Well, the best laid plans...
Miss Emily kept me up until five this morning, when I simply couldn't hang any longer and left her to her own devices in the bouncy seat. Needless to say, that rearranged our entire Sunday morning schedule. Pancakes? Nope, Frosted Flakes. Church? Nuh-uh, slept here instead of in the pews.
While Zorak made astounding headway in the back, I primed the living room. (In my defense, before I go any farther, you all need to know that Zorak approved this color! It's not all on me this time!) The primer went on. Uh-oh. "Honey, does this look a little, um, olive drab, to you?" It was, but what could we do? And it was just primer, anyway. It dried to a beautiful, rich, textury green that we both fell in love with. Oh joy! This is exciting!!
Four hours later, I applied the finish coat. Uh-oh. (Yes, again. This time, for real.) "Honey, this is a little, um, yellow..." Zorak said go ahead and slap it on and see what happens. I couldn't bring myself to put it up on more than one wall, at first. It goes on the color of weak split pea soup. (Yeah, ew.) It dries to a vibrant grass color. Hmmm. It's not... bad... per se. But it's not that lovely, convoluted green that begged for bronze trappings and heavy tapestries, either. This green seems to call for more IKEA and less Antique Shoppe. We'll see how it looks in the morning, I suppose.
Meanwhile, Balto figured out how to open the back door, so he spent much of the day inside with us. He's starting to learn that the boys aren't puppies, but I'm not convinced we're making headway. Now he thinks he's a boy! At one point, the balls came out into the living room. I tried to redirect, remind, and guide. Finally I resorted to the Lois technique; yelling.
"THAT'S IT! If you have THAT much extra energy, take. it. OUT. SIDE. NOW!!!"
Balto turned and headed down the hallway and out the back door like a pro! It was all I could do to keep a straight face until all four of them got out of earshot. Too cute. Well, if he's going to be a boy, at least he listens well. That's something.
That's about all I've accomplished today, as Miss Emily has taken the role of Union Boss and she sees to it that nobody works more than she feels ought to be done. Want to work through lunch? Nope, not in the contract. I don't care if this job needs to get done, you're going on break NOW, woman! Ok, ok, just let me put this one little -- Did you not HEAR me? NOW! Alright, already! Sheesh, it's a good thing we're using latex...
And I hear the world's cutest little union boss calling me now, so I'm off!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
If you don't mind the construction dust, come on in. The coffee's hot, the food's good, and the door is open...
Sunday, March 19
Saturday, March 18
Captain's Log: Saturday, sometime in March
So who knew yesterday was St. Patrick's Day and didn't tell me? You'd think I'd have been bruised enough in childhood from not wearing green to school that it would be permanently embedded in my psyche, but noooooo. The boys made it until our friends arrived in the afternoon before they figured it out. When they mentioned it, it was all I could do to fight my first reflex of cringing and shouting, "I'm wearing green underwear! Don't touch me!" (And who says public school doesn't teach social skills?) Ah, oh well, one more minor holiday completely spaced by yours truly.
The boys had a wonderful time with their friends. First thing on the agenda: make some horrible concoction out of household goods to see if it will explode. I don't normally encourage James' "recipes", as simply hearing the ingredient list is usually enough to turn my stomach. However, there were eight children and they agreed to take it outside. It didn't explode. Not even when they added dirt. Hmmmm. But they did have fun.
Balto thought we'd had a whole new litter of puppies brought it. They've never been around puppies before (I imagine their dog is as quiet and gentle as this entire family is, from what their mother said), and two of their children were absolutely terrorized if he so much as looked at them. So Balto had to be kept from the festivities. It just about killed him not to be in the middle of the fun, but he's really not very well-behaved (not dangerous, just not bright) and we didn't invite them out to scar their children.
They brought a paving stone kit for a housewarming gift. We let the kids make it at the dining room table - they all stamped their names into it, and it's curing on the table for the next couple of days. When we put in the children's garden, it'll be the first paver we set. So cute!
Their mother was very sweet, and we had a nice visit, but I think the house and the process and the work we've been doing freaked her out a bit. Her exact words were, "Wow. I wouldn't have tackled this." She was nice, and encouraging, but still, I think she'll be much relieved when all is said and done (and the windows have trim). Zorak thinks it may be a cultural thing (both the fact that she was a little weirded out and that she was so polite about it). He may be right.
There are days that I wonder what we were thinking. That this will never be finished. That we're insane. I suppose, though, that seeing it come together day-by-day makes a difference. Whether it bolsters my confidence that we can do it, or just feeds the mental illness is unclear, but that's okay, too. The boys are happy here. They sing while they eat. They run to the creek. They frolick and play like happy pups. Smidge sings "we're home, home, hoooooome" when we turn into the drive. The older two have forts and hideouts and laboratories all over the property. We're giving them the childhood we hoped to give them, and as the work on the forever home itself slows, we're able to give them more of ourselves again, too (which was the biggest part of the childhood we hoped to give them).
We have a bear and a hippopotamus lurking in the back yard for archery time. Granted, they are 55 gal. trash bags filled with insulation, waiting for the trash man on Tuesday. But right now, they're wild beasts the boys hunt on safari. I sit on the back porch (the one that has a serious Appalachain Hillbilly theme going - it's still got a toilet on it, and the roof is downright terrifying) with my cup of decaf, the baby in my lap, watching Zorak with the boys, hearing their cheers and laughter at every shot, seeing them learn new skills and encourage one another. High fives all around for a good shot. Pats on the back and words of encouragement for a wayward arrow. I laugh and smile and give thanks for all this. Insanity or not, it's good, and I wouldn't trade it for something that made my husband sad or feel trapped. I wouldn't trade it for some place that we couldn't do these things together. And it's okay if not everybody gets it. We get it, and that's why we're doing it.
Oh! Another family from church had a play kitchen they were getting rid of and asked if we'd like it. Sure! So it's now sitting in the dining room and hasn't had a moment's rest while the children are up. Smidge has become quite the gourmet chef! Eggs and coffee are his specialities. (Actually, eggs and coffee are about all he will make. Oh, and tea for James.) I don't know why we never bought one before! These things rock!
As I've typed this and tried to enjoy my morning cup, all three of the boys have arisen, one at a time, and come to sit on my lap for a visit and a snuggle. It's now over an hour later than when I began and it's time to get going on the day. So I'll sign off and go round up the wee ones for some more snuggle time (that stuff is addictive, isn't it?) Y'all have a great Saturday!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
The boys had a wonderful time with their friends. First thing on the agenda: make some horrible concoction out of household goods to see if it will explode. I don't normally encourage James' "recipes", as simply hearing the ingredient list is usually enough to turn my stomach. However, there were eight children and they agreed to take it outside. It didn't explode. Not even when they added dirt. Hmmmm. But they did have fun.
Balto thought we'd had a whole new litter of puppies brought it. They've never been around puppies before (I imagine their dog is as quiet and gentle as this entire family is, from what their mother said), and two of their children were absolutely terrorized if he so much as looked at them. So Balto had to be kept from the festivities. It just about killed him not to be in the middle of the fun, but he's really not very well-behaved (not dangerous, just not bright) and we didn't invite them out to scar their children.
They brought a paving stone kit for a housewarming gift. We let the kids make it at the dining room table - they all stamped their names into it, and it's curing on the table for the next couple of days. When we put in the children's garden, it'll be the first paver we set. So cute!
Their mother was very sweet, and we had a nice visit, but I think the house and the process and the work we've been doing freaked her out a bit. Her exact words were, "Wow. I wouldn't have tackled this." She was nice, and encouraging, but still, I think she'll be much relieved when all is said and done (and the windows have trim). Zorak thinks it may be a cultural thing (both the fact that she was a little weirded out and that she was so polite about it). He may be right.
There are days that I wonder what we were thinking. That this will never be finished. That we're insane. I suppose, though, that seeing it come together day-by-day makes a difference. Whether it bolsters my confidence that we can do it, or just feeds the mental illness is unclear, but that's okay, too. The boys are happy here. They sing while they eat. They run to the creek. They frolick and play like happy pups. Smidge sings "we're home, home, hoooooome" when we turn into the drive. The older two have forts and hideouts and laboratories all over the property. We're giving them the childhood we hoped to give them, and as the work on the forever home itself slows, we're able to give them more of ourselves again, too (which was the biggest part of the childhood we hoped to give them).
We have a bear and a hippopotamus lurking in the back yard for archery time. Granted, they are 55 gal. trash bags filled with insulation, waiting for the trash man on Tuesday. But right now, they're wild beasts the boys hunt on safari. I sit on the back porch (the one that has a serious Appalachain Hillbilly theme going - it's still got a toilet on it, and the roof is downright terrifying) with my cup of decaf, the baby in my lap, watching Zorak with the boys, hearing their cheers and laughter at every shot, seeing them learn new skills and encourage one another. High fives all around for a good shot. Pats on the back and words of encouragement for a wayward arrow. I laugh and smile and give thanks for all this. Insanity or not, it's good, and I wouldn't trade it for something that made my husband sad or feel trapped. I wouldn't trade it for some place that we couldn't do these things together. And it's okay if not everybody gets it. We get it, and that's why we're doing it.
Oh! Another family from church had a play kitchen they were getting rid of and asked if we'd like it. Sure! So it's now sitting in the dining room and hasn't had a moment's rest while the children are up. Smidge has become quite the gourmet chef! Eggs and coffee are his specialities. (Actually, eggs and coffee are about all he will make. Oh, and tea for James.) I don't know why we never bought one before! These things rock!
As I've typed this and tried to enjoy my morning cup, all three of the boys have arisen, one at a time, and come to sit on my lap for a visit and a snuggle. It's now over an hour later than when I began and it's time to get going on the day. So I'll sign off and go round up the wee ones for some more snuggle time (that stuff is addictive, isn't it?) Y'all have a great Saturday!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Thursday, March 16
Living Life in 15 min. Increments
We are Crisis Cleaning today. (Company coming tomorrow, and the lived-in look has been stretched a bit too thin to pass for construction dust at this point.) So, I have 15 minutes to blow - we've cleaned the kitchen and living room and have hung/put away our clothes - but the General board at WTM is down and I'm all caught up on my blogrunning. *sigh* What's a gal to do?
Why, blog, of course!
Amy tagged me, but I'm going hold off on doing it to see if I can find a cool old photo to post with it. It was fun seeing hers. (Come to think of it, I still haven't done the one FarmGirl tagged me with from a month or so ago. I am really bad at team games, aren't I? Sorry.)
Tomorrow is Friday, and it brings with it a flurry of remodel activity. I love payday!
We're going through the pantry today to figure out what we need to buy and what we just aren't eating much of. Then I've got to refigure our meals. This morning I went low-maintenance for breakfast and served hot rice w/ milk, sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar. The boys ate it like I'd served them ice cream. That makes me leery, but hey, it's enriched rice and there was milk, and cinnamon... um, is tree bark a food group? It should be. When you have three small boys, that's an easy one to get in a full RDA's worth!
Well, there goes the timer. Time to get back to work! Have a wonderfully productive day!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Why, blog, of course!
Amy tagged me, but I'm going hold off on doing it to see if I can find a cool old photo to post with it. It was fun seeing hers. (Come to think of it, I still haven't done the one FarmGirl tagged me with from a month or so ago. I am really bad at team games, aren't I? Sorry.)
Tomorrow is Friday, and it brings with it a flurry of remodel activity. I love payday!
We're going through the pantry today to figure out what we need to buy and what we just aren't eating much of. Then I've got to refigure our meals. This morning I went low-maintenance for breakfast and served hot rice w/ milk, sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar. The boys ate it like I'd served them ice cream. That makes me leery, but hey, it's enriched rice and there was milk, and cinnamon... um, is tree bark a food group? It should be. When you have three small boys, that's an easy one to get in a full RDA's worth!
Well, there goes the timer. Time to get back to work! Have a wonderfully productive day!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Wednesday, March 15
Full Disclosure
Ok, Renee brought up a good point. It takes a certain person to handle living in Alabama, and if you're not that certain person and are thinking of moving here and screwing it up like you did your own state that you can't wait to run from, well, don't.
So how do you know if you're "a certain person"? It's easy. If you're thinking of moving to Alabama, here are a few things we'd like you to know before you make your decision:
Only I-65 is paved. Every other road in the entire state is gravel and oppossum.
Shod children are verbotten. They took our shoes when we arrived.
The ground is infested with hook worms, and your now barefooted children will come down with them.
But you won't notice because you'll be too busy picking ticks off their little bodies.
There are gators in the Tennessee River. (Seriously.)
You will not be able to understand a single person at the drive-thru, and it's not the microphones. You can't understand 'em at the counter, either.
Taxes are atrocious. Simply atrocious. (And those of you from New Jersy, don't laugh. We just can't afford for them to get NJ-bad before we complain!)
After six months, you won't be able to understand a thing your youngest child says.
If you weren't born in the South, you will never attain Southern Hair. This will mark you forever as a fer'ner and you will be mocked at all public gatherings, eateries, and even in church.
OK, I lied. We have no eateries. Just lots of fried food places. This is cardiac central, here, folks. Run!
When we say folks are "friendly", it's a euphemism for "nosey". And the towns are small to facilitate the corporate knowledge of your. every. move.
The Air and Space Museum is a front, just like Old Tucson. It's not real.
The IMAX there is a bedsheet and a slide projector. (OK, it's probably time for me to just go to bed, isn't it?)
In all seriousness, it does take a special person to feel at home here. Not everyone would love it. I don't think we would have been so excited about it three years ago. But that's why we didn't come three years ago. We have friends we love dearly who would wither up and die if they tried to live here. Just as we nearly withered up and died living on the east coast.
But I jokingly told someone a while back that we just tell everybody that nobody here can read and they're all married to their cousins and you can't get indoor plumbing. She was aghast. I mean truly and wholly offended. To the core of her being. Once I realized she thought I was serious, I felt bad. Although you couldn't probably spot that right-off, what with my giggling and all... Gotta work on those social skills. Or find friends who get my sense of humor so I can quit subjecting these sweet old Southern Belles to it.
And that's just what we did today. (Sweet segue, huh?) The children and I went to the festival and had a lovely time with several other homeschool families. I was the dowdiest mother there (but I'm getting used to that - see #9 above - there is no hope). The kids had a wonderful time. The boys made friends and now desperately want to take Judo classes. Emily got lightly toasted. (Oops. Bad Mommy forgot the sunblock!) Just on her head, though. I don't know what they all thought of us, but we enjoyed the company and felt very comfortable with them. It's starting to feel like "home", and we're beginning to gather "our people".
Met Zorak for supper at the New Moon (cheap Chinese buffet - with a sushi sidebar that James loves), then he took Smidge home while the others and I headed to church. Pioneer Club went wonderfully well (I'm going to miss it when they break for the summer!) and nobody got injured. We've got some really wonderful people there, and it's always a nice time spent enjoying one another.
And now, to bed. Tomorrow's a busy, busy day, but it should be a good one!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
So how do you know if you're "a certain person"? It's easy. If you're thinking of moving to Alabama, here are a few things we'd like you to know before you make your decision:
Only I-65 is paved. Every other road in the entire state is gravel and oppossum.
Shod children are verbotten. They took our shoes when we arrived.
The ground is infested with hook worms, and your now barefooted children will come down with them.
But you won't notice because you'll be too busy picking ticks off their little bodies.
There are gators in the Tennessee River. (Seriously.)
You will not be able to understand a single person at the drive-thru, and it's not the microphones. You can't understand 'em at the counter, either.
Taxes are atrocious. Simply atrocious. (And those of you from New Jersy, don't laugh. We just can't afford for them to get NJ-bad before we complain!)
After six months, you won't be able to understand a thing your youngest child says.
If you weren't born in the South, you will never attain Southern Hair. This will mark you forever as a fer'ner and you will be mocked at all public gatherings, eateries, and even in church.
OK, I lied. We have no eateries. Just lots of fried food places. This is cardiac central, here, folks. Run!
When we say folks are "friendly", it's a euphemism for "nosey". And the towns are small to facilitate the corporate knowledge of your. every. move.
The Air and Space Museum is a front, just like Old Tucson. It's not real.
The IMAX there is a bedsheet and a slide projector. (OK, it's probably time for me to just go to bed, isn't it?)
In all seriousness, it does take a special person to feel at home here. Not everyone would love it. I don't think we would have been so excited about it three years ago. But that's why we didn't come three years ago. We have friends we love dearly who would wither up and die if they tried to live here. Just as we nearly withered up and died living on the east coast.
But I jokingly told someone a while back that we just tell everybody that nobody here can read and they're all married to their cousins and you can't get indoor plumbing. She was aghast. I mean truly and wholly offended. To the core of her being. Once I realized she thought I was serious, I felt bad. Although you couldn't probably spot that right-off, what with my giggling and all... Gotta work on those social skills. Or find friends who get my sense of humor so I can quit subjecting these sweet old Southern Belles to it.
And that's just what we did today. (Sweet segue, huh?) The children and I went to the festival and had a lovely time with several other homeschool families. I was the dowdiest mother there (but I'm getting used to that - see #9 above - there is no hope). The kids had a wonderful time. The boys made friends and now desperately want to take Judo classes. Emily got lightly toasted. (Oops. Bad Mommy forgot the sunblock!) Just on her head, though. I don't know what they all thought of us, but we enjoyed the company and felt very comfortable with them. It's starting to feel like "home", and we're beginning to gather "our people".
Met Zorak for supper at the New Moon (cheap Chinese buffet - with a sushi sidebar that James loves), then he took Smidge home while the others and I headed to church. Pioneer Club went wonderfully well (I'm going to miss it when they break for the summer!) and nobody got injured. We've got some really wonderful people there, and it's always a nice time spent enjoying one another.
And now, to bed. Tomorrow's a busy, busy day, but it should be a good one!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
PSA - thought I'd share
Do you have feelings of inadequacy?
Do you suffer from shyness?
Do you sometimes wish you were more assertive?
If you answered yes to any of these questions, ask your doctor or pharmacist about Tequila®.
Tequila® is the safe, natural way to feel better and more confident about yourself and your actions.
Tequila® can help ease you out of your shyness and let you tell the world that you're ready and willing to do just about anything.
You will notice the benefits of Tequila® almost immediately, and with a regimen of regular doses you can overcome any obstacles that prevent you from living the life you want to live.
Shyness and awkwardness will be a thing of the past, and you will discover many talents you never knew you had.
Stop hiding and start living, with Tequila®.
Tequila® may not be right for everyone. Women who are pregnant or nursing should not use Tequila®. However, women who wouldn't mind nursing or becoming pregnant are encouraged to try it.
Side effects may include dizziness, nausea, vomiting, incarceration, erotic lustfulness, loss of motor control, loss of clothing, loss of money, loss of virginity, delusions of grandeur, table dancing, headache, dehydration, dry mouth, and a desire to sing Karaoke and play all-night rounds of Strip Poker, Truth Or Dare, and Naked Twister.
Tequila®. Leave Shyness Behind
Do you suffer from shyness?
Do you sometimes wish you were more assertive?
If you answered yes to any of these questions, ask your doctor or pharmacist about Tequila®.
Tequila® is the safe, natural way to feel better and more confident about yourself and your actions.
Tequila® can help ease you out of your shyness and let you tell the world that you're ready and willing to do just about anything.
You will notice the benefits of Tequila® almost immediately, and with a regimen of regular doses you can overcome any obstacles that prevent you from living the life you want to live.
Shyness and awkwardness will be a thing of the past, and you will discover many talents you never knew you had.
Stop hiding and start living, with Tequila®.
Tequila® may not be right for everyone. Women who are pregnant or nursing should not use Tequila®. However, women who wouldn't mind nursing or becoming pregnant are encouraged to try it.
Side effects may include dizziness, nausea, vomiting, incarceration, erotic lustfulness, loss of motor control, loss of clothing, loss of money, loss of virginity, delusions of grandeur, table dancing, headache, dehydration, dry mouth, and a desire to sing Karaoke and play all-night rounds of Strip Poker, Truth Or Dare, and Naked Twister.
Tequila®. Leave Shyness Behind
Tuesday, March 14
Coming Together
I know it all comes together. It does. It has to. And if it doesn't, well, I won't realize that until it's too late and then mere acceptance can replace the misguided hope I've been harboring, right? Right. In the meantime, y'all have shared some great ideas, and made me laugh a lot. Thank you so much.
Today should be sunny and windy. That's a perfect laundry day! Yippee! The boys won't be so thrilled, but that's okay. Slave labor isn't supposed to be fun.
Tomorrow we're going to an Asian arts festival in Decatur. One of the ladies from the WTM boards who'd contacted me about doctors has put together a small group to go and she invited us, also. I'm looking forward to meeting her and her little ones, and the boys are just thrilled. They were beginning to wonder if anybody in Alabama homeschools besides us and the midwives.
We're having a very difficult time showing some restraint in our preparations for the arrival of Gram and The Aunts. The only thing that's slowed us down is that a lot of the goodies we'd like to have on hand are fresh and perishable, and wouldn't be all that impressive if they'd been sitting here for three weeks by the time they arrived. *grin*
The master bedroom is coming along nicely. Not quickly, but nicely. It's going to feel sooooo good to get that room done (and get the queen bed out of the dinky little room it's in now - it's like Romper Room, with wall-to-wall bedding). I think Zorak will bring home a truckload of gravel on Friday, so we can fix the driveway and then we can have the construction dumpster hauled away. That, alone, will do wonders for the outside! (It was supposed to be hauled away a while ago, but they can't get over the driveway with a full load, and that's just been at the bottom of our priorities list until now.) Step-by-step, it's all coming together! And it's fun!
Thursday (yes, this is turning into a "to-do list", hush) we'll clean and get the house ready for company on Friday. Some of our over-an-hour-away friends from church have no school on Friday, so they're coming for a playdate. As long as James doesn't propose marriage, it should be a fun day!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Today should be sunny and windy. That's a perfect laundry day! Yippee! The boys won't be so thrilled, but that's okay. Slave labor isn't supposed to be fun.
Tomorrow we're going to an Asian arts festival in Decatur. One of the ladies from the WTM boards who'd contacted me about doctors has put together a small group to go and she invited us, also. I'm looking forward to meeting her and her little ones, and the boys are just thrilled. They were beginning to wonder if anybody in Alabama homeschools besides us and the midwives.
We're having a very difficult time showing some restraint in our preparations for the arrival of Gram and The Aunts. The only thing that's slowed us down is that a lot of the goodies we'd like to have on hand are fresh and perishable, and wouldn't be all that impressive if they'd been sitting here for three weeks by the time they arrived. *grin*
The master bedroom is coming along nicely. Not quickly, but nicely. It's going to feel sooooo good to get that room done (and get the queen bed out of the dinky little room it's in now - it's like Romper Room, with wall-to-wall bedding). I think Zorak will bring home a truckload of gravel on Friday, so we can fix the driveway and then we can have the construction dumpster hauled away. That, alone, will do wonders for the outside! (It was supposed to be hauled away a while ago, but they can't get over the driveway with a full load, and that's just been at the bottom of our priorities list until now.) Step-by-step, it's all coming together! And it's fun!
Thursday (yes, this is turning into a "to-do list", hush) we'll clean and get the house ready for company on Friday. Some of our over-an-hour-away friends from church have no school on Friday, so they're coming for a playdate. As long as James doesn't propose marriage, it should be a fun day!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Monday, March 13
On Being Outnumbered - Our First Day Back At Church
Well, I can't say it was from lack of trying. We prepared the oatmeal pancake batter from the Hillbilly Housewife on Saturday night. Laid out clothes for everyone. Got to bed at a decent hour, and set the alarm. We were all up, dressed, fed, and out the door bright and early. So far, so good! Zorak stayed home to battle the wiring he'd had to lay aside on Saturday to do brickwork.
Smidge fell asleep on the drive to church. (It was nine in the morning! Noooo!) And Emily screamed the last half hour of the drive. We got there in time for Sunday School, and the older boys were off and running! Yay. Emily was just coming off the indignation that comes from having to wait to eat. Smidge wanted nothing to do with the nursery, so I sat in the adult class with both of the little ones on my lap. (In hindsight, this should have been my clue to leave as soon as class ended, but I'm not too bright sometimes.)
Class let out and we enjoyed visiting during the break. Emily got passed around. One of our wonderful Titus2 ladies helped me get everybody herded to one table and kept the boys' cups filled. Alrighty, not bad... not bad... we're doing okay. As long as nobody has to pee, I think we'll be okay.
We headed into the sanctuary, me and my little trail of ducklings. The boys shot straight to the front of the church. I did have sense enough to sit on the side by the wall aisle so I could slip out if need be. And boy, did need be! After two hours of being awake and chipper, Emily came slowly, yet vociferously, unhinged. I tried nursing, but that wasn't it - this was gas, baby, and there was no stopping it. She's still at the "yell the gas out" stage (I'm so glad this disappears - could you imagine how awkward life would be if everyone did that?) So I gave the boys instructions to sit. quietly. and for the love of God, do not squirrel around. Took Smidge and Em to the nursery to change diapers and see if I could settle her down a bit.
Well, it's dawned on Smidge lately that he's not getting the Lap Time he's accustomed to having. And while he doesn't blame Em for that, he is certainly determined to get it back. So there was nothing doing on the nursery for him. Emily seemed quieter (and I had visions of the boys swinging from the banners in the sanctuary) so we headed back in. No sooner did I sit down that she starts squawking again! And now Smidge is talking - to the chairs, to his brothers, to Emily, to the pastor. Oy! And I'm smiling as I try to get everyone settled, but it's one of those tense, thin-lipped smiles that just screams, "Kill me now!"
Finally, Emily lets out the gas, along with a Braveheart-type war whoop and Smidge starts yelling, "Fart! Fart! HA HA HA HA!! You fart, Mama!" (This is genetically coded in him, blaming others for passing gas, and laughing heartily about it. It should serve him well in college, but for now, not so funny.)
That was it. The end of my fortitude. I'd like to say we quietly grabbed our things and slipped out, but you know it didn't go like that. Oh no. Poor James picked up my Bible by the case, which was open, and out fell the Bible and three year's worth of notes and bulletins. You could see the, 'oh, man' look on his face. Smidge started yelling, "Mess! Mess! OH NO!" Emily's croaking like a frog by this point because I'm stooped down picking up papers, and she's slipped into a hold that vaguely resembles the way Penny from The Rescuers carried Mr. Rufus, the orphanage cat. And John, who had somehow migrated three seats away from us, was completely absorbed in whatever pastor was saying. We couldn't get his attention to tell him we're leaving. Thankfully James hopped over and tapped him on the shoulder before I had to start throwing small pencils at his head.
We did get out. In one piece. And I hugged each of the boys as I hoisted them into the Suburban. I let them know that they were awesome and sweet and wonderful and that I appreciated them tremendously. (Well, the big ones, anyway - Smidge, I just loved on and snuggled. He needed it.) It wasn't their fault. I'm just horribly outnumbered and not up to speed. But boy, did I feel like a total failure.
So. Next week, we'll try again. With a new plan of attack. We'll sit in the far back, which isn't great for the boys, but then I can get up and walk Emily if she gets fussy. It won't disturb the others, and will also allow me to be near the boys. (She was sound asleep not two miles down the road, by the way.) I've got to get a new printer so I can print out some things to distract Smidge, and do up the little activity booklets I used to do for the boys. Um... can you all think of anything else that might help? The lady who works in the nursery on Sunday mornings is awesome, and I'd feel comfortable leaving Smidge in her care, but right now he doesn't remember her (it's been about six months since we've been to a Sunday service) and he feels pretty abandoned. We'll have to work into that.
This has to be doable. It just has to. But I haven't the foggiest idea how to pull it off. Anybody out there keep several small children in church with them, on their own? Zorak may come with us once in a while, when the house is finished, but right now it's just lil' ol' me and the kids.
And in the meantime, we have a wonderful week spread out ahead of us!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Smidge fell asleep on the drive to church. (It was nine in the morning! Noooo!) And Emily screamed the last half hour of the drive. We got there in time for Sunday School, and the older boys were off and running! Yay. Emily was just coming off the indignation that comes from having to wait to eat. Smidge wanted nothing to do with the nursery, so I sat in the adult class with both of the little ones on my lap. (In hindsight, this should have been my clue to leave as soon as class ended, but I'm not too bright sometimes.)
Class let out and we enjoyed visiting during the break. Emily got passed around. One of our wonderful Titus2 ladies helped me get everybody herded to one table and kept the boys' cups filled. Alrighty, not bad... not bad... we're doing okay. As long as nobody has to pee, I think we'll be okay.
We headed into the sanctuary, me and my little trail of ducklings. The boys shot straight to the front of the church. I did have sense enough to sit on the side by the wall aisle so I could slip out if need be. And boy, did need be! After two hours of being awake and chipper, Emily came slowly, yet vociferously, unhinged. I tried nursing, but that wasn't it - this was gas, baby, and there was no stopping it. She's still at the "yell the gas out" stage (I'm so glad this disappears - could you imagine how awkward life would be if everyone did that?) So I gave the boys instructions to sit. quietly. and for the love of God, do not squirrel around. Took Smidge and Em to the nursery to change diapers and see if I could settle her down a bit.
Well, it's dawned on Smidge lately that he's not getting the Lap Time he's accustomed to having. And while he doesn't blame Em for that, he is certainly determined to get it back. So there was nothing doing on the nursery for him. Emily seemed quieter (and I had visions of the boys swinging from the banners in the sanctuary) so we headed back in. No sooner did I sit down that she starts squawking again! And now Smidge is talking - to the chairs, to his brothers, to Emily, to the pastor. Oy! And I'm smiling as I try to get everyone settled, but it's one of those tense, thin-lipped smiles that just screams, "Kill me now!"
Finally, Emily lets out the gas, along with a Braveheart-type war whoop and Smidge starts yelling, "Fart! Fart! HA HA HA HA!! You fart, Mama!" (This is genetically coded in him, blaming others for passing gas, and laughing heartily about it. It should serve him well in college, but for now, not so funny.)
That was it. The end of my fortitude. I'd like to say we quietly grabbed our things and slipped out, but you know it didn't go like that. Oh no. Poor James picked up my Bible by the case, which was open, and out fell the Bible and three year's worth of notes and bulletins. You could see the, 'oh, man' look on his face. Smidge started yelling, "Mess! Mess! OH NO!" Emily's croaking like a frog by this point because I'm stooped down picking up papers, and she's slipped into a hold that vaguely resembles the way Penny from The Rescuers carried Mr. Rufus, the orphanage cat. And John, who had somehow migrated three seats away from us, was completely absorbed in whatever pastor was saying. We couldn't get his attention to tell him we're leaving. Thankfully James hopped over and tapped him on the shoulder before I had to start throwing small pencils at his head.
We did get out. In one piece. And I hugged each of the boys as I hoisted them into the Suburban. I let them know that they were awesome and sweet and wonderful and that I appreciated them tremendously. (Well, the big ones, anyway - Smidge, I just loved on and snuggled. He needed it.) It wasn't their fault. I'm just horribly outnumbered and not up to speed. But boy, did I feel like a total failure.
So. Next week, we'll try again. With a new plan of attack. We'll sit in the far back, which isn't great for the boys, but then I can get up and walk Emily if she gets fussy. It won't disturb the others, and will also allow me to be near the boys. (She was sound asleep not two miles down the road, by the way.) I've got to get a new printer so I can print out some things to distract Smidge, and do up the little activity booklets I used to do for the boys. Um... can you all think of anything else that might help? The lady who works in the nursery on Sunday mornings is awesome, and I'd feel comfortable leaving Smidge in her care, but right now he doesn't remember her (it's been about six months since we've been to a Sunday service) and he feels pretty abandoned. We'll have to work into that.
This has to be doable. It just has to. But I haven't the foggiest idea how to pull it off. Anybody out there keep several small children in church with them, on their own? Zorak may come with us once in a while, when the house is finished, but right now it's just lil' ol' me and the kids.
And in the meantime, we have a wonderful week spread out ahead of us!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Saturday, March 11
Hi! :-)
Just a quick post since I MUST get to bed at a decent hour tonight!
The hallway has been textured. *whew* I'll prime it in the AM, before church, I hope.
The laundry room is both primed and painted. As soon as the paint dries (which may take a while - it's kinda humid today), the outlet covers go up and it is DONE. (It's so purdy!)
Zorak discovered a big, big surprise when he removed the back porch light to do the wiring, and he's now up to his elbows in mortar, new bricks, and miscellaneous other BIG repair jobs. We cannot wait to get rid of this horrible brick exterior - it's a poorly done job that's hung on far longer than the laws of physics would suggest possible.
The bathroom got paint touch-ups yesterday, and it looks much tidier now. All we lack for that room are the towels rods. Oh, and two neato mirrors for above the sinks. We were going to splurge at IKEA for the towel rods, but they're more money than we can honestly justify for something like that (as in, we would not get the enjoyment from them that we do from the curtain rod - now that was a good buy!) The mirrors we hope to find at ajunk shop antique store.
We wanted to (finally) do the texture in the dining room today, but I used the rest of the joint compound texturing the hall, so it has to wait until tomorrow's Lowe's trip.
Zorak is so sweet. He's terribly excited about finishing the hallway. Do you know why? So we can hang the big family photo in the hall! Oh, I do love that man.
OK, he's back from the corner hardware store. I better get up and look active again! Thanks for taking a tea break with me (yes, it's hot in the south - time for suntea!)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
The hallway has been textured. *whew* I'll prime it in the AM, before church, I hope.
The laundry room is both primed and painted. As soon as the paint dries (which may take a while - it's kinda humid today), the outlet covers go up and it is DONE. (It's so purdy!)
Zorak discovered a big, big surprise when he removed the back porch light to do the wiring, and he's now up to his elbows in mortar, new bricks, and miscellaneous other BIG repair jobs. We cannot wait to get rid of this horrible brick exterior - it's a poorly done job that's hung on far longer than the laws of physics would suggest possible.
The bathroom got paint touch-ups yesterday, and it looks much tidier now. All we lack for that room are the towels rods. Oh, and two neato mirrors for above the sinks. We were going to splurge at IKEA for the towel rods, but they're more money than we can honestly justify for something like that (as in, we would not get the enjoyment from them that we do from the curtain rod - now that was a good buy!) The mirrors we hope to find at a
We wanted to (finally) do the texture in the dining room today, but I used the rest of the joint compound texturing the hall, so it has to wait until tomorrow's Lowe's trip.
Zorak is so sweet. He's terribly excited about finishing the hallway. Do you know why? So we can hang the big family photo in the hall! Oh, I do love that man.
OK, he's back from the corner hardware store. I better get up and look active again! Thanks for taking a tea break with me (yes, it's hot in the south - time for suntea!)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Friday, March 10
Three Day Weekends
Would you believe it took me three tries to type that title? Kept coming out "Three Dog Night". Weird.
Anyhow, these three-day weekends are nice. We get an extra half-day to work on the house, and an extra half-day to spend with the boys. Couldn't work out any nicer if we bribed someone!
Zorak got things lined up to rewire the master bedroom. I primed the laundry room and plotted the paint purchases for the rest of the things. Cleaned the texture pan (I know, it would be so much easier to just rinse it when I'm done, but I'm usually done when Emily suddenly decides she wanted to eat half an hour ago, so there's no time for tidiness.) Painted and tidied up the tidbits in the bathroom that need attention. Pretty laid-back day.
Oh, I did have to venture into town to get set up with a "Primary Care Physician". That was a nightmare. The doctor is nice enough. I'm sure she's competent. But I could just sense the polarization in the air with every question she asked. She is convinced I'm a lunatic, or severely delusional, at best. There's just no way, in her mind, I can be *this* happy, and *this* okay with my life when I have four children, homeschool, am remodeling a house and don't drink. Well, not heavily, anyway. And everytime she scrunched up her face in response to some answer I gave to her questions, all I could think was, "What?!?! What do you want me to say?"
She asked if I was losing weight since I'm nursing. I told her that I'd lost quite a bit, nearly to pre-pregnancy weight, but that according to her scale, it's levelled off now. She wanted to check my thyroid! What? Why!? I'm not tired. I'm not out of a normal, healthy weight range. I am experiencing absolutely no symptoms of an out-of-whack thyroid. Not one. I tried to explain that I'm a lot less active now that the baby has arrived than I was during my pregnancy. Now I just sit on my butt and cuddle children. We all know that's going to show up on the scale, eventually. She did that face scrunching thing again and said, "Oh, come ON! How could you possibly be LESS active? You have FOUR kids. *face scrunch* You're active." And then she scribbled something in my file. I have no idea what, but I don't think it was good. *sigh* We need a physician for the commune. Any takers?
That's about it. I'm going to see if the texture brush has let go of the dried on compound yet, and if so, I'm going to texture the hall. (It's never been pretty, so this is one part I've been anxious to see the final results on!)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Anyhow, these three-day weekends are nice. We get an extra half-day to work on the house, and an extra half-day to spend with the boys. Couldn't work out any nicer if we bribed someone!
Zorak got things lined up to rewire the master bedroom. I primed the laundry room and plotted the paint purchases for the rest of the things. Cleaned the texture pan (I know, it would be so much easier to just rinse it when I'm done, but I'm usually done when Emily suddenly decides she wanted to eat half an hour ago, so there's no time for tidiness.) Painted and tidied up the tidbits in the bathroom that need attention. Pretty laid-back day.
Oh, I did have to venture into town to get set up with a "Primary Care Physician". That was a nightmare. The doctor is nice enough. I'm sure she's competent. But I could just sense the polarization in the air with every question she asked. She is convinced I'm a lunatic, or severely delusional, at best. There's just no way, in her mind, I can be *this* happy, and *this* okay with my life when I have four children, homeschool, am remodeling a house and don't drink. Well, not heavily, anyway. And everytime she scrunched up her face in response to some answer I gave to her questions, all I could think was, "What?!?! What do you want me to say?"
She asked if I was losing weight since I'm nursing. I told her that I'd lost quite a bit, nearly to pre-pregnancy weight, but that according to her scale, it's levelled off now. She wanted to check my thyroid! What? Why!? I'm not tired. I'm not out of a normal, healthy weight range. I am experiencing absolutely no symptoms of an out-of-whack thyroid. Not one. I tried to explain that I'm a lot less active now that the baby has arrived than I was during my pregnancy. Now I just sit on my butt and cuddle children. We all know that's going to show up on the scale, eventually. She did that face scrunching thing again and said, "Oh, come ON! How could you possibly be LESS active? You have FOUR kids. *face scrunch* You're active." And then she scribbled something in my file. I have no idea what, but I don't think it was good. *sigh* We need a physician for the commune. Any takers?
That's about it. I'm going to see if the texture brush has let go of the dried on compound yet, and if so, I'm going to texture the hall. (It's never been pretty, so this is one part I've been anxious to see the final results on!)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)