Funny things kids say

Princess: I read somewhere that not all spider eggs survive. Some of them break or get eaten, and some get eaten by other spiders.

Me: Yep, that way the strong spiders stay alive and kill the weak ones, so spiders can be strong and eat lots of bugs.

Princess: Well, when Freida was little, she was weak but I didn't eat her.

Me: [long double take, before a laugh so long and hard that my throat hurt afterward]

Me: Oh, that's going in the blog.

The New Year

I havn't often made New Year resolutions, simply because I was too afraid of failure. You can't fail if you never try, right?

This is the attitude I've been struggling with for most of my life. And then, after years of frustration and depression, I'm finally realizing that there is something out there that is far worse than failure.

Letting my life pass me by while I cower away from opportunity and enjoyment has been my keenest regret of the last ten years. There are so many friends whom I may have enjoyed so much more if I had only been brave enough to try to include them in my life. There are so many adventures I might have had if only I had made one brave or outgoing gesture.

The results of this exclusionary attitude have been a lot of loneliness, a lot of guilt, and more negative energy than I can admit to without deep embarrassment.

Along with this contemplation, and a lot of discussions with Man over money, I've realized too that I tend to be an all-or-nothing, binary kind of person. We're either saving money, or spending. The house is either super clean, or a little gross. The laundry is either done entirely with all outfits matched, or piling listlessly on my patient couch. Along with this philosophy comes an extraordinary ability to justify, rationalize, excuse, and whine when my efforts to do laundry or clean are undone in the very moment I consider the job to be "done".

So why am I making goals now?

Months of working out both in my home and at the gym resulted in weight gain. "What's the point of that???" I raged both in my mind and to anyone who would listen. Then I realized that it was my habit of grazing all day long and making poor nutrition choices that was shooting me in the foot.

I wrote most of a book this past November and I've been reluctant to go back and revise or even finish the poor thing. November is over, I got my word count, I won NaNoWriMo, my goal was accomplished. These excuses float about my subconscious every time I select an activity for the evening, and I usually end up watching movies or Dick Van Dyke.

And et cetera.

If there is any lesson I want to learn from the Army, it's that each moment of my life is the one I really have to enjoy. Before I know it, places we've lived and friends I've known are suddenly gone, and I'll regret not savoring Cupcake's and Marcie's and Crazy Jo's for the rest of my life.

With that in mind, I selected some areas of my life where I've become either lazy or afraid. I've made clear broad goals along with subcategories of goals that I know for sure I can succeed at with even moderate amounts of effort.

Health:
-- Exercise at least 5 times a week. (which is something I've been good with for months -- is it cheating to start out with a goal I'm already good at? I don't think so)
-- Take better care of my fingernails. (one of my silliest habits is to chew on the skin around my fingernails. Fixing this bad habit can soothe my poor vanity pretty quickly.)
-- Eat moderately and with intent to nourish. (Genuinely nourishing food, eaten at the table and not in front of a screen or while reading. Also, I'm keeping track of my nutrition on SparkPeople so I can tell if I'm getting enough of the vitamins I'm most concerned with.)

Organization:
-- Be a better gatekeeper. (If I don't love it or use it, it doesn't belong in my home)
-- If I can't bring myself to plan a week's worth of meals at a time, at least decide what tomorrow's meals will be. (Better planning = less stress, even if it isn't fancy.)

Developing my talents:
-- Write at least 2 hours each week.

Spirituality:
-- Read scriptures for 20 mins a day.
-- Notice and appreciate positive and wonderful things.



It looks like a lot, but most of these things take a couple of minutes a day at most, and the fingernail thing is just a matter of leaving them the heck alone.

What are you doing to celebrate the new year?

hats

We like goofy hats.

Amazon

(Yes, mom, you aren't going crazy, we already had this conversation)

Dear Mom and Dad,

Please be advised that I have sent a box to you from Amazon to supplement what you've already received.

As you know, Amazon has a benefit called Free Super Saver Shipping. If you spend $25 on qualifying items, you will get free shipping on your order, no matter how many boxes it requires to send it. I figured the cost of the things I'm sending and the total was $24.76.

A Google search revealed a list of items on Amazon which qualify for Free Super Saver Shipping with prices ranging from $0.25 to $5.

Be further advised that, in addition to the items intended as Christmas gifts, you will also receive a box of Jumbo Plastic Coated Paper Clips. I don't care what you do with the d*** paper clips.

The order will come in two shipments, as the items become available. Everything will arrive before Christmas except the paper clips, which will come in January some time. I hope you have a Merry Holiday, despite the tardiness of the d*** paper clips.

Be finally advised that you may receive more office supplies or bits of hardware on other gift giving occasions, should they be needed to fluff my cart in the future as well.

Love always,

Annie

Why men take 5 mins in a store, and women take 5 hours.

Link.

An evolutionary link to why women like to shop. Funny, and it sounds plausible.

Shoulder

It's been a few days since Saturday, but we're still processing the good thing that happened and what it means.

So, our bishop knows a guy who is a doctor of sports medicine. It just so happens that this guy is also the inventor of a machine that helps heal pitcher's shoulders when they get out of whack. It's a variant of frozen shoulder.

He took Man down to this man's office Sat morning where Man got to use this machine first with his left (and fine) shoulder, and then with his right shoulder. He said it was a very difficult thing to do, to manipulate the machine appropriately when his shoulder wasn't behaving the way it should.

So he came home a bit sore but was otherwise almost pain-free.

He still has some pain from a torn tendon, but the torn tendon is treatable with exercises and time now that this other pain has been taken care of.

It's a flippin' miracle is what it is. He's able to move his shoulder in ways he just couldn't before, and can now even sleep on that side again (whereas he wasn't even able to sleep on his back without pain).

I havn't seen him smile this much in years and a good bit of the depression he was experiencing has eased. It's just such a relief to see him laughing again, and not getting upset when someone accidentally bumps into him.

So, we're all in a much better mood with this sigh of relief.

I'm so close that it's maddening

I've got this novel, see? And it's supposed to be at least 50,000 words long.

I have over 48 k words written out in Open Office, but as soon as I switch the text over the Microsoft Word, my word count drops by over 1k.

Ack!!!!!!!

So, I still have the whole ending to write, where I get to figure out the bad guy's fate, and the good guy'ses [sic] rest of their lives (short? long? who knows. not me) and I guess I'll just have to keep writing until the end comes.

But, I'd also like to know the definite moment where I hit 50k words for real so I can breathe a bit more easily. Entering my text into the NaNoWriMo website brings up a word count that matches MS Word, so they think I'm 1k behind as well.

Poo.

And yet, there are much greater things in life I could be worried about right now.

I admit that it has been nice to get immersed in a story so totally different than my own, and yet so incredibly like it in some ways. It puts some perspective into my life, and vice versa, as I watch words pop up onto a page almost by themselves. My labor is to listen closely and refine where I can.

I have until Monday evening to finish this up, and I will get the word count. But I just don't know if the end will have real closure before then.

After all, I really want to see this bad guy squirm, but it doesn't always work out that way, does it?

Turkey Day

We had some friends and missionaries over. It doesn't look like much from the pic, but it was a lot of work.

Rolls
Turkey
Scalloped Corn
Sweet potatoes baked with granny smith apples (Thanks for the recipe, CG! It tasted like pie)
Cranberry sauce
Mashed sweet potatoes with toasted marshmallows (this recipe, but I didn't add milk, butter, half the sugar, and only half the vanilla. Tasty!!!)
Mashed taters
Gravy
Green bean casserole (with roasted mushrooms)


This is the first year where we havn't had many leftovers at all. The only things we had left from the turkey were the drumsticks and two cups of extra meat. I guess it's a good thing we have those other two turkeys people gave us. Man is happy to be eating turkey well into the new year.

Not shown:
Pumpkin pie
Cherry pie
Brownies
PB brownies
Homemade whipped cream.


I was on the bike twice today, even with moderate portions. The carbs!!!

Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving.

Novel

Now, it's interesting to write a novel.

I grew up reading some really great stuff. Tolkein, R A Salvatore, Raymond E Feist, and countless other novels in the fantasy and sci-fi genres consumed much of my adolescence. These books seemed so surprising and complex, with characters I could really believe and feel for. It seemed like each person in those books was a living, breathing person who could knock on my door at any moment.

I'm over 31,000 words into my book and things are, indeed, getting complicated. I have three threads going right now (two major, one minor) but I have many of the machinations of several different warring peoples ruminating aside from those.

Next time, a thorough outline is an absolute must. I'm a bit lost and feeling like my people aren't alive quite yet. I often catch myself writing a scene only to suddenly realize that someone did something they shouldn't have done, by their very nature. I have to give each person credit for at least the sense God gave billy goats. That makes things a whole lot less convenient from a development standpoint.

As I stump through the wilderness of a new world that I'm giving birth to even as I gestate it, I realize that honesty in writing is very hard. Writing what is real is hard. Someone gets a splinter, but do we care? Someone swims for twelve hours in an ocean, and is it worth noting that their clothing is salt crusted and they can never stand the taste of fish for the rest of their life?

-sigh- I often wonder what I got myself into. I'm over my head as I reach for the level of riveting involvement some of my favorite authors can invoke, but I don't have the tools or expertise to pull it off yet.

But I'm going to finish. I may be plodding along right now but I think I have enough story in me to get to the goal this year. Brian, you'll very likely win the word count war, but I'll be ecstatic just to get to the fifty thousand mark.

And then I'm going to sit down and rewrite the entire damn thing.


PS, I feel like a middle school kid for getting all excited over this, but my heroine just found the foundation of her learning experience and is now fumbling around, trying to make sense of it. And it involved getting her first kiss.

Squee!!!

Not for the faint of stomach

This page grossed me out, hardcore.

Thanks, Romeo.


http://thisiswhyyourefat.com/

whining

Tag: Mom, why do you keep making food I hate?

Me: Why do you keeping hating the food I make?

Tonight's dinner is homemade chicken soup with cheddar drop biscuits.

YUM!!!!

Unless your pseudonym is Tag.

autumn

The kids keep asking me when winter will officially be here. I've had to explain that, even though there are dates on the calendar that declare when a season officially starts, nature doesn't pay much attention to that sort of thing. It's been drippy here, and the leaves are mostly off the trees. We have yet to get a really solid freeze, if one at all, but I'm ok with autumn for a while longer. It feels appropriate the my first real fall in a few years would linger.

(novel update: 22k+ words and still have plenty of plot to go. I'm feeling good about getting to 50k by the end of the month.)

Aha!

So, I've been looking at my NoNoWriMo progress graph, wondering why I can exceed my daily goals only to have the little calendar on the right give me a little red square. That's confusing.

Until I realized that I had been reading the graph wrong. Oops!! Compare my actual word count with the line on the right, not on the left. Got it.

So, you should be seeing more green squares in coming days. It's red for today so far, but the day ain't over yet. The counter below it is more up to date, so look at that one first.

Poll

Don't forget to vote in my new poll.

I'm curious to see how many introverted friend I have. :)

Testing some more

It seems that light red means I was slightly under my daily goal. Light green means I exceeded my goal. Dark red and green indicate increased values of their lighter iterations.

(by the way, I'm up to 10,031 words. I don't know why the above doohicky isn't updating.)

Testing

Ft Hood

Our thoughts and prayers go out to Major Hasan, his family, and everyone affected by yesterday's tragedy.

Novel

I don't know that I've ever counted words in any paper I've written.

But, I'm up to over 8,000 words, and they take up about 11 pages (of the 8.5x11" persuasion)

I've learned that I should have done some prewriting for this, like a thorough outline, and some description of peoples and terrain. Also, naming characters and figuring out who they are as you go isn't easy.

I'm also having trouble figuring out exactly where chapters should start and stop. Developing a sense for how to place all of this stuff is going to take some real work.

But I'm doing it, for the first time. I've started books as a younger person but I was too embarrassed to work on them for long. I've finally learned that I don't have to be embarrassed at my own fantasies. The book exists simply to express them, not to judge me for them.

And that's kinda fun.

The working title is "Kuma's Gift".

potholder, part II

I feel I must mention that this is the picture that caught my breath. It's the one in the upper left.

And here is the pattern for it, if you want to make it.

For those who don't pursue the stringed arts, this is known as a "stash buster", or an item that can be made from all of the bits and ends of yarn left over from previous projects. That's why the pattern is called "wool eater".

And, Crusty Cupcake left a comment saying that it looks decorative. I totally agree. I can see this being a trivet piece at best, and possibly framed if you come up with stunning color combinations like these ladies did. The favorite materials for these are natural fibers such as cotton or wool, and wool does not like to get washed after getting dirty. If you do, you'll have a Barbie sized potholder.

potholder

The most beautiful potholder I've ever seen.

Thanksgiving and comfort items

On Sunday, we took away Freida's pacifier.

She isn't quite 2 yet, but it seemed like it was far past time for her to be done with it. There's never a really happy time of life to take away something that helps you sleep, or feel better after a traumatic event.

Her first nap was, of course, a tragedy of Greek proportions. She does fine at night but during the day she just won't settle down without a fight. She had a very specific recipe for slumber during daylight hours which included a couple of special blankets, a pacifier, a fistful of her own hair, and recently she's added this little stuffed seahorse that plays classical music. The absence of any one of these things meant an exhaustive hunt for the missing object before nap time could occur.

Oh, well.

I finally found the last pacifier today, behind her crib. I quickly put it in my pocket but I think she heard its familiar clacking noise which comes from being coupled with a pacifier keeper. I took it out to the kitchen and considered putting it back in the silverware drawer, where we keep them. After an internal struggle, I put it in the trash. It felt like a loss.

All of the other kids gave up napping when their pacifiers left, except for Tag who never would take one. Princess stopped at the tender age of 13 months, far before I was ready for her to be awake all day long. I don't even remember when we took Pebbles', but she immediately latched onto her blanket which is still her favorite comfort item.

Freida says "wadder" now instead of "waher". She also says "whassat?" and "where go?" and "neeth" (please) and "dank you". She scoots chairs around and turns lights on and off and has taken to drawing on my walls. I just received a wall touchup kit from a nice maintenance man so I can cover up about 6 square feet of permanent marker damage.

Anyway, I'm putting together a mini cookbook of what I'll be making for Thanksgiving this year. We're inviting friends and any family in the area on over and cooking up a big tom turkey.

Recipes on the list:

Stuffed Mushrooms
Brined Turkey (if you use this brine, only use about 1 cup of sugar)
Roasted Squash
Mashed potatoes
Homemade cranberry sauce

We have friends bringing rolls and a couple of pies. I'll likely get some whipping cream for that.

NaNoWriMo

Ok, I'm finally taking the plunge.

NaNoWriMo.

I just got a registration email that assures me that NaNoWriMo loves me.

None of you may ever hear even a breath of what I write this month, but let's hear it for an exercise in pure output.

Halloween

Rainbow Princess:


This one wouldn't hold still long enough for a face shot. She was supposed to be a she-devil. The red dress had her sold on sight.

My depressed Firefighter.

A little mermaid. It was too cold to go sleeveless.

coming up for air

I have been wondering about this blog as a means of self exploration. It seems awfully boring to present some of my meandering introspection to all of you, while you all wait for the punch line.

So, I'll meander and then give you a funny bathroom story.

I started playing this game, Aion, with my husband. It was going to be a great way to spend time with him in a way he felt really connected with. We could set goals together, explore together, discover a new world together, and feel satisfied that our relationship had ambition and success.

We participated in the closed beta, and then open beta, and finally the game launched in late August. It was a lot of fun. We were part of a great guild that a friend of mine recommended. I became popular in my various roles in the guild.

Then I started to notice that family dinners were harder to put together. I needed to be crafting online. Sometimes the kids would go back to school without having done their homework, but there were forts that needed to be defended. The two little girls started to be glued to laps or otherwise acting out for lack of attention, but levels needed to be grinded. Finally, Tag's medicine ran out but I couldn't quite find the time to get it refilled, because... and that's when something inside of me snapped.

I hadn't written in almost 4 months (besides a stupid nothing update), it was getting to be harder to find time with friends, and the gym was becoming less imperative to me. Not only that, but I spent less face time with my husband while sitting directly beside him for hours on end, than when I never touched games at all.

So I quit.

It was interesting to lay my reasons for quitting before Man, and wonder what his reaction would be. After the money, time, and spending the energy to build guild relationships, it seemed wasteful to just set it all aside. But I compared it to a Reece's PB cup in my hand. I could either eat it, or throw it away. In either case it would be gone, but I know which decision will help me feel better about myself at the end of the day.

Sometimes I wonder if quitting was the right answer. There were many other solutions I could have chosen, like only playing certain nights of the week. Or only playing on long weekends. I could also just limit my game time to when the kids are in bed. However, my best intentions were foiled by my tendency toward laziness.

So, this past Sunday, I gave away many thousands of kinah worth in crafting supplies, sent all my remaining money to Man, and signed off with a thank you to a great guild.

In the mean time, I've had a lot of time to wonder what it is I do with my time. It seemed so important to me that I was willing to quit an epic journey for it, but now I feel lost all over again. Now that we're all over strep and a possible bout of swine flu (exposure to confirmed case, followed by illness strongly resembling said flu) I'm back in the gym and I've even started a new short story I'm excited about. But what about the rest of my day?

I've caught up on this season of Bones, House, The Office, Castle, and 30 Rock. Believe it or not, it only took two days. My dishes are once again done (thanks to my marvelous mother, who came to visit) and I'm back in the habit of cooking every night.

So I twiddle my thumbs and again wonder "now what?" over and over as I slowly go through the house and correct things bit by bit.

There are a few things I'd like to do with my life that I hadn't even thought about attempting before Aion, like actually participating in NaNoWriMo (in the privacy of my own computer though, none of this entering things online for anyone else to see garbage) and there's still the matter of this college application that's hanging in limbo. Also, my food storage plan is a lot easier to gauge now that Raul is on the scene. He's doing a marvelous job of keeping cans organized for me, and letting me know when it's time to get new supplies. All I do is glance at each can's intake. If I can't see old cans, it's time to get new.

Domestic matters are always calling, as well, like upcoming Halloween. My kids' minds seem to change all the time concerning their costumes. Tag has wanted to be Dash, a police officer, and a few other things that don't come to mind right away. Princess wants to be a Snow Princess, Pebbles wants to be whatever she last heard a sibling say they wanted to be, and Freida just likes candy. So, that needs to be taken care of.

The day I quit, Man looked troubled and grumpy. I was terribly worried that he was mad at me, but I clung to the assurance that I knew for sure I had made the right decision. Later that night, he hugged me and said he was proud of me, for making a tough decision that was right for me. That felt good.

Anyway, let's get back to the bathroom story.

I was out at lunch with my mom at this grill sports bar place when the Call of Nature became insistent. The bathroom there smelled surprisingly sterile, as if something had wiped the whole place down with undiluted bleach and then not rinsed.

They have these toilets with the bowls that have a very slight grade to them. I always worry about some splash back from that sort but I try not to think about it too much. Someone else came into the bathroom, hacking up a juicy lung on her way to the handicapped stall. I winced, thinking about how that was the first thing I did upon entering the bathroom since I didn't want the diners at large to know I was ill.

I completed what I came to do, and wasn't paying attention to where I dropped my toilet paper. It ended up close to the rim. I flushed, but the water failed to remove my papery evidence at all. I flushed again, blushing that the Sick Person might hear that I was having a problem in my stall only two doors down.

What are your options at that point? There was no Instrument of Toilet Correction and Cleaning available, and under no circumstances was I going to be putting my hands into a public toilet, laden with bleach or not. There was only one thing I could do, and that would be to run.

I opened my stall door, ready to dash for the exit, when I heard the bathroom door open. I quickly closed my door, hoping she didn't see me. If I had run at that point, I would have risked her seeing that my toilet bowl still had paper in it, and then she'd think I was some sort of slob. After hearing her run to the last available stall, I quickly left my stall, agonized over the time it takes to thoroughly wash ones hands and properly vacate a restroom without touching anything else unless you have a paper towel barrier well in place, and then whirled out the bathroom door just as the handicapped stall door began to open.

I was safe. Now, no one would know who left the toilet paper in the bowl.

And that's important to me. Inexplicably.

Time Out of Women

This past weekend I went with a great group of ladies to enjoy Deseret Book's Time Out for Women. It's supposed to be an opportunity for women to get away from their families for a while, hear some funny and spiritual talks given by Utah celebs, and generally chill out on a Saturday.

We drove down on Friday to hear the evening session as well. It was interesting to look over the "menu" for the event and realize I'd only ever heard of one or two featured persons. Michael McLean (whose name I had to look up to spell correctly) performed twice on Friday, Ardeth Kapp spoke (someone in front of us said that Ardeth Kapp's husband is a cousin of Janice Kapp Perry, whose music I enjoy), and Hilary Weeks rounded out the speakers/performers.

Michael McLean had a very funny piece about how taking anti-depressants isn't shameful at all, and for some people it's life saving treatment. (can't find the lyrics online) He went on about how he dealt with severe depression until the Spirit whispered "boy, get yourself some pills". I thought it was interesting that untreated depression was a topic of such great importance to so many that he decided to feature it in his otherwise cater-to-the-stereotypical-Utah-oriented-woman styled presentation. He also sang songs about a birth mother giving up her baby, and a song about longing to be heard by heaven when in great pain. One of the phrases in a song he sang that really jumped out at me was "you know the truth as you fear it." Think about that for a while.

The Saturday speakers were Mark Mabry (of Reflections of Christ fame), Kim A Nelson (very funny man), DeAnn Flynn, Brent L Top, and Mary Ellen Edmunds (who signed my tote bag, I loved her so much). (I had never heard of any of these people)

After the meeting on Saturday Hilary Weeks and Mary Ellen Edmunds stayed around to sign books and things. Mary Ellen gave each person who came to her for a signature a big, long hug. That woman has no fear, it seems. There is flu of many kinds going around, there's always someone with questionable hygiene in every crowd, and regional illnesses abound. Yet she reached right into everyone's personal space with a gesture of love. She was my favorite for sure.

At the hotel we were staying at, we met a nice young man in a BYU t-shirt. We said hi, he said he was in town for the convention, we all smiled and parted ways. Later I was introducing myself to someone at a booth where we gleefully found that we were both Annies (with different real names) when I heard someone hollar "hey, Annie, I know you!"

I turned around to find Mr BYU T-Shirt all dressed up and manning the Shelf Reliance table.

There it was, Raul II, outfitted with accessory shelves and filled with Shelf Reliance brand merchandise. I told BYU about Raul, and his perfection. BYU was tickled by that and began telling everyone who came to the booth about Raul as I read over his brochures. After the fourth or fifth declaration of my naming my shelf, I started to feel cheapened. Raul was not a marketing gimmick, darn it! He's special and mine. Later that day I went to grab another brochure and say goodbye to BYU. He smiled and said "well, I'll see you back at the hotel."

That drew me up short. I said "we've already checked out" and then ran away. Which I can do now. I mean run. Not run away.

All in all it felt like more of a commercial experience than a really spiritual one, but I had some good laughs and really enjoyed the people I went with. Each of them surprised me with how funny and interesting they could be. I finally got my social time after these months of nursery.

I don't think I'll go again until I have more "spare" money and it's a little closer. It was nice but not something I'm interested in sacrificing for. Seeing a live General Conference, on the other hand, sounds like a treat excelsior.

Pink school

A: [knocks on our door]

Pebbles: [runs to the door, throws it open, and is excited to see her good friend returning some shoes] Ooooh, pretty dress. Are you going to church?

A: No, going to preschool.

P: Pink school? I wanna go to pink school.

Me: Pebbles, you're 3, you need to be 4 to go to preschool.

P: Oooh, ok, I'm 4.

Man: when did you turn 4?

P: I'm 4 and wanna pink school.

-sigh- If only it were that easy.

Man has been on leave for over a week now and my routines are shot. :)

The gym is going well except for an ankle issue that has become my poltergeist. I now walk/run for 2 mins/1.25 mins. Which, of course, is up from 3 mins/15 seconds. Progress, but nary a pound has meandered away. Oh, well. What weighs me down makes me stronger, right?

There was a church activity recently for which I made dolmades with real grape leaves someone brought back from Utah. Recipe is here.

Tag has been put into a supplemental reading program at school because he thinks reading is boring. Time to get more car books. Tag is still making friends all over the neighborhood and riding his bike all over creation.

Princess has been growing taller and thinner all the time. She now stands almost as tall as some of my shorter friends. She rides her bike a lot too and is finally making more friends, now that school is in.

Freida just put together a sentence yesterday "want help me, please" but her "please" still sounds like "neesh". She likes to exclaim "oh, bauw!" when something spills and uses a generous pile of my wash rags to clean even the tiniest mess. We've lost a few to her industrious chucking of things into the garbage.

Water balloons

Funny how life is a series of experiences, but some sure take a lot of work.

The water balloon fight I promised the kids finally came about today. I made the mistake of buying water balloons from the PX (buying anything from the PX turns out to be a disappointment 98% of the time) so two hours of balloon filling resulted in a scant half of the 300 balloons I purchased actually ending up in buckets. Pebbles watched me fill them, squealing in delight each time one burst after being filled with a mere couple ounces of water, and often inviting me to splash her feet. The kids came home from school in haste, anticipating my promise of water balloons as soon as the whole family was home. Tag completely forgot about his backpack when he stopped on the front porch to watch with trembling hands as each balloon was selected and met its fate as either trash or treasure.

I think the balloon fight lasted fewer than 5 minutes. The older kids and I really got into it though, figuring out how to make the balloons glance off of us and fall to the grass. All in all, a sweet experience.

And next time we'll be getting those water bomb things. Little sponges and buckets of water placed strategically around the yard sounds far more pleasant and will certainly last a bit longer during the main event.

The church glare

It's funny how different people react to different things.

My kids are wiggly in church. They are very busy people under normal circumstances, always doing something to play or move or manipulate objects. Church is hard for them and getting them to sit still is a constant work in progress. Of course they'll get there. But I feel their pain. After being in nursery or dealing with young children for so long my own attention span has waned over the years until a normal meeting where I don't have kids to shush feels painfully long. Man isn't much help since he deals with his boredom by playing with them. They do different high five games (up in space -- in your face; cut the pickle -- tickle tickle tickle!), he pokes them, or whatever it takes to keep them both happy. I often feel as if I have an extra kid to shush. He used to just snooze through the meeting and I'd elbow him and he'd say he was just closing his eyes to listen or some crap like that.

This past Sunday was Stake Conference. It's a 2 hour sermon, instead of a 1 hour sacrament meeting broken up by songs with 2 addition classes afterward. Those two hours are very long to little people. We sat in the second row back, right in sight of the Mission President's Wife (which I think is an official title in some circles). It seemed that she was of the philosophy that young children should sit still as mold during Important Gospel Instruction even though most of it is over the heads of the 3 year olds we were sitting among. She glared at us every time Frieda squawked, glared at us when Tag laughed at Man, glared at us when Princess forgot to use a total whisper voice. Is seems that she was so distracted by us that she rarely got any Important Gospel Instruction of her own unless she was giving her own talk about compassion and heeding the directions of the Spirit. It may not have helped that I didn't look very miserable with my brood teeming about me, my eyes fixed either on the speaker or on the Dot Game Tag made up for my edification and delight (with occasional glances to see if her penciled eyebrows would disappear entirely in her scowl).

The elderly lady sitting behind us just smiled and told me I had beautiful kids.

I smiled back, because I know they're beautiful, and just as imperfect as I am. Who wants perfect kids? Booooo-ooooring.

Last night we watched an episode of House. A guy in an airplane (SPOILER!!!) was diagnosed with the bends when someone pushed on his joints, which eased the pain he was in. Afterward the kids and I talked about how deep in the water someone might dive, and how heavy water is when you go deep.

Me: He might go down so deep that 15 houses stacked on top of each other would barely poke out of the water.

Princess: on their sides, or just top to bottom?

Me: Top to bottom.

Tag: Well, what if he used toy houses? Then he wouldn't hurt so much.

Me: [pause] Um, they don't actually use houses to measure how deep they go.

Tag: I know, but toy houses is shorter. He should only go down toy houses.

Princess: If you soaked the houses in water, would they fall apart?

Me: [sigh] Parts of them would, maybe.

Today was day two of circuit training. Man, stetching afterward might have made this past weekend far less painful. Back we go again tomorrow for cardio. Today I was able to run for a bit without hurting too badly. Slow progress is my friend.

Pictures

Tag: Will Oma be surprised at how big I'm getting?
Me: Always. Just like me.


Tag wanted to be in the pic by himself. Pebbles wanted to join in. This is Tag, fed up with his sister.


These two look so related to me.


Man, what a hunk!


This is a fairly typical look on his face. He pulls off "lost orphan" pretty well except in real life he's so full of happy energy.


And there's my goofy girl.

What to write about

Pebbles says Hi! while trying to hide some fluff in her hand. The fluff is from our bagless vacuum. She was twisting it into yarn, like mommy.

Wow, things havn't gotten less busy since the kids went to school. I'm now going to the gym at least 4 days out of the week (the goal is 5, but you know life), and generally being more involved with local activities, like dinners and church activities.

Today was my first day of working with Jo, my friend who is, in every way, an athlete. This woman plays soccer, runs 10k races, and has tons of experience with trainers and B12 shots and all kinds of hard core stuff that I've only ever heard about. She set up several stations around our gym and for 30 mins we puffed, grunted, and heaved air through clenched teeth while listening to Coldplay and The History Channel. After that I did 30 mins of lighter cardio while the other ladies continued their various methods of sucking oxygen into their straining bodies. But Jo was cool as a cuke. She not only did planks, she did funky one-armed planks. She not only did lunges, she did lunges with weights and turns and maybe even a few disco moves while I wasn't looking.

Pebbles tries to keep a straight face. She's actually pretty good at it
when she's trying very hard.

This Sunday our little family has been invited to join a larger choir made of families to perform for Stake Conference. We'd be privileged to sit in the front row and stand and sing at the beginning and end. I had issues with this arrangement at first, knowing what I know about my wiggly kids and a standard one hour meeting. Two hours is going to be brutal. What sort of big guns should I bring out for this event? They didn't really want to practice the songs (I'm Trying to Be Like Jesus and It Shouldn't Be Hard to Sit Very Still <-- I'm still giggling over the irony of that one) until I told them that to celebrate all of our hard work at practicing and a job well done in church, we're going to have a water balloon party for family home evening. That perked their interest with haste. I didn't call it a bribe to their faces, but isn't that what it comes down to? Let's call it a reward. :)

Pebbles -- losing the stoney face a bit. With prompting. ;)

Remember my sexy shelves? Now there is one that is indeed MY sexy shelf.

It doesn't look as sexy in this pic as it does it real life. Flash isn't flattering on anyone. Also, notice how I didn't really read the directions that told me to put the bar with the Shelf Reliance logo in the top-front position. Oh well! My shelf, my mistake, but no problem at all.

I havn't filled it yet but soon, yes soon. There was a case lot sale on post recently wherein I secured two cases of mushroom pieces for 34 cents a can, which is just a little over half the normal price. A few other great deals landed us a substantial increase in our planned food storage. I'm not sure that we're at a place in life where we can really pull together a year's worth of food (huge potential for moving still -- I've told Man that he needs to get promoted at least twice before the next time we move so our weight limit increases, or the first things to go will start with G and end with AMES) but I think a 3 month supply is exceedingly doable.

A few things on the top shelf. Man was digging the corned beef hash at the case lot sale. So he got that, and I got a case of PopTarts.

And example of how versatile they are. Canned chicken on one end, lemonade on the other. #10 cans are on the bottom.

Pebbles was really into the photo shoot.

Princess at school

I'm loving some of the writing assignments Princess brings how nowadays. Here are a couple of samples:

The Wise Monkey (A Story Review)

I like the part when the monkey eats all the cheese because it is funny and mean. Me and my sisters love cheese. I think the monkey is weird and not wise. Instead I think the monkey is a weirdo.


Here is an adlib sort of story she wrote:

One dark morning I woke up and found that I had been turned into a baby. I was very tiny. I had tattoos all over my body. They were itchy and gold. At home, my fish gave me a spanking and told me to eat my cereal. But I wanted a flower instead. At school, my principal was laughing and I had to sit in a locker. Finally, they called a magician and I was soon back to being myself. Everyone said "what!!" and I agreed with them!

(she says to tell you all that the "what" part was a mess up. It should have been "what a day!")

We had some really great laughs over this, and now I simply MUST get some real adlibs for this child.

pics

She's getting so big. :(

Wheat Grinder Giveaway

I've never participated in a web giveaway before, but this one looked interesting.

Remember those shelves I told you about? The website you can buy them from has a blog and a weekly giveaway, located here. Go check it out!

I figure most of the stuff you can sign up for online ends up being so much attention-grabbing garbage to begin with, but from a place that made this sexy thing:


I shall trust that the giveaway will be good. :) (Doesn't her left hand say it all? she can't keep her hands off this pillar of perfection.) (disclaimer, I did not take this photo and couldn't figure out who did.)

New snack

I have a new snack I love: green olives stuffed with feta.

YUM!

Sleep walking??

I think Princess sleep walks. I remember in CA she came out of her room at night a couple of times, wouldn't respond to questions, and talked nonsense.

She just came out of her room, came and sat in the seat next to be at the computer, and gibbered about getting a picture. Then she got a drink of water and headed to bed. I said "goodnight" at her, and she didn't even flinch in response. She never remembers these things the next day.

Is that sleep walking??

How are things going?

Today was the first day of school!! A bullet list is all I'm about to manage here, friends.

- Wake up early, rouse the younglings. Had to steal Tag's blanket to get him up.

- They managed to do all of their morning chores with almost an hour to spare! I told them that as long as they had at least a little time left over after dressing, putting dishes away, and eating breakfast, they could sleep in later than this morning.

-Walk them to school. Tons of parents waited with their kids. I waited until they were both safely engaged in conversation with friends and then...

- Had a chat with the nurse. Yep, gotta keep track of the meds.

- Went home to print out a map of the mall. I went on Sat and bought some clothes at Lane Bryant (shirts!! I have shirts!!) but they neglected to take the ink bomb off of my new pants. So, back we went to remove said ink bomb.

- Then we watched a friend's child until we had to go drop off Tag's meds and med permissions, and get him out of school to go to an ophthalmology appt. (yes, I spelled ophthalmology from memory, I'm sooo proud of myself) It took an hour to drive there and I was having mild panic attacks by the time we found a parking space on level P4.

- Thank goodness we got there in time to wait an hour for his appt.

- Then the sewer backed up in that building, so we got to enjoy that for a while as well.

-Nice dr though, even if he forgot to put Tag's PD on the rx (not the first time I've had to measure at home).

-Dr dangled the words "eye surgery" but didn't discuss too much, since it's a "we'll have to see" thing. I told him about my dear friend who found out about her child's brain tumor following an eye's nose-ward meander. He assured me that Tag had no sign of that whatsoever.

- We take off to the parking garage and I simultaneously return a call to the school nurse, and then we headed home.

- After beginning to drive, I notice that I'm not going to get home in time to let Princess in the house, or even tell her to walk home without Tag. ooooooo, bad feeling.

- We got on the beltway (which happens almost immediately after leaving the hospital) so I handed the phone to Tag.

M: When you hear someone say hello, ask for Sgt S.

T: Oh, ok. Can I talk to Brother S? Hi, this is Tag. Mom, whaddaya want?

M: Tell him to call Sister J and ask if she can see if Princess is at our house, because we won't be there when she gets home.

T: can you call Sister J and get Princess because we won't be back before school's over. [pause] He says ok.

M: Sweet! Don't have to worry about that anymore.

- We get home and drive straight to Sister J's house. But the little boy who answered the door says that Princess never showed up.

-Speed drive the van the halfablock home, burst inside with heart pounding to find Princess reading a book in a recliner. Man got home early and let her in.

-Man said that Sgt S called him up and said:

SS: Your son called me at work and asked me to call Sis J, but I can't tell what for. Do you have any idea what's going on?

Man: [with his incredible powers of deduction] I think I need to go home early, because my wife won't be home in time to let my daughter in the house. [well, it's either deduction, or he wanted to go home early]

-I'm so grateful for slow cookers. I have stroganoff scenting the house, just waiting for a pot of noodles to snuggle up to.


Oh, and I applied for college. I don't think I did it in time to get in thise semester, but things are at least set in motion for Spring.

ACK!!!

I've felt a little nauseous all day long from all of this but HEY! It didn't kill me and I'm still smiling. And I love stroganoff.

Overheard

Tag loves being a brother. Pebbles was in the bath and Princess was playing with/supervising her. The door was locked so Tag decided to torment them.

Tag: [knock, knock, knock]

Princess: who is it? [knowing precisely who it is]

Tag: It's Freida... I mean, googoo, gaagaa. [uncontrollable giggling]

Princess: No it isn't!

Tag: Meh, moo mee, mlet mlee mliiiiiiin, googoo. [more giggling]

Anyway, it didn't work. He cackled gleefully as he escaped the playful wrath of his older sister, whose humor is in taking things literally.

Dream list

Next time tax season rolls around, one of these shall be mine:

Most beautiful shelving system for pantries ever.

I could kiss such a shelf.

Hello, I love you! Won't you tell me your name?

Mr. Taggart came home yesterday.

T: Mom! I made a new friend. Want to see him? [spoken as if the new friend were a puppy or toad]

M: Sure, what's your friend's name?

T: Oh, um, lemme ask him. [stage whisper out the slightly open front door] What's your name?

After introductions go all the way 'round, we get to the pertinent point.

J: I wanted to know if I could spend the night here.

T: Yeah, it'd be so fun and we're really good friends now.

I got sort of an icy chill in my stomach. This boy is two years older than Tag and the only reason we knew him from Adam is that Adam likely didn't wear Transformers t-shirts. How do I explain why Tag can't spend the night at a friend's house when it isn't a school night and the kid had miraculously gotten his chores done with a smile that day?

I can only imagine what the teenage years will be like. He's going to be (and already is) one of those kids who has an instant connection with pretty girls. It reminds me of the scene in Amadeus when Wolfy comes home with his party crowd. He introduces a woman to Stanzy.

W: And this is.... a very, nice girl.

However I didn't have any sobering news for Tag to dampen his desire for a sleepover. Before J left he invited Tag to his own home for a sleepover. We all had a serious talk about sleepovers later that evening.

M: We're careful about what movies and music you guys experience at our house. We want you to understand some things about life and people before you're exposed in a way you didn't choose. [keep in mind, this took a while to explain fully to children age 6 and 7] Also, we don't know these people. We don't know if they smoke or have dogs, either of which would give you, Tag, an asthma attack. Do you know if he has a dog?

T: No, I don't, but I bet it's a nice dog.

M: What if you had gone on a sleepover with the boys who beat you up before you knew they could get so angry and then they beat you up in their house? Would that have been a good sleepover?

T: We woulda had fun before the beat up.

M: What if the parents stole you, or hurt you? I don't even know them.

T: Well, just come and meet them right now and then I can sleep over.

M: It's 8:45pm.

T: Well, I think we should drive over a volcano once.

M: If we try to do that, once is all it would take. No sleepover tonight.

Today we were riding to the grocery store when Tag had an announcement.

T: I talked to J, and he says his family doesn't smoke, has no dog, doesn't watch bad movies, and only plays bad music sometimes.

M: [shriveling inside a bit, as I imagine J reporting my inquiries to his parents]

T: Can you go meet them today?

M: I think I'm going to have to.



Every day I learn anew one of most frustrating things about having kids: if it has been heard or seen by a child, it can no longer be a secret. From anyone.

Aldi

I have Aldi! It's a 20 min drive, but their prices are better than the Commissary on canned goods and dry beans. If the spaghetti sauce is less expensive, this'll be a monthly trip. Woot!

bookshelf

It funny how the straight lines of the shelf help me forgive everything on it for not being the same size/shape. Sound OCD? As long as the chaos has an outline I can understand, it is permitted to be.

House pics

I have finally started deep cleaning/deep arranging the house, one room at a time. I started with my bedroom since my closet was driving me nuts.

Master bath: (with mirrors that need to be cleaned)


There are no drawers in there, but there's a tiny medicine cabinet. The blue drawer thing is very handy and doesn't look too nasty. I've thought about putting in under the sinks, but it contains things like bactroban that I just don't want to chance little fingers and mouths finding.



The double shower curtain thing is so fascinating to me, so I thought I'd try it out here.
I love my $3 IKEA rugs.



There was more stuff in here earlier, but I farmed it out to where it belongs and finally organized it (skirts together, suits together, etc)
The red tub is the bath I use for Vadermaker. It has to have dedicated cleaning equipment. (yes, I really only have about 5 shirts. it's a work in progress)



Man's stuff is so funny. When we moved in, his stuff found homes and that's where the things live. Forever. All of the stuff on top of his drawers has been there since the week we moved in, along with that tub, and his boots. The only change was the basket there which I used to keep things from spilling off of other things. At least he can usually find what he's looking for.


My drawers and the bookshelves. We used this bookcase from IKEA and turned it sideways because we didn't want to deal with securing it to a wall. I like all the odd-sized spaces in it. So many different things look like they're right at home.


I wanted to keep the bed very simple since we both don't care for making it. It's queen sized but we have king sized blankets and flat sheet since we're both blanket hogs. I limited myself to two pillows, one to cover our sleeping pillows and the other to break up the monotony of the plain quilt. I like the brown, since I can change the pillows on a whim and it'll still work with the color. I'm inching toward red right now.
My night stand has Vadermaker, scriptures, and a couple of cookbooks I'm working through.

Simple is where it's at, in the bedroom. I like it to be low-key and visually plain.

The slippery slope

We bought school supplies yesterday. And that begins the slippery slope of events that lead to the kids going back to school!

I've struggled with that a bit as I have great joy in my children and great joy in peaceful solitude, and never the twain shall cohabitate. Homeschoolers often talk about how they love the time with their kids and that they can't imagine someone else having such an enormous role in educating so many facets of their little ones' minds and personalities.

But I think about having to take all four of them to the grocery store every trip, or finding child care for them each time anyone has a professional health appointment.

I know that every time you have a child your life has to readjust pretty extensively. You learn that going to the store with an extra kid is just a way of life. Since it's a fact, you adapt, find ways to make it work physically and in the minds of your children. When you home school young children, the same sort of mental adaptation takes place. You either take them to the grocery store every time or arrange your schedule to go without them. You deal with it.

Summer is a hard time for many stay at home parents since the schedule that seemed to be working so well is suddenly pulled out from under you and a new schedule that involves fewer hobbies, less personal time, and more time answering all of the needs of curious, eternally hungry, active children who each have a wide variety of interests that only casually overlaps the interests of the next child takes over and CONSUMES YOUR LIFE until they go back to school. (run on sentence? yes, thank you.)

School is the norm. It's the comfortable rut we lean back toward once the novelty of summer wears thin and we begin to itch to for the company of new friends and time spent on other interests. Homeschoolers have the option of schooling when they want as long as they do enough hours and subjects in a given time frame. While we do a happy dance as the cashier scans a dozen glue sticks, homeschoolers are also stocking up on sale-priced school supplies and smiling benignly at the poor ladies who must part with their children ere long.

Oh, I've enjoyed our lazy time. I've enjoyed waking up only when the baby needs a "boppy" change and then casually throwing together whatever brunch we feel like having. The books and the games and the movies and the pool have all been a blast.

But I've long been a proponent of the principle of absence making the heart grow fonder. We lay foundations, we build bridges, and then away the littles go into the wide world. Family dinners are just that much more important. Daddy/kid dates are made with greater frequency. Family home evening is eagerly anticipated. It's easier to forgive your sister when she pops your balloon because she is more dear than aggravating.

Doesn't it all sound like such golden sunshine? Of course it isn't. I'll still have to figure out how to get them to do their chores and homework with enough time to spare in the day for kid-type romps. Laundry will still breed like tribbles and errands will still revolve around the imperative toddler nap.

But I'll have some quiet time each day.

Quiet time, that thing I stay up way too late to have, even after Man is asleep and the laundry is put away. The dishes are clean and I have no emails to write. And yet, here I am, soaking it in.

Homeschoolers, when on earth do you have quiet time? When do you get your shopping done? When do you wind down so you can once again fervently enjoy a daily grind wherein you are the primary source of all that is entertaining and edible?

When the first day of school rolls around I shall be doing the happy dance and FINALLY putting a dent in my craft room, in which I havn't crafted one single thing since moving here. Alone time, I await thee.

When kids plan the menu

Yesterday, I gave up with menu planning for this week.

This is what the kids came up with:

Spaghetti (garlic bread, corn, salad, nectarines)
Chicken Alfredo (garlic bread, peas, salad, cantaloupe)
Ravioli (butternut squash, grapes, apples)
Pizza (toppings - pineapple, chicken, mushrooms, salad)
Stroganoff (steamed broccoli)
Steak (mashed potatoes, maybe some grilled corn and zucchini, canatoupe)
Hamburgers (pasta salad, fruited jello, baked beans)

How cool is that? We're going to keep taking advantage of the fruit in season as long as it's there, so that's one side dish each night. I'm also back into a salad mode, with plenty of add-in veggies, garbanzo beans, and light on the dressing.

I may just have everyone else plan menus for me for a while. It's nice to get out of a rut, and now they can't complain about the food. Or, shouldn't, but might complain.

That's so Army

Today's Facebook status message --

Coining a new phrase: That's so Army. It describes a situation or action conducted with extreme inefficiency, far too much paperwork, as little use of too much money as possible, and extremely convoluted logic.


Today we were blessed to go visit the USO office (United Service Organizations) where they were giving free backpacks, school supplies, and ice cream to kids going to school this fall. I thought "great! I could use some water colors and crayons, and Princess' backpack barely made it through this last school year before utterly disintegrating. Woot!"

So we all got on our bikes (or in the bike trailer, in the case of Things 3&4) and pedaled on down. Of course the bikes were a great idea, given how enlisted folks descend upon free stuff as locusts. We do the same, but we try to stick with the useful stuff. There are only so many bumper stickers and Oriental Trading Post-type garbage toys we really want around.

Anyway, as expected, the variety of backpacks was precisely nil. Everyone got black, and they all smell vaguely of cigarette smoke. We got our ice cream, ate in the shade, and prepared to head on back before being caught by a friend who was sitting in her vehicle, scoping the proceedings and sending her daughter in for recon. She told me that she heard that the backpacks were just filled with snack food and a book. We pulled one out and, lo and behold, a couple of books, a frisbee (with some company logo) and various snack items poured forth. Nary a water color, pencil, or blunt scissor to be had.

On the up side, I no longer have to spend $20 on a backpack for Princess, but I will be spending $ on fabric markers or key chains so the kids can make their backpacks visually distinct from the many dozens of other black backpacks slung over kid-to-tween shoulders. The snacks also made a nice little picnic on a hot afternoon and we got a pretty decent work out, what with bike trailers filled with little people and snack foods.

Am I ungrateful? Mmmmm, maybe a little. How grateful should I be when school supplies are advertised and we end up getting more advertising thrown at us in the form of free junk? Now I'm off to go gather REAL school supplies for my kids in the form of boxes of Kleenex and one (1) black dry erase marker, etc.

When your son comes home crying

Tag came home a couple of days ago, doubled over and crying. Man and I were chatting in the kitchen.

Me: Tag, what's wrong?

Tag: My friends beat me up.

Me: [feeling a sickening chill] Let me see. [I examined the areas of his body he said he was hit and kicked] Tell me what happened.

He explained that he and two kids in our neighborhood started arguing, then they punched him and knocked him over and kicked him until a guy came and told them to stop. It is suspected that he was a soldier. He took the offending boys home to their grandparents and sent Tag home. Tag didn't have any marks on his body, not even the superficial, fast-fading red marks one can get from altercations. His emotional response was enough to convince me though. I sent him off to the shower to help him calm down and to let his body feel something else for a while. A couple of minutes later three police officers came to my house saying they got an anonymous tip that our son had been assaulted.

Officer 1: Can you and your husband come out and talk to us?

Me: Sure, that's no problem. It'd actually be more convenient for me if you came in though, since I'm cooking. If you come in, do you have to go through my closets or anything?

Officer 2: Is there a reason we should?

Me: [chuckle] I guess now that I mention it you can if you want to, I have nothing to hide except maybe a jar of pocket change.

We all sat and had a chat, they took a statement, and then went on their way.

A little while later the mother of the main child in question arrived with her son and her bother on our doorstep. She was in obvious distress, and immediately started explaining her side of things. It seems they've had a rough go of it. We invited her in as well, assured her we weren't angry, and offered to let the boys play together under supervision so that they have a chance to develop a positive relationship. We all agreed that all we wanted was peace and a chance for our boys to learn how to get along without coming to blows.

My heart was pierced by this woman. She looked far too young to have a 7 year old boy, wore a Taco Bell uniform, and never mentioned a partner or spouse. They all lived with her parents, getting by as best they could. It hit far too close to home for me and, in my heart for not the first time that week, I whispered "there, but for the grace of God, go I."

Man said he was worried that I'd become hyper-protective of him. After all, I couldn't imagine someone wanting to beat up my sweet boy with the too-loud voice and enormous eyelashes. We counted our blessings that his first brush with being beaten up let him off so light, and we talked about bullies and their comfort zones and why they do what they do.

Other neighbors came to talk with us after the police cars had gone, and the stories began pouring forth of how this bully had threatened people with stabbing them, and attempted stealing.

-sigh- The poor kid already has a poor start here. I just hope that he has the relationships he needs in life to learn about happiness.

Where on earth did July go?

ONCE AGAIN we are resurfacing from illness. My strep was not quite so bad as last time and I made it through without antibiotics. But, since this is the third major case of it I've had since Feb, it's time to seriously examine tonsil removal. Those stupid tonsils occlude my airway and it actually unsettled the Unflappable Man to the point where, several times in the night, he'd have to wake me to move onto my side since I was choking on my own throat.

So I'm shaking my tiny fist at the universe and repeating in my head that I'm still only in my 20's despite having the health problems of a 60 year old fat person. FRUSTRATED.

In good news, weight loss has continued (being sick doesn't hurt that at all). I'm down 30 pounds now. I'm trying not to count how much further I want to go since I don't even know where that is. When I run and am not weary, and sleep without getting brain damage, I guess I'll know I'm there.

July was consumed by dr's appts, illness, attempts at summer fun (our sugar candy never formed due to dissolving the sugar in water that was too hot -- my fault. but we did make it to the new pool that lives one block from here)

Truly, I did not know it was August until yesterday, the 3rd.

August is a mixed bag, here. We need to go through all of the kids' clothes. The older ones need bigger sizes of things, the younger ones need to draw on the clothes we've saved back, and I can finally give away up to size 18m now that Freida is solidly in the 2-3T range. She's only about 4 slim inches shorter than her older sister and she still isn't very happy unless she has some sort of food stuff taking up space in her little maw.

Next order of business is to get school supply lists from the school and get kids registered. I consider this a happy thing. Tag is never so happy as when he gets several hours a day with his friends. Princess is never so happy as when she has mental stimulation which she's getting better at finding on her own (hallelujah. today her thing is leaf rubbings).

Princess has started reading Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys, and a few books I picked up in the $1 section of our local Book-A-Million (black beauty, anne of green gables) She's also asking about hair cuts and ear piercing again. Anyone know of a place that does both ears at the same time? I don't think she'll be up for ear #2 if done consecutively. Then she asked if, after the ear piercing, she could start wearing makeup. Then I realized that she's wanting to do all kinds of grown up things all at once and wondered how many liberties to let her indulge. We'll start with the hair and the ears.

CPAP

I got a CPAP machine! Woot!! Since the study went so badly, with no happy setting or mask, she gave me this machine that self-adjusts with each breath, and intelligently tunes in to my sleeping patterns. Even as I lose weight, it'll just keep on adjusting. It has a built in humidifier so I won't have to worry about how crusty my nose and mouth got during the study as well.

Oh, man, I can't wait to try this thing out. Good sleep, here I come!

Feminine appointments at the dr's office

I had to have half of a girlie exam today due to a slight scare in the "oh my gosh, is it one of those kind of lumps???" department.

So, there I am, being doctored by a nice, little old man with half of a British accent. He keeps his eyes mostly trained on the wall opposite him, I keep my eyes on the poster of a monkey someone had thoughtfully taped to the ceiling, and the nurse in attendance keeps a bright smile on her face and does her legal duty to make sure the dr stays one hundred percent professional.

Me: Doc, the only reason I'm letting you do this is because I've had four kids and as many OB's. I'm still really working the happy place angle though... [and then I realized how that sounded]

Doc: Oh, really? [he's concentrating on the wall, and doesn't pay attention. nurse gives one of those half-shocked giggles] Do you examine yourself every month?

Me: No, and I hate to admit it. One of my closest friends is a nurse, and she's always willing to go thumping for the "feel your boobies once a month" crowd. You know, [and I look at the nurse] a girlfriend thing.

The nurse smiles. She understands. This is how I cope.

Doc: Uh-huh. And she's right. A woman of your age should be familiar with her body so that when she gets older she knows when things aren't right.

And he totally made my day, since my last birthday saw me officially transition into my late 20's. The bloom of youth hasn't totally left me, but there's a bit of a droopy lip that comes with such birthdays.

We, all of us, managed to find the offending lump, and then I was given permission to once more clothe myself.

The poor guy was trying so valiantly to be professional and walk on fine porcelain egg shells. A thin line can sometimes be a dangerous one when litigation is on so many entitled minds.

Doc: The good news is, I most definitely believe it probably isn't cancerous. In fact, let's say that it totally almost certainly isn't. I wouldn't actually call it a lump even, since it doesn't display those characteristics of a lump that make it a lump.

Me: [lost in the bewildering labyrinth of qualifiers and absolutes] So, it isn't lumpy enough to be a lump?

Doc: No. And for now, and I think this is ok, if it was a lump the correct procedure would be to perform a lumpectomy and biopsy. But given what we found today, it's safe and good to do, well, not nothing, but... nothing. Yes, let's wait. But if it changes, come back in right away, don't hesitate. But otherwise, let's wait. Since it isn't a lump, no lumpectomy, and waiting will be fine.

I kind of wonder what it's be like to order dinner with this guy.

"Let's have the, not really shrimp but ok, some shrimp. And no tomatoes, which I think is ok, since it's shrimp but tomatoes exist in this restaurant but the lemon can wait, and then there's the broccoli. Make sure it's cooked but still somewhat raw, or if you think it's better cooked then do it that way. And don't forget the tomatoes. Meaning that I don't want them, perhaps."

I can understand that he didn't want to sear a diagnosis of No Cancer into granite, but oh my freaking goodness I just wanted him to grow a pair and talk straight. Apparently there are places called Breast Care Centers wherein all they care for are breasts. My, what strides women have made in the last century.

So the good news is, no chemo for me, maybe, probably. Let's even say certainly, kind of.

And let this be a reminder to all you women: Check yourself every month!! Really!

Bike accident

Black eye, scraped elbow and knee, limp, but still going out on that bike.


Evidence of the crossing eye, but the glasses hide the black eye pretty well.

oy vey - driving

I made an appt for Tag's ophthalmology needs.

Walter Reed appt lady: There aren't any appts for July or Aug.
Me: [sinking feeling, even more sinking than the thought of having to drive to walter reed]
Appt lady: would you like to make an appt with an alternate facility?
Me: Yes!!!
Appt lady: Ft Belvoir or Bethesda?
Me: [thinking: oh, shoot. Not much better of a drive] Bethesda, please. [crap, crap, crap]

So, thank heaven for small favors.

Princess Pics

Princess ran inside today to tell me that the sky outside looked awesome and could we please take some pictures. I handed her the camera and told her to knock herself out. I need to talk to her about holding still while the pic takes, but from an artistic standpoint, some of them are really neat.