Thursday, September 25
We survived George's surgery! I dare any mother to take her child to a hospital for any sort of surgery, and not be a mess when your kid walks through the OR doors. There was an entire room full of mothers who were trying desperately to pretend they weren't weeping. It was the worst hour and a half ever.
George didn't come out of it well, waking up and going right into one of his lyringospasams. It really freaked his PACU nurse out, and I was summoned from the waiting room. "Doctor said you are a nurse. WHAT IS THIS??!!! Has he done it before? His o2 sats are in the 50's! I might have to call a code in a minute here." is what I was greeted with.
I had to explain this was the reason behind the surgery, and we were able to bring George out of it again.
We began the morning with George standing on his hospital bed wearing his hospital gown, belting out the opening song to Lion King on top of his lungs, as he watched the sun come up, but we ended the day with a completely comatose kid. He slept for 20 hours. When he did rouse, he was completely lifeless and blank. It was terrifying, to see this kid of all kids, without his spark.
He more than made up for it the next day. He was up at 5:20 am, and on his bike by 9:30 am. A week later, and, as I walked out the door to leave for work this morning, he was chasing Kaila out the front door with a stick, and was in the process of locking her out as I backed out of the driveway. I would say he's back to his usual want to hug him/want to beat him self again.
We are now into the swing of the new school year. Week one: the kids had their shoes, socks, clothes, lunches, homework and backpacks ready to go the night before school. Dinner was either in the crock pot, or plans were made so that it would be ready no later than 5:30 every evening.We are in the middle of week 3, and the kids have their lunches semi made up, tell me they have their shoes, socks, clothes, backpacks and homework ready to go the night before school, and then scramble like crazy when they get up to get it all ready for school. Dinner has become whatever my imagination cooks up, and Joe will probably starve to death.
My house is a complete mess, with the main focus being on the semi folded ever growing pile of laundry on and around the dining room table, under which is buried mail that I have yet to dig out, missing homework, school picture forms, toys, papers, missing library books and movies, and probably the Ark of the Covenant. It's pretty bad.
Along with the start of the new school year, are the ever awesome Fund Raisers. For anyone reading this that is NOT from Franklinville, you need to understand that we are a tiny little town essentially in the middle of nowhere. The kid to consumer base for sales ratio is not exactly huge. So far this year, within the last three weeks, my kids have come home with: Flower sales, Nuts and Candy sales, Candy bar sales, school pictures, and swim sign ups. I may have to move, as the pretty soon the neighbors will begin avoiding my kids, and take out a loan to finance the the fund raisers and other assorted fees associated with school. 3 weeks. We haven't even begun to unleash the hustling abilities demanded of our children yet. I apologize in advance, dear neighbors. As it is, we have to take the pickup truck to the school tonight to pick up and then deliver, 21 pots of Chrysanthemums. Thank you to those that purchased these mums. They are going toward sending my kid to Washington DC again.
Monday, September 30
I seriously have very little time lately. Sorry for the break in Blog here!
At least one of my kids appreciates education. Joe has a life career mapped out that includes going to college for Geology, so that he may successfully own and run a diamond mine, to fund his large very private Alaskan property and his large pack of huskies. Thus far, his grades and extremely intelligent one liners and casual every day remarks indicate this is a very real possibility. Or, he will be a successful salesman. It could go anywhere at this point.
George on the other hand, wants nothing to do with school. He hates it. Every part of it. Since his surgery, he cries every night before bed that he has to go to school, wakes up every morning crying that he has to go to school, refuses to get into poor Mrs. Brown's car (The wonderful friend who drives my kids to school every morning, God bless her.) and then clings to whichever sister marches him into school, refusing to let go until he is physically pried off, howling the entire time, by whichever adult happens to have the morning honors.
Kaila does well, and is immersed in Middle School drama and adventures. By week 2 of school, there was already a complaint made to the school regarding another girl harassing her. I suspect it's going to be a long year.
Lexi is Lexi. I don't think she is taken too seriously at school. She wears bright, fun, happy colors, lots of glitter, and lives in a dream world I desperately wish I could spend just one day visiting. She has this fun cheery crazy personality like no other, and is seriously one of the smartest kids I know. I think her grades tend to surprise her teachers, because she puts almost no visible effort into school or homework, and is bored to death by most of it. She has said since she was 5, that she will be very rich and have a butler someday. I think it could be a possibility. She recently started on the school swim team, as she is at her absolute happiest when in the water. I think she'll have a good year this year!
The Earth Mother has been busy. I had the BRILLIANT idea that we should take the kids apple picking Saturday morning. I justified this with the whole "Family Bonding, Memories, Time with the kids, Fun Adventures", mind set, but mostly I didn't feel like doing any housework.
Off we went, on an hour's drive to pick apples. We decided on "only " 2 bushels, and then started out to the apple orchard, buckets in hand. There were lots of varieties, and we broke up to get all different kinds. The apple trees were full and plentiful, and, the entire thing took 10 minutes. 10 minutes. Seriously. It took longer to walk from the truck to the apple building. So. We decided to pick grapes, too. Grapes are good. My kids like grapes. This will be so nice!
It took about 5 minutes to fill an extremely large basket full of grapes. Too many grapes, really, because they were all sour concord grapes. My kids do not like sour grapes. What the heck was I going to do with a million sour grapes? And, after all this preparation and driving, we were finished in less than half an hour.
Once back home, I began peeling apples. I decided to make apple sauce to start with. That should use up lots of these apples. We had 4 bags and half a laundry basket full of them. Suddenly 2 bushels seemed like an endless amount of apples.
After peeling, cutting and coring the endless amount of apples, I filled 2 pots with them and cinnamon. It had just taken most of the afternoon, and I still needed to cook them down into sauce and then can them. 12 Quarts of apple sauce, and most of the afternoon/evening later, I realized I had hardly made a dent in the apples. WTH?
The next morning, we hauled the kids to church, because we need to be at least semi responsible adults, and because we have a class of two 12 year old girls that we have to teach religious ed to. And, once a month, we have to teach essentially Catholic Sex Ed. In all honesty, I would tell my own kids in a heartbeat, that they came from the stork if I could get away with it. Neither I nor the two 12 year old girls are enthusiastic about Sex Ed day. And this Sunday, only one girl showed up. It was me, her, and Bearded Man, who didn't want to listen to this anymore than I wanted to teach it.
We hastily read through the chapter, and she happened to look up at an open book on the table, that a past Religious Ed student had written her name in. "Oh! I know her! She's 15 and pregnant!"
I closed my book. I looked at her. I said: "Listen to me. I can sum up this entire book in a few sentences. DON'T have sex till you're married. Seriously. You are not going to find your soul mate any time in the next 6 years. Wait till you're older. Pregnancy. STD's. More responsibility that you can deal with. You don't need to do this. The church says not to do this. You have a whole world in front of you. Don't do it. And all those things the church says you shouldn't do? If you run across someone who DOES do those things, it is your obligation as a decent human being to treat them with kindness and respect. The Good Lord is going to judge everyone eventually. It's His job, not yours. You WILL be judged on how you treated your fellow human beings. Lesson Completed. Let's color stuff." Lesson One done. It's a long way till May. I should probably be fired.
After church, the canning began again. I decided to start with apple preserves. Hours of labor later, and it didn't look like I had used any apples. I swear the little suckers were multiplying in front of me. They were everywhere. I needed a break, so, I started on the grapes, and decided to make grape jam.
Have you ever made grape jam? My little sister wandered through the front door about halfway through the process. To make grape jam, you have to separate the pulp from the skin. It looks EXACTLY like a booger, slime and all, as it drips out of the skin. In looking into the bowl full of pulp, it looked exactly like the fish eggs in Finding Nemo, right before the bad fish ate them all.
My sister looked at me and said "Ri. Why are you doing this. this is ridiculous. Look at this house. This mess. Your kitchen. Look at this! Are you CRAZY? LOOK at all these apples! And grapes!!! TWENTY FOUR CUPS OF SUGAR???? ARE YOU CRAZY??? THIS IS HEALTHY HOW??????"
"There's no preservatives, Brianna! It's nourishing and fresh and has no chemicals and is GOOD for my FAMILY!!!! If there is an emergency, we will survive on peach and apple and grape jelly, Brianna!!! What will YOU be eating, huh?"
"Your kids HATE it ALL, Moriah! They are all going to starve to death anyway!"
"You want some when I'm done?"
"Yeah! The stuffs awesome. Can I have some of your apple pie filling too, if you make it?"
"Yeah."
A whole weekend of canning later, and, I still have two bushels of apples, and half those grapes still. Joe approves of the grape jam though, so there's that.
Bearded Man tells me frequently that his mother canned every summer and fall. She canned everything but her kids, evidently. His Mother was also a stay at home mom. Bearded Man was thoughtful enough to call her and get some of her canning recipes for me, too. She's in the hospital now, so, he can't call her for more recipes right now, so it's just me and the Bell Blue Book of Canning. So far so good!
Anyhow, that's the craziness that is our household right now. Hopefully I can update this a little sooner next time!
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Friday, September 5, 2014
Growing (Kids!) Pains
What a week.
I discovered this week that, while I am of the firm and sound opinion that surgery is fairly safe these days, and have some experience as a surgical floor nurse, it is absolutely not okay for my own kids.
Not even the routine stuff.
At all.
Tuesday, The George and I made our way to the Pediatric ENT doctor, affiliated with Children's Hospital in Buffalo. I knew what was coming. I knew that George's adenoids were likely coming out.
The doctor came into the room, requested that George remove himself from the Doctor's stool ("I had to try it out, because I am going to be a doctor." George informed the Doctor. ) and announced that, after looking at George's xrays, that his adenoids were grossly enlarged, the cause of his breathing issues, causing lyringospasms, and needed to come out asap.
I nodded, and agreed, and set up an appointment to have them out on September 17th, and managed to let all the people I have to let know when I need time off, that, I was going to need more time off. Again. (Thank goodness they all like George. I am known as "George's Mom" in Buffalo anymore.)
After the appointment, George announced he was starving and thirsty and that the only thing that would make him better was Timbits from Tim Horton's, and an orange juice. I figured he earned it, so, we went in search. At the drive - thru, his window came down, and the following took place:
George: "Hello? Hi! Can you hear me?"
Drive Thru Voice: "Umm, hello?"
Me: "GEORGE! Shush! Let me order, okay?"
George: "My name's George!"
Drive Thru Voice: "Ummm. Hi, George?"
George: "I love you!"
Drive Thru Voice: "AWWWWWW!!!!!!!! Extra Timbits for George!!"
On the way home, I decided to go visit my Dad. He hasn't been too well, and there really isn't too much more that can be done for him. He is in and out of the hospital a lot these days.
My Dad's skin color is gray, he has circles under his eyes, and he really is unable to walk much, due to cardiac problems. He looked at me and said
"Ri. I'm on my way out. My heart just can't take much more, and there isn't much they can do for me now. Don't know when it will happen, but, I'm ready to go. This is no quality of life."
What do you say to that?
This week also brought the first day of school. Including the First Day for my Last Kid. Where did all the time go?
George announced that he probably shouldn't go. His brother and sisters had told him he wouldn't be allowed to go to the gym. "I'm not a baby, and I'm not stupid! Why are they treating me like I am? I should be allowed to go to the gym. This is NOT going to be any fun."
The morning of the first day dawned, and George really wanted no part of this. "I shouldn't go. The people are going to want me to listen to them, and I don't like to listen to people."
I assured him it would be fine. His first day didn't start until 10 am, but we drove the rest of the kids to school and walked them in. I was FINE. FINE! All morning, we were fine. I marched them into school like I always do, and we were walking down a hallway, and the kids were calling to long lost friends, and Lexi was completely fuming over the news that Joe's room was directly across from her classroom, and this was NOT acceptable, and suddenly I was getting all weepy. Out of nowhere. Didn't see that coming at all.
George and I had a few errands to run before Pre-K started, and, on the way to the school, the horrible thought occurred to me that: This was it. The very last time I would have George or any kid alone to myself, while the big kids were at school. This was the last ride I would take with my baby and that my baby was still all mine. Once I hit the school, I would have a Big Kid, and have to share him, and there would no longer be any kids at home during the day, or little ones running around the house. Bring on the waterworks. Not gonna lie. I drove around the biggest block I could find, to extend that ride a little. It took the first hour of Pre-K for me to stop getting all teary. He didn't know, of course. On the way in, his hand found mine, and I heard "Mama? Will you carry me in?"
"No buddy. You can do it, and you are going to be just fine. You can hold my hand though."
Because, sometimes, you just have to let them stand on their own two feet.
This morning, after hauling him out of bed against his will, and spending 15 minutes snuggling with him to wake him up, it was "Mama? I don't think I should go to Pre-K. I am not old enough. It is for 5 year olds, and I'm only 4. I will go next year. Make Daddy go to work at night again and stay home with me. Or you can stay home, and work at night, and snuggle me. That will be good. Pleeeeaaaassseee Mama?" Lord.
I am completely aware that he will be fine. He will survive just like the rest of the kids did. I am also aware that I will, as well. But, I feel like this was a pretty big life change, with the realization that there really are no little ones at home anymore. I think too, that worrying about George's breathing problems and surgery and my Dad really added to the whole Moriah Mess.
I'm ready to be done with this week. I have been too busy and weighed down with all the heavy stuff to go to Zumba, go walking, or even care what I ate.
Life goes on, however! And, in all honesty, Religious Ed starts this Sunday, (you know, in 2 days?) and, I am not nearly as prepared as I wanted to be. It was decided that the 8th graders should have Religious Education at one of our Sister Churches, so, my class now consists of 2 kids. Neither belonging to me. Now that my kid is no longer in my class, this has created something of a logistical nightmare. I now have 2 children in Religious Ed, and 2 not in Religious Ed, that will need to be delt with in some manner for an hour and a half for 24 Sundays, almost 20 miles from home. This does NOT include getting home in order to turn around two hours later to drive BACK to our church to get Kaila off to the other church, and then come home again, to to pick her up again in a few more hours. Religious Education has just effectively caused at least 100 miles of driving every Sunday. The first of my children to announce they have decided to become another religion, or, atheist, will probably be beaten soundly.
That is life in our household this week. I did meet a new neighbor! She came over to introduce herself, after we discovered that her daughter is Kaila's age, and in the same classes as her, and they just moved down the street from us! (The excitement here is HUGE. Kaila really has very few friends, and pickings are pretty slim in our town. She was recently heartbroken when her BFF from out of state would have nothing to do with her on her summer trip to NY. When they DID get together, my poor daughter was regaled with stories of another local girl who hates Kaila, and is the daughter of this child's Uncle's girlfriend. Every rotten thing this other kid had said was repeated for the entire day, and in great, excruciating detail, before Kaila was informed by her ex bff that they all felt it was better to keep the peace with a possible new cousin, rather than an old friend, thus, she probably wasn't going to be spoken to much anymore, if ever again, soooo, sorry?) The relief that Kaila has found a new friend was huge. My poor kid really needed someone. The new friend's mother wandered around the house, and announced that she used to be a Home Stager, and that she really liked how I had it decorated. (Score one for a for-once clean house!!!!!) She hesitated and finally said "Do you mind a few pointers about your kitchen...?" And I decided I probably liked her.
And that is what's going on in the household this week. There was also an ER trip for Bearded Man, who will live, but, still, this was definatly the week for craziness. Back to working out tomorrow. I don't have it in me to be miserable for very long. Have a great weekend!
I discovered this week that, while I am of the firm and sound opinion that surgery is fairly safe these days, and have some experience as a surgical floor nurse, it is absolutely not okay for my own kids.
Not even the routine stuff.
At all.
Tuesday, The George and I made our way to the Pediatric ENT doctor, affiliated with Children's Hospital in Buffalo. I knew what was coming. I knew that George's adenoids were likely coming out.
The doctor came into the room, requested that George remove himself from the Doctor's stool ("I had to try it out, because I am going to be a doctor." George informed the Doctor. ) and announced that, after looking at George's xrays, that his adenoids were grossly enlarged, the cause of his breathing issues, causing lyringospasms, and needed to come out asap.
I nodded, and agreed, and set up an appointment to have them out on September 17th, and managed to let all the people I have to let know when I need time off, that, I was going to need more time off. Again. (Thank goodness they all like George. I am known as "George's Mom" in Buffalo anymore.)
After the appointment, George announced he was starving and thirsty and that the only thing that would make him better was Timbits from Tim Horton's, and an orange juice. I figured he earned it, so, we went in search. At the drive - thru, his window came down, and the following took place:
George: "Hello? Hi! Can you hear me?"
Drive Thru Voice: "Umm, hello?"
Me: "GEORGE! Shush! Let me order, okay?"
George: "My name's George!"
Drive Thru Voice: "Ummm. Hi, George?"
George: "I love you!"
Drive Thru Voice: "AWWWWWW!!!!!!!! Extra Timbits for George!!"
On the way home, I decided to go visit my Dad. He hasn't been too well, and there really isn't too much more that can be done for him. He is in and out of the hospital a lot these days.
My Dad's skin color is gray, he has circles under his eyes, and he really is unable to walk much, due to cardiac problems. He looked at me and said
"Ri. I'm on my way out. My heart just can't take much more, and there isn't much they can do for me now. Don't know when it will happen, but, I'm ready to go. This is no quality of life."
What do you say to that?
This week also brought the first day of school. Including the First Day for my Last Kid. Where did all the time go?
George announced that he probably shouldn't go. His brother and sisters had told him he wouldn't be allowed to go to the gym. "I'm not a baby, and I'm not stupid! Why are they treating me like I am? I should be allowed to go to the gym. This is NOT going to be any fun."
The morning of the first day dawned, and George really wanted no part of this. "I shouldn't go. The people are going to want me to listen to them, and I don't like to listen to people."
I assured him it would be fine. His first day didn't start until 10 am, but we drove the rest of the kids to school and walked them in. I was FINE. FINE! All morning, we were fine. I marched them into school like I always do, and we were walking down a hallway, and the kids were calling to long lost friends, and Lexi was completely fuming over the news that Joe's room was directly across from her classroom, and this was NOT acceptable, and suddenly I was getting all weepy. Out of nowhere. Didn't see that coming at all.
George and I had a few errands to run before Pre-K started, and, on the way to the school, the horrible thought occurred to me that: This was it. The very last time I would have George or any kid alone to myself, while the big kids were at school. This was the last ride I would take with my baby and that my baby was still all mine. Once I hit the school, I would have a Big Kid, and have to share him, and there would no longer be any kids at home during the day, or little ones running around the house. Bring on the waterworks. Not gonna lie. I drove around the biggest block I could find, to extend that ride a little. It took the first hour of Pre-K for me to stop getting all teary. He didn't know, of course. On the way in, his hand found mine, and I heard "Mama? Will you carry me in?"
"No buddy. You can do it, and you are going to be just fine. You can hold my hand though."
Because, sometimes, you just have to let them stand on their own two feet.
This morning, after hauling him out of bed against his will, and spending 15 minutes snuggling with him to wake him up, it was "Mama? I don't think I should go to Pre-K. I am not old enough. It is for 5 year olds, and I'm only 4. I will go next year. Make Daddy go to work at night again and stay home with me. Or you can stay home, and work at night, and snuggle me. That will be good. Pleeeeaaaassseee Mama?" Lord.
I am completely aware that he will be fine. He will survive just like the rest of the kids did. I am also aware that I will, as well. But, I feel like this was a pretty big life change, with the realization that there really are no little ones at home anymore. I think too, that worrying about George's breathing problems and surgery and my Dad really added to the whole Moriah Mess.
I'm ready to be done with this week. I have been too busy and weighed down with all the heavy stuff to go to Zumba, go walking, or even care what I ate.
Life goes on, however! And, in all honesty, Religious Ed starts this Sunday, (you know, in 2 days?) and, I am not nearly as prepared as I wanted to be. It was decided that the 8th graders should have Religious Education at one of our Sister Churches, so, my class now consists of 2 kids. Neither belonging to me. Now that my kid is no longer in my class, this has created something of a logistical nightmare. I now have 2 children in Religious Ed, and 2 not in Religious Ed, that will need to be delt with in some manner for an hour and a half for 24 Sundays, almost 20 miles from home. This does NOT include getting home in order to turn around two hours later to drive BACK to our church to get Kaila off to the other church, and then come home again, to to pick her up again in a few more hours. Religious Education has just effectively caused at least 100 miles of driving every Sunday. The first of my children to announce they have decided to become another religion, or, atheist, will probably be beaten soundly.
That is life in our household this week. I did meet a new neighbor! She came over to introduce herself, after we discovered that her daughter is Kaila's age, and in the same classes as her, and they just moved down the street from us! (The excitement here is HUGE. Kaila really has very few friends, and pickings are pretty slim in our town. She was recently heartbroken when her BFF from out of state would have nothing to do with her on her summer trip to NY. When they DID get together, my poor daughter was regaled with stories of another local girl who hates Kaila, and is the daughter of this child's Uncle's girlfriend. Every rotten thing this other kid had said was repeated for the entire day, and in great, excruciating detail, before Kaila was informed by her ex bff that they all felt it was better to keep the peace with a possible new cousin, rather than an old friend, thus, she probably wasn't going to be spoken to much anymore, if ever again, soooo, sorry?) The relief that Kaila has found a new friend was huge. My poor kid really needed someone. The new friend's mother wandered around the house, and announced that she used to be a Home Stager, and that she really liked how I had it decorated. (Score one for a for-once clean house!!!!!) She hesitated and finally said "Do you mind a few pointers about your kitchen...?" And I decided I probably liked her.
And that is what's going on in the household this week. There was also an ER trip for Bearded Man, who will live, but, still, this was definatly the week for craziness. Back to working out tomorrow. I don't have it in me to be miserable for very long. Have a great weekend!
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