George Goes to the ER

     It was a bad weekend. I noted two things this weekend:

     1) Both years Joe has been getting ready to leave or return from Scout Camp, George has ended up in the Emergency Dept. I don't think Joe should go anymore.

     2) One good thing I can say about winter is; It's okay if you leave chicken in your vehicle, and you don't have to worry when you let the dogs out at night.

   All that being said, I type this at work while noting that my scrubs smell like skunk. And I want to sit right down and have a good cry at the vast volumes of laundry this could potentially mean.

     Alright. Begin at the beginning. Saturday was crazy. We had approximately 4 million things that needed to be done this weekend. And it was drizzly and chilly and the kids were just not cooperating. We had several errands to run, and ended up somehow looking at backpacks for school. Lexi and George selected nice normal book bags. Joe regaled us with a lengthy argument as to why he needed the most expensive bag available.

- It was black. Which is sensible.
- It did not have a picture of a character that would be replaced by the next "cool" character.
- It would wear well.
- It would not need to be replaced halfway through the school year.
- It had plenty of space for his things and his school iPad.
- It would save money in the end, not needed to be replaced.
- It would not break thus his things wouldn't be ruined, and it would not cause him troubles walking home.

And on and on and on and on and on some more. However, we were there to get him set up with everything he needed for his Scout camping trip, and he will just have to wait till next time.

     The entire day was just crazy. We took the kids to Saturday evening mass, with the thought that maybe for once we could have a somewhat leisurely morning Sunday. If we could get Joe all packed, and everything set, Sunday would be a little slower paced.
     My brother was having a 30th birthday party for his girlfriend. Looking at how the day had been, and all the things that needed to be done, the weather and the temperature, I let him know we were going to bow out of this party.
     I received a text telling me that he had already bought food, and that he really wanted us there, so, it was decided that the kids and I would go after church, and Bearded Man announced he would stay home and finish scraping the house.

     During church, George was in top form. One of his new favorite songs is a country song with the line "Tonight it's bottoms up"
     George coined "Tonight it's wienies up". And sang it loudly. Kaila confessed that she loves to watch my face when George talks.

     We dropped Bearded Man off at home, and headed to my brother's house. We were there in the drizzling rain, and the kids were all playing down by the creek. Evidently the game was to try and throw stones and rocks across the creek to the other side. Not sure how it happened - if it was a mis-aim, or if George walked into the line of fire, but, my niece threw a large rock, and it hit George on top of his head.

     My first thought when I saw him climb up the embankment toward me, with blood pouring down his face profusely, completely covering it, was that this was what a zombie Apocalypse will probably look like. He totally could have doubled in a horror movie. Myself and another guest, whom I think may have been an EMT scooped him up and hauled him into the house to clean him up and stop the bleeding. Head wounds bleed like crazy and often look worse than they are.
     When I heard about the size of the rock, however, I thought we should probably get him to the ER, just to be sure.

     The kids were packed back into me truck, and we headed home to drop the rest of them off on the way to the hospital.
     Kaila announced very dramatically that she was coming with us, as this was her little brother, and she needed to be there for him, so, she came too. And  confessed that she had almost fainted when she saw the bloody face. She doesn't deal well with blood.

     Once at the hospital, I realized George and I were both covered in blood. And George was questioned by every single staff member that came near us, regarding child abuse.

     He did not behave like he had just had head trauma. We were there about 3 hours, during which he:

Treated the bed like a race car as he was wheeled to the CT scan room. Begging to go faster, especially around the corners.

Figured out how to work the bed rails, both up and down

Figured out how to work all the peddles on the bed

Figured out how to make the back go up and down

Rearranged the chairs in the room repeatedly

Figured out all the buttons on the TV

Sang along with "Let it Go" on top of his lungs, as Disney was having a Singalong Saturday, God Bless Them

Locked himself in the bathroom: "Mom! I locked the door! You can't get in!!!!! ...... Still going potty, Mama! The door is still locked!!!!..... EWWWWWWW Somebody PEED IN A CUP!!!! And LEFT it here!!!!!...... the door is still locked, Mama!!!! I might stay in here forever!...... I need to wash my hands...... I need to do a VERY GOOD JOB, Mama!!!...... Hahahaha!!! The door is still locked!!! Nobody can get me now!!!!...... Now I need to dry my hands, Mama!!!!!" And, so it went. I really wasn't sure he would come out on his own. But, the entire area had a play by play of the entire experience.

He announced he was getting brain surgery

He told the nurses he was cooler than Batman AND Spider Man both.

He danced

He picked his nose, but announced it was okay, because he didn't plan to eat any boogers this time.

Announced he will probably work there someday.

It was exhausting.

2 staples in the head later, we were headed home. I thought maybe he would be a little more low key than usual the next morning. He was not, however. He woke up, padded into my room and snuggled with me for about 3 minutes, before the bouncing began.

"George! For the love of God, child, you just had head trauma! Knock it off before you end up back in the ER!"

"I'm still me, Mama." he stated matter of factly. "When can I go show Carter my head?" (His Bff...)

     A few hours after we finally got to bed Saturday night, Bearded Man let Turbo out. Who was promptly sprayed by a skunk. And who came running back into the house in a panic, and managed to bounce all over all the furniture, before he was brought upstairs, and the baby gate was put in the door as it is every night. I was awakened by Turbo trying to wake me up, and the entire room so unbearable I could hardly breathe. Bearded Man was instructed with no small amount of angry hysteria to get the dog OUT of the bedroom, and I reached for my phone to look up home skunk smell remedies for dogs. Which required wrestling him into the bathtub and scrubbing him at length until almost 4 am, as, Dawn Dish soap does not rinse well out of thick husky coats.

     Now, even after a full day of cleaning, trying every remedy I could find online, scrubbing, spraying, lighting candles, opening all doors and windows: my house still smells. Particularly the living room. And, sitting at work, I realize my scrubs do, too.

     And, with all the excitement, Joe never did get packed for camp, so, it was a frenzied rush, getting his things together, and hurriedly tossing him out the door. The poor kid. It wasn't the dramatic loving mother send off that I think he may have been expecting. I rock as a mom.

     Bearded Man was a little too cheerful, about leaving to take Joe to Scout Camp, considering the state of the house, and the monster with the head wound.... One look at my face as he danced happily out the door, and, he had flowers when he wandered back through it. 8.5 hours later.....

     Joe was successfully settled at Scout Camp. They call water "Bug Juice" there, claiming that they put dead bug juice in it. Joe agreed that the protein is probably good for everyone.

     He pointed out that the pool was too cold, and will probably give a lecture about hypothermia.

     Before leaving, the girls were doing one of those online quizzes that tell you what you will be in life. "Pick an insect. Spider, ant, beetle-" "SPIDERS AREN'T INSECTS!!!!!!!! And this dumb quiz can tell you if you will be an "INTELLECTUAL GENIUS???!!!!!" So, I think the reprieve might be a good thing for Joe and his siblings. George torments the daylights out of him, just because of the reaction he is bound to get.

     That's it in the household. The house is still not painted, but, I am hoping it will be before summer is out. It is on the premises, so, there is that.....

    




    

Needing to Explain Alcohol Soaked Documents to the DMV

     I need a new blender. This past weekend, my friend, Wendy informed me via text, that she was sitting in her driveway drinking wine, and the next thing I knew, I was whipping up a pitcher of strawberry daiquiris and headed her way. During the whipping up of the beverage, however, it was discovered that the bottom of my blender pitcher was broken, and it was leaking everywhere. Including my vehicle registration renewal form that I need to turn in with payment. That should be a fun conversation/explanation, when I turn an alcohol soaked registration in to the DMV.

     Since I was not stopped for wandering the neighborhood with an entire pitcher full of alcohol, as I walked down the street and around the corner to Wendy's house, we proceeded to drink it, and have a lovely time. During which I mused that I am pretty sure Joe now belongs to a gang. I have no idea who most of the boys are. I do know, that I came home from work one day last week, and there was an entire pack of little boys circling the road in front of my house, and my son was in the  midst of them. Evidently they spent a few days riding their bikes all over town. When I heard (with no small amount of horror) that they had all ridden down Cemetery Hill, the mom in me had to step in and set up some boundaries. Most of them are off to the local Christian Camp this week, so, Joe will be gang-less for the next 2 weeks, as he is leaving for Scout Camp the day after his gang comes back.
   
     Bearded Man continues to scrape the house. Evidently it needed to be re-scraped after the rough winter we had. Hopefully it will be all painted for the most part by the end of the week. He started a new job today, so, he will have to fit it in after work. It is in his best interest to finish it as soon as possible, because I am starting to have second thoughts about the trim color again. He has no idea the misery he is in store for, when I start planning the new front porch, as that needs to be replaced within the next year or so. In all honesty, I am not sure which of us makes the other crazier. We will have lots of time to figure it out, now that he will be home every night.

     Zumba continues. And, I am pretty sure I am absolutely awful at it. I THINK I am all keeping up and doing wonderful, until the instructor stops and explains things to me. Again. Not the other lady, who started the same day I did: just me. But that's okay. Because, I am DOING it, and there is the desperate  hope (I'm not sure who's hope is more desperate: mine or the poor instructor's, really.) that I will eventually pick it up. And everyone is seriously so nice. If nothing else, it's at least an  hour that I don't have my phone with me, and not one person is bugging me. It's an entire hour during which I am positive throughout that I will either vomit, die, or otherwise disgrace myself. But it's MY hour! That hour of high energy aloneness is an amazing outlet for stress, too. Also, the Continues to be Creepy Fitbit seems to approve of the Zumba and all the walking of the hills I have been doing. According to it, during the 11 days since I have had it, I have walked 250 miles, and climbed over 1000 stories.That seems to indicate I walk an average of 22 miles a day. Which I do not. The email I recieved this morning told me I have, however, I think maybe it meant steps?... not too shabby!

     Last night, I dug out the laptop computer. Remember when laptops were cool? My kids have the iPad that I bought last summer, and rarely get the chance to touch. Drag out a laptop, and George behaved as if I had dug up dinosaur bones in the front yard. Seeing the long cord used for charging, and the size of it compared to an iPad, he was not impressed. I attempted to do a Blog at home, but, was unable to. The vague thought being that I could upload some pictures it. I may get to it in the near future. With or without George's assistance. Mostly, the it  was aborted because George was covered in mud, having taken advantage of every mud puddle in the neighborhood after a day of rain. I am hoping, in the long run, to do a Before and After blog of the house. After going on and on and on and on about it for the last year, I suppose I could at least post a few pictures.

     Honestly, that's about it. The weekends continue to be packed full of one thing or another. I am contemplating dragging the kids to a local "U-pick" farm this coming weekend and picking berries and peas. I missed strawberry season completely, but am determined to fill the freezer with as many things as we can get in this summer. Need to take advantage of the child labor while I have it!

    
    

Updates and Adjustments

     Lobster Day has come and gone. It was pretty traumatic for the lobsters and myself. Probably more so for the lobsters. I confessed doubt at my ability to kill my dinner to my friend Pam, whom we bought the lobsters from. She looked at me like I was crazy and told me I was not killing them, the method of cooking was killing them.
     I couldn't bring myself to throw them into the pot of boiling water. Partly because that would make me responsible for the death of the lobsters, but mostly because they are slimy creepy looking alien like things with lots of spider legs and long anteni and, just, no.
     After they were cheerfully chucked in by either Sue, Bearded Man or my brother, everyone would gather around the pot and watch. And the lobsters watched us right back, with dead accusing eyes. And it was horrible.
     After several people had to go through the grossness of cleaning the innards off their meat, they couldn't eat them. So, the guys at our shindig ended up with lots of lobster. I had exactly two bites, handed mine to Bearded Man, and poured myself a bracing Captain Morgan.
     My friend Sue has decided we should do a suckling pig next year. I don't know if I can deal with cooking another animal that is looking at me.

     Update on the house paint situation: It is still not in. We ordered it over a month ago at the Home Depot. They forgot to order it until the date it was supposed to be delivered when they received a call inquiring if it was in yet. Then the Behr company forgot to send it. Then the Behr company sent it on another truck, but, whomever took it off the truck put it someplace special and promptly forgot where. We are hoping it will be in tomorrow. It has given me an entire month to come to terms with the color we chose for better or for worse. We have several different sample colors painted on the side of the house. The last opinion we received was from a neighbor who said, "You know, I kind of like THAT one better...." as she pointed to a different color. Too late. After all the Home Depot drama, I am sure they will throw the paint at us if we change our minds at this point.

     Update on my daughter's bedroom cleaning situation: It is still not cleaned. Mostly because, the weekend they were supposed to start cleaning their bedroom, was also the weekend that all the VA telehealth nurses that are directed from the Buffalo VA were invited to our boss' cottage in the Finger Lakes. This was an all day affair, and, the kids essentially jumped out of my vehicle, ran past the boss and his wife, and jumped into the lake, where they proceeded to spend the entire day. No matter how much sunblock I coated them with, the girls in particular were completely roasted. Being unable to move for the next several days gave them a free pass to get out of cleaning.
     As we gathered kids and accessories to leave my boss' cottage that evening, George informed his sweetheart of a wife that "Next time, I  will help you do the cooking. We will make chicken nuggets and tacos. For dessert, you will have to buy a foot (shaped) pan. I saw a recipe on You Tube that shows you how to make foot candy."

     Speaking of George, he somehow learned recently that the middle finger is not a good one to wave around. I discovered that he had discovered this last Sunday in church. He had a very loud very long conversation with it  held up, making absolutely sure that this was not okay. My head was completely pounding by the time we left church Sunday.
     After which, I dropped mostly everyone off at home and took Lexi and Joe shopping for clothes. It took approximately 12 minutes to select everything Joe needed. Pants, shirts, shorts, socks, jammies. Done.
     According to my Fitbit I walked 2 miles at Walmart, in 2  hours, as we tried to outfit Lexi. Not only is it hard to outfit a girl in this day and age of completely inappropriate clothing, but, Lexi is between so many sizes, so everything had to be tried on first, too.
     It was exhausting. At the checkout, as I tried not to whimper at the total, I excitedly realized that I was just about done with school clothes shopping! Just a few odds and ends, but, for once I was ahead of the game! How great was that?? Then, I came home, collapsed into my recliner, and saw that the Hallmark Channel was playing Christmas movies all day. The whole "Ahead of the game " feeling was nice for the 2  hours it lasted, anyway.

     My Fitbit. It is my new favorite thing ever. And, if I was slightly more neurotic, it would also be the creepiest thing ever.
     I saw several of my coworkers from the Buffalo VA had gotten Fitbits, and the occasional Facebook post regarding them. After some research (meaning, I Googled them during a lunch break) I decided that a Fitbit would be a perfect addition to my whole "Move" craze that I have been on for the last 2 months. And, by chance, I found one at the store inside the Buffalo VA when I was up there getting supplies last week.
     I took it off before bed one night, and, happened to look at the little screen just as it flashed "HUG ME MORIAH". every once in awhile, I will catch  "MISS YOU MORIAH" "I AM READY MORIAH" SCORE MORIAH" It kinda gives me the creeps sometimes. If I think too hard about it, I would be a little nervous that it syncs to my phone and my computer and can monitor my sleep if I wore it to bed. So I don't because, boundaries. It's a little TOO friendly I think.
     Otherwise, it's this amazing little thing that you clip to wherever, and it tracks steps, calories burned, calories eaten etc etc. And, if you're into the creepy factor, your sleep, too. So far, I love it, and challenging myself to beat yesterday's self is kinda fun.
 
     My Move craze is headed toward the end of it's second month. Every morning, Turbo and I go meet my friend Sue, and we walk all over town. It began as a nice little stroll, but we added some decent sized hills to it, to make sure it was worth our getting out of bed in the morning. Mostly, we cannot breathe by the top of the last hill.
     I also have (FINALLY!!!) Begun Zumba! I went to my first official class this past Saturday, after seeing myself on a video my brother took of me trying to eat my poor lobster. Anyhow, being the day after a holiday, the only people to show up were myself and another newbie. I was completely drenched by the end, and all proud of my awesome workout. Till the instructor told us that she had gone easy on us because it was our first official Zumba workout.


      There have been a lot of changes around the household lately. Next week, Bearded Man will be starting a new job. During the day. This will be an adjustment for sure! He has worked second shift since before Kaila was born! My first thought was "OMG! What will we do with Turbo?? My baby is not spending the day in his crate! He cannot have run of the house - he will destroy it. I cannot leave him out all day." Somehow I have become extremely attached to this dog who drags me out of bed every morning for his walk, and who is usually by my side at home, and who greets me almost more enthusiastically than the kids do. If I could take him to work with me, it would be perfect. So, I need to figure out what to do with this creature once the kids go back to school in the fall.
     With the new work schedule, Bearded Man and I need to have a serious discussion regarding ownership of my recliner. Which has become his favorite spot at night. While he watches loud gory man stuff on TV. Evenings after the kids go to bed used to be quiet, no TV, ME in my recliner, and a good book. I am not even kidding when I say I detest the TV. And man stuff on it.

     My Father's health has declined considerably. He's been in and out of the hospital a lot, and the overall outlook isn't wonderful at this time. My Dad has beaten some rough odds before with his health, but, the medical professional in me is not seeing good things when I hear the reports. Hopefully he will be okay for a long time still.
 
     Anyway, hopefully the house will be painted soon, and I won't accidentally use the TV for target practice, and Bearded Man decides to adopt the couch for a favorite spot, and the Fitbit isn't nearly as creepy as I think it is, because I really like it, and I can continue all this exercise, and we don't get asked to leave George home from church, and we all adjust to all the changes at home.

Doomed Lobsters and Child Labor

     Oh boy! It's been awhile, huh? Life has been busy in the household. Honestly, the last 2 months have probably been the busiest we have ever had.

     Of note: I ordered the doomed lobsters today. I continue to have my doubts about my ability to kill my dinner. I also remain convinced that this could be traumatic for the kids and myself, and fuel stories pretty much forever.

     Also, we have ordered the house paint. After at least a year of agonizing, paint samples, paint swatches and mind changing, the paint is ordered for better or for worse.
     It needed to be specially ordered, because it is so dark that the Home Depot does not keep the correct base on hand. As the doubtful paint associate pointed out, "MOST people normally go for lighter colors. We don't see them this dark that often. I am not even sure I know how to order it...." At this point, I wanted that color purely on principal.
     It is with great hopes, that this color will turn out respectable. There is a house near mine that is painted dark gray that I have privately named "Gru's House", (think "Despicable Me") and I hope so much that my house does not look like an Evil Villain's home when we are done. You can always tell an Evil Villain by their home. In retrospect, we have looked like Evil Villains for the past year or so.

     The past few weeks have included Kaila's 13th Birthday, for which she requested permission to swear like a sailor for an entire day. Permission was denied. Friends and family were impressed. No one I know had ever thought to request the ability to spew profanity for an entire day as a kid, before. This not only called into questioning my parenting once again, but, the people I hang out with.

     The busyness also included Joe's 9th Birthday, Joe's First Communion, the end of baseball season, my Brother's wedding, a parade, school concerts and whatever else I forgot to throw in there.
     Watching Joe this Spring, I can honestly say it's the first time I have been able to visibly see one of my kids transition from "Little Kid" to "Big Kid". Joe really hit his stride this year. He went from a kid up to bat who couldn't hit a thing, to a kid who could suddenly smack the balls into the outfield. He began to read. With an appetite that we couldn't satisfy. So, he was hauled off to the library for a library card. Sometimes late at night, I catch him trying to read via nightlight. He continues to be smarter than I can keep up with, constantly firing math questions at me. "Mom? What is one trillion minus one?" Hard to answer without thinking about it for a minute.

     In other news, today is the official last day of school for my kids. The girls have been dreading it, because it means they have until July 5th to clean their room. Which sounds like more than enough time, unless you have seen my daughters' bedroom. Which is completely unbelievably horrendous. A state that it gets to within a few weeks every single time it has been hauled out and cleaned. At the ripe old ages of 10 and 13, however, they are old enough to clean their own room and keep it respectable. Mama is not responsible. So, clean it they will. Which will mean an entire week of misery, as they will indubitably carry on as if they are slave laborers, and we are unreasonable abusive parents. The promise they have been given has been, whatever isn't cleaned by Saturday July 5th, will be going directly to the dump. This promises to be a hellish week for the entire household, truth be told. Of course, with the sacrifice of 11 lobsters thrown in for fun, as well. If I was a good parent, I would think of some positive reinforcement, or some sort of reward for cleaning such a mess. But, it's not like they haven't been threatened, cajoled, begged, pleaded with, ordered, told, bribed, and whatever other adjective seems appropriate here thrown in, to clean their room forever now. Time to get tough. Past time, really, but, life happens, and sometimes we don't have the ability to give them an uninterrupted week to clean.

     Last weekend, I decided we needed a fun day. I told the kids we were going on an adventure. Which is Mom speak for "I don't want to do  housework today. Let's go."
     Kaila and Joe were off on their own adventures, so, it was Lexi and George and I. They elected to go see a movie first. I even sprang for popcorn and soda pop. It cost approximately half a mortgage payment for day old, cold burned popcorn and large glasses of ice with about 4 ounces of coke thrown in for flavoring. Memories and all that.
     After the movie, it was off to the Greenhouse, to buy pots and flowers, to make end of year teacher gifts. There was also the vague idea of throwing some veggie plants in the empty half of my favorite flower bed. But then the perennial section happened. My flower bed, after hours of work, looks amazing...
     After the entire family was back together again, we were off to a local festival. Rides are the most fun, when they are ridden at dusk, or after dark, when all the lights are on. It was the best day ever! I even found out that George loves the Tilt a Whirl as much as I do. The Tilt a Whirl, however, does not love me nearly as much anymore.

     In the very near future, It looks like I will be picking up overtime back up at the Buffalo VA hospital on the weekends. I am so excited, to get back to hospital nursing, even if it's just a few days a week. This could really affect the frequency of these posts, however. We'll see what happens!

 

A Wedding, A Yacht and Lobster Murder. Oh My!

     Last weekend finally dawned the date of my sister's wedding. Not one person involved will dispute me when I say it was a rough few months. My sister just wanted the entire thing over with by the end.
    
     The day before the wedding was rocky, to say the least. However, the day of the wedding dawned, and the weather was perfect, and by the time everyone was finished with hair and makeup, people seemed to have relaxed a little.
     I have never had my makeup done. It took about half an hour, and layer after layer after layer was applied. When the tech handed me a mirror, to check it out, I jumped a little. It looked exactly like the makeup on a corpse laid out in a funeral home. At a distance, it looked great! Up close, when you don't expect it, it was startling.

     I am not a fan of "Selfies" and tend to roll my eyes a little when I see people post selfie after selfie after selfie - seriously - if you are the center of attention with your kid in the lower corner of the pic, and you're all #isn'tmykidadorbs? NO ONE believes this is about your adorbs kid, and EVERYONE knows you expect at least 40 "OH MY GOSH!!! YOU ARE SOOOOO GORGEOUS!!!!" replies.
 
     That being said: I posted a bunch of selfies on Facebook after the hair and makeup portion of the wedding events. Because, seriously, with 47 layers of makeup on, that looked decent (from a distance!) and the next chance of having that kind of make up being when I am laid out and people are commenting on the horrendous outfit Bearded Man is bound to pick out for me, I wanted to immortalize it while I could. I NEVER look that put together. My hair and makeup routine takes less than 3 minutes in the morning. I have to get myself, 4 kids, 2 dogs and a cat up, fed and ready for the day. And spend at least 5 minutes trying to convince Bearded Man to get out of bed. So. I took pictures, so I can see how I COULD look if I ever become wealthy and have the time and money to have 47 layers of makeup applied to my face every day. I wouldn't be able to see to enjoy it anyway. I discovered my glasses sink about 1/4" into it, when I tried to wear them.

     After hair and makeup, it was time for mani pedi's. I have not had either since I treated myself after nursing graduation several years ago.

     I discovered that, no matter how many times you scrub and shower, that, the effects of gardening in bare feet are discernible. I discovered that I felt bad for sitting like a princess in a massage chair, while a slim Oriental Man pampered my feet. I apologized several times, completely uncomfortable, thinking about this poor little guy, crouched in this uncomfortable position, rubbing my feet and legs until he finally made bottle gestures and inquired if I was drinking.

     Once at the wedding site, things progressed well. All of my kids were in the wedding. I didn't think too hard about George's behavior, until we were all under the gazebo, and my boys were completely unreachable by myself, all the way over on the other side, near the Groom's men. And I watched helplessly, as George kicked Joe repeatedly. Until Joe retaliated. They began to kick each other, with a few well aimed slugs in there, too, while George grinned smugly at me. I am sure every single picture captures me scowling at my boys and shaking my head threateningly at them.

     There was an awkward moment after someone handed me a glass of wine. I had been standing with a group of people and we were laughing very hard, and I had taken approximately 4 sips of wine. The preacher pulled me aside and inquired if I was okay and if I had maybe drank a little too  much? I swear, I was not NEARLY as obnoxious as that sounds... I had caught up with a person I knew from my brothers' baseball days, and they were asking what my married name was now..... It went downhill from there. We were ALL laughing. However, I am pretty sure the preacher was expecting bad behavior from me, judging from a few comments made here and there. Water under the bridge and all that.... For goodness' sake, I was the picture of decent propriety.

     Bearded Man has made Craig's List his best friend. Yesterday, I received a picture of a 1964 rusted travel trailer. As in; one of those little trailers you see in the Westerns where a bad guy lives? I swear, I didn't tell him that if he brought it home, he could plan on living in it. But I wanted to.
     Today, I received a text full of pictures of a 17' boat on a trailer, hooked to the back of his truck. He found it on the "Free" page, and had dreams of a yacht. It evidently  requires a lot of work and a  $5,000. engine, and will undoubtedly end up rotting in the (newly cleaned out) driveway for the next year. If he manages to get it home in one piece, it should be parked semi permanently in the driveway by morning. The challenge of keeping the kids off  and out of it should prove interesting.

     Pretty much that's it. Currently, we are hoping to get started with painting the house within the next few weeks. Also, the brother of a friend of mine is going to New Hampshire on July 3rd, to get lobsters, fresh out of the ocean. I have never tried lobster, and thought this might be a good opportunity to do so, so, decided to get in on that, and buy lobsters, and invite  people over, and have lobster and chicken wings for the 4th of July. I have never tasted lobster, and certainly never cooked a lobster, and obviously, am in completely over my head, deciding to take on cooking LOTS of lobsters for lots of people, all at once. The chef next door told Jasin we needed to just boil them till they are red. I was all "WHAT? Aren't they ALREADY red???!!!!" While trying REALLY hard not to think about wrestling lots of live angry lobsters into boiling water without myself or the kids crying. Honestly, this has the potential to cause trauma and the need for therapy. Or at least the best family story for generations to come. (Seriously. If anyone out there has the slightest clue what they're doing, I will buy your lobster, if you will come over and murder every one's dinner and subsequently cook it.....Thanks!)

    

MOVE!

      I recently posted on Facebook that I feel like hyperventilating when I see my calendar, currently. Pretty much, we are booked through June.

     This past weekend, in the midst of the 1001 things we were scheduled for, we had some downtime, while we waited for the kids to finish up their last day of Sunday School for the year. We decided to drive around Cuba Lake, and clock the distance, as I have decided I must ride my bike around it. It's about 5 miles, and, if you ride counter clock around it, there is more downhill than uphill. So, I can feel all good about myself for riding my bike 5 miles around the lake, and you know, not die. The thought being that: If I did not die, then, the kids probably wouldn't either, so, after my trial run around the lake, then I could drag the older kids. My goal being at least one very active family activity every weekend this summer.
     After all this planning and discussing of long bike rides around the lake, and feeling all "Yes! I have a plan! We will be ACTIVE! I ROCK!" we wandered over to the church to pick up the kids from Sunday School and also attend the Sunday School teacher's meeting for the next School year. For which Bearded Man volunteered me to teach. A group of 7th and 8th graders. Because their teacher quit. Because they are mostly awful.
     While leaning against a wall waiting for my kids, along came this other mom. Wearing Lycra that all coordinated, was skin tight, ear buds dangling around her shoulders, perfect hair, glowing complexion, and magazine perfect husband, who also coordinated, and had perfect hair. They breezily announced they had just run 4 miles, and neither of them had a hair out of place. And, since I am probably going to hell anyway (With this knowledge, SHOULD I be teaching Sunday school? I really think there should probably be people who at least have a sporting chance at heaven, teaching it. Not the resignation of probable eternity being punished by no sleep and Frozen played non stop into infinity ....) I wasn't too surprised by my immediate desire to trip them. But, since we were already at the bottom of the stairs, it wasn't worth the energy to do something that rotten - and in church - but, it probably would have gotten me out of teaching Sunday School. I was told to submit a lesson plan for my class while I contemplated it, and wanted to hyperventilate again.

     In concluding that story: I will probably try to ride my bike around Cuba Lake in the near future. And, I did not trip the perfect couple, so, I hope that counts someplace.

     Continuing on my MOVE theme, We are counting down the days to my sister's wedding. Since I am strictly forbidden by my sister to talk about her or the wedding in any form - even to herself - and Nicole From Sears has now taken over every aspect of the wedding, including the decorating I was supposed to do,  I CAN say that, there is still the possibility that I will come down with some dehabilitating illness, or break a bone, or win a weekend once in a lifetime trip to the Bahamas or get kidnapped by pirates or called into duty as a Secret Agent, or Aliens will abduct me, or all roads leading out of Franklinville will crumble, and I will not be able to go. I am not saying I don't WANT to go, because that isn't nice. I AM saying, all of these things COULD happen at any time. Which would be tragic.

     Also, while we are talking about moving, I recently schlepped unenthusiastically to Kaila's Spanish Club Zumbathon. I was tired, and grouchy and had not had 5 seconds to just sit down after work, and did not want to go. However, Kaila and I are super close, and the thought of letting her down got me in the whole guilt department, so, I went. And I told the sitter that I would be gone an hour, tops. And probably be dead, too. I have never done Zumba. Once, when I was at the YMCA working out, I saw the Zumba people doing their thing and thought there was no way I could do it.
     I did it for TWO WHOLE  HOURS!!! And I LOVED it! That stuff is like crack. It's like, people who have never done it are all, "What is WRONG with you people? GET. A. LIFE." (Well, I was, anyway...) then, you go and do it, and it's like "I WANT TO TELL THE WHOOOOOLE WORLD, HOW AWESOME AND AMAZING ZUMBA IS, AND IT'S PRETTY MUCH ALL I WANT TO DO EVERY DAY, AND ALL I WILL TALK ABOUT EVER EVER AGAIN!!!!!!" And so, once baseball season is over, and I hopefully avoid jail time by not taking out the mom that spends every single game and practice glaring at me and whispering to her friends, I am so going to do Zumba. And, maybe, be able to ride my bike around Cuba Lake Clockwise up hills, too. A girl can dream, anyway.

     So, there is this whole summer planned around moving. Moving at crazy paces every weekend for the million things planned, be it Weddings, First Communions, Birthdays, parties, baseball; whatever.
     There are the bike rides we want to take, the Zumba I want to do, and the walking I do with my tea drinking friend Sue at a truly obscene hour every weekday morning. It seems like it will be a busy summer, and,  hopefully I can come up with a lesson plan for a class full of, by Kaila's description, a large group of Kids headed for certain time in Federal Prisons right out of Juvenile detention. I cannot control my 4 year old in church ("George! STOP acting like Spider Man in church!!" "I am NOT pretending to be Spider Man! I am pretending to be JESUS, and he can spin webs and throw them if he WANTS to!!!" *Sigh*) So, I am unsure of my ability to control a group of what sounds like hardened thugs for 90 minutes once a week. The last teacher sent Kaila to the head of Religious Ed with the message that she was LEAVING, and NOT cleaning out her classroom, on Sunday....

     Wish me luck in all the above endeavors!!!

Giving Your Kid Wings

     Last night, my (almost) 13  year old daughter stumbled off a bus, fresh from Washington DC, right around 11:30.

     This trip was a huge opportunity for her, as one of 10 kids selected from her school to go for 4 days.
     We were up at 4:30 am Mother's Day morning, after 2 days of trying to get my chronically unorganized kid packed and organized. During which I had a taste of what parenting a teen will be like - in that I now have the ability to go all Exorcist and turn my head completely around, while hitting all notes of Operatic range, from shrill soprano to deepest bass. All in one sentence.
    
    On the way to the school to catch the bus, she announced she we were sending her into dangerous areas. If she didn't end  up in a fiery bus collision/explosion, then, there would probably be terrorists, shootings and bombs in Washington.
      She did make it both ways without any explosions, on her bus or any other. Nor were there any shooters, terrorists or bombs in Washington.
     She did threaten to call the manager of the hotel, when the balcony doors would not open, nor the windows. And the view was awful. And there were kids running up and down the hallways making all kinds of racket, and this was unacceptable. The manager has no idea how grateful he should be, that they kept her too busy to call...
     She learned that there are few people in Washington DC that speak English, and even fewer that are nice to school kids.

     She also had a great time. They crammed in so much during their short time in DC! I received excited texts and pictures, and animated phone calls, chronicling all her adventures. She learned a lot, saw a lot, did a lot. I was so glad she had the opportunity.

    The kids were told that this was not in replacement of their school work. They knew going into it that, they were expected in school the day after the trip, and that they would have 4 days of tests and homework to catch up on. Oh yes, and the school concert tonight. And the flowers from their flower sale came in and needed to be handed out today for 2 hours after school. They were all aware of this.

     One mom, however, was not happy about it last night, when the bus arrived. Parents started getting out of their vehicles, to go see their kids, as they stumbled off the bus. The teacher was the first one off, and, out of nowhere, an SUV zoomed through the parking lot, and stomped on the brakes in front of the bus, cutting the kids and their parents off from each other. Kids were getting off the bus, as the mom began to scream at the teacher in the MOST vulgar language, for having the kids  back so late, and expecting so much of them today. She was vicious and mean and rude and nasty. And her son was humiliated. She never even acknowledged him, as, head down, he climbed into the passenger side while she ranted.
     Parents stopped, dumbfounded, and one dad said "Is she SERIOUS?" as the teacher, in exhausted frustration bit his tongue and just tried to let it roll over him.
     Eventually, the screaming stopped, and she stomped on the gas peddle and zoomed back out of the parking lot.
     Kids who had been set to run to their parents stood in confusion, and parents were trying to let the teacher know that we didn't all feel this way. It wasn't like the kids hadn't been told this was how it was going to be.

     Guess what our kids will learn today? They will learn that, sometimes, when you are really really tired, you will still have responsibilities. You will still have obligations. You will need to get it all done. You will not always have someone to bail you out. You may hate every moment of it, but, it has to be done. And on the other side of it, you will feel a huge sense of accomplishment, and a lot of pride in yourself, because, you did it! All on your own, because you can.
     Some day, in the not so distant future, these kids will be on their own. In college, raising families, in the work force in some capacity. And sometimes, there are situations when you have to call on reserves you didn't know you had, to get things done, or else. Today, they might get a taste of it. I honestly don't think parents do their kids any favors, when they shield them from every little thing. They will never grow into independent, productive confident adults, if they aren't allowed to have some space, be expected to be responsible, be allowed to problem solve, be allowed to feel that sense of pride that they CAN get things done when things are rough, or be allowed to stand on their own two feet, without their parents holding them up and blocking every less than perfect situation. Some times, you have to give your kid wings, and shove them out of the nest, for their own good.


     Speaking of wings. Here in Western New York, we have a little boy who, gained his this week.

     It began as a mom, writing a Blog, about her son, a little boy with an identical twin brother, who had been diagnosed with stage iv brain cancer. His mom was begging people to pray for a miracle for her baby.
     It took off, in the most unexpected way. A campaign called "Blue For Ben" began. Offices across the region, and even across the country, had "Dress Blue for Ben" days. As did schools. Niagara Falls was lit Blue, the Peace Bridge, office buildings, also turned blue for Ben. Tens of thousands of people prayed for this family, as Ben's mother begged for a miracle for her son. Support poured in from all over the world.
     And Ben's mom continued to chronicle their story via her Blog. Mom's everywhere wept, as they thought of their own kids, and viewed such heartbreak, written from a Mother's point of view.
     With each Blog post, it was evident that, the miracle that Ben's mom had prayed for, was not going to happen. With each post sadder than the last, and not one person I know who could read it without crying, it was clear that Ben was not going to make it.
     In all reality though, Ben's mom DID get her miracle. Just not the one she was looking for. Because, through it all, Ben's mom showed the whole world what amazing faith she had. She almost seemed to accept the inevitable with more grace and acceptance than her followers did. Posts on Facebook wondered in anguish WHY this should happen to a little boy, and not a terrible criminal? Where was the justice? How was this fair? Yes, yes yes, at the same time, Jim Kelly, the retired Buffalo Bills quarter back has cancer, and that's sad,  but, a little boy??? A little boy who loves to play with frogs?? And catch snakes? And who has those DIMPLES?? EVERYONE felt Ben and his family tug on their heartstrings. When Ben's mom announced she was pregnant, it made it even harder to bear. Growing the life of one baby, while watching another fade away. Pregnancy hormones, and the grief of watching your baby's days dwindle. The miracle that Ben's mom got was not that Ben could heal and the cancer would be gone.
     The miracle that Ben's mom got was, herself. She showed the entire Western New York area, and people worldwide, what an amazing faith she had. She brought together communities and parents everywhere, into one big prayer chain. She showed us all this absolute faith in God, and this acceptance of His will, that I don't know I could be a good enough person to ever accept. She showed everyone her serenity with the complete belief that Ben was in heaven, and he was okay, and that God had given them a huge blessing , just letting them borrow Ben for 5 short years. How many parents can honestly say they would feel as Ben's mom did? I don't know that I could.

     Since I am at work, and this post is making me all weepy, I think I should stop writing about Ben.

     I guess, there are all sorts of ways, to give your child wings. Be it Independence, or responsibility, or stepping  back, and letting them deal with life on their own, or, letting them go to heaven, with the trust that God's got this.