Even Stars Have Tooth Fairies

What a week it was for Caleb!  He came home all excited that he had been chosen Star of the Week in Kindergarten.  That meant that he got special attention and treatment all week, that he got to bring a toy to class each day, and most importantly, he got to make a big poster about himself to hang in his classroom all week.

All weekend Caleb kept reminding me that he still had to make his poster, but that was last weekend, a holiday weekend, so I figured I had plenty of time.  Then suddenly it was Tuesday morning, and the poster hadn't been made.  Good thing Caleb goes to afternoon kindergarten!

First Caleb and I went through all the pictures on my computer and he helped me pick out his favorites.  Then using my Big Shot we die cut a bunch a stars from fun papers.  So far, so good.  Then I hit a huge speed bump - my printer wasn't working.  The paper jammed, I cleared it, but the printer wouldn't work anymore.  Refused.  Said there was a jam that I had to clear, but I already did, and I couldn't find anymore paper jammed anywhere.  So frustrating!

But this was vital.  This was Star of The week, and it had to get done!  So I figured out that I could pick the pictures, a few at a time, and email them to Dennis' computer, and print them on his printer.  Only Dennis has a lousy free trial photo software that I couldn't navigate very well, and I was having problems with his printer as well.  Of course. It was quite an involved process, for just printing off a few pics.

Anyway, while I was in Dennis' office battling it out with the printer, Caleb and Luke decided to get started on the poster - you know, to save time.  So, unbeknownst to me, they started gluing down all the stars that we cut all over the poster board, and came and got the pictures I had already wrangled out of the printer.  When I came into the kitchen the masterpiece was almost finished.  They had glued all the stars and pictures everywhere, and to add just a pop of color, they went at the poster with crayons, and a fat yellow highlighter - right over all the pictures and everything.  They were beaming with pride at what they had created.  We only had time to slap the remaining few pictures on the poster, and scribble a few captions wherever I could find a blank space on the crayon-covered board, before we were out the door.

Now you have to understand, this is my 5th Star of the Week.  With all my other boys, I carefully made the posters like giant scrapbook pages, in such a way that I could deconstruct them and turn them into scrapbook page layouts when the week was done.  You know: two birds, one stone.  But Caleb and Luke had their own "vision" for this poster, a very colorful one, I might add.  I was kind of frustrated, like I had  wasted the whole morning trying to accomplish my vision, when all I had to do was hand them some crayons and say "Have at it!"

Still, I think the poster turned out pretty fun, and Caleb was proud as a peacock to bring it to his classroom.  I guess that is all that matters, right?

It is good to be the Star of the Week, and Caleb enjoyed every minute of it.  And to top the week off, Caleb lost his very first tooth!  It was pretty loose all week.  Dennis even tried to yank it out with dental floss on Saturday.  But Alex, our resident tooth extractor (he wants to be a dentist one day) finally got it out on the drive home fom church.  Nothing more exciting than a bloody mouth with a hole in it.  Yippee!

What do you think about Caleb's new look?  Quite distinguished, don't you think?

Why Can't Anything Ever Just Work Out?

It all started Friday morning when I went to give Dylan his 8am infusion.  When I pushed the syringe to flush his line, saline squirted everywhere.  There was a leak in his line.  It was coming out where the connector and the tubing met.  I didn't give him his medicine, since I figured it would just leak out everywhere.  So I just clamped it off and called the home nurses.  They sent out a nurse right away, who confirmed that there was a problem, and got on the phone to try to find someone who could fix it, but first they had to know what size tubing was used so they could get the correct fix-it kit.  So she called the hospital to find out, but they wouldn't release the information because it is confidential (She was asking for a size of tubing, not a full release of medical history.  Geeze!).  So she had to go back to the office and fax in a signed request, then they had to locate the right size fix it kit, and then they had to locate the one nurse qualified to fix it.  I'm thinking it is basically changing the nozzle on a very small garden hose.  It really shouldn't be that complicated!  Meanwhile, hours pass, and the time comes and goes for his 11 o'clock dose.  Finally I call the nurse and say that I am just going to put tape on it too keep it from leaking, so I can give him his medicine.  She freaked out about that a bit, since it isn't sterile, but whatever.  The kid needs his meds, and he is taking so many strong antibiotics that any germ stuck to the tape wouldn't have a chance.  Besides, I used medical tape, not duct tape or anything.  The tape worked - no leaking.  We waited for the qualified nurse, who was found, but very busy.  Finally it is afternoon, and I am getting ready for my trip to Hollywood to see Phantom of the Opera.  The nurse calls back and says the one qualified nurse is too busy to come, and just to take Dylan to the ER to have them do it there.  I love the "JUST", like hopping over to Loma Linda is no big deal.  I told her the tape was working fine, but she insisted I take him right to the ER. If not, she could come fix it on Monday.  I was furious.  It wasn't like this was a sudden emergency.  I had called them at 8am, as soon as I knew it was a problem, and now it was after 3pm, and they couldn't get their act together to help us.  I was not about to miss Phantom, especially when the tape was working just fine.  So stressful.  I went on a tyraid.  Why can't anything ever just work out???

So I went to Phantom, and forget my frustrations for one glorious evening!  

Saturday morning the tape was still working, but my mom-guilt started working too.  "You should really take him to the ER", said the good mom voice.  "But the tape is working just fine.  It will last until Monday", said the dominant bad-mom voice. " But the nurse was really concerned," said the good-mom voice.  "If she was so concerned, she would have found a way to come over and get it fixed," argued the bad-mom voice.  You don't want to spend the whole Saturday driving to and from, and waiting in the ER .  Besides, you have righteous plans.  You are going to work on disaster preparedness all day, remember?"  

The argument in my head continued all day, and the two voices were about to get into a cat fight when Dylan made my mind up for me.  He had been at my mom's house, helping her paint the fence.  He was running around, and his medicine got caught on something and the whole PICC line pulled right out.  Lovely!  

So while my mom brought him home I packed a bag with stuff to do, water bottles, snacks, etc. - anything I could think of that I might need at an all-night ER stay.  After all, this wasn't a life or death thing, and he wouldn't be top priority.  I was in a foul, foul mood, muttering things like "Why can't anything ever just work out?  Why is everything ALWAYS such a stinkin' pain?  Doesn't the Lord know that I have a bit too much on my plate right now, and I really don't need to drive all the way to Loma Linda to sit in an emergency room all night.  Is it too much to ask to have something go right for once?"  Bad mom was acting as my mouth piece, and she was pretty noisy about it.  

So I grabbed my bag and my kid, and slammed the door on the way out.

When we started driving, I could see that poor Dylan felt really bad.  He said that it was because his arm stung from when he yanked his line out, but I could tell that he was really feeling bad and guilty, like it was all his fault, and that I was mad at him, which I really wasn't.  I never was.  I knew that line was bound to get yanked out as some point.  He is nine after all, and after being down for 3 months, I really didn't have the heart, or even the ability, to keep him down now that he was feeling better.  I wasn't mad at him, I was just really, really tired, and have a list a mile long of things I need to do that I just keep falling further, and further behind on.  Saturday was supposed to be the day to get a lot of things crossed off my list.  Now this.

I felt bad seeing Dylan so sad.  I pulled the car over, and explained to him that I was not mad at him, and at least we wouldn't have to worry about the leak anymore, etc.  Then I had him say a prayer.  He prayed that we would drive there quickly, that they would be able to help us quickly, that we'd drive home safely, and that we would have a nice time.  His sweet prayer softened my heart.  I determined to change my attitude right there, and sent bad-mom packing.  "Okee doke, Dyls, its a mommy/son date to the ER."  We turned up our CD of "Joseph and his...Dreamcoat" and sang at the top of our lungs all the way.  It was fun.

When we got there it was 6:45pm.  A Saturday night.  When we drove in the parking lot Dylan said, "That's weird.  It doesn't look like there are a lot of people."  He wasn't kidding.  There was only one person in the waiting room!  A few weeks ago, when Dennis took Dylan to that ER to get his line unblocked, there was standing room only, literally.  People were sitting on the floor and standing outside.  It had been a Friday night, about the same hour.  They had waited almost three hours, and were told it wold be another few hours before they would be seen, so they finally just left.  We signed in, and were just getting settled in the waiting room, when they called us back.  We didn't even wait 5 minutes.  Who would have thought?

We waited a little while in the exam room.  A doctor came and assessed what needed to be done, and left.  A short while later she came back in.  She said that the vascular access team, which does the PICC lines, didn't come on weekends.  They would probably have to give him a regular IV for the weekend, and we'd have to come back next week to have the PICC line put back in.

Oh, here we go again.  the bad-mom voice started to reemerge in my brain.  A regular IV?  You want to hook this kid up to a regular, drip bag, needle in arm IV?  How would we work that?  What a PAIN!  I could have driven to a local hospital to get a regular IV.  Doesn't anybody work on weekends anymore?  I have to come all the way BACK here next week (I already have a Dr. appointment here on Thursday!) And then came the familiar refrain, Why can't anything ever just work out???

I explained my concerns to the doctor and she said she would see shat she could do.  She returned a short while later and said that she had good news.  There happened to be someone from vascular access who was still on call for a few more hours, and before the doctor could leave the room, the cute little gall from VA was there already, like magic!

The procedure takes some time.  She has to measure and prepare, etc.  When she was ready to start, I stood to watch, and she told me that wasn't a good idea if I was squeamish about blood.  I assured seeing blood really didn't bother me.  When I told her I had six boys, she believed me.

Dylan was so brave.  He was awake the whole time, which was really, really good, because if we had to put him to sleep, we definitely wouldn't be able to get it done that night.  It would have been way to complicated.  She did a good job, and got it right the first try.  Just as she was finishing another guy from VA showed up to do it.  The doctor had said there was nobody from VA, and now we had two!  Then Dylan had to get some chest Xrays to make sure everything was in place just right.  It was.  Then, when Dylan was feeling better, they discharged us!  That was it.  With the procedure and everything we were in the ER only about 2 1/2 hours! 

Several doctors and nurses commented that our stars must have been aligned just right because "nothing ever works out this quickly!"  Their words struck me.  I suddenly remembered my bad-mom mantra -"why can't anything ever just work out?" and I was humbled. My stars weren't aligned, I just had the Lord on my side.  No, I didn't need a trip to Loma Linda on a Saturday night.  I would have much rather stayed home, but since I did have to go, the Lord knew that I was overloaded, and that I had had only 3 hours of sleep the night before, and was exhausted.  He knew that if I was going make the drive home, we couldn't be in an ER all night long.  That was why the Lord just made it all work out.  He knew my limit, took me right up to it, then he made the rest as easy as possible.  Oh, why to I have to be so ungrateful sometimes?  I was truly humbled, and grateful for a loving merciful God who made it all just work out.

We left the ER, and even had time to stop for dinner at El Pollo Loco - Dylan's choice.  It was fun.  It was mommy/son date night after all.  

We drove home and made it before midnight.  I sang Phantom at top volume all the way home to stay awake while Dylan slept.  Still, I felt myself slipping into a doze a few times at the end.  I am not a night person and I was exhausted.  I knew that if it had taken much longer than it did at the ER, I might not have made it home.  But Dylan's sweet prayer at the beginning of our excursion was answered completely.  We made it there quickly, got everything fixed quickly, made it home safely, and had a nice time too!  What a wonderful little boy!

I am so grateful for the Lord's hand in my life.  I will remember this next time I feel like nothing is working out.  Life isn't easy.  By definition it can't be.  But sometimes, just when we really need it, the Lord bestows his tender mercies on us so stuff just works out.  The Lord is always working it all out for us somehow, isn't he?

Seduced by the PHANTOM!

We saw Phantom!  

Last night we, left the kids at home, left Dylan at my sister Lisa's house for night-nurse duty, and drove to Hollywood to see the Phantom of the Opera with my parents, and our friends Jeff and Shea Bailey.  It was so exciting to hit Hollywood Blvd. and see the searchlights rolling up above our heads and see the walk of stars beneath our feet!

Of course no trip to Hollywood would be complete without a stop at the original Tommy Burger.  The gals all sat in the car to eat, but the men all ate out on the hood of the car in an attempt to keep from getting Tommy's chili all over their white shirts.  We thought they were so cute, in their matching white shirts, lit up in the head lights like an opening act with stage lights.  You see, there is no tail-gating in theater - too high brow.  With theater it is front-hooding instead.  It is proper theater etiquette, you know.  

Mom is so excited!  

Last time we saw Phantom it was also with my parents.  I was pregnant with Alex.  That was 13 years ago.  Back then I LOVED it, but didn't really understand the plot because I wasn't familiar with it.  This time we would really be able to appreciate it.  This was Shea and Jeff's first time, and we were so excited for them to experience Phantom for themselves.

Walking into the incredible art deco style Pantages Theatre is like stepping back in time to the golden age of Hollywood. Every square inch of everything is carved.  There is so much to look at, even before the curtain goes up.  It is gold, gaudy, and wonderful! 

I have no pictures of the play itself, of course, but it was amazing!  The set, the costumes, the sheer talent of the actors.  The Phantom himself was especially good.  Captivating.  The music was incredible and very romantic.  It was all I could do not to burst out in song with the actors.  I think my kids will be hearing me sing a lot of Phantom music in the next few weeks.  Unfortunately, I have not be trained by the Angel of Music.

I was in awe of the well orchestrated scene changes, and the special effects.  The giant chandelier, the transformation of the opera stage, and especially the underwater lake with fog rolling off the front of the stage into the orchestra pit, the candles flickering and moving in the mist, and the boat gliding across the stage!  So well done.

What a magical evening!  Great company and great theatre.  Oh, the power of the music of the night!

Only Two Exceptions

Caleb was having a VERY bad day, because he wasn't allowed to do a few things that he was just too young for.  He came into my room fuming mad and announced: "Everything in the whole world is super dumb!" (Don't we all feel like that sometimes? I sure do!)

 Then came the exemptions.  "Everything is dumb EXCEPT only for my Grandpa that died, and Jesus.  They are NOT dumb.  I don't want grandpa or Jesus mad at me, but everything else in the whole world is super dumb!"  

That kid knows how to cover his tail, doesn't he?

5 Things

Since I have been tagged an re-tagged by my sisters and my mom (seriously, guys, you have to get some more friends), I offer this:

5 things I have in my purse:

1. syrenges (doesn't everybody?)

2. Bath and Body Works Tropical Passionfruit Anti-Bacterial hand gel (smells like heaven once the alcohol has evaporated)

3. lipstick

4. a stack of various gift cards that I always forget to use.

5.  The instruction manuel for my new Canon 40D.  (I don't think it will help much.  You can't learn to drive a car by reading the car's owner's manuel, can you?  Cameras and cars require a bit more training behind the wheel, but the camera doesn't fit in my purse)

5 Things in my workroom (a.k.a. my Pink Room, my Studio, my Creative Space)

1. pink, lots of it, and black and cream toile.

2. my artwork

3. a tv/dvd player and a basket of chick-flicks

4. a window seat with lots of pillows

5. an entire wall of bookshelves stacked with stamps, thousands and thousands of them.  A wood and rubber wonderland!

One thing NOT in that room - ME.  I just don't have the time to go in there anymore. 

5 Things I Always Wanted to Do

1. Star in a musical 

2. Visit Vermont with my pal Alysa in the Fall

3. Spend a whole Summer in Italy with my hubby (and see Europe while there)

4. Go on a mission (I was swept off my feet before I got the chance.  Someday.)

5. Own a cozy antiques/craft boutique in an old barn.

5 Things I am Into Now (besides being a full time nurse)

1. my BIG SHOT from SU!  I am always thinking of fun ways to use my toy.

2. digital photography - there is SO much to learn!

3. opera (got a stack of great opera CDs last weekend at a GS for a buck each.  Love them!)

4. my fat clothes - well almost, which is why I am also again into swimming.

5.  my girls - I just love my calling, which is good since they take up so much of my time and brain power.

Of course, I am always into my boys. Love you boys!

5 People I Tag

1. Mindy - it is worth repeating

2. Dayna

3. Shannan

4. Madi

5. Diana  (I just remembered you tagged me months ago, and I promised I'd get back to you.  I will.  Promise.)

Mama Loves Mambo!

Vamoose Guitar Hero.  The Van Clan has a new favorite Wii game - Samba de Amigo!!!

It is so fun - like a mix between Guitar Hero and Dance, Dance Revolution - with a Latin twist!

You have to shake the maracas, up, down, and everywhere to the beat of the music.  You have to strike Latin pose for added points.  The maracas are played by the cutest monkey in a sombrero.  It is so colorful and the Latin rhythm music is terrific!  

You can even hit a pinata or play "Guacamole" - a Latin version of Whack-a-Mole.

FIESTA!

Cha Cha Cha!!!

We first played Samba Samba on Friday night.  Dennis took all the boys on a camping trip, but poor Dylan couldn't go because of his IV, etc.  He was really, really bummed.  So I let him plan our evening.  Dylan, Luke, and I watched a 3D movie, ate take-out Chinese, drank hot chocolate, and played Samba Samba until very late.  We all had a great time  much more fun than sleeping in the dirt in the cold.  Does that kid know how to plan a fun evening, or what?

Ole!

Back in the Swim of Things

Today I finally took the plunge!

As you are probably aware, I swim.  I am a swimmer.  I swim four mornings a week between the atrocious hours of 5:30 and 7 am.  At least I did until early November when I was dry-docked due to a sick kid..., well, you know the tale.

And even now that he is bouncing around and feeling fine, I still am up all night with his meds..., again, you know the routine.  Just 5 more weeks now.

SO.  So I am always tired and as much as I'd love to get back in the water, and I promise myself tomorrow will be the day, come early a.m., I am wiped out, and I just can't drag my poor sleepless body out of bed any sooner that I absolutely have to.  

However, lately I have come to realize that my malaise and touch of  melancholy may have as much to do with the lack of exercise as the lack of sleep.  The muffin top rising over my waistband, and the "zimm zimm" sound of my thighs rubbing together when I walk are also a good indicator that it is again time to get wet.

Last night, after we dropped off the twins at cub scouts, Dennis took me over to check out the new gym.  Not sure just why.  I already have a gym with a pool, and Dennis has a history of signing up for gyms and then never darkening the doors again.  But OK, what the hey?

So the guy gives us the "tour."  It is early evening and the place is packed with way too many sweaty bodies for my taste.  Fortunately, Dennis and I had just come from taekwando, so we fit right in with the stinky crowd.  Is is so nice to feel like you belong!  So we get the tour and to me it all sounds like "blah, blah, blah."  My lack of interest has everything to do with the fact that I despise any exercise requiring shoes (except maybe for volleyball, but then again, you can play that barefoot, can't you?), or that is dependant on machinery.  I knew that even if we got a membership, my rear would never, ever touch one of those sweaty seats.  My interest lay only in what lie beyond the big glass wall with the waves etched in it.  I was there about a pool.

Our tour finally got us through the etched glass door.  TaDa!  The pool.  

Uh.  I was less than thrilled that it was only two lanes (The pool I swim at has 4), and was turned off when the tour guide proudly announced that the pool was a constant 80 degrees - like that was a good thing.  80 is a bit tepid for my taste.  Warm water is great to jump into but after a few laps you feel like you are swimming in soup.  There's nothing like water that is a tad nippy (just a tad.  I don't belong to the Polar Bear Club!) to get your motor running.  The pool I swim in now is also set at 80 degrees too, so that is the same, but I was hoping for better here where there are maybe fewer old people who seem to like swimming in soup

Not convinced, at the end of the tour, that this was the place for me, I asked for a pass to come try the pool out for myself.  I wouldn't know if this was right until I actually swam in it.  The seven day pass began right then, so I knew this morning, tired or not,  I'd better take the shiny new pool for a test swim.  

5a.m.  I beat the alarm, and give Dylan his meds (I don't have to think about administering the IV anymore.  It has become as automatic and quick as changing a diaper, but much, much cleaner. Only you can let diaper wait until morning), then go hunting for my swimming gear, squeeze into my suit (ugh!), throw on my big chlorine-infused parka (ahh, the smell of chlorine in the morning!) and head out into the dark.

The new gym is further than my current one, but since it is right off the freeway it takes about the same time to get there.  By the way - I HATE that ridiculous Jefferson on/off ramp.  Who thought that one up, anyway?

So I get past the front desk with my wanna-be pass, and to the pool.  It is deserted.  Perfect!  I disrobe and unload at the one bench there.  I prefer a chair.  No hooks for towells. Huh?  I work my way down to the far end of the pool.  I line up all my gear (fins, kick board, pull buoy) at the edge of the pool, put on cap, adjust goggles (ugh, even my head has gotten fatter), and plug my earphones into my ears. (Yes, I have tunes - a waterproof iPod SwimMan; only my best discovery ever!  I get a rockin' underwater workout.  The problem comes when something from Wicked plays and I want to burst into singing - not a good idea while underwater, trust me.  My play list has everything from U2, to Gladys, to bluegrass, to classical.  As long as it moves, I move.  I must say, though, swimming butterfly to Tchaikovsky is truly sublime!)

So I plop into the water.  Not too warm.  Not bad at all.  Then I push off from the wall.  The old pool has one jet on the wall where the hot water comes out, so with each lap I had to swim through a stream of hot water.  Yuck.  But this is nice.  Nice.  Really really nice.  

The pool is a proper 25 yards.  The pool I had been using is short, an awkward 22.3 yards, or something, which makes calculating a workout a bit difficult.  My undeveloped math brain can only handle 4 laps = 100 yards, not 4.2 laps.  It was really hard to figure out how much I was swimming and to convert my workouts into 22 yard laps.  These 25 yard laps are right, and felt right.

And although there are only 2 lanes here, and thus no "good" middle lanes, the lanes are so very wide.  I can safely swim butterfly without scraping my knuckles on the wall, even with my wingspan.  A happy thing.

Oh yes, and the pool is just pretty - pretty and new.  Nice modern tilework.  The plaster is white and clean, and that is good since you see a lot of it swimming laps.  And when you do backstroke the acoustic ceiling tiles are not warped and water-stained.  Even the turn flags are pink - always a plus! Swimming in that pool was like wearing a fancy new dress when you are sick of the same frumpy old worn one - the kind that you know you look good in and you don't need to ask "Does this pool make me look fat?" It's like strapping a darling new pair of shoes that just fit.  Lucky me.

And so I swam, and it felt great!  Oh how I missed this!  I was a little rusty, but no fish out a water, to be sure.  I felt great all day.  Of course I'll be pooped tonight.  That is a given, but it just feels so good to be back in the swim again, after all this time.  And in a new pool to boot.

I canceled my old gym membership today.

After all, if I am going to be exhausted, I might as well be exhausted and fit, right?  I mean, if I have to have these bags under my eyes, I don't need to have bags on my thighs as well, do I?

We'll see how long this lasts.

So if any of you are looking for a swim partner, you know where I'll be.  But don't all sign up at once.  There are only two lanes.

DEREK by Derek

For Christmas, Derek gave me a laminated copy of his poem - all about him.  It is EXACTLY him.  It cracks me up because Derek is a one-in a billion type of kid.  Glad to see he knows himself as well as I do.  My comments are in italics.  This is Derek:

DEREK

I am adventurous, weird, and smart.

Right on all three accounts.

I wish I was a super hero.

Constantly! He is always coming up with the perfect superpower.

I dream of going to Mars.

Where else?

I want to learn how to spell better.

Me too!

I wonder about top secret stuff.

Yes, and he wonders out-loud about it all the time.

I am afraid of Monsters.

It takes a brave man to admit his fears.

I believe in Heavenly Father.

Yes, yes, yes - bearing his testimony in school even.

I like lettuce.

Loves it.  He did say he was weird... and smart.

I love ligers.

Yep, he and Napoleon.  We hear a lot about Ligers around here. (They ARE real you know.)

I love my family.

Ding, ding, ding - This kid is winning points all over the place!

In high school I want to learn languages.

To get ready for his mission, no doubt.

When I grow up I want to be an insurance man and an archaeologist.

A cross between his dad and Indiana Jones - a recipe for success.

DEREK

I am absolutely crazy about that funny kid!  He has brought so much joy and life into our home since the day he was born.  

Thanks for the poem Derek!  I'll treasure it.

P.S. You ARE my superhero.  You have the power to make me laugh!

Doing the CAN CAN!

Last Night the Keechler came over for FHE.  We talked a bit about the importance of emergency preparedness and food storage, then everybody helped make canned 72 hour kits.

The cousins all helped each other get their cans packed just right.

Cutie-Pie Morgan is ready to seal up her can.

So many helpers and only one canner!

When the 72 hour kits were done, we dry packed 65 cans of rice, sugar, popcorn, kamut, and spelt.  Nathan and Alex were big helpers!  It definitely was a group effort, and so satisfying to be  done.

So what else do you do with a bunch of empty grain bags?  A sack race!

And they're off!
Dylan made a great showing, despite his recent injuries.

Luke finally got the hang of it about 5 minutes after the race began, and ended.  He figured out how to work the tongue for added speed.

We teach our children to "waste not, want not," so for dessert Luke and Caleb just licked the extra sugar that had spilled on the table during canning.  EW!

Thanks Keechlers!  We had a fun and productive time doing the can can with you!

Bumpin' & Grindin'

Bright and early Saturday morning, I brought Alex and Nate to the church to participate in a stake youth service project to clean up the building, inside and out.  The boys worked hard shoveling and raking the grounds.  They love to serve, and I am proud of how much they did.  I took pictures - I really slaved over them.

Then we joined about 100 kids and parents from their middle school on a group hike up the Bump & Grind trail.  It was a huge group, and we could see the long line of us zigzagging up the rocky hill. 

It was an absolutely perfect day for hiking, clear and sunny, with a cool breeze.  You could see for miles and miles.

Alex slowed down long enough for me to snap his picture.  That kid is a hiking maniac!

Nate was so happy to make it to the top, where friends and teachers were waiting to greet everyone.  What a fun activity that was for the school to plan.  We absolutely love CMP!

Exactly How Long is Half of Forever, Anyway?

We have reached the halfway point.  Dylan has been home from the hospital 6 weeks now, and that means we are through 6 weeks of his 12 week IV meds.  It sounds good to be halfway through, but looking back it seems like we have been doing this FOREVER!  So to be half way through with forever, means it still seems like we have forever to go before it is all over and done with.

I thought things would be easier by now.  In some wonderful ways they are.  Dylan is mobile and active again.  He is feeling better, and that alone is wonderful.  His new mobility comes with its own set of problems.  He now has to go to physical therapy.  Three days a week, and hour at a time, for 6 weeks.  It is all the way in Palm Desert, and tremendously complicates my already crazy schedule with a in-home teacher, in-home nurses, day-long trips to Loma Linda.  It would be crazy enough if I only had Dylan, but I have 5 other kids who have schedules of their own, and who still happen to need their mother.

And of course, along with the physical therapy comes pain. Dylan worked so hard at PT yesterday because he wants so badly to be back to normal again.  He used to be the fastest runner in his class, amazing at sparring in taekwando, a real high kicker.  But now he can't do any of that.  Yesterday he said, "I am tired of saying 'I used to be able to...' ."  So he has been working so hard.  Poor kid sat in the living room chair crying for hours last night because his long neglected muscles were aching so much.  It is necessary pain, but I hate to see him have to go through it!  

And, of course there still is the insane all-day, all-night IV med schedule.  I am so, so, so tired all the time.   It is relentless and never ending!  To make things worse, over the last 6 weeks his PICC line has gotten slower and slower, which makes my job harder and longer.  What used to take an hour, now takes two, and it is taking real muscle (something I am rapidly losing, since I have given up trying to fit exercise into my life) to push the syringes in.  It is really frustrating.  Before Christmas I told my doctor it was a problem, and she ordered some procedure to be done to help clear the line.  Apparently, the home nurses we use don't perform the procedure.  But nobody told me or the doctor that.  When we went to Loma Linda yesterday, the doctor was surprised that the procedure had not been done, and ordered another one. 

She also said that his SED rate, the inflammation rate they test in his blood, was not dropping as fast as she had hoped , and was dropping at a lower and lower rate each week.  This, apparently, is not a good thing and caused some concern to the doctor.  But as long as it doesn't increase, there isn't need to worry.   It just might take longer, which might mean more weeks of meds.

So after our appointment( which took hours, by the way) Dylan and I ran a few errands around there, and even went out to lunch, which was nice.  We finally got home in late afternoon, and my Mom asks how the procedure went.  What procedure?  Apparently, while we were still there, the doctor's office called here and said that Dylan needed to come to the ER there in Loma Linda to get the procedure done.  My mom told her to call my cell phone.  Sure enough there was a message on it telling me to go the the ER.  For some reason I never heard the phone ring, and was never given a missed alert message.  When I realized the I had been RIGHT THERE, and I could have easily taken him in to have it done and quite possibly have the nightmare solved, I BLEW a FUSE!  Not a happy scene.

Of course if I had had my bluetooth in my ear (see previous post), I'm pretty sure I would have gotten the message.

Now I have to find time to take him all the way back there to get it done.  Why can't things just work out?

So that is where we are at: halfway through forever.

I don't know if I can hang in there for another forever... or six weeks even.

Another Sad, Sad Tale of a Gift That Was, and Then Wasn't

(Like any sequel, this one is not near as good as the original.)

 I am sure, in reading the tale of the Christmas gift that never came, you asked yourself  "What did that miserable poor maiden get for Christmas?  Certainly she got something from her good husband." And the answer to your question, whether you asked it or not, is Yes, of course she got a present - a thoughtful and wise gift.  

After hearing his dear maiden call her bluetooth some of the same derogatory terms he had heard her call that small purse camera of hers, he decided to intervene, and possibly save the life of that tiny, helpless bluetooth.  So he purchased her an in-carriage bluetooth device, that attaches to the visor instead of on her ear.  It also converted her MP3 player to FM so the maiden's own ipod collection of  lyre music and minstrel's ballads could be played on the carriage radio.  Sure, it didn't take great pictures, thus not helping the torturous dilemma on Christmas morning, but it was a great gift, nonetheless.

So she brought it with her on the long ride to her Queen-in-law's house on Christmas Day hoping the new gadget would prove a distraction from the thoughts of the days events, and the pictures that might have been.  She managed to tear open the impossible plastic packaging, and pulled out device and the accompanying cords, instructions, papers, and pieces.  Distraught, and not being a technically minded maiden in the first place, she became overwhelmed but the tangle of chords, and techno-lingo instructions, and quickly gave up trying to sync her cell phone to the device.  (This is the same maiden who was given an XM satellite radio receiver for her Christmas last year, and it sat there until she got it installed as her birthday present 6 months later.)

The new Christmas present, and its parts remained splayed all over the front seat and dashboard of the Maiden's carriage, like the guts of a slain dragon, until well past the new year.   Finally, when the maiden came to her senses, and got past some of the grief over her lost camera, she realized that she had shamefully neglected the gift she had received, she remembered what her neglect had done in the past, and decided to take action, before it was again too late. So she shoved the device, and all of it's accompanying papers and pieces back into the torn open plastic packaging, so as not to lose all the pieces, and left it on the front seat, hopefully to be pulled out and used later.

Days passed, and then today, on this very day, the maiden had to take a long carriage journey to the far off land to Loma Linda Castle, with her brave knight, Dylan.  She grabbed her cell phone because she had a zillion phone calls to make on the ride.  But, search as she might, she could not find her old, little bluetooth anywhere!  Now, when she needed him, she discovered that he was gone.  Perhaps having grown weary of the name calling and badgery from the maiden, and knowing he had been replaced, the little bluetooth, now more blue than ever, had apparently run off with the pocket camera. 

 When would she ever learn?  Her despair was short lived, however, when the maiden remembered her new suitor, the Christmas gift blue tooth waiting patiently in the front seat for her to return.  She was saved!  She knew with a little love and patience, she would have a newer handsomer blue tooth installed and ready to use on her journey.

Rushing out to the carriage, she discovered that the package was not there.  Desperately she searched the seat of the carriage, and her little cottage as well, but it was not to be found.  Time was running short.  She had to get Knight Dylan to Loma Linda Castle before the stroke of midday.  She ran in and asked her husband where the Christmas gift was, where was the new bluetooth.  He declared that he hadn't seen it.  She exclaimed that she had put it all back into the plastic package so that she would not misplace all the pieces, as she had been heretofore done.  

"You put it all back in the packaging, you say?" asked her dear husband for clarification.

"Yes, of course!  Have you seen it?"

The husband's face fell as realization set in, and a cloud of agony lighted on his brow.  "Oh my dear.  All is lost.  I have thrown it away!  I have thrown it away."  Apparently, as he was taking the trash cans down the driveway to prepare for the coming of the great garbage trucks, he had most kindly leaned into the carriage to remove all the trash  that had accumulated therein.  Seeing the torn open plastic packaging on the front seat, he took it for garbage and tossed it into the can, the very same can that was later was dumped into the belly of the great garbage beast.  

Sadly, the love affair was ended before it had begun!  

The Christmas gift that was, was no more!

The husband, was most broken up about what he had done.  After all, it was his own hard earned money he had used to purchase the gift.  But alas, the misfortune of the maiden was not his fault.

Such is the luck if the fair maiden, or rather, such is what she deserved for not appreciating the gift  her loving husband had thoughtfully given her rather than pining hopelessly over the gift that could not be.

And thus ends the sad, sad tale of the gift that was, then wasn't.

AB Pattern

There is nothing as great as having a kindergartener in the house!

They begin to read and do math and the whole world around them seems to open up for them.  How fun it is to watch them incorporate what they are learning into their world.

Look what I discovered.  Someone was practicing their lettering on my antique molasses crock.  He did a nice job.  I should be furious. Writing on stuff is a serious "no-no."  But I can't bring myself to erase it.  It adds to the charm, don't you think?

This was my Christmas present from Caleb.  This is my 5th gilded macaroni frame with a picture with Santa.  I have one from each of my boys from their kindergarten days.  He was so excited for me to open it, and as soon as I tore the tissue paper off (with his help,of course) he exclaimed, "See!  It's an A B pattern!"  He was so proud - not of his darling picture with Santa, or of the beautiful gold frame, but of the A B pattern.  It took me a second to get it because it has been a few years since my kindergarten math.  He proudly pointed out how he had carefully arranged the holiday-themed macaroni in an A,B,A,B pattern. Santa, snowflake, Santa, snowflake, Santa - across the top, and sled, present, sled, present, sled - across the bottom.  Oh, of course - A B pattern!  He couldn't wait to show off his mathematical genius. 

Then the other day, Luke and Caleb wanted to help me make muffins.  It was a little chaotic with a 2 year old and a five year old in the kitchen.  But Caleb, and his aforementioned mathematical genius, announced a plan.  "I know.  AB pattern!" He arranged it so that he was A, Lukie was B.  He would break and egg, Luke would break an egg.  He would measure a half cup water, Luke would measure a half cup water.  Caleb would stir, Luke would stir.  It was very efficient.  Then he labled the rows of the muffin pan - A row, B row, A row B row.  Caleb put all the paper liners in the A rows, and Luke the B rows.  Luke, never having been to kindergarten, didn't quite grasp this higher-order math skill, which bugged Caleb to no end.  But the A B pattern muffins did get made in a somewhat orderly fashion, and they were delicious!

Now if I could get my kids to use an "A B C D E F G pattern" in such things as sharing the Nintendo DS, or choosing who sits in the best seat in the car.  I could put Caleb in charge of that. 

Milk Heist

I opened my eyes when I woke up this morning and jumped when I saw this:

I was staring down the barrel of a shiny pistol being wielded by a 2 year old.

He asked for milk.  I gave it to him.  What choice did I have?

Now there is a kid who knows how to get what he wants.  Should I be worried?

Me and My Big Mouth

Last night I messed up big time.  After a fun family trip to the Wild Animal Park, we were driving home.  We were almost home when Dennis' mom called on his cell phone.  I picked up the phone because Dennis was driving.  "Hey, this is Mom.  Tell Dennis the Chargers won in overtime."  So I relayed the message.  "Hey Dennis, your Mom says the Chargers won in overtime."  Before I could even get the words out, my always gentle and mild-mannered husband pounded the steering wheel.  He was furious.  My first thought was one of surprise.  I thought he liked the Chargers, and was baffled at why that would be bad news.

"I was taping that game!  You just ruined it for me.  Thanks a lot!" 

Suddenly the whole thing started coming together.  The fact that I had heard him mention the Chargers several times that day with the boys.  After all, we had been in San Diego.   And the term "big game tonight" had also come up a few times.  And then there was the fact that he had listened to some boring talk radio (not his usual sports talk) on the drive home, and later even switched to kids' music when he was getting tired.

Somehow my feeble brain had not been able to put 2 and 2 together.  Of course!  He was taping the "big Charger game" and that was why he didn't listen to the game on the way home.  He was looking forward to watching his game all day, and I ruined it for him with my big mouth.  Oh, I felt so bad!  So, so bad.

The really horrible part - as of that isn't bad enough already - is that as bad as I felt, and as sorry and I felt, I couldn't bring myself to apologize.  Instead I tried to defend myself.  "It's not my fault.  I didn't know you were taping it.  I was just relaying a message.  You shouldn't have gotten so mad.  Its just a game."  Even as I was saying those words I knew I was dead wrong.  It was just stubborn pride.

I also knew all too keenly, that if it had happened to me, if something that I had really been looking forward to had been ruined by someone's stupid mistake, I would have had a fit, and I probably wouldn't have dropped it until I had let off all my steam.  Yet I was upset by his short outburst of frustration.

When we arrived home he gave me a big hug, and he apologized to me for his outburst.

I suddenly realized that I was doing the exact same thing as one of my boys - something that drives us all crazy.  His knee-jerk reaction to any situation is always an automatic "It's not my fault!"  Gee, I wonder where my kid gets it from?  Not his father, to be sure.

The truth is that Dennis is almost ALWAYS the first to apologize - Not because is he WRONG, but because he is GOOD.

I need to learn from his example.

I do believe, to be fair, that if I were to have had a do-over, I probably would have told him about the Charger's win - only because really, truly, my brain is functioning at a minimum capacity lately, and to figure out that he was taping the game in the splitsecond between hearing the message and relaying it, was just way too complicated for me to have figured out.  There really was not any malice involved - pure stupidity, and I can't really fix stupidity, apparently.  But if I had it to do over, I would have used my big mouth to apologize - immediately and profusely, even if he was angry, instead of throwing up my usual defenses.

That is something I defiantely need to work on in 2009.  Apologizing - early and often.

And honey, I really am sorry!

A Walk on the WIld Side

  

This year we got the whole family season passes to the San Diego Zoo/Wild Animal Park.  Dennis took everyone to the zoo just before Christmas, and we all wanted to go to the Wild Animal Park together.  We were supposed to go on Friday.  Dennis got the day off work and everything.  We got everybody dressed and ready, food packed, medicine packed, etc. (no small task to get 8 people ready) and were about to climb into the car when the nurse called and said that she had orders to come and do a blood draw on Dylan that afternoon.  Aarrgh!  No trip to the Animal Park that day.  Then we had to wait for a shipment of medicine, which thankfully arrived late Friday night.

So Saturday we gave it another try. What a super fun time we had!  The weather threatened rain all day, but never came through on its promises, thankfully.

Turns out our whole family can fit on the back of a full sized rhino.  Maybe we should trade in our Suburban - grass mileage rather than gas mileage.

A monkey and an ape.

"Come back and play."

Enthralled by the elephants

How cute!

He's two.

Caleb's favorite - the white tiger.

Derek was the official videographer.

What's that behind you, Cabes?

My guys.

Adolescent male human...

and adolescent male lion.  

Practically similar.  They both eat and play all day.

My favorite animals were the lions.

No, that's not our Suburban.  It's his - now.

Simba stops a moment to enjoy a break in the clouds.

Even Rhino babies are cute.

Don't want to get too close to this guy.

A pretty view of the park.

A tram ride got us right close to the all the animal action.  Can you pick out Alex?

Licking a fence post - yum.

The Navigator consults his charts.

Cotton Candy = Joy

A sleeping mass of fuzzy polka dots.

 Can you spot (get it?) the giraffes?

That kid spend the whole day running off ...

or stubbornly planting himself wherever he felt like it, leaving Mom and Dad two options: chase or drag.  That got real old real fast.

What are they looking at anyway?

Think Pink.

We spotted and caught rare photos of this strange two horned creature coming through the underbrush.  I think it is a wildebeest - or a close cousin.

Good ol' Nate.

As a special holiday treat, they had a patch of snow there for the kids to sled on.

We even let Dylan try it...

though Mom was even more afraid for him than he was.

There were a lot of great holiday light displays at the park, but we all agreed that the lights at Wildlights at the Living Desert had been much, much better.

At the exit there was some real falling snow - foam actually.  Luke was very impressed.