stud-to-stud) and long (10', thanks to the wall we'd pushed out). I don't even remember how the original bathroom was laid out, other than that the shower was barely big enough for one person to turn around, but not for said person to bend down or raise arms. Weird.

And, now, the house is pretty much finished. Or, more accurately, Phase One is pretty much finished. If it'll ever stop raining for more than six hours at a time, we can put the last of the deck stain on the balcony, and the porch off the master bedroom needs to be pulled off and replaced with something that remotely resembles the balcony. (I'll have to post a side-by-side of those two - it's a jarring, and rather humorous, contrast.) We still have to finish the awful (as in, wow-this-is-inexpensive-and-wonderful-but-good-hell-what-were-we-thinking) project of rehabbing the storm windows. And screen doors would be nice. Oh, and the window. But, if things go as we hope they'll go, the Big Kitchen Window will be the next project to get done! Still, that all seems like such simple little weekend projects, now. It's... weird.

The children seem to have lost only a modest amount of their civility, with those most affected being Smidge and EmBaby, who snarl if you touch them while they're eating, and have taken to marking one another's "territory" (thankfully, thus far, with toys, not urine - another week, and who knows how things might have gone!) Jase seems oblivious - evidently, he's used to being raised by wolves. The older two have held up well - being aware of the calendar and the general passage of time helps, I'm sure. The past 14 days haven't felt nearly as long for them as three days' worth of writing assignments!

And so ends another project with the family intact, and the house getting better as we go.

I think, on payday, we're going to do something fun just for the kids. They've been troopers.

Sweet, Sweet Six

Six? Wow. He's so happy about it. We are, too. We're just a bit caught off guard. Six? I blame Jess and Andie for letting their kids turn six. Then everybody wants to jump on the bandwagon and do it, too. (Keep 'em off the bridges, okay, guys?)
Since we're *still* in the middle of the Mad Rush To Finish, we all agreed that a belated, joint party, later would be best. When we're done with the Madness and the Rushing and can relax a bit. He was good with that. So very good with that, really. But still... *today* was his birthday.
So this morning, there were fudge ripple pancakes (from The Plant That Ate Dirty Socks), and there was singing, and there were phone calls that made him smile a sheepish smile.
For tonight, he picked shrimp scampi, with salad and garlic bread for supper. And for his cake? Cheesecake. The four-pack sampler from Sam's, to be specific. I love that kid, and his taste in food.
And now, he is six.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

(The pics are bad b/c they're from my phone. The camera finally died a horrific death and needs to be shuffled off to ICU. Later. After the rushing and the madness have died down, and I can get it boxed up.)

And the beat goes on...

The kids have all been absolute troopers this week, and their willingness to pitch in on any level has made this project so much more enjoyable. It's been neat, though, to see how they work. They're each getting more and more into their own "thing", and while it does remind me that Dora won't stick around forever, it's also nice to be able to enjoy them where they are, at each turn.

John loves to turn on music and jam out while we work. His taste runs a little to the hard-rock side, and we're not sure how that happened. So, we compromise with an eclectic mix of radio stations and CD's - some of what he loves, with a little other stuff to keep the rest of us from getting to high-strung or twitchy. His favorite is a band called Hand Over Fist, out of Prescott, AZ. Funny, we had that CD for eight years and never played it all the way through, but that's the first one he asks for when we get in the car these days.

James has taken to downloading Mark Levin podcasts to listen to while he works. He gets a lot done this way, since each one is almost 50 minutes long. But I have to have him physically turn the thing off and stuff the ear buds into his pocket when I'm giving him directions or he'll slowly tilt his head to the side, trying to get his ear close enough to hear it while I'm talking. It's actually kind of funny, and I will admit that occasionally, when in need of entertainment, I'll not say anything for a while, just to see how far he twist while still maintaining eye contact with me. When he realizes what's going on, he blushes and stuffs the thing away with a sheepish little grin. Then he's all mine. Such a funny, sweet kid.

Smidge and Em are... Smidge and Em. They bicker like a married couple, but stick together like glue. They're so good to each other in small, constant ways, that the bickering is bearable, though. And Jase? Well, he's teething. Molars. Hyland's and Desitin to the rescue!

Today is a big and busy day, and we're really looking forward to it. And, then, tonight, perhaps, hopefully, I can texture the bathroom walls! (It was SO humid yesterday. Then, finally, it just rained and got it over with. When it stopped raining, the air glistened for the rest of the day. Not droplets on the leaves. The actual air. It wasn't quite like fog - just Very Wet Air. We didn't even try to work with Things That Need To Dry yesterday.)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

OK, that didn't work.

The joint compound would. not. dry. this weekend. Just wouldn't dry. And so, we still do not have a functioning bathroom. (Took me five minutes to type this. This is why I only blog at night, when everybody is in bed. Obviously, I am not alone at the moment.) However, we did get up more trim, more do-dads, and got a plan for something that we didn't realize needed a plan until we got to it and it wouldn't work.

Anyway, the upshot is that Jason hasn't figured out where we are all day, so at least we have hope that he won't get in there and help with the texturing, when we get to it. I'm also keeping my fingers crossed that we could potentially pee in peace for a week or so before he figures it out!

Everything else is done that can be done, for now. And now, we wait. And pray for an arid few days. And a breeze. That'd be handy, too.

What'd you all do this weekend?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Project Blogging! Master Bath

We've been camped out in here...
"Somebody" was supposed to send for help, but we suspect they got distracted. Netflix Watch Instantly and a box of Cheez-Its, and hey, who needs parents, right?

We think we'll be done tomorrow. If not, I may just move the computer back there, so we can keep in touch. We have wireless; the kids won't miss a thing on Netflix.

In the meantime, we've also finished up most of the remaining (OK, "neglected") details on the house. Baseboards painted, door trims painted, ugly basement door in hall painted, previously painted doors re-hung (doors are over-rated, really). I even had John take the air return grille out and scrub it off with a brush and the jet blaster on the garden hose! Evidently, it's white. Huh.

And, we've taken out the Ghetto Adobe Pink in the kitchen (we love it, but it's too close to Kraftmaid's "Toffee Maple" finish, so there wasn't the *POP* we wanted) and replaced it with a creamy creamish cream color (which is not "white", okay? and yes, cream can *POP*. Really, it can) and green. Both, on one of the walls! I got a little nuts. Zorak still isn't sure if he's going to leave me unsupervised with the paint cans, again. But I *love* it! I used KathyJo's method of painting -- literally, called her up and begged her to hold my hand and walk me through it -- she is very patient with slow people. And I *LOVE* it.

I'll get pictures later, when the fridge is back in place, and all the other random things are not in the middle of the floor. Things always look worse right before they look better. Or, that's what I tell Zorak, anyway.

Kiss those babies!

OMGosh, where have I been?

I've been sorting, washing, and tagging clothes for the Kids' Swap Clothing Sale in Decatur. I've been sorting, washing, and boxing up things for the thrift store donation, the "gotta get this MAILED" stack, and the "REALLY need to get THIS mailed" pile. I've been to the dentist. I've been to the car wash. I've been going-going-going non-stop for a week!

Mice found the pantry shelf in the basement. Naturally, we don't have doors on it, yet. We will soon, though. Nothing motivates us quite like urgency, does it? Yick. Spent a lot of time reconfiguring that. Thank God for the compost, or I might have cried.

Jason yells, "Maaaaaamaaaaa" all. the. time. now. It'll be darling once we have a bit of space between the event and the memory. His inflection is fantastic, though. We can tell what he wants from clear across the house.

EmBaby just yells. I think she's feeling pressured to keep up with the noise level now that the older boys are doing their studies during the day. I'm sure they appreciate that.

Smidge is happy as a clam, and about to get happier: he gets to be acknowledged as an official Tiger Cub tomorrow night. Woot! (He doesn't know this, yet.) We'll swing by the Scout Shop tomorrow, after yet another dental visit (man, am I just the burgeoning medical butterfly, or what?), and hopefully get the proper dodads glued onto the proper spots in time for the meeting tomorrow.

Don't know what happened with the Pack, but there's been a total 180 lately. It's been fantastic. Even Zorak, who had begun to contemplate semi-spontaneous road trips for Thursdays, looks forward to going. They're *doing* things now. The attitudes have improved. The meetings are more organized. There's a plan-of-sorts in place. Even the kinda-scary-problem-child has been a totally-different-child. Everybody's enjoying the differences.

All this makes for good living, but lousy blogging. How have you all been? Fill me in!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

TOO MUCH!

Too much to post, and not enough time without people touching me, climbing on me, or digging their bony little elbows into my leg. I could blog regularly and well with a few minor modifications. All I need is voice recognition software, a laptop, a gilly suit, and a caramel launcher. Is that so much to ask?

Tomorrow, ask me about the cool new Grammar program for 1st and 2nd! It's awesome! We're going to use it, and we don't normally use a Grammar program at all. But this? This is cool.

We had a splendid Sunday, hanging with Me-Wa and Me-Tae. They met us at church. Actually, they got there on time. We slipped in even later than usual. But I *had* to mop. There was simply no way around it.

Death by Irony point: this, right after Zorak helped talk me out of mopping Saturday night, by whispering sexy things into my ear, like, "It's okay to drop your standards a little, just one more time..."

See what happens when you listen to the Siren's Song, people? You have to panic-clean before church!

After a typically fantastic service (we are SO fortunate for this church), they came to the house, where I did not have to choke down convulsions and horror, because at least the floor was relatively clean-ish. We ate a weird lunch (I don't remember what we made.) Then the guys sighted in a few things, the kids blew bubbles, and played the piano for Me-Tae, and just generally enjoyed the lovely afternoon and the good company.Monday was gorgeous, but we didn't realize that until about 12:30, because it's the middle of August, and seriously, who expects a gorgeous day in the middle of August in the South? Once we clued in, though, we hustled through the rest of our lessons and then got out and enjoyed it.

When, what we should have done was work in it. Because today it rained and rained and rained. And now everything we should have picked up, or mowed, or harvested, is all sparkly and highlighted by droplets of sparkling guilt. But it's beautiful enough that we really hardly felt the guilt at all.
Dishwasher's still not fixed, another part will arrive Friday. I'm running out of one-pot meals we can all eat straight out of the pot, with our hands.

And that, my friends, is the week so far.

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

Summer Antics

We finished the week strong and took off Friday to enjoy time with our friends.

This group is getting smaller, as some of the families are choosing to send their children to public school for high school. But we still enjoy our time together, even in our smaller ranks. And the high school aged children who were there yesterday, we enjoyed tremendously.

The biggest shock for me was seeing a canoe go by, looking up, and seeing, not Big Kids, but Smidge and two little girls his age maneuvering the thing across the lake. What?!? The BABIES are using the canoe? *sigh* Yes, they don't stay babies very long.

John made an alcohol stove at Scouts this week, and he's been dying to show it off. So, last night, we hunkered down on the front porch and he set it up.But just boiling water isn't that interesting. So he chopped vegetables, added spices, and made us a pot of soup. It was fantastic!

No, they sure don't stay babies for long. Even if they'll always be "my babies", I can't help but enjoy the growing up process, as well.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

I love vocabulary.

Not as an exercise on its own, but as a part of the day, it's wonderful. What's a "mazer"?

What's the difference between a broadsword and a regular sword?

"OH! Well, no wonder, then!"

Heh.

Yes, this is good.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

First Grade for Smidge

That's such a weird sensation. *pause to reflect how quickly it goes. pause, pause, pause* OK, not getting any easier. Let's move on, anyway.

He's pretty much following the path his brothers have packed down ahead of him, with variations to account for support where he needs it, and leeway where I wish I'd given it with the older two. Not a lot of "seat time". Plenty of "couch time". Lots of "outside time" (when it cools off a bit). This isn't Victorian England, and I don't have a stash of opium, so we don't have the pastoral scenes of young children learning that one might expect or desire. We have a lot of paper, tons of colored pencils and drawing materials, books absolutely *everywhere*, and I think there's Sculpey stuck to the bathroom wall. (I don't know how or why. I quit asking years ago.)

Science is Life. Particularly at this age. It's Parables From Nature. It's a magnifying glass and an afternoon on the floor with encyclopedias and Mom. It's drawings and rabbit trails. Leaves and seeds and flowers and fruit. Eggs and larvae and things you probably don't want in your home. It's antibacterial soap and a lot of deep, slow breathing.

Math-U-See Alpha is math for Smidge. It's his happy spot. He enjoyed Primer, learned plenty, and was anxious to start in his new book. (Comes by that last bit honestly. We all just love a fresh, new book, around here. It's almost, but not quite, a sickness.)

Music and Art are still a bit haphazard, here. Although we do still enjoy Artistic Pursuits and Meet the Great Composers, so he'll continue to use those in a light and painfully unstructured way.

For History, I feel like I ought to go back and start him with Vol. I of Story of the World. We had such a good time with that. Then I realize what a scheduling nightmare I'd be inventing for myself. It's not as if he hasn't been listening in along the way, and I have to remind myself (sometimes forcibly) that he's putting up pegs on which to hang future information. Since he draws Hammurabi cartoons, explains how a trebuchet works, and makes jokes about privateers, I'm guessing he's been listening - at least peripherally - and has been, quite happily, slinging pegs here and there along the way. So he's doing Modern Times with us, at a slower, softer pace.

For Reading, Phonics, Spelling, and so forth, I still cannot recommend The Writing Road to Reading highly enough. It is thorough, concise, and well done. And, with apologies to Ms. Spalding, I modify it to suit our needs. Smidge needs extra work on his speech, so this is where I put that in, too. More focus on speech, less on reading for him than is usual.

Copywork, copying the work you're reading together, is the absolute best at this age. Pick the things you enjoyed as you read. Write them out, let them copy, and then turn them loose to illustrate it. Some children love coloring books. So far, none of mine really have. Smidge seems the closest, but even he will draw his own illustrations quite happily. Put them up. I have no clue what color my fridge used to be. Someday, the weight of the tape, magnets and paper will pull the door off, I'm sure, and then we'll remove the pictures and narrations and copy work and see what it looks like. Before we cover it up again.

A note on reading. (Pardon me while I pull out my little soapbox. It's just a little one.) The reading comes. Whether it comes when they are two, four, six, or seven, it does come. Read aloud to them. Tell stories. Make up stories. Let language fill your days and nights. Create for them a world rich in literary texture, tastes, and images, and they'll want to make it their own. You've got a big old bag full of tools to share along the way, and yes, show them those tools. Explain how they work. But if it doesn't click, don't get angry or frustrated. Put the tools away and dive back into the words for a while. Try again later. Definitely keep your eyes open for places where there may be trouble, and address those spots if you find them, but always remember that reading is a gift we can cultivate in their hearts, as well as their minds. It's interesting to me that that's the one area I've never sweated, and it's the one area I have no/few regrets now that I'm in a position to start looking back. I have a horrible suspicion I'll find many other areas where I will wish I'd applied this philosophy a bit more soundly. (Sheepishly tucks soapbox back under the desk.)

Literature. Such a word! For the Littles, it makes it sound much less enjoyable than it is! There are book lists and book lists and book lists. I can't even pretend to know a tenth of what's out there, and when I try to collect it all, Zorak inevitably finds me curled up on the porch, feverishly figuring out what we'd have to sell or go without in order to BUY IT ALL RIGHT NOW. So. I try not to peruse more than one or two lists at a time. Zorak appreciates that, and so does my blood pressure. I like Veritas Press' reading lists, and of course, The Baldwin Project's books are big favorites, here, too. If you find something at Baldwin Project that you'd like to have in print, Yesterday's Classics offers many titles. We've ordered from them, and have always had great service. The books are decent quality softcover books. Lang's Fairy Books are also a staple.

For an all-in-one collection at this stage, the 20th Century Children's Book Treasury is my all-time favorite collection. It gets read, and read, and loved on and read. The binding is crap, and the book won't last through three children before Chicka-Chicka Boom-Boom and part of Swimmy fall out in the hallway. But I haven't found a collection of favorites like this anywhere else. Even Zorak got excited when we received this book, years ago. (Who knew he had such a soft spot for Sylvester?) Ideally, we'd all be able to buy all the books individually, but realistically that's an investment of almost $1,000 all said and done. And you know, if I'm going to lay out a grand for a book collection, it'll be the one *I've* been coveting for almost a decade now, thanks. This, however, does the trick quite nicely. And, as True Favorites emerge, you can pick them up here and there without giving anybody involved in the household finances a stroke. There's that.

Poetry. Don't scoff. (OK, go ahead and scoff, but come back. I'll wait.) Poetry. Charlotte Mason's educational philosophy incorporates daily poetry. As with anybody who has homeschooled more than, say, six months, I've read her papers, poked around Ambleside Online, fallen in love with it, and eventually abandoned it, in general, taking precious gems with me back to my eclectic educational cave. Poetry was one of those gems. It doesn't have to be dry or dull. Hilaire Belloc, Mother Goose, Robert Lewis Stevenson - whimsical, beautiful, rich poetry is available and wonderful for use in daily life. I can tell you this: the best year we've ever had, as far as routine, tone, flavor, and pace, was the year we incorporated poetry into our daily routine. We are bringing it back this year. It was that good.

The bulk of our school is reading, even at this age. When they're older, they read and we discuss. When they're younger, we read together and we discuss. When they're younger, I read to them and we discuss. It looks different at every stage, but you'd be hard pressed to find me, at any stage, putting us in a circle, clipboard on my lap, peering over imaginary spectacles as I toss out a topic and say, in the manner of James Lipton, "Why?" More likely is that Zorak comes home to find us piled up in the boys' room, or the living room, talking animatedly about whatever it was that struck our fancies.

Mostly, it's an organic flow of discussion. Questions, point-counterpoint, more rabbit trails, bantering, back and forth, and always, in the end, more reading. When you care what they think, what they liked, and what they got out of it, they know. And they're happy to share. This is what I'm talking about when I tell people that homeschooling is a lifestyle more than just an exercise in academics. It's how we do things, and who we are, part and parcel, inseparable. Sometimes, you'll want to bang your head against the wall, but not right now (I'll go into that more on the appropriate entry, later). Right now, it's all magic. It's all new and exciting and interesting.

And, I think that's about it, for First Grade.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The Sloth is Among Us

It's more of a mindset than an actual animal. (Lest anybody worry that we've taken to importing critters to, erm, supplement our income.) Although, in the interest of full disclosure, if you'd watched me from 2:00 to about 5:00 this afternoon, you'd have been hard-pressed to see any movement.

This weekend wasn't just hot. It was Hot 'n Sticky. I know, I know, Zorak helpfully reminded me that summer's almost over. (It wasn't helpful.) Add to that, our propensity for not being what one would call "Morning People" (so we don't get out and work early in the day), and you have the ready indication that we are also (as I've pointed out before) "Not Farmers". It is a miracle that we've harvested as much as we have from the garden. Once we found it among the weeds, that is. And after the flush of excitement wore off (about three seconds after the last item hit the bag), we mutinied against our Beloved Commander and headed for the house.

See, he has a work ethic that demands he get things done on the property, no matter how unholy the weather, or how miserable the conditions. So, although he may not get up and at 'em bright and early and go scattering cliches about the property, he still gets work done. Even if that means doing it in the hottest part of the day. While the children and I (lacking such ethic, and sweating profusely) keep edging nearer and nearer the house, keeping in the shade of the trees, in the hope we can make a break for it while he's on the other side of the barn.

I can't blame the boys for taking 30 minutes to "get a glass of water". They'd blow the glass, themselves, if they thought it would buy them some time. And, they do come by it honestly. You should see my lovely, hand-crafted ice cubes. I'm sure that added touch makes Zorak feel much better when he comes in, looking for us.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

New Game Plan

(Filed under: this is why we have nearly two decades to raise them...)

I'm getting a very low power paint ball set. When I'm on the balcony, talking with the Mortgage company or bank, I'm tagging anything that comes out that door.

When I get off the phone, everybody with paint on them gets sent to bed.

And splatters count, because that means you were close enough to intervene, but were most likely egging on targeted sibling.

Yep.

That's the new plan.

On the plus side, I think we've got everything now switched over to USAA, and we are so very glad to be just about done with Bank of America. The difference, thus far, has been amazing!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Not on Wednesdays!

We're not far from the dentist. We're not far from the music store. But the dentist and the music store are quite a trek from one another - the northeast corner of Huntsville down southwest, across the river, to the center of Decatur. And yet, in my head, Wednesdays are good days for scheduling appointments. In theory, we'll already be out of the house, so that's a good day. Maybe for other errands in the same town. But for the dentist? No. So, it was a long day.

This may have been the first visit we've had with no new cavities! The kids are completely un-impressed with the whole thing. I, however, am completely, idiotically ecstatic! We're talking irrationally tickled by such a little thing. It's been a good day, if only in my head.

We had lunch at a little blue plate diner in town before piano lessons. The kids have been dying to go. I'm not sure what's wrong with my children. Every time we eat at a restaurant where the food is mediocre, the service is questionable, and the cost is exorbitant (for the quality), they *RAVE* about it. Today was no exception, and they cannot wait to go back. Weee. (Erin, be ready. I'm sure they'll want to take the girls next time you all come out.)

After getting the car cleaned and filling up with gas, swinging by the bank, and the blowing off a couple of other stops we ought to have made, we got home just 15 minutes before Zorak today. Poor guy didn't get the homey welcome we shoot for. I've gotta go do the dishes. The kids are cleaning up ground zero erm, the playroom. We have no clue what to do for supper.

But it doesn't matter, because not only do the kids not have new cavities, but I remembered today to schedule the next dental checkup for the kids on a Tuesday.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Routine, Sweet Routine

The company and travel and more company of the last month has been so wonderful. Still, it's nice to be back in school (yeah, you can remind me of this is February, when all we want to do is sleep and take pictures of daffodils), and back to the daily grind of living.

We made it to church this morning, and managed to remember to take some of the hog we brought back from our trip down South. Pastor's going to try smoking it. Should be fantastic!

We'd planned to be productive when we returned home, but John's not feeling well, and I've been s-l-e-e-p-y, and the next things we knew, everybody who was still awake was already jammied up. So, we just played and snacked and read and snacked. Of course, come bedtime, the children (who had done little else but graze all day long) realized we hadn't eaten supper! So, of course, we had to have a "proper supper". (Could have fed them the same things they'd been eating all day, as long as it has been deemed An Actual Meal, they're good. Are my kids the only ones who do that?)

Of course, the rain stopped, but even that wasn't motive enough for us to get out there and work. It was just too nice looking out the window, doing nothing for a bit.

Tomorrow, we hit the library, switch out the laundry, and put our thinking caps back on for the week. Today truly was a day of rest. And togetherness.

I'd planned to be in bed long before now, but Zorak offered to fix up a little midnight steak and eggs for two. How could I resist? But it smells ready now, so I'm off!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

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

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

Summertime Summaries

It's summertime, and the frogs are out. The weather is hot 'n sticky. The kids are growing like weeds, and if the fertilizer I bought in the Spring (and then promptly neglected to put on the trees in time) wasn't still sitting in sealed bags, I'd swear they were eating the stuff.

We're back to school this week, and so far, that's going well. John still stresses over math, and loves history. James still cannot, for the life of himself, pay attention to case endings, but can re-write songs in different keys while he eats breakfast. Smidge is gung-ho to get into the groove, and I'm a bit excited to see what he loves and what he must wrestle with. Also thinkin' I should probably put in the rest of my orders at some point... Anyway, I'll post our plans and winners/losers sometime in the next few days. (I hope y'all are sharing yours! I'll have a spare minute sometime around Midnight, Friday, and plan to go frolick in other people's lesson plans for a bit.)

The dishwasher died, and although I've always appreciated it, I didn't realize how much it HELD. Er, holds. I could still, technically, fill it. But it takes three loads by hand to empty the thing. We must get it fixed, if only for the water conservation. As of right now, the boys still find the novelty of washing dishes by hand quite fascinating. All I've really had to do is stand there and chat with each boy, show him how it's done, and then chit-chat some more while he does it. Sometimes they let me rinse. Not like this is killing us -- one-on-one time, fun, learning, etc. -- but I'd like to get it fixed before the novelty does wear off and I'm left alone in the kitchen as soon as the tub fills with dirty dishes. Which is often. I swear, I suspect the boys are harboring orphans in their room somewhere.

And so, it's one thirty. I'm tahrd. Had more to say, but Zorak was shopping online and I started working on the socks I'm trying to crochet. (I may just run a string through the open end and tell the boys they are juju bags. We'll see.) The next thing I know, my eyes are watery and my head weighs a ton. I believe that's a sign that it's time for bed? Or that my brain is swelling and I need to see an optometrist. But we'll go with exhaustion for a thousand, Alex.

Night!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Campout, Complete

Shiloh Battlegrounds, the site of one of the turning point battles, a scene of horrific bloodshed, and an amazing story in the Civil War. This is where we hiked this weekend. We were fortunate to be able to listen in on a presentation about medicine at the last half of the 19th Century, although I wish we'd had the opportunity to attend more presentations. The Rangers who work there are a wealth of information and history, and do a beautiful job of maintaining that for posterity. I'm still processing much of the visit it in my head, so I won't go on about that. If, however, you ever have a chance to visit, please do so. Just, um, not in the summer. Gah. Hot.
Due to some pretty amazing miscalculations and lack of planning (thankfully, not on my part, this time! Woohoo!) we were only able to complete one hike. The terrain is easily accessible, but you must bring your own broad-shouldered man to carry you, if you so choose.

Or, you can arrange a convenient carriage to tote you about, as modeled by The World's Most Patient Baby.

The boys use the Buddy System pretty extensively in Scouts, so it's hard to get shots that don't have at least one other child (that I don't have permission to blog), and my scenic photography this trip was lacking a bit due to the carriage arrangement referenced above. However, it is beautiful, and powerful.

Still, we were all pretty glad to trudge back into camp at the end of the day. (Edited to add: Zorak was tired, not smug, in this photo. I didn't realize until I uploaded it that it might look a bit odd. So, you know, just touching base on that one.)

Just thinking about what it must have been like to march all the way from Indiana or Ohio, only to engage in battle upon arrival, absolutely boggles our pampered minds.

Humbled, thankful, and as always,
Kissing my babies!
~Dy

Who needs a bed?

We have got to get us one (three?) of these! Wow, what a fantastic addition to any outdoor space.

Of course, we wondered if we could make a hammock fairly easily.

Then we tried to figure out what kind of hammock would be best.

And THEN, I was talking with Melissa, who mentioned they have camping versions!

Well, let's just say that was several.

hours.

ago.

Zorak (not a camper) may not be as enthused as I am at this point.

But he hasn't seen this!

Still, maybe we should keep it simple, at first. I mean, who could resist this?


Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Home Again

We hung out the "gone fishing" sign, and then we went. Literally.

It's been a week of good food...

Beautiful scenery...

And relaxing time on the front porch...

Now, we're home. But I'll spare you any images of the laundry.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Mobile Blogging

Hi! Do I look all small & shiny? I`m blogging from the front porch at the Swamp! (`cuz we have cool friends who name their homes, too.)

But it`s not the Swamp that makes me look different. My guys gots me a preshuss for my birthday. (This is where I`d normally insert a picture or a link, but I haven`t figured out how to use this thing yet & I`m afraid I`d never get back to this page. So go look at the Verizon LG nv3. I`ll wait...)

Pretty cool, huh? Fortunately, it does not allow you to see me while I`m typing this. If you`ve seen Zoolander, though, picture the guys trying to get the files out of the computer. (pause) Yep, that`s it. It`s OK. I`m sure James will show me how it works soon.

I`m going to try to figure out the picture taking bit here next. Will update (or have James do it) later today.

Kiss those babies! (ksthzbbz?)
~Dy

Found it!

We found the upload cord! (Zorak found it. Right where we'd looked several times. Death by irony, I'm tellin' ya.) Anyway, there's no particular story to go with most of this. I've forgotten anything funny by now, too.

Here's Jase, looking incredibly tiny compared to the burn barrel. You can't see it in this shot, but to the left is the shooting bench, to the right is the burn pile (b/c some things just don't fit in the barrel), and to the far left is the carport-that-won't-die. The older boys saw the pictures from this series, and burst out laughing. *Now* they get why I make hillbilly jokes about ourselves, and not other people.
EmBaby planted something (we don't know what) as her tea garden (we can't find it), and she was very excited to drag each of us down to show us (it didn't do any good). However, I took the camera, and had fun watching her walk so daintily among the plants (this is James' corner of the herb/tea garden) in her wee bare feet and her ratty-headed hair. Which, for the record, we do brush daily. But sweat, and rambling, seem to do quite a number on baby fine hair. She looks feral ten minutes after she leaves the front porch. The bare feet probably don't help much, either, but she's made it a verb -- "Can I barefoot?" -- and I can't say no.

Me-Tae gave the Littles their very own pots to grow things in. They had a blast putting them together. And no, we weren't gardening in the dead of night. The camera's still wonky and wouldn't take non-blurry pictures without the flash. So, for your enjoyment, Zombie Gardening:

The Zombie Slayer, with his wooden stake? And, our dying tomato plants in the background. But don't look at those. Look at the beautiful green railings, and the non-child-killing, up-to-code pickets! Swanky, huh?

The infamous Vomitor 2000!

Really, this is a good summary. There are the normal things, the daily things. Kids forget that you really shouldn't wear the same shirt into town that you wore down to the creek. The laundry will. not. stop. I usually don't have any clue what we'll have for supper when Zorak calls to say he's on his way home (hence, the call/warning that I'm rapidly running out of time to figure it out!) And there just aren't enough hours in the day.

I suppose we could get more done. But then we wouldn't have pictures like these, and the memories that go with them. So, tonight it's leftovers and clean undies. Tomorrow, will bring chores and joys of its own. And I wouldn't trade this for anything.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Gates.

Gates are good. We have them on the balcony, now. Now, it does not matter so much that we do not have stairs. At least our beloved friends will not think we are trying to Off their small children. That's always a good thing, not just for the friendship, but for the small children, as well.

And the gates? They ROCK. Someday, I'll find the upload cord. (Shortly after I give up and buy a new one, so I should just do that Thursday, huh?) Then there will be photos. The gates are hung at the stairwell openings on the balcony. They provide a comfortable landing zone for those coming up the (eventual) stairs, and swing completely back to lie flush with the railing when open. They have awesome stops, so they don't go all wonky and lop-eared in five years, from being slammed shut by running children, and a support to prevent them from dangling awkwardly if the children get the wild idea to hang on them. (We give a whole new meaning to "child proofing the home", don't we?)

They're designed to blend perfectly with the picketed railings, and, since it was Zorak who did it, it worked, of course. Just fantastic. Now, if it'll not rain for a few days, we can get them stained!

We had company today, a lovely time. The kids and I worked our tails off this morning, getting the house out of the Condemnable Zone, and then kicked back and enjoyed the visit.

We did a little lesson planning. That's exciting stuff!

We watched The Princess Bride together, piled on the beanbags.

We had bean soup for supper, because nothing says, "I love you" quite like beans.

That didn't sound right.

But Zorak knows what I mean.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Pictures!

And they're stuck on the camera!

Got the software, and now we've lost the upload cord. Again. That settles it. I'm asking for an Executive Assistant for my birthday. Other than that I can't keep track of my own eyeballs, it's been SUCH a great week!

The mower, which I will refer to from now on as The Sea Bear (from Spongebob - "maybe he just doesn't like you"), is running. It will even start for me, as long as Zorak is on the premises. We mowed and mowed and mowed. I even mowed things that haven't been mowed before, just because I was afraid if I stopped, I'd never mow again.

We sucked it up and cleared the upstream side of the culvert. If it should now rain on a Sunday morning, we won't have to miss church out of fear that we'll be flooded off the property. Go us. (It only took two years! We're getting better!) It was pretty gross, and I loathe people who fling their trash out their car windows as they whiz along the street. Where do they think the trash ends up? Is there some roadside vortex that they think will suck it up and transport it to the dump? No. No, there's not. There's a little wind, maybe, and some momentum to overcome. But eventually it just lands, right there, on the side of the road, on somebody's property. Gah.

I'm sure I've mentioned it before, but I can't get over how much the kids are loving the tire swing. Unfortunately, they're also sick to their stomachs at least three times a day. Zorak and I can hardly stand to watch them spinning, spinning, spinning. Knowing that two of the four on the swing have a propensity for volatile reactions, there's no way we'd get on there with them. But siblings are trusting. Or forgetful. Either way, they all have fun together, then stumble back to the house to lie down for a bit before nabbing a bite to eat and heading right back out to do it again. (Yeah, I know. It's like they're *trying* to make it happen.)

We finally put new seed down in the front yard. Me-Wa had mentioned that lime will do magical things to clay soil. So, when we tilled in the leaves, we sprinkled a thin layer of lime, and whaddya know, Magical Things Happened! We have *dirt* in the front yard now! It stays soft, and dirt-like. There is hope that this year, we may grow something other than child-killing clover and dandelions around the perimeter of the clay moat. (Though the dandelions are welcome, the clover is not. And I'd love a break from the trekking in of the clay on the feet.)

Winter garden stuff is going in. Company is coming next week. (Wonderful Neighbors from Maryland are bringing our Wonderful Future Daughters-in-Law for a visit!) And...

WE GOT A NEW CAR!!! Well, new-to-us, new. It's an '03 Suburban, and it's wonderful. It starts on the first try, every time. And the a/c is cold all the way to the back. And the road noise is so significantly reduced that Zorak has started speaking to us on drives, again, now that he can hear. There's not a can of starter fluid anywhere near that thing. Ah, it feels So. Incredibly. Good. to know that the next time somebody hacks off something, or inflames something, or just rips something wide open, we can get to the ER before they loose all their blood. Yes, indeedy. I am blessed beyond measure.

Like I said, it's been a great week.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Firefly and Foliage

First, Firefly. That's pretty much how I've spent my free time in the wee hours of the night this week. How did I ignore that gem up to this point? How fun!

And then, Foliage. After a few weeks of relatively blissful, personally comfortable (yet botanically terrifying) dry weather, the rain finally came, rejuvenating both the Cambodian-style jungle, as well as the humidity. Well, *and* the meadows. Pretty much everything. We can't breathe in the humidity, and I swear you can actually *see* things growing, which is a little creepy for born and raised Desert dwellers. But then again, the oak trees above the balcony don't look like they're about to burst into flame, taking the house down in the conflagration. Eh. It's sort of a toss-up. In all, we're thankful for the rain, even with the accompanying humidity. Four years ago, I'm not sure we'd have said that!

Zorak's still battling the mower. He took it in to the mower shop last week. This was big, as he's not one for taking things in when he could do it, himself. However, he was stumped. The thing's getting spark, fuel, and air. It's got power. But it just. won't. start. He explained it to them. They looked at him with that semi-patronizing look professionals reserve for non-professionals, but he understood. It doesn't make any sense, at all. A week and $65 later, they called. They're stumped, too.

He kept at it, though, and has come further down the road of diagnosis. Today, he picked up another part for the mower. (At some point, we'll have a new mower, altogether! Kind of exciting.) Right now, though, we're just hoping for one that works, before the rest of the land gets reclaimed by the lush jungle foliage and we start losing children in there. The new part looks promising! Let it rain!

Kiss those babies,
~Dy

Happy 4th of July!

I would post pictures, but I haven't taken any all month. (How awful is that? I'll just leave three blank pages in the photo album and tell the kids to imagine what that month was like.)

James looks SO much better! He's very thankful, and we're looking forward to getting our ducks in a row for future incidents.

The Littles are all well, really. They don't seem to realize that Summer isn't the bestest season in the South. Silly children. They go out to catch frogs and swing on the tire swing and look for snacks in the garden. They play in the little wading pool in the front yard (classy, I know, but nobody can see us, and the back yard drops too many things to keep it clean). They eat otter pops and ice cream and take afternoon naps. Actually, I like Summer the way the kids do it!

We had a Great Adventure yesterday that I hoped would end in me going on and on about a new transportation tool. But, the word "adventure" is so stinkin' ambiguous, isn't it? So, I won't go on and on about it. Let's just say, it was another indicator of just how very differently Engineers and Non-Engineers go about doing things. Thankfully, the world needs both kinds. And nobody was harmed in the making of this Adventure. So. There's that. Maybe next week, we'll have news to report on that front?

Today we're going to a Tea Party. Or not. We haven't quite found the time to sit down and hammer out the plan. I've been going on and on about the Huntsville Tea Party. Zorak chimes in occasionally about the Decatur Tea Party. And the kids just want fireworks, regardless of where we go. My plan today is to get it figured out before noon, so we don't end up with option D, none of the above! :-P How will you be celebrating our Nation's Birthday? What are you most thankful for in this celebration?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Rest is Overrated, Anyway

I should have cleaned last night.

James exploded. Head-to-toe, he is covered in hives. Or hive-like things. Nobody's sure. At first, we thought it was just mosquito bites. He had a handful of welts on his waistline. They looked pretty much just like the bites we all get from being in the garden or the yard. So, we put a little After Bite on them, he got dressed, and went to Scouts.

When Zorak picked up the boys from Scouts, he said the welts had absolutely blossomed in the hour or so they were there. Now, I don't know if he exploded after the meeting -- between dismissal and when he hit the parking lot? -- or if it happened during the meeting and nobody noticed (or felt the need to call a parent with a friendly, "Hey, your child is blistering up like he's gone ten rounds with stinging nettle and blister beetles. You might want to come get him.") I have no idea what took place. This is the first time we've dropped them off without one of us staying, and this happens. Argh. His face was swollen and covered in what looked like dry blisters or just big welts, and not an inch on his neck was visible beneath the welts. His arms looked positively scarred. I cannot fathom how nobody noticed.

We figured, OK, this is an allergic reaction to... Something. Gave him Benadryl, put him in the shower, then tanked him up on water. No improvement. More Benadryl. More water. Didn't get better, but he didn't get worse. He had no fever, no swelling other than his cheeks, no fatigue, no cramps, no trouble breathing or swallowing. At that point, just a nasty, welty-looking rash. Get a good night's rest, and certainly you'll feel better in the morning.

Well, just pass that Lousy Parenting Trophy this way, please. He awoke this morning looking worse than before. And by then, he was fatigued and tired and starting to look a little puffy. I threw him in a cool baking soda bath and called the doc, who made a spot for us on the instant. Juggle-call-finagle, and we were out the door, (thinking, as we toodled down our little farm roads that this is one of those time it'd be great to live in town. With neighbors right-there. Ah, well.)

The doc said, "Looks like he is allergic to... something." (Good to know we were on the right track, at least.) Got scripts for anti-histamines and steroids, cracked 'roid jokes in the waiting room, came home and collapsed. That did the trick. Two hours later, he looked markedly better.

Two hours ago, he relapsed. Blew right the hell up. Started a low-grade fever. And started wheezing, because evidently the whole thing lacked that little something extra that really makes for a fun adventure.

The doc said he'd meet us at the ER tonight if James' breathing gets worse (or the other list of symptoms that make the ER The Place To Be). Otherwise, he'll see us first thing in the morning.

Cool compresses helped a bit. So did a massive water push. There's nothing left we can give him, though, and that's pretty darned frustrating. He's not wheezing now, and when we put him to bed, his breathing was back to normal, but you can tell he's wiped out.

Zorak went to the market to get snacks. We'll tag-team tonight to keep an eye on him. But we're hoping that tomorrow, it will all be a weird fluke. And then, we're going to nap like narcoleptics at a relaxation seminar.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy