Florida

Before we came down here I thought I had no idea what to expect.  I'm not sure what I did expect, but this isn't it.  It is so much more and less and kind of sort of sideways from everything normal in my life. I love it and hate it and thrill at our adventures and ache for consistency.  So before it's gone I thought I should write down some tidbits of life here.  (I just love the word tidbits it sounds so appropriate to its usage and funny on my tongue)

This is out our back door.  Can you even believe how lucky I am to be living in a place where I get to wake up to geese, and egrets and fishes? Beautiful. And doubly so since it has continued to be cold back home.  It feels like my insides have thawed.  I am so very much like my grandma in this sense.  The cold goes right through to my bones. (Which Dan says is a silly saying that makes absolutely no sense whatever, but I don't care because that's exactly how it feels, you know?) I wasn't even aware of the frozen nature of life really until I walked outside without shoes on and it was glory.  I bet Lee thinks so too because I can NOT keep shoes on that kid. Shoes or no shoes I think that perhaps Florida in April/May is the most glorious place on earth. 

On the other hand, what isn't pictured is the view from about 90 degrees around.  It is the freeway.  The constant sound of the coming and going of humanity. Even at 1 AM. I thought after a while I would get used to it and not hear it anymore, but I guess it hasn't been long enough yet. It is such a funny clash to my brain.  The kids and I happened on a momma goose with her goslings at the edge of that pond the other day on our way home from swimming. We stopped and watched as she patiently ushered them in the right direction while they wandered this way and that. It was funny to watch her issue warnings to them about us. I felt like we were somehow living in the pages of a book while life just buzzed around us.  How is it that life can move so quickly and so slowly at the same moment?

That's what living here is though. Fast and slow and different each day with a sameness about them all that strings them together into the narrative of our life.

Coming home

A year is too long a time for me to plan for. A year is only a good length of time for remembering. And sometimes not even then. Sometimes a year ago turns out to be foggy memories cobbled together from photos taken and words written and emotions felt. A year is forever in the life of a young child and a second in the eye of his mother.

With that in mind I thought I needed to write down our experience of coming home. It felt magical I tell you. The kids did so well in the plane. Lee even made a few flight attendants laugh. Daniel had been home a week and had Saturday, the day before we were coming off. He cleaned the house and organized the fridge and coat closet and our bedroom closet. And he went grocery shopping.

Flying home to him reminds me of our 7 month engagement spent almost entirely apart. We flew to see each other. I get off the plane and walk. This time I had my hands completely full so even Lee had to walk. It was very slow with heavy lifting from everyone. Our plane came in at the farthest gate from baggage claim so we rode a few walkways, but mostly we slowly made our way to baggage claim. With every step my anticipation grew. He had said he was running late so I didn't anticipate him being there. We made it to our spot and dropped our bags and suddenly he was there wrapping the kids in a big hug. Receiving presents from Charlotte and taking my load from me. I am always surprised at the level of happy I feel coming home to him though I guess I shouldn't be by now.

We made it home and I walked in the door of my house and was confronted with the comforts of home instead of the inevitable mess we always seem to leave it in. It was like a real vacation without the extra work tacked on behind. Then we all unpacked together leisurely with jokes and laughter.

Today I was able to spend inside with the kids taking down Christmas because of him. We played and made cookies and got everything boxed up all at once. That wouldn't have been possible without his work. I work hard to make so many things in his life work. And he does the same for me. So that's something worth remembering.

While I'm Bragging

This is a video of Charlotte's first violin recital. She did a twinkle variation played on the open E string. I was so proud of her getting up there all on her own which was the hardest part for her.

Vomit and Other Christmas Items

For some reason throwing up and Christmas seem invariably connected in our family.  Not sure why.  It just happens.  This year's reincarnation of pukefest happened for the last five days.  FIVE DAYS.  During that time Lee was sick and Greg was sick then I was sick then Greg was sick again then Charlotte our last bastion of health succumbed and spent Sunday looking like death warmed over.

Speaking of which I have noticed a clear division of what the sick face looks like at our house.  Greg and I turn pasty, ghostly white.  Dan, Charlotte and Lee get sort of green looking with purple raccoon eyes.  I have never seen so dramatic a change as I do in Charlotte's face when she's sick. It was horrible. Also I kept feeling bad because I wasn't getting any of our Christmas things done.  We weren't baking.  We weren't delivering presents, we weren't singing songs.  I was feeling decidedly left out of the season. And on top of all that Dan was GONE.  Gone I tell you! It was residency interview weekend and call weekend and so he saw very little of the horribleness that was The Barfarama.  There was no way I could have made it through without the very thoughtful and generous help of my friends and neighbors.  I am overwhelmed with the support I get from people here.

Anyway, since Charlotte was sick yesterday she couldn't go to school today.  By my count she was student number 6 in her class to be sick in the past week.  And in an effort to slow the progress of this horrible virus she wasn't allowed back until 24 hours of symptom free had happened.  But she was perfectly fine today. She was fine and I was fine and Lee was fine and Greg was fine and did I mention that we had been stuck inside for five days? Because yeah.  I'm not a homebody.

So today I decided we weren't staying home.  And I also decided that we weren't going to watch any screens.  No TV, laptop, iPad, DVD player.  And that's when I finally welcomed in Christmas.

First, when Greg woke up today he was howling with tears.  This he does occasionally.  Any and every thing will set him off and the only way to stop it is to completely change his environment.  So we decided to try out Moms and tots ice skating.  It was our first time and we were the only ones on the ice.  For nine dollars (one adult and one youth and one skate rental) we had the ice to ourselves for an hour.  It was amazing.

 Lee, in true form wanted so very badly to be with the big kids he got that cage thing and figured out how to clumsily move himself around the ice-in skates that were two sizes too big.

 I had to get a guy that worked at the REC center to take our photo because again, we were the only ones there. Also I was totally sweating.  No need for the heavy coat when the rink is indoors!

 Skating was super fun right up until the Zamboni came out to smooth out the hockey rink next to ours.  Then the boys rather quickly gave up on skating and watched the process with a keen interest. That's alright Charlotte and I raced (she's faster than I) and twirled (she's smoother than I) and had fun. She even taught me how to stop, which I never knew before.  My preferred method is running into the wall.

Here is Lee when we had finished our hour.  You can see here his most preferred shoes these days are his boots.

 After the ice rink Charlotte decided that we needed to have our very own Christmas pageant. Mary and Joseph started out in Lee's room and traveled to Bethlehem in my room.  Baby Jesus was born and put in a bowl or manger whichever you prefer.  The nativity went well until the shepherd really REALLY wanted to hold the baby Jesus and Mary wouldn't let him.  Since it was about a half our past the shepherd's nap you can imagine how that went.

After Lee went down for a nap the three of us headed to the back yard and went sledding.  Charlotte discovered sledding downhill while standing on her sled like it was a snowboard.  When she got too scared she'd just fall off.

 After sledding and shoveling the driveway, and then baths, and then a successful treasure hunt looking for my lost ring we decided to make gingerbread men.  We only made the dough though.  Save some fun for tomorrow. Just before bed we rounded off the night with A Charlie Brown Christmas.  So not really a screen free day, but a pretty amazing "sick day" if you ask me.

Below is a video of Charlotte's skating.  Thanks to Great Grandma and Grandpa's Christmas presents the last few years Charlotte's lessons have taught her these skills. (Sorry my voice is so loud.)

Christmas Shopping

Saturday afternoon, when Dan got off work, he and I decided to take a trip out to Cabela's and the Outlet Mall to do a little Christmas shopping. I thoroughly enjoyed myself and I feel I have to write down some of what happened.

We were in Cabela's and after spotting Santa and sitting on his lap for a photo (except not Lee because the whole world would have come to an end) the kids got pretty hyped up about Christmas presents.  Except oddly not for themselves. Santa asked Charlotte what she wanted for Christmas and she said, "I don't know. Surprises I guess."  I attribute this to not watching any commercials on TV for however long its been since we cancelled cable TV and only watch things on Amazon prime. At any rate they were excited to find presents for other people.  

The tricky part about present shopping with the whole family is that everyone you are trying to buy for is standing right there.  Charlotte found a whistle she thought Lee would enjoy.  She wanted to keep the surprise (not realizing that his memory doesn't last that long) so she attempted to put it in her pocket.  I told her that we can't do that until after we pay for it.  Somehow Greg must not have heard that exchange.  About twenty minutes later we were in the camping section looking at flashlights for Daddy.  The kids agreed on a camping lantern to give to Daddy as a present.  As I'm trying to figure out how to get this across the store without Dan noticing Greg excitedly comes up to me and stage whispers in my ear, "MOM! I have my present for Daddy in my pants!" Yes, that's right.  He had taken a different flashlight off the shelf and shoved it down his pants.  Merry Christmas and a happy new felon!

The keeping the surprise lasted through check out as well.  I was paying for Dan's gift and I had hidden the gift Charlotte had picked out for Greg.  I told Greg to go look at the magnets.  He didn't want to, but whining about not wanting to distracted him enough that the checker lady quick took the present and put it behind the counter and then in the bag without him noticing.  Charlotte also didn't notice the quick moves of the checker because about 10 seconds later I hear her say, "OK MOM! NOW!" I look over and she has Greg in a head lock with one arm and is covering his eyes with the other. Nothing says I love you like nearly wrestling your brother to the ground.

Lee's Words I Love

Lee is getting a lot of words right now.  Some are not fun (MINE! NO!), but some are very, very fun.  He doesn't say them right and the mispronunciation makes them all the more endearing to me. I'm not even going to try to spell out how he says them.  I'm just writing them to remember.
Nap time
belly button
please
Kara (Charlotte's friend)
Poop
Yuck
Suzie

What's for dinner?

Today I sat down and planned our food out.  It's printed out and currently hanging on our fridge.  Then I wrote a list and went to the store and purchased all that food.

All that took from 9:30 until 1:30. And also about $250. Gah!

But, it's worth it for the feeling I have when I look at a fully stocked fridge full of food that promises to be delicious.  As I was checking out the lady behind me noticed a box of pop tarts to the side of the register and asked, "These aren't yours are they?" To which I shrugged and said, "No." Then she said, "They didn't look like they belonged with the rest of the food you had there."

I thought that was funny because I'm not opposed to pop tarts every now and then.  I didn't want them today and whats more the part of the food that was left was all produce, baby lettuces, avocados, onions.  She didn't see the four boxes of mac n cheese (one of the few things I can count on Lee to actually eat) or the hot dogs (a favorite of Greg).

Often I wonder if I'm really feeding my children and my body the right things.  I hope I am.  I don't consider myself an extreme of healthy living or eating, but I'm certainly not buying boxed dinners every night.  I've never done a fad diet, but I've also never had frozen dinners nightly either.

And for me, for this family, for us maybe that's the key. Middle of the road.  Sometimes cookies are eaten instead of apples.  But so long as my kids know what asparagus, and turnips, and celery are I think I've done my part.

Now ask me that tonight when I have a young boy that throws my dinner on the ground instead of even trying one bite and you might get a different answer.

Dan

When I was young my parents bought me an electric mattress pad. I loved that thing. My room was in the daylight basement and that house was cold. Nobody else believed me, but I was cold I tell you. My mom thought it was funny that I would keep it on even in August. I'll tell you what though, last July when I was there for a visit I turned that thing on. 

I was thinking about that electric mattress pad last weekend when Dan was in Dallas. Then he came back and I realized he's better than one of those things. Just his body heat keeps the bed warm enough. And if it isn't I can scoot closer and be in his circle of warmth. 

He must know this because every day when he gets up at 4am he reaches down, pulls the comforter up and covers me so the warmth won't leave me. Now that's true love.

A not very flattering photo of us with Dan yet again asleep.

Opposite Day

Charlotte woke up this morning and declared today opposite day.  The problem here is that everyone else either A) Doesn't get it or B) Doesn't care.  It produced some funny and frustrating moments during our morning routine.  Here is one of them:

C: Lee, today is opposite day so we get to say that Greg is a girl.
G: NO I'M NOT!
C: Greg, it's opposite day so that means we call you a girl.
G: BUT I'M NOT
C: Girls are the second most complicated thing there is!  Right behind rockets. Don't you want to be the second most complicated thing?
Me: I think he just wants to be a boy because he is a boy.
G: NO! I want to be a cheetah.

After that followed a discussion of if he wants to be a cheetah then we need to call him whatever the opposite of cheetah is and what is the opposite of a cheetah anyway.

After I found out she would do whatever I asked her to so long as I played along with her opposite game this little gem happened:

Me: Charlotte the dishwasher doesn't need to be emptied so you don't have to do it now.
C: What? Oh! OK! She walks over and starts emptying the dishwasher.
C: Greg, the silverware isn't clean and doesn't need to be put away.
G: OK. Then he keeps playing with his cars because he still doesn't get it.

Dan's Gone

Having Daddy gone shouldn't be such a big deal anymore, but it is.  He had a very busy week this week wherein he saw the children once on Wednesday night then left for a training meeting Thursday and wont see them again until Monday.  I'm trying not to let it get to me because if it does the kids will let it get to them.

Every time the front door opens Lee runs to it so he can welcome Daddy home.  Then is very disappointed to find out it was just me taking out the garbage. He is also very funny and very frustrating and changing every single day.  He is totally communicating with me now, even though much of what is communicated is non-verbal.

Ice skating lessons started last night.  Charlotte was so proud to be moved up to the red group.  Probably I should figure out what that means exactly since I realized that after three seasons now I should consider getting a bit more involved.  Greg joined her last night and was so cute on his hockey skates.  He got off the ice and said he didn't like falling down, but he can't wait to try again next week.

Charlotte is having her first violin recital on Sunday.  She worked so hard and her teacher told her on Thursday that she will actually get to use the violin for the recital.  She was thrilled and I was thrilled.  We've been playing "pretend it's recital time" wherein she practices her twinkle variation while standing on top of the arts and crafts table.  Then we all clap and cheer wildly for her.  She even received a new dress for the occasion (thanks grandma).

This, this is what Daddy is missing.  Usually it doesn't get to me because I know my children know that their daddy loves them.  He loves them so much and they are precious to him and he finds ways of showing them that even though he misses these things. I just wish medicine didn't have to take over this particular weekend.

A Big Sigh of Relief

One trait of the women in my family is that they love trees.  I was practically raised by druid women.  The last time I counted my parent's 1/4ish acre lot my parents had planted 25 trees on it.  It looks beautiful.  Our yard boasts 7 trees 2 of which are evergreens.  That means 5 trees turning beautiful colors and dropping leaves.

I spent all of October holding my breath in dread over these 5 trees.  Or really over 3 of them.  You see one in the back yard got sick and then I think might have infected the other two.  Or, if you ask Dan, maybe not.  At any rate two of these trees are a total source of joy in my life.  They grow quickly and are beautiful in the summer. In the spring the tiny leaves are so funny to see growing on the branches making them look like fuzzy caterpillars. They also provide shade and privacy.  The problem is that they are not sturdy trees. They just aren't.  Each big storm we look out to see what branches tore off of them. So you can naturally see how I spent my October worrying over them. September was unusually warm.  Then it turned cold quickly so the leaves didn't really get a chance to turn colors and drop.  I was in constant fear that it would snow on those weak branches with leaves still on and our trees would be goners.

Worry no more my friends. Last night was a cold windy night and I woke up this morning to a blanket of gold covering our backyard.  Beautiful.  And now if it snows I'm less worried over the trees. Though if it snows on top of the leaves in the grass the lawn is a goner.  Well, win some lose some right?

My Favorite

So you know what my favorite holiday is? Thanksgiving. I like it so much we celebrate it every day for a month.  We do tons of stuff, some of it service oriented, some of it religious, some of it turkey hands and the like. We check out Thanksgiving books from the library and read them all month long. Usually this gets my creative juices flowing and I enjoy doing these things with my kids. I thinking spending so much time being grateful makes our whole family happier.

Somehow I have had a hard time getting into it this year. I took down all our Halloween decorations, but have nothing to put up for Thanksgiving.  I was thinking about skipping the thankful bowl entirely this year until last night when Charlotte asked about it.  I guess I'll have to put some more effort into my celebrations this year.

Anybody else have ideas that I could use?

Medicinal Thoughts on Medicine

I went to Utah last weekend for Grandma's funeral.  All I can say is that it was lovely and she had picked out her own pink casket.  All other thoughts and feelings haven't settled enough to articulate.

***Disclaimer***These are just thought's I've been having lately.  They have nothing to do with any actual cases my husband has had or things he has encountered.  I've actually requested that he tell me about work only in generalities because, not being a doctor, I think it's gross.


In the mean time, I thought I'd share some thoughts I'd had about medicine recently.  And no these thoughts have nothing to do with the delivery system of healthcare (Affordable Care Act).  Mostly I've been thinking about how mind blowing it is that people have surgeries at all.  Before I left it in the back seat of my grandparent's car (different set than above) I was reading the biography of the Mayo Brothers.  Interesting book.  I had only gotten through the part of Dr. WW Mayo (the father).  He lived during a bridge time where when he first started practicing medicine abdominal surgeries were unheard of and extremity surgeries were mostly just for amputations.  Then during his career lifetime he first read about then saw and then improved on the surgical technique of ovarectomy. Or however that is spelled. When he first did it the only reason was that the ovarian tumor was going to kill the lady anyway so she said to give it a shot.  She figured as most physicians did at the time that she would be dead.  She didn't die. Crazy huh? Then during the career lifetime of the Mayo brothers antiseptic measures were proposed that made surgeries much less prone to secondary infections.

Today people routinely go into surgery.  Take my husband for example.  (Or any generic orthopedist if you prefer.) People come to him who have problems that are debilitating, but 100% not life threatening.  Then they ask him to cut into their body dig some things out and sew them back up. My husband puts cement into people's bodies. Cement! (You know the body kind of cement.) In any other scenario but a surgical one a person sustaining that kind of injury would be dead. But not only do we expect these people to not die, we expect them to fully recover and to improve their lives. And this isn't supposed to be remarkable.

I can't imagine being the person who calls the shots in that scenario.  No back up, nobody to hold your hand, nothing.  Of course there are people in there to help and assist. Without those people I'm sure much of modern surgeries wouldn't be possible, but when the chips are down and a decision needs to be made that will effect the rest of someone else's life there has to be one person to make the call.  I am so glad it isn't me.  I could never go to a profession that has that much stress all the time.  Because bodies aren't the same.  And you can make mistakes. And even if you don't make mistakes sometimes people die anyway.  Or don't fully recover or the surgery you thought would be perfect for them didn't help them as much as you would have hoped.

Also, I'm glad that Dan is the kind of person who can handle that stress.  And also that he enjoys helping people.  He really truly does enjoy helping others. And it amazes me the knowledge and skills he has gained in order to help others these past 8 years.  I am blown away by what the medical profession can do.

Gratitude

So my grandma died. I was thinking of a way I could say that politely, but I've said passed away so many times in the past few days and it has sort of started to sound strange to my ears. Then again so does died.  At any rate she's gone and in a show of solidarity our dishwasher decided to pass away the very next morning.

Then yesterday I took Lee to his 15 month well child check (at 19 months, oops) and the doctor heard a murmur in his heart.  At first I wasn't concerned because Greg has an innocent murmur and I figured we've already gone through this before. It didn't sound quite right to be an innocent murmur though so he referred us to a pediatric cardiologist.  Lee and I went to that appointment this morning. The cardiologist listened and listened and listened to his heart from every angle on the body then said it didn't sound like a classic innocent murmur and I have to take him in for an echocardiogram. We are having that done this afternoon.  It is terrifying when an expert at children's hearts says that your son's heart doesn't sound right.

Right now I am in a fog of chaos. My house looks as if some giant hand came and flipped it upside down then let the papers and clothing and shoes and books fall like a snow globe wherever they wanted to and then let the dog roll around in it.  Right now that's ok with me because it looks like how the inside of my head feels. Despite that feeling I keep being amazed at how things keep turning out. So in order to document the tender mercies I seem to be receiving I thought that is what I will share today.

First, when Charlotte's friend came over this morning they decided to have a before school dance party in our front room. The music they chose is the new CD Charlotte got for being the friend at bring a friend to Awanas (sp?) night. They were rockin' out to the lyrics of don't worry about anything just pray about everything. Not our usual fare for a Wednesday morning, but it really touched me. I am so grateful to know that my daughter has good friends. Friends who think its good and fun to be good.

Also and in no particular order I was very grateful for the doctors we have worked with the past two days. Lee's family doctor is also a member of our church and the father of one of Greg's buddies. He is a wonderful and caring man and I am grateful for him. The cardiologist this morning is clearly used to working with kids. When he got in the room the first thing he did was make a toy for Lee out of a tongue depressor and a paper cup. He seems very kind and caring. I'm so grateful to know that if he does have a problem we are in the best place to deal with it.

I have been blow away by the support of the people who are surrounding me right now. I am going to be able to attend my grandma's funeral simply because I have friends willing to watch my children at odd and inconvenient times. They are so willing to help. As I was trying to get the schedule all put together it felt as though things just fell right in to place. I know I am inconveniencing people, but they all seemed so happy to help. I sort of feel their love surrounding me right now.

Also, my husband. He normally isn't around to be able to help. Not only does he miraculously not have to work all weekend long, but he has an unheard of Saturday afternoon off and uncluttered. Also, there is just something so great about having someone you can totally lose it with who will hold you as you cry. Who will then hold you some more when you are done and then after that will prop you back up and point you in the direction you need to go. His confidence in me inspires me to be more confident in myself. I feel we are almost invincible together.

Life is hard, but there is help surrounding me and I am grateful for all of it.


***update*** lee's tests came back normal. He has an innocent murmur. When the doctor told me that I was so relieved and then so exhausted. Crazy how much stress takes out of me.

14 Days

My grandma is dying.  The doctors have said about 14 days, which means to me that she's almost out the door.  Here's the thing though.  I'm not sure how I feel about it.  Or even how I'm "supposed" to feel about her death.

My grandma is an amazing woman and has been planning on her own death for quite some time now.  Not in a suicidal way though. It almost seemed very matter of fact. I think she's been telling my husband and I that she's going to be "dead in a year" since Dan met her nine years ago.  She has survived two husbands and a daughter passing away before her.  Her own father died when she was quite young and her mother died when I was in middle or high school.  I remember my great grandma's funeral because it was the first one I had ever been to.  My grandma has always seemed anxious to go be with all of her loved ones.

The kink in her plan was that she was physically robust.  She went out to get her hair and nails done.  She drove a sports car.  She dug up her lawn to replace her own sprinklers. She was so lonely, but she still had so much life to live. She also had great joy in her loved ones here.  A story that will live in the memory of all of us is the time that she started a water fight in her back yard with my little Charlotte that dragged everyone in.  Water was everywhere and grandma was the one who started it. She liked to laugh.

I remember a series of one day excursions during my last year at college in Utah I spent with just her.  My memories of my grandma are usually filled to the brim with all sorts of family around.  We never lived in the same state so holidays were our chance to see her.  Our chance and everyone else in the family's too.  We are a loud and mostly crazy bunch of people so this one season of quiet sticks out in my mind.  Grandma and I spent that time talking.  Or rather she spent the time talking and I spent it listening and asking questions and being amazed that I was 20 and had no idea who my grandma was.  I learned about my grandma during those days-I discovered who she was beyond mom and grandma. I listened to stories about her childhood and how she met my grandpa, that I never knew. After a while she dug out this metal bread box that was dented and inside was a treasure trove of photos.  When I saw it I felt like she had shown me our family jewels. She showed me the photos and told me story after story about them.  Then we drove around the city and she showed me the physical places where the stories had happened.  The place she grew up, the place she got in a car accident.  It all looked different, even unrecognizable at that point, but it was there. I never knew any of it before.  I wonder where that bread box of photos is now? That's the family treasure I'd love to have.  Though of course I have no claim on any of it.

It isn't in her house anymore.  I know that, because she isn't there either.  She sold her house or gave it to one of her, oh what's the word for it, step grandsons? Anyway the house, the cozy, strange little house with an entire wall of mirrors isn't hers anymore.  She lives in an assisted living facility and all of her things were either sold or put into storage.

She has dementia. It seems strange to be able to use a single word to sum up the loss of who she is and what she remembers. Dementia.  Its like the lost box of photos from her house matches the lost bunch of memories in her head. She also isn't physically robust either. Hospice has been called for her. She forgets to eat. She's in pain and she doesn't get out of bed.  When she does get out of bed she falls.  At least she hasn't broken a hip.  Dan has told me enough about people with broken hips for me to know that if she did it would kill her in the most horribly painful way.

So I think maybe I should be glad for her. This is what she has been promising us is going to happen for so long.  She wants it and her body seems to finally be ready to give it to her.  So maybe glad?  But also very, very sad. In a way I realized last Christmas when I saw her that I had already lost her.  She recognized me maybe, but not Dan and certainly not my kids. It seems so strange to have had so much time to mentally prepare for this coming and to still, still not be ready for it. But I'm not.

A Story Dan Didn't Think Needed to be Told to His Parents

Dan calls his parents once a week.  Every Sunday night he calls them to check in.  He is truly faithful about this.  He usually remembers after we are both in bed.  Then he has to get up to find my phone, which is who knows where. He wont use his if he can avoid it so he has to search for mine. Too bad for him that I never know where it is right then. It is Sunday after all.  Entire life schedules change on Sunday.  Plus also I always put my phone on silent at church and then mostly forget to turn it back on again.  So that's why nobody can get a hold of me on Sunday afternoons.  But anyway, we are already tucked beneath the sheets and he turns to me and asks where my phone is.  I tell him to check the van.  Mostly I think that its funny to make him go out there, but probably that's where I left it after driving home from church.  After he finds my phone I listen to a one sided conversation, which I'm not allowed to interject in.  After that Dan gives me the rundown on family news.

This happens once a week.  Every week.

Sometimes Dan doesn't tell the same stories I would tell about our week.  For example he didn't tell his parents about what happened at church yesterday. We were listening to talks and Lee was being crazy because he had gotten up late and had little breakfast.  I figured not a big deal, I would just pack something for him to eat in the foyer.  I forgot.  He was crazy.  Screaming to go to the foyer then crying for Daddy back in the chapel.  I had brought him back in to the chapel the third time.  As he sat on the floor I noticed a small yellow leaf on the ground.  It is the compound type of leaf that grow in tiny rows that we have on the trees in our church parking lot.  They have already turned a lovely eye catching yellow. In an attempt to keep him quiet and still for the talk on reverence in our worship I put the small leaf on his nose.  He was enthralled that it just sat there and so did he.  For quite some time.  But then it fell as leaves are wont to do.  He quickly picked it up to put it back in place, but missed.  He shoved the thing right up his nose.  Further than even his fingers could reach. So Dan had to leave church and take him home to extract the leaf.  After church every time someone looked at him he would shove his little finger up there to tell us about his exciting adventure. I'm still not convinced he got it out since Dan says he never actually saw the leaf.  It was small, but not small enough to miss. My thought on this is that at least it is a leaf and not an eraser or something that could stay there for decades.  A leaf might somehow get goopy and slip out later.

The End.

On being a Red Head

Being a red head was a defining characteristic for me for as long as I can remember.  I came into the world with a bright orange head and I've been getting complements and comments on it ever since.  I remember looking at those hospital photos of me where they are printed photo booth style.  You know four tiny prints vertical in a line and my head is covered with orange fuzz.  It has made me stand out in a crowd for the good and bad.  It has always felt like my personality is interlaced with my hair color.  Red, fierce, blazing, tempered.  But also awkward, speckled, and sometimes goofy.

Growing up I always, always got, "Red hair!  Where did you get that red hair?" Sometimes it was "that beautiful red hair" but always the question on where it came from.  Like somehow as a small child I was supposed to be able to explain to adults the facts of hereditary traits.  There is no good answer for a six year old to give to an adult asking this question. Sometimes we adults ask stupid questions.

I hope my sister doesn't mind me posting this photo of her.
I just thought it showed her pretty red hair off well.

Now I'm always, always asked, "You have children? No redheads then?" As if I keep my red headed child at home.  This is also a statement that irks me.  I don't want my children always hearing this same phrase as if they aren't perfect exactly the way they are. As if golden blonde/brown isn't absolutely how they, my children, should look.  As if I'm somehow holding out hope that I will be blessed with that one special child that one red head.  As if all my children aren't special to me.

And while we're on the topic of things that are mildly annoying, though really mean absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things, I also don't like the sentiment, "You have such a beautiful red color." And some people go so far as to include, "Some of the red hair colors, like that bright orange color, aren't as attractive." Hidden (and not so hidden) in this complicated compliment, is the implication that the bright orange/red hair color is definitely not desirable.  It's only when red hair turns to a darker brown tint that it is becoming.  Frustrating for a few reasons: 1)I was born orange/red and had orange/red as a small one and 2) if a person is talking to a redhead, chances are that redhead knows and is probably related to another red head, who just might have orange/red hair.  So now the person has said something unkind about someone I know and probably love.

Hmm, this post was a little hijacked by rants.  I started out with an entirely different idea in mind, but I like this so I'm keeping it.

First Grade Problems

First grade is hard on a mother.  At least it has been a rocky sort of roller coaster ride I was completely unprepared for.  Charlotte is doing great and I'm pretty sure she loves it.  She is being challenged academically at school and loves it.  School is a strong suit for her so even though there is work to do it doesn't feel overwhelming.

What feels overwhelming are the tiny social lessons she is learning as a first grade girl. They are not earth shattering and they are things that everyone needs to learn growing up, but man oh man does it make my momma heart ache to see her go through them. The problem is really that she's still my little girl, but neither she nor anyone else sees it this way. So when these things come up I feel blindsided and unsure how to handle them. To what extent do I even do anything at all?

I love her. I love her teacher. I love her friends. First grade is just a challenge.

Skills for boys

I haven't posted much because of life with a toddler. I trust you know what I mean. I don't want to complain because he is an amazing toddler, but these days seem to be requiring more patience from me than I know how to give.  Mostly my plan is to be home with him awake as little as possible. Is that a good parenting strategy? I have no idea.

One challenge is that Greg is to the age where he is delightful to be around if you can pay attention to him.  And by delightful I mean he's funny and informed and says great stuff and can concentrate on projects and talks to you about things that are on topic. If you can't pay attention to him he notices and it hurts him very much.  You can tell when he feels he's being ignored by his subtle tactic of running straight for you and not stopping. I feel like having boys is teaching me about playing sports.  I remember in middle school I was being taught about cutting someone off in basketball.  I was horrible at it and what's more I didn't get it.  Now that I have to try to keep Lee away from all sorts of inappropriate things using just my body at times I've gotten quite good at cutting him off at the pass.

In fact just last Sunday during Stake Conference, which I went to, but find a special sort of torture for the parents of the young. I spent five minutes blocking Lee from escape with nothing but one foot.  He kept climbing over it,  but by the time he stood up my foot was right in front of him again. See blocking.

Also I am good at dodging.  When Greg's kamikaze run starts across the room I have found I'm pretty good at waiting until just the right moment to side step.  Then you put one hand out and direct him to the ground. This is quite effective and sounds a lot like what my daddy probably taught his young football players.  I would know if I had ever paid attention, but I was always too busy with just about anything else. It still shocks me that my sister and I spent so much time in our childhood around football and I did not glean much from it.

Ooh, now I'm on a roll with this theme.  You know what else I've become good at. Diapering a toddler that doesn't want it.  They are squirmy and strong and they kick.  I feel like I'm wrestling a pig. Surely my skills in this arena could translate to some sport, but again I am showing my lack of knowledge because I have no idea what sport that would be.

A post about chores

Yesterday I spent the day starting the switch over from summer to winter. I put this off because it mostly involves a lot of climbing the ladder to our attic.  The ladder is too short. So once you get the box up there you have to do a gymnastic move to hoist yourself in every single time.  Plus also going into the attic is dangerous when there isn't another adult around.

That reminds me of the time I had to go into the attic recently.  Lee was playing in the garage with a big bag of flashlights so I figured I had a few seconds and if I made it quick I'd be ok.  I was up there I swear for thirty seconds and when I turned to go down Lee had climbed to the top of the ladder and was stuck.  I mean the very top too. I was stuck in the attic because the top of the ladder is the landing spot for the gymnastics you have to do to get down from the attic.  I was up there thinking when Lee started to try to get himself down from the ladder. Terrifying.  Scary enough that I had the motivation to lower myself with the strength of my arms inch by inch around Lee and get my footing without knocking him. Then I carried him down myself.  That child is part monkey.

So despite my monkey boy I figured it was time to start. Plus also Greg was cold and wanted a coat. I started by picking up all the garbage in the back yard.  While I was at it I scooped dog poop up from the back yard. The kids were starting to step in it so I figured there was too much out there.  Hoo boy was that a big task. After that it was time to start shuttling old clothing around. Charlotte and Greg had clothing go into the attic in several different bins and all the outside winter clothing came down was sorted and some went back up. Turns out his coat from last winter is too small, but Sam's club had some on sale later.

It feels so good to do that sort of job for me.  I love to put things in their places.  Probably that's why I don't mind folding and putting laundry away.  It is a special perk though when I do a job like this that is going to stay done.  I'm not going to turn around tomorrow to find out that someone has gotten into the attic and messed with everything. Nobody has that sort of commitment. Or upper body strength.