This morning as Jason and I are laying in bed and talking, as we do on the weekends, I tell him I'm going to sell my maternity clothes. I was figuring on selling all of them except the one shirt I really like and my blue sweater. If I were to become pregnant again, I'd want new things I think. Jason says "don't do that". What??? Come again?
This is why I'm confused. Last night we talked, for the first time all week really, about Where Do We Go From Here. I know I'd love to have another baby. I also know I don't want to do any tests that are "invasive". I also know that no matter what they discover, they can't offer me any guarentees. At the stage that I miscarry, there isn't anything they can do to stop it. So if it is going to happen, it will happen, and that's all there is. They can test my hormone levels more, and they can offer me some extra hormones, but that's about it.
Jason said he wants to think about it. He asked me if I could live through it. Well, yes, I can. Many women have lived through far worse than losing a lot babies early on in their pregnancies. I am a strong woman and I will always continue to be. We also decided that if we were to become pregnant again then we wouldn't be sharing that news until 10 or 12 weeks along. Simply because of when the miscarriages take place, by waiting longer, we won't have all the well intentioned sympathy that is so hard to deal with at times.
Jason told me he was unsure as to whether he wanted to try again. I have already told him that if he does not, we won't. This isn't just about me and what I want, it's both of us. I told him that until he was sure, he needed to make sure that condoms were handy, because by not doing, he was still making a choice.
And then the comment today. I know Jason would love another child as much as I would. He is so afraid of what another miscarriage will do to me. This time around the depression was so very hard. I'm starting to come out of it, I can see that. It's easier to be happy. It will always be there, but it's definately not so overwhelming any more. Which is good and means that I am healing.
I still think that I should sell some of my maternity clothes. I may need a larger size if I were to become pregnant, I highly doubt I'd need a smaller size. I also have no idea what season I would be pregnant in, so maybe i'd need all summer stuff. There is also the added benefit that they would probably sell pretty well on EBay, and I'd make some extra money.
I think I want to continue as though I'm not going to have any more children. That that chapter of my life is done. By doing that it leaves for very little disappointment when I don't become pregnant month after month. It seems to be the sanest way to go. A woman who is not going to be pregnant anymore would sell her maternity clothes. Why not the sweater and the shirt? I really like the sweater and still wear it, and the shirt is so nice that maybe I'll give it to someone. Oh, and there is a dress I made, and I'm not selling that simply because I don't think that it would sell well, being hand made and all.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Where do we go from here?
It's a simple question really, however the answer is not even close. What do we do now? This whole thing is taking it's toll on me. It really and truly is. I know i'm seriously depressed. I'm suffering, and I know my family is suffering as well. It hurts Jason to see me like this.
Being like this makes him wonder if we should even consider trying for another. There are no guarentees after all. He doesn't want me to go through this again, he doesn't want to go through it himself again. Both reasonable and understandable points of view.
Am I ready to be done? To say "that's it, no more"?. I was before we found out we were pregnant. I was really beginning to come to terms with not having any more children. That is why I was so shocked to see that positive test. I couldn't believe that that was going to take place. I should have suspected, and in all honesty I did suspect, that it wouldn't be as it advertised.
I don't remember it hurting like this in June. I had so much anger at that stupid nurse though. Maybe that helped vent it all, I don't really know. Right now I hurt. It's all I do know. I am in no way a functioning person. Oh sure I go through the motions, but I'm on autopilot, doing anything that requires even a little bit of thought just seems to be beyond my ability right now.
Jason is trying so hard to be there for me right now. To be loving and caring and supportive. This is all so hard for him too. And I feel so horrible to put him through this again. To have him suffer because I suffer. I am trying so hard to make it better, to heal, but it's just not happening. It's out of reach for me.
I love my children, I love my life, I love my husband. I know those are truths. But they seem to be figmants that I just made up to get me through this horrible place. Being actually sick on top of it all definately does not help.
When will the ache be less? When will I be able to do more than function? When will I have healed?
The next question that comes up is should I do the testing? Do I really want to know? After all, we DO have Izzy, so something has got to work between us. And I have been pregnant 4 times, so it seems that Jason isn't at fault, it's me, or it's the combination of the two of us. Are those questions that I want the answers to? That all leads me back to the beginning, where do we go from here? Are we done, or do we continue? And if we continue, what answers do we seek, if any at all?
Being like this makes him wonder if we should even consider trying for another. There are no guarentees after all. He doesn't want me to go through this again, he doesn't want to go through it himself again. Both reasonable and understandable points of view.
Am I ready to be done? To say "that's it, no more"?. I was before we found out we were pregnant. I was really beginning to come to terms with not having any more children. That is why I was so shocked to see that positive test. I couldn't believe that that was going to take place. I should have suspected, and in all honesty I did suspect, that it wouldn't be as it advertised.
I don't remember it hurting like this in June. I had so much anger at that stupid nurse though. Maybe that helped vent it all, I don't really know. Right now I hurt. It's all I do know. I am in no way a functioning person. Oh sure I go through the motions, but I'm on autopilot, doing anything that requires even a little bit of thought just seems to be beyond my ability right now.
Jason is trying so hard to be there for me right now. To be loving and caring and supportive. This is all so hard for him too. And I feel so horrible to put him through this again. To have him suffer because I suffer. I am trying so hard to make it better, to heal, but it's just not happening. It's out of reach for me.
I love my children, I love my life, I love my husband. I know those are truths. But they seem to be figmants that I just made up to get me through this horrible place. Being actually sick on top of it all definately does not help.
When will the ache be less? When will I be able to do more than function? When will I have healed?
The next question that comes up is should I do the testing? Do I really want to know? After all, we DO have Izzy, so something has got to work between us. And I have been pregnant 4 times, so it seems that Jason isn't at fault, it's me, or it's the combination of the two of us. Are those questions that I want the answers to? That all leads me back to the beginning, where do we go from here? Are we done, or do we continue? And if we continue, what answers do we seek, if any at all?
Thursday, December 13, 2007
The Thing About Change.
The thing about change is that it sucks. It's hard and horrible and it hurts and it just all around sucks. However, everyone has to have change. And that part makes it suck even more because you know that at some point in the future, at many points in the future, you will have to endure the change.
Many of us get stuck in a rut. It's comfortable in the rut. And if it's not really comfortable, it's familiar. And familiar is good. It's reassuring. However, as I have come to discover, that rut is damaging. It's self damaging. It damages your relationships. It's a hindrance and an inhibition. "I can't leave the rut, it is safe and familiar" is the mantra of the time.
One day, you wake up and you realize you've come to a place where you've packed on 40 or 50 pounds, you're sitting in front of the computer doing absolutely nothing worthwhile (is playing that video game really that fulfilling?), and your children completely trash your house. And all the while you think "why worry about, they'll just do it over again." or even "someone else will clean it, why should I bother".
Well, today that person is me. Replace all the you's with I's and you have where I have been for so long. Why am I in this place? Why am I so willing to stay?
I'll admit, it is so much easier to allow someone else to do all the work. We started out pretty equal. But now, I don't do much of anything. How is that? Why is that? Yes, I let him do it. I just slowly stopped doing, and he started doing more. And when I saw he was doing more, it was really easy to let him keep on going that way.
So today I have to face change. This time it is not being thrust upon me by some outside source. This time, the only one I have to complain to about the pain and misgivings of change is myself. After all, I wouldn't need to be in the place of change if I hadn't decided that the rut was a good place to be.
This change will come about slowly, don't expect me to be a domestic goddess overnight. However it HAS to come about, there is no putting it off any longer. If I am to get what I want to have out of this life, out of this relationship, then I need to step up to the plate and do my part.
Unfortunately, I'll be doing it reluctantly. I don't like work and effort. I'd rather sit here and play that video game. However as that is not an option, as my house is falling in to shambles around me, as my toddler runs rampant, the change is calling to me, begging me to get off my fat ass and do something about it all. And so I must.
And that is what I am going to go do, starting with catching that rampant toddler and making him a little more presentable to the world. After all, pj's are meant for sleeping in bed, not to be worn all day too.
Many of us get stuck in a rut. It's comfortable in the rut. And if it's not really comfortable, it's familiar. And familiar is good. It's reassuring. However, as I have come to discover, that rut is damaging. It's self damaging. It damages your relationships. It's a hindrance and an inhibition. "I can't leave the rut, it is safe and familiar" is the mantra of the time.
One day, you wake up and you realize you've come to a place where you've packed on 40 or 50 pounds, you're sitting in front of the computer doing absolutely nothing worthwhile (is playing that video game really that fulfilling?), and your children completely trash your house. And all the while you think "why worry about, they'll just do it over again." or even "someone else will clean it, why should I bother".
Well, today that person is me. Replace all the you's with I's and you have where I have been for so long. Why am I in this place? Why am I so willing to stay?
I'll admit, it is so much easier to allow someone else to do all the work. We started out pretty equal. But now, I don't do much of anything. How is that? Why is that? Yes, I let him do it. I just slowly stopped doing, and he started doing more. And when I saw he was doing more, it was really easy to let him keep on going that way.
So today I have to face change. This time it is not being thrust upon me by some outside source. This time, the only one I have to complain to about the pain and misgivings of change is myself. After all, I wouldn't need to be in the place of change if I hadn't decided that the rut was a good place to be.
This change will come about slowly, don't expect me to be a domestic goddess overnight. However it HAS to come about, there is no putting it off any longer. If I am to get what I want to have out of this life, out of this relationship, then I need to step up to the plate and do my part.
Unfortunately, I'll be doing it reluctantly. I don't like work and effort. I'd rather sit here and play that video game. However as that is not an option, as my house is falling in to shambles around me, as my toddler runs rampant, the change is calling to me, begging me to get off my fat ass and do something about it all. And so I must.
And that is what I am going to go do, starting with catching that rampant toddler and making him a little more presentable to the world. After all, pj's are meant for sleeping in bed, not to be worn all day too.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
The Deepest Darkest Blue
The deepest darkest blue seems to suit my mood right now. The baby is gone. I don't need a blood test tomorrow to confirm it, I'm living it right now. Having done this before, I know where I am, this is a place that I've been to before that I'd rather not visit.
It all started last Thursday evening. I helped Jason move the furniture in the girls' room so that I could work on getting the rest of it painted before Katy comes for the holidays. I didn't really move much at all, just the two beds, with his assistance. He moved the dressers all on his own. I started spotting. As I have been exactly where I am now, it worried me. So on Friday morning when it continued, I called the mid-wives. They ordered a blood draw for me, though they felt it was more for my peace of mind than any real neccessity. However when I arrived at the lab on Friday afternoon, no one was there. Apparently they all got Friday off early.
I worked all weekend, though oddly enough I had Friday night off. The spotting continued, gradually working up to being like a light period. I went for the draw yesterday afternoon. The numbers were 457. Definately not as high as they would normally like, especially being as far as I was, however up is good. So they tell me to come back on Wednesday. At work, I start bleeding and clotting. And here I am, in all too familiar territory again.
The Platitudes. Those are the worst.
"God won't give you more than you can handle. You can handle this." Well no shit Sherlock, I've "handled" it before, of coarse I can again.
"It's God's way". Who the fuck cares if it's "God's way"? I mean, really, what the Hell did I do to piss off "God" so much that "He" would have "His" way with me?
"It's the natural way of weeding out ones that would suffer." And you think I'm NOT suffering? Do you think that this pain and anguish that I feel isn't suffering? Can I shove your head in a tub of water and hold it under and then tell you that the pain you feel when your lungs start constricting and your vision starts to blacken isn't suffering?
"Cherish the children you have, they just mean that much more to you now." First off, how do you know that? Who are you to tell me how much my children mean to me? What suddenly makes this baby that no longer is less? What is it about the passing of this oh so desired child that suddenly makes my other children more? How does this even make sense? Secondly, who am I to put this kind of suffering and grief on my children? Do you think that they don't see, that they don't feel, that they don't understand what I am feeling? Are you really that assinine? Or did just plain stupidity hit you in the head when you woke up this morning?
Yes, I'm angry. By the way, that's actually ANGRY. Pissed off beyond all belief. Though I think that the anger is what gets me through. Cause other than the anger is the unbelieveable hurt and pain. It's so easy to just sit and wallow in the pain. To feel it wash over you in wave after wave. I think it's addicting, that pain. After all, that pain is justification. It's the reason for not doing, for not being. "I can't because I hurt" becomes the mantra.
That mantra is not mine to be able to take up. Because "I can't" just is not an option. Who would care for Izzy all day if "I can't"? Who would get the kids up for school and out the door if "I can't"? Who would do all the other myraid of stuff that I do if "I can't"?
The pain will ease as time goes by. It's amazing how time soothes all wounds. I don't think it really heals them. Your wounds are yours alone to heal. You can allow them fester and become putrid horrid things. Or you can allow them to heal and create scars that are shiny smooth reminders of where you once were. I know that in a month or so, this wound will be well on it's way to healing. The pain will be remembered, but not so fresh and raw. That is soothing and refreshing a bit because right now I am in the pain and it will help me get through.
Jason told me as he was leaving for work this morning "Don't give up completely, you are too strong for that." I know he meant about having another child. Our heart's desire is to have another child. A playmate for Izzy closer in age. Maybe a little girl to dress all frilly and cute, and Izzy to be oh so protective of. Maybe a boy for him to have as his wrestling foe and partner in crime.
We've wanted this for so long. 16 months of wanting and all we have to show for it is more anguish and hurt. More suffering and pain. More tears and even more fear than before.
I have been told that all I have to do is pray and accept and I will receive my heart's desires. What kind of bullshit is that? Is that what gets you through all the shitty stuff in life? Whatever works for you is great, but trust me, that won't work for me. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, stop crying and go forward. That's what I've always done. It's all there really is to do.
Part of me, ill-rationally I'll admit but still happening, feels as though I am failing my husband. After all, here is a man that loves me with his entire being. He goes to work every day to help support me and my children, only one of which is his by birth. He has accepted me and my children and my entire life as his. And here I am, unable to provide him children. Izzy is an amazing wonder. I love that boy dearly. Apparently, he is also a miracle. My husband has no problem impregnanting me, it's happened 4 times now. However, I have a problem growing his children.
Jason is the one who is strong while I grieve. While I wallow in my pain. While I scream and cry and am wracked with absolute sorrow. He holds me close, and then closer still while I lay there, barely even able to acknowledge him. I know he feels the hurt and the pain, however he sets that all aside for me. If I ever am in need of a hero, he'd be it.
Right now, I'm just writing to write. Maybe it will be cathartic. What exactly is "cathartic" anyway? I don't know, but it seems eloquent and so appropriate. Maybe I'll start a new blog. One to write just to write. Short stories and the like. But then I think, why can't I do that here? After all, this is my blog after all, why does it solely have to be about the family? I don't know, I'm at a loss right now, and the writing is soothing. That's what I do know. And as Forrest Gump likes to say "And that's all I've got to say about that".
It all started last Thursday evening. I helped Jason move the furniture in the girls' room so that I could work on getting the rest of it painted before Katy comes for the holidays. I didn't really move much at all, just the two beds, with his assistance. He moved the dressers all on his own. I started spotting. As I have been exactly where I am now, it worried me. So on Friday morning when it continued, I called the mid-wives. They ordered a blood draw for me, though they felt it was more for my peace of mind than any real neccessity. However when I arrived at the lab on Friday afternoon, no one was there. Apparently they all got Friday off early.
I worked all weekend, though oddly enough I had Friday night off. The spotting continued, gradually working up to being like a light period. I went for the draw yesterday afternoon. The numbers were 457. Definately not as high as they would normally like, especially being as far as I was, however up is good. So they tell me to come back on Wednesday. At work, I start bleeding and clotting. And here I am, in all too familiar territory again.
The Platitudes. Those are the worst.
"God won't give you more than you can handle. You can handle this." Well no shit Sherlock, I've "handled" it before, of coarse I can again.
"It's God's way". Who the fuck cares if it's "God's way"? I mean, really, what the Hell did I do to piss off "God" so much that "He" would have "His" way with me?
"It's the natural way of weeding out ones that would suffer." And you think I'm NOT suffering? Do you think that this pain and anguish that I feel isn't suffering? Can I shove your head in a tub of water and hold it under and then tell you that the pain you feel when your lungs start constricting and your vision starts to blacken isn't suffering?
"Cherish the children you have, they just mean that much more to you now." First off, how do you know that? Who are you to tell me how much my children mean to me? What suddenly makes this baby that no longer is less? What is it about the passing of this oh so desired child that suddenly makes my other children more? How does this even make sense? Secondly, who am I to put this kind of suffering and grief on my children? Do you think that they don't see, that they don't feel, that they don't understand what I am feeling? Are you really that assinine? Or did just plain stupidity hit you in the head when you woke up this morning?
Yes, I'm angry. By the way, that's actually ANGRY. Pissed off beyond all belief. Though I think that the anger is what gets me through. Cause other than the anger is the unbelieveable hurt and pain. It's so easy to just sit and wallow in the pain. To feel it wash over you in wave after wave. I think it's addicting, that pain. After all, that pain is justification. It's the reason for not doing, for not being. "I can't because I hurt" becomes the mantra.
That mantra is not mine to be able to take up. Because "I can't" just is not an option. Who would care for Izzy all day if "I can't"? Who would get the kids up for school and out the door if "I can't"? Who would do all the other myraid of stuff that I do if "I can't"?
The pain will ease as time goes by. It's amazing how time soothes all wounds. I don't think it really heals them. Your wounds are yours alone to heal. You can allow them fester and become putrid horrid things. Or you can allow them to heal and create scars that are shiny smooth reminders of where you once were. I know that in a month or so, this wound will be well on it's way to healing. The pain will be remembered, but not so fresh and raw. That is soothing and refreshing a bit because right now I am in the pain and it will help me get through.
Jason told me as he was leaving for work this morning "Don't give up completely, you are too strong for that." I know he meant about having another child. Our heart's desire is to have another child. A playmate for Izzy closer in age. Maybe a little girl to dress all frilly and cute, and Izzy to be oh so protective of. Maybe a boy for him to have as his wrestling foe and partner in crime.
We've wanted this for so long. 16 months of wanting and all we have to show for it is more anguish and hurt. More suffering and pain. More tears and even more fear than before.
I have been told that all I have to do is pray and accept and I will receive my heart's desires. What kind of bullshit is that? Is that what gets you through all the shitty stuff in life? Whatever works for you is great, but trust me, that won't work for me. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, stop crying and go forward. That's what I've always done. It's all there really is to do.
Part of me, ill-rationally I'll admit but still happening, feels as though I am failing my husband. After all, here is a man that loves me with his entire being. He goes to work every day to help support me and my children, only one of which is his by birth. He has accepted me and my children and my entire life as his. And here I am, unable to provide him children. Izzy is an amazing wonder. I love that boy dearly. Apparently, he is also a miracle. My husband has no problem impregnanting me, it's happened 4 times now. However, I have a problem growing his children.
Jason is the one who is strong while I grieve. While I wallow in my pain. While I scream and cry and am wracked with absolute sorrow. He holds me close, and then closer still while I lay there, barely even able to acknowledge him. I know he feels the hurt and the pain, however he sets that all aside for me. If I ever am in need of a hero, he'd be it.
Right now, I'm just writing to write. Maybe it will be cathartic. What exactly is "cathartic" anyway? I don't know, but it seems eloquent and so appropriate. Maybe I'll start a new blog. One to write just to write. Short stories and the like. But then I think, why can't I do that here? After all, this is my blog after all, why does it solely have to be about the family? I don't know, I'm at a loss right now, and the writing is soothing. That's what I do know. And as Forrest Gump likes to say "And that's all I've got to say about that".
Thursday, November 29, 2007
It's Official, We ARE Insane!
Well, this morning we got the final confirmation, we will be expecting a darling new baby around the middle of August of 2008. Welcome to the Wonderful World of Insanity, and I am your host, Queen of Know It Alls, Jamie.
It came as a shock to all of us. We had taken off that hat. Set it aside. Decided that we would admire it every now and then, however we weren't going to wear it anymore. It was now time to move on to Parents of Older Kids. We talked and talked and had just come to accept that A New Baby wasn't going to happen for us. We had a wonderful family just the way it was. Izzy is a great guy to leave that final note on.
Why did I even have the notion to test, to just "see" if possibly maybe it would come back positive. There was ONE test sitting in the cupboard, it begged me to be used, so I did. I honestly expected to see that singular pink line just staring up at me on that white field, mocking my tiny hope that maybe, just maybe, my darling hubby's spermmies worked with my eggies that month. To my utter shock and amazement, a faint extra pink line was there. Was I seeing things? Could it be?
Just to be sure I wasn't just projecting my hope and hurt on to this tiny defenseless little test, i scanned it in, after taking it apart of coarse (which they say you shouldn't do, however there was no way to take a good pic of it otherwise) and showed to my online friends. Many of them said "Yes, I see it too!!!" So I called up those mid-wives and said "Hey, take my blood" and of coarse they said "Glad to!"
That was the day before Thanksgiving. I was getting the van on Jason's lunch so I could drive up to get Katy Beth and actually be back at a decent hour. Before heading up, I had my blood taken. When I got to Jenn's place, I called them and they said "You are Borderline pregnant, we are closed on Friday, so come back on Monday so we can take your blood again" How you can be borderline pregnant on a yes/no test is beyond me, however that's what they told me.
Me being me, I bought a box of tests. After all, borderline just wasn't a good enough answer. So I tested again on Friday morning and on Sunday morning. They both came up with much darker lines. All right! That's the kind of progression I like to see! With the last miscarriage, I never really got a dark line on a pee test, so it was reassuring to see that line. Throughout the weekend, I kept looking at those tests, making sure I wasn't seeing things.
Monday rolls around. It is slushing from the sky as only Michigan can. I was going to wait to go until Jason got home, so I could run over there real quick before heading off to work. I had to go to the library anyway to return some books that I didn't want to become even more overdue, so I decided to walk, in the nasty slushiness to the hospital, which is about a mile from here. Izzy was protected from the weather in his stroller with the rain cover on it. I didn't fair so lucky. Note to self, next time I go a-walkin' in foul weather, wear shoes that don't have holes. Something with a closed foot would be a much better choice than my crocs.
I make it to the hospital in wonderful time, and back home again. Izzy goes down for a nap, I dry off and spend some time on the computer. I call for my results around 4. They tell me that Yes, I am pregnant, however my number is only 68, and for being 5 weeks pregnant, as their charts say I am, that number isn't high enough, so I have to go back, AGAIN.
On Wednesday, I just waited until Jason got home, and ran over there real quick like and had it done. Called them this morning. After two hours of waiting, they call me back and say my numbers are now 145, which is a little more than double and a good good thing. Therefore, I am officially pregnant, 4 weeks to be exact. Based on my hormone levels, they changed my due date to something more accurate. Maybe this time around I won't have to be induced or go too far over the due date. However, the misery of being 9 months pregnant in August is going to be abject and complete. And I will do it gladly.
It came as a shock to all of us. We had taken off that hat. Set it aside. Decided that we would admire it every now and then, however we weren't going to wear it anymore. It was now time to move on to Parents of Older Kids. We talked and talked and had just come to accept that A New Baby wasn't going to happen for us. We had a wonderful family just the way it was. Izzy is a great guy to leave that final note on.
Why did I even have the notion to test, to just "see" if possibly maybe it would come back positive. There was ONE test sitting in the cupboard, it begged me to be used, so I did. I honestly expected to see that singular pink line just staring up at me on that white field, mocking my tiny hope that maybe, just maybe, my darling hubby's spermmies worked with my eggies that month. To my utter shock and amazement, a faint extra pink line was there. Was I seeing things? Could it be?
Just to be sure I wasn't just projecting my hope and hurt on to this tiny defenseless little test, i scanned it in, after taking it apart of coarse (which they say you shouldn't do, however there was no way to take a good pic of it otherwise) and showed to my online friends. Many of them said "Yes, I see it too!!!" So I called up those mid-wives and said "Hey, take my blood" and of coarse they said "Glad to!"
That was the day before Thanksgiving. I was getting the van on Jason's lunch so I could drive up to get Katy Beth and actually be back at a decent hour. Before heading up, I had my blood taken. When I got to Jenn's place, I called them and they said "You are Borderline pregnant, we are closed on Friday, so come back on Monday so we can take your blood again" How you can be borderline pregnant on a yes/no test is beyond me, however that's what they told me.
Me being me, I bought a box of tests. After all, borderline just wasn't a good enough answer. So I tested again on Friday morning and on Sunday morning. They both came up with much darker lines. All right! That's the kind of progression I like to see! With the last miscarriage, I never really got a dark line on a pee test, so it was reassuring to see that line. Throughout the weekend, I kept looking at those tests, making sure I wasn't seeing things.
Monday rolls around. It is slushing from the sky as only Michigan can. I was going to wait to go until Jason got home, so I could run over there real quick before heading off to work. I had to go to the library anyway to return some books that I didn't want to become even more overdue, so I decided to walk, in the nasty slushiness to the hospital, which is about a mile from here. Izzy was protected from the weather in his stroller with the rain cover on it. I didn't fair so lucky. Note to self, next time I go a-walkin' in foul weather, wear shoes that don't have holes. Something with a closed foot would be a much better choice than my crocs.
I make it to the hospital in wonderful time, and back home again. Izzy goes down for a nap, I dry off and spend some time on the computer. I call for my results around 4. They tell me that Yes, I am pregnant, however my number is only 68, and for being 5 weeks pregnant, as their charts say I am, that number isn't high enough, so I have to go back, AGAIN.
On Wednesday, I just waited until Jason got home, and ran over there real quick like and had it done. Called them this morning. After two hours of waiting, they call me back and say my numbers are now 145, which is a little more than double and a good good thing. Therefore, I am officially pregnant, 4 weeks to be exact. Based on my hormone levels, they changed my due date to something more accurate. Maybe this time around I won't have to be induced or go too far over the due date. However, the misery of being 9 months pregnant in August is going to be abject and complete. And I will do it gladly.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Just a quick jot
Just a quick jot before I head off to the shower and then to slumberland. I must work again at Wal-Mart (the Devil Store as my darling Sister-in-Law calls it) and today was long and tiring, and I know tomorrow will be a repeat of the same. We now have lights on our Christmas tree, or Solstice tree, or Pagan tree, however you want to view it. No decorations yet, except the star at the top. Yes, I have a star at the top. And No, it's not representative of the North Star that the Sheephearders saw upon the Birth of Christ. Yes, I do capitalize all of that, seems disrespectful to a religion not mine to do so, I would ask the same from them.
Anyhoo, we have lights. That's what I did tonight. I brought home for dinner a big deli pizza (fresh pizza, bake in the oven) and watched "Forrest Gump" and put lights up on the tree. Why so early for the tree? Because if I think THIS weekend has been busy and tiring at Wal-Mart, just wait til NEXT!
Oh, Jason and I realized tonight that Izzy loves to walk. He's only been walking for about 2 months now, though it seems like he's been doing it forever. He's very close to running, and Gods help us all when that happens!
Jason has started the budget for when he takes over at the New Year. Already? Seems like he's trying to jump the gun here, getting a bit anxious, chomping at the bit as they say. He asked me if I really felt that he'd be angry at me? Um, yeah, I do. Though, I've never had anyone be nice about it. And when he was doing it, long ago, it made him angry then, so it seems to stand reason that that would not have changed. I realize only time will tell.
Anyhoo, we have lights. That's what I did tonight. I brought home for dinner a big deli pizza (fresh pizza, bake in the oven) and watched "Forrest Gump" and put lights up on the tree. Why so early for the tree? Because if I think THIS weekend has been busy and tiring at Wal-Mart, just wait til NEXT!
Oh, Jason and I realized tonight that Izzy loves to walk. He's only been walking for about 2 months now, though it seems like he's been doing it forever. He's very close to running, and Gods help us all when that happens!
Jason has started the budget for when he takes over at the New Year. Already? Seems like he's trying to jump the gun here, getting a bit anxious, chomping at the bit as they say. He asked me if I really felt that he'd be angry at me? Um, yeah, I do. Though, I've never had anyone be nice about it. And when he was doing it, long ago, it made him angry then, so it seems to stand reason that that would not have changed. I realize only time will tell.
Friday, November 16, 2007
I have been remiss.
Well, what have I been doing? Oh, not much of anything really. Working 4 days a week at Wal-Mart. Taking care of the kids. Worrying about an ex-mother-in-law who fell down and seriously broke her ankle. Trying to help Jason rediscover his "lost creativity".
Lets start with Wal-Mart. Working there makes me realize there is just way too much commercialism and "give-me-ism" centered around December and the associated holidays. Being Pagan, I don't celebrate Christmas with the sense of the birth of Jesus and what not. We do have a tree. It's a Solstice Tree. I even got for it this really awesome rather "pagan looking" (per Jason's description of it) star. I'll have to post a pic of the tree once it's put up in all it's glory. Anyway, back to commercialism. Why do the carols start the day after Halloween? Why can you purchase Christmas themed items sometimes as early as AUGUST? There are many out there who say "Oh, it's the retailers". Well, yes, it IS the retailers. However, they wouldn't do it if people didn't buy it. After all, they only make money on things that SELL. That means that out there, there are people who actually BUY this stuff that early! WHY????
Working at Wal-Mart has really made me feel the pressure to BUY NOW. I'm a late Holiday shopper. I prefer to do it that way. Wait til the last minute, get great deals. This year, I have purchased more for Holiday gifts before Thanksgiving than I EVER have before! What is wrong with me?
I've also come to realize that as I am awake until the very early hours of the morning anyway - if I make it to bed before 1 A.M. I am either sick or just so tired I can't stay awake any longer - that I might as well be working those hours. After all, the purpose of me working is so that we can find our feet financially, isn't it? How can I honestly be contributing if I'm only working maybe 20 hours a week when Jason busts his butt for the full 40? That's another thing about this season. It really reminds me of how much money I don't have. And it only seems to get worse, never really better.
In my search to find my financial feet, I've discovered that I suck at spending money. I buy lots of stuff we just don't need. I just can't help myself. The common sense thing to do would be to hand my debit card to Jason and let him figure out our debt and money. However, that option literally makes me angry just thinking of it. Why you may ask? In all honesty, just previous bad experience with someone else handling MY money. I feel like handling the money, no matter how badly, at least gives me a sense, no matter how misplaced and useless, of power. So how do I overcome this? By swallowing my ill-placed anger and handing the reins over to Jason as of the first of the year. I really really don't want to do it. I guess we are going to try to do it together, but maybe to begin with, I should just step away from the money. I don't even have to physcially hand him my paycheck, it's direct deposited. Hopefully, I will be able to keep from arguing and fighting with him as he figures out my mess of things. And he stays married to me too. I have a feeling that January (maybe February too) is going to be a long, lonely, and cold cold month for me.
On to raising the kids. They are becoming responsible. When did this happen? Are these really MY kids? Well Hell, I must be doing SOMETHING right after all! There have been a couple of mornings (all right, a few) where I have just kept smacking that HORRID alarm clock and overslept by QUITE A BIT. OOPS. James always comes down and tells me "Mom, we are leaving for school now." What? My James? Getting himself and his sister up and out the door for school? Knock me out and call me Suzy! They ride the bus now, because of James' "issues" he gets a bus ride, and Jayden goes to the same place, so she gets one too, however we are still close enough that they can walk. So on these mornings, they invariably do end up walking. It's not really far, but the fact that they don't just stay upstairs and watching movies instead of going to school still shocks me to no end. Apparently, for my kids, a great threat to get them to go to school and behave is to tell them that if they don't, they will be homeschooled by me. Who knew that school was a mini-daily vacation from me as it is for me from them? Learn something new every day!
Izzy can now say 4 words and one sign. His IEP is at the end of the month. He'll then have a speech therapist and an early education teacher coming to the house to work with him and I. Izzy "swallows" his sounds. It sounds like they are "stuck" in the back of his throat or mouth, that they aren't making it to the tip of his tongue and fully out. He says "eat" now, though it comes out sounding like eeeeeeeeeettttttt with a bit of an "n" sound to it - that whole stuck sound thing again. And he can say "eeeeezzzzzzzyyyyy", though once again it's with that "n" sound. He likes to draw the vowels sounds out, and he LOVES making that "z" sound. I'm glad we went with calling him Izzy, instead of Jason's suggestion of Ike.
Jason wanted to call him Ike after his great (possibly great great?) Uncles. He has two. One was Crazy Ike. I think the other was Lazy Ike. Or something like that. Jason felt that Izzy was too "cute" for a boy. I told him that little boys are only cute so long and I wanted my little boy to be Izzy.
On to the Ex-Mother-In-Law. Her name is Linda. She is Homer's mother. She and I get along "famously", in all honesty, much better than my own mother and I, let alone Jason's mother and I. I think with both of those aforementioned women, we just agree to disagree and try our hardest to be cordial. Linda is a wonder. At the age of 63, she went back to school to study Cosmetology. Why? Well, as she told Jason, it's so she doesn't have to bust butt washing dishes for the rest of her life. This is where I get a little angry. Why does she HAVE to wash dishes? Why aren't her children helping her? Because they are too involved in their own lives, that's why. Jason and I both get along very well with Linda, much to Homer's chagrin. She fell down about a month ago and broker her ankle so badly she needed surgery. She was at work when it happened. She just got her staples out last week. She is getting Workman's Comp to pay her bills, but it barely pays her rent. She was working 2 full time dishwashing jobs at the time she fell. And she was finishing up the last big of her schooling.
She's close to 65 now, if she isn't already there. This is where our worry over her comes in. She lives in Wisconsin, so she could be near her brothers and mother and assorted extended family. They have helped her out during this time not at all. They are always too busy to be able to do anything for her. Even to just drive her somewhere. So she is in a town where her family won't help her, and her children are too self absorbed to notice. I told Homer his mom fell and broke her ankle, after giving him her cell number - he didn't have it- over 3 weeks ago, he STILL has not called her. Jason and I have talked and we feel that she should come live with us. She would help us out a great deal just by being here. I could go in earlier to Wal-Mart. Not to mention, then we would KNOW she is ok and she wouldn't have to bust her butt working 2 jobs dishwashing to make ends meet. It's time for her to relax, enjoy her age and the time she has put in. Now comes the intersting thing, how do we convince her that we need her more than we feel she needs to be here?
And Jason's creativity. Jason is in a funk, it comes and it goes, but this should not be news to anyone really. He feels like he is wasting his life away at his job. Like he isn't "accomplishing" anything, or even really providing well for his family. He has no inspiration to draw or paint. He's in an artist's hell. I don't know how to end it. I don't know how to inspire him. I worry over him. I worry over them all, though I am mom, and that is part of the "mom" job description, it says it in the book we get when we become a mom.
And so I leave you on this note. Enjoy life to the fullest. After all, you could be living with your worst enemy.
Lets start with Wal-Mart. Working there makes me realize there is just way too much commercialism and "give-me-ism" centered around December and the associated holidays. Being Pagan, I don't celebrate Christmas with the sense of the birth of Jesus and what not. We do have a tree. It's a Solstice Tree. I even got for it this really awesome rather "pagan looking" (per Jason's description of it) star. I'll have to post a pic of the tree once it's put up in all it's glory. Anyway, back to commercialism. Why do the carols start the day after Halloween? Why can you purchase Christmas themed items sometimes as early as AUGUST? There are many out there who say "Oh, it's the retailers". Well, yes, it IS the retailers. However, they wouldn't do it if people didn't buy it. After all, they only make money on things that SELL. That means that out there, there are people who actually BUY this stuff that early! WHY????
Working at Wal-Mart has really made me feel the pressure to BUY NOW. I'm a late Holiday shopper. I prefer to do it that way. Wait til the last minute, get great deals. This year, I have purchased more for Holiday gifts before Thanksgiving than I EVER have before! What is wrong with me?
I've also come to realize that as I am awake until the very early hours of the morning anyway - if I make it to bed before 1 A.M. I am either sick or just so tired I can't stay awake any longer - that I might as well be working those hours. After all, the purpose of me working is so that we can find our feet financially, isn't it? How can I honestly be contributing if I'm only working maybe 20 hours a week when Jason busts his butt for the full 40? That's another thing about this season. It really reminds me of how much money I don't have. And it only seems to get worse, never really better.
In my search to find my financial feet, I've discovered that I suck at spending money. I buy lots of stuff we just don't need. I just can't help myself. The common sense thing to do would be to hand my debit card to Jason and let him figure out our debt and money. However, that option literally makes me angry just thinking of it. Why you may ask? In all honesty, just previous bad experience with someone else handling MY money. I feel like handling the money, no matter how badly, at least gives me a sense, no matter how misplaced and useless, of power. So how do I overcome this? By swallowing my ill-placed anger and handing the reins over to Jason as of the first of the year. I really really don't want to do it. I guess we are going to try to do it together, but maybe to begin with, I should just step away from the money. I don't even have to physcially hand him my paycheck, it's direct deposited. Hopefully, I will be able to keep from arguing and fighting with him as he figures out my mess of things. And he stays married to me too. I have a feeling that January (maybe February too) is going to be a long, lonely, and cold cold month for me.
On to raising the kids. They are becoming responsible. When did this happen? Are these really MY kids? Well Hell, I must be doing SOMETHING right after all! There have been a couple of mornings (all right, a few) where I have just kept smacking that HORRID alarm clock and overslept by QUITE A BIT. OOPS. James always comes down and tells me "Mom, we are leaving for school now." What? My James? Getting himself and his sister up and out the door for school? Knock me out and call me Suzy! They ride the bus now, because of James' "issues" he gets a bus ride, and Jayden goes to the same place, so she gets one too, however we are still close enough that they can walk. So on these mornings, they invariably do end up walking. It's not really far, but the fact that they don't just stay upstairs and watching movies instead of going to school still shocks me to no end. Apparently, for my kids, a great threat to get them to go to school and behave is to tell them that if they don't, they will be homeschooled by me. Who knew that school was a mini-daily vacation from me as it is for me from them? Learn something new every day!
Izzy can now say 4 words and one sign. His IEP is at the end of the month. He'll then have a speech therapist and an early education teacher coming to the house to work with him and I. Izzy "swallows" his sounds. It sounds like they are "stuck" in the back of his throat or mouth, that they aren't making it to the tip of his tongue and fully out. He says "eat" now, though it comes out sounding like eeeeeeeeeettttttt with a bit of an "n" sound to it - that whole stuck sound thing again. And he can say "eeeeezzzzzzzyyyyy", though once again it's with that "n" sound. He likes to draw the vowels sounds out, and he LOVES making that "z" sound. I'm glad we went with calling him Izzy, instead of Jason's suggestion of Ike.
Jason wanted to call him Ike after his great (possibly great great?) Uncles. He has two. One was Crazy Ike. I think the other was Lazy Ike. Or something like that. Jason felt that Izzy was too "cute" for a boy. I told him that little boys are only cute so long and I wanted my little boy to be Izzy.
On to the Ex-Mother-In-Law. Her name is Linda. She is Homer's mother. She and I get along "famously", in all honesty, much better than my own mother and I, let alone Jason's mother and I. I think with both of those aforementioned women, we just agree to disagree and try our hardest to be cordial. Linda is a wonder. At the age of 63, she went back to school to study Cosmetology. Why? Well, as she told Jason, it's so she doesn't have to bust butt washing dishes for the rest of her life. This is where I get a little angry. Why does she HAVE to wash dishes? Why aren't her children helping her? Because they are too involved in their own lives, that's why. Jason and I both get along very well with Linda, much to Homer's chagrin. She fell down about a month ago and broker her ankle so badly she needed surgery. She was at work when it happened. She just got her staples out last week. She is getting Workman's Comp to pay her bills, but it barely pays her rent. She was working 2 full time dishwashing jobs at the time she fell. And she was finishing up the last big of her schooling.
She's close to 65 now, if she isn't already there. This is where our worry over her comes in. She lives in Wisconsin, so she could be near her brothers and mother and assorted extended family. They have helped her out during this time not at all. They are always too busy to be able to do anything for her. Even to just drive her somewhere. So she is in a town where her family won't help her, and her children are too self absorbed to notice. I told Homer his mom fell and broke her ankle, after giving him her cell number - he didn't have it- over 3 weeks ago, he STILL has not called her. Jason and I have talked and we feel that she should come live with us. She would help us out a great deal just by being here. I could go in earlier to Wal-Mart. Not to mention, then we would KNOW she is ok and she wouldn't have to bust her butt working 2 jobs dishwashing to make ends meet. It's time for her to relax, enjoy her age and the time she has put in. Now comes the intersting thing, how do we convince her that we need her more than we feel she needs to be here?
And Jason's creativity. Jason is in a funk, it comes and it goes, but this should not be news to anyone really. He feels like he is wasting his life away at his job. Like he isn't "accomplishing" anything, or even really providing well for his family. He has no inspiration to draw or paint. He's in an artist's hell. I don't know how to end it. I don't know how to inspire him. I worry over him. I worry over them all, though I am mom, and that is part of the "mom" job description, it says it in the book we get when we become a mom.
And so I leave you on this note. Enjoy life to the fullest. After all, you could be living with your worst enemy.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
The baby monkey.
There once was a baby monkey. His name was Izzy. He loved to climb on EVERYTHING. Not only did he like to climb, he LOVED to take things OUT. Out of everything. Wipes, books, toys. Out of grocery bags with the nice freshly bought groceries all over the floor. The dirty clothes out of the hamper. The toys out of the bath tub. The candy out of the box. The food off of his tray, I guess that was as close to OUT as he could get. The diapers out of the crate. The crackers out of the box. Well, I think you get the picture. And to the mommy monkey's ever frustration, baby monkey would NEVER put anything IN!
Can you guess how my days have been going? Chasing an 18 month old toddler is like living with a wild monkey. He's CONSTANTLY on the move, taking everything OUT, and just causing general havoc. Cleaning is pointless, or so it seems. After all, he just follows behind and takes it all OUT again. This is my biggest frustration. Why does it all have to come out? Why can't some of it stay in? He has no preference as to what must be out, except that it must be EVERYTHING he comes in contact with. E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G.
Izzy certainly has the muma sound down now. I think he realizes it's a word, a name. He is also vocalizing quite a bit more. Screaming at the top of his lungs in joy as he takes things OUT. He is also trying very hard to run. Run away from me and everything I'm trying to get him to do. Oh, did I mention that when things come out, they are not just placed on the ground...oh no, that would be too neat and orderly, they are THROWN. AS FAR AS POSSIBLE. If you happen to be in the way of said thrown object, watch out, cause it may just hurt.
Izzy has this area on the floor surrounding his high chair that is covered in crumbs and half eaten crackers and fruit bars. It's cleaned daily, however it never stays that way. By the end of the day, it always appears as though we haven't cleaned up after him since he was born. And he is boycotting milk. Just won't drink it anymore. Can you guess what he does with the cup when he gets something he doesn't like, or it's empty? If you guessed THROW IT well you win the grand prize. I don't remember my other children needing to throw things like this. Or to take everything out. Or to make constant messes. He is not content to sit and play, but on the MOVE. I'm beginning to regret that whole teaching him to walk thing. Needless to say, work is a refuge to me, how sad is that?
Can you guess how my days have been going? Chasing an 18 month old toddler is like living with a wild monkey. He's CONSTANTLY on the move, taking everything OUT, and just causing general havoc. Cleaning is pointless, or so it seems. After all, he just follows behind and takes it all OUT again. This is my biggest frustration. Why does it all have to come out? Why can't some of it stay in? He has no preference as to what must be out, except that it must be EVERYTHING he comes in contact with. E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G.
Izzy certainly has the muma sound down now. I think he realizes it's a word, a name. He is also vocalizing quite a bit more. Screaming at the top of his lungs in joy as he takes things OUT. He is also trying very hard to run. Run away from me and everything I'm trying to get him to do. Oh, did I mention that when things come out, they are not just placed on the ground...oh no, that would be too neat and orderly, they are THROWN. AS FAR AS POSSIBLE. If you happen to be in the way of said thrown object, watch out, cause it may just hurt.
Izzy has this area on the floor surrounding his high chair that is covered in crumbs and half eaten crackers and fruit bars. It's cleaned daily, however it never stays that way. By the end of the day, it always appears as though we haven't cleaned up after him since he was born. And he is boycotting milk. Just won't drink it anymore. Can you guess what he does with the cup when he gets something he doesn't like, or it's empty? If you guessed THROW IT well you win the grand prize. I don't remember my other children needing to throw things like this. Or to take everything out. Or to make constant messes. He is not content to sit and play, but on the MOVE. I'm beginning to regret that whole teaching him to walk thing. Needless to say, work is a refuge to me, how sad is that?
Monday, September 24, 2007
Work and Life and Classes of One Kind or Another
So here it is, Monday. I realized today that school is back in swing full force. How did I know this? Wasn't getting up at the atrocious hour of 7 A.M. enough of a clue? Well, I guess not. Tonight the Horde had homework. All of them, even darling kindergardener Jayden. How can you have homework in K you may ask? Well, they sent home a calendar on Thursday (they had no school last Friday) with "suggested" activities to do each night and to send in any projects that resulted from said "suggestions". Also, she brought home 2 worksheets of "reading" exercises that needed a "reading partner" signature, i.e. Me. These sheets were front and back. She's only 5 people, take it easy on her!
James just had one sheet. And I made him read his book. He's reading "Superfudge" by Judy Blume. I don't think I'll be having Jason supervise James' reading time anymore however. James certainly has not been making progress on his book. He doesn't like to read. Jason doesn't pay much attention to if James is actually reading at the time.
Jayden starts her 2 dance classes tomorrow evening. With excellent timing, her ballet shoes came in the mail today. We picked up her tap shoes last week at the dance studio. So 2 classes for her. She LOVES her dance class. Where she will be taking classes is right across the street from the gym that I go to. Once Jayden is in the "swing" of things, I'm going to start dropping her off for class, and head across the street to get in an hour of "me" time!
I went to orientation at Wal-Mart today. It took 4 1/2 hours! We watched videos, and I almost fell asleep. We took a long tour of the store. We did a couple of computer training programs on the computer. As a cashier, I did the Tobacco and Alcohol Sales and Procedures. I scored 100% on both tests. Of coarse I did. I've been in retail, and working at stores that sold both things, long enough to know how to do it! However, I had to do them in order to start work on Friday. Jeez, what have I gotten myself in to? It looks like this weekend, between Friday and Monday I'll be working 25 hours. I'm not working at Denny's anymore. The money just wasn't worth the effort. And Wal-Mart offered me a much better wage.
Life is going as normal. Jason has his initial appointment with the doc who will probably order a sleep study for him. Jason snores horribly, and will have episodes of apnea. Izzy sees Doc. J on Friday morning for his 18 month well child visit. I was about to say well baby, however, my bruiser of a boy isn't much of a baby anymore. At his 15 month visit he was 34 1/2 inches tall and 29 1/2 pounds. He's grown since then, I know because his clothes are smaller!
We went to the Verhage Cider Mill this past Saturday. A good time was definately held by all! I'll make a seperate post of the pics from that outing, and a video of them getting the apple pulp ready for squeezing to make the cider! We went on a hayride, watched them make cider, and fresh doughnuts. Of coarse we had to sample both! MMMM fresh doughnuts and cider, how much more fall could you get? Well, I'll tell ya! In a couple of weeks, we'll be going out to see Gene the Pumpkin Man. This man literally has orange everything, car, barn, house, clothes. He even has a huge cinderella pumpkin coach in his yard!
Unfortunately, I won't be working a Civic show this season. Working is taking a priority this year, working for pay I mean! I love the shows and the people and environment, but we want to buy this house, and in order to do that, we need to clean up our credit. It's not really bad credit, it's just not the greatest.
This blog kind of reminds me of "Prairie Home Companion" and the Letters from Lake Wobegon segment of the show. It's a little snipet of life from my corner of the world. Where things are always chaotic, and wonderful, and amazing. Have a great night everyone, and a pleasent tomorrow.
James just had one sheet. And I made him read his book. He's reading "Superfudge" by Judy Blume. I don't think I'll be having Jason supervise James' reading time anymore however. James certainly has not been making progress on his book. He doesn't like to read. Jason doesn't pay much attention to if James is actually reading at the time.
Jayden starts her 2 dance classes tomorrow evening. With excellent timing, her ballet shoes came in the mail today. We picked up her tap shoes last week at the dance studio. So 2 classes for her. She LOVES her dance class. Where she will be taking classes is right across the street from the gym that I go to. Once Jayden is in the "swing" of things, I'm going to start dropping her off for class, and head across the street to get in an hour of "me" time!
I went to orientation at Wal-Mart today. It took 4 1/2 hours! We watched videos, and I almost fell asleep. We took a long tour of the store. We did a couple of computer training programs on the computer. As a cashier, I did the Tobacco and Alcohol Sales and Procedures. I scored 100% on both tests. Of coarse I did. I've been in retail, and working at stores that sold both things, long enough to know how to do it! However, I had to do them in order to start work on Friday. Jeez, what have I gotten myself in to? It looks like this weekend, between Friday and Monday I'll be working 25 hours. I'm not working at Denny's anymore. The money just wasn't worth the effort. And Wal-Mart offered me a much better wage.
Life is going as normal. Jason has his initial appointment with the doc who will probably order a sleep study for him. Jason snores horribly, and will have episodes of apnea. Izzy sees Doc. J on Friday morning for his 18 month well child visit. I was about to say well baby, however, my bruiser of a boy isn't much of a baby anymore. At his 15 month visit he was 34 1/2 inches tall and 29 1/2 pounds. He's grown since then, I know because his clothes are smaller!
We went to the Verhage Cider Mill this past Saturday. A good time was definately held by all! I'll make a seperate post of the pics from that outing, and a video of them getting the apple pulp ready for squeezing to make the cider! We went on a hayride, watched them make cider, and fresh doughnuts. Of coarse we had to sample both! MMMM fresh doughnuts and cider, how much more fall could you get? Well, I'll tell ya! In a couple of weeks, we'll be going out to see Gene the Pumpkin Man. This man literally has orange everything, car, barn, house, clothes. He even has a huge cinderella pumpkin coach in his yard!
Unfortunately, I won't be working a Civic show this season. Working is taking a priority this year, working for pay I mean! I love the shows and the people and environment, but we want to buy this house, and in order to do that, we need to clean up our credit. It's not really bad credit, it's just not the greatest.
This blog kind of reminds me of "Prairie Home Companion" and the Letters from Lake Wobegon segment of the show. It's a little snipet of life from my corner of the world. Where things are always chaotic, and wonderful, and amazing. Have a great night everyone, and a pleasent tomorrow.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
A little of this, a little of that
I got to thinking the other day. Well, more accurately, a post on a message board got me to thinking. My son James. He's got "issues" as we call them around here. That's stating it mildly. James is currently taking 4 different medications for various things. Odds are that after he sees the Pediatric Endocrinologist in October, there will be another. New things just keep cropping up with him.
James is a highly special needs child. Appearences are very deceiving when it comes to him. Aside from the fact that he is VERY small for his age, about the size of a "typical" 5 year old and he's almost 9, there is nothing about his outward appearence to make one stop and say "that child is special". He is very smart for his age. He can be very charismatic and charming.
James has a list. And the list keeps getting longer and longer. On that list are things like Autism Spectrum Disorder, Sensory Integration Disorder, Reactive Attachment Disorder, Attention Deficit and Hyperactive Disorder, Sleep Disorder, Growth Disorder, etc., etc., etc. I never signed up to be the mother of a child with special needs. Especially one like James. I'll admit that I cried when I found out Izzy was a boy because I was so worried that he would be "another James". I knew I could care for one "James", but 2???
I love all of my children. Sometimes remembering that I love James can be hard. It does get easier as he gets older and he learns control and we understand more about him. These are all honest feelings and I'm sharing them with you. I don't want to take any flak for feeling them. In all honesty, unless you have a child like James, you don't have any room to give me flak anyway.
I wonder often about James and who he will be when he is an adult. I wonder just how he will be able to handle working in the "real" world. Will he ever get over his video game obsession? Will he ever learn to really connect with other people? Those are things I think of, on top of the usual stuff of wondering about the kind of woman he may or may not marry, and what college he will go to.
I'm going to leave this post with a couple of things. First a thought, and then an excerpt. The excerpt is from a woman who is talking about discovering her child has Fragile X Syndrome. While I particularly identify with what she is saying, having a special needs child, I think that it applies to all parents. Her name is credited along with the title. I got the excerpt from a woman on another message board I post on. The thought is this. There is a wonderful strong lively woman with two beautiful boys on one of my boards. She just found out recently that her oldest boy is on the Autism Spectrum. Needless to say she is having such a difficult time adjusting. I still am having a difficult time adjusting, and I've known about James since he was about 1 1/2 years old. I shared the excerpt with her. I also told her this. "I'm not promising roses, but tulips are just as beautiful when they bloom." And that's the truth of being a parent. You may not get the roses you planned on, but those tulips are just as bright and beautiful coming up in the spring.
WELCOME TO HOLLAND by Emily Perl Kingsley
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go.
Several hour later, the plane lands. The flight attendant comes in and says, “Welcome to Holland.”“Holland?!?” you say. “What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy!! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy.” But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine, and disease. It's just a different place. So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met. It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for awhile a you catch your breath, you look around...... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills.... and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy...and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say, “Yes, that's where I was suppose to go. That's what I had planned.”And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away.....because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss.....BUT ....if you spend your life mourning that fact that you didn't get to Italy, YOU may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things,....about HOLLAND!
James is a highly special needs child. Appearences are very deceiving when it comes to him. Aside from the fact that he is VERY small for his age, about the size of a "typical" 5 year old and he's almost 9, there is nothing about his outward appearence to make one stop and say "that child is special". He is very smart for his age. He can be very charismatic and charming.
James has a list. And the list keeps getting longer and longer. On that list are things like Autism Spectrum Disorder, Sensory Integration Disorder, Reactive Attachment Disorder, Attention Deficit and Hyperactive Disorder, Sleep Disorder, Growth Disorder, etc., etc., etc. I never signed up to be the mother of a child with special needs. Especially one like James. I'll admit that I cried when I found out Izzy was a boy because I was so worried that he would be "another James". I knew I could care for one "James", but 2???
I love all of my children. Sometimes remembering that I love James can be hard. It does get easier as he gets older and he learns control and we understand more about him. These are all honest feelings and I'm sharing them with you. I don't want to take any flak for feeling them. In all honesty, unless you have a child like James, you don't have any room to give me flak anyway.
I wonder often about James and who he will be when he is an adult. I wonder just how he will be able to handle working in the "real" world. Will he ever get over his video game obsession? Will he ever learn to really connect with other people? Those are things I think of, on top of the usual stuff of wondering about the kind of woman he may or may not marry, and what college he will go to.
I'm going to leave this post with a couple of things. First a thought, and then an excerpt. The excerpt is from a woman who is talking about discovering her child has Fragile X Syndrome. While I particularly identify with what she is saying, having a special needs child, I think that it applies to all parents. Her name is credited along with the title. I got the excerpt from a woman on another message board I post on. The thought is this. There is a wonderful strong lively woman with two beautiful boys on one of my boards. She just found out recently that her oldest boy is on the Autism Spectrum. Needless to say she is having such a difficult time adjusting. I still am having a difficult time adjusting, and I've known about James since he was about 1 1/2 years old. I shared the excerpt with her. I also told her this. "I'm not promising roses, but tulips are just as beautiful when they bloom." And that's the truth of being a parent. You may not get the roses you planned on, but those tulips are just as bright and beautiful coming up in the spring.
WELCOME TO HOLLAND by Emily Perl Kingsley
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go.
Several hour later, the plane lands. The flight attendant comes in and says, “Welcome to Holland.”“Holland?!?” you say. “What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy!! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy.” But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine, and disease. It's just a different place. So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met. It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for awhile a you catch your breath, you look around...... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills.... and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy...and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say, “Yes, that's where I was suppose to go. That's what I had planned.”And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away.....because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss.....BUT ....if you spend your life mourning that fact that you didn't get to Italy, YOU may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things,....about HOLLAND!
Monday, September 17, 2007
A post of pictures
I don't know if this will work or not, but we'll find out. I'm trying to add pics, to make a whole post of them. It's kind of hard to do because while I love my brother dearly for putting my new computer together when mine suffered the Crash and Burn of 2007, and we added huge amounts of memory, because of where the photos are now stored, I can't see them as little thumbnails in the folders, so unless I KNOW the name of the picture, I'm playing a wonderful guessing game, so we'll see what we get! I sure do hope I can get these pictures to go in some kind of order!
That is the darling Horde in all it's cute glory. They are posing for the camera and trying to keep Izzy in place for the picture!
This is what happens when Izzy is Baby of the Week on a message board I belong to. They ask for random pictures of said baby. I was told to take a picture of Izzy in something girly. This would be one of Jayden's MANY dress up skirts. Yes, that's me sitting behind Izzy.
This is Jason and Izzy playing along on Jason's Martin, a birthday gift from me a few years back. Izzy loves to hear music and "play" along. I wonder if as he gets older he'll keep the interest or not?
That is the darling Horde in all it's cute glory. They are posing for the camera and trying to keep Izzy in place for the picture!
This is what happens when Izzy is Baby of the Week on a message board I belong to. They ask for random pictures of said baby. I was told to take a picture of Izzy in something girly. This would be one of Jayden's MANY dress up skirts. Yes, that's me sitting behind Izzy.
This is the older members of the Horde on the first full day of school. They look so eager and happy. Katy looks amazingly cute with a shaved head, in fact I think even more grown up than before. Where did my little girl go?
This is Jason and Izzy playing along on Jason's Martin, a birthday gift from me a few years back. Izzy loves to hear music and "play" along. I wonder if as he gets older he'll keep the interest or not?
This is another of those "Baby of the Week" photos. This time around, it was put some hair on Izzy's bald little head. He does have some hair. It's very palely blondish red, and it's very fine, and it's barely there right now. He does not look like he's having fun here. That is James hold him down and Katy putting the Cabbage Patch Doll's Hair on his head. I certainly hope that the hair that Izzy grows out of his head is a little less unruly.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
I wasn't listening.
Today, I'm talking to James and Jayden. "GO PLAY". I wasn't really yelling, just talking loudly. I tell Jayden "Izzy is napping, you need to be quiet and go play." James comes in to the office and starts talking about something or the other, most likely video games.
"How can I help you?"
"I just want to tell you this one thing."
"Is the baby sleeping?"
"Yes, but it's just one thing."
"What did I JUST tell Jayden?"
"I wasn't listening."
Well, at least he's honest, right? Things have been interesting around here to say the least the past few days. Some of it I'm willing to share, some of it I'm not. If you are one of the few who know, well then it doesn't need repeating here.
The girls' bedroom. I am beginning to regret the mere idea of painting it. Ok, we live in an old house (have I said this before?). Built in 1889 or something like that. At some point, someone stripped the paint to the plaster and put up wallpaper, at least I *think* that is what happened because there just isn't enough "stuff" on the walls to account for 100+ years of decorating. The wallpaper peels up pretty easily, in most areas of the house. It has been painted over with good old laytex. White laytex at that. In the girls' room is a completely different case, kind of. Oh, the wallpaper is there, there is also a layer of grey primer.
So, I was sitting down, by one of the windows in the girls' room to wash the window and the wall to get it ready to paint. Ooh, there are some air bubbles in the paint. It won't hurt to take those out and smooth out the paint because i'll be painting over it all anyway. Well, my smoothing out air bubbles turns in to a HUGE piece of paint coming off in my hand. Oh hell. It just keeps coming and coming off. Crap. Under this paint is a layer of grey dust, and primer, and then wallpaper, and then the original plaster walls. Oh goody.
So I get the flea brained notion in my head to strip all the walls of the paint, it's coming off easily enough. Then wash them, and paint them over. *sigh*. Not so simple. Some parts of the paint are really still VERY stuck on. It makes a HUGE mess. The dust is so thick, it needs to be scraped off before washing it, or I'd wind up with a bucket of mud. Ok, I've got three full walls done. I mean, stripped of paint. In one corner, I have them repainted, which took 3 coats of paint. In another corner I have the wall scraped and washed. In another corner (there are quite a few corners in this room, about 6 I think because the room has a little bit of an L shape to it) the wall is just scraped.
The just scraped wall now has a HUGE drywall patch on it. Bigger than the first time. When the paint was stripped from that wall, the wallpaper came with it. In no other part of the room has the wallpaper come down as well. Under the wall paper is a huge area of crumbling plaster. Jason uses drywal fabric and plaster to patch the hole. As I was scraping the dust off of the wall, the patch came off, with more. So now the hole is even bigger. I'm going to wash AROUND the patch, and then paint over all of it, though over the patch I think I'll use the brush instead of the roller.
There are still 2 more corners of the room, and those still have the original white paint, nothing has even been stripped there. So the walls with the pretty peach paint on them look fantastic. Very girly and nice. As if I didn't have enough to do already, I'm adding sponge stencils, in three different colors as a border on the walls. It will go from the ceiling, down the corners and around each door and window frame. What am I thinking? Oh yeah, the girls will LOVE it. I get that, however, I am creating tons of work for myself.
Yes, the kids want to "help". Their version of helping involves 1/2 a bucket of paint spilled on the carpet (good thing the landlord didn't replace the carpet upstairs), dragging paint pieces to other parts of the house, and playing "swords" with the scrapers. Not much help at all.
So here it is about 12:30 in the morning, and I'm up and around because I have been working on the girls' room. It will look fantastic when it is done, and maybe by then I'll have figured out how to post pics to share. However, until it is done, it is a headache and so much more effort than I bargained for. By the way, does anyone have any kind of pattern for an over the bed canopy? You know, the kind that is a circle at the top, hangs from the ceiling, and drapes over the head of the bed? I am going to make two of those, one for each girl. I have tulle out the wazoo, left over wedding decs, so I figure I could put it to good use finally. I've seen pics of them, the canopies, and they seem easy enough to make. However, that's what I said about the girls' room. "Two, three days tops and it'll be done." HAH!
"How can I help you?"
"I just want to tell you this one thing."
"Is the baby sleeping?"
"Yes, but it's just one thing."
"What did I JUST tell Jayden?"
"I wasn't listening."
Well, at least he's honest, right? Things have been interesting around here to say the least the past few days. Some of it I'm willing to share, some of it I'm not. If you are one of the few who know, well then it doesn't need repeating here.
The girls' bedroom. I am beginning to regret the mere idea of painting it. Ok, we live in an old house (have I said this before?). Built in 1889 or something like that. At some point, someone stripped the paint to the plaster and put up wallpaper, at least I *think* that is what happened because there just isn't enough "stuff" on the walls to account for 100+ years of decorating. The wallpaper peels up pretty easily, in most areas of the house. It has been painted over with good old laytex. White laytex at that. In the girls' room is a completely different case, kind of. Oh, the wallpaper is there, there is also a layer of grey primer.
So, I was sitting down, by one of the windows in the girls' room to wash the window and the wall to get it ready to paint. Ooh, there are some air bubbles in the paint. It won't hurt to take those out and smooth out the paint because i'll be painting over it all anyway. Well, my smoothing out air bubbles turns in to a HUGE piece of paint coming off in my hand. Oh hell. It just keeps coming and coming off. Crap. Under this paint is a layer of grey dust, and primer, and then wallpaper, and then the original plaster walls. Oh goody.
So I get the flea brained notion in my head to strip all the walls of the paint, it's coming off easily enough. Then wash them, and paint them over. *sigh*. Not so simple. Some parts of the paint are really still VERY stuck on. It makes a HUGE mess. The dust is so thick, it needs to be scraped off before washing it, or I'd wind up with a bucket of mud. Ok, I've got three full walls done. I mean, stripped of paint. In one corner, I have them repainted, which took 3 coats of paint. In another corner I have the wall scraped and washed. In another corner (there are quite a few corners in this room, about 6 I think because the room has a little bit of an L shape to it) the wall is just scraped.
The just scraped wall now has a HUGE drywall patch on it. Bigger than the first time. When the paint was stripped from that wall, the wallpaper came with it. In no other part of the room has the wallpaper come down as well. Under the wall paper is a huge area of crumbling plaster. Jason uses drywal fabric and plaster to patch the hole. As I was scraping the dust off of the wall, the patch came off, with more. So now the hole is even bigger. I'm going to wash AROUND the patch, and then paint over all of it, though over the patch I think I'll use the brush instead of the roller.
There are still 2 more corners of the room, and those still have the original white paint, nothing has even been stripped there. So the walls with the pretty peach paint on them look fantastic. Very girly and nice. As if I didn't have enough to do already, I'm adding sponge stencils, in three different colors as a border on the walls. It will go from the ceiling, down the corners and around each door and window frame. What am I thinking? Oh yeah, the girls will LOVE it. I get that, however, I am creating tons of work for myself.
Yes, the kids want to "help". Their version of helping involves 1/2 a bucket of paint spilled on the carpet (good thing the landlord didn't replace the carpet upstairs), dragging paint pieces to other parts of the house, and playing "swords" with the scrapers. Not much help at all.
So here it is about 12:30 in the morning, and I'm up and around because I have been working on the girls' room. It will look fantastic when it is done, and maybe by then I'll have figured out how to post pics to share. However, until it is done, it is a headache and so much more effort than I bargained for. By the way, does anyone have any kind of pattern for an over the bed canopy? You know, the kind that is a circle at the top, hangs from the ceiling, and drapes over the head of the bed? I am going to make two of those, one for each girl. I have tulle out the wazoo, left over wedding decs, so I figure I could put it to good use finally. I've seen pics of them, the canopies, and they seem easy enough to make. However, that's what I said about the girls' room. "Two, three days tops and it'll be done." HAH!
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Learning to Crochet and Never Growing Up
I'm hearing lots of giggling and laughing coming from the living room while sitting at the computer. I have a feeling that if I were to get up and go take a look, I would strongly disapprove of the form of self entertainment and put a halt to it. In the living room is the entire Horde, and Jason. From what I am gathering, they are playing some kind of game involving a ball and tickling and what else I'm not sure. Now, with an adult in the room, you'd think it would be much less roudy than it would be with just the Horde. However, that just goes to show what a big kid my husband is. He's just as bad, if not worse, than they are.
Speaking of games, Izzy has decided that he can control what the other kids do. They oblige him completely. They have taught him that if he smacks his legs with both hands, they will get down on their knees and bow down to him while chanting "bow down to Emporer Issac!" over and over again. If he claps his hands, they do a little dance. If he makes a loud noise over and over again, they will repeat it. They refer to him as Emporer Issac and he adores it. He has made the older members of the Horde in to doting servants. Now if only he could get them to clean their rooms and the play room.
Katy has decided she wants to start crocheting again. I had begun to teach her about a year ago. We got as far as making one long line before she lost interest. While shopping on Friday, I had her pick out a ball of yarn that she liked. One ball would make a rather small project, and therefore, hopefully, keep her frustration to a minimum. She has decided that she want's to make a scarf. A scarf is a very simple project and a great one to learn on, in fact it's how I learned to crochet.
So I tell Katy to make a row of 48 stitches, which she does. I begin to show her how to make the lower row, which will make the loops. She doesn't quite understand, and it's a dark yarn, so I do it for her. Then I show her how to make the first couple of rows. She can do it, to a point. I leave her alone to do it. She brings it to me and says "I've really messed it up, I can't do the end thing."
Katy has totally skipped turning it back around to make another row and has continued it around and to the bottom. I unravel it and then put her back in place. A few minutes go by and I hear the aformentioned giggling and laughing fest. Katy brings me her project, and once again, it is not as it should be. She has twisted it so that the bottom is now the top.
My look of absolute dumbfoundment has her laughing. James wants to know what is so funny and she tells him that it is in fact the look on my face. She then says, "I don't know what happened."
"Um, really?"
"Yeah, I was doing it OK and then we were bouncing a ball off of Jayden's head (with the aforementioned grown adult/child in the room) and crocheting and I did that."
"Katy, that just goes to prove you can't crochet and bounce balls off your sister's head at the same time." To this comment she starts laughing almost uncontrollably.
"No, Mommy, I was crocheting and they started the game and I set it aside and I picked it back up and I was doing it and that's when it all got messed up."
"Were you paying attention to what you were doing?"
"Um...not really."
"OK, that's why it looks like this. You can work on it more tomorrow."
I told her I'll add a couple more rows to it so that it's harder for her to get it all twisted around like that. At least she is trying. When James was informed that he is going to be learning to crochet, he was less than enthused and told me that it was a "girl" thing and he shouldn't be made to learn it. My theory on "girl" things and "boy" things is that is a bunch of hooey. They will all learn to crochet, to sew, to work on a car, to do their laundry, to throw a ball, to fix a drawer, etc. etc. etc. I feel that in order to be fully prepared to be grown ups and get out of the house they need to know all those things. And they will get to hone their skills while doing work around my house.
Speaking of games, Izzy has decided that he can control what the other kids do. They oblige him completely. They have taught him that if he smacks his legs with both hands, they will get down on their knees and bow down to him while chanting "bow down to Emporer Issac!" over and over again. If he claps his hands, they do a little dance. If he makes a loud noise over and over again, they will repeat it. They refer to him as Emporer Issac and he adores it. He has made the older members of the Horde in to doting servants. Now if only he could get them to clean their rooms and the play room.
Katy has decided she wants to start crocheting again. I had begun to teach her about a year ago. We got as far as making one long line before she lost interest. While shopping on Friday, I had her pick out a ball of yarn that she liked. One ball would make a rather small project, and therefore, hopefully, keep her frustration to a minimum. She has decided that she want's to make a scarf. A scarf is a very simple project and a great one to learn on, in fact it's how I learned to crochet.
So I tell Katy to make a row of 48 stitches, which she does. I begin to show her how to make the lower row, which will make the loops. She doesn't quite understand, and it's a dark yarn, so I do it for her. Then I show her how to make the first couple of rows. She can do it, to a point. I leave her alone to do it. She brings it to me and says "I've really messed it up, I can't do the end thing."
Katy has totally skipped turning it back around to make another row and has continued it around and to the bottom. I unravel it and then put her back in place. A few minutes go by and I hear the aformentioned giggling and laughing fest. Katy brings me her project, and once again, it is not as it should be. She has twisted it so that the bottom is now the top.
My look of absolute dumbfoundment has her laughing. James wants to know what is so funny and she tells him that it is in fact the look on my face. She then says, "I don't know what happened."
"Um, really?"
"Yeah, I was doing it OK and then we were bouncing a ball off of Jayden's head (with the aforementioned grown adult/child in the room) and crocheting and I did that."
"Katy, that just goes to prove you can't crochet and bounce balls off your sister's head at the same time." To this comment she starts laughing almost uncontrollably.
"No, Mommy, I was crocheting and they started the game and I set it aside and I picked it back up and I was doing it and that's when it all got messed up."
"Were you paying attention to what you were doing?"
"Um...not really."
"OK, that's why it looks like this. You can work on it more tomorrow."
I told her I'll add a couple more rows to it so that it's harder for her to get it all twisted around like that. At least she is trying. When James was informed that he is going to be learning to crochet, he was less than enthused and told me that it was a "girl" thing and he shouldn't be made to learn it. My theory on "girl" things and "boy" things is that is a bunch of hooey. They will all learn to crochet, to sew, to work on a car, to do their laundry, to throw a ball, to fix a drawer, etc. etc. etc. I feel that in order to be fully prepared to be grown ups and get out of the house they need to know all those things. And they will get to hone their skills while doing work around my house.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Milestones and Back to School
I'm still not sure how to insert pictures into the blog, and with the hard drive crash of 2007 (it was also the mother board that hit the dirt, and Jack, my brother, can't explain why it happened) we have yet to put our pictures back on the computer. I will figure it out, I'm going to want to share first day of school pictures. It will actually be 2nd day for James and Katy, and 1st day for Jayden. The older three start school this next week. Katy and James have a 1/2 day on Tuesday, Jayden starts on Wednesday, which is the first full day for Katy and James. I found out this past Thursday that Jayden will be at school all day as well. I did a little dance right there in the office! That means that it will be just me and Izzy during the day together. It will give me time to work more with him one on one.
Speaking of Izzy, he has hit a couple of milestones since I last posted. On Tuesday morning, I was sitting on the couch reading "The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants". A side note on this book. Katy is reading it right now as well. I had never read this book, and as I like to think of myself as an informed parent, I decided to read it as well. I wanted to know exactly what she was reading. It's a pretty good book, and very age appropriate.
So I'm sitting on the couch, reading the book. Izzy is playing in the living room and the older members of the Horde are upstairs. Izzy is moving about a lot, and I keep seeing the top of his head over the top of the book. Admittedly, Izzy is a big kid, and when he's standing upright, this makes perfect sense. However, I'm seeing the top of his head in the middle of the room, and going from one side of the room to the other. Now the only way that this were possible is for him to be....*gasp* .... WALKING! I lower the book, and by God, there he was, WALKING back and forth across the room! What a HUGE milestone for him! I just sat there grinning like a fool. I still smile thinking of it. He's getting to be such a BIG boy!
Another milestone this week. Izzy is delayed in speech. He was drugged up pretty heavily for the first 9 months of his life due to seizures. So he is delayed in all realms as the drugs just made him a groggy blob for the most part. So every milestone he reaches is delayed, but still joyous, and definately long awaited. It's also why he's just walking at 17 months, though I realize that some kids take longer than others.
Izzy has been playing with sounds more and more often. He really seems to have no desire to communicate, which we just can't figure out why. He's been vocalizing more, trying to use some consonant sounds, though he hasn't been putting the sounds together to make basic words. Mmmmm has been a favorite of his. On Thursday I was in the office, which is at the back of the house, using the computer and Izzy was crawling and walking around back here as well. At the back of the house is also the adult bedroom and the kitchen and the lower bath. He is free to roam all the rooms for the most part.
I get up to check on what he is doing. He had turned on my clock radio, which he thinks is a great game. It makes a great noise every time he pushes the button. I go to get Izzy out of my bedroom and he has climbed on to the bed (another milestone while I'm thinking of it) and was chewing on a magazine. Izzy is a paper eater. He loves ALL paper. It's a phase, all of my kids have gone through it, however it does mean keeping books, papers, magazines, and mail out of his reach.
I look at Izzy and say,
"You little heathen. You aren't supposed to be eating that."
He looks up at me and grins his adorable grin and says "Muma" and giggles and claps.
I stand there in absolute shock, this is his FIRST word!
"What did you say?"
"Muma...hehe" and more clapping.
"Yes, you are such a good boy Izzy. Yes, I'm Muma. Good boy." and I continue the praise for the guy. And I'm grinning like a fool. My baby boy's first "real" word was Muma. Hehe, I get first dibs! Ok, admittedly, Izzy signed Daddy first, however, I get the spoken realm! As a side note, we are teaching Izzy (and the other members of the Horde to keep it consistent) basic sign language to help teach him communication.
We have the van that day so that we can go pick up Katy's birth certificate, pick up my pay check from Denny's, and go to the Horde's school. I need to show them Katy's birth certificate, and they get to meet their teachers, well the older two do. We meet the Principal, Mr. K. He's a very jovial nice guy, and I KNOW I'll be seeing a lot of him. They had a computer error where they had place James in 2nd grade, not 3rd. Because of this, the Horde was able to meet their teachers. We met James' resource room teacher, Ms. D. first. She gave us an impromptu tour of the building, showing us where James' resource room would be on the 2nd floor. Then we went up to the 3rd floor, to meet James' main stream teacher, Mrs. W., and on the way to his class, we passed by Katy's class, where we met Mr. R.
My impressions of their teachers so far. Ms. D. is a very happy, high strung kind of woman. She was trying SO hard to connect with James. He was having none of it. The only interest he had in her room was the computers (of coarse) and her prize box. Though it was nice for ME to meet her and place a face with her name, as I'll be working with her, and Mrs. W. closely for James in the next year. Mr. R. is a young guy, rather skinny, and bald. You can tell he has a receding hairline and instead of trying to cover it up, he shaved his hair off. He was friendly and welcoming, as all teachers are at the beginning of the year. I think that Katy will really like to be in his class. James main stream class will only have 17 students! I was so amazed and impressed by this fact. And very glad because I know that fewer students in the class for less distraction for him will allow him to be more successful. Mrs. W. came across a lot like Ms. D. Very open and friendly, and trying so very very hard to make a connection with James. At this point we had been at the school for close to an hour and James was just bored and tired and wanted to leave, which I also understand.
We ran some more errands, and went to pick Jason up from work. Everyone is just bursting with the news that Izzy said his first word! Jason looks back at him and says
"You are such a good boy Izzy. Can you say Dada?"
Izzy looks at him, grins and says "HAH! MUMA!" and claps his hands. I found this hilarious, as did the entire Horde, though I think Jason was a little hurt. I reminded him that while Izzy may say muma, he only signs daddy, and that seemed to help a little. So now, every chance we get, we try to get him to say muma.
Speaking of Izzy, he has hit a couple of milestones since I last posted. On Tuesday morning, I was sitting on the couch reading "The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants". A side note on this book. Katy is reading it right now as well. I had never read this book, and as I like to think of myself as an informed parent, I decided to read it as well. I wanted to know exactly what she was reading. It's a pretty good book, and very age appropriate.
So I'm sitting on the couch, reading the book. Izzy is playing in the living room and the older members of the Horde are upstairs. Izzy is moving about a lot, and I keep seeing the top of his head over the top of the book. Admittedly, Izzy is a big kid, and when he's standing upright, this makes perfect sense. However, I'm seeing the top of his head in the middle of the room, and going from one side of the room to the other. Now the only way that this were possible is for him to be....*gasp* .... WALKING! I lower the book, and by God, there he was, WALKING back and forth across the room! What a HUGE milestone for him! I just sat there grinning like a fool. I still smile thinking of it. He's getting to be such a BIG boy!
Another milestone this week. Izzy is delayed in speech. He was drugged up pretty heavily for the first 9 months of his life due to seizures. So he is delayed in all realms as the drugs just made him a groggy blob for the most part. So every milestone he reaches is delayed, but still joyous, and definately long awaited. It's also why he's just walking at 17 months, though I realize that some kids take longer than others.
Izzy has been playing with sounds more and more often. He really seems to have no desire to communicate, which we just can't figure out why. He's been vocalizing more, trying to use some consonant sounds, though he hasn't been putting the sounds together to make basic words. Mmmmm has been a favorite of his. On Thursday I was in the office, which is at the back of the house, using the computer and Izzy was crawling and walking around back here as well. At the back of the house is also the adult bedroom and the kitchen and the lower bath. He is free to roam all the rooms for the most part.
I get up to check on what he is doing. He had turned on my clock radio, which he thinks is a great game. It makes a great noise every time he pushes the button. I go to get Izzy out of my bedroom and he has climbed on to the bed (another milestone while I'm thinking of it) and was chewing on a magazine. Izzy is a paper eater. He loves ALL paper. It's a phase, all of my kids have gone through it, however it does mean keeping books, papers, magazines, and mail out of his reach.
I look at Izzy and say,
"You little heathen. You aren't supposed to be eating that."
He looks up at me and grins his adorable grin and says "Muma" and giggles and claps.
I stand there in absolute shock, this is his FIRST word!
"What did you say?"
"Muma...hehe" and more clapping.
"Yes, you are such a good boy Izzy. Yes, I'm Muma. Good boy." and I continue the praise for the guy. And I'm grinning like a fool. My baby boy's first "real" word was Muma. Hehe, I get first dibs! Ok, admittedly, Izzy signed Daddy first, however, I get the spoken realm! As a side note, we are teaching Izzy (and the other members of the Horde to keep it consistent) basic sign language to help teach him communication.
We have the van that day so that we can go pick up Katy's birth certificate, pick up my pay check from Denny's, and go to the Horde's school. I need to show them Katy's birth certificate, and they get to meet their teachers, well the older two do. We meet the Principal, Mr. K. He's a very jovial nice guy, and I KNOW I'll be seeing a lot of him. They had a computer error where they had place James in 2nd grade, not 3rd. Because of this, the Horde was able to meet their teachers. We met James' resource room teacher, Ms. D. first. She gave us an impromptu tour of the building, showing us where James' resource room would be on the 2nd floor. Then we went up to the 3rd floor, to meet James' main stream teacher, Mrs. W., and on the way to his class, we passed by Katy's class, where we met Mr. R.
My impressions of their teachers so far. Ms. D. is a very happy, high strung kind of woman. She was trying SO hard to connect with James. He was having none of it. The only interest he had in her room was the computers (of coarse) and her prize box. Though it was nice for ME to meet her and place a face with her name, as I'll be working with her, and Mrs. W. closely for James in the next year. Mr. R. is a young guy, rather skinny, and bald. You can tell he has a receding hairline and instead of trying to cover it up, he shaved his hair off. He was friendly and welcoming, as all teachers are at the beginning of the year. I think that Katy will really like to be in his class. James main stream class will only have 17 students! I was so amazed and impressed by this fact. And very glad because I know that fewer students in the class for less distraction for him will allow him to be more successful. Mrs. W. came across a lot like Ms. D. Very open and friendly, and trying so very very hard to make a connection with James. At this point we had been at the school for close to an hour and James was just bored and tired and wanted to leave, which I also understand.
We ran some more errands, and went to pick Jason up from work. Everyone is just bursting with the news that Izzy said his first word! Jason looks back at him and says
"You are such a good boy Izzy. Can you say Dada?"
Izzy looks at him, grins and says "HAH! MUMA!" and claps his hands. I found this hilarious, as did the entire Horde, though I think Jason was a little hurt. I reminded him that while Izzy may say muma, he only signs daddy, and that seemed to help a little. So now, every chance we get, we try to get him to say muma.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Sibling Justice
So today the Horde was playing upstairs and all the sudden I hear James screaming bloody murder. So I yell for him to come downstairs. He arrives and is crying and carrying on. I can't understand a word he has said. So I tell him that as soon as he stops crying I will gladly solve his problem for him. I finally get him so he's just snuffling and whining.
"Jayden hurt me."
"OK, I need something more than that. How?"
"She stepped on my face."
"She what?"
"She stepped on my face."
"How is it that you were where she COULD step on your face?"
"I was on the floor."
"Why were you on the floor? Were you playing?"
"I tripped."
"So you tripped and fell and Jayden stepped on your face?"
"Yes."
By this time, Katy and Jayden have both come down stairs as well. Katy keeps trying to butt in and tell me what happened. While I appreciate this tendency, I do want to hear it from the involved parties first and foremost. So I turn to Jayden.
"Did you step on James' face?"
"MmmHmmm." Jayden is nodding in agreement.
"Did you do it on purpose or accident?"
"On purpose."
"You went over to James and stepped on his face on purpose?"
"Yes."
At this point I'm wondering if Jayden even understands what on purpose means, being only 5 and all.
"Katy, did Jayden step on James' face on purpose?"
"Yes, but..."
"Thank you Katy, that's all I needed. Jayden, you are going to get a spanking, you do not step on your brother's face."
Jayden starts to really cry, James is still caterwalling and carrying on and Katy is really trying to get a word in edgewise. I have Jayden placed on my lap in preperation for her spanking.
"Mommy, I really need to say something."
"What Katy?"
"James was holding Jayden's feet and that's why she stepped on his face, she was trying to get him to let go."
Um, that doesn't jive with what James just told me about tripping.
"James, come over here."
He walks slowly over, still snuffling and sniffing, holding his nose, which does look red and a little swollen, but no bruising or bleeding, so I'm thinking it's not broken.
"Were you holding Jayden's feet like Katy said?"
"Yes."
"So you lied to me about tripping?"
"Yes."
"Then you deserved it, go to your room."
James goes and sits on the stairs and cries and kicks his feet. He was really hoping for some justification for his pain and suffering. I think that maybe he'll learn not to grab hold of his sister's feet.
"Jayden hurt me."
"OK, I need something more than that. How?"
"She stepped on my face."
"She what?"
"She stepped on my face."
"How is it that you were where she COULD step on your face?"
"I was on the floor."
"Why were you on the floor? Were you playing?"
"I tripped."
"So you tripped and fell and Jayden stepped on your face?"
"Yes."
By this time, Katy and Jayden have both come down stairs as well. Katy keeps trying to butt in and tell me what happened. While I appreciate this tendency, I do want to hear it from the involved parties first and foremost. So I turn to Jayden.
"Did you step on James' face?"
"MmmHmmm." Jayden is nodding in agreement.
"Did you do it on purpose or accident?"
"On purpose."
"You went over to James and stepped on his face on purpose?"
"Yes."
At this point I'm wondering if Jayden even understands what on purpose means, being only 5 and all.
"Katy, did Jayden step on James' face on purpose?"
"Yes, but..."
"Thank you Katy, that's all I needed. Jayden, you are going to get a spanking, you do not step on your brother's face."
Jayden starts to really cry, James is still caterwalling and carrying on and Katy is really trying to get a word in edgewise. I have Jayden placed on my lap in preperation for her spanking.
"Mommy, I really need to say something."
"What Katy?"
"James was holding Jayden's feet and that's why she stepped on his face, she was trying to get him to let go."
Um, that doesn't jive with what James just told me about tripping.
"James, come over here."
He walks slowly over, still snuffling and sniffing, holding his nose, which does look red and a little swollen, but no bruising or bleeding, so I'm thinking it's not broken.
"Were you holding Jayden's feet like Katy said?"
"Yes."
"So you lied to me about tripping?"
"Yes."
"Then you deserved it, go to your room."
James goes and sits on the stairs and cries and kicks his feet. He was really hoping for some justification for his pain and suffering. I think that maybe he'll learn not to grab hold of his sister's feet.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
For the past couple of days, the Horde and I have been walking around in our neighborhood, running errands. Thankfully, we don't need the van to complete these errands, so it saves on gas, which saves money, and the Horde gets out and has some exercise. On Tuesday, we went to the Horde's new school. Come to find out all 3 of the older ones will be enrolled in the same hallowed halls of academia. Well, that certainly makes that a little easier. We walked there, taking the busy road, which they will not be allowed to walk on, even though there is a sidewalk. Katy I trust walking on the sidewalk and obeying traffic laws. I trust Jayden to an extent, after all, she is only a Kindgergartner. James I trust not at all. I love the boy dearly, but he tries to break rules that HE makes.
We go in and I give the secretary the girls' paperwork. James' stuff is still at the Admin building. I had called over there and was told that as the girls' school would have the resources to meet James' needs, that he would enroll there as well. I need to call the school tomorrow to ensure that yes, they have received James' info, along with the stuff from all three of their old schools.
There is a HUGE playground in front of the school. I constantly hear "can we play?" the ENTIRE time we are at the school, from the point they spot the playground a block away, until we leave the grounds and cross the street and go in to the store. The Horde wants to know which teachers they will have and where their classrooms will be and yada yada yada. Well, I don't know any of this. I call the school later that day and find out that teachers aren't assigned until NEXT week, the week before school starts, when we will have to once again walk down there to find out who has which teacher. Izzy spends the entire trip trying to climb out of the stroller. I add the shoulder straps to his harness and that just frustrates the poor guy to no end, as he was pretty close to getting out of just the lap belt.
On the way to and from the school, Katy is trying to memorize the way there and back. It's not hard, however she does ask me to draw her a map for the first few days of school. I told her that I would walk with the kids the first few days (I'm thinking the first week, tops) until I know they know the way. Katy will be walking with James and Jayden to school, and just James on the way home, if Jayden is attending morning class, which I hope that she is, which I need to mention to the school when I call tomorrow to verify receipt of said papers from before. I will be walking there to get Jayden from class in the middle of the day, and doing a check up on James at the same time.
Realizing that the Horde will be walking back and forth to school means that they are going to need so many more things for school than I had planned on. They will be walking in fair and foul weather alike. No rides from me for them as Jason leaves for work very early in the morning, long before we will even be awake most likely. I am not going to get everyone up super early to keep the van on the chance that it might rain to be able to drive the kids to school. I walked when I was a kid, so can they. They are going to need umbrellas and raincoats, and probably some kind of rain boot. For winter they will be outfitted to the gills as well with scarves, mittens, hats, coats, boots, and snowpants.
We leave the school and cross the street where the crossing guard will be standing come the school year. Katy is talking to herself about how that is where the crossing guard will be and wants to know why they HAVE to cross there and not down the block at the light. I tell her because people get tickets for running red lights, but go to jail for going through a crossing guard. I'm not quite sure this is true, however it is sufficient of an answer for her.
We go in to the store. I want to pick up something for myself for lunch, and something for the Horde (including the youngest) if possible. I have just over $13 to use. We pass the Little Debbie display. MMMMM.....chocolate chip cremes...much like the oatmeal cremes. Yes, definately a box of those, Jason will like them for work as well. Over to frozen foods. Yeah, they have the Buffalo Wings that I like. 2 boxes of those. The 2 boxes of wings is about $7. The cookies are just over $1. Ooooh, pizza rolls would be perfect for the Horde for lunch. The bag is almost $4. At this point, my brain forgets how to do basic math, thankfully, I have an almost 5th grader along with me.
"Katy, how much is 7 plus 4?"
"11 Mommy"
"Are you sure? It's not 12?"
"Um, no, it's 11"
"Really?"
"Uh yeah. 6 plus 4 is 10 and 7 is 1 more than 6 so you add 1 to 10 and you have 11"
"OK, I'm trusting you, but I swear it's 12"
We get to the check out. I hold back the cookies, as I think I won't be able to get them, but I still want them and I want to see what my total is. It was just over $11. Hey, they really did teach Katy stuff in school! Moral of the story there is to always have a 5th grader with you when you need to do math.
We leave the store and walk to the house in the way that I want the Horde to walk back and forth to school. It's a very simple way to go. It is a little longer, but not enough to make much difference, and there is little to no traffic, so it's MUCH safer, especially with the child who can't follow his own rules along for the walk. This is when Katy asks for a map. She can remember what 7 plus 4 is but can't remember how to get home from school?
On Wednesday we have 2 errands to run. We need to go to the Dept. of Water to have it transferred in to my name and go to Dollar General to pick up some basic school supplies for Katy, as she is the only one that still needs a back pack and that kind of thing. Both of these places are also a relatively short walk from our house, in the opposite direction of the school.
Once again, Izzy goes in to the stroller, however starting off with the shoulder straps on, which he promptly becomes upset with. It stormed the night before, so his stroller was a bit wet, so we put a blanket in his seat so he doesn't become soaked on our journey. It is much warmer than the day before, so everyone is in shorts and tees where the day before they were in jeans and sweatshirts. Izzy goes barefoot, his preferred state it seems.
We walk the 1/2 mile or so to the Water Dept. Building. We all go inside. I fill out the application to have the water put in my name. The Horde sits on the long couch while I do this. Izzy tries to climb out of his stroller and gets very upset that he can't manage it. James calls to him like a puppy, by making kissy sounds and saying "here baby baby baby", even after being told to stop. Jayden is annoying Katy by rubbing her head (which was shaved on Tuesday evening, a story all of it's own) and touching her, and it's hot and sticky outside so I am getting annoyed with them all. It takes 10 minutes for them to put my name in the computer and for us to pay the deposit and leave.
A block away is Dollar General. James and Jayden begin talking about all the things that they want to get for school. I promptly inform them that they don't need anything like I am buying and they aren't getting a thing. Jayden begins to cry a little and James definately pouts. Katy giggles.
We buy folders, pencils, mechanical pencils, a couple of decorative pens, some notebooks, memo pads, a note pad shaped like a K, a dictionary/thesaraus, and a back pack for katy. James and Jayden each get a goofy pen and a small note pad. And we pick up mini pizzas for lunch. All told, we spent less than $50.
As we walk home, I begin to hear the many complaints about how hot it is (and it was) and how they all want a drink of water when we get home, and then they begin to argue over who gets to have a drink first. And all the while I am thinking to myself "I have to work tonight". For Thursday, we aren't doing anything. We are staying home. Jason put the a/c units back in to the downstairs windows (we took them out while it was super cold out) and we are vegging out. In the evening, I am meeting a friend at the mall to have a girls' night out, though it won't be a late night. Just some time with a grown up and I'm not running errands by myself or going to work or doing anything with the kids. Sounds like heaven, doesn't it?
We go in and I give the secretary the girls' paperwork. James' stuff is still at the Admin building. I had called over there and was told that as the girls' school would have the resources to meet James' needs, that he would enroll there as well. I need to call the school tomorrow to ensure that yes, they have received James' info, along with the stuff from all three of their old schools.
There is a HUGE playground in front of the school. I constantly hear "can we play?" the ENTIRE time we are at the school, from the point they spot the playground a block away, until we leave the grounds and cross the street and go in to the store. The Horde wants to know which teachers they will have and where their classrooms will be and yada yada yada. Well, I don't know any of this. I call the school later that day and find out that teachers aren't assigned until NEXT week, the week before school starts, when we will have to once again walk down there to find out who has which teacher. Izzy spends the entire trip trying to climb out of the stroller. I add the shoulder straps to his harness and that just frustrates the poor guy to no end, as he was pretty close to getting out of just the lap belt.
On the way to and from the school, Katy is trying to memorize the way there and back. It's not hard, however she does ask me to draw her a map for the first few days of school. I told her that I would walk with the kids the first few days (I'm thinking the first week, tops) until I know they know the way. Katy will be walking with James and Jayden to school, and just James on the way home, if Jayden is attending morning class, which I hope that she is, which I need to mention to the school when I call tomorrow to verify receipt of said papers from before. I will be walking there to get Jayden from class in the middle of the day, and doing a check up on James at the same time.
Realizing that the Horde will be walking back and forth to school means that they are going to need so many more things for school than I had planned on. They will be walking in fair and foul weather alike. No rides from me for them as Jason leaves for work very early in the morning, long before we will even be awake most likely. I am not going to get everyone up super early to keep the van on the chance that it might rain to be able to drive the kids to school. I walked when I was a kid, so can they. They are going to need umbrellas and raincoats, and probably some kind of rain boot. For winter they will be outfitted to the gills as well with scarves, mittens, hats, coats, boots, and snowpants.
We leave the school and cross the street where the crossing guard will be standing come the school year. Katy is talking to herself about how that is where the crossing guard will be and wants to know why they HAVE to cross there and not down the block at the light. I tell her because people get tickets for running red lights, but go to jail for going through a crossing guard. I'm not quite sure this is true, however it is sufficient of an answer for her.
We go in to the store. I want to pick up something for myself for lunch, and something for the Horde (including the youngest) if possible. I have just over $13 to use. We pass the Little Debbie display. MMMMM.....chocolate chip cremes...much like the oatmeal cremes. Yes, definately a box of those, Jason will like them for work as well. Over to frozen foods. Yeah, they have the Buffalo Wings that I like. 2 boxes of those. The 2 boxes of wings is about $7. The cookies are just over $1. Ooooh, pizza rolls would be perfect for the Horde for lunch. The bag is almost $4. At this point, my brain forgets how to do basic math, thankfully, I have an almost 5th grader along with me.
"Katy, how much is 7 plus 4?"
"11 Mommy"
"Are you sure? It's not 12?"
"Um, no, it's 11"
"Really?"
"Uh yeah. 6 plus 4 is 10 and 7 is 1 more than 6 so you add 1 to 10 and you have 11"
"OK, I'm trusting you, but I swear it's 12"
We get to the check out. I hold back the cookies, as I think I won't be able to get them, but I still want them and I want to see what my total is. It was just over $11. Hey, they really did teach Katy stuff in school! Moral of the story there is to always have a 5th grader with you when you need to do math.
We leave the store and walk to the house in the way that I want the Horde to walk back and forth to school. It's a very simple way to go. It is a little longer, but not enough to make much difference, and there is little to no traffic, so it's MUCH safer, especially with the child who can't follow his own rules along for the walk. This is when Katy asks for a map. She can remember what 7 plus 4 is but can't remember how to get home from school?
On Wednesday we have 2 errands to run. We need to go to the Dept. of Water to have it transferred in to my name and go to Dollar General to pick up some basic school supplies for Katy, as she is the only one that still needs a back pack and that kind of thing. Both of these places are also a relatively short walk from our house, in the opposite direction of the school.
Once again, Izzy goes in to the stroller, however starting off with the shoulder straps on, which he promptly becomes upset with. It stormed the night before, so his stroller was a bit wet, so we put a blanket in his seat so he doesn't become soaked on our journey. It is much warmer than the day before, so everyone is in shorts and tees where the day before they were in jeans and sweatshirts. Izzy goes barefoot, his preferred state it seems.
We walk the 1/2 mile or so to the Water Dept. Building. We all go inside. I fill out the application to have the water put in my name. The Horde sits on the long couch while I do this. Izzy tries to climb out of his stroller and gets very upset that he can't manage it. James calls to him like a puppy, by making kissy sounds and saying "here baby baby baby", even after being told to stop. Jayden is annoying Katy by rubbing her head (which was shaved on Tuesday evening, a story all of it's own) and touching her, and it's hot and sticky outside so I am getting annoyed with them all. It takes 10 minutes for them to put my name in the computer and for us to pay the deposit and leave.
A block away is Dollar General. James and Jayden begin talking about all the things that they want to get for school. I promptly inform them that they don't need anything like I am buying and they aren't getting a thing. Jayden begins to cry a little and James definately pouts. Katy giggles.
We buy folders, pencils, mechanical pencils, a couple of decorative pens, some notebooks, memo pads, a note pad shaped like a K, a dictionary/thesaraus, and a back pack for katy. James and Jayden each get a goofy pen and a small note pad. And we pick up mini pizzas for lunch. All told, we spent less than $50.
As we walk home, I begin to hear the many complaints about how hot it is (and it was) and how they all want a drink of water when we get home, and then they begin to argue over who gets to have a drink first. And all the while I am thinking to myself "I have to work tonight". For Thursday, we aren't doing anything. We are staying home. Jason put the a/c units back in to the downstairs windows (we took them out while it was super cold out) and we are vegging out. In the evening, I am meeting a friend at the mall to have a girls' night out, though it won't be a late night. Just some time with a grown up and I'm not running errands by myself or going to work or doing anything with the kids. Sounds like heaven, doesn't it?
Monday, August 20, 2007
my very first time...
No, you pervs, my very first blog. Sure, I've done this on MySpace, but hasn't everyone? I thought I'd give this a try. Use it as a venue for my rants, my raves, my projects, to toot the horn of me and my darling heathen horde. Ah yes, THEM. My horde, the heathens that I spawned. There is Katy Beth who is 9 1/2 and I swear going on 20. James who is 8 1/2 and the man with the issues galore, we see the doc for him more than when I was pregnant all times combined! Jayden, my darling 5 year old drama queen. Yes, she has a "boys" name, but so did I as a child. And Izzy, the baby. Though Jason and I are putting forth a concentrated effort to usurp him from that post! Yes, ANOTHER! Yes, we are insane. Yes, we know how they are made. Yes, we CAN care for them all. Once I get the hang of this blog thing, I'll post pics and videos and what not.
First, let me tell you about my day today. I slept late, very very late. Oops. The kids allowed me to do just that. Why? Well, so they could play video games of coarse. After all, those coveted games are VERY regulated, and while school is not in session, if they awake before me, as they often do (I still find 6 in the morning MUCH too early) they are allowed to play those tantelizing bits of graphics and story as long as there is no arguing and they leave them when I awaken. So they leave me to sleep. On a normal day, I am awake and up around 9. Not today. Jason came home at 11:45 to bring me the van for errands this afternoon and found me still in blissful slumber. HEATHENS! Not even the baby woke me, as he has taken to sleeping late himself with teething and all.
So I scramble to get myself somewhat dressed, and everyone to have jackets and shoes so we can make it out the door and all in the van to get jason back to work on time. We all come home. I feed everyone, myself included. Have them all get dressed. James wants to wear shorts. It's 65 outside. I tell him to go change. "Change what?" "Your pants" "I don't have any pants". I know for a fact that this is inaccurate because I am the one that hung the pants on the hangers and Jason is the one who took them upstairs and put them in the boys' closet. "Yes you do, go look in your closet" He walks away mumbling about pants and shorts and why does it matter, yada yada yada.
"Katy, comb your hair and stop licking your lips"
"Jayden, put on your jacket."
"Katy, please go get an outfit for Izzy while I get myself dressed"
She brings me a pair of pants (at least SHE was paying attention to the weather) and a shirt that is supposed to be worn with an undershirt. I send her back up to get the undershirt. And a onesie, which she tells me that Izzy has none clean. (Yes he does, Jason put on one him after his bath tonight).
Jayden starts crying because as she is putting on her shoes, per usual, she puts them on the the WRONG feet, why can't she get it? She's 5 after all. It should be 2nd nature by now. James tells her "Jayden, that's the wrong foot" and it's a HUGE crying jag. She then asks Katy to verify that yes, it is the wrong foot, and Katy tells her this is fact, and Jayden starts to cry even harder. I can FEEL the headache coming on. This is a clue to how my afternoon will go, I just don't realize it yet.
OK, everyone is dressed, Izzy has no shoes because he has outgrown them since the last time he wore them. He hasn't needed them in MONTHS because of the warm weather. So on Friday, I get to take all 4 Heathens to Payless because of BOGO (buy one get one) and as I'm buying FOUR pair of shoes (the youngest three need tennis shoes, Katy needs some kind of dress shoe), I might as well get them as cheap as possible, yes? Now imagine me at Payless with all four kids. Jason must go with us on this kind of adventure. Why? Well, it takes James and Jayden about 2 minutes to find the shoes they like. It takes me about 7 minutes to find shoes that I like and that fit Izzy, it takes Katy 20 minutes just to decide what KIND of shoe she likes, let alone an acutal pair. While I am suggesting things to Katy, and slowly but ever so surely losing patience with the pickiness, Jason wrangles the middle two while I hold Izzy and allow him to chew his new shoes or the box or whatever he can get his pudgey little hands on.
Anyway, everyone gets in to the van. Katy needs to remember to close the slider on her side after the middle two get in, which she needs to be reminded of, EVERY TIME. James must help Jayden do the straps of her carseat up while I am fastening Izzy in to his, which he complains about, EVERY TIME.
Ok, everyone is fastened and we are off. We head to the Admin building for the school district. We recently moved and we need to enroll the oldest three in the new district. James receives special ed services for his issues, and the other two are in regular "main stream" classes. Well, come to find out, I can't enroll the girls at the Admin building because the schools are now open (though not in class until after labor day) so I have to go to the school to enroll them, however we leave James' info there so the woman who handles special ed enrollment can look his stuff over. While I am talking with the woman about enrolling the kids and where they will be going, Izzy is chewing on James shoe. Apparently, James thought it was ok to give him a dirty shoe to chew on. I tell James to put his shoe back on. Katy is full of questions. She MUST know the plan for the day, step by every little step. Jayden is laughing at James because Izzy is climbing on him and pulling his hair. James starts to yell.
We leave the Admin building, all pile back in to the van, and head to the doc office for Jayden's annual physcial. She finds out she has to get her finger poked and here come the tears. She finds out she needs a shot, and she is just balling, unwilling to be calmed. Bribery of a popscicle once we get home only goes so far. She pees in the cup, gets her finger poked, gets her blood pressure, weight, height, her shot, and TWO stickers for the cause. It took an hour. All the while, James and Katy are goofing off and Izzy is sitting there making noise and doing things to get the other two's attention. Katy and James are sharing a chair because there are only 3 in the office and Izzy has one of his own. Then James goes to sit with Izzy and complains and yells when Izzy butts his head, pulls his hair, pokes his eye, nose and mouth, and kicks and hits him.
All done there, so we all pile back in to the van to go to my work. I work as a server at Denny's of all places. I work 3 nights a week. I work overnights on Fridays and Saturdays and then only the evenings on the other nights. This past weekend I was scheduled for 17 hours between Fri. and Sat. nights. I haven't worked, standing on my feet like this, in 5 years. I HURT when I get home. I'll get used to it. Do I NEED to work? Well, no, not really. It helps us out, so I do it. Jason works Mon-Fri during the day. Anyway, we go to my work for a mandatory meeting. I learn NOTHING new. We are late to pick Jason up from work.
This was my day. Tomorrow, I get to walk with the kids down to the girls' (and possibly James' too) school to enroll them. I am hoping to go to the gym tomorrow evening, just as some time to myself, doing something for myself.
Are they great kids? Yes. Are they a handful. Oh absolutely. I know that life would be so much more quiet if they weren't around, but I think it'd also be so much more dull.
Right now, I am working on painting the girls' bedroom. It was supposed to be a project that took a week at the most, it's now going on it's 2nd. Why? Well...I started washing the walls to get them ready for the paint. There were a couple of air bubbles near the window that I was going to remove, after all, I was repainting, those spots really wouldn't be noticed. When I removed the air bubble, a HUGE piece of the paint came up. Um, that's NOT supposed to happen. The paint has pretty much stopped sticking to the wall. Oh fun. So I strip it all. Well, right now I only have 2/3 of the room stripped. And underneath the paint is a layer of dust. Broken down paint is my guess. So I need to scrape off the dust, then wash the walls very well and then tape them off and THEN paint, and the room will need TWO coats now because the color that the walls strips down to is grey. The top paint color is white. Someone primered over wall paper with grey paint. The wall paper is holding the plaster underneath together.
Katy really wants to help paint. What I can't seem to explain to her in a way she will understand is that she really wouldn't be much of a help. Yes, she did help strip the walls of the paint. However, her picking up a roller and painting the wall will only be more mess. The child is CLUMSY. The LAST thing I need is for her to step in the paint, or knock it over in some way, and have pinkish peach paint all over the carpet. Oh, and I've decided to add stencils to the top of their walls, to make it "prettier" I guess. Why do I do these things to myself? I made a small project in to a MUCH bigger one just by prepping the wall. And I know the girls will most likely NOT appreciate it, let alone thank me for it. Who knows, I may be pleasently surprised by that, but I doubt it.
First, let me tell you about my day today. I slept late, very very late. Oops. The kids allowed me to do just that. Why? Well, so they could play video games of coarse. After all, those coveted games are VERY regulated, and while school is not in session, if they awake before me, as they often do (I still find 6 in the morning MUCH too early) they are allowed to play those tantelizing bits of graphics and story as long as there is no arguing and they leave them when I awaken. So they leave me to sleep. On a normal day, I am awake and up around 9. Not today. Jason came home at 11:45 to bring me the van for errands this afternoon and found me still in blissful slumber. HEATHENS! Not even the baby woke me, as he has taken to sleeping late himself with teething and all.
So I scramble to get myself somewhat dressed, and everyone to have jackets and shoes so we can make it out the door and all in the van to get jason back to work on time. We all come home. I feed everyone, myself included. Have them all get dressed. James wants to wear shorts. It's 65 outside. I tell him to go change. "Change what?" "Your pants" "I don't have any pants". I know for a fact that this is inaccurate because I am the one that hung the pants on the hangers and Jason is the one who took them upstairs and put them in the boys' closet. "Yes you do, go look in your closet" He walks away mumbling about pants and shorts and why does it matter, yada yada yada.
"Katy, comb your hair and stop licking your lips"
"Jayden, put on your jacket."
"Katy, please go get an outfit for Izzy while I get myself dressed"
She brings me a pair of pants (at least SHE was paying attention to the weather) and a shirt that is supposed to be worn with an undershirt. I send her back up to get the undershirt. And a onesie, which she tells me that Izzy has none clean. (Yes he does, Jason put on one him after his bath tonight).
Jayden starts crying because as she is putting on her shoes, per usual, she puts them on the the WRONG feet, why can't she get it? She's 5 after all. It should be 2nd nature by now. James tells her "Jayden, that's the wrong foot" and it's a HUGE crying jag. She then asks Katy to verify that yes, it is the wrong foot, and Katy tells her this is fact, and Jayden starts to cry even harder. I can FEEL the headache coming on. This is a clue to how my afternoon will go, I just don't realize it yet.
OK, everyone is dressed, Izzy has no shoes because he has outgrown them since the last time he wore them. He hasn't needed them in MONTHS because of the warm weather. So on Friday, I get to take all 4 Heathens to Payless because of BOGO (buy one get one) and as I'm buying FOUR pair of shoes (the youngest three need tennis shoes, Katy needs some kind of dress shoe), I might as well get them as cheap as possible, yes? Now imagine me at Payless with all four kids. Jason must go with us on this kind of adventure. Why? Well, it takes James and Jayden about 2 minutes to find the shoes they like. It takes me about 7 minutes to find shoes that I like and that fit Izzy, it takes Katy 20 minutes just to decide what KIND of shoe she likes, let alone an acutal pair. While I am suggesting things to Katy, and slowly but ever so surely losing patience with the pickiness, Jason wrangles the middle two while I hold Izzy and allow him to chew his new shoes or the box or whatever he can get his pudgey little hands on.
Anyway, everyone gets in to the van. Katy needs to remember to close the slider on her side after the middle two get in, which she needs to be reminded of, EVERY TIME. James must help Jayden do the straps of her carseat up while I am fastening Izzy in to his, which he complains about, EVERY TIME.
Ok, everyone is fastened and we are off. We head to the Admin building for the school district. We recently moved and we need to enroll the oldest three in the new district. James receives special ed services for his issues, and the other two are in regular "main stream" classes. Well, come to find out, I can't enroll the girls at the Admin building because the schools are now open (though not in class until after labor day) so I have to go to the school to enroll them, however we leave James' info there so the woman who handles special ed enrollment can look his stuff over. While I am talking with the woman about enrolling the kids and where they will be going, Izzy is chewing on James shoe. Apparently, James thought it was ok to give him a dirty shoe to chew on. I tell James to put his shoe back on. Katy is full of questions. She MUST know the plan for the day, step by every little step. Jayden is laughing at James because Izzy is climbing on him and pulling his hair. James starts to yell.
We leave the Admin building, all pile back in to the van, and head to the doc office for Jayden's annual physcial. She finds out she has to get her finger poked and here come the tears. She finds out she needs a shot, and she is just balling, unwilling to be calmed. Bribery of a popscicle once we get home only goes so far. She pees in the cup, gets her finger poked, gets her blood pressure, weight, height, her shot, and TWO stickers for the cause. It took an hour. All the while, James and Katy are goofing off and Izzy is sitting there making noise and doing things to get the other two's attention. Katy and James are sharing a chair because there are only 3 in the office and Izzy has one of his own. Then James goes to sit with Izzy and complains and yells when Izzy butts his head, pulls his hair, pokes his eye, nose and mouth, and kicks and hits him.
All done there, so we all pile back in to the van to go to my work. I work as a server at Denny's of all places. I work 3 nights a week. I work overnights on Fridays and Saturdays and then only the evenings on the other nights. This past weekend I was scheduled for 17 hours between Fri. and Sat. nights. I haven't worked, standing on my feet like this, in 5 years. I HURT when I get home. I'll get used to it. Do I NEED to work? Well, no, not really. It helps us out, so I do it. Jason works Mon-Fri during the day. Anyway, we go to my work for a mandatory meeting. I learn NOTHING new. We are late to pick Jason up from work.
This was my day. Tomorrow, I get to walk with the kids down to the girls' (and possibly James' too) school to enroll them. I am hoping to go to the gym tomorrow evening, just as some time to myself, doing something for myself.
Are they great kids? Yes. Are they a handful. Oh absolutely. I know that life would be so much more quiet if they weren't around, but I think it'd also be so much more dull.
Right now, I am working on painting the girls' bedroom. It was supposed to be a project that took a week at the most, it's now going on it's 2nd. Why? Well...I started washing the walls to get them ready for the paint. There were a couple of air bubbles near the window that I was going to remove, after all, I was repainting, those spots really wouldn't be noticed. When I removed the air bubble, a HUGE piece of the paint came up. Um, that's NOT supposed to happen. The paint has pretty much stopped sticking to the wall. Oh fun. So I strip it all. Well, right now I only have 2/3 of the room stripped. And underneath the paint is a layer of dust. Broken down paint is my guess. So I need to scrape off the dust, then wash the walls very well and then tape them off and THEN paint, and the room will need TWO coats now because the color that the walls strips down to is grey. The top paint color is white. Someone primered over wall paper with grey paint. The wall paper is holding the plaster underneath together.
Katy really wants to help paint. What I can't seem to explain to her in a way she will understand is that she really wouldn't be much of a help. Yes, she did help strip the walls of the paint. However, her picking up a roller and painting the wall will only be more mess. The child is CLUMSY. The LAST thing I need is for her to step in the paint, or knock it over in some way, and have pinkish peach paint all over the carpet. Oh, and I've decided to add stencils to the top of their walls, to make it "prettier" I guess. Why do I do these things to myself? I made a small project in to a MUCH bigger one just by prepping the wall. And I know the girls will most likely NOT appreciate it, let alone thank me for it. Who knows, I may be pleasently surprised by that, but I doubt it.
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