Forks and Crap

About a year ago I wrote a post about wanting to stick a fork in my eye. I would link this post to that one, but I'm too tired. It has been another one of those days. Jeff is out making an ice cream run for me while I cook up some hot fudge. To heck with healthy choices. A good helping or two, or three, should put things right into perspective.

And tomorrow's another day. That is one piece of my mother's advice which has endured the test of time and one which I actually live by. Daily. Selah.

Rise and Shine

More morning Bible reading, please!

Lightening Up

It is okay if your son whose hair you first had trimmed at three weeks of age and you have continued to groom obsessively and often now wants to grow it long. Over his ears even. It is okay.

It is okay if he doesn't think the super fast running shoes that you think would be the ideal school shoes are cool. For three years in a row.

It is okay if your daughters whose hair is finally long enough to braid and wear in a variety of cute accessories now both want Dorothy Hamil do's right before school starts.

It is okay to let your older daughter pack her own suitcase from time to time.

It is okay if your smaller daughter, out of a closet full of darling garments, chooses to wear a large t-shirt so long it covers her shorts, with socks, with Crocs (fake black ones), out for a day of shopping with her hair clean and combed, but down.

It probably not very nice, but it is also okay if your son tells her she looks like she doesn't belong in our family on said outing.

These are lessons I have learned lately.

Small, but huge. Let kids be kids. Let them be themselves. Let them make some decisions and live with them.

And above all...lighten the heck UP!

Passing the Buck

A dollar just doesn't go as far as it used to.

Bedtime is still stressful around this house. Andrew has gotten worlds easier, FINALLY, especially after we moved to this house. Kathryn never was difficult. Most nights, once she is actually IN bed, she falls to sleep within minutes and almost NEVER gets up or complains about anything. David is a baby, so he poses baby-like challenges, but he is manageable more than the majority of the time. Hmm, that leaves just one. And her name isn't Jeff. Sheesh.

I love this girl, but DANG she can be difficult, and I guess in this way she is her mother's daughter. Nothing is ever quite right. The temperature, the direction of the fan, the direction of the wind, the music, the lunar activity...I said prayers while standing on the bunk ladder when she wanted me to be lying down with her. I didn't kiss her. I didn't look at her when I kissed her. She didn't want a kiss, but I kissed her anyway. I left the room without officially saying "goodnight" in the proper tone of voice.

Okay, it isn't ALWAYS that bad and I don't mean to imply that I always strive to meet her every demand at bedtime either. Lots of times they go ignored entirely. But one common demand, or at least request, is that she sleep somewhere other than her own bed. She is very creative and persuasive in her arguments almost every single night of the week. And every night she asks, the answer is the same. Why won't she just give up?

So last night she still had a half hour until her designated time, but I began mentally preparing her, trying to face most of the obstacles before actually entering her bedroom. I don't usually resort to bribery tactics, but in desperation I suggested that if she would consistently go to bed without complaining, specifically NOT asking to sleep anywhere but in her bed, for seven consecutive nights I would give her a dollar.

Her first response was, "Why would you give me free money when you are always saying you don't have enough of it? That doesn't make ANY sense!"

I explained that I would be delighted to cough up a buck if she would comply with my request, but that there would be no bonus after the introductory offer. I told her it was just a challenge to see if she could really do it. I thought this might entice her.

Her next argument was, "What if Andrew and Kathryn find out about it and get upset that they aren't getting a dollar too?" I softly assured her it would be our secret.

She pondered the proposal briefly before her face lit up and she began to whisper back the details as if to go over the fine print before signing her name on the dotted line.

"So, if I go to bed without complaining...for a whole week...you will give me one dollar...and you won't tell Andrew OR Kathryn?" Her eyes sparkled.

"Yes!!!!!" I whispered.

"I don't want to do that though," she murmured with a frown.

"WHY NOT?!" I asked out loud.

"Because that is for SEVEN nights and it is for just ONE dollar."

I briefly considered upping the ante just to see how much she WOULD be willing to do it for, but I did not.

What kind of world do we live in where a 7 year old can't be bribed with a buck any more?

We'll keep working on it.

With no cash incentives.

And shame be upon me for even attempting to buy her good behavior.

Negative Deficit

When you are lacking time and imagination to draft a new post for your stale, moldy blog, but you aren't quite ready to throw it out with last week's pitas, you can always resort to dissing some old geezer from yesteryear.

Yesterday I heard the name "Abba Data", the name of a networking firm in the area, and my thoughts returned to the days when I served as a trustee representing my township on the district library board. Oh those grand and glorious wonder years, oh to be 25 again. Actually, I was more like 27-29, but anyway...

I could have written a book, or a least an entire blog, on the characters that represented the other 5 rural townships and the actual village in which the library was located. Holy smokes. First of all, the median age of the board members was 127. And I wouldn't be surprised if a couple of the members had never left the state of Michigan. In fairness, there were a couple sharper individuals as well. One was the wife of the town dentist and the other was a high school English teacher. Regardless, the meetings were long and intense. Far too intense for a library that serviced fewer than 1500 card-holding patrons per year. But the budget was tight, if not completely blown most months, so we were constantly reviewing expenses and proposing new ways to save money without limiting services.

Should the pages have to clock out to use the toilet? Should they receive a 5 cent raise, or no raise at all this year? Could the library save money by offering dial-up internet service rather than highspeed? And why was it even necessary to offer computer usage in the first place?

Abba Data might have been able to offer some helpful cost-saving solutions if anyone on the board could have pronounced it properly. Abba Dabba is how it came out most of the time, especially from the lips of the elderly interim chairperson who we will call "Ron", not to protect his identity, but because I can't rightly recollect his real name. He would say the funniest things. I wish I could remember more.

Anyhoo, in one heated discussion he pounded the table emphatically stating that this library could not continue operating on a negative deficit. =)

And it didn't have to. One of the main objectives while I was on board was to pass a tax millage increase to generate more funding for operational expenses as well as a brand new facility. It passed by a wide margin the summer after my term expired and the project was completed the summer before we moved from the area.

Oh, I just remembered his name was Dan.

Hungry

You know it is time limit the television consumption of your four year old when she tells you she is "hungry to watch TV" and upon request for clarification you realize she did actually literally mean she was hungering for more television.

Update

Friday's appointment to the oncologist brought the news we were all dreading, but were somewhat prepared to hear: Six to twelve months, with chemotherapy...Six to twelve months, without.

The cancer which just six weeks earlier was "caught early" and was "very operable" was in fact not either of the above. It has apparently been aggressively and viciously advancing, silently, for who knows how long. She first experienced difficulty swallowing and an odd sensation in her chest at the end of April. She saw her doctor in early May. Some other tests were done first to rule out her thyroid, before proceeding with GI testing which led to the discovery of the suspicious growth in her esophagus in mid-June. Days later it was determined to be cancerous. The rest of the time since has been spent getting tests needed in preparation for her upcoming treatment and surgery. And waiting. And waiting. Those of you who are at all familiar with this process know, far better than we could have ever imagined, that this is the name of the game. Waiting for this test to be done, waiting for those results to take to the next appointment which won't be tomorrow, but 2 weeks from tomorrow, to know what the next step MIGHT be.

She had been counting down the days, 16 of them to be exact, until her surgical consultation, which was then just a day away, when she received a phone call saying that she did not need to come to that appointment because there wasn't going to be any surgery. Her latest test results showed her cancer to be inoperable. It had gone from Stage III to IV with the discovery that it had spread to her stomach, to her liver, to a single rib, and to distant lymph nodes.

This was last Wednesday. Friday she saw the oncologist. Sunday she and Jeff's dad flew to San Diego. Monday they crossed the border and are currently in Mexico where she will be receiving treatment at a biomedical hospital for the next three weeks.

They feel cautiously optimistic and encouraged and we already have wonderful stories to tell of support from strangers and answers to prayer.

Thank you for those of you who have offered them on her behalf and on the behalf of our family.
Please don't stop. And I'll keep you posted.

Hear My Cry, O Lord...

This isn't about mice. And it isn't about my children. It's about my mother-in-law.

It was dreadful enough to hear the C word in the same sentence with our loved one for the first time six weeks ago. That would be cancer, esophageal cancer to be exact. The initial report was optimistic, but the reality of the findings since has not been consistent with that hope. Each doctor visit and test result has yielded worse results than the last until, just today, we arrived at nearly the worst case scenario.

Naturally speaking, there is not much reason for hope.

If you are not inclined to pray for divine healing, please pray for comfort, and patience, and wisdom, and peace as life and death decisions are made and we all await the outcome of those decisions.

Her name is Sharon. She is 61. She has 5 children and 14 grandchildren. I am married to her only son. I love her and I want her to live.

Another One Bites the Dust

No riveting tale of the hunt, but I snagged another one in the night. I will allow Jeff the pleasure of disposing of it when he gets home from work. I expect there will be more.

Happy Saturday! =)

Diary of a Mouse Slayer

Oh boy!

It happened again.

In the absence of my manly protection this weekend, I was forced to rise to the occasion and defend my household.

It started out like any other day. I was painting my deck railing, enjoying the exceptionally beautiful day, keeping an ear on David sleeping in the house, while keeping a watchful eye on Kathryn as she frolicked about the yard still in her pajamas and yesterday's ponytails, when suddenly my peripheral mother eyes detected some scurrying activity in the garage.

Aware that there had been a mouse sighting as recently as a couple of weeks ago, as well as evidence of its ongoing presence, I stepped cautiously just inside the garage door expecting it to retreat into one of its many hidden fortresses. But no. No, it did not. It brazenly walked, not ran, to the general vicinity of the steps leading into the house. I would even go so far as to say it STRUTTED, and slowly. It was as if he was taunting me. I might have been able to snatch him with my bare hand if I would have gathered the courage. But I did not. Eventually he did dart from view. I quickly opened a few container's of D-Con, not that it was a quick attack resulting in immediate extermination, but I was thinking I should have put it out a couple weeks ago anyway. As an after thought, I laid out a couple of my sticky traps real strategical-like and went back to work.

I checked back a couple times and found nothing. AND THEN...I got him!

He was quite frantic and quite stuck, and I wondered what kind of sick person I was that this sight filled me with such a sense of jubilation. Probably the same kind of sick person who had the idea of setting him out in the driveway to be finished off by a creature of the sky so that she would not have to think of a more creative and successful method herself. I already had plans for my day and limited time before my boy woke up. Plus, I thought it might be sort of neat to see if the bird got stuck to the sticky trap too. But that only lasted a couple of minutes before the guilt overtook me. There was no need to torture him any further.

So I resorted to my tried and true method of mouse annihilation. I triple WalMart bagged him right up and placed him behind the wheel of Jeff's truck.

And it was finished.

Backward.

Forward.

Trash can out back.

Done.

Back to work.

The deck is all first-coated and half of it is second-coated, and I didn't see any more mice the rest of the day.

The End.

Traveling Light

Ask me to pack a suitcase, and "traveling light" simply does not compute. But, take away half of my kids for the weekend and you are speaking my language. Wahooo!

I find it almost amusing to see how much my perspective has changed with the adding of each arrow to my quiver. Once was the day I was stressed out to the maximus by the duties and interruptions of having just one child. I cringed at the thought of taking him with me to my doctor or dentist appointments. I attempted very little in the way of, well...anything, such has house projects or commitments outside the home of any kind. I had only a couple friends who also had only one child and we would get together often and talk about who knows what all afternoon. Really important stuff, I am sure. Like, how much we had calculated the cost of Huggies and Pampers wipes to be per wipe and which scent of bath wash we liked best. Whether we used liquid fabric softener or dryer sheets, and why we thought it was very important for babies to always wear shoes. Deeper topics of conversation might include how long we pushed during labor and whether we said any swear words or defecated during said phase, and whether we would send our fall birthday infants to Early 5's or straight to kindergarten in five years. I had no hobbies. How could I? What with all my socializing and rigorous personal napping schedule. I was the mother of a small child and I was tired. Who could expect any more of me?

In some ways nothing has changed. I am still tired. And I still love my naps, though they are much fewer and farther between. I still find myself overwhelmed frequently. And why wouldn't I? Having four children is a lot like having one, only there are three more of them.

But yesterday as I breastfed David while getting my teeth cleaned, and while my other three preciouses waited in the waiting room unattended after going garage saling all morning with all four of them, I had a little time to think about what HAS changed. Not just that I now use WalMart brand wipes and I have no idea how much they cost or that it has been months since I have spent time with friends. I pondered how much my adaptation and survival skills had evolved and wondered when this process had taken place. When I had I been able to start doing more with less time and energy? When had I decided it was better to just get up and go and do, with all my 40-12 kids in tow, than to lock myself and them away in the prison of my own home and failed expectations with my lengthy to-do list and the ever-fleeting hope of a nap hanging over head?! I couldn't remember.

Julia left yesterday afternoon for a trip with Amy and family, and Jeff and Andrew are going on a boys-only outing, leaving me with only two, albeit the highest-maintenance two, for the weekend. While it is still one more than I had when I was too consumed and distracted by my one not-even-very demanding child to be of much use in an any other capacity, it seems like quite a vacation. I have already been planning all the projects I will accomplish and all the quiet time I will enjoy in their absence. I am getting my hair colored tonight and I am going to cook some adult food for only me. I might rent a movie, or better yet, read a book...with WORDS.

I still use liquid fabric softener, except for on the days I don't. And I still enjoy the scent of Baby Magic, though I have found that in a pinch dish soap works and smells just fine too. But the best part of what has changed is that having four children means that having only two of them for the weekend means a 50% reduction and that is traveling very darn light!

Gerbie Eats Cereal

All of my babies have been affectionately called "Gerbie" (short of "Gerber") by Aunt Meridith. Last night Gerbie David had cereal for the first time and absolutely could not get enough of it. Nary a drop was wasted. He was not, however, fond of the prune juice I attempted to wash it down with.

Seven, Slowly But Surely

I remember my 7th birthday, where has the time gone? As was the custom in that day, we usually spent it traveling to New Hampshire to bring in the New Year on our knees. Because we couldn't do that in Michigan. Everybody knows God doesn't hear prayers from Michigan, only those from the base of Mt. Monadnock. It's because we say "pop" and "aunt" which rhymes with "pant" instead of "jaunt". God doesn't like those words. =)

Anyway, for some reason Brenda Wargo was along with us and I remember feeling quite mature and worthy of riding in the company of one so classy and cool when she told me I was "growing up slowly, but surely".

Now my secondborn is 7 and is growing up just as surely, but way too
quickly...

Monkey Biz-nass

Okay, a new post. Yeaaaah. Let's see...

After a week and a half of being "health-conscious" I had to splurge. It is unnatural to be good all the time. All we like sheep have gone astray. I love my sweets and I need my bread. So I last night I whooped up some Monkey Bread to enjoy this morning after rising to perfection and soaking in sugar and fat all night. That would be the bread dough, not myself. Oh boy!

For any fellow fat and carb lovers, the night before you just put 15 frozen dinner rolls in a well-greased bundt pan then mix together 1 stick of melted butter, 1 cup of brown sugar, 1 teaspoon (or to taste) of cinnamon, and 1 package of regular (NOT INSTANT) butterscotch pudding mix and pour it over the rolls. Leave them to sit out and rise overnight, uncovered. Bake in the morning at 350*. This part's a little sketchy because I don't have a real recipe, it's a word-of-mouth thing. I think it ended up being around 25 minutes, but I covered them with foil part way through because the tops were getting too brown. When done, remove from oven and let them cool a couple of minutes, then invert on a large serving platter. Allow them to cool a little more, then gobble them up before the rest of your family wakes up.

I have had a good week. I just want to share that for all those who read and are accustomed to my complaining about this, that, and the other thing. I have felt good physically, I have been productive, and I am almost scared to say lest I jinx myself...(shhh, lean a little closer)...I see dead people. =) No, really, I was going to say I feel happy.

(Whoa, that was wicked personal...now I feel all exposed!)

So, I pressure washed my front porch last Friday and Saturday for about 8 hours. It is amazing that water alone can make that much difference. It could look even better with a little more skill and time, but that is as much as I have to give it for now and it was a HUGE improvement. I intend to stain the decking and have already started painting the posts, railings, and spindles white. I love it. Presently it is a very weathered-looking and shoddily applied used-to-be-white. I have also picked a rusty red color called Sly Fox to paint my front door and shutters. Presently the front door is factory primed and I have no shutters. Hooray for color and inexpensive home improvements!

Hey, mom's! An inexpensive craft to dazzle your bored children this summer: FABRIC CRAYONS. Get them. Use them. You just have them draw a picture on a regular sheet of paper with the crayons and then iron them on an item of your choosing following the directions on the package. We did pillowcases for J's birthday this week and you would have thought I brought home a Shetland pony.

Has anyone seen Ratatouille yet? We saw it for J's birthday. Loved it. Makes me only mildly less freaked out to discover some suspicious droppings under my Lazy Susan. I'd be honored to think my kitchen was being used as a training ground for an aspiring chef. =) Not really. I am thoroughly freaked out!

Hey, what do other people keep in that little short cupboard above their refrigerators? I really want to know, please share...

Dedicated

David's Dedication ~ June 24, 2007 ~ 3 Months Old

(I am not crying and Jeff is not stoned...this is just the only closer up of David on his special day.)

(Both sets of grandparents were invited to join in...)

(These are Jeff's parents on the right, just 4 weeks post-triple bypass surgery for his Dad and 5 days post-esophageal cancer diagnosis for his Mom. Please pray for our family.)

2001

A while ago Julia was in the baby's room visiting with me while I fed him or something. To busy herself she began straightening his growing collection of stuffed animals and asking me who had given him each one. When she came to a handsome pair of Snoopy's, I cautioned her to treat them with extra care since they were both "very old". I explained that one of them was a gift for my 5th birthday, how I had dearly loved Snoopy as a youngster, how that love had been one of the reasons I had chosen to do the baby's nursery in Snoopy, and that he was one of the only toys that I still had from childhood. I told her I had received the other one for my 10th birthday which was "a long, long time ago". I could see her taking it all in, feeling privileged to be in the know, and then she asked, "Was that in like 2001 or 2002?"

St. Grandma

What do you do to celebrate your birthday when you are 85 and Catholic? You grab your best good St. Mary and head to the local horse racing track, of course. =)

God bless Jeff's grandmother:

Mother of 15 (+3 pregnancy losses and 1 infant loss...that makes 19!)
Grandmother of 53
Great Grandmother of 79
Great Great Grandmother of 4 with 1 more on the way

This is an amazing woman. As she becomes more confused in her old age, she still calls most of her children by their first and middle names and remembers all of their birth weights. Lay it 3-1 odds, that alone qualifies any woman for sainthood in my book.

Happy Birthday, Grandma!

Lift Your Voice

Kathryn singing as she rides the stationary bicycle next to me:

"Lift your voice like the lowly Jesus, no not one, no not one..."

The words to "Days of Elijah" frequently find themselves where they don't belong.

Hmmm.

Three Things

Three things I miss about living in the country...

1. The little bitty rural post office that had exactly 3 parking spaces where I could safely leave my children in the vehicle without fear of abduction, or of being turned in to Child Protective Services.
2. Being able to water my flowers in my sleep attire. My neighbor is usually applying the daily finishing coat of Turtle Wax to his Jimmy or fertilizing his lawn by the time I make it out for the morning watering. At dusk, he is feather dusting the Jimmy and planting more grass seed. Yes, he's retired. And about the nicest man you'd ever want to meet so maybe it's a fair trade-off for my dead flowers.
   
3. Being able to use a baby monitor without feeling like I am training for a career in espionage. Sheesh! I am always hearing other people's stuff, unfortunately nothing very interesting, unlike when we lived in an apartment and could hear neighbor's conversations on our cordless phone. The other day I could hear hymns playing. Funny thing is that I am not aware of any peoples on our street who have babies or who are church-going folk. So how far away does this monitor pick up? And can they also hear our not-so-very-interesting conversations?

That's all I miss. I hardly live in the center of a hustling bustling city now, you'd laugh if you saw it and knew I was calling it "not the country", but it works for me and I love it! Almost everywhere I go is 3 miles or less away so I have lots more time and energy to blog and not water my flowers.

Do NOT have a happy birthday!

Yesterday was Jeff's birthday and I could not resist snatching up this over-priced talking card just to hear Michael's voice say again and again...


"Reverse psychology is an awesome tool. I don't know if you guys know about it, but basically you make someone think the opposite of what you believe and that tricks them into doing something stupid. Works like a charm!"

Who could resist that?

And it did work like a charm. I tricked him right into having a happy birthday anyway!

Smiley Eyes

Because I haven't posted a photo of the boy in a while...

He's closing in on 12 weeks on Saturday. I believe it is after this milestone that parents usually stop referring to the age of their infants in weeks and begin marking the passage of time in months.
How ever you mark it, it passes too quickly.

Rosa

My son Andrew is a quietly funny boy, not unlike his father. A touch dry, but richly witty, they never miss a chance to interject humor into the otherwise mundane routine of life, without ever drawing much attention to themselves in so doing. Often those outside of their immediate surroundings miss the punchline altogether.

My brother met my husband before I did and came home late one evening to report that he had met the man I was going to marry. When pressed for an explanation, I don't remember much he offered aside from the fact that he had been in the Army and that he was funny..."a Johnny S. in the making" said he. (I assume everyone knows which Johnny I mean, but ask me if you don't.) I was undazzled by his veteran experience, but as for the humor, I knew exactly what he was talking about as soon as I met him a few weeks later. And I knew right then and there I wanted him to father all of my funny children. Okay, not really, but it was truly impressive. He still puts me to shame even on an off day.

All this to say that last night the girls wanted to set up TV trays to doodle upon whilst watching television on the couch. Julia was able to set hers up and get rolling on her own, but Kathryn asked and asked and asked for someone to help her. I was busy with the baby so I asked Andrew to please get her a TV tray. Obediently, he hopped to retrieve it and returned to set it up for her in the very spot he had already been comfortably sitting in. Ever so quietly he said, "I'm giving up my seat...unlike Rosa Parks."

Okay, maybe it's only funny to his mother, but it just struck me so funny and made me thankful that 1) he was paying attention in 4th grade Social Studies and 2) that one of our children has been blessed with a sense of humor...either you got it or you don't...we can spend half an hour telling one of our other children why something is supposed to be funny and she'll still ask with much bewilderment, "But why did you say that?"

Yes, my blog is almost exclusively about my children. And no, I have not lost my identity entirely. If you don't enjoy it, the door is right over there. Thank you, come again! =)

Shortcut

Three things in life are certain: Death. Taxes. This.
And that pride cometh before a fall.
This was but one of the valuable life lessons I learned last week.
I had always prided myself in the fact that THIS had never happened.
Now it has and don't you think it won't happen to you.

No Scab Left Unpicked

It doesn't seem this picture needs further explanation, but feel free to inquire if you can't get what Kathryn's latest obsession is.
Heaven help us!

Tag

Apparently I have been tagged by not one, but two people. I'm not sure I get it, but here goes...this is for Loreo and Auntie Hesper.

7 Lesser Known Facts About Me

1. I have six fillings.
2. I have never been able to hula hoop.
3. I hated the beloved movie Titanic.
   
4. I voted for Clinton in '96.
   
5. I sneaked to wear "slacks" in 1st grade.
   
6. I frequently sneak treats into the dark bathroom to avoid sharing with my family.
   
7. I am considering starting a support group called Sneakers Anonymous.
   

6 Weeks

Day at the Lake

Yesterday we spent the afternoon traveling the shore of Lake Huron checking out a new spot to camp for Fourth of July this year. It's gonna be a good one!

And once again, David slept through all the fun.

Ode to the Mama and the Papa

Before I am accused of plagiarism by someone whose name sounds a lot like...umm...Leaf Haxwell, I will say these words below are NOT mine. They are those of a country singer named Tracy Lawrence, if he even wrote them himself, but he sings them on his album called For the Love.

I had just recently heard this song, Find Out Who Your Friends Are, and had just told Jeff about it two weeks ago today, the day before David got sick and I called my Mom in the twilight hours of Sunday to come to our rescue. I had told him that it made me think of my parents and their friendship and ministry to us...and to the rest of their family...and to the rest of everyone they know, including many of you who read my blog and so I wanted to share the lyrics with you. If I were a little more techy I might figure out how to link it to the actual song for you to listen to, but this will have to do for now.

The words that stand out most to me are "Never stop to think 'what's in it for me?' or 'it's way too far,' they just show on up with their big old hearts".

I love them and strive to be like them in this way. I am blessed with the love and support of many friends and other family members and I mean no disrespect to them by praising my parents in this way, but I just want to recognize them and acknowledge to the world how many times they have dropped everything to be a "big blessing" to me, to my family, and to many others. My Mom came at a moment's notice to care for my children and altered her schedule to accommodate theirs for the next few days. My Dad babysat Kathryn while the older children were at school and my Mom was at work, not only for the days we were at the hospital, but one more night and another morning after we were home so I could get some rest and take David to a follow up appointment without Kathryn in tow.

So without further adieu, here are the lyrics, and for the record, I have actually run my car off the side of the road AND gotten stuck in a ditch way out in the middle of nowhere...

FIND OUT WHO YOUR FRIENDS ARE

Run your car off the side of the road
Get stuck in a ditch way out in the middle of nowhere
Get yourself in a bind lose the shirt off your back
Need a floor need a couch need a bus fare

This is where the rubber meets the road
This is where the cream is gonna rise
This is what you really didn't know
This is where the truth don't lie

You find out who you're friends are
Somebody's gonna drop everything
Run out and crank up their car
Hit the gas get there fast
Never stop to think 'what's in it for me' or 'it's way too far'
They just show on up with their big old heart
You find out who you're friends are

Everybody wants to slap your back
Wants to shake your hand
When you're up on top of that mountain
But let one of those rocks give way then you slide back down look up
and see who's around then

This ain't where the road comes to an end
This ain't where the bandwagon stops
This is just one of those times when
A lot of folks jump off

When the water's high
When the weather's not so fair
When the well runs dry
Who's gonna be there

PICU

Two weeks ago David had a short, but somewhat scary stay in the local pediatric intensive care unit due to a high fever of unknown origin. After all night of screaming inconsolably, and after saying many prayers for his comfort AND for our sanity, I thought to take his temperature. It wasn't high by my veteran mother standards, but I suspected at his age it was considered a medical emergency. A 5 a.m. call to the pediatrician confirmed that we needed to get him to the emergency room STAT. We called my Mom who came right away to stay with the other children and we quickly packed up and sped off to the ER. We got to cut to the ahead of the line due to his age (and his volume) and he was admitted almost immediately after being evaluated. He had to endure a battery of tests, including a spinal tap, to rule out septic infection. Fortunately, they all came back with favorable results, though he was treated the same as if he had anthrax as a preventive measure. Not really, of course, but they did take it very seriously, as well they should have. He was in isolation for the first 36 hours and was on two IV antibiotics and fluid IVs for 48+ hours. He responded quickly, and thankfully that was the end of that. He got to come home before spending a third night. He has made a full recovery and is thriving. His weight at the time he was discharged showed a gain of just one ounce less than two pounds over his birth weight, and he had grown an inch and a half.

Lots has happened since then. I wish I had time to write more. Not only for the reading pleasure of my many, MANY (tee hee) fans, but also because the time is passing so quickly and this was supposed to be a kind of a journal to document my days of parenting for my own benefit and record...as in a journal...as in entries which are posted daily, or weekly, or even bi-weekly...yeah, I'm going to work on that along with maybe one or two other shortcomings I have.

Happy Day After Easter!

2 Weeks Today

As you can see...he loves my kisses a LOT!

10 Days Old Already

And then there were SIX...

And here he is...

The fervent prayer of a righteous man...

and a timely epidural...
availeth much!
David Alexander
March 24, 2007 6:29 pm
8 pounds 5 ounces - 21 inches

Here he was...

At 38 Weeks - March 18, 2007

Because it's all about my kids...

Kathryn, in her bedtime prayer the night before church, as she nervously anticipated crossing paths with the Sunday School bully:

"Because, God, we know you don't like kids who kick little girls..."

Butless

Pronunciation:
\ˈbət-less\

Function:
noun

Meaning:
a female who performs the duties traditionally held by a butler according to Andrew when I inquired of him who the HECK an otherwise nameless female character was in the movie he was watching

Used in a sentence:
"Oh, she is like their butless."

As soon as the word was off his tongue he realized his faux pas, though it seemed like a perfectly logical error (and explanation) to me. I knew what he meant straightaway and neither of us could stop laughing.

That's my boy!

Gideon

I am breaking my blogging silence to share...

This afternoon during Andrew's visit to the pediatrician's office, Kathryn opened the book drawer in the exam room and spotted a Bible amongst the sea of standard kid-friendly mainstays. She promptly and gleefully informed me..."Mama, it's a Bible." But not only did she correctly identify it, she followed it up with "...a GIDEON Bible".

As I smugly smirked to myself that she had recognized the Gideon symbol and had known what to call it, I wondered if the doctor of middle-eastern descent, and presumably Muslim persuasion, would take notice.

Kathryn took her seat on the footstool and began perusing the pages as she "read" aloud...

"In the Bible, Gideon was the first to be PREGNANT..."

Yup, train 'em up in the way they should go...and no, the doctor didn't even seem to notice...the Bible or the scripture recitation.

Belated Christmas Photos

Christmas Eve at Gramma & Papa Hazen's

Amelia Bedelia "holds her gift up by the tree" just as she had been instructed.

Christmas Morning at Home

Could these sleepy children possibly be the same rascals who woke US up only minutes earlier to get this party started?

A Memorable Christmas Day with the Jackson's

Could this week get any better?

My week started with Liane delivering a delicious feast to my doorstep after driving 40 miles one way amid falling freezing precipitation. Lasagna, salad, garlic toast, and best of all...Edy's Girl Scout Tagalong Cookie ice cream, which was Keith's contribution. Whilst she was here my long-awaited area rug I had ordered for my dining room finally arrived. Both treats made the fact that I had to work that night seem not quite so bad.

Tuesdee, my Mama came, as promised, to assist in painting my bedroom. She did an exceptional job rolling the ceiling and edging the walls so all I had to do was roll the walls after her. The end result was so much better than I had even hoped. The right color applied skillfully makes all the difference.

(BTW: I highly recommend Riviera Sand by Behr. And my mom's number is...)

Wednesday I saw that it was all good and I rested...CHA!...what would that be like?

And THEN today (or I guess it would be yesterday now)...I got to go to Sam's Club with my best good friend Amy with NO kids in the middle of the day...count them...N-O...no, not one! That in itself would have been most triumphant, but THEN we got really wild and decided to go to Lowe's too. WILD I tell you! So as we were driving along in my pimped out mini-van with a month's provisions rolling around in the back, munching on Sam's trail mix, spitting out the raisins, we heard our favorite Def Leppard song ever. For a brief moment we were lost in our care-free, big hair, riding around in the back of the station wagon days of 1988.

I had to go to work again tonight and it was a somewhat stick-a-fork-in-my-eye-AGAIN stressful night, but reflections of my week of goodness sustained me.

Thank God for the joy of lasting friendships/second-cousinships and Mama's who give so selflessly.

And for Def Leppard.

And for 10% off Lowe's coupons.

And for being able to rest assured that I have 500 ZipLoc bags, 280 BandAids, and 4 tubes of Crest stockpiled in case the tribulation starts before I can make it back to Sam's.

And now I get to go sleep my first night in my new room that Jeff finished assembling while I was working tonight.

Thank God for him too.

Selah.

Helen Keller

I don't know where to start. My life has been chock-full of all manner of blog-worthy incidents since I last wrote...

So we moved December 15 and have been going non-stop e'er since. Actually non-stop for the month or so prior to the move. Anyway, we are here as I have already indicated in my previous post, and we are getting settled slowwwwly as we have had a lot of projects to do in the process.

I will start by saying we LOVE LOVE LOVE our new house and location. Not because it is mansion, but because it suits us and our needs as a family so much better than our last house. Tisn't glamorous, but highly functional, especially with the new babe on the way. I just want to say this so that anything else I say about the house won't sound as if I am bragging about OR dissing our new abode.

So we love it and are ever so thankful for it, but yeaaaah, the previous homeowners...we don't know them, but from all we have been able to ascertain at cursory glance...handy people they were NOT. And clean people they were NOT. And painters they were NOT. And the builder was no finish carpenter his own self. I joke that he subcontracted that job to Helen Keller Custom Finishing. It's almost hilarious! Structurally it has passed inspections with flying colors, but aesthetically in some areas, oh MAN!

Take for example one small 4'x6' half bathroom in which they attempted to hang 3 towel racks/toilet paper holders. There were twelve holes for each fixture. Yes, TWELVE, and not small little tap, tap, tap brad holes...they were gaping screw holes in which anchors had been attempted to be placed, but had either fallen out or sunken so deep into the wall that some serious go-go gadgetry would be needed to fish them out. Looked like four holes for each attempt, before finally hitting it "right", but still not quite rightly level and still usually able to be pulled out of the drywall with one gentle Kathryn-sized tug. Then add another 6 or 8 holes for other wall hangings. But to their credit, they did try to patch some of 9 holes under the bathroom mirror THAT THEY TOOK WITH THEM with some home-fashioned patching concoction, leaving behind large barely sandable globs as evidence, lest their act of kindness be overlooked. Needless to say my finishing of said potty room was a huge triumph this weekend. The painting was easy part, it had taken me a whole day of patching and priming with multiple coats to get to that point. I can't stop walking in there to inspect my handiwork. So far it has been the most dramatic transformation in the house. I wish I would have taken before and after photos.

The whole house, with the exception of the girls' burn-your-retinas-off pink room, was antique white...walls and ceilings throughout in varying sheens, but primarily flat and semi-gloss...my two least favorite paints. Flat on the wall, semi on the ceiling. =) (I told you it was funny!) But it has all been re-painted now, with the exception of our bedroom/bathroom, the laundry room, and what will be the baby's room. My mother is coming over tomorrow to help with our bedroom and bathroom. Jeff's parents have been an enormous help as well. Together, our mothers painted most of the first floor, the walls going up the stairs, the hall, and the kids' rooms and main bathroom...walls AND ceilings all within the first 4 days of our moving in...all in the week before Christmas. "Blessed!" Amy did all the taping and made lunch for the work crew. BLESSED! (Was that enough personal glory, man?!)

And Jeff wasn't napping through all of this of course. He busy ripping out the yummy carpeting and padding so it could be replaced that week as well. Did I mention this house is only 3 years old?! I'm telling you...these people...it seems like you would have to TRY to trash a house so quickly. I can't imagine.

Anyway, the kids started their new school January 4 and have transitioned very well. I am so relieved. I hated to make them switch schools mid-year, but they appear not to have suffered a second. It helped that their beloved cousins, Austin and Lexie, already attended that school. It is only a mile away which I LOVE and the starting time is an hour and ten minutes later than their old school. LOVE! We actually have time to get up and ready at a somewhat leisurely pace. We have time for baths in the morning and a real breakfast and still have to try not to get there too early. All this in contrast to the letter I received a week before leaving the last district threatening to turn my children in to the county truancy officer if their excessive tardiness continued. Good stuff! And Jeff and I are enjoying 5-6 minute commutes to work versus the 30 minute ones we used to loathe. It's all good.

Let's see...what other cliches can I come up with? Oh yes...I need to make like a church and split...=)...tee hee...lest any K folk get up in arms about that, I'm actually poking fun at my own current church situation. But that's another story. And it's really not funny. But might's well laugh as cry.

Good day!

Further Notice

We are all moved and have survived the holidays...wheew!...and by "holidays" I do mean "holiday" which means Christmas, not to be confused with Hanukkah, Ramadan, Kwanzaa, or Festivus.

I hope to post more soon, including some photos, but for now I must keep my nose to the grindstone and keep unpacking...box after box after box...who knew we had so much CRAP?!

I mustn't give too much away, but I will leave you all with this: we are now the proud owners of a real, once-alive, stuffed opossum, thanks to the generosity of Jeff's sister Meridith.

Thank you a LOT! =)

Happy New Year to all!

Julia's Grill

Word on the street is Julia lost her first tooth last night at a birthday sleepover for her best good friend Ella. Apparently it came out all on its own in the night. Surely this will be a sign of their eternal bond of friendship as Ella lost the same tooth, the same tooth that was being crowded out by an already erupting adult tooth behind it, when Julia slept over just two weeks ago.
BFF!

Memory Lane

P'raps I should send Flat Stanley to that one cousin of mine who just left for Israel so he could show him around. I mean, what other Flat Stanley in that class could say he has been from Goshen to Beulah?

Project Flat Stanley

My nephew Ethan's Flat Stanley accompanied us on our weekend adventure.

Stanley didn't believe he was capable of performing the emergency functions outlined on the card so he swapped his wing exit seat for a window seat in the back.

This seemed wicked cool especially since Ethan is quite the little Dubya fan..."Dear Jesus, please don't ever let President Bush be on money because only DEAD presidents are on money!"...yeah, really cool until I saw THIS this morning. Oh well!

IT'S A BOY!

Haven't been quite sure how to unveil this little secret in blogdom, but here he is, Baby Boy Jackson #2. He doesn't have a name yet, but we've pretty much ruled out Michael, Samuel L, Tito, Stonewall, and Bo. His estimated date of arrival is April 2, 2007 which makes me 18 weeks 3 days on my way...and counting! I am delighted to report that I am feeling GREAT and more importantly, he looks to be developing normally and on schedule according to the ultrasound!

My ultrasound was Monday and the whole family was able to attend. All parties were delighted with the verdict, even Kathryn who had insisted until that point that it was going to be one boy AND one girl.

A few weeks ago I overheard Andrew telling someone we were all hoping for a boy because Dad said there was too much estrogen in the house already. =)

In other news, we have a deal on our house and are set to close on November 20...finally. It has been a long year of limbo since our last deal fell through in November 2005. Jeff is on a hunting trip this weekend and I am going out of town next weekend which leaves us limited time to pack up and get the heck out of here, and oh, did I mention we don't know where we're moving yet?! Yet here I sit...blogging...watching Air Bud Seventh Inning Fetch with Kathryn for at least the 47th time...THIS WEEK!

But, it is okay...IT'S A BOY!

"1000 of X-MASS Items"

Where do I begin? This place of business is one of the longest surviving enterprises in the downtown district of my hometown. And you can see why. In addition to the extensive inventory of ever-so-very-useful, and also very common and very USED, household treasures he stocks, the shopkeeper has also mastered the art of advertising and public relations as you can see by his window display. If "knifs", "air gun", or "soward" are on the wishlist of your loved one this year, then look no further than "HallMart" for all your "X-MASS" needs.

Happy Halloween!

Obi Wan Kanobi and Bride were freshly stitched this year.
Dorothy was my first attempt at a dress 3 years ago,
altered to fit the "smaller hauler", as Papa calls her.

Thanks to Grant for the use of his lightsaber!

"Mom, you really look so much like a real cat!" ~Julia, dead serious

This Dorothy KNOWS she isn't in Kansas anymore...BURRRRR!
(I'll have to include a picture of the store window in the background
in another post...it's a good'ne!)

Kathryn, Julia, Mom, Andrew