Blogging Around

Amy blogged a "Year of Blogging" the other day, posting the first line from the first entry of each month of the year. I thought that was fun, so figured I'd do it here. But first, a few things -

KathyJo has mastered the wheat-free loaf. Holy Cow, it's exquisite. And if she doesn't cough up a recipe soon, I may have to offer to birth her next child for her in exchange. Because I think even Zorak might eat that one!

Also, we watched Talladega Nights last night, and I've got to ask if anybody else who has seen the movie noticed a striking resemblance between Carley, and another Hooters Girl, erm, blogger we know and love (even if she doesn't blog regularly)...



And no, it's not a personality thing at all - just the physical appearance. Our M. is actually one of the sweetest, funniest ladies I've ever had the honor of knowing. We can't hate her because she's beautiful. (But seriously, she does look like Carley Bobby. It's eerie.) ;-)

OK, and now, A Year of Blogging, 2006:
Jan:
We're moving too quickly to stop and reflect.

Feb:
There's such a fine, fine line between a groove and a rut, isn't there?

Mar:
I think it's gone.

Apr:
There's no sensation quite like sauntering up to a service counter and saying, "We are doing this mongo project that's way over our heads, and in the process we've taken something apart that we aren't certain how to put back together."

May:
Laney and I have talked about it.

June:
Not actually fasting from the internet.

July:
Hello, hello!

Aug:
Well, first things first, we managed to get to the ENT's office on time, which is, in and of itself, a miracle.

Sept:
"Look, Mom," James calls to me from beside Emily, who was perched on a pillow, "A plate of laughter with a side of smiles!"

Oct:
OK, I am never doing that again.

Nov:
I had no idea trick-or-treating began around four!

Dec:
Andrew Lang's Fairy Tales - in their favorite colors!

I know, technically, December's is a sentence fragment. I was going to fudge that one, but the next three are also fragments. It seems 2006 was an interesting year. However it came out in words, it was good. Definitely good.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The Makings of A Stellar Day

"Mom, do you hear that?" We listen for a second, and hear music coming from the nursery. EmBaby has turned on her seahorse light and is singing along with it.

"Can I read a little more?" The child who, until just before Christmas, had no desire to read. Ever. Not if he could help it.

"My wart's dead!" OK, that one's just good stuff. Two kids have been slathered in castor oil, and now both are wart-free. (Though John's looks like there's another wave of the stuff coming up to die. Still, this is good news.)

"Can I teach it to you now?" *goofy grin* I. Love. That.

"Mmmm, this bread is good." Suckup. But I'll take it.

"What can we do to help you, Mom?" Bury me now. I can die happy.

"You want song? Me make soooong!" Smidge, who has graduated from Elfish and is now in his broken-english phase. So happy. And a great song, too!

Granted, today's not over, but it's a start. A beautiful, much-appreciated start. (I told ya yesterday was a preparation day!)

What makes a stellar day for you?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

What A Day

Two recipe disasters in a row! I'm on a roll.

Thought it'd be nice to have fresh potato bread to go with supper tonight, so I whipped up a full-size batch of the stuff, then split the liquid in half and made one loaf w/ wheat flour and one loaf wf. Really, it looks beautiful. It has that delightful potato bread texture, and it smells delicious. Unfortunately, my bright idea to leave the skins on, well, wasn't quite so bright. Just for future reference, the skins don't bake up so nicely in bread. They don't affect the taste adversely, but they produce these awful, shiny dark spots in the bread. It's not a healthy sheen, at all, and it took me a bit to figure out what those nasty spots were. *shudder* Oh, well, perhaps they'll toast up okay. A little peanut butter and honey can cover a multitude of baking sins.

Most of us still feel like hammered dog poop, so we aren't setting the world on fire at the moment. The house gets tidied, the linens get washed, and that fairly wears me out. In spite of that, though, we're managing to do school pretty well. We're hitting about 95% each day, and are rotating the 5% we don't manage to get. So far, we're ahead of my beloved schedule by a full two days, though, even factoring in the stray 5%.

Zorak called this morning to ask if I'd been out to the road yet. (I hadn't.) He informed me we need a new mailbox. *sigh* I had forgotten about the joys of drunk teenagers on a dull winter evening, particularly out in the boonies. I guess there's just not much to do but vandalize mailboxes while you're waiting for your buddy with the ID to get more beer. Well, I hope they enjoy the concrete reinforced one we'll be putting up. There were Christmas cards strewn on the roadside, crumpled, wet, and dirty. That torqued me off pretty badly. Not to mention, mailboxes have gone up in price quite a bit! Oy!

Tomorrow we've got to get to the library. We won't be heading in to share the crud, but we do need to slip some books into the box and then run before they catch us. It's been a while since we've all been healthy enough to leave, and Zorak doesn't go into the town with the library, so the books are very, very delinquent. The library will be glad to have their books back, and I will be glad to be back on non-compounding terms with my late fees.

And really, that's about all I've got the stamina to put together. Some days are stellar, and some days... well, the prepare you to fully enjoy the stellar days. Today was a prep day. But that's okay, maybe tomorrow will be stellar!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Recipe No-Go

Well, I had to try. The Hillbilly Housewife has a recipe for egg and cheese pudding. I thought that sounded like a wonderful, hearty, warm lunch!

Evidently, I thought wrong.

Smidge did try one honest bite, but then pronounced, "No me like dis! No good." (Ah, well, break it to me gently, there, kiddo.)

James said the flavor is, "OKAY, but, mentally, it's the texture of bread pudding, which just doesn't go with these flavors. It's not you. It's not... bad, really. It's just me, mentally, I can't do it." (Oh, he is SO my kid.)

John ate all of it without complaining, but quietly disappeared when I offered him seconds. (Of course, when you grab someone by the shoulders and act like someone from a Dickens novel, "YOU liked it, though, didn't you? YOU thought it was good? Would you like MORE?" Yeah, that'll make even the most stalwart among us bolt for the nearest exit.)

Alright, mark this one off the list for inclusions. FWIW, I do agree about the texture and consistency. I'm an American, and as such, my puddings should be sweet. I get nauseaus just reading about the puddings in the Master & Commander books. The flavor was great, and as a quiche, or just a basic caserole (perhaps with pasta instead of bread?) it'd probably be good. But as it stands, it should have tasted like cinnamon and nutmeg, or maybe apples. I kept that thought to myself, though, so as not to skew their views of it.

On the plus side, Zorak's lunch for tomorrow is ready to go! (Maybe he'll like it? Don't worry, I'll pack extra other items, just in case.)

Kiss those babies!

First Day Back to School

No pictures. Mid-year pictures don't count. (Heck, I haven't even managed to mail out the Christmas pictures yet - school photos? Probably not 'til college, folks.)

However, it was a pretty good day. The boys were surprisingly easy to guide and teach. Zorak spent his day of mourning off hunting for deer, so the kids and I dove into our studies. By the time he returned home for lunch, we were done with most of the stuff and taking a well-enjoyed game break.

School Day Highlights:

James - loving Delta. Yay. Thrilled to have "designated free reading time" included in the homeschool schedule. (He loves to read - reads in the morning, before he gets up, and reads at bedtime, as well. But he just doesn't quite understand that if you want to go read a book during the day, go read a book. If I'm reading a book, he'll come sit with me and read one of his own, and if I suggest it, he's all over it. But for some reason, he needed a slot set aside just for "free reading". Somehow, seeing "30 minutes free reading" on his schedule of things to do was like getting a "Pass Go, Collect $200" card. Huge highlight of the day.)

John - really able to read his Latin book independently now, and he is so thrilled. So he read the Latin lessons today. So proud! Also, I gave him a Reader to work through, along with his very own checklist to record his progress. This step meant a lot to him (more than I'd figured when I put it together), and he cannot wait to fill in the "I read all ten stories myself!" certificate. This is such good stuff.

James lost another tooth today. John is still in awe of the process, convinced he'll never lose a tooth of his own. He didn't ask for this one, though, so that's good.

Miss Emily awoke this morning with a raging case of pink eye. So, back to Mom's pharmacy. Three treatments with that stuff and she looked a WHOLE lot better, although she's still fairly miserable. Even with the goop, she spent most of her day standing and dancing. She's begun cruising comfortably the past week, and will walk all over the place if you give her a finger to hold on to. It won't be long before she's walking all over the place (and bruised just as thoroughly).

Smidge, so far, has avoided the strep, the pink eye, and the ick. I don't know how much longer his luck will hold, but hopefully Long Enough.

And on that note, I'm not going to push my luck any more than I already have. So, I am off. A good night's rest, and an early start in the morning, and we'll keep moving in this general direction.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

1st Quarter of '07, 3rd Quarter of 06-07...

Whatever you'd call it. Let's just go with January, '07. There, that sounds right. I haven't quite figured out where our school years end and pick back up again. We don't break the boys' studies into yearly chunks for progression. They work until they're done, then we move on to the next book.

This method works great on paper, but it does make things a bit wonky with scheduling (which I do in abundance, and then promptly set aside once our normal routine emerges, rendering all the scheduling irrelevent). I don't do the scheduling for them, though. I do it for me. For several reasons: even if I do ditch it, the planning gives me a general idea which direction we need to be heading; it helps clarify which books are gathering dust and which need to be beefed up a bit; I enjoy it. It's fun. Even more fun now that we've found the electric pencil sharpener. Mmmm. I do love a freshly sharpened pencil and a blank sheet of paper. WOOHOO!

For daily scheduling, I use the auto-fill daily homework sheet from Chart Jungle. Ten minutes in the evening before bed gives me a leg up on the next day's plan. Think of it this way, if you need to be somewhere in the morning, and you *know* your car battery is going to be dead in the morning, wouldn't you plug in the charger before you went to bed? (Assuming, of course, that you all have chargers, and not just jumper cables, like normal people, right?) So. My battery isn't good with quick starts. We like the daily forms.

The rest of my planning, I do with Donna Young's Quarterly Planners. Just a general outline, in 9 week increments. As I pointed out to the boys, it's paper, not stone. But those wonderful grids make me happy! The boys don't ever have to see them - the pages go into a binder.

A happy, gridded, filled-in, organized binder of glee.

My glee is bound. My pages are printed. My schedule is in place.

The kids are asleep. The menu is written up.

And... we just found out Zorak's off work tomorrow. :-D (The humor being that we usually take off school when Daddy's home. It's easier on everyone. All that work, when I could have gone to bed early!)

G'nite!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

New Year, 2007

We did not need strep. Gotta call the doc in the morning and swear on a stack of prescription pads that we are not living in a festering cesspool. Honest. And it's John, too, poor, goopy-eyed, sinus-laden John. It just hasn't been this kid's winter. However, he's handling it quite well...

He's been chillin' on the couch with hot tea, his fuzzy robe, pirate slippers, and a good movie. Other than the fever, painful throat, and chills, not a bad way to pass the evening, really.

It's been a low-key week here. Lots of time spent together, learning new skills...
(Leaning 101 - evidently, it helps.)


(Motor Skills - Love the Tongue Of Concentration, there.)


(Basic Mechanics - better Thomas than my phone!)


The boys got a kick out of telling Smidge at supper that he'd better eat up because Zorak and I weren't going to feed them again until next year. He didn't quite get it, but they cracked each other up. (Sometimes it's good to have someone who always "gets" your sense of humor.) We'd thought about letting them stay up, but they were more than ready for bed by eight, so we tucked them in with the promise of "celebratory ice cream" tomorrow, and fireworks once the rain backs off a bit.

And on that note,

May 2007 bring you food to nourish your body...


Love to nourish your heart...


And the joy of anticipation with each new adventure!


Happy New Year!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Oh, the Humidity!

97% right now. Oy.

I still haven't adjusted to the humidity level here. In New Mexico, if the humidity hits 20%, you wouldn't even think of painting. It'd never dry properly! Here, if we got down to 20% humidity, I'd let the kids starve for 24 hours straight while I painted every flat surface we have. Maybe even trim. I might even paint things that don't need painting, just in case.

So, it's been a quiet weekend here. We're missing church again because the kids haven't quite shaken the snot monster yet. They aren't miserable, but I am every time I hear *that sound* and have to shout, "DON'T SUCK IT IN!" And the little ones? They've burned a month's worth of calories going rounds in the Ultimate Toddler Fighting Championship each time we need to wipe their wee noses or, God forbid, use the snot sucker. That alone is worth not subjecting fellow congregants to. And so, we are cloistered safely at home with a full array of tissue choices and plenty of water. It's good.

And today is the last day of 2006. Man, I remember when I thought 1999 would *never* get here. And now... well, obviously it made it. And thar it went! No desire to get reflective. It's been a good year with plenty of reflection, the occasional bout of wallowing, and a lot of plans brought to fruition. I have no idea what we're doing, but it seems to be working, and honestly, I'm afraid I'll screw it up if I try to pinpoint just what it is. We're going to head into 2007 with the general philosophy,

Don't mess with what works, even if you're not sure why it's working.

Just smile and nod, folks. Smile. And. Nod.

And kiss those babies!
~Dy

Renovation Tidbits

So, it's official. We have begun our One Room Per Weekend plan, in which we finish off the Niggling Bits (the ones that give me hives when I think about not having finished them ten years from now). I guess you could also call it our Mental Health Insurance plan.

This weekend is "The School Room". (If you remember the "before" pictures, it was the one with "Security by Georgia Pacific" in the captions.) Aside from baseboard, which will have to wait for another payday, the School Room will be c-o-m-p-l-e-t-e-l-y done by Sunday night. Zorak put up the trim around the door today. I figured out what to do with the window treatment for that door. The window and door trim gets painted tomorrow, curtains hung, shelving installed. We'll bring up the old kitchen table to use as a puzzle table/private workspace, and I'll do a little last minute tidying and sorting of the paperwork. Yay.

I'd still like to put some quotes on the walls, but am not sure what I'd like to use. There are so many good ones. I don't want anything serious, or somber. I really loved one that was shared on the boards this week:

Life is tough. It's tougher if you're stupid.

What a great quote. Zorak thinks that may be a John Wayne quote. Anybody know?

Oh, I'm glad there are others who love pocket doors! We do, too! We put them in the bathrooms, and WOW - nobody gets injured in the constant chaos that is a six-person-one-bath home! The master bath is so small, that the pocket door really saves a significant portion of the space in there, as well. (It'll be nice when we get that one finished.) We also put one in the laundry closet in the hallway - no bruised and battered foreheads for little guys bolting down the hall on laundry day! Yippee! We'd have put them in everywhere, if there'd been enough wall space to do so. And we did contemplate putting one there, at the end of the hall, even. When we bought the place, the hall had doors (standard, not pocket) closing off the sleeping quarters from both the living room and the foyer, but the house was so closed-in and creepy that we threw everything wide open. Now it feels a leetle nekky, so we've re-thought the door at the end of the hall. :-)

And yep, we're vaulting the ceiling in the living and dining areas. (Melora, I may take your suggestion and dub that phase the "Very Interesting Project" - that's code for "Really Bad Idea", isn't it?) The house has 8' ceilings. They feel somewhat cave-like and constricting after living in homes and apartments with 9' ceilings. It's stunning what a difference a foot makes. Because of the actual structure, we can't reasonably raise the entire roof, and it'd be cost prohibitive to add a second floor at this point (thus, raising the ceiling in the process!) So, with a little math, a little trusswork, and a lit-tle. more. patience, we can give the living space a better feel, make a clearer delineation between the living and kitchen spaces, and create some awesome architectural interest to the Basic Box. Plus, when we add the den, it'll tie the spaces together with a smoother transition, so the den won't look like an add-on.

But I try not to think about those things. They make me whiney and despondent. For now, I will think of The School Room - and how there are no more things to be done there this year. Or there will not be after this weekend. (Baseboard doesn't count, because of the bullnosed beading - it's all one continuous room, as far as the baseboard is concerned. Really. Just, go with me on that.)

It's very possible that we may finish this house soon enough that Smidge retains no permanent recollections of The Way It Was!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Post-Holiday Daze

I awoke this morning at some awful hour to the sound of Zorak's phone playing the Radetzsky March. That sounds like something out of a horror film when it wakes you from a dead sleep. I stumbled into the living room, prepared to do battle with an evil clown and its demonic calliope, only to find my beloved preparing to head out to go hunting. Really, a good old alarm wouldn't serve the same purpose? So now, he's out the door, and I'm sitting here, a little dazed, wondering if I should just go back to bed, or do something productive.

We're all a bit dazed, actually, in spite of the fact that we've cut our turkey intake with a good deal of ham. We're full to the top of good things, new things, and things in general. We're floating in an eddy created by the swirling of necessities and luxuries coming together. (Yes, I know, everyone should be so fortunate. That we acknowledge our blessings, though, doesn't make us any better at handling them.) I don't know about the others, but I'm ready to take the tree and all the trimmings down NOW. I'm ready to get back to the business of schooling and building and preparing for Spring (which will come far too soon for me to be ready for it!) I'm done. I've had my fill. And next year, I think we're going to put non-blinking lights on the tree.

I also think that when we vault the living room ceiling, we're going to add a pocket door at the beginning of the hallway. There's a lot of cleaning I could be doing while everyone sleeps, but the light and noise will drift straight down the hall and before I could make any actual progress, all the little ones will be awake. Yes, a door would be handy.

And, as if on cue, John's up. Why is he up? He's never up this early. Well, he looks happy, and says he's hungry. Time for the day to begin!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Sometimes You Just Can't...

...buy locally.

We try. We really do. But sometimes it's just. not. in the cards.

Seven years ago, Zorak ventured into a Christian bookstore to buy me a nice Bible for Christmas. He explained to the saleslady that he's not a believer, but his wife is, and she's very into study, theology, doctrine and history, and he'd like to find something nice. She knew "just the thing", and he came home with a woman's recovery bible! (Because, obviously, any woman who'd marry a non-believer must have been into drugs and prostitution? What in the world???)

Fast-forward to this year. Zorak would like to give me a copy of the Vulgate. He's heard me mention this, and knows it's one of my goals to master Latin to the point that I can enjoy reading the Scriptures in Latin. So, off he goes to the local Christian bookstore, where the following conversation with Bookstore Lady (BL) ensues:

Z: Hi, do you have any Latin Bibles?

BL: Any what?

Z: Latin Bibles.

BL: LATIN Bibles?

Z: Yes.

BL: LATIN?

Z: Yes. Do you carry Latin Bibles?

BL: *blank stare*

Z: You know, the language? Latin?

BL: OH, LATIN. Um... no.

*insert general awkward pause*

BL: I don't think they've ever translated it into Latin.

He left. He bit his tongue and left. And then he couldn't share this story with me until Christmas. But I don't have to wait to share it. Even though my book hasn't arrived yet. Hmpf.

Although, honestly, I am nowhere near competent enough to read it yet. This was on my "one of these days" lists. Technically, I'd asked for a Kitchen Aid Mixer, because making all this bread with a wooden spoon is KILLING my arm, but he wanted to get me something just-for-fun. So, in keeping an honest girl honest, I broke out my Latin (which has been woefully ignored this month) and got back to writing my declensions. He sat down to watch me for a couple of minutes and then suddenly, this panic-stricken look came over this face.

"Oh, this isn't like if you said you wanted to lose weight this year, and then I went and bought you a treadmill, is it?"

*giggle* No, honey. It's not. But even if you had, I'd love you for it. I may not use it, but I'd love you for it. ;-)

And in other gift news...

The boys LOVE their Gamecube. We're allowing free rein for as much of the school break as possible, just in the hope that the stunningly addictive newness will wear off a bit. Then it will go into a more orderly slot. Today, I noticed the boys were getting a bit twitchy with one another, and so I set the timer and we turned the thing off at the *ding*. The boys dispersed to do other things, occasionally meandering back in to ask if they could play one. small. game. (No.)

James brought me a handful of coins and said, "Um, Mom, if I give you... *counting* um, 60 cents, will you let me play a game?"

I had to chuckle. "No," but then I had to ask if that was a bribe or just good old-fashioned entreprenurial thinking. It was a bribe, but after I described what a bribe is, he quietly returned his coins to his piggy bank and wandered off to do something else.

Really, though, they've all handled it very graciously. They let Smidge play and don't ride him about the fact that he goes the wrong way most of the time. He's moving and he's part of the team - he's happy. They don't throw spiky turtle bits at him or point out that he loses every time. They cheer one another on, and take their own hits with good humor. As long as that continues, I'm okay with this thing.

Miss Emily has a Dino Drop-N-Whatever. It's a ball thing with tunnels and lights. Although she loves it without the lights, so hey, that's fewer batteries I have to keep track of. Yay. She is one very happy little girl!

And, now that it's taken me three days to get around to posting about Christmas (I did post this morning, but we had a one-second power outage just as I hit "publish" and the computer went down), I'm going to go play for a bit. Zorak wants to race at Waluigi Stadium!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Merry Christmas!

We had a busy and wonderful Christmas Eve. Miss Terry convinced Zorak to let the children open a few gifts when we visited with them this evening. All the small ones have been snuggled and read to, tucked in (again and again and again). I'd have posted pictures, but I left the camera card home to, um, guard the printer...

It's now five minutes to four. Everything is wrapped. Everything is placed just so. Everything is put away and cleaned and ready for tomorrow. Everything is just perfect, when you are eight and six and four and nearly-one.

I can hardly wait for morning!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Curse You, Dough Boy!

Miss Emily was sound asleep in my arms. Her weight had settled fully into the pull of gravity. I probably could have tossed her into the air and she wouldn't have stirred. And just as I began to think it might be safe to move, that awful Pillsbury flaky biscut commercial came on. The one with the poor doughboy trudging through, what is that, the Alps? Just to bring us flaky biscuits in a can? Isn't there an easier way? Ah, but it's not him, per se, it's the music. The Ride of the Valkyries comes through the speakers, straight to her ears. Without moving any other muscles, her eyes pop. wide. open.

Game over.

She loves that piece.

This is probably why I normally read instead of watching TV at night. Where is the clicker, anyway?

So, the TV is off now. She's back to sleep. The boys are down. Zorak is down in the basement, doing something constructive. I'm trying to pep talk myself into doing some sewing before heading to bed. (It may, or may not work. Honestly? It's all dependent upon whether Zorak comes up in time to watch a movie with me. Without commercials.)

We got a lot done today. Just a little baking and cleaning left to do tomorrow. That's a nice feeling. Oh, and groceries. OK, and I guess I should admit now that when I bought stocking stuffers, I didn't get any for Miss Emily. She's not getting an entire sock full of sweets (can you imagine the contact high, alone?). She'd only eat tape and batteries, which is what we're putting in the boys' stockings. So, what do you put in a stocking for an almost-one-year old? She's got to have *something* or the boys will forever hold a grudge against Santa (and, by default, me, once the cat's wholly out of the bag). I'm tellin' ya, this is why we only have them one at a time. The learning curve is STEEP.

Ooo, he's up! And he comes bearing what looks like a toy shelf, ready to be assembled. WooHoo! (He also said he'd turn the plans into a .jpg so I can blog the directions. Yay!) I'm gonna go watch a movie! erm, um, sew... and watch a movie. :-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The End of the Day

It's almost one o'clock, and do you know why I'm up? I'm afraid to go to bed.

Zorak's got Baby Girl in bed with him, and if I try to slip in, either she's going to sense my presence and be wide-awake and ready to play, or he's going to roll over on her and then she'll be wide-awake and angry.

Smidge is asleep on the couch - t-shirt, skivvies, one sock, drooling all over the place. He's like a miniature frat boy over there.

John's in the guest room. The pink eye has now spread to the other eye, and... well, ew.

That pretty much leaves me with Smidge's bed (a toddler bed with a crib mattress, not such a good idea for anyone over three feet tall), and John's bed (twin size, but a foam mattress, not such a good idea for anyone over, say, 60 pounds). Indecision has imobilized me, and so, I sit and type, sip coffee, and wait for somebody to wake up and free up a spot for me. Maybe I'll grab a throw and crash on the futon? Maybe tomorrow night *I'll* be the first one to bed and won't have to worry about where everyone else lands? (Yeah, I like that idea.)

We got the house ready for company, and then our company never materialized. No phone call, either. Part of me wonders if Zorak wrote that on the calendar in an effort to get me motivated before the Actual Last Minute. Well, if he did, it worked. I even had time to formulate a plan on the couch - fabric paint. Haul it onto the porch, and turn the kids loose with fabric paint! Wouldn't that make an awesome couch? (Oh, stop. Zorak looked at me like that, too.)

Tomorrow we have to wrap Daddy's gifts. (Right, because we couldn't have done it during the week, while he was at work. I know.) Finish tidying the house and start the baking. We love the baking part. I've also got to dig up my favorite Christmas skirt and pray that either it fits, or that I can find my squisher and make it fit. Everybody else has their Christmas outfits ready to go.

Oh, and sewing - TONS of sewing. James and I are making a Thomas pillowcase for Smige. Then I need to sew the barstool covers (in going with the Biggest Visual Impact theme), and the curtains for the guest room. And stockings. We need two more stockings. The boys have made it clear that Balto MUST have one. And while I sew it, I will think of KathyJo, who said, "I don’t particularly enjoy the process, but I enjoy doing special things for you boys that make you happy." I do. And it will. It will make them very happy.

Ah, I think the futon is calling me.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Woops!

So, if you throw the couch cushion covers into the wash, they'll come out a LOT cleaner than you can get the couch iteself with your Little Green Machine.

I wonder if anyone would believe us when we said it's supposed to be a two-tone design?

Yeah, it's time to start saving for a couch. Thankfully, this one is beyond repair, anyway. I just didn't need to go and make it any uglier than it already was.

Dy

Home Remodel, Holiday Melee

If you were to give a home renovation a difficulty factor to add into the general level of confusion, living in the home during the process counts for a point, at least. Living there with children would certainly weigh heavily, as well. How about the holidays?

I think at that point, you just call it good and aim for finishing the race. Later. As in, next year.

Zorak and I sat down this morning to go through our To-Do list on the house. We listed all the little things, down to restretching the carpets after we've got baseboards down. We came up with a plan, and it felt good.

OK, so we'll mark the things we'd like to do before Christmas. Let's be realistic and just shoot for Biggest Visual Impact. Then, starting in January, we will take one room per weekend and finish it out completely. All those little, niggling things, like touch-up paint and closet trim. At the end (we're hoping by Easter, perhaps), we will be done. Done, as in, "We could sell this house as it stands and not take a loss" done. Ooohhhh. Cool.

We were feeling SO together, and SO on top of things. Then it hit me - aren't we having company today? You know, as in, it's-11:00-and-we're-still-in-our-jammies-and-some-of-us-are-sick-oh-boy-what-now, company!

The Master List is out the window, folks. We're into High Survival Mode now. Lysol, cleaning, scrubbing, frantic attempt to make the place not look like it's been a convalescent home for the motivationally impaired. Ah. Fun. (And yes, company has been forewarned. Company has no small children and is not afraid of the germs. Yay.)

In the words of one of our favorite singers, "Happy Holidays, Y'all!"

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

All is Quiet

I love our pediatrician. He's not an in-your-face practitioner. He knows that I'm the one who has the ultimate responsibility for the well-being of these children. He's a partner in the plan, and we appreciate that. He listens. He advises. And then he leaves the ball in our court. He. Is. Wonderful. He was careful to check for any concurrent icks that may be going on, and all looks well. He also wrote a refill on the prescription in case the other three monkeys get the eye crud over the weekend. Zorak has it, too, poor guy.

John is resting now. He's got antibiotic drops for his eyes, and they sting. I'm pretty sure he cried most of the medication out. Quietly. Holding my hand. He didn't fuss, but you could tell he was miserable. I slipped out of the room to douse a cotton pad in "Mother's Secret Antibiotic Solution" *grin*, and brought it back to him. It's soothing and comforting, and he's now sound asleep, and healing. Tomorrow will be much better.

Miss Emily's teething and her cold kept her up until about two-thirty last night. John awoke at three with his eye glued shut and was awake until a little after five. Just as I got him settled in and asleep, Smidge awoke and ran screaming from his room. I found him in the kitchen, crying and calling for me. Turned out he had bad dreams. By the time all was said and done, I slept about 45 minutes last night. So I'm going to bed.

And I'm thankful for the bed.
For the babies.
For the soft, warm covers.
I'm thankful for the warm, nourishing meal Zorak prepared while I was out with John today.
For the hugs all around when we returned.
For the rest that evening brings, and the fresh start that rises with the sun.

I couldn't talk Zorak out of a foot rub, but that's okay. There is still so much to be thankful for.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

John's Eyes

I love John's eyes. They are beautiful, and they remind me of Zorak's. Deep, rich worlds echo through time in them.
They make me feel centered. They make me want to take off in flight. They are magical.

And they are the source of a lot of my motherly fears.

When John was about seven months old, he was sitting happily in his bouncy seat while I cleaned our little apartment. James had a rag and was helping me "dust". He was only two at the time. We were singing and having a fine time of it.

The dryer stopped. I took the load of clothes out of the dryer and into our room. No sooner had the clothes hit the bed, then I heard John crying. I ran out (it was a very small apartment - maybe 600'sq. - so none of this took much time at all). He was sitting there, his head was wet, and James was trying to comfort him. I smelled him.

Oh. My. God. Chemicals.

I'm ashamed to admit it now, but I freaked. James showed me what he'd used (Formula 409 - it was on the breakfast bar. I had no idea he could reach things on the breakfast bar.) He thought it would be nice to clean the baby. I snatched up John Baby, grabbed the phone, and ran into the bathroom, where, if he could remember the incident, he'd swear I proceeded to try to drown him under the sink faucet. (I was actually trying to rinse his eyes, but things were a bit hairy.)

Called poison control. They said, "Keep rinsing, but call an ambulance NOW." I kept rinsing. I called 911. They came right away. Looked at him, checked the bottle. They recommended he go to the hospital for a thorough eye wash. They called Poison Control, who also recommended a trip to the ER for a thorough eye wash. The ambulance couldn't take me and James, and I had nobody to watch James. The EMT's said they would call it in, and we could drive him ourselves. They called from the house.

We took off. When we got to the ER, they wouldn't see us. They wouldn't even take him into triage for an hour. He wasn't crying, so the nurses wouldn't listen to me. They called Poison Control, who once again recommended an eye wash. They triaged us, and told me to take him home. Said they wouldn't see him. I refused to leave. I asked for a supervisor or the charge nurse. She came out. She'd been briefed. She told me to go home and let him get some rest.

A waitress came in from work. She had a cold. They took her back. They told me again to go home.

Finally, after three hours of waiting, I started yelling. I threatened to call the police, the DA, the newspaper. They put us in the back. We waited another hour.

When the doctor on the floor finally arrived, he got on me about nursing a seven month old. He refused to do an eye wash. He called Poison Control, who stuck by its recommendation for an eye wash. He offered to write a prescription for something (I don't even remember what now, but it had no bearing on John's eyes), and told me to start feeding that child solids. I refused to leave. I told him I would not leave until he either did an eye wash or proved to me that it wasn't needed.

Fine. He agreed to do a litmus test.

pH in this baby's eyes was 11.5.

The doctor ordered an eye wash - immediately - "The large bag."

He sent me a nursing student who'd never done an eye wash before. She panicked and said she didn't know how to do it.

I hooked it up.

I rinsed his eyes.

I cleaned him up.

If we'd listened to the staff, my son's eyes would have liquefied during the night and he would be blind today. As it is, there's no telling what kind of damage was done in the four hours they made us wait, and refused to listen. We've been told the damage could come over the years. He has until four years after his 18th birthday to attempt any recourse, but of course the hospital has covered their collective butts rather well.

They never apologized.

Their records show that treatment was received. End of story.

Aren't they the heroes?

They turned us over to collections for my refusal to pay for this dog and pony show.

We had to pay them off when we bought our Forever Home.

I hate them to this day. Yavapai Regional Medical Center in Prescott, Arizona has killed - outright, through sheer incompetence and arrogance - more people than I could name in one post, and although the damage they did that day is nominal compared to the end result of many of their actions, it's the one that's lodged in my memory as one of the worst days of my life.

And it's the one that makes John's eyes so very precious to me, and makes me so very scared when something, even something small, happens to them.



Kiss those babies.
~Dy

ARGHHH.

So we were invited to supper with friends Saturday night. We were there about half an hour, the kids all playing together, when their precious little 2yo came toddling out, half-awake from a late nap. We had a nice supper, a good visit.

On the way home, Zorak says, "Well, be prepared, I guess."

"For what?"

"The little one has pink eye. Didn't you notice?"

"No. Oh, crap. I thought it was just sleep in her eyes."

"Nope. Pink eye."

Well, we've spent the week holding our collective breath. I really thought if anybody got it, it'd be Emily, since she played with the little one's toys most of the night, and she and the little one played together.

This morning, at a little after three, John comes to me, groggy and panic-stricken, his left eye matted completely shut.

*sigh*

We didn't need this. We really didn't. And after the Big Scary Eye Incident of '01, John's eyesight is the one thing that consistently gives me nightmares that will wake me with a jolt. I worry constantly.

And, if I'd been given a heads up, we'd have taken a raincheck. I don't mess with the eyes. The sniffles? Sure, what kid doesn't get the sniffles? Some of the nastier things? Maybe, depending. But pink eye? No. Would not have chosen to go. And would have been nice to have the choice.

*sigh*

Appointment with the doc at 9:30. Trip to the pharmacy after that, and then, rather than the market and the library, we'll be heading straight home.

ARGH.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Disappear for a few days...

and, wow.

We've been without a phone line (and, therefore, internet access) for two days, with a brief 20-min. reprieve last night. We hit all the highlights: is the bill paid, is the phone plugged in, have mice chewed through the wires in the walls, did a child stick something where it might cause electrical failures? None of those... Called the phone co., and they said it was in their line, they'd have it fixed by Wednesday morning. Wednesday morning came and went... nothing. Called back, and they said it was in the house. (Thanks for the heads up, guys!) And then, ohhhh... I was at the point of thinking I might have to admit that I'd done something horrible to something technological, and had no idea what it was.

Turns out (happy dance) that a wire had broken down in the basement. It wasn't me! It wasn't the kids! I don't know what happened, but it wasn't us! Yippee. Fudge and hot chocolate all around.

And did you know that without internet access, we still don't get much accomplished? I always read these inspirational stories about all the work people get done when they don't have email or boards to read. Pffttt. Not us, man. The boys and I can kick some serious boo-tay at Computer Solitaire and Pinball now, though.

So. Anyway, we're about as ready for Christmas as it's going to get. One last package arrived today, from Dover Publishing. Yes, I order Christmas gifts from Dover. My children may need therapy, but I don't care - at least they'll have something to read in the therapist's waiting room! We'll do a little spiffing and more normalizing of the place over the weekend, and that's about it on our schedule. I forgot to tell Zorak we were taking off from lessons, and when he asked the boys what they did in school one day, they both said, "Nothing. Same as usual." Meaning, one would hope, the same as usual FOR THE WEEK. But eh, nothing like leaving 'em hanging. (Which, naturally, I couldn't. I just had to yell from the other room, "We're on Christmas Break!" Yes, yes, I know. He trusts me. He knows they're learning. He knows they're fine. But, still... "nothing?" C'mon. You can't leave that just dangling out there, looking awkward.)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy