Yesterday George had his surgery follow up. We ended up seeing the Doctor's assistant, and the visit went along the lines of:
"We did a test you probably didn't even know we did, while doing your son's surgery."
"Oh really?"
"Oh yes. We were checking for reflux. I see he hasn't been taking his reflux medication."
"No, he hasn't. It tastes horrible, and he had a really hard time recovering the first few weeks. The screaming every morning before school, and the crying, and the trauma was too much. It was just one thing that needed to go. He has never exhibited any signs of reflux. Ever. He seems to have been fine since."
"Well. The tests showed he has no reflux."
"I thought they might reflect that."
"However, I need to educate you about it. I created these handouts. They are in color and everything, so parents can easily follow along."
"But, he has no reflux. You just said so."
"Well, his diet is probably awful. Most American children have a lousy diet."
"Actually, out of all my kids, he seems to be the healthiest eater... he's always digging for fruit and yogurt and veggies and fruit cups and things like that."
"Well, citrus fruit is probably not helping his reflux."
"He doesn't HAVE reflux! And, he doesn't like citrus fruit."
"Well, he probably eats healthy because he knows the other foods will cause pain."
"He's 4. He has no idea. He's never complained of pain, because he DOESN'T HAVE REFLUX!"
"Well, chocolate will do it too."
"He did bring home 5 pounds of candy but - "
"SEE?! BACK TO THE AMERICAN KID'S DIET!"
"-BUT my HUSBAND took all the kids' chocolate. He really didn't get much. He eats baloney at school, but, just discovered it 2 months ago, so, I KNOW that didn't cause his non existent reflux."
"Well, it's just foods like that, that cause your child pain, colds, ear infections."
"OR, his adenoids, because, since they came out, he's been FINE, because, as you said, he has no reflux."
"His reflux could be in remission."
"I am not going to win this, am I?"
"How is he sleeping? Any snoring?"
"No, he's been sleeping fine since the surgery."
"Actually," pipes up George, "I will probably snore tonight."
"There are pets in the house."
"Yes."
"Did you think this may be the cause of your son's problems?"
"No. He never had a reaction to the dogs or the cat. He was tested for allergies while in surgery. How did that turn out?"
"He has none."
"Then why?.... never mind."
Anyhow. George is fine. Clean bill of health and all that.
Also in the household is Joe's new campaign. Joe came home from church the other day, and announced he wanted to help hungry kids. I suggested a change jar that we could donate around Thanksgiving. The rest of the kids jumped right on board that idea. Tooth Fairy money was thrown in, babysitting money was thrown in. I was amazed at my kids!
The school also has a food drive this week. Joe took his favorite soup, that I buy just for him, off the shelf, so he could donate it. He wanted other people to have good foods, and not just what we didn't want that was on the shelf. (Which, to Joe, would pretty much be everything. But, I digress.)
Also, on our plate currently, is Lexi's Swim Club. Lexi is half fish, and is completely happy when she is in the water. As part of the swim team, parents were informed that it was mandatory to sign up for 3 things related to the swim club to help out. Also posted were mandatory sign ups to help out at 2 out of 3 of the home meets. As a newbie, I took this for gospel, as did only about 5 other presumably new parents. So, according to an email I received yesterday, I am now on 2 committees related to the Swim Club, and signed up to do 50/50 raffles at 2 swim meets. I have every intention of handing off the 50/50 obligations to Bearded Man and Kaila, truth be told. Because, I now need to plan Hospitality things and make ribbons. With people I only know vaguely. Anyhow, this promises to be entertaining at the very least.
Which brings us to the last order of business. I am thinking about going back to school. Next fall. To pursue my nursing degree to the next level. Which would mean no life for the next few years, and then working back up at the VA in Buffalo again. Which would shake up our schedules again, take me away from a lot of these extra curricular activities, and have me working holidays and weekends and overnight 12 hour shifts again. Which, if it was just me, would be completely wonderful. But, at graduation, I would have 3 teenagers, and maybe I should stick a little closer to home. As a friend pointed out: They are only young once! It would be so completely wonderful, if I could go back to school though. I have a few months to make up my mind.
That's all the excitement around here! Till next time!
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Soul Searching
Halloween is in a few days. Think about this for a moment. Because, it means that exactly 12 hours after your porch light is off for the night, and your little monsters are tucked into bed, and all parents have thoughtfully consumed all the "Poisoned" chocolate in their kids' treat bags: The holiday season will have officially started.
This year, I am so not ready. Usually I have a layaway started and odds n ends tucked away already. Nada. The other day, I DID leave work a few hours early, so I could drive for 2 hours and pick up a large box of Legos that someone was selling on an online garage sale site for a ridiculously small amount. So. We have Lego's for Christmas so far. I figure I have a few more weeks before the panic needs to officially set in. Honestly: I have not had the time. Every weekend seems so jam packed full of something or other. Once hunting season begins, I will have even less time to get it all done and figure out all the Sunday school schedules, as well. It'll happen somehow. It always does. Mostly, this just means I will probably get not a little snappy with anyone who announces they are pretty much done with their shopping for now.
Last week was Spirit Week at my children's school. My kids seemed to throw themselves into it more wholeheartedly than usual. Ending with this conversation:
"Mom. I have a problem."
"What's up, Joe?"
"I traded spirits with Seth."
"WHAT? Can you repeat that, please?"
"Seth and I traded spirits. It's not good."
Honestly. At this point, I began laughing so hard I couldn't breathe.
"I don't understand why you're laughing, Mom. I miss my spirit."
HOWLING at this point.
"I think it is making me sad, to have to deal with someone Else's spirit."
Tears.
"I don't think we are trading our spirits back for at least another week."
"STOP!!!" I begged, laughing so hard I could barely talk.
"I wonder how my spirit is doing? If it LIKES Seth, or if I should try to get it back early."
This conversation went on for another few minutes. It came out of nowhere, and my immediate reaction of laughter harder than I have laughed in months, was probably inappropriate. I mentally wondered if I should look into an exorcist for my poor spirit-less kid. It was determined during an assembly sometime during Spirit Week, by Joe and Seth, that Joe had more school spirit than Seth, which is highly unusual for both of them, so, somehow their spirits must have gotten switched around.
Even now, as I type this, I am laughing so hard. Joe was planning to go to school and request from Seth that they switch back their spirits today.
I never know what is going to come out of that child's mouth. Recently, Kaila saw me putting my shoes on, and asked if we were going somewhere. I said we were, and Joe proceeded to growl: "She knows too much. Now she must be eliminated."
The other day, when leaving the store, one of the kids asked if we were going home now. I said we were. Only to hear Joe announce "The mission has been completed."
I just never know. I hope all the time, that he never ever changes. Ever.
I had a flash back to Joe at the age of 4 the other day, when George mussed softly that the clouds must probably be soft to the touch. At the same age, Joe was demanding to know everything I knew about clouds, and everything I DIDN'T know about clouds. At no point did he ever look at them dreamily and think they were soft. It's amazing, how different every single kid can be.
I think I'm going to leave it at this today. Mostly because I am completely out of time to write much more. Also because, I needed a smile today, and just writing about Joe gave me one, and I don't want to mess with it. Happy Halloween!
This year, I am so not ready. Usually I have a layaway started and odds n ends tucked away already. Nada. The other day, I DID leave work a few hours early, so I could drive for 2 hours and pick up a large box of Legos that someone was selling on an online garage sale site for a ridiculously small amount. So. We have Lego's for Christmas so far. I figure I have a few more weeks before the panic needs to officially set in. Honestly: I have not had the time. Every weekend seems so jam packed full of something or other. Once hunting season begins, I will have even less time to get it all done and figure out all the Sunday school schedules, as well. It'll happen somehow. It always does. Mostly, this just means I will probably get not a little snappy with anyone who announces they are pretty much done with their shopping for now.
Last week was Spirit Week at my children's school. My kids seemed to throw themselves into it more wholeheartedly than usual. Ending with this conversation:
"Mom. I have a problem."
"What's up, Joe?"
"I traded spirits with Seth."
"WHAT? Can you repeat that, please?"
"Seth and I traded spirits. It's not good."
Honestly. At this point, I began laughing so hard I couldn't breathe.
"I don't understand why you're laughing, Mom. I miss my spirit."
HOWLING at this point.
"I think it is making me sad, to have to deal with someone Else's spirit."
Tears.
"I don't think we are trading our spirits back for at least another week."
"STOP!!!" I begged, laughing so hard I could barely talk.
"I wonder how my spirit is doing? If it LIKES Seth, or if I should try to get it back early."
This conversation went on for another few minutes. It came out of nowhere, and my immediate reaction of laughter harder than I have laughed in months, was probably inappropriate. I mentally wondered if I should look into an exorcist for my poor spirit-less kid. It was determined during an assembly sometime during Spirit Week, by Joe and Seth, that Joe had more school spirit than Seth, which is highly unusual for both of them, so, somehow their spirits must have gotten switched around.
Even now, as I type this, I am laughing so hard. Joe was planning to go to school and request from Seth that they switch back their spirits today.
I never know what is going to come out of that child's mouth. Recently, Kaila saw me putting my shoes on, and asked if we were going somewhere. I said we were, and Joe proceeded to growl: "She knows too much. Now she must be eliminated."
The other day, when leaving the store, one of the kids asked if we were going home now. I said we were. Only to hear Joe announce "The mission has been completed."
I just never know. I hope all the time, that he never ever changes. Ever.
I had a flash back to Joe at the age of 4 the other day, when George mussed softly that the clouds must probably be soft to the touch. At the same age, Joe was demanding to know everything I knew about clouds, and everything I DIDN'T know about clouds. At no point did he ever look at them dreamily and think they were soft. It's amazing, how different every single kid can be.
I think I'm going to leave it at this today. Mostly because I am completely out of time to write much more. Also because, I needed a smile today, and just writing about Joe gave me one, and I don't want to mess with it. Happy Halloween!
Friday, October 17, 2014
Putting It Into Perspective
My thoughts on Ebola.
Yesterday, I had a patient in my office, who was worried almost to the point of panic about Ebola. He had just had a flu vaccine, and then freaked out, pointing out that flu and Ebola symptoms mimic each other at first. He had a lot of questions. To the point that, he actually came back, and wanted to discuss it further. I told him that I had patients and friends who had traveled to the other side of Africa on vacation, and they were fine. I had patients and friends that had traveled to Europe, Texas, Ohio, Atlanta, and all sorts of places, and they were fine. I told him he did not have Ebola, would not get Ebola, and that he was going to be okay. I gave him the example of: Living in New York and being afraid of catching a cold, because he knew someone in Oregon with a cold. I told him he would be fine.
Today, I was spoken to. I had offended a co worker who had recently travelled to one of the places I had mentioned. (As had 3 other people I knew.) Once again, I was in trouble at work. I didn't even bother to explain myself. Where I work, lots of people get offended over seemingly pointless things regularly. It wasn't worth the aggravation or energy. I was told not to talk about traveling patients anymore, because this co worker was seriously offended, and the patient had been upset. (It should be noted, the patient was upset about this before I spoke to him...)
This worries me. In educating a patient, I offended someone.
This is how we get mass panic. This is how we remain uneducated. This is how things get out of control in a moment.
I would hold the exact same conversation all over again in a moment, and get in trouble all over again, too.
This patient I had yesterday made me think. He was worried that he had just had a flu shot, and would have a mild flu-like reaction, and how was he supposed to know the difference? If we had patients who had been all over the place, could we already be exposed? I assured him, he had not. He was fine. I had him sit with me, and we went over everything I could find regarding Ebola. Which, in case anyone was wondering, was precious little. We aren't even completely certain how it is transmitted. Or if we should be worried. Or if this could end up a non issue.
If flu symptoms mimic early Ebola, what could this mean for our Emergency Rooms, once flu season hits, as masses of people who are not sure what's going on, and who listen to daily changing news reports regarding the transmission and treatment and precautions against this virus, panic and flood our health care system?
If we need to worry about offending someone, while trying to reassure our patients, where on earth does this leave our ability to educate, reassure and try to hold back the panic?
I think I worry more about the possibility of an entire health care system getting so overwhelmed with worried patients, and not having the ability to keep up with the flood, as we try to decide who is fine and who is not. As the nursing profession watches CDC staff wear special suits to see the people who have Ebola, while assuring us that a gown and gloves and face shield will work fine to protect us. And our families. As we watch the nursing profession take the fall for every possible wrong action.
I watch the panic on social media. I watch the rolled eyes derision on social media. I listen to concerned patients, neighbors, friends. The discussion is everywhere. There are opinions, conspiracy theories, head in the sand people, and over reacting people.
Mostly because it's something we know nothing about, but which could spread.
I think though, that we have an advantage. Crisis and mass panic aside, we seem to be able to handle it better here in the US of A better than the third world areas that cannot. We know to control the exposure to the best of our ability. We know to quarantine immediately, if we do think we have a problem. Here in America, it is not family members and neighbors who are not adequately protected caring for these patients with bare hands and poor access to nutrition and medical needs. We have highly trained medical staff, with proper equipment, medicines, and around the clock access to everything we can possibly throw at this, to slow it down, prevent the spread and help get these people better.
I only hope that someplace, the nursing profession that will largely deal with this, gets half the accolades deserved; as they enter into the unknown of this virus, putting themselves on the line, as they have criticism for not handling things properly. Doing so with very little knowledge to work with, as things progressed of late.
So. My point to my patient yesterday was: people have travelled. People have been fine. We are pretty on top of and aware, thus far, of the extremely small exposure Americans have had as of yet. Just because someone travels to Texas, does not mean they were exposed to Ebola, because Texas had an Ebola patient. Or Africa. Or Atlanta, Ohio, Spain or anywhere else. My patient was as soothed as he was going to get, considering he had come in already in a panic about this. He was given educational materials, reassured, and sent on his way. Putting it into perspective seemed to help. Discussing things in comparison, such as the cold in Oregon not being contagious in New York, seemed to help.
As a nurse, and a human being, I can only think that, we are doing the best we all can, with very little education regarding this, and the expectation that we will know what to say, how to deal with it all, how to keep everyone safe. And we had better have a 100% success rate, or be raked over the coals on every news and social media site on the planet.
Offending people, is the least of my worries.
Yesterday, I had a patient in my office, who was worried almost to the point of panic about Ebola. He had just had a flu vaccine, and then freaked out, pointing out that flu and Ebola symptoms mimic each other at first. He had a lot of questions. To the point that, he actually came back, and wanted to discuss it further. I told him that I had patients and friends who had traveled to the other side of Africa on vacation, and they were fine. I had patients and friends that had traveled to Europe, Texas, Ohio, Atlanta, and all sorts of places, and they were fine. I told him he did not have Ebola, would not get Ebola, and that he was going to be okay. I gave him the example of: Living in New York and being afraid of catching a cold, because he knew someone in Oregon with a cold. I told him he would be fine.
Today, I was spoken to. I had offended a co worker who had recently travelled to one of the places I had mentioned. (As had 3 other people I knew.) Once again, I was in trouble at work. I didn't even bother to explain myself. Where I work, lots of people get offended over seemingly pointless things regularly. It wasn't worth the aggravation or energy. I was told not to talk about traveling patients anymore, because this co worker was seriously offended, and the patient had been upset. (It should be noted, the patient was upset about this before I spoke to him...)
This worries me. In educating a patient, I offended someone.
This is how we get mass panic. This is how we remain uneducated. This is how things get out of control in a moment.
I would hold the exact same conversation all over again in a moment, and get in trouble all over again, too.
This patient I had yesterday made me think. He was worried that he had just had a flu shot, and would have a mild flu-like reaction, and how was he supposed to know the difference? If we had patients who had been all over the place, could we already be exposed? I assured him, he had not. He was fine. I had him sit with me, and we went over everything I could find regarding Ebola. Which, in case anyone was wondering, was precious little. We aren't even completely certain how it is transmitted. Or if we should be worried. Or if this could end up a non issue.
If flu symptoms mimic early Ebola, what could this mean for our Emergency Rooms, once flu season hits, as masses of people who are not sure what's going on, and who listen to daily changing news reports regarding the transmission and treatment and precautions against this virus, panic and flood our health care system?
If we need to worry about offending someone, while trying to reassure our patients, where on earth does this leave our ability to educate, reassure and try to hold back the panic?
I think I worry more about the possibility of an entire health care system getting so overwhelmed with worried patients, and not having the ability to keep up with the flood, as we try to decide who is fine and who is not. As the nursing profession watches CDC staff wear special suits to see the people who have Ebola, while assuring us that a gown and gloves and face shield will work fine to protect us. And our families. As we watch the nursing profession take the fall for every possible wrong action.
I watch the panic on social media. I watch the rolled eyes derision on social media. I listen to concerned patients, neighbors, friends. The discussion is everywhere. There are opinions, conspiracy theories, head in the sand people, and over reacting people.
Mostly because it's something we know nothing about, but which could spread.
I think though, that we have an advantage. Crisis and mass panic aside, we seem to be able to handle it better here in the US of A better than the third world areas that cannot. We know to control the exposure to the best of our ability. We know to quarantine immediately, if we do think we have a problem. Here in America, it is not family members and neighbors who are not adequately protected caring for these patients with bare hands and poor access to nutrition and medical needs. We have highly trained medical staff, with proper equipment, medicines, and around the clock access to everything we can possibly throw at this, to slow it down, prevent the spread and help get these people better.
I only hope that someplace, the nursing profession that will largely deal with this, gets half the accolades deserved; as they enter into the unknown of this virus, putting themselves on the line, as they have criticism for not handling things properly. Doing so with very little knowledge to work with, as things progressed of late.
So. My point to my patient yesterday was: people have travelled. People have been fine. We are pretty on top of and aware, thus far, of the extremely small exposure Americans have had as of yet. Just because someone travels to Texas, does not mean they were exposed to Ebola, because Texas had an Ebola patient. Or Africa. Or Atlanta, Ohio, Spain or anywhere else. My patient was as soothed as he was going to get, considering he had come in already in a panic about this. He was given educational materials, reassured, and sent on his way. Putting it into perspective seemed to help. Discussing things in comparison, such as the cold in Oregon not being contagious in New York, seemed to help.
As a nurse, and a human being, I can only think that, we are doing the best we all can, with very little education regarding this, and the expectation that we will know what to say, how to deal with it all, how to keep everyone safe. And we had better have a 100% success rate, or be raked over the coals on every news and social media site on the planet.
Offending people, is the least of my worries.
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
WHAT IF...????
Just a quick lunch break post. Brought on by a horrifying Email I just read.
Some Super Mom, who I, at some point, subscribed to receive emails about healthy foods for kids or something like that, sent an Email that had something along the lines of: Pack at home healthy lunches, and, a recent school project in which her child had to keep a food diary.
O.M.G. This was panic inducing for me. WHAT IF MY kids had that project??!!!
I would probably have the authorities on my doorstep. I would have to keep my own diary of what the kids were actually OFFERED, and send it in with my child's food diary. It would look something like this, I imagine:
Joe:
Breakfast: Cereal with no milk.
Me:
Breakfast: Offered: Yogurt, fruit cups, apples, grapes, bananas, eggs, toast with homemade preserves, milk and OJ. Refuses to eat cereal with milk.
Joe:
Lunch: 2 graham crackers, an apple, a granola bar.
Me:
Lunch: Offered yogurt, apple sauce, assorted fresh fruits, baby carrots, raisins, hard boiled eggs, veggie salad, celery with peanut butter, PB&J with homemade fruit preserves, cheese, baloney, nuts, bottled water, water in special BPA free bottles, fruit cups, egg salad.
Joe:
Dinner: Nothing.
Me:
Dinner: Offered: Chili, (or) chicken, (or) steak, (or) beef roast, (or) pork chops, fresh steamed veggies, mashed potatoes, brown rice, apple sauce, fresh bread and butter, milk and/or water. Child burst into tears, announced I hated him, and stomped to bedroom complete with slamming door. Further, should we decided to do a personal hygiene journal next: Said child has decided he probably does not need a shower, as he will starve to death soon anyway. Heads up.
Kaila: Breakfast: Nothing
Me: Breakfast: See above entries.
Kaila: Lunch: 2 apples, granola bar
Me: See above entries
Kaila: Dinner: 2 pork chops. Nothing to drink
Me: See above entries.
Teacher, please note that once again, in reference to the personal hygiene module that is happening next: Showers were unavailable as it was this child's night to do the dishes, which took 2 hours, all the hot water, several breaks, threatening the life of her brother, tears, and a furious personal diary entry. Thank you.
Dear Franklinville School District,
Please do not ever EVER do a food journal project.
Thank you,
Moriah Dick
Some Super Mom, who I, at some point, subscribed to receive emails about healthy foods for kids or something like that, sent an Email that had something along the lines of: Pack at home healthy lunches, and, a recent school project in which her child had to keep a food diary.
O.M.G. This was panic inducing for me. WHAT IF MY kids had that project??!!!
I would probably have the authorities on my doorstep. I would have to keep my own diary of what the kids were actually OFFERED, and send it in with my child's food diary. It would look something like this, I imagine:
Joe:
Breakfast: Cereal with no milk.
Me:
Breakfast: Offered: Yogurt, fruit cups, apples, grapes, bananas, eggs, toast with homemade preserves, milk and OJ. Refuses to eat cereal with milk.
Joe:
Lunch: 2 graham crackers, an apple, a granola bar.
Me:
Lunch: Offered yogurt, apple sauce, assorted fresh fruits, baby carrots, raisins, hard boiled eggs, veggie salad, celery with peanut butter, PB&J with homemade fruit preserves, cheese, baloney, nuts, bottled water, water in special BPA free bottles, fruit cups, egg salad.
Joe:
Dinner: Nothing.
Me:
Dinner: Offered: Chili, (or) chicken, (or) steak, (or) beef roast, (or) pork chops, fresh steamed veggies, mashed potatoes, brown rice, apple sauce, fresh bread and butter, milk and/or water. Child burst into tears, announced I hated him, and stomped to bedroom complete with slamming door. Further, should we decided to do a personal hygiene journal next: Said child has decided he probably does not need a shower, as he will starve to death soon anyway. Heads up.
Kaila: Breakfast: Nothing
Me: Breakfast: See above entries.
Kaila: Lunch: 2 apples, granola bar
Me: See above entries
Kaila: Dinner: 2 pork chops. Nothing to drink
Me: See above entries.
Teacher, please note that once again, in reference to the personal hygiene module that is happening next: Showers were unavailable as it was this child's night to do the dishes, which took 2 hours, all the hot water, several breaks, threatening the life of her brother, tears, and a furious personal diary entry. Thank you.
Dear Franklinville School District,
Please do not ever EVER do a food journal project.
Thank you,
Moriah Dick
Monday, October 6, 2014
But Have They Starved?
Evidently, someone alerted my Mother in Law about my last Blog. Because, within a few hours of posting it: she called Bearded Man from her hospital bed, to tell him she has a recipe for spaghetti sauce that uses 28 ingredients. Bless you, Mole.
While listening to Bearded Man's excitement over more of his Mama's unbeatable cooking, all I could think was: Joe's wife will never ever have this issue. Ever. She will be delighted to be regaled with his tales of childhood near starvation, due to my cooking.
I am not a gourmet cook, by any means, but, I'm pretty good, I think, by normal standards. Nobody HAS died, even after years of threatening to.
To date: I have finished canning grape jam, and ended up with 20 pints of it. (the math here includes that this homemade goodness consists of exactly 42 cups of sugar and 28 cups of grapes. Eat up, kids.) Unfortunately, my kids only like Smucker's strawberry preserves. Nothing more, nothing less. I now have shelves of apple, peach and grape preserves and jam, and not a strawberry among them. So, now, I will have no chemicals, no preservatives, and no cavities, because no one will eat any of it. Problem solved.
The household has been pretty intense lately. Poor George has caught every single bug that being exposed to the public school system during surgery recovery can throw at him. As I type this, he is at home from school - again - with yet another fever/headache/vomiting/lethargy bug. Which is probably something of a relief to the people at school who have to deal with his morning hysterics. I spent most of the weekend with him in my lap, sleeping. Also at home, are Kaila and Joe with a less horrible version of the bug.
The fact that the household in general seems to hate everything that isn't ordered on the other end of the phone, (which is rare) alleviates the guilt that I plan to make chili for dinner tonight. The ill of the household may eat the oyster crackers. They wouldn't have eaten it even if they were all healthy.
This past weekend, I decided to look at upgrading my vehicle. It still GOES, but, it has issues. As in: the ABS system does not work, the 4X4 doesn't work, the left side back door doesn't work, the speedometer doesn't work... anyhow, I thought I would just look, to see what's out there. I test drove a few things, looked at another few things, went to a few different dealerships, and decided there wasn't anything out there that I like better than my current vehicle, right now. Bearded Man is convinced I need a minivan. The dealers are convinced I need a minivan. Bearded Man has convinced the kids, that I need a minivan. Pretty much, I am the only person unconvinced that I need (want) a minivan. So, I decided to wait till spring.
This past weekend, the kids and I took the dogs to our church for the blessing of the animals. I figure our little dears need as much as they can get. And if the Good Lord could just bless Buster the dog with permanent laryngitis, that would be great. Anyhow, we, and lots of other people, took the dogs to church. Which Turbo thought was the most amazing fun awesome thing EVER, as every person and dog in the whole wide world is a best friend, until proven otherwise. Buster is not so easily convinced, and as far as he's concerned, everyone is a mortal enemy, until proven otherwise. Blessing/Exorcism, potato/potahtoe. Anyhow, there is this really nice lady at our church, who LOVES to take pictures, and hang them up on a special board, as you walk in. Every single month, without fail, this person manages to take the most dreadful pictures of me that I ever thought possible, and posts them on her board. The DMV and their (probably specialty training in "DREADFUL PICTURES 101") have NOTHING on this nice lady at my church.
Sure enough. In less than 24 hours, my kids, my dogs, and myself, were once again, posted on the church picture board. Every time I walk past it, all I can think is "It's a sin to be vain. This is a test. I will not care...... *whimper* OMG, it's even worse this month than LAST month!" Anyhow. The dogs are blessed, and I continue to be vain enough to shudder every time I walk past the church picture board. Honestly, this lady is the nicest person in the entire world, too. I am so going to hell.
Before I go: Heads up to anyone living in or around Franklinville. Joe needs to sell popcorn for Cub Scouts. His goal is to sell $4,000. in popcorn, so he can earn himself a Tablet. You have been warned.
While listening to Bearded Man's excitement over more of his Mama's unbeatable cooking, all I could think was: Joe's wife will never ever have this issue. Ever. She will be delighted to be regaled with his tales of childhood near starvation, due to my cooking.
I am not a gourmet cook, by any means, but, I'm pretty good, I think, by normal standards. Nobody HAS died, even after years of threatening to.
To date: I have finished canning grape jam, and ended up with 20 pints of it. (the math here includes that this homemade goodness consists of exactly 42 cups of sugar and 28 cups of grapes. Eat up, kids.) Unfortunately, my kids only like Smucker's strawberry preserves. Nothing more, nothing less. I now have shelves of apple, peach and grape preserves and jam, and not a strawberry among them. So, now, I will have no chemicals, no preservatives, and no cavities, because no one will eat any of it. Problem solved.
The household has been pretty intense lately. Poor George has caught every single bug that being exposed to the public school system during surgery recovery can throw at him. As I type this, he is at home from school - again - with yet another fever/headache/vomiting/lethargy bug. Which is probably something of a relief to the people at school who have to deal with his morning hysterics. I spent most of the weekend with him in my lap, sleeping. Also at home, are Kaila and Joe with a less horrible version of the bug.
The fact that the household in general seems to hate everything that isn't ordered on the other end of the phone, (which is rare) alleviates the guilt that I plan to make chili for dinner tonight. The ill of the household may eat the oyster crackers. They wouldn't have eaten it even if they were all healthy.
This past weekend, I decided to look at upgrading my vehicle. It still GOES, but, it has issues. As in: the ABS system does not work, the 4X4 doesn't work, the left side back door doesn't work, the speedometer doesn't work... anyhow, I thought I would just look, to see what's out there. I test drove a few things, looked at another few things, went to a few different dealerships, and decided there wasn't anything out there that I like better than my current vehicle, right now. Bearded Man is convinced I need a minivan. The dealers are convinced I need a minivan. Bearded Man has convinced the kids, that I need a minivan. Pretty much, I am the only person unconvinced that I need (want) a minivan. So, I decided to wait till spring.
This past weekend, the kids and I took the dogs to our church for the blessing of the animals. I figure our little dears need as much as they can get. And if the Good Lord could just bless Buster the dog with permanent laryngitis, that would be great. Anyhow, we, and lots of other people, took the dogs to church. Which Turbo thought was the most amazing fun awesome thing EVER, as every person and dog in the whole wide world is a best friend, until proven otherwise. Buster is not so easily convinced, and as far as he's concerned, everyone is a mortal enemy, until proven otherwise. Blessing/Exorcism, potato/potahtoe. Anyhow, there is this really nice lady at our church, who LOVES to take pictures, and hang them up on a special board, as you walk in. Every single month, without fail, this person manages to take the most dreadful pictures of me that I ever thought possible, and posts them on her board. The DMV and their (probably specialty training in "DREADFUL PICTURES 101") have NOTHING on this nice lady at my church.
Sure enough. In less than 24 hours, my kids, my dogs, and myself, were once again, posted on the church picture board. Every time I walk past it, all I can think is "It's a sin to be vain. This is a test. I will not care...... *whimper* OMG, it's even worse this month than LAST month!" Anyhow. The dogs are blessed, and I continue to be vain enough to shudder every time I walk past the church picture board. Honestly, this lady is the nicest person in the entire world, too. I am so going to hell.
Before I go: Heads up to anyone living in or around Franklinville. Joe needs to sell popcorn for Cub Scouts. His goal is to sell $4,000. in popcorn, so he can earn himself a Tablet. You have been warned.
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
The Trauma of Canning Grapes
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!
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!
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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