Sunday, August 31, 2008
AFTER A WHILE
After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't mean security.
And you begin to learn
that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
you really are strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every good-bye, you learn...
-Veronica A. Shoffstall
Saturday, August 30, 2008
As usual, my kids provided fun commentary throughout the day. Tatton (the spotlight addict) asked me if I was going to blog about some of the things he said, so here's my favorite: We were walking past the police station and Lane said, "Remember when we do the downtown trick or treat and they give away those baggies with candy?" Tatton said, "Yeah, that's cool 'cause we know we can trust them. What kind of police officer would poison Halloween candy? Well... that would be a good way to catch a sweet toothed bad guy." Then, when he asked if I was going to blog that (is it wierd that my kids now expect me to blog the things they do and say?) he tried to convince me to edit it so that he had said, "a sweet toothed serial killer" in case people thought poisoning a plain old bad guy was too extreme. "After all, the poison could be lethal and that might be considered the death penalty and that wouldn't be justified." I just said, "Whatever, Tatton. I'm not going to edit my blog for you. Sorry. First comment stands."
Then, this evening was Cody Helm's baptism. That was neat. I can't believe Cody is already as old as he is. He looked so happy and handsome walking in with his daddy all fresh and clean from the font. It's amazing how there really is a certain maturity & understanding that comes right around this age. I've noticed it recently in Russell too. He's just more conscious than he used to be. Walking through the mall yesterday he was keenly aware of his surroundings and trying to behave. Maybe it was just because his sister was being so terrible that it made him look good, but he seemed like he had recently developed more self-control and responsibility. It's crazy to think that these little guys were so much littler not that long ago. Makes the reality of them becoming grown-ups before too long seem all too real. :-(
Well, I guess I should go start some house work. See if I can go from the minute maid to the 10 minute maid...
You see, Brooke knows what she likes and doesn't like. She doesn't like anything too girly and she doesn't like anything too "boy-ey". Meaning, she was gravitating to leopard print since to her it made a statement of "I'm not a girly girl that wears just pink but it's not all blue either- although boys like animals so this is kind of a tom boy outfit that's feminine. " (Her line of thought. Not mine.) Comfort is always of utmost importance and she believes practically all pants are going to give her a wedgie so she flips out, "I can't wear THAT! It'll get a wedgie!!!" whenever I offer her a pair of jeans. So, I offered her skirts and baby doll dresses with soft leggings. "Too cute! I can't go to school looking that cute!", she spazzed out.
One of my favorite reasons to go to the Children's Place is that you can coordinate things. I've been cyber stalking their new fall looks since they first came out in June. So, I had certain things already picked out in my head when we arrived at the store. I made the mistake of acting like I liked them though. Never say, "Oh! Look at how cute it is that these socks and hair pretties match this sweater!" to my daughter! She went all exorcist on me. "I hate too much matching!!!"
The one thing I wasn't worried about buying was shoes. In general, she has a shoe fetish (never take her in the shoe aisle if you don't want to see her get a raging case of the gimmes.) Plus, there are usually plenty of shoes that fit her description of comfy and not too girly or too boy-ey. Maryjane's and tennis shoes and crocs for instance. Did my darling little girl stick to those though? Of course not. She latched on to a pair of glittery red slippers just like Dorothy's from The Wizard of Oz. I mean, they WERE cute. They just didn't really go with anything else she had and more importantly, they weren't practical. I tried to use the, "Can you wear those to PE and recess?" excuse. I kid you not, she said, "Well, I'm not SUPPOSED to, but I can just pretend like I forgot it was PE day or you could send a note." What a girl. Am I the only one who thinks that a leopard print sweat suit and glittery red dress shoes isn't a great look?
In the past, I've had success with buying the stuff I want anyway and forcing her to wear it one way or another. For a long time, she was fairly easy to bribe. If she didn't want to wear something I would simply say, "Hey, maybe we should stop and get a treat. If you hurry and get dressed in this we can get to the store faster and choose our treat." or something along those lines. She's gotten WAY too smart for that though, so I didn't bother buying anything she didn't like. Worse, I caved and bought a couple of items that I thought were hideous because I knew she loved them and that she would at least get ready without a fight in the morning.
The only part that REALLY killed me was that I wasn't able to get her hair cut. I had full intentions to get her a cute little back to school cut. We've always compromised on a bob. She wants her hair in a shorter pixie / boy cut. She LOVES chunky layers too. So, I get her an inverted bob and we're both happy. Not this time. She's really good at holding still during the hair cut. So, when she was shaking her head around excessively I knew that she was playing hard ball. I tried to be strict and make her behave and she snarled, "I want you to cut my hair really short so my mom can't put any hair pretties in it or I'm not holding still and getting any hair cut!" to the lady. So, I marched her little butt out of there without any back to school hair cut.
Then, she bawled. Like a two year old. I strained to get her writhing body across the crowded mall and through the busy parking lot and shoved her kicking and screaming into the back seat of my car and made sure the doors were set on child lock so she couldn't escape. Then, we sat there. For a really long time. Waiting for her to calm down. Finally, I told Russell how impressed I was with how well behaved he had been all day long and that since he was buckled and quiet I was going to get him an ice cream sundae at McDonald's. Brooke sat up straighter, "I (gasp for breath) wa-wa-wa-want an I-I (gasp for breath) ice cream s-s-sundae. (sigh)
"Well, you have to be good."
"I'll be good."
"Okay, if you promise you're ready to be nice."
We drove the maybe two minute drive over to McDonald's and just as I start to pull through the drive-thru she starts screaming again. All I can say is that poor lady taking our order. I can only imagine what Brooke's banshee cries sound like through a microphone. So, Russell ate his yummy ice cream sundae with Brooke watching him while screaming, "It's not fair! Turn around! I'll be nice! Why does Russell get one? I'll be nice!" The whole 30 minute drive home.
Now... it's my turn to say "No Fair!!!" I had three boys first and when I finally got a girl I can't even have fun dressing her! I sure hope this stubborn side serves her well and she does something good with it when she grows up. Like makes history.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
My adorable little sister is spending some time with us. I love having her here, there is only one small problem: all of the kids fight over her. Brooke comes up to me complaining that she's getting left out. Then, Russell mysteriously complains that Kelsey & Brooke are leaving him out. I'm not sure how it's possible for them both to be left out at the same time, but we've apparently mastered the art. Tatton & Kelsey are basically the same age, so they play together a lot. Brooke & Kelsey are the only girls so they play together a lot too. Lane doesn't always fit into that equation, so he throws a fit about how nobody plays with him. Russell is typically happy playing with the "leftover" kid who is also left out. That is, until Kelsey asks that kid to play with her and Russell gets dropped like a hot potato and he gets his feelings hurt and decides to hurt whoever's feelings HE can. See what I'm saying? There's so much social drama in this house that if I didn't know better I would assume I was in a junior high.
I can only conclude that I knew what I was doing when I had my tubes tied. Many, many times since then I have regretted doing it, but not when we have a 5th kid here. I'm not big on uneven numbers. For some bizarre reason people always pair off and someone gets left out. I remember when I was growing up there were 3 of us girls that were the same age in my neighborhood. You would think that it would be the more the merrier, but we were incapable of all getting along at the same time. I would frequently run home crying to my mom that Emily and Alicia were playing together & wouldn't let me play with them. Before you feel sorry for me, I have to admit, probably more frequently I was the little brat saying, "No we're the best friends and you can't play!" It seemed perfectly natural to be so cruel when I was a kid. Now, I can't imagine acting that way. I'm hoping that means that my kids will grow out of this too. I don't know how much longer I can take, "Get out! This is our fort!" and "Mommmm- Kelsey and I were watching this movie first and we don't want them to watch it with us!" I mean, seriously? Fighting over sitting in the same room staring at the TV in unison? You've got to be kidding me.
This is, of course, largely due to the fact that Kelsey is a novelty. She's a visitor that is here often enough for everyone to have bonded with her but not often enough for the newness of her being around to wear off. The times that she's been here for more extended periods of time the tug-of-war seems to subside and we kind of find our natural rhythm. My kids also do this when we babysit a baby or toddler too. Every one wants to hold the baby and heaven forbid anyone shake the rattle or talk baby talk better than anyone else. So, I suppose it's not that having 5 kids is awful. I guess if we had another we would acclimate just like the times before. Right now though, it seems like 5 is the loneliest number that there ever was.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
I also like the lack of traffic. Sure, being a one stop light town is great for jokes, but seriously- one stop light. How nice is that? There is only one intersection in the entire downtown area that you have to wait at a red light. The worst traffic jam I've ever seen is simply when people have to actually slow down to the speed limit through the school zones. I've been known to complain that we only have one grocery store and I wish it stocked more items (you do have to make a 30 minute trip to get certain items- apparently there isn't a huge demand for tofu noodles and organic stuff here) but I know that store like the back of my hand - which makes for a speedy shopping trip as long as I don't run into someone and start talking. Which is nearly impossible since even going through the checkout line means visiting with the employees (most of whom I either grew up with / grew up with their kids.)
Sometimes knowing everyone is problematic. Occasionally, I think it would be nice to move to a land far, far away where no one knows anything about me and my extended family. Having your kids have the same teachers that you did has it's pros & cons, of course. To our family, I think the pros of living here outweigh the cons though. Last night, Brooke & I power walked up Strawberry Hill while Russell was at soccer. Growing up that was my stomping grounds. It was so fun to be able to answer Brooke's questions: "What color was that house when you were a kid?" , "Do the same people still live on this street?", "Did you used to pick apples from that tree when you were a kid like me?"
As August has neared its end and the grey skies and rain have engulfed us, thoughts of moving somewhere sunny and warm or at least somewhere that has 4 seasons have crossed my mind. I think when it comes down to it though, this is where I want to be. In my safe & familiar small town where my kids care more about climbing trees than fashion and the most I ever need for directions is a street name.
There's a for sale sign on a big old' rusty tractor
You can't miss it, Its the first thing that you see
Just up the road, a pale blue water tower
With "I Love Jennie" painted in bright green
Hey That's my Uncle Bill there by the courthouse
He'll be lowering the flag when the sun goes down
And this is My town
(Nana na na na)
Yeah this is my town
(Nana na na na)
HEY! Where I was born
Where I was raised
Where I keep all my yesterdays
Where I ran off cause I got mad
And it came to blows with my old man
Well I came back and settled down
It's where they'll put me in the ground
Yeah this is My town
(Nana na na na)
Yeah this is My town
(Nana na na na)
- Montgomery Gentry
BTW, I tried to include a photo of downtown Elma but whenever I googled it I kept getting a link for e-podunk.com. Seriously. LOL
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
These pictures aren't fabulous. I had to take them with my camera phone since my good camera's battery was dead. I think they're pretty cute though. This shark was left in our storage shed by the people who lived here before us. The kids dug it out and took turns being eating alive. The "blood" on Russ is taco sauce. Then, they got out a tub of homemade play dough and came up with some fairly imaginative creations. We started to refinish a dresser for Brooke's room. Word to the wise, never attempt painting furniture with 4 children if you want decent results. I'm trying to look at the crazy streaked and clumpy paint job as a personal touch that makes the dresser "special".
In other news.... my daughter has become my biggest inspiration for losing weight. I believe she may have a future in being a personal trainer or perhaps an image consultant. It started last week when I took the kids swimming. I, of course, was sitting on the shore observing while wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Brooke walks up and says, "Why don't you swim with us? Is it because you're too fat to wear a bathing suit?" Nice. I tell her I'd rather just watch them and make sure they're safe. Brooke says, "Are you mad you're so fat? I would be really mad if I was as fat as you." Mindful of wanting to model self-acceptance and a confident body image I lie to her and say, "No. I love my body." She, of course, goes on to try to explain all of the reasons why I shouldn't love my body. Among them: "You're not pretty like you used to be when you were a teenager." Well, duh.
I thought we had moved on but she brought it up again the next day. I was sitting at the computer (shocking) and she came up and asked me why I sit around too much. "You need to work out more." I agreed. She kept staring at me (looking a little bit too much like the little girl from The Ring.) "What?", I ask. "You need to work out." "I know." "Now." I could have pulled Mom rank and told her to knock it off, but the girl did have a point. So, I logged off the computer and hopped on the elliptical. For the first ten minutes Brooke jumped up and down clapping her hands like my little cheerleader. "Faster! Don't be lazy! Exercise more!" Then, she offered me a water break and told me that I have to start drinking more water.
Later, (hungry from my workout ;-) I was snacking on chips & salsa. She looked at me and shook her head putting her hands on her hips, "Mom! What are you doing eating that?" "What? Salsa is made from fruits & vegetables", I say sheepishly. "The chips are junk food.", she chastised me. "I'll only eat a couple." "they're deep fried and salty!", she said. By this point I was starting to feel a little impressed by her knowledge. "Where did you learn so much about health & fitness?", I ask her. "From that nutrition lady at school.", she said casually. Tax dollars at work, people.
So... I've been making an effort. I've been getting in a couple of hours of exercise a day and only eating foods with a low glycemic index. Not that I haven't tried all of this before, but I have a sneaking suspicion I might do better at it now that I have a pair of prying blue eyes following me around and holding me accountable. Now, if I could just get her to quit nagging me to wax my eyebrows and dye my hair! LOL What a girl.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Numbers, on the other hand, are cruel & ugly things. Case in point, we have a new scale in the bathroom. Have I dared step on it yet? Absolutely not! It's tempted me, silently calling my name from its place in the corner, "Aren't you curious? Don't you want to know?" I just know in the pit of my pudgy stomach that I'm not going to like that number though. I'm sure it's right up there with those other despised numbers: gas prices, Iraqi death toll, my stroke threatening blood pressure. See? Numbers are terrible things. Lane would disagree with me. When he was in first grade and Tatton was a very phonetic preschooler, Tatton was sounding out an easy reader book. Lane walked up and gave him some big brotherly advice, "Don't bother. The English language is so confusing. Just learn math. Math is about facts." Now, I see Lane's point. I do. All this I before E except after C stuff can be a little bewildering if you think about it. All you have to do is sit and watch an elementary school spelling bee to be reminded of how deceptive some words can be. I don't know... I just love them though, warts and all. Give me a journalism class over an accounting class any day. And all you number lovers out there- we're just going to have to agree to disagree.
I can tell that the local teenagers are sensing the end of summer creeping up too. We've had a lot more craziness going on at the park. I've had to call the sheriff's department twice this week because their drag racing and loud base music at all hours of the night was getting out of hand. We've had a few minor vandelism type things too and I REALLY don't want to give anyone the opportunity to leave me a nasty mess to clean up if I can help it. I typically hold off on calling the sheriff's department if I can. I don't want to be the annoying lady who constantly calls & drives them crazy when they're already busy & I know that kids will be kids. More often than not all we have to do is just drive a vehicle towards them and they start driving off. Park caretakers coming makes teenagers flock out the exit gate like a herd of cattle. Kind of makes me wonder sometimes what exactly they were doing that was so terrible that they act so sheepish and feel the need to run. Obviously, I have some idea, but sheesh! If you know that what you are doing is bad enough that you don't want to get caught, maybe you should think twice about whether or not you REALLY want to do it?
It's still slightly disturbing to me to see so many people coming here to the park and acting the ways that they do though. I worry that the kids that are racing on the road will get in a wreck and that they're drinking & driving. I wish I could knock on the fogged up car windows and tell them to be careful - warn them that teenage pregnancy is hard for all involved. Even the middle aged people having affairs... What are they thinking? Why on earth would you not only risk hurting your loved ones and breaking up your family, but at a park? By a children's playground? Come on, people! You couldn't come up with a better location than that?
Anyway... just thinking (since I'm not sleeping.) I'm honestly not as frumpy and judgemental as I sound. I was a teenager myself just a decade ago, but it's been a LONG decade. Having 4 kids of my own makes me feel parental towards these teenagers running around town at 2 AM. It makes me fear for my kids (Lane's already turning 12 in 11 weeks for crying out loud!) There's not a lot to do in Elma. The other night when the sheriff's cars were pulling up outside I was shamelessly promoting "being on the good guy's side" to my kids who were all excitedly watching out the window. I kept telling them I feel bad having to call the police, but I just care too much about those kids out there and don't want them to get hurt making bad choices. I must have repeated 10 times, "Isn't it a good feeling to be on the good guy's side and to help protect those kids? Those officers are going to make sure they're safe." I don't know that my kids really got the message or not. For all I know they were probably thinking that I'm a big party pooper always ruining people's fun, but I'm HOPING that they get some idea from watching me call the police on strangers that these things are important and that I have no quelms about doing whatever it takes to protect them also.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Unfortunately, my wrinkle is still there. I am happy to still be able to move my face though. Gotta "express myself".
We finally went to the fair this weekend. I was bummed all week 'cause I felt like we were missing something huge. Between Brooke's surgery and Dustin's stomach flu we just weren't up to it. Finally, we loaded up the troops and made a day of it. In the rain. With Dustin's stomach still upset. And Brooke running a low grade fever. And me having a migraine and excruciatingly painful ovaries that make me feel nauseus. (Not that you NEEDED to know that.) What a bunch of grouchy people we were. I can't remember ever having this little fun at the fair. I'd like to think that the boys had fun though. I feel like this summer has been such a disappointment to them. I couldn't bear the thought of missing out on yet another tradition / memory. They simply had to pig out on greasy, sugary, salty food and go on rides until they were green. I just know that they're already going to be the kids that stare blankly and answerless when asked, "What did you do this summer?"
BTW, I'm loving FreecycleGraysharbor@yahoogroups.com You can find practically anything on there! For FREE! I'm shocked at some of the things people are giving away. I got a used computer system for the kids to play their cd-roms on so I can have my computer to myself. I found Brooke a bunkbed, although I need to go look at it before I know if I want it for sure. That's the only problem I've found is that since everything's used it isn't necessarily in perfect condition. But FREE! That's my kind of price.
Friday, August 8, 2008
I'm not sure that I like that quote. Although, I do agree with it. My problem with it lies in the fact that if I'm being honest with myself I have to admit that I'm a complete idealist. My mind survives by walking down parallel alleys that only exist in Norman Rockwell paintings. I've been disappointed plenty though and I don't THINK I'm cynical. Atleast, I don't want to be a cynic.Sure, I don't expect much out of people anymore, but I tell myself that's because it's better to be pleasantly surprised when my low standards are surpassed. I tried having high standards before but it was exhausting always being frustrated when they couldn't be met. True, I'm at a loss when someone asks me who my hero is. I don't get what the big deal about heroes is anyway... What's the fascination with idolizing people? We're all human. Doesn't that somehow level the playing field? Seems to me all the big names are just a sex / steroid / drug scandal away from being unseated anyhow. But I'm not a cynic or anything. ;-)
The problem with idealism is simply that the root of the word is ideal and another meaning for ideal is perfect. I'm pretty sure perfection has to be some sort of curse. Nothing good can come of it. Just think about it. What makes us the strongest? Struggles. Overcoming the odds. Laughing in the face of adversity. With that in mind, who would ever want everything to be perfect? What a rip-off! Where do you go from there? At least when you hit rock bottom the only place to go is up. I'm assuming the only place to go is down when you reach the top?
I'll still always ooh and ahh over all things classicly ideal: white picket fences and rocking chairs on covered front porches, lemonade stands and tire swings, little girls running around in Easter dresses, and the smell of cookies baking for after school snack. I'll still never feel like a good enough parent if we don't keep traditions like going to the pumpkin farm and making smores on campouts. I'll always feel sad that the classic stereotypical family with both a mother and a father is now considered an old fashioned luxury and most of us eat food out of packages because we don't have the time or the skills to do it the way our grandparents did. My dream life is a sort of Pollyanna meets 1950's suburbia meets Little House On The Prairie wannabe existence. If I'm not an idealist then I don't know what else to call it...
I just don't like to think that somewhere between being a person who recognizes a certain way that they wish things could be and being a person who has lived enough to know that they can't always get their way you become a person who is jaded and negative. I'd like to think that the same attitude that makes a person want things to be good and ideal can help them overcome the urge to become a cynic. We can be idealists about our personalities too can't we?
"If we listened to our intellect, we'd never have a love affair. We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go into business, because we'd be cynical. Well, that's nonsense. You've got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down."
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Brooke's surgery on Tuesday went well. She seems to have quite a bit of energy and she hasn't been in too much pain. The hardest part was just coming out of anesthesia. I think they kind of over medicated her. She had Tylenol w/ codeine and Valium when we first got admitted, then they gave her the regular gas mask (strawberry flavored) anesthetic, she responded badly to that and instead of going out she started flipping out, so they had to give her morphine and belted her down. She got really upset when she woke up so they gave her some percocet... To say the least, when she got to the recovery room she was really drowsy and confused. Her heart rate was erratic and her oxygen levels kept dipping too low. Her throat was irritated from the breathing tube and swelling, so she needed a breathing treatment with epinephrine.
While I was busy worrying about Brooke, poor Dustin got queasy and passed out without me noticing. He says he tried to tap my hand to warn me, but I was too concerned about Brooke's dipping oxygen levels. So, I'm not sure exactly how long he was out before I noticed. My hand brushed the side of his hand and I realized it was freezing and soaked. I looked over at him and his face was blue and his eyes were rolling. I tried to shake him and call his name, but he was OUT. I turned to the nurse and said, "I can't wake him up!" and she called Code. While all of the staff was basically running to our room, I acted on instinct and slapped Dustin across the face. (I still feel a LITTLE bad about that.) He, of course, came to and looked around at all the drama - completely unaware of what was going on. Brooke's anesthesiologist ran in saying, "Which patient is it?" When the nurse said, "Not the patient. The Dad." He looked at Dustin sitting there now wide awake and got the most hilarious look on his face (sort of a mix of amusement and disgust- like, "Are you kidding me?") They forced Dustin to lay on a stretcher while he waited for the medics to arrive. (It's hospital policy that you have to get a full work up when something like this happens, but they had to call in the fire department to do it since we were at a children's hospital.) He, of course, was a picture of health on paper with a beautiful EKG, perfect blood pressure and blood sugar levels. (Actually, I would LOVE to have those numbers. My blood pressure is almost double his.)
Two hours later, Dustin had gotten his "physical" and Brooke's medicine was starting to wear off. It was funny, she went from laying there talking nonsense to sitting up and asking for her popsicle just all of a sudden. Which was such a relief. I felt like we went from this major high stress crisis moment to everything being fine all at once & they were telling us we could go home. Yay! Considering that I had originally been told that we would probably be out of the hospital at 9:30 AM and here it was 1:00 PM, that felt like a big deal.
Brooke's surgery obviously didn't hurt her guilt tripping skills. She was quick to ask if we could stop at Blockbuster to rent a Dora movie (something she had declared herself too old for last month when she turned 6, but apparently Dora is her "comfort show"). We went into Blockbuster as requested and she loaded her arms up with several dvds. When she was told that we were planning on getting just one or two she said, "But my throat hurts REALLY bad. I deserve these." She also needed a trip to McDonald's for a milkshake and mcchicken sandwich. I wasn't sure if she could handle eating the sandwich yet, but she proved me wrong.
Since we got home she has been a trooper. She grimaces when taking her medicine, but doesn't fight it. The biggest issue we have encountered is that when she takes a drink it comes squirting out her nose. Apparently, her adenoids were always so big that she didn't ever learn to think about that when she swallowed. She CAN drink without having fluids come out of her nose now, but only if she makes a conscious effort to take small sips and swallow carefully. I'm hoping that after a little practice she'll do it that way every time without incident. I mean, the thought of her going through life with this problem seems rather terrible. Another issue that she's found is that she doesn't love her new sense of smell. Her nose has always been so stuffed up that she couldn't smell much. To suddenly be able to smell everything has been kind of overwhelming for her. She keeps gagging from all the nasty smells. I have to admit, it's kind of funny to see her going around the house gagging over smells and squirting drinks out her nose. Tatton had this same surgery but he never had these problems. I don't know if that's because he was only 2 years old vs. her 6 years old when he had his operation or if her adenoids were just bigger and therefore more noticeable when gone? Who knows?
Anyway... just thought I'd let ya'all know how her surgery went. Aside from everything I've just said, I think it was a success. She's already noticed that she's sleeping a lot better. The first morning she woke up and said, "Hey! I can tell I didn't snore last night 'cause I'm not tired!" Hopefully, now she can also notice a difference this winter and not miss as much school!
Unfortunately, Dustin came down with a really bad flu yesterday and so I technically have two patients (thank goodness Brooke is doing as well as she is or I would really be pulling my hair out.) As it is, I'm pretty tired from all of the demanding, whining, and grouchiness. Like I said, Brooke hasn't been TOO bad considering - so you know who I'm talking about. ;-)
Monday, August 4, 2008
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Russell- has an iron will. Once he is determined to do something nothing will stop him. He enjoys nothing more than working hard & is a perfectionist who prides himself on a job well done. Russell is really athletic and throws a mean spiral. He would probably be even better at sports if the poor kid could see. He wears some pretty thick glasses. Right now we're anxiously awaiting his replacement pair to come in as he's broken his other pairs (again.) I forget how bad his sight really is until times like this when he doesn't have his glasses. Yesterday, we went to Walmart and there were these ladies with two toddlers on those leash things. He asked why there were dogs in the store. I told him that they were kids and he squinted his eyes up and shook his head, "NO. Those are dogs, Mom." Cracks me up. Poor blind kid. Russell wants to work with his dad when he grows up. He loves the heavy equipment more than any of our other kids and enjoys riding along on deliveries in the low-boy. Probably 'cause he thinks it's "manly". Russell loves all things macho. When he was 3 he was watching Bambi and he announced that he wanted to go hunting. He doesn't love living at the park, because to him it's a deterrent to us living where he really wants to live- a farm. Probably such a mom thing to say, but I think Russell is just an all around good, easy to raise kid and I appreciate his good attitude & hope he stays this awesome forever.
Brooke- Last but not least is our princess. Not unlike the Princess & The Pea she is one extremely sensitive girl. She refuses to wear anything that isn't comfortable which means almost everything in her wardrobe is 100% cotton and stretchy and tagless (sweat pants and t-shirt dresses are her faves.) She prefers to keep her hair bobbed just below her chin because it's easier that way and she loves Junie B. Jones books. She gets eczema and a stuffy nose when she has dairy products, but she begs for macaroni & cheese and cheetos. Brooke has the luxury of having nice big brothers who indulge her bossiness and she pretty much rules the roost and dictates which games they play. She is also the type of girl who gets attached very quickly and loves very deeply. She draws pictures of herself with her friends and family & writes "I love you so much" and "best friends forever" on them. She cried for 2 weeks before the end of school and 2 more weeks after it ended because she loved Mrs. Stein so much and didn't want her kindergarten year to come to a close. Brooke doesn't like things that are TOO girly. She's not a total tomboy, but I think when you have 3 big brothers you learn to be cautious about choosing pink over blue. She strikes a balance by doing things like wearing her earrings but making sure she has her hair covering them so she's not "too cute" and playing games like house but having a cool career like being a secret agent or firefighter on the game. She brings her baby dolls to me and says, "Mom? Can you babysit? I have to go fight the bad guys."
Well, that's a little bit about my kids. Most of you know all this already, but I figured I would write it all down for posterity's sake since I'm sure they won't be like this forever.