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Archive for July, 2006

Life Was A Beach…

but I’m glad to be back home.

We left last Thursday for Myrtle Beach. Scott’s company paid for him and several co-workers to attend a convention there from Thursday thru Saturday. Once again, I didn’t have time to blog anything about my departure. I hate it when I’m rushed!

Cool thing is, the company paid for a 2 bedroom Condo.

Uncool thing – again, no internet connection.

But…Another Cool thing – we were able to convince our babysitter’s parents to let her join us, so Scott and I were able to attend some of the events together instead of me being stuck in the condo wishing I could join him and the other couples to the events. This also provided me with an opportunity to listen to a very good speaker. I left humbled and inspired – simply in the area of motherhood.

Lots of cool stuff there, but not my favorite beach. Will share more tomorrow. I’m gonna go chill before bed time!

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Stopping the Stop

Scott decided the older boys needed some fresh air after this morning’s drama. So, before I left for my appointment, I gave them his message – go weed the front yard, driveway, gardens, etc.

Would you believe that they not only were excited to leave their room, but they also had a great attitude about weeding? And when I got back…WOW. They did a great job. And the rest of the day they’ve been getting along great.

So now we know what to do: They must have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed at first! So send them back to bed so they can get up on the right side!

I’m SOOOOOOOO going to have to try that out myself…maybe like, every morning.

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STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!

I confess I’m not a morning person, but nothing irritates me more than to wake up and have to deal with my older boys arguing. Do you know how many times I’ve heard the word “Stop” this morning?

I’d already sent Big D upstairs to get ready (brush his teeth) because both boys came down talking and their breath reaked. BAD. I was already irritated with him because when I asked both boys if they’d brushed their teeth, he just chose to ignore me – that is – not answer my question, nor go brush his teeth, just stand their as his little brother went upstairs to brush his teeth and wait for his opportunity to open his big fat loud mouth again. (Did I mention I haven’t had my cup of coffee yet either?)

So I readress the issue, thank him for ignoring me, and send him up to brush his teeth. Instead, he decides to irritate his brother. “STOP!” I hear. “STOOOOP!”

“Boys! Come here NOW.” I command between clenched teeth. I have one hour to get ready for my OB appointment. I have two kids to get ready. I don’t have time for this.

Big D decides that he thinks N is “looking at him” so he splashes him over and over. The evidence is all over Nathanuel’s face – all over his wet face.

Big D was obviously in a mood. “What is up with you?” I ask.

“I didn’t get enough sleep. I got woken up…” That’s his tearful plea. Woken up? Oh, Honey. So did I. About 10 times last night. I went to bed early…in vain. Scott stayed up and read beyond when I planned on staying up, and finally put his book light away, and finally fell asleep…and I was still awake, listening to his heavy breathing in complete jealousy. Tossing and turning through the night…

At 4 a.m. I was wide awake, trying to decide if I should welcome the morning and risk being too tired to drive to my 9:45 appointment, or just try to go back to sleep. 5:45 I was asleep. 6 a.m., Scott’s alarm goes off. 6:30 I’m resetting my alarm to 7:30, just one hour of good sleep…please! 7:28 I’m turning my alarm off before it goes off and hop into the shower.

Back to the boys…

“Go back to bed.” I tell Donavan. “You obviously need to just go back to bed.” (and then I don’t have to deal with you at the moment).

He heads upstairs. “He’s giving me a look!” He yells back in that tattle-tale songy way as he makes his way upstairs.

“No I’m not!” Nathanuel answers back.

“D, just shut up and go.” Is this boy really 13? They are acting like the little ones!

N comes in. He has this habit of watching me, which again, not a morning person. Don’t watch me in the morning, I don’t care if it’s sweet, or if you… “Mom…can I have…”

Okay, not ready to serve. Just let me have my cup o’ coffee…

“Go do your checklist.” I order, buying me some time before I have to serve my children…
(Hey, I didn’t even get to take a shower alone this a.m. I snuck in the bathroom and both the little ones woke up 5 minutes later, stripping their clothes off while I’m washing my hair.) My “No, you can’t get in the shower with me” went unheard. My kids love showers, I should not discourage that, even if I am tired.

Back to N who is doing his morning checklist…

“Stop!” I hear again.

N is upstairs, reading his devotion, part of his checklist. D is trying to order him to leave their room. N is ignoring him instead of politely telling him he’s following mom’s orders. N likes to ignore his siblings just to get a rise out of them. He’s good at that. D is still being a butt head and won’t be ignored. He keeps talking, ordering Nathanuel get out, which prevents N from being able to concentrate on his devotion.

Is this what kind of day it’s going to be boys? I think NOT. Both of you, go back to bed. I have too much to do today, and not enough time…I am not putting up with this.

And now, I’m going to finish my cup of coffee, while I get ready for my appointment. 45 minutes to go…I’ll let the boys get up and dash out the door so they can have it out while I’m gone…and it is going to be a beautiful day, damn it! It is. Even if I have to keep my kids in bed all day, it IS going to be a beautiful day!

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Skipping Church

Last night I played the heathen. I skipped our Saturday night (and only weekly service) while Scott took the boys to church.

“What do you want me to tell people when they ask about you?” Scott asked.

“That I didn’t feel like coming.” I said. The truth. I did not feel like going.

I did not feel like playing church. Painting that smile on my face and answering, “I’m fine, good, great…everything’s just peachy…the baby is fine…yes, I’m getting excited, just as excited as I was last week and the weeks before…” You know, all the small church talk that people do. I just didn’t want to “play” church. And I know most people are sincere and caring, but…

I’ve been feeling worn out, physically achey, overwhelmed, and burned out, and to be honest, I feel a few people from church just drain me. I figured I’d be better off with my own time with God…ya know?

But as it turned out, Scott has been itching to play poker with someone, so we had invited another couple to come over and play after church so he could scratch his itch. (Okay, I really wanted to play too). When she called me back to let me know they definitely were coming over, she hesitated when she said, “I guess I’ll see you at church then.”

“Oh, I’m not going to church. Scott and the kids will be there, but I’m not going. I just don’t feel like going.” I said.

She cracked up laughing. Apparently, that was her plan too. She later decided to go only because they were going straight to our house afterwards, but I could tell she really really really didn’t want to go to church that night.

“Well, you can just come on over here and hang out if you want.” I said.

And she did. She brought her daughter, who had a blast with Hannah as they had their “girl time.” And this woman and I talked and talked and talked the entire time.

It was funny because she shared her testimony with me and I opened up with some personal stories of my own. We were able to share how God works in our lives and marriages and I ended up feeling encouraged and uplifted through our conversation. It was in a way, what I needed that night.

And I won’t go into the long details about how this occured, but that night, I ended up talking to our pastor on the phone after church. “We missed you tonight.” He said.

“Well, thank you.” I replied.

“Yeah, I heard you just decided to stay home and be lazy.” He teased. (really, he was teasing and I did not feel he was judging me in the least bit).

“Yup. I sure did!” I answered back honestly. He cracked up laughing.

It feels good to be honest and not really care what people think (that’s something I’m working on – not caring what people think about me). It feels good to not be bound by religious obligation. I’m finding a new freedom in being able to just be me and letting others decide how they want to handle it. Judge me or not (and yes, I do know some people in the church do choose to judge me), my decision is between God and myself…and the truth is, He blessed me through my interaction with this other woman last night. With where my heart was, I think God knew exactly what I needed to be encouraged, and as shocking and “wrong” as this may sound to many, going to church was not it.

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I have this dream a lot – where I’m attracted to a guy and he finally approaches me when once he approaches me or once we are out on our first date, I “remember” that I am married! Then I freak out because I don’t know how I could forget such a thing, especially when I look down and find a ring on my finger…

But last night was especially funny. See…I kept running into this man…this hunk of a hunk of a man, okay? I mean, tall, dark, handsome, ooh la la, are you real? kind of a man…and I was with my sister-in-law every time we saw him. (I think I worked with him or something). “He’s into you.” She’d say. I just know he’s going to ask you out. So several days pass where we keep running into each other and exchange smiles and glances. Once, I was even with a group of girls and they were all oohing and ahhhhing over him, acting like silly teenagers if you ask me!

So finally, while out with a group of girls taking a mountain hike, he happens to be hiking too. “Here he comes!” My SIL tells me. “He’s coming to ask you out…get ready!” I’m so nervous…and then I look down to find a big fat (at least 2-karat) diamond ring on my finger.

Panick

I’m married! How could I forget! Oh poor Scott, how could I forget about him? And then I look and within the group of girls is a woman with whom I’ve had some conflict with in real life…so she is there in my dreams and I realize that if he asks me out in front of all these women, she’s going to speak up and say something about me being married, and then he’s going to wonder why I’ve been smiling and exchanging glances with him…and my friends, what will they think? I’ve got to figure out how to talk to this man in person and explain things in private so this other woman doesn’t humiliate me…not to mention, go and tell my husband and everyone at my church about how I led this man on! I really hate it when I forget about such important details (like being married)!

So he finally makes it to the rocky area we all were hanging out at. Damn, he’s cute…and he’s walking this way. What do I do? What do I say? Wait a minute…he stops and smiles at me, then turns his head and asks the question…”Would you be interested in going out with me some time?”

Relief…

he’s asking my SIL!

I figure it out…the whole time he was smiling and exchanging glances with me, he was trying to figure out how to get to know me so he could get to know my SIL. Silly silly, me, what was I thinking? I’m safe.

Then…another dream…

I was rescued by Superman. Really! I wasn’t Lois Lane, but I was his Lois Lane as as we soared into the sky together.

And he saved me from the evil fat chinese man with the longish mustache and bald head who planted an explosive chip in my cheek. Yes, he did! Superman used his x-ray vision to find it and ever so gently pulled it out and threw it against the wall. It exploded, creating a crystal that he was able to grab and use to gather more information from his father.

The chip was originally implanted to brainwash me at just the right time and make me participate in some criminal activity that I didn’t want to participate in. The evil man also implanted the same chips into about 5 other women’s cheeks, including my sister-in-law’s. I saw an explosion by a building shortly before I was rescued and knew it was one of the women who had failed at her mission. I had a bad feeling it was my sister-in-law.

I expressed my concern to my hero that the evil man had kidnapped my two youngest kids. He was holding them hostage and threatened me with them because he suspected I’d some how managed to find a way to overcome allowing the chip to brainwash me and make me follow his commands. He was right. I was pretending to be obedient all along.

Superman told me not to worry. He’d get the kids back…then I realized for a brief moment in my dream that Superman was really my husband. I discovered my Scott, my hero, was really Superman! Ooh la la! I’m liking this dream, only, I’m not supposed to know he’s really Scott, so I have to pretend I don’t know, I’m just lucky my subconscious reveals this to me in the middle of my dream.

And we devised a scheme to take over the bad man’s plans and rescue my children (which were really our children, but I wasn’t supposed to know that Superman was my husband) and the other women with the explosive chips. But the coolest part of the dream was definitely flying with my super man. I wasn’t afraid of being up so high or shooting through the sky. I just held on tight and felt his strong arms holding me close. It was a beautiful moment.

And that is why I didn’t want to wake up…no no no! I like this dream! Close your eyes…go back to sleep. ugh. The kids are awake…duty calls!

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Help for Donavan

Donavan had an appointment with a geneticist on Tuesday and a NeuroPsychologist today.

Scott was able to take him to Tuesday’s appointment so I didn’t have to travel with 2 kids so early in the a.m. It went well. No problems. He said, as we’ve been told before, that his feet are normal. I told Scott this was the last time we have his feet checked on. They look weird to me, but all the experts say they are normal…the cute little knobs on his ears that make him look like an overgrown elf…not considered an abnormality either. What a relief. I was a bit concerned that his neurologist wanted him to see a geneticist, because anything genetically abnormal just sounds scary, but he’s healthy! Thank you, God!

Scott and I both went to the neuropsychologist appointment, but it was a waste of time for me because I ended up sitting in the waiting room with the kids the entire time. I could have slept in, or gotten groceries, or painted the baby’s room, or posted a blog. 😉 Grrrrrrrrr…

But it does sound like this woman knows what she is talking about. Our complaints that typically get blown off by his school teachers or that others don’t get because they don’t have to deal with it…she actually brought up and asked if we had issues in those areas. I was impressed with that. She recognized key issues we’ve been dealing with just by talking to him. (Hallalujah!) I don’t feel we are so isolated and alone now.

She even scheduled an additional evaluation appointment to test him for social disorders. I’ve suspected he has some problems in this area and I’m thankful that someone is taking the time to check this out. So he’ll have two appointments that will last 2-4 hours. I will take him to one, Scott said he made the other one on a date he would be available to take him.

Scott has been so helpful and supportive in all this, for which I’m thankful because I’m slowly but surely losing the energy I had during my second trimester.

I have a bit of hope that this school year may not be as much of a struggle for him and us. We’ve had some good Dr.’s here. Finally, hope, help, and soon we’ll have answers!

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So my kids have said a few cute or (not-so-cute but still funny) things lately…here are some to note: (Don’t worry, I didn’t go into a whole lot of detail on the first one).

On hemorrhoids

Last night Scott bought the kids their own packs of gum. I’d just gotten out of the shower, dressed and walked out of my room when Donavan walked up to me, chomping his gum and said, “Dad says my gum smells like hemorrhoid cream.”

I got a whiff of the potent stuff as he chomped up and down vigorously.

Whew! “Yeah, it does! Smells like Preparation H!” I teased.

“OH yeah? How do YOU know what it smells like?” He tried to tease back.

Oh, Honey…you should know by now this conversation is not going to embarrass me. “Because I’ve had to use preparation H before.” I answered back.

“You have?!?” Donavan asked in utter shock. “You had hemorrhoids?!! How did you get it?!!!” He looked at me in shock and disgust.

Oh the drama. Why is he being so dramatic? So, I explained the process of getting a hemorrhoid.

“Oh gross! But how did it happen?”

“What do you mean, Donavan?” I ask. I just explained it.

“How did you get it? Oh! I can’t believe my mom had an STD!”

Okay, I admit, I bursted out in laughter. STD? As in Sexually Transmitted Disease? Oh, Donavan, you weren’t paying much attention in your sex ed classes were you?

“Donavan, hemorrhoids is not an STD. I already told you that.” Scott interjected…as he shook his head.

“It’s not? Then what is it?” He didn’t seem to believe his dad…

“I just told you!” I said.

He still didn’t quite get it, but said, “Oh good! I’m so glad my mom didn’t have an STD! I was wondering what you must have done to get one! That would be embarrassing! I was about to be upset!”

A Misunderstanding

The kids were upset that Dad had to go back to work the next morning. “I wish Dad never had to work.” Pacey whined. Yeah, me too!

Then later that evening, Pacey ran up to me excited. “Mom! Dad told me that he will quit working on 7 Sundays!”

“Seven Sundays? Wow! Alright!” I exclaimed, wondering what the heck Scott was telling our son.

“Yeah!” He said.

Later that evening, I told Scott what Pacey said. He laughed. “He really said 7 Sundays?”

“Yes he did.”

“Wow. That’s funny because he came up to me and asked me when I can quit working and I told him in about 20 years.”

20 years…7 Sundays. I can see where the misunderstanding took place in a 5 year-old’s eager little mind…can’t you? 🙂

A Song for Dad

Hannah loves to sing, and yesterday, as she waited for me to brush her hair in my bathroom, she really started to belt it out. Since dad was at work for the first day after a long vacation, she dedicated her first song to him…

“Oh DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDY…I LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOve Hiiiiiiiiim…..and he’s my Daaaaaaaaaaaaad.” She sang as loud as she could. How sweet! I loved hearing her sing about her dad…and oh how she sang! It touched my heart. I don’t know if I ever sang a song about my dad, I can’t remember what I was like at 3, but I don’t remember ever feeling that close to him. It blessed me to hear her sing of her love and admiration for her dad.

“What a sweet song!” I complimented.

“Mom?” Hannah called out to me.

“Yes?”

“Jesus LOOOOOOOVES me!” She said.

“Yes He does!” I answered back. She must be feeling pretty loved this morning.

“But Donavan Doesn’t love Jesus!” She said in her dramatic tattle-tale little way.

I laughed. She was trying to get Donavan in trouble!

“Yes he does!” I answered back. “Hannah! Don’t say that…Donavan does love Jesus.”

“He does!?” She asked, as if excited…trying to be cute. “Oh! And I love Jesus!” She said. (Got to draw the attention back to her of course).

Yes, Yes, I know.

Copies

“Mom, look. This Superman has bullets on him!” Pacey exclaimed as he pointed to the little action figure. Sure enough, they created a Superman with bullets ricocheting off the Man of Steel’s buff bod. Pacey was trying to pick out a birthday present with the birthday money his grandma sent him.

“Do you remember in the movie when the bad guy shot the gun at him and the bullet hit his eye and his eye broke the bullet?” He asked. I nodded my head yes. “That was funny.” He said.

“And then the copies got him, right?”

Copies? Who were the copies?

Oh! He means cops!

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