Thursday, November 10

I love being The Mommy

The boys and I stayed in today. We needed a day of rest rather than recovery alone. It was wonderful.

We made pumpkin cookies and pizza. We told stories. We washed an obscene amount of laundry, and put it all away. We read a bit of The Borrowers and began a bit of Witches (James is a huge Roald Dahl fan. John tolerates it because he gets to snuggle.) Smidge has stopped screaming at me while I read aloud, so we're getting back into the swing of sharing books. Three down, one to go. Maybe Emily won't mind the spoken word so much? (A mom can hope, can't she?) Although, the boys still ask me not to do voices. Even if the book is written in dialect, they'd rather I correct the pronunciation to our own than to have to hear me do voices. And I always thought I had a decent speaking voice... ah, well... can't win 'em all.

Zorak came by for lunch on his way to the house. He took the time to play on the floor with the boys before he left. That had the same effect as slapping those little remote cars onto their chargers for 60 seconds - fully recharged and ready to go. I think Zorak enjoyed it, too.

We cleaned bathrooms, tidied living spaces, jumped on the bed. Patience was in huge supply and low demand today (funny, that correlation). We ate supper at six, and near the end of supper the boys *gasp* asked to go to bed!

Of course, it's nine now, and we've just finished with the whole bedtime routine. Fifty-six teeth to brush, floss and rinse (Smidge doesn't have all of his yet). Three faces to wipe, three heads to comb. Three sets of jammies to don, and three sets of clothes to maneuver to the hamper. Three short books to read, and three chapters from a longer book. Three stories to tell of how this critter, or that shirt, came to live in our home. Three sets of hugs and kisses, given three times over, for each boy and all his soft toys. More stories. Water to drink. Bathroom breaks. Kisses for Emily. Just one more chapter... Yes, bedtime is an event, not a specific time. But it's worth it to see those fully sated little eyes as they peer over the fuzzy blankets, and droop, bit by bit, to sleep. Content. Safe. Loved.

I don't know why I'm always tempted to gyp us all on this last leg of the evening. Sure, I'm exhausted and want nothing more than to curl up and read in the quiet lull of a long day. But this is the big daily payoff. This is the cumulative total of the day's tips, so to speak. It's worth heaving ourselves up one. last. time. To cuddle. To kiss. To serenade with a song or enthrall with a tale. That deep, rich sigh of sleep as it overtakes a child is the ultimate payoff for any day. Why on earth work hard all day and then pass up on that? No, it's worth the last push at the very end. For everybody. And I get to do it tonight. Every night. Thank you, Zorak, for making me The Mommy. I love it.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Wednesday, November 9

Our Little Knight Will Be Fine

Thank you for your prayers and thoughtful words. They mean so much, and John smiled a big smile when I told him people were praying for him and sending him hugs. He got one for each of you and by the time he had them all, he was a giggly mess. Thank you.

We had a great visit at the dentist's office. They got us in, treated him so well, checked him out thoroughly, and sent us off with a handful of cream packets for his lip and instructions to call if there's no improvement by Friday morning (or even if there is and we just want to have him looked at again before the weekend).

His lip is pretty bad off, but it isn't directly from the Novocain reaction. The best our dentist can piece it together, the reaction John had in the office made his lip itch. Since it was still technically numbed, however, he couldn't feel just how hard he was scraping and gnawing to make the itch stop. Until, of course, the Novocain wore off and he was left with a pretty heavily lacerated lip. And because he's not much of a complainer, he never said it itched. The only thing he said was, "I wish it would stop feeling fat. It's getting annoying."

John seems to feel tremendously better now that he knows what's wrong. And now that he knows it'll go away, he's not quite so self-conscious about it, as well. His spirits were up today, and he asked if we could go to the house after lunch.

So that's what we did. The boys dug for bugs and helped throw more stuff on the fire (talk about the eternal flame!) I did clean up duty from the work the guys did last night (they're making great progress! The laundry room was being framed out and the pipes going into the main bath when the boys and I left! WOOHOO!)

We got home later than I'd have liked, but early enough for a warm bath, a good supper, and some songs before bed. That is just what Dr. Mom ordered, and will help everyone cope better.

We picked up a few read alouds when we visited the bookstore the other day (will blog about that in the morning - I think we've found our Alabama equivalent to Maryland's *Bay Books*! Yippee!) We decided to hold off on reading Farmer Boy until we're camping out at the house, so we've started with The Borrowers. It's good to have our noses in a book again. Life just doesn't feel quite right without that time each day.

And ya know what? This mama is tired. I'm going to clean my mouse and take a hot shower.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Tuesday, November 8

My Gentle Knight

John is five. He is the most genuinely sensitive of the three boys, in the truest sense of the word. His empathy is powerful enough to move mountains. His tears are healing and soulful. His laughter wells up and spills over. His desire to fight dragons of all kinds and defend his loves is fervent and true. He is the first one to know when someone else needs a hug, often even before the person in need is aware of it, and he's right there to offer it with all his heart. He would rather snuggle than wrestle; rather sing than speak; rather do than watch. Life is there for the savoring, the taking and the sharing, according to John.

He is also the child to whom most things happen. Allergies? John has them. Freak chemical accident? John got hit. Piss Poor ER staff and a fight just to be seen for the chemical accident? That's my John Baby. (He wasn't "fussy enough", according to them, to have had contact that needed attention.) The child that goes down for a nap after a wonderful morning and awakes an hour later with a fever of 106, unable to breathe? John. Cause of the 106 fever turns out to be double ear infections, upper and lower respiratory infections, UTI, kidney infection and strep - all totally asymptomatic until the fever hit? That would be John. The list goes on... If it's weird, difficult to address, absolutely terrifying, and leaves us absolutely exhausted with frustration and the pain of not being able to make it better, it seems it will attack John.

And he handles it all. so. well. "Does it hurt?" We ask him. He says, "No. Only when..." and goes on to list the times it hurts, which boils down to anyone else saying, "Hell yes, it hurts! Make it stop. Cut it off. Shoot me." But not John. For him, it only hurts occasionally... which is always, but that's not how he sees it. He gets sad, and seeks the comfort he so readily gives at any other time. And he waits for us to make it better.

Tonight is one of those nights. Tonight is actually mild on his timeline of events, but I'm just wearied by it. He had a reaction to the Novocain at the dentist. It began to dissipate by the time we left and aside from his fatigue and exhaustion from our schedule recently, he was pretty okay this afternoon. We stayed home, though, as he wasn't feeling 100%. I called Zorak as we left the dentist's office to let him know I needed to be Full-Time Mommy today and our mail box hole will have to wait. He sent his love and blessings and extra hugs for John.

At supper, something was bothering John. He was hungry, but not eating well. This was more than just tired - something was *wrong*. We talked a bit and I asked him about it. He showed me his lip, which had swollen to four times its normal size in the previous hour. (It hadn't looked like that before.) Oh. Wow. It looked like a large blister, ready to burst, beginning inside his mouth and spreading to the outer part of the face. He never complained, just pointed out that it was "irritating" and made it difficult to eat.

I gave him some Benadryl as we prepared for bed. It didn't touch the swelling or wateriness, but did knock him flat out. He fell asleep with his head in my lap as I was tucking him in for story time.

Well, he has no fever, no rashes, no swelling of his throat or tongue. He's not cold or vomiting, or experiencing labored breathing, and not in enough pain to wake him... so I am letting him sleep. I'll give him some Motrin if he wakes during the night, and continue checking on him every few minutes. He did get up to use the restroom, although he's so out of it than when he was done, he put the lid down on the toilet and sat there, cross-legged, until I asked what he was doing. He just shrugged. I took him back to our bed so I'll be able to keep an eye on him. The blistery-swollen part now extends from the corner of his mouth, along the bottom lip all the way to the middle of his lip. It's worse, but he's still sleeping peacefully.

He has two more visits to the dentist which will require work. Naturally, the front teeth that need to be done are on opposite sides of his face, and can't be done simultaneously. (It's the repair and capping of the front ones, which are chipped and in bad shape.) I don't know what they'll do for him, but Novocain is probably out of the question. And if this is from the Novocain (I'm still not sure - with the way it came, then went, and then returned with a vengeance), the thought of putting him under a general anesthesia is even more terrifying than trying to make him tough it out without a local. It's going to break our hearts, no matter what we need to do. And he'll be so brave, no matter what he needs to do. Our gentle, sweet knight and his big-scary dragons...

I would not trade places with anyone in the world, but God, do I hate this part.

Kiss those sweet babies.
~Dy

A Few Words on Vocabulary Terms

I have been using the term "hillbilly" quite frequently lately, and it dawned on me last night (as I muttered to myself, "We are such hillbillies...") that my intended tone may not convey well on-screen. I do not mean it as a condemnation. It's more a descriptor: yuppies, donks, grandmother-types. Rednecks, yankees and hillbillies are among my regular descriptors, as well.

I'm not 100% clear on this delineation (or on anything right now, so bear with me), but there is a difference between Rednecks and Hillbillies. I think it's mostly geographical, and therefore also somewhat due to the available market. For instance, clothing: rednecks wear cowboy boots more often and hillbillies wear work boots; hillbillies wear overalls and rednecks wear Wranglers. Hillbilly hats seem less stiff than redneck hats, and I wonder if that has to do with the humidity.

Both subsets of society are phenomenally creative when it comes to solving household problems. Bailing wire figures prominently in both. Duct tape does seem to be favored more heavily by hillbillies, however, while electrical tape seems to be the adhesive tape of choice among rednecks (or at least the ones with which I'm most familiar). Caulking has, so far in our experience, remained a predominately redneck fix-all. We haven't seen it used as extensively outside redneck territory.

Both groups resent paying exorbitant prices for services and products, and I'm not talking about grumbling while they fork over the cash. They resent doing so, and will not pay. They'll just make one up rather than part with their hard-earned cash for whatever dodad or thingamajig they need. Don't push 'em, because they'll do it.

If you throw in a case of beer, they'll make it spew flames.

If you bring food, it's a party!

I have to say we (Zorak and I) much prefer redneck music to hillbilly music, but that's an acquired taste, and I am sure the boys will grow up thinking the banjo is the most commonly used instrument known to man. *sigh* Every good redneck knows it's the steel guitar. Geographical issues. There's not much to be done about that.

And that's the thing. We like rednecks and hillbillies. We have chosen to make hillbilly country our home, second to redneck country (which we loved, but couldn't make a living in, and abject poverty just isn't quaint, no matter what the kitschy plaques say), and far and above yankee territory. Sure, they make the more cosmopolitan crowd cringe. That's okay. I'd rather have an old hillbilly or redneck pull over on the side of the road to offer me assistance any day. There's no trying to get reception on the cell phone, or help waving down a cop. He'll pop the hood, break out the bailing wire and duct/electrical tape and I'll be back on the road with a hat tip and a smile in a jiffy. There are many other things to love about the redneck/hillbilly society:

You will not leave their homes hungry if they have anything to say about it.

Whittling. 'Nuff said. That's just cool.

Food and a case of inexpensive alcohol (or, referencing the exorbitant pricing note above, homemade liquer of some vintage), and you've got yerself a party for any occasion. Nothing fancy. No speed cleaning of the house, because everyone's going to gather around the bonfire. No need to clean up because there are dogs that will take all the scraps.

Everybody's Mama can COOK. And I mean COOK.

You will never be without the aid of a pocketknife, and probably a choice of several to choose from to fit your specific need.

You're only company once. Then you're family.

Ma'am is not a derogatory age-related term. It's directly connected to the fact (assumed until you prove otherwise) that you're a Lady.

Manners matter: respect your elders, take your hat off at the table, say please and thank you, and don't spit on the floor.

Private property is just that. Home can be a safe place. There's no "flee your home" doctrine in redneck or hillbilly territory. You know where you ought not be and if you go there without permission, you're in trouble.

So, you see, I do hope I haven't upset anyone with my Hillbilly references. I do love our new Hillbilly Roots. It's just that I don't particularly like having to fix the customary hillbilly handiwork when I'm on a tight schedule. This makes me growly. It also makes me laugh, though, and that's what I've tried to share. Again, tone does not always convey.

And on that note, I am going to be late for our day if I don't get off this computer!

So kiss those babies, y'all. And their mamas, and hug those papas, and enjoy having a Hillbilly, Redneck Day! Make someone smile!

Dy

On the boys.

~John is reading short sentences now. He's thrilled. (So am I!) He climbs in bed each morning with a few books in hand, and we read while we wake up. He’s a lot of fun, and so incredibly affectionate. This is good time for him, and he needs it. His daily "reading lesson" while we're in this stage is his morning letter (a tip I gleaned from MFS a few years back). He loves taking those few quiet minutes together each morning to read a note just for him. It's good one-on-one, and it's... well, it's just good. All the way around. I love this life.

~James helped me measure and mark the mailbox post Sunday. That got us talking about angles and degrees... the next thing you know, we've marked up many boards with angles and bisections, equations and notes, and the kid owns the concept, the math, and the process of figuring this stuff out. He had a blast, and carried his "math board" into the back to show Zorak. We never did get the mailbox post finished, but we accomplished oh, so much more.

~Smidge is talking better and more regularly. He’s such a joy. I can’t believe I was so afraid of having a third child. If I’d known it’d be *him* I’d have probably tried to have twins! He’s so smiley and sweet, so exeuberant and full of expression. He loves to follow the daddy longlegs around the FH (Crissy, you would not believe the sheer quantity-in-bulk we have there!) and talk to them. If you blow gently on them, they hurry, and he thinks that is the. funniest. thing. He tried blowing on me the other day, though, while we were walking down the hill. Methinks I was moving a bit too slowly for his toddler pace.

Kiss those babies!
~DY

Monday, November 7

The Remodel, Day 14, The Highlights

New:
~All the necessary components of the bathroom are now... *drum roll, please* in the living room! But hey, they're ON THE PROPERTY! It's a glorious bath-in-a-box (er, boxes, actually). I must say, with a bit of imagination and x-ray vision, it's beautiful.

~The fridge is on order. It'll be here (good Lord willing) on Wednesday. No more living out of the cooler half of each week. Yay!

Not New:
~I can't even discuss the stove right now without having a palsy overtake my right eye. Something must give. Soon.

~We stopped by the cabinet shop at Home Depot today to see Gary, who had asked us to stop by, and he was gone. Of course. Jon, Emily, and Missy were also unavailable to assist us. That, evidently, makes up the whole kit 'n caboodle of Decatur's Home Depot cabinetry department, yet not a one of 'em was there. Weird. I have, however, decided the bookshelves in our living room would make wonderful kitchen cabinet stand-bys. So not all is lost. It's just taking a while.

Weird (and probably unnecessary):
~There was a strange odor in the neighborhood today. It smells like all the dogs in the county gathered for a fecal compilation contest. My first thought was that the septic had backed up, but no, that's not it. Then, of course, we peered cautiously into our Hillbilly Toilet (the one that's sitting on the front porch, awaiting execution) to see if anyone mistakenly used it sans plumbing. No, that's not it (whew - I cannot say how glad I am that this wasn't it!) We thought perhaps it was the polecat that met its fate on the main road a few days ago... but this isn't a bodily tissue odor, not even for a skunk. Something terrible seems to have happened to someone, or something, in the neighborhood - brownie pranks gone wrong, or Junior went off his meds and is running amok with the prunes... something. It is not, however, on our property, or our doing. THAT'S a relief! It also, however, means it's not in our power to make. it. stop. NOT such a relief...

~Have I mentioned lately how very much I love our bathroom faucets? They're my Happy Spot right now. I wanted to hang them from the ceiling as a motivator, but Zorak thought that was a little weird, even for me. Still, I can look at the picture on the box and give off small, happy sighs over those beautiful little faucets. Really, I love them.

Cool Idea: Now that we've been here seven months, and have a pretty good average to base this on...
~The boys and I have decided to take the money we would spend this week on late fees at the library and hit the used bookstore to fill our library basket. That way, while the money will still be gone, at least we can keep the books. Zorak made a Marge Simpson-like groan when I mentioned our plan, but the boys think it was a stroke of pure genius. We can't wait.

Well, now it's quite late, and there are so very many things running through my head, but I have a huge "S*** to Do List" for tomorrow (yes, that's the title at the top of the page), and so I'd best get going so I can get it all done with a smile on my face and a spring in my step. Or something like that. Truthfully, I'm looking to not yell at anybody. If I can do that, we'll call it good. But it sounds so much better the first way, no?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Sunday, November 6

On Selling Products (More for the "How to Lose A Sale" file)

I don't know what it is with us and salespeople, but...

So we talked with Buford at the Lowe's in Decatur about cabinets.

October 30th: We took our sketches, CAD drawings, measurements to Buford. We had all the details ironed out. Please give us a quote. We would like to order this week. He said it might be ready Monday, but would be ready "by Thursday at the latest". Sounds so simple...

October 31st: I call to check in. It's not ready. That's okay, it's short notice, and it's a holiday. He'll call us Thursday to go over the quote.

November 3rd: Haven't heard from him by six, so I give him a ring. Still not ready. It will be ready tomorrow.

November 6th: (I gave him a couple of days so he could be the one to call us.) Ahhh, no. Buford is off today. Here's your file... but, uh, it's not been worked up.

Yeah.

Ya know, please leave him a note to go ahead and cancel the quote. We'll go with someone who would like to work with us. Thank you.

*sigh*

Who knew it would be so hard to spend money???

Dy

A Funny from Last Night

We were at B&C's house for supper, just getting ready to head out. I asked the boys as they got to the door if they needed to go potty. James said, "Oh, yes, I do." And proceeded to keep going out. the. door.

I called him back and said, "Hey, Buddy. The bathroom's that way!"

He laughed sheepishly and mumbled, "Oh yeah, I'm used to being at the Forever Home."

Evidently he was headed for the nearest tree...

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The Remodel, Day 13

We have subfloor in all the pertinent parts of the house! It's starting to look like somebody intends to live there one day!

Woo-Hoo!
Dy