School Days!

Oldest Boy really seems to be enjoying school. It was touch and go at first, but I think he's going to be just fine. Yesterday, for the first time, he got into the space shuttle all excited and couldn't wait to tell me about his trip to the library. He got a book! About astronauts! And they have books! About Star Wars! But they're for older kids (he thinks they're called "chapter books"). And next week! He gets to get another book! (all of this was spoken at approximately the speed of light).

Star Wars is one of his favorite things. Period. To talk about. To watch. To build legos of. To dress up as. Etc. Etc. We even bought a Jango Fett costume for halloween ($65!), but we'll get our money's worth because they dress up every.single.time.it.rains. Literally. As soon as the first rain drop hits the window I hear, "Time for costumes!" When he tried it on and it was a little big he said, "That's OK. I can wear it for longer that way." Costumes are not a one-time affair at our place. Halloween just means they get candy for doing it.

And, because it's Friday, it's time for our quote of the week. I have to say, this one we are not proud of, but here it is:

I want to preface this by saying Youngest Boy is at the stage where he asks what everything is. Even stuff he already knows and understands. Everything!

I was singing the B-I-B-L-E song to Baby Girl (you sometimes - OK always - have to sing to get her to finish her breakfast)...
Youngest Boy: "What does that spell?"
Mommy: "Bible."
Youngest Boy: "What's Bible?"
Mommy: "It's the word of God. It teaches how to be a Christian."
Youngest Boy: "What's a Christian?"
Mommy: "Someone who believes in Jesus Christ." - over-simplified, I know, but he's 3!
Youngest Boy: "What's Jesus Christ?"
Oldest Boy: "That's Jesus! You know, Jesus Christ is Jesus and God is God dammit, right Mommy?"
Mommy: "Where's your father!"

I immediately said a prayer that he would NOT explain this to his Kindergarten teacher in his new Catholic school! Oy!

Warning! Poop Ahead!

Youngest Boy has been having some tummy woes lately. I'll spare you the gory details, but we're going to have him seen by a gastroenterologist in a couple of weeks just to have things checked out. We eliminated dairy for a few days, with no results and our pediatrician is stumped. He doesn't have a lot of problems, but it has been going on long enough that we're concerned (not to mention tired of having to wash undies at an alarming rate). One of the thoughts our pediatrician had was that he may be at the early onset of Celiac disease. I have my doubts, but because I'm nuts I decided to research it on the 'net. Some of the symptoms include:

*Recurring gas with abdominal pain
*Tooth discoloration
*Unexplained rash
*Foul-smelling stool

Wait. What the? So seriously? There are people out there whose shit doesn't stink?!?!

First Day Drama

So, how was your kid's first day of school? Good? Glad to hear it. Mine? Uh, interesting, to say the least. It started off pretty normal. I stood on the front porch and waved good-bye. Youngest Boy came out with me and when he saw me tearing up he started rubbing my hair and sniffling right along with me. It made me realize that someone still needs me and is there for me to hold when I need to.

There were phone calls from friends and family (thanks, guys) and there were a few moments when I considered jumping in the space shuttle and going to pick him up, but I survived. The hardest part was lunch when I was preparing it for Youngest Boy and Baby Girl and I looked in the cupboard and saw Oldest Boy's little red plate sitting there...unused. {SIGH} I realized he was having a meal without me and I was sad. REALLY sad. But I sucked it up and moved on. I kept busy (cleaning all 3 bathrooms and baking - of course - cupcakes with Youngest Boy). Then it was time to pick him up! Yeah! A mere 30 minute drive and I would have my baby back where he belonged!

But what's this? A line at the school? Around the block? No worries. I thought I was early, but I'll correct for it tomorrow. I'll just stop the space shuttle here behind this other vechicle and wait my turn. Uh oh. I must be in this gentleman's way. HI! Am I in your way? Would you like me to move?

"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT BEING IN FRONT OF MY DRIVEWAY!!! MOVE BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE!!! I WILL HAVE YOU TOWED!!! I DON'T HAVE TO WAIT FOR YOU TO MOVE TO BE ABLE TO GET OUT!!!

Yep. I made quite an impression on the neighbors near Oldest Boy's school. Well, really just one really mean, crotchety OLD man. Who will remember me tomorrow when I park my ass in front of his driveway again and hand him my cell phone and the number to the police department. Who does he think he's dealing with? A sane person who would just let it go? He's WRONG! I am THE MOMMY! No one talks to me like that (again) and gets away with it! Yeah, I moved, but I was already an emotional wreck. I just wanted my boy back. But tomorrow? I'll be ready.

Orientation (NOT the First Day of School)

Yesterday was the semi-big day. We all handled it well, I think. Of course, we got to sit in the cafeteria and have coffee and donuts with the other parents while Oldest Boy was a few doors down, so we never really left him alone. He seemed more nervous than excited, but he did get up at the butt-crack of dawn (before, really), got dressed, made his bed and brushed his teeth all without my telling him. He was very proud of that! Hopefully, we'll keep that up as the school year progresses. He's never been one I've had to drag out of bed. Usually, he's the one dragging me out of bed. He has this fantastic trick of sliding his hand under my pillow which feels like something's crawling there. Yeah. Exactly. I usually get up after that. {shiver}

A few photos:

Yes, that's me, holding on for dear life.

All smiles before we walked in... And then the nerves hit...but Daddy was there to make it OK.

Cramming It All In!

T minus 21 hours and counting. Oldest Boy's first summer vacation is coming to a close and I have decided to cram as much as humanly possible into the last week.

We've gone in the sprinkler (one of us for the first time...):

Went to visit my Aunt Elaine, down on the farm:

This time when Baby Girl said, "Wook! COW! MOOOO!" she was right!

Thank you, Aunt Elaine, for using your finger as a nipple to entice the soon-to-be weaned calves!

Flew kites (also on the farm, am I a multi-tasker or what?):
Visited Grandma:
Also, got check-ups and hair-cuts and last minute school supplies. I'm exhausted, but it has totally kept my mind off of the fact that he'll be under someone else's care for 6+ hours every day of the week. This has worked for me, but not so much for Youngest Boy. When I told him that Mr. MOTH and I were going to be spending the first day of school (a 2-hour Orientation) with Oldest Boy, and that my aunt was coming to watch him and his sister, he said, "But I need my brother to help me watch Aunt Jo! Who will help me watch Aunt Jo?! I need my brother!" Poor little guy. I think I didn't expect it to effect him as much as it is. I'm hoping that once he realizes that he'll get my undivided attention during Baby Girl's naptime it will make up for it...

Check-Ups

Both Oldest Boy and Baby Girl had well-child check-ups with our pediatrician last week. Oldest Boy had his 5 years check-up and Baby Girl had her 18 month.

Baby Girl is 31 1/4 inches tall and weighs 25 1/4 lbs. She's growing like a weed, but the big news is that she's now on par for her physical development. WOOHOO! This means that our pediatrician is comfortable with us stopping physical therapy. We have a therapy appointment scheduled for Tuesday morning, and after that I believe we'll be done.

Oldest Boy (who is really 5 1/2 now) is 46 inches tall and weighs 48 1/4 lbs. He's in the 75th percentile for both height and weight. He's also darn near perfect. He's got a few nervous habits that she'd like to see him grow out of, but I think everyone I know has at least something that they do. So, the question of the day is: What's yours? Do you bite your nails? Talk to yourself (who doesn't?)? Whistle? What? Leave it in the comments. It's easy. Just click on the comments button and type away! Come on! It will make me feel a lot better about the fact that Oldest Boy rubs his fingers together when he's nervous or excited...

And if you were looking for our quote of the week on Friday, sorry to disappoint. I'm planning an Olympics post after they're over, and most of our quotes are from that. However, here's one for ya:

The number of the day on Sesame Street is the number 5...
Mommy: "Who do we know who is 5 years old?"
Boys: "Oldest Boy!"
Mommy: "Who do we know who is 1 year old?"
Boys: "Baby Girl!"
Youngest Boy: "Who do we know who is 3 years old?"
Boys: "Youngest Boy!"
Mommy: "Who do we know who is 36 years old?"
**crickets chirping**
Mommy: "Mommy!"
Oldest Boy: "Doest that mean Daddy is 100?"

Visiting Grandma

Being a mommy to 1, 2, 3 (or more) kids is a full-time, all-consuming job. Caring for an elderly individual is also a full-time, all-consuming job. My mother-in-law (who is now 80 years old) lived with us for 5+ years (that's 5 of the first 6 of our marriage, in case you're wondering). She is unbelievably sweet and just about as non-confrontational as you can get. Having her live here wasn't any trouble...at first. But, as elderly folks sometimes do, she became more needy and a lot more confused. Mr. MOTH and I had agreed from the get-go that she would live with us until one of two things happened. 1) She began to need physical care (i.e. help with bathing or using the restroom, etc.) or 2) It became a danger to either her or our children for her to stay here.

To make a long story short, both things began to occur simultaneously. For me, the fear and stress of having to leave her home alone at any time began to wear on me (she smokes - only outside - but that should say it all). It also became dangerous for her in that she would sometimes walk to the mailbox and not know where she was in relation to the house. It became dangerous for our kids when she started dropping her medications and then forgetting about them. When the boys picked up her pills from the kitchen table one night, I knew we were coming to the close of an era. It was unbelievably difficult for me to have to make this decision. I felt a lot of pressure to keep things status quo, but because it's not a static situation, things HAD to change. My sister-in-law (one of four sisters and a brother to Mr. MOTH) picked up the slack and my MIL now lives with her and her husband. There are not two nicer or more patient people in the world, as far as I'm concerned. And yet, the stress and strain is still hard on them, as well.

Because of this, I've decided to do as much as I can to help her out. She pays someone to come in on the days she has to work (she's a nurse and works 3 days a week for 12 hours, which means she's away from home sometimes as much as 15 hours at a time), but this woman is only there for 1-2 hours. My plan is to go and have lunch and spend some time with MIL while SIL is working, just to alleviate some stress as often as I can. It's not much, but because I live an hour and a half away AND I have 3 small children, it's the best I've got right now. I wish it was more. I wish other people would do more. I wish no one had to do anything, but that's not feasible, either. I've decided to have "the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference", God-willing. It's hard, but there it is.


Today was our first trip over and the kids had a great time. They got to spend time at their Aunt and Uncle's house (although they were kinda ticked that they weren't there) and they enjoyed spending time with Grandma. It was a lot more work than I thought it would be, but I did that to myself. I made sure to take a few things for MIL for lunch as well as packing lunch for myself and the kids. I also had to take toys, a highchair, and a gate (for their stairs now that Baby Girl knows how to walk). I also decided (God only knows why) to bake brownies to take along. My MIL has the worst sweet tooth I've ever seen, so I knew she'd appreciate it.

My big question now is whether we made things better or worse. Sometimes when you change a person's routine (meaning a person with diminished memory and mental capacity), you make things worse. But sometimes the comfort of knowing that someone else is there who can take care of "things", whatever they may be, also helps. I guess we'll just have to wait and see. Hopefully my SIL will come home and everything will be hunky-dory. I'm hoping my MIL at least remembers we were there, but even if she doesn't, we left evidence. :)

Crazy Windows

Oldest Boy had an eye appointment yesterday and we were all expecting to come home with glasses. Mr. MOTH and I are both extremely near-sighted and it will not be a surprise when all of our children need corrective lenses. Last year, he was just slightly near-sighted and the doc (who I just love!) recommended waiting until he was in school before saddling him with glasses. His words were, "If it was you, I would give you glasses for driving, but because I don't expect him to be driving anywhere, we'll wait."

This year, his vision is roughly the same and his astigmatism has disappeared (can that happen?), so NO GLASSES! WOOHOO! I got my glasses at age 4 and Mr. MOTH got his in second grade, so we're both happy he won't have to worry about it. Yet.

Now, when I need to take one child somewhere in the evening, we usually meet Mr. MOTH at the location and switch off vehicles and children. This means that he takes the space shuttle (our minivan) and the extra children and I take his New! Shiny! VW. This makes me eternally happy because I don't have to listen to Elmo's world the entire time I'm driving. And because I don't bring any children's CD's either, I get to listen to grown-up music. Aaaahhh. Nice.

As an added bonus yesterday, the funniest thing ever happened. Oldest Boy is riding in his booster seat on the passenger side, back seat. He pushed the window button (I'm sure just to see what would happen) and it scared the beejezies out of him! We were driving 72, uh, I mean 65 mph so the sound alone freaked him out. But then he sort of giggled and put it down again. Peals of laughter. So I locked the windows. He says, "Sorry, Mummy, I think I broke it!" The wheels start turning and I decide to mess with him a little bit. He's not touching anything and I put his window down. Screaming with laughter! Actually bent over holding his belly! The window goes back up and I start to worry that he's going to pee his pants! I do this a couple more times with the same results. Then I get creative and put the window on the other side down. He is hysterical with laughter! It's a 40 minute drive home and he is belly-laughing the whole way! I was so worried about this appointment and it ended up being one of the best times I've had with him in a long time. I'm glad, because in less than two weeks he goes off to school and my times alone with him will be fewer and further between. {SIGH}

And if you didn't see the humor in this story, you're not alone. I think you had to be there...

Olympic Memories 2008

Oldest Boy: "Mommy! Come quick! They're playing hockey in the water!"
Mommy: "That's not hockey, that's water polo."
Oldest Boy: "But there's a net!!" (spoken as if there could be any other game with a net. Go Pens!)

Oldest Boy: (on archery) "He got it in the middle but nothing exploded" (makes me worry about what they're showing on the Disney Channel these days...)

Mommy: "I didn't even know badminton was an Olympic sport!"
Oldest Boy: "Who gets the good mitten?"

Oldest Boy (on swimming): "Mommy, are those boys or girls?"
Mommy: "Can't you tell?"
Oldest Boy: "Well, they have bumps and you can tell by their hands. They're girls." - works for me!

*************
Childhood Olympics that I think our children would win gold medals in:

Building with Legos: The Star Wars version

Whining: We would take gold, silver, and bronze

Stuffed Animal Carrying: The object being to hold as many as you can while climbing up or down stairs. Youngest Boy will take the gold! He trains daily...

Cake Decorating 101

After I became The Mommy, something strange happened. No, I'm not talking about peeing when I sneeze. I discovered that I actually like to cook! I've always enjoyed baking (this is my form of stress release - if Mr. MOTH comes home and finds cookies, he almost immediately asks me what's wrong), but now I also like to cook! It used to be that I would just cook so that I could eat but it's more than that now. I think I've transferred my scientific abilities to the cooking realm. I take a recipe and slowly make it mine. I make notes about all of the variables that I change (being careful to never change more than one at time - in true scientific nature).

However, this means that, until I feel a recipe has been perfected, it's never the same twice. This drives some people nuts, but I like the variety. Sometimes it's better. Sometimes not. But overall, I don't really care much about the presentation of the food. If it tastes good, it's a winner. If it doesn't look good, well, that's OK. That being said, I tried to make my mom a "fancy" birthday cake yesterday. The boys love to help me with baking and decorating, so technically I could blame the finished product on them. It's supposed to be a sand castle. The fact that I have to tell you what it's supposed to be before you actually see the picture should tell you the outcome. Oldest Boy said, "It doesn't exactly look like the one in the magazine..." But it was delicious!


*************************
Note to George Lucas: If you're looking for an actor to play a young Obi-Wan Kenobi, I've found your man...

Finally! Friday!

This has been an exceptionally long week. I think Oldest Boy is more than a little bit nervous about going back to school, especially since he knows it will be at a different school than where he attended Preschool. Youngest Boy isn't getting the same amount of attention as the other two, and that's affecting his behavior. And Baby Girl is still a baby (don't even try to tell me different).

Yet, I still took them all grocery shopping. I think I must be a glutton for punishment. Although, every time we go, at least 2 or 3 people comment on how well-behaved my kids are. When we are in the produce department, they have this goofy thing they do. They pick up an avocado and say, "Mommy, is this a pickle?" *peals of laughter* *giggle* And, repeat. They do this until I'm done picking out my tomatoes and then we go back to being (fairly) well-behaved boys. In my mind, even this is not particularly bad behavior. Now, if they were beaning each other in the head with the fruit (or is an avocado a vegetable?) then I would say they were being naughty.

But yesterday, some woman decided to lecture me on proper parenting. About how, if she were me (she could only hope to be so lucky) she would take away any special treat I may have been planning to buy and how it would only take one time and then they wouldn't misbehave anymore, and on and on and on. If she would have just shut-up and let me walk away from the tomatoes, they would have also stopped. But nooooo. I had to just walk away, rather rudely, but I was only thinking of the produce. Because, really, who does she think she is? {SIGH}

And now, for the quotes of the week:

I decided that we would let the boys have one more late night before back to school, so I was putting Baby Girl to bed and Mr. MOTH was keeping the boys "quiet" downstairs. For several weeks we've been looking for a small part to one of Oldest Boy's toys to no avail. They started spinning tall tales about how it might have disappeared:

Youngest Boy: "Maybe a little tiny chicken came in and picked up the piece and took it away."
Mr. MOTH: "Don't you think we would have seen the chicken?"
Youngest Boy: "What chicken?"

Mr. MOTH: "Maybe a quirrel came down out of the tree in the picture and took the piece because he thought it was a nut and then he buried it."
Oldest Boy: "Are you kidding?"

Time for Time-Out

Baby Girl is 18 months old today! Obviously, her biggest accomplishment this months is walking! Really, I shouldn't even have to tell you. But, she's been busy learning a lot of other things, too. She can sing the Barney song (you know, "I love you. You love me. We bahdobadhorey ge!"). And last night for the first time she told everyone, Oldest Boy, Youngest Boy, Mr. MOTH, and me, "I love you." Plain as day. Oldest Boy said, "I think I'm about to cry!" She is definitely going to be a talker, that one. I don't know where she gets it...

And now, officially, she's old enough for time-out. She doesn't do a whole lot that's naughty, so we haven't really had to consider it, but to be fair the boys started at 18 months. With them, we were tempted to use it much, much sooner. If anyone ever tries to tell you there isn't a difference between boys and girls, tell them to call me. I'll set them straight. Here, some photos of her first trip to "the bench" (in all fairness, it wasn't as punishment; she asked me to put her there):

Look at me! Look at me!
Brother, you're next!
Can you tell her little legs are swinging?
All innocence.

When does it stop?

We had PT for Baby Girl this morning. She's walking close to 75% of the time (and nearly 100% of the time if I put her in a dress because she can't crawl in it. "I stuck!" she says. I have a few tricks of my own...) and she has met all of her original goals. So when do we stop? Miss Cheryl (Baby Girl's therapist) is on vacation next week and when she returns she's going to bring out a chart so we can plot our girl's progress against what's considered "normal" for her age group. I have no idea when a baby is supposed to be able to run. The boys stood up, took a few steps, and then ran and never stopped. If only I would have know about this back then...

As long as we're comfortable, she can stop any time. My only concern is that we'll stop too soon and have to start the whole bloody early intervention process again. Red tape, you know. It took more than 6 weeks before she had her first PT session because of all of the "interviews" and "evaluations" we had to go through. It's not costing us money every week (although I know we pay for it with tax dollars), so in the long run it was worth it. If we ever even think we might have to do this again, I'm calling immediately because now I know how it works. If we had truly had a special needs child, I would have pulled my hair out long before we ever got started.

A Source of Happiness?

I don't know a lot about advertising. What I do know is that people are very susceptible to any suggestion that something might make them happy. In a day and age where nearly every.single.person struggles to lose some weight, be it 5 pounds, 50 pounds, or 150 pounds, is it really necessary for McDonald's to hawk their artery-clogging meals as "A Source of Happiness"? Don't get me wrong, it tastes great. And it's OK for everyone to enjoy an occasional treat. But when you live in a country with an alarmingly high rate of both obesity and clinical depression, do we really need to push people further into both?

I first noticed this slogan on my kids' happy meals bags. Yep, that's right. We eat McDonald's food. But not as a "source of happiness". It didn't bother me too much at first because, well, my kids can't read (at least not big words like happiness). But then I heard it on TV (my kids can hear) and I felt compelled to speak out, even if it's only to my 3 loyal readers. I hate to say it, but we're not going back for awhile. At least until they stop trying to tell people that happiness comes in a vat of oil.

My source of happiness? Half of it is working downtown. The other half is all curled up on our bed watching commercial-free TV.

Mall bound

Riddle me this. What's the use of putting a security device on something if we can still leave the store with it? We drove the whole way to the mall last night to pick up a few school clothes (I don't want to talk about it. lalalala) and we managed to leave the store with the ink tags still attached. I know how they work. I was in retail a long time before I became a big-time analytical chemist, but it still irritated me that I then had to drive the whole way back to the mall again today just to have them removed.



And remember, I'm married to someone who was surely trying to figure out a way to remove them himself. Surely. It's what he does. He once disassembled the back seat of his parents' car simply because they left a screwdriver within his reach. Do they not realize the amount of convincing it requires to get someone like this to let me go to the mall (by myself - heaven!). I guess I owe them a bit of thanks afterall.