Before and after--This is a shot of me in April and one from today. . .getting closer and closer to goal!
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Photos
Lately I only seem to be posting when a special event occurs, which means that J. doesn't get his picture on here much! (Not that he isn't special--just that he is still young enough to mainly be a spectator and not the star!) So, today when I was taking pics of R's mouth, he walked up and stuck his face in the camera and said "Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese!" Guilt immediately engulfed me. . .here he is!
Before and after--This is a shot of me in April and one from today. . .getting closer and closer to goal!
Before and after--This is a shot of me in April and one from today. . .getting closer and closer to goal!
Soccer
Well, I finally got some photos of a soccer game. They are not very close up, because I refuse to be one of the MANIAC parents who paces up and down the field with the kids and yells at them the whole time. SERIOUSLY--there are people on the field called coaches! They volunteered--get the hell out of their way. If you want to be in charge, sign up to coach a team. Some parents (one of whom shall remain nameless but lives in the same house as me, and is not me) seem to want to give their kid all kinds of instruction the day of the game, and yet, never take a random evening after dinner to kick the ball around and go over some drills. . .hmmmm. . .I think that practice time and game day are the coach's time. Parents should stay in their little fold out lawn chairs and limit their comments to things like "Good job, Johnny! Way to go!" Nobody cares what I think. . .
Anyway--They have great coaches. They strike just the right balance of emphasizing learning skills and remembering that they are still little kids that don't need to be harped on like professionals. I really like them. All of the kids on the team are improving each week, and I think it is because the coaches make the game fun and exciting and they want to do better each game.
N. is getting really good. He has always been good at defense, but he was a little timid on offense. He would wait for them ball to come to him, and he would just kick it away--like he didn't want the responsibility of handling it. Now, he will go after the ball anytime. He has also gotten good at maneuvering himself to an open position so his teammates can pass to him.
He's great at goalie. S. was pretty excited when N. decided he wanted to play goalie. He had never pushed him to play goalie. I don't think he ever even mentioned it, except in conversation that included all of the positions. He didn't want N. to choose something just because he liked it. But, when he decided to try out for goalie, S. was pretty happy. And then when he turned out to be good at it, S. was really happy! He is not scared to jump on the ball--even with all those kids feet flying at him. Of course, it makes me very nervous. Not that he will get hurt, but that the ball will get passed him and he will be crushed that they scored on him! He has been scored on once, but he has saved dozens of shots!
Today was a really good game. They played really hard and worked well together as a team. They didn't win, but I don't think they really noticed that much. Their coach does a great job of emphasizing to them how well they did and how they are improving, so they go away from the field feeling good about themselves. (And, of course, there are alway snacks--win or lose!)
Supernumery Tooth Surgery
On Thursday, R. had his mouth surgery to remove his extra tooth. It was up where his permanent teeth are and was making the two right front teeth turn completely sideways.
First, let me tell you that we had a consultation at the military hospital oral surgery clinic in August. This would have made the surgery free, but my gut just told me not to do it there. First, the doctor was a resident. He never introduced himself, but seemed intent on not letting me know that he was a student. He kept saying "I need to consult with my staff. . ." After about the 10th time I wanted to scream "Do you mean you need to ask your teacher because you don't know the answer?!" I understand that everyone has to learn sometime, but I like medical professionals who are willing to say "I don't know the answer. I'm going to find out." Then I know that they are aware of their own limitations and willing to work within them. I don't need some cowboy with a scapel getting near my kid's mouth.
After consulting with "his staff" he concluded that due to R's age (and the fact that I was barraging him with questions) he had decided that they would do general anesthesia in the operating room and intubate him. He also said that permanent damage could be done to the nerve in R's mouth and to the permanent teeth. He ALSO said we could always wait a few years, because his permanent teeth won't be coming in for at least 3 years.
The next day he talked to S. on the phone and S. asked him a list of questions I had made. One was how many times have you done this surgery. The answer "A couple, but my collegue (read teacher) has done a few more." What the HELL does that mean? Several? Three? Whatever. . .you aren't getting your hands on my kid. I know everyone has to be a student, but find another practice dummy. He told S. that they determined that it was too dangerous to do the surgery because of R's age and we should wait until he was at least 5--remember this later. . .it's important.
After these phone calls, I called the civilian guy that the dentist had referred us to orginally. He was the Chief of Oral Surgery at the military hospital before he retired, and has been in private practice a LONG time. He's done this literally 1000's of times. He had done 2 the day I called. I asked him a lot of questions about what I should do. He had actually suggested that I try the military hospital first, since I hadn't thought of it. Anyway--he said it would probably be fine to go to the military hospital because the attending surgeon would keep a close eye on the resident. I decided to go to him instead. So that brings us to Thursday.
We got there at 8am. They put some cream stuff on R's arm to numb it so he wouldn't feel the IV. In about 10 minutes I carried him to the room for the surgery. They put laughing gas on his nose for a few minutes. I was supposed to leave at that point, but I decided to stay until they got the IV in. I was talking to R. and keeping him occupied so he wouldn't notice what was going on with his arm. I'm glad I stayed, because it took 30 minutes to get the IV needle in a vein. The doctor is VERY GOOD, but he's just small and his veins are hard to get to. They tried at his elbow, then they put some numbing stuff on his hand and started checking his other arm while the cream had time to work.
They eventually went back to the orginal arm and used his hand. The numbing stuff combined with the gas must work, because he never noticed what they were doing. Even when they said "You're going to feel a pinch." He didn't feel it. At one point, I looked at his arm and it was a scary blotchy purple color from the tourniquet being on so long. That brought tears to my eyes, so I quit looking at it.
Once the IV was running, they got set to put the sleep medicine in it. I did not want to leave him there until he was completely asleep, but I wished I hadn't watched him fall asleep. He was very groggy from the gas, but all of a sudden his head rolled sideways, and his eyes were still open and they rolled back. I didn't like it. I wish I hadn't seen that. I keep seeing it over and over. Even though I know it is normal and that is what is supposed to happen. I just didn't like it.
So--I went back to the waiting room, called and checked on J. who was with my friend. I read one article in a magazine and in less than 20 minutes they came and told us that they were putting in the last stitches. The whole surgery was quicker than the IV! They said they would move him to the recovery area (right behind the reception desk) and we could go back there. A few minutes later I heard him crying and I jumped up. I was already going to the door when she opened it to get us. She told me to get my stuff, but I just kept walking past her and left S. to get the purse and stuff. A nurse was between R. and I and she said "He isn't in pain, he's just confused by the anesthesia." I said "Fine, but move! If he's confused OR in pain, he needs me!" So, I went around the corner and he was laying in a bed and the doctor was standing over him rubbing his hair back off of his forehead and talking to him.
He was a little confused, but mostly he didn't like that the roof of his mouth was numb. He kept sticking his finger in his mouth to scratch it. Finally, I convinced him to suck his thumb and I wrapped him in a blanket and sat down with him. Everyone in the office was running around getting him toys, offering him a ride in the wheelchair, whatever they could think of to get him to stop crying. This child had every woman in that office charmed! The receptionist (who also happens to be the doctor's wife) has already decided which granddaughter she wants him to marry!
The were all so great. This doctor is just absolutely GREAT! He put the stitches between R's teeth (remember he's still small so there are still spaces between his teeth) so that food doesn't bother them. Other than the fact that there are 3 black strings in his mouth, you can't tell anything happened. No blood, no swelling, no bruises--nothing! This guy explained every single step to R. at the consultation and again at the actually surgery day. He was just so good with him. I think being a parent changes you forever, but so does being a grandparent. It was very touching to me to walk into that recovery area and see him leaning over brushing R's forehead with his hand. It just seems more telling even that the quality of the surgery or anything else.
He told us that within a couple of hours, R. would be up and running and playing. He was right! As soon as the numbness wore off, he was his old self. He is on a regular schedule of motrin, and all is well!
Oh--here's the thing. . .the doctor said that the surgery was a little more complicated that he had thought it would be (how quick would it have been if it hadn't had the complication? It was only 20 minutes anyway!) He said that the tooth had shifted a little in the 2 weeks since the xrays, and that it was not just a little tooth chip. It was a whole tooth, it had roots and it was growing. If we had waited 2 years, it would have tripled in size, and totally destroyed his permanent teeth. They would never have come in, because the supernumery tooth would have grown completely through them and the bone. . .(Always listen to your inner voice!)
The two permanent teeth will stay sideways. We will have to put braces on him pretty quickly after they come in, but other than that, there should be no issues. BECAUSE WE TOOK CARE OF IT THIS SOON!
So, today we got a HANDWRITTEN note from the doctor thanking us for trusting our child to him and telling R. that he was the best patient he ever had--even better than adult patients because anyone else would have been getting upset with the IV thing. He even thanked me for staying and helping R. stay calm! What a great guy! I love him!
We go back in a little over a week to have the stitches removed. Oh--we left the tooth out for the tooth fairy. It was a really weird looking tooth. It looked like a molar, instead of 4 sides, with 4 points on the bottom, it had 3 sides with 3 points on the bottom. And, one of the points was longer than the other 2--really weird. Anyway--the tooth fairy left 3 dollars. When R. woke up Friday morning, he hadn't had any Motrin for about 10 hours, so his mouth was sore. He handled this by crying and saying "I didn't want dollars! I wanted pennies!" Do you suppose he will EVER say that again?
First, let me tell you that we had a consultation at the military hospital oral surgery clinic in August. This would have made the surgery free, but my gut just told me not to do it there. First, the doctor was a resident. He never introduced himself, but seemed intent on not letting me know that he was a student. He kept saying "I need to consult with my staff. . ." After about the 10th time I wanted to scream "Do you mean you need to ask your teacher because you don't know the answer?!" I understand that everyone has to learn sometime, but I like medical professionals who are willing to say "I don't know the answer. I'm going to find out." Then I know that they are aware of their own limitations and willing to work within them. I don't need some cowboy with a scapel getting near my kid's mouth.
After consulting with "his staff" he concluded that due to R's age (and the fact that I was barraging him with questions) he had decided that they would do general anesthesia in the operating room and intubate him. He also said that permanent damage could be done to the nerve in R's mouth and to the permanent teeth. He ALSO said we could always wait a few years, because his permanent teeth won't be coming in for at least 3 years.
The next day he talked to S. on the phone and S. asked him a list of questions I had made. One was how many times have you done this surgery. The answer "A couple, but my collegue (read teacher) has done a few more." What the HELL does that mean? Several? Three? Whatever. . .you aren't getting your hands on my kid. I know everyone has to be a student, but find another practice dummy. He told S. that they determined that it was too dangerous to do the surgery because of R's age and we should wait until he was at least 5--remember this later. . .it's important.
After these phone calls, I called the civilian guy that the dentist had referred us to orginally. He was the Chief of Oral Surgery at the military hospital before he retired, and has been in private practice a LONG time. He's done this literally 1000's of times. He had done 2 the day I called. I asked him a lot of questions about what I should do. He had actually suggested that I try the military hospital first, since I hadn't thought of it. Anyway--he said it would probably be fine to go to the military hospital because the attending surgeon would keep a close eye on the resident. I decided to go to him instead. So that brings us to Thursday.
We got there at 8am. They put some cream stuff on R's arm to numb it so he wouldn't feel the IV. In about 10 minutes I carried him to the room for the surgery. They put laughing gas on his nose for a few minutes. I was supposed to leave at that point, but I decided to stay until they got the IV in. I was talking to R. and keeping him occupied so he wouldn't notice what was going on with his arm. I'm glad I stayed, because it took 30 minutes to get the IV needle in a vein. The doctor is VERY GOOD, but he's just small and his veins are hard to get to. They tried at his elbow, then they put some numbing stuff on his hand and started checking his other arm while the cream had time to work.
They eventually went back to the orginal arm and used his hand. The numbing stuff combined with the gas must work, because he never noticed what they were doing. Even when they said "You're going to feel a pinch." He didn't feel it. At one point, I looked at his arm and it was a scary blotchy purple color from the tourniquet being on so long. That brought tears to my eyes, so I quit looking at it.
Once the IV was running, they got set to put the sleep medicine in it. I did not want to leave him there until he was completely asleep, but I wished I hadn't watched him fall asleep. He was very groggy from the gas, but all of a sudden his head rolled sideways, and his eyes were still open and they rolled back. I didn't like it. I wish I hadn't seen that. I keep seeing it over and over. Even though I know it is normal and that is what is supposed to happen. I just didn't like it.
So--I went back to the waiting room, called and checked on J. who was with my friend. I read one article in a magazine and in less than 20 minutes they came and told us that they were putting in the last stitches. The whole surgery was quicker than the IV! They said they would move him to the recovery area (right behind the reception desk) and we could go back there. A few minutes later I heard him crying and I jumped up. I was already going to the door when she opened it to get us. She told me to get my stuff, but I just kept walking past her and left S. to get the purse and stuff. A nurse was between R. and I and she said "He isn't in pain, he's just confused by the anesthesia." I said "Fine, but move! If he's confused OR in pain, he needs me!" So, I went around the corner and he was laying in a bed and the doctor was standing over him rubbing his hair back off of his forehead and talking to him.
He was a little confused, but mostly he didn't like that the roof of his mouth was numb. He kept sticking his finger in his mouth to scratch it. Finally, I convinced him to suck his thumb and I wrapped him in a blanket and sat down with him. Everyone in the office was running around getting him toys, offering him a ride in the wheelchair, whatever they could think of to get him to stop crying. This child had every woman in that office charmed! The receptionist (who also happens to be the doctor's wife) has already decided which granddaughter she wants him to marry!
The were all so great. This doctor is just absolutely GREAT! He put the stitches between R's teeth (remember he's still small so there are still spaces between his teeth) so that food doesn't bother them. Other than the fact that there are 3 black strings in his mouth, you can't tell anything happened. No blood, no swelling, no bruises--nothing! This guy explained every single step to R. at the consultation and again at the actually surgery day. He was just so good with him. I think being a parent changes you forever, but so does being a grandparent. It was very touching to me to walk into that recovery area and see him leaning over brushing R's forehead with his hand. It just seems more telling even that the quality of the surgery or anything else.
He told us that within a couple of hours, R. would be up and running and playing. He was right! As soon as the numbness wore off, he was his old self. He is on a regular schedule of motrin, and all is well!
Oh--here's the thing. . .the doctor said that the surgery was a little more complicated that he had thought it would be (how quick would it have been if it hadn't had the complication? It was only 20 minutes anyway!) He said that the tooth had shifted a little in the 2 weeks since the xrays, and that it was not just a little tooth chip. It was a whole tooth, it had roots and it was growing. If we had waited 2 years, it would have tripled in size, and totally destroyed his permanent teeth. They would never have come in, because the supernumery tooth would have grown completely through them and the bone. . .(Always listen to your inner voice!)
The two permanent teeth will stay sideways. We will have to put braces on him pretty quickly after they come in, but other than that, there should be no issues. BECAUSE WE TOOK CARE OF IT THIS SOON!
So, today we got a HANDWRITTEN note from the doctor thanking us for trusting our child to him and telling R. that he was the best patient he ever had--even better than adult patients because anyone else would have been getting upset with the IV thing. He even thanked me for staying and helping R. stay calm! What a great guy! I love him!
We go back in a little over a week to have the stitches removed. Oh--we left the tooth out for the tooth fairy. It was a really weird looking tooth. It looked like a molar, instead of 4 sides, with 4 points on the bottom, it had 3 sides with 3 points on the bottom. And, one of the points was longer than the other 2--really weird. Anyway--the tooth fairy left 3 dollars. When R. woke up Friday morning, he hadn't had any Motrin for about 10 hours, so his mouth was sore. He handled this by crying and saying "I didn't want dollars! I wanted pennies!" Do you suppose he will EVER say that again?
Sunday, September 24, 2006
The Weekend
Well, I forgot to take the camera to the soccer field. Here's why. First of all--the game is at 8am so we have to be there at 7:30. We only live a few blocks away, and the good news is that there is still parking available that early, but still--it's early. Secondly, my kids dawdle. There's no other word for it. They just wander around the house like they have no where to be at any particular time. They get it from their father. It makes me nuts.
Anyway--we leave for the field and here is what we take with us: 2 soccer balls; 1 pair goalie gloves; 4 bottles of water; 2 packages of crackers; 2 packages of gummy fruit snacks; 16 juice boxes and 20 Capri Suns and 4 boxes of Little Debbies Brownies (it is our week to bring after game snacks--it is a good thing to bring enough for everyone's little brothers and sisters); 5 jackets; 1 pair of shoes that J. refuses to wear; 4 pairs of sunglasses; 1 pair of cleats; 1 pair of shin guards; and N. should be wearing as much of his uniform as I can find--shorts, shirt, socks.
So--I forgot the camera. He played great, but they lost. The kids seem to lose track of the score, so they don't really care much if they win or lose. They are more interested in running through the "tunnel" of parents and seeing what snack they get. Maybe I'll remember the camera next week!
Last night, S. and I went with some friends to the Fleet Week "Star Spangled Salute." This is the business leaders of the city putting on a black tie gala to honor the military. It is EXTREMELY expensive to buy tickets (we heard it was $2000 EACH, but we don't know that for sure) so it is the REALLY top business people in the area. Then the top military people in the area. Then 50 reserved tickets for junior officers (reserved means free). So, we got those. Anyway--originally I thought it was a navy event, and I was interested to see how theirs differed from ours. That's why we got the tickets in the first place. We found out later how it really was set up, but decided it would be fun to dress up and go anyway.
We had a pretty good time. We didn't dance, but we both met VERY interesting people. I may have found a connection to a potential job. I met the woman who planned the event (and is handling several of the other fleet week things). She has an event planning company that she runs from home and she hires people to work on a project basis! Anyway--it sounds promising--so keep your fingers crossed for me!
S. met a guy who is retired Army and is now the President of the Navy League here. (I think--I may have that title or organization wrong) Anyway--he was really nice, and had to come talk to us, because S. was the only one in an Army uniform in the room. We also met a retired marine who is the director of fleet week. He was really interesting to talk to and very nice. He and S. had several things to talk about, and I think S. may help him find out more about some local Army soldiers that the city can recognize with awards or whatever. Anyway--it was a nice night.
So. . .here is a picture. It is not a great one, we were rushing out the door, but it gives you some idea of how the weight loss program is going. I still have a ways to go, but I am down 4 sizes and I don't even remember how many inches! S. has lost quite a bit too. His blues jacket was REALLY loose!
Anyway--we leave for the field and here is what we take with us: 2 soccer balls; 1 pair goalie gloves; 4 bottles of water; 2 packages of crackers; 2 packages of gummy fruit snacks; 16 juice boxes and 20 Capri Suns and 4 boxes of Little Debbies Brownies (it is our week to bring after game snacks--it is a good thing to bring enough for everyone's little brothers and sisters); 5 jackets; 1 pair of shoes that J. refuses to wear; 4 pairs of sunglasses; 1 pair of cleats; 1 pair of shin guards; and N. should be wearing as much of his uniform as I can find--shorts, shirt, socks.
So--I forgot the camera. He played great, but they lost. The kids seem to lose track of the score, so they don't really care much if they win or lose. They are more interested in running through the "tunnel" of parents and seeing what snack they get. Maybe I'll remember the camera next week!
Last night, S. and I went with some friends to the Fleet Week "Star Spangled Salute." This is the business leaders of the city putting on a black tie gala to honor the military. It is EXTREMELY expensive to buy tickets (we heard it was $2000 EACH, but we don't know that for sure) so it is the REALLY top business people in the area. Then the top military people in the area. Then 50 reserved tickets for junior officers (reserved means free). So, we got those. Anyway--originally I thought it was a navy event, and I was interested to see how theirs differed from ours. That's why we got the tickets in the first place. We found out later how it really was set up, but decided it would be fun to dress up and go anyway.
We had a pretty good time. We didn't dance, but we both met VERY interesting people. I may have found a connection to a potential job. I met the woman who planned the event (and is handling several of the other fleet week things). She has an event planning company that she runs from home and she hires people to work on a project basis! Anyway--it sounds promising--so keep your fingers crossed for me!
S. met a guy who is retired Army and is now the President of the Navy League here. (I think--I may have that title or organization wrong) Anyway--he was really nice, and had to come talk to us, because S. was the only one in an Army uniform in the room. We also met a retired marine who is the director of fleet week. He was really interesting to talk to and very nice. He and S. had several things to talk about, and I think S. may help him find out more about some local Army soldiers that the city can recognize with awards or whatever. Anyway--it was a nice night.
So. . .here is a picture. It is not a great one, we were rushing out the door, but it gives you some idea of how the weight loss program is going. I still have a ways to go, but I am down 4 sizes and I don't even remember how many inches! S. has lost quite a bit too. His blues jacket was REALLY loose!
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Toby Keith
We went on a real date on Sunday. We went to the Toby Keith concert and had a great time. It was really fun. I didn't take any pictures, but I wish I had, because it was a memorable night. He changed the words as he was singing some of the songs to be about soldiers. Like in "I love this bar" He changed on line to say "We got bad ass soldiers that pull all nighters." I just love how supportive and dedicated he is to the military. At the beginning of the concert he toasted the police, the firemen, the FBI and border patrol, and then the military. At the end, he said good night and left the stage. Of course, everyone knew he would do an encore so we waited about 5 minutes and then he came out and did American Soldier. I cried--as I do everytime I hear that song. They showed video of his trips to visit the troops. Some of the shots were from Camp Monteith from when our guys were there. S. was so excited. He goes--"Hey, that's Kosovo. That's the Big Red One! That's Monteith! I was there--I went to that show!!" The guy sitting next to us said "Really? Hey--thanks!" It was nice.
Of course, he wrapped up the show with Angry American. We all loved it, and at the end he said "God Bless our men and women in the Armed Forces. Fall in love with America, y'all!" And that's how he ended. What a sentiment. Fall in love with America. So--not only is he supportive of our military, but he just loves our country in general. That sounds obvious, but think about it. . .how many people relaly have that thought in their heads or hearts these days?
I will post some pictures in the next couple of days. N. has a soccer game Saturday, and S. and I are going to a very fancy dinner that night. I think I am brave enough to put some photos of myself up. . .we'll see how they turn out. I am still a little way off from my weight loss goal, but there has been a pretty significant change, so I may have the guts. We'll see! I am trying to find a "before" picture, but it turns out that I was pretty good at avoiding photos all together, or at the very least standing with LOTS of people in front of me! I'll try to come up with something!
Of course, he wrapped up the show with Angry American. We all loved it, and at the end he said "God Bless our men and women in the Armed Forces. Fall in love with America, y'all!" And that's how he ended. What a sentiment. Fall in love with America. So--not only is he supportive of our military, but he just loves our country in general. That sounds obvious, but think about it. . .how many people relaly have that thought in their heads or hearts these days?
I will post some pictures in the next couple of days. N. has a soccer game Saturday, and S. and I are going to a very fancy dinner that night. I think I am brave enough to put some photos of myself up. . .we'll see how they turn out. I am still a little way off from my weight loss goal, but there has been a pretty significant change, so I may have the guts. We'll see! I am trying to find a "before" picture, but it turns out that I was pretty good at avoiding photos all together, or at the very least standing with LOTS of people in front of me! I'll try to come up with something!
Monday, September 04, 2006
Who Cares?
I grew up in a small town, and went to the same school all 13 years. I made friends in kindergarten, and for the most part, we were all still together at graduation. Some new kids came in throughout the years, and that was fine, because I was secure and comfortable in my lifelong spot. I never realized that I didn't know how to make friends. I was GREAT at making friends! A new kid came in, and I was always showing them around, inviting them to stuff, inviting them to sit at my table at lunch (you know how intimidating lunchrooms are in school!) I had no problem making friends.
Then I went to college. Holy crap, what a shocker! I had never BEEN the new kid before. Granted, we were freshmen, so we were all the new kid, but that didn't register to me. All I knew was that everyone else seemed totally comfortable and I was scared to death. The details of the AWFUL homesickness and the craziness I put my parents through are another post--another BOOK--to themselves, but to sum it up, I remember telling my dad "I just wish ONE TIME someone would invite me to eat with them in the cafeteria." I didn't eat one single meal with another person that entire year. My dad kept telling me that there had to be 100 other girls sitting in their rooms wishing the same thing, and I should just go invite THEM to eat. I didn't ever do it.
So, gradually I learned to be comfortable there, and I once in a while would reach out to someone else. Not very often, and my biggest regret about college is that I didn't try harder to make a network of friends. I spent way more time alone than I had to.
Anyway--fast forward. I marry a guy in the Army. We move all the time. Apparently, he and the army are not aware of this aversion I have to being the "New Kid." They decide it is a good idea to do that every few years! FUN FUN! But, as they say, "God has a plan." Perhaps the loneliness of college was meant to prepare me for this life. When I moved to our first duty station--I was completely ready to crawl right back into that hole of "no one to eat with in the cafeteria." I had S, but he was deploying right away--so now what?
Fortunately for me, another new wife, Janet, had already learned, or perhaps was born with, the ability to reach out--even if she was new too. The first time I met her, she invited me to go work out with her at the gym. Instantly, I remembered my dad telling me to go invite someone else to go eat. So--with my dad's words in my ears and the reminder and encouragement of Janet's invitation, I set my mind to reaching out.
I still HATE to be the new kid. Every time we move I am truly truly miserable for several weeks. I think this move may have been the worst so far, but when you keep your eyes open, you find the opportunity to reach out and meet someone. Three weeks after we got here, I met L. when I overheard the kindergarten teacher telling her what to put in the kids' lunches. I immediately marched over and (after apologizing for eavesdropping) basically accosted her, found out she had just moved here (from Dallas, no less) and that she had 4 kids--two of whom are the ages of N. and R! So, we are great friends now. What if I had just kept on feeling sorry for myself and not eavesdropping--I mean looking for opportunities to invite someone to the cafeteria?!
So, now I have been here a few months. I don't feel so new. We know our way around the school, recognize a few faces, and have a few acquaintenances that could potentially be friends someday (maybe.) The other day, L. told me about someone that had just moved into my neighborhood. She said "They live across the street from one of C's (her daughter) friends. They are a navy family, they moved in a couple of weeks ago, and the dad deployed about a week after they got here." I said I wanted to go meet them. She said she would find out their name and my answer was typical military wife--"I don't need to know her name. Just tell me where she lives. I'll ask her name when I get there."
So, today I went over there with brownies. She wasn't home, but her 14 year old daughter was, and when the mom got home from soccer with the younger one, they came down to meet us. I had given her my phone number on a card, and she brought hers to me. We talked for a few minutes about the "culture shock" of moving to southern california, and how awful it is to be the new kid. She said her kids, especially her youngest (who at this point was running around the house with N. like a couple of lunatics) hasn't had any kids to play with and she is so lonely. I knew exactly how she feels. It was dinner time, so they didn't stay long. Just enough time to invite them to come down anytime, and to tell them that the boys would be thrilled to have someone close by to play with, and I wouldn't mind a friend up the street either! (Plus, the older two girls are babysitting age!)
Who cares? Will it make any difference to her that I brought brownies from a box and an index card with my phone number to her front door? Maybe, maybe not. Either way--at least she knows someone's face, has a number she can call if she gets really desperate, and maybe she feels a little less new. I hope it doesn't sound like I am bragging on myself, because it is really quite the opposite. I am proud of the fact that I have FINALLY learned that lesson. I am still sad that I didn't learn it sooner and make better use of my years in school, but now I do look for opportunities to invite someone else to the cafeteria! Special thanks to my dad (who has given me more good advice over the years than I can possibly list) and to the world of the army wife that has reinforced that advice! Now I just have to work on being able to do it when I am still feeling like the "new kid!"
Then I went to college. Holy crap, what a shocker! I had never BEEN the new kid before. Granted, we were freshmen, so we were all the new kid, but that didn't register to me. All I knew was that everyone else seemed totally comfortable and I was scared to death. The details of the AWFUL homesickness and the craziness I put my parents through are another post--another BOOK--to themselves, but to sum it up, I remember telling my dad "I just wish ONE TIME someone would invite me to eat with them in the cafeteria." I didn't eat one single meal with another person that entire year. My dad kept telling me that there had to be 100 other girls sitting in their rooms wishing the same thing, and I should just go invite THEM to eat. I didn't ever do it.
So, gradually I learned to be comfortable there, and I once in a while would reach out to someone else. Not very often, and my biggest regret about college is that I didn't try harder to make a network of friends. I spent way more time alone than I had to.
Anyway--fast forward. I marry a guy in the Army. We move all the time. Apparently, he and the army are not aware of this aversion I have to being the "New Kid." They decide it is a good idea to do that every few years! FUN FUN! But, as they say, "God has a plan." Perhaps the loneliness of college was meant to prepare me for this life. When I moved to our first duty station--I was completely ready to crawl right back into that hole of "no one to eat with in the cafeteria." I had S, but he was deploying right away--so now what?
Fortunately for me, another new wife, Janet, had already learned, or perhaps was born with, the ability to reach out--even if she was new too. The first time I met her, she invited me to go work out with her at the gym. Instantly, I remembered my dad telling me to go invite someone else to go eat. So--with my dad's words in my ears and the reminder and encouragement of Janet's invitation, I set my mind to reaching out.
I still HATE to be the new kid. Every time we move I am truly truly miserable for several weeks. I think this move may have been the worst so far, but when you keep your eyes open, you find the opportunity to reach out and meet someone. Three weeks after we got here, I met L. when I overheard the kindergarten teacher telling her what to put in the kids' lunches. I immediately marched over and (after apologizing for eavesdropping) basically accosted her, found out she had just moved here (from Dallas, no less) and that she had 4 kids--two of whom are the ages of N. and R! So, we are great friends now. What if I had just kept on feeling sorry for myself and not eavesdropping--I mean looking for opportunities to invite someone to the cafeteria?!
So, now I have been here a few months. I don't feel so new. We know our way around the school, recognize a few faces, and have a few acquaintenances that could potentially be friends someday (maybe.) The other day, L. told me about someone that had just moved into my neighborhood. She said "They live across the street from one of C's (her daughter) friends. They are a navy family, they moved in a couple of weeks ago, and the dad deployed about a week after they got here." I said I wanted to go meet them. She said she would find out their name and my answer was typical military wife--"I don't need to know her name. Just tell me where she lives. I'll ask her name when I get there."
So, today I went over there with brownies. She wasn't home, but her 14 year old daughter was, and when the mom got home from soccer with the younger one, they came down to meet us. I had given her my phone number on a card, and she brought hers to me. We talked for a few minutes about the "culture shock" of moving to southern california, and how awful it is to be the new kid. She said her kids, especially her youngest (who at this point was running around the house with N. like a couple of lunatics) hasn't had any kids to play with and she is so lonely. I knew exactly how she feels. It was dinner time, so they didn't stay long. Just enough time to invite them to come down anytime, and to tell them that the boys would be thrilled to have someone close by to play with, and I wouldn't mind a friend up the street either! (Plus, the older two girls are babysitting age!)
Who cares? Will it make any difference to her that I brought brownies from a box and an index card with my phone number to her front door? Maybe, maybe not. Either way--at least she knows someone's face, has a number she can call if she gets really desperate, and maybe she feels a little less new. I hope it doesn't sound like I am bragging on myself, because it is really quite the opposite. I am proud of the fact that I have FINALLY learned that lesson. I am still sad that I didn't learn it sooner and make better use of my years in school, but now I do look for opportunities to invite someone else to the cafeteria! Special thanks to my dad (who has given me more good advice over the years than I can possibly list) and to the world of the army wife that has reinforced that advice! Now I just have to work on being able to do it when I am still feeling like the "new kid!"
Legoland
My Theta little sister and her family were in town on vacation for the Labor Day Holiday weekend. (Are her kids my Theta niece and nephew??) On Sunday, we went with them to Legoland. It is an amusement park that is about 30 minutes from our house. We all had a fun, very full day. We got there when the park opened at 10--and we didn't leave until 5:45!! J. made it until 5 without falling asleep--amazing! He slept all the way home, and still went to bed ok!
The only problem was that J. and R. were too small to ride most of the rides, and they were MAD about it. Neither of them has any fear, and they would have ridden anything we'd have put them on. It was hot, but not miserably hot, so everyone had a good time.
At the pirate show
N. at the "driving school." It is so cool! It has stop lights, street signs, etc. He was so funny sitting at the red lights. He yelled at a kid that almost went past him--"Hey--stop on red!"
R. on the "joust" ride--it seems that kid can find horses anywhere! Maybe if his plans to be a cowboy when he grows up don't work out, he could be a knight!
N. and his shadow for the day! (My Theta niece!)
The younger boys (R. and my Theta Nephew) in the Junior Driving School! It is a "racetrack" that R. managed to make it around about 1 1/2 times--driving is not quite as easy as he thought it would be!
Afterwards, we had dinner at our house from NY Giant Pizza. It is the craziest thing! the pizza is 48 inches across!! You have to turn the box sideways to get it through the door of the house. I wish I would have thought to take a picture of it. With 4 adults and 5 hungry kids, we still didn't eat half of it!
It was really nice to see our friends. One of the things that is hard about the army is that you don't ever have "old" friends nearby. New friends are great, but sometimes it is nice to be able to sit and talk with people you've known for a long time. I was fortunate to have that in the last place we lived, both because we were there for so long (long in Army terms!) and because we went through so much together, it felt like we had known each other a long time.
Anyway--since we don't have the ability to go over to grandparents house just for dinner, or whatever, it is always SO nice to have people come visit us. It kind of gives us the feeling of "home," even if the visitors aren't actually blood relatives! So--come one, come all! We love company--give me 24 hours notice to change the sheets and you're welcome here anytime!
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
True Wife Confessions
On the last post I talked about True Wife Confessions. It is a blog that a woman named Dawn has set up. Women email her all kinds of stuff and she puts it on the blog annonymously. Crazy stuff. Good and bad. Everything from "I was going to leave you next month, but then you took a week off work to take care of me after my surgery and I realized you actually do care about me. Don't let me forget again." To "I'm sleeping with your best friend and his wife and have been since before we got married."
Truly--it is the craziest things! S. and I have both gotten sort of addicted to reading it--it makes me grateful for the blessing of my marriage, sad for some things people are going through, angry that some men are such assholes, shocked that people would do some of the things that are written there!
I think we keep reading it to pat ourselves on the back for the "good place" our relationship is in right now, to warn ourselves about what CAN happen if you let it, and just for the flat out entertainment value of waiting to see what will happen next!
Dawn seems to be a pretty interesting person, if you read her personal blog, that is linked to TWC. Most of the time, she doesn't comment much on TWC, but the last post she was REALLY upset about a comment someone had made. She wrote a very eloquent, disturbing story in response to the comment. (The anonymous comment said "Truth hurts people" and that freaked Dawn out. Turns out, the person meant it as though she was talking to an audience of people. As in "The truth hurts, people!" You can read the whole story in the comments section of that post.) Anyway--it is interesting and seems to be a very useful tool for some people to get some things out there that they need to say, without putting themselves at risk of being heard by the wrong person. One of the posts says "I know you read True Wife Confessions. I know you are looking for mine." I think that is hilarious! It is kind of like reading Enquirer magazine or slowing down to look at a car wreck--you aren't sure why you are fascinated--you just are! www.truewifeconfessions.blogspot.com
Truly--it is the craziest things! S. and I have both gotten sort of addicted to reading it--it makes me grateful for the blessing of my marriage, sad for some things people are going through, angry that some men are such assholes, shocked that people would do some of the things that are written there!
I think we keep reading it to pat ourselves on the back for the "good place" our relationship is in right now, to warn ourselves about what CAN happen if you let it, and just for the flat out entertainment value of waiting to see what will happen next!
Dawn seems to be a pretty interesting person, if you read her personal blog, that is linked to TWC. Most of the time, she doesn't comment much on TWC, but the last post she was REALLY upset about a comment someone had made. She wrote a very eloquent, disturbing story in response to the comment. (The anonymous comment said "Truth hurts people" and that freaked Dawn out. Turns out, the person meant it as though she was talking to an audience of people. As in "The truth hurts, people!" You can read the whole story in the comments section of that post.) Anyway--it is interesting and seems to be a very useful tool for some people to get some things out there that they need to say, without putting themselves at risk of being heard by the wrong person. One of the posts says "I know you read True Wife Confessions. I know you are looking for mine." I think that is hilarious! It is kind of like reading Enquirer magazine or slowing down to look at a car wreck--you aren't sure why you are fascinated--you just are! www.truewifeconfessions.blogspot.com
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Tagged--finally!
Yay!! I got tagged! I always want to get tagged in these games. I know most people consider it to be like chain letters, or whatever, but no one ever tags me, so I am excited! (I also like those "get to know your friends" emails.) So, I got tagged by Angie D. I also copied another game off of E's blog, because I wanted to play that one too (even though I can't really come up with answers to all of them yet). I am just going to type and hope an answer comes to me!
So--here's the first one:
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your Blog (Please include the book and author) along with these instructions.
5. Don’t you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.
6. Tag five people.
Ok--the closest books are 1) Baby Sign--each page has 1 word on it. No sentences. 2) Daily Wisdom to Satisfy the Soul--only has about 3 sentences per page (I read 1 page each night before bed--any more sentences than that wouldn't get read because I would fall asleep) There are no other books within arm's reach. I am going to the guest room (where the bookshelf is) and leaving the light off and choosing a book at random. Be right back. . . . .
Lovely. . .such the army family we are! The book I picked was "On Killing--The psychological cost of learning to kill in war and society." I am taking a moment to absorb the fact that a book with this title is actually in my house. Another point--the book was a gift to S. on our wedding day from a girl in TCU ROTC that I DO NOT consider my friend. I considered for a moment tearing out the page where she wrote her note. . .but decided that is too heavy a sentiment for the lighthearted intent of this game. So, back to the game. . .
Here goes. . .page 123 Sentences 5-8. "He goes on to give a superb example of the subtle and unconscious nature of this resistance to bayoneting: 'Prince Frederick Charles asked a [World War I] German infantryman why he did this. {refers to earlier sentence about turning bayonets around and using the handle as a club} 'I don't know,' replied the soldier. 'When you get your dander up, the thing turns round in your hand itself.' "
Well, that' s a lovely notion. Soldiers prefer not to use bayonets. Great. I should have just used the Baby Sign book! I will NOT be reading anymore of "On Killing." Except what-her-name's note page--I may read that again--right before I tear it out!
OK--the other game on E's blog:
I AM: living in a boys' locker room
I WANT: to lose 27 pounds
I WISH: plastic surgery was free
I HATE: that I have wasted so much time
I MISS: the "girls on the hill"
I FEAR: abandonment
I HEAR: everything
I WONDER: if God thinks I'm not good enough at being a girl to be a mother to one
I REGRET: how much money I have spent just on pizza
I AM NOT: sure about much
I DANCE: to country music, with my boys standing on my toes to teach them to 2step
I SING: terribly, but with enthusiasm
I CRY: about everything--even mayonaise commercials
I AM NOT ALWAYS: mean (surprise!)
I MAKE: hooded towels and brownies
I CONFUSE: m's and n's ("aminal" & "cimannon")
I NEED: to get a job
I SHOULD: go to bed
I START: with good intentions
I FINISH: slowly, usually
I BORROWED: all my kids names
One more thing. . .have you guys seen true wife confessions (on blogspot)? HOLY CRAP!!! S. and I were reading it the other night and decided we should read it once in a while to make us remember how lucky we are!!!
So--here's the first one:
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your Blog (Please include the book and author) along with these instructions.
5. Don’t you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.
6. Tag five people.
Ok--the closest books are 1) Baby Sign--each page has 1 word on it. No sentences. 2) Daily Wisdom to Satisfy the Soul--only has about 3 sentences per page (I read 1 page each night before bed--any more sentences than that wouldn't get read because I would fall asleep) There are no other books within arm's reach. I am going to the guest room (where the bookshelf is) and leaving the light off and choosing a book at random. Be right back. . . . .
Lovely. . .such the army family we are! The book I picked was "On Killing--The psychological cost of learning to kill in war and society." I am taking a moment to absorb the fact that a book with this title is actually in my house. Another point--the book was a gift to S. on our wedding day from a girl in TCU ROTC that I DO NOT consider my friend. I considered for a moment tearing out the page where she wrote her note. . .but decided that is too heavy a sentiment for the lighthearted intent of this game. So, back to the game. . .
Here goes. . .page 123 Sentences 5-8. "He goes on to give a superb example of the subtle and unconscious nature of this resistance to bayoneting: 'Prince Frederick Charles asked a [World War I] German infantryman why he did this. {refers to earlier sentence about turning bayonets around and using the handle as a club} 'I don't know,' replied the soldier. 'When you get your dander up, the thing turns round in your hand itself.' "
Well, that' s a lovely notion. Soldiers prefer not to use bayonets. Great. I should have just used the Baby Sign book! I will NOT be reading anymore of "On Killing." Except what-her-name's note page--I may read that again--right before I tear it out!
OK--the other game on E's blog:
I AM: living in a boys' locker room
I WANT: to lose 27 pounds
I WISH: plastic surgery was free
I HATE: that I have wasted so much time
I MISS: the "girls on the hill"
I FEAR: abandonment
I HEAR: everything
I WONDER: if God thinks I'm not good enough at being a girl to be a mother to one
I REGRET: how much money I have spent just on pizza
I AM NOT: sure about much
I DANCE: to country music, with my boys standing on my toes to teach them to 2step
I SING: terribly, but with enthusiasm
I CRY: about everything--even mayonaise commercials
I AM NOT ALWAYS: mean (surprise!)
I MAKE: hooded towels and brownies
I CONFUSE: m's and n's ("aminal" & "cimannon")
I NEED: to get a job
I SHOULD: go to bed
I START: with good intentions
I FINISH: slowly, usually
I BORROWED: all my kids names
One more thing. . .have you guys seen true wife confessions (on blogspot)? HOLY CRAP!!! S. and I were reading it the other night and decided we should read it once in a while to make us remember how lucky we are!!!
Thursday, August 24, 2006
The last week
Well, we certainly didn't waste the last week before school started. Everyday this week, the kids and I left the house before 8am and didn't come home until after dark most nights! In addition to getting haircuts, organizing school supplies, buying new tennis shoes, and other last minute housekeeping tasks, we also had some fun.
We went to the babysitting co-op's "Day at the Bay" on Tuesday night, which was really fun. I hadn't been to the bay before. It is nice--beach, saltwater, and bonfires without the waves. The little 2 really preferred that!
We went to the babysitting co-op's "Day at the Bay" on Tuesday night, which was really fun. I hadn't been to the bay before. It is nice--beach, saltwater, and bonfires without the waves. The little 2 really preferred that!
We had a potluck 
and after the sun went down we roasted marshmallows and made smores. 
The kids did several cute skits. 
It was nice to get to know some of the ladies better, and for the boys to have a chance to make friends. I am excited about the idea of the co-op, but I have been afraid to use it, feeling like the kids would not do well staying with strangers. I am hoping that having hung out with them all for a few hours will make them feel more like they are going to a playdate instead of to the babysitters!
We spent yesterday at the Wild Animal Park. It was way too hot there (it is usually about 15 degrees hotter inland than it is at our house) so it was above 100. The kids were SO good, but they got really hot. 
We went to Lorikeet Landing, which is a little bird area where you pay 
$2.00 to get a tiny cup of nectar. Then, the birds land on your arm and drink it. Sometimes they bite, but fortunately that didn't happen to us!
We cooled off when we sat down for the "Frequent Flyers" bird show, but the walk back to the car almost did everyone in. They were all about to panic, but fortunately, we had a cooler with ice and drinks in the car. They each had something to cool down and promptly fell asleep. The one bad part of the day was that I went to the gym before we went to the park, so walking the very steep hills wasn't easy on my legs!
First Day of School!!
It's here! Both boys started school today. We all took N. to class, and then we went back later for R.'s "orientation day." J. and I got to stay with him, as class was only 1 hour today. It was fun and his teacher, Ms. V, is just wonderful. I have only been around her a couple of times, but so far she seems to be the kind of person that was put on earth to teach preschool!
When we dropped N. off, we were walking to the playground where they all line up. I think he must have remembered me telling him that I cried after I dropped him off on the first day last year. He was walking right next to me and as we went through the gate, he said "Mom, are you sad?" I said "Nope. Not this year--this year I'm just excited for you!" He got a huge smile on his face and said "Me too!" and ran off to find his friends. Isn't that sweet??
His teacher, Ms. S, seems very nice. We only got a couple of seconds to talk to her and take her picture. I have heard from several moms that she has been here for a long time and she is wonderful to the kids. She seems very nurturing and encouraging. Exactly the kind of environment that N. excels in!
All in all, I think we are off to a good year. I am looking forward to helping in their classes when I can, and to spending some "only child" time with J. I am also hoping the kids will meet some friends who live close and that we can get to know some new families through the kids.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Life Motto
Once, a couple of years ago, VN emailed out a forward from the division commander's wife. (For those non-Army folks, the division commander was a 2 star general.) V put at the top something to the effect of "We should always listen closely to the advice of senior army wives." Since this was during a deployment, I was expecting some "pep talk" about keeping your resolve, support your husband, we can do it, we're stronger than most people. . .blah blah blah. I almost deleted it without reading the rest. Turns out, it was this hilarious thing with all kinds of little quotes about friendship and army life. I wish I could find the whole thing, but I only have the last line, because I decided to make it my life motto.
Now, understand that this does NOT mean I am falling off of the Weight Watchers Wagon, and most of the time I am the designated driver, but the spirit of the statement just makes me smile.
I tend to overthink, overanalyze, overplan, and overorganize. I seem to spend most of my life thinking about two things: 1) How I screwed up events or relationships in my past; and 2) What I need to be doing to make the future right. Once in a while I realize that I haven't thought about the actual present day in months. I guess this is more of a goal than a motto. Someday, I am going to learn to enjoy my own company, and to believe that there are at least a couple of people out there who enjoy my company too. (Maybe)
Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!”
Now, understand that this does NOT mean I am falling off of the Weight Watchers Wagon, and most of the time I am the designated driver, but the spirit of the statement just makes me smile.
I tend to overthink, overanalyze, overplan, and overorganize. I seem to spend most of my life thinking about two things: 1) How I screwed up events or relationships in my past; and 2) What I need to be doing to make the future right. Once in a while I realize that I haven't thought about the actual present day in months. I guess this is more of a goal than a motto. Someday, I am going to learn to enjoy my own company, and to believe that there are at least a couple of people out there who enjoy my company too. (Maybe)
My Darling Husband
S. and I met in college. I was 19. We saw each other via a mutual friend once in a while. Then we hung out as friends for a while. Then we started dating. At some point, I fell in love with him. It might have been the first day I saw him, or it might have been 2 years later. I'm not sure. But, there is one day that I remember KNOWING that I loved him.
I had told S. relatively early in our relationship how much I love to read. Magazines, books, essays, poetry, whatever. I don't really even care what the subject is, I just like to read. The power of words amazes me. Millions of people speak English, but some have the talent to arrange them into art. Or into weapons. Or into entertainment. Whatever. . .I am just struck by the emotions, questions, reflections, or fears that a single sentence can evoke.
What I didn't mention to S. for a while was that I desperately wanted to BE one of those talented people. I have always wanted to write something that other people would take the time to read (even if they thought it was boring--if they took the time to read to the end, I would feel accomplished.) When I was little, I was always writing stories that I turned into books. I would take typing paper and cut it in half, fold it, and staple it and then write my story on the pages. I wrote a lot of poems too. I gave them as gifts sometimes. I've read back over some of them, and they were really cheesy, but I was 10. . .so I guess I should give myself a break.
Anyway--at some point I shared that secret dream with S. Some time later (probably several months) I was looking in his wallet to get a dollar for a coke (with his permission!!). I found my picture, and the "fortune" that I had gotten in my fortune cookie when we had chinese food a few weeks later. He had kept that fortune and put it as a "caption" on the picture of me in his wallet!! The fact that he would do something like that at all was enough to make me smile, but I knew I loved him when I saw how much he cared about what was important to me. The fortune said "You are a lover of words, and someday you will write a book."
Somehow, him keeping that fortune close to the picture of me felt like him believing in me and supporting my dream. I don't know if I will ever do it. I have a million excuses (no time, no subject, blah blah) but really I'm just plain scared. Of not being good enough, of rejection, of not even being able to finish. I don't know if I still believe in that dream.
But, S. still has the fortune in his wallet with my picture.
I had told S. relatively early in our relationship how much I love to read. Magazines, books, essays, poetry, whatever. I don't really even care what the subject is, I just like to read. The power of words amazes me. Millions of people speak English, but some have the talent to arrange them into art. Or into weapons. Or into entertainment. Whatever. . .I am just struck by the emotions, questions, reflections, or fears that a single sentence can evoke.
What I didn't mention to S. for a while was that I desperately wanted to BE one of those talented people. I have always wanted to write something that other people would take the time to read (even if they thought it was boring--if they took the time to read to the end, I would feel accomplished.) When I was little, I was always writing stories that I turned into books. I would take typing paper and cut it in half, fold it, and staple it and then write my story on the pages. I wrote a lot of poems too. I gave them as gifts sometimes. I've read back over some of them, and they were really cheesy, but I was 10. . .so I guess I should give myself a break.
Anyway--at some point I shared that secret dream with S. Some time later (probably several months) I was looking in his wallet to get a dollar for a coke (with his permission!!). I found my picture, and the "fortune" that I had gotten in my fortune cookie when we had chinese food a few weeks later. He had kept that fortune and put it as a "caption" on the picture of me in his wallet!! The fact that he would do something like that at all was enough to make me smile, but I knew I loved him when I saw how much he cared about what was important to me. The fortune said "You are a lover of words, and someday you will write a book."
Somehow, him keeping that fortune close to the picture of me felt like him believing in me and supporting my dream. I don't know if I will ever do it. I have a million excuses (no time, no subject, blah blah) but really I'm just plain scared. Of not being good enough, of rejection, of not even being able to finish. I don't know if I still believe in that dream.
But, S. still has the fortune in his wallet with my picture.
Friday, August 18, 2006
Gross stuff about being a mom
When I was a kid, I had a really weak stomach. Everything made me gag. I was always saying something smelled bad, or whatever. If anyone threw up and I could even HEAR it, I would throw up. Then I became a mom. . .
For starters, my first child has reflux. It eased up after about 4 years, but is defintely still around. The first year of his life, I pretty much wore 2 shirts. They both got puked on so much, I started to not even notice if it was clean or dirty when I put it on. At that point, it was just breast milk, so it didn't smell that bad. Then, food entered the picture. Yuk. So, he still does it from time to time. Often initiated by smells.
During his second week of the new school here, I got a call to come pick him up because he had thrown up. When I got there, it was obvious that he wasn't sick. He REALLY didn't want to go home, because it was the one day of the month that they had "sports special" after school. I explained to the nurse that he had reflux and it was often triggered by eating too fast, smelling something bad, etc. In this particular instance, it was a smell. His friend brought broccoli in his lunch. N. loves broccoli, so I didn't know what the problem was. But, he didn't want to say. He would rather go home than explain. When I asked why, he said he didn't want to embarrass his friend. We (the nurse and I) assured him we wouldn't tell. Apparently, the broccoli made the other kid's breath smell bad, and they were sitting close to each other, so when he breathed, N. could smell it. (I am getting off subject--but just wanted to point out again what a tenderhearted kid he is--he would rather miss sports day than embarrass his buddy!)
So--anyway--I'm pretty used to getting puked on. But, I just want to give you a little synopsis of my week.
1) N. pukes in the top of the McDonalds playland.
2) R. poops, but doesn't wait to get wiped--comes out of the bathroom with no clothes on, and gets on his bed. Then slides off. Poop all over comforter.
3) J. takes off his own diaper and poops in the floor of my room.
4) J. steps in poop and smears it around the floor of my room.
5) Because he is allergic to dairy, J. drinks soy milk. This week, several diapers smell so bad that I puke!
6) R. is too short to reach the toilet in the bathroom at the movies, but refuses to believe me when I tell him this. He stands on his toes and manages to pee on my sandals. I am standing behind him.
7) J. takes chewed up cheddar cheese out of his mouth while I am holding him. When I start to talk, he puts it in my mouth.
8) Because he is allergic to dairy, the chewed up cheese makes J. totally congested the next day. Twice he sneezes the entire contents of his sinus cavities all over me. Once my mouth is open.
9) J. eats a worm that has dried up on the driveway (again, I want to puke!)
Now really--I realize that this is not something you really want to have a conversation about, but COME ON! All this in one week! Can you blame me for taking away the toys?????? I have had it! I am going to revolt tomorrow and refuse to go to soccer practice. They can have a boys day, and I am taking my gift certificate and getting a freakin' pedicure (and if anyone pukes on my toes you can find me either the nearest psychiatric hospital or jail!!)
For starters, my first child has reflux. It eased up after about 4 years, but is defintely still around. The first year of his life, I pretty much wore 2 shirts. They both got puked on so much, I started to not even notice if it was clean or dirty when I put it on. At that point, it was just breast milk, so it didn't smell that bad. Then, food entered the picture. Yuk. So, he still does it from time to time. Often initiated by smells.
During his second week of the new school here, I got a call to come pick him up because he had thrown up. When I got there, it was obvious that he wasn't sick. He REALLY didn't want to go home, because it was the one day of the month that they had "sports special" after school. I explained to the nurse that he had reflux and it was often triggered by eating too fast, smelling something bad, etc. In this particular instance, it was a smell. His friend brought broccoli in his lunch. N. loves broccoli, so I didn't know what the problem was. But, he didn't want to say. He would rather go home than explain. When I asked why, he said he didn't want to embarrass his friend. We (the nurse and I) assured him we wouldn't tell. Apparently, the broccoli made the other kid's breath smell bad, and they were sitting close to each other, so when he breathed, N. could smell it. (I am getting off subject--but just wanted to point out again what a tenderhearted kid he is--he would rather miss sports day than embarrass his buddy!)
So--anyway--I'm pretty used to getting puked on. But, I just want to give you a little synopsis of my week.
1) N. pukes in the top of the McDonalds playland.
2) R. poops, but doesn't wait to get wiped--comes out of the bathroom with no clothes on, and gets on his bed. Then slides off. Poop all over comforter.
3) J. takes off his own diaper and poops in the floor of my room.
4) J. steps in poop and smears it around the floor of my room.
5) Because he is allergic to dairy, J. drinks soy milk. This week, several diapers smell so bad that I puke!
6) R. is too short to reach the toilet in the bathroom at the movies, but refuses to believe me when I tell him this. He stands on his toes and manages to pee on my sandals. I am standing behind him.
7) J. takes chewed up cheddar cheese out of his mouth while I am holding him. When I start to talk, he puts it in my mouth.
8) Because he is allergic to dairy, the chewed up cheese makes J. totally congested the next day. Twice he sneezes the entire contents of his sinus cavities all over me. Once my mouth is open.
9) J. eats a worm that has dried up on the driveway (again, I want to puke!)
Now really--I realize that this is not something you really want to have a conversation about, but COME ON! All this in one week! Can you blame me for taking away the toys?????? I have had it! I am going to revolt tomorrow and refuse to go to soccer practice. They can have a boys day, and I am taking my gift certificate and getting a freakin' pedicure (and if anyone pukes on my toes you can find me either the nearest psychiatric hospital or jail!!)
I'm Ready for School To Start!!!
I am so ready for the kids to go back to school. R. is starting preschool at N's school this year. He will only be able to go 2 mornings a week, but at least it is something. Maybe he will meet a couple of kids his own age that live close by. I hope so. He has been so lonely since we moved here.
N. is basically going nuts being home all day. They are at each other's throats all day long. I am so tired of hearing them fight. My sister, B., told me about this thing called "First time obedience" from the Growing Kids God's Way program. I used to think it was crazy, and that kids would never do things the first time you said it. But, when we went up to visit them in the spring, she was explaining it to me.
Basically, the concept is that if I am having to scream and yell and repeat myself over and over--then I am not doing my job as a parent. I have not adequately explained to them what is appropriate behavior (minding me) and what is not (continuing to disobey). So, here's how it works. You tell them something one time. Like "Stop arguing with each other." That is the warning. And, you tell them the consequences for disobeying. "If you continue to argue you will have to go take a nap."
The trick is that you have to make sure that the consequences are something that you are willing to follow through with. For example, yesterday on the way to the movies, I almost said to R. "If you don't stop yelling, you can't go to the movie." Well, there was no way to keep him from going without punishing everyone, so I said "If you yell again you can't have any candy or popcorn at the movie."
So, today I am so sick of all of the fighting and crying and yelling that here is what I did. I unplugged all of the TVs. I took away game boys, CD players, and all other electronic devices. No one is allowed upstairs (where there is another TV and a computer). They have the toys in the downstairs toy box and each other. I won't even play with them. They can't have friends over. They are going to learn to treat each other with kindness and respect or they are going to learn how long a day can be when you have to sit against a wall and stare at each other all day.
The consequence if they fight or argue today is that tomorrow they don't even get the toys. Just each other and the yard or the floor. That's it. We'll see what happens. Only 5 more days 'til school starts. . . .
N. is basically going nuts being home all day. They are at each other's throats all day long. I am so tired of hearing them fight. My sister, B., told me about this thing called "First time obedience" from the Growing Kids God's Way program. I used to think it was crazy, and that kids would never do things the first time you said it. But, when we went up to visit them in the spring, she was explaining it to me.
Basically, the concept is that if I am having to scream and yell and repeat myself over and over--then I am not doing my job as a parent. I have not adequately explained to them what is appropriate behavior (minding me) and what is not (continuing to disobey). So, here's how it works. You tell them something one time. Like "Stop arguing with each other." That is the warning. And, you tell them the consequences for disobeying. "If you continue to argue you will have to go take a nap."
The trick is that you have to make sure that the consequences are something that you are willing to follow through with. For example, yesterday on the way to the movies, I almost said to R. "If you don't stop yelling, you can't go to the movie." Well, there was no way to keep him from going without punishing everyone, so I said "If you yell again you can't have any candy or popcorn at the movie."
So, today I am so sick of all of the fighting and crying and yelling that here is what I did. I unplugged all of the TVs. I took away game boys, CD players, and all other electronic devices. No one is allowed upstairs (where there is another TV and a computer). They have the toys in the downstairs toy box and each other. I won't even play with them. They can't have friends over. They are going to learn to treat each other with kindness and respect or they are going to learn how long a day can be when you have to sit against a wall and stare at each other all day.
The consequence if they fight or argue today is that tomorrow they don't even get the toys. Just each other and the yard or the floor. That's it. We'll see what happens. Only 5 more days 'til school starts. . . .
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
What's wrong?
Something is wrong with my blog. . .it won't come up. This is just a test post to see if something will happen.
Waylon's Song
If you can't tell from today's new theme song--I'm homesick!! (I don't know why--it's hotter than the face of the sun there right now!)
By the way--if you don't know who I'm talking about in the title of this post--WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU???? Waylon Jennings for heaven's sake!
By the way--if you don't know who I'm talking about in the title of this post--WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU???? Waylon Jennings for heaven's sake!
Little Ones Room
Today I did some updating on the little boys' bedroom. I had hung stuff on the wall when the crib was in there, but since the new "big boy furniture got delivered, I haven't changed things. The "theme" is cowboys, since R. is going to be a cowboy when he grows up. The windows are a little weird to deal with, since they have venetian blinds, so this is the window treatment that I came up with. The fact is that I am weird enough that this put me in a good mood for the rest of the day! I also wrote their names above their beds in the same "lasso" rope. The picture looks a little weird because I cropped 3 photos together to show the whole thing.
Monday, August 14, 2006
LVAD
Do you know what an LVAD is? I don't even know if that is the right acronym. I also don't know exactly what it stands for. What it is is this. . .a machine that replaces the left side of your heart. Not helps your heart like a pacemaker--it replaces it. I mean, they cut a hole in your heart and connect it to this machine that is on the outside of your body. You can hear it pumping all the time. It runs on batteries and you have to change them. At night, you plug directly into the machine that charges the batteries and you run on electricity. Guess what happens if the power goes out? If you don't have a battery available, you use a hand pump. . .yep--you pump your own heart with a hand pump.
So, why do I know this (other than the fact that it was a subject on Grey's Anatomy) and why am I writing about it? Because my stepfather has one. He has been a heart patient for almost 15 years--maybe more than that. He had heart attacks, CHF, a defibrillator put IN his heart (yes--the thing that shocks you--inside his body) and now, the LVAD. It basically keeps you alive until you get a heart transplant. Some people have lived on the LVAD for 18 months waiting for their new heart.
Here are some of the things that go along with the LVAD.
1) The surgery itself is just horrendous. The transplant itself will be nothing compared to this. The recovery took about 3 months (longer?) and my mother thought she would completely lose her mind. I won't even go into the details of that, because I wasn't there and I couldn't possibly do justice to the awful things they both endured.
2) Right before he got the LVAD, G. was so sick he could barely walk from the living room to the bathroom. He had congestive heart failure and he was just shutting down. Now, on the LVAD he is doing SO much better. He's lost weight, he's working out, etc. So. . .life is better. What to wish for? Get a heart, well of course, but that is scary too. What if he is doing so well on the LVAD, and then rejects the heart? Would it be better to have stayed on the LVAD?
3) Life is in suspended animation right now. They can't go ANYWHERE because you don't know when the heart will come available. You have to be able to get to the hospital QUICK. So, it is like being on house arrest.
4) That #3 causes them (meaning my mom and G.) to feel isolated and left out. They want to come visit us, but they can't. They wanted to go to a family reunion, but can't. They want to make plans, but they can't. . . So they feel like everyone else's life is moving and theirs isn't.
5) The VERY VERY VERY worst thing. For him to get a heart, someone has to die. And--it likely will be someone who wasn't expecting it. If you are sick or whatever, you have been on medications and stuff like that so your heart isn't eligible to be transplanted. So, the hearts come from healthy, usually young people who die tragically. A horrible thing. So, it isn't like you can sit around and WISH for someone to die. Of course, we all wish for a heart, but it would sure be nice if they could grow one in a petri dish. You can rationalize that the person was going to die anyway, they volunteered to be a donor, so they WANT someone to have their organs etc. but still. . .someone has to die. Some family has to suffer. G. hasn't even gotten his heart yet, and already I am praying for the family of the donor. For peace, for comfort, for a sense that they did something to help someone else.
I know a lot of people don't want to be organ donors for a myriad of reasons. But, just to let you know, there is no truth to the rumor that "they will let you die if you are a donor so they can have your organs." If you physically die--meaning your heart stops beating--your organs are no good. They keep people on the life machines and they do lots and lots and lots of brain scans to be sure that their is NO brain function. So, if you can find it in your heart to do so--please choose to be an organ donor. Some states mark it on your drivers' license. There is a spot for it on our military IDs--most importantly, let your friends and family know. When you are brain dead, your body basically becomes the property of your next of kin, so they get to decide whether or not to donate your organs. My next door neighbor has a bumper sticker that I SO agree with "Don't take your organs to heaven. Heaven knows we need them here!"
OK--here's a weird thing. . .this morning I decided to write about this, but I didn't finish because I had to leave so I saved it as a draft to finish when I got home. On my way home, I got a message on my voicemail from my mom that said that G. went to transplant clinic today and they told him "You need to be sure you are ready." Whoa. . .
So, why do I know this (other than the fact that it was a subject on Grey's Anatomy) and why am I writing about it? Because my stepfather has one. He has been a heart patient for almost 15 years--maybe more than that. He had heart attacks, CHF, a defibrillator put IN his heart (yes--the thing that shocks you--inside his body) and now, the LVAD. It basically keeps you alive until you get a heart transplant. Some people have lived on the LVAD for 18 months waiting for their new heart.
Here are some of the things that go along with the LVAD.
1) The surgery itself is just horrendous. The transplant itself will be nothing compared to this. The recovery took about 3 months (longer?) and my mother thought she would completely lose her mind. I won't even go into the details of that, because I wasn't there and I couldn't possibly do justice to the awful things they both endured.
2) Right before he got the LVAD, G. was so sick he could barely walk from the living room to the bathroom. He had congestive heart failure and he was just shutting down. Now, on the LVAD he is doing SO much better. He's lost weight, he's working out, etc. So. . .life is better. What to wish for? Get a heart, well of course, but that is scary too. What if he is doing so well on the LVAD, and then rejects the heart? Would it be better to have stayed on the LVAD?
3) Life is in suspended animation right now. They can't go ANYWHERE because you don't know when the heart will come available. You have to be able to get to the hospital QUICK. So, it is like being on house arrest.
4) That #3 causes them (meaning my mom and G.) to feel isolated and left out. They want to come visit us, but they can't. They wanted to go to a family reunion, but can't. They want to make plans, but they can't. . . So they feel like everyone else's life is moving and theirs isn't.
5) The VERY VERY VERY worst thing. For him to get a heart, someone has to die. And--it likely will be someone who wasn't expecting it. If you are sick or whatever, you have been on medications and stuff like that so your heart isn't eligible to be transplanted. So, the hearts come from healthy, usually young people who die tragically. A horrible thing. So, it isn't like you can sit around and WISH for someone to die. Of course, we all wish for a heart, but it would sure be nice if they could grow one in a petri dish. You can rationalize that the person was going to die anyway, they volunteered to be a donor, so they WANT someone to have their organs etc. but still. . .someone has to die. Some family has to suffer. G. hasn't even gotten his heart yet, and already I am praying for the family of the donor. For peace, for comfort, for a sense that they did something to help someone else.
I know a lot of people don't want to be organ donors for a myriad of reasons. But, just to let you know, there is no truth to the rumor that "they will let you die if you are a donor so they can have your organs." If you physically die--meaning your heart stops beating--your organs are no good. They keep people on the life machines and they do lots and lots and lots of brain scans to be sure that their is NO brain function. So, if you can find it in your heart to do so--please choose to be an organ donor. Some states mark it on your drivers' license. There is a spot for it on our military IDs--most importantly, let your friends and family know. When you are brain dead, your body basically becomes the property of your next of kin, so they get to decide whether or not to donate your organs. My next door neighbor has a bumper sticker that I SO agree with "Don't take your organs to heaven. Heaven knows we need them here!"
OK--here's a weird thing. . .this morning I decided to write about this, but I didn't finish because I had to leave so I saved it as a draft to finish when I got home. On my way home, I got a message on my voicemail from my mom that said that G. went to transplant clinic today and they told him "You need to be sure you are ready." Whoa. . .
Back to the Gym. . .
Well, I didn't do a great job of maintaining my workout schedule while I was away, but I still managed to lose some weight. I am now more than 1/2 way to my goal! Yeahaw!! I will post a before and after picture when I am totally finished. Although, that will be quite frightening for all of us, and you must keep your children away from the computer screen so they won't be scarred for life.
I have been taking a front, side, and back view picture of myself at the beginning of each month. It is totally disgusting, but it is motivating too. The only problem I am having is that I feel so much better than I did when I started--I am losing my motivation a little! So, today I put the determination back into myself. I am rededicating my willpower--and I am going to do it!! My goal is to be able to get a job with Weight Watchers by next January. They only hire from within their own membership and you have to be at your goal weight and stay there!
So, today we went back to the gym. I was afraid that J. might freak out, but he did well. I worked harder than I thought I would be able to--but I am sure that I will suffer tomorrow! Oh well--that just confirms that I was working! I am going to try to make it to my trainer's pilates class tomorrow morning. Unfortunately, it is at 8:15, so if the children are still sleeping--I am not going to make them get up. We are getting back on the school schedule, but that is early even for that! (School starts at 8:25--in exactly 9 days!!)
Here are some good things that have happened to me from losing 46 pounds (so far). 1) The most obvious--I can shop in the regular department. Even though I don't shop much, when I do, it is nice to not have to go to the plus size area 2) I can take a regular bath towel to the gym. (I want to be TOTALLY covered in the shower area, so I was taking a beach towel, but now I regular bath towel wraps all the way around me with some extra so I feel "safe".) 3) When I stretch my quad muscles, I can grab my right ankle with my right hand and my left with my left (instead of having to do opposites because my leg won't bend far enough!) 4) I can get down on the floor to play with the kids and get bakc up again, without looking like a sea lion getting up on a rock 5) I bought a swimsuit yesterday and I didn't start crying in the dressing room--it doesn't look nearly as good as I want it to--but it is WAY better than it was (and the swimsuit was 75% off--which makes me even happier!)
The other great thing is that being back at the gym means I have child care for 1 1/2 hours. It makes me feel good, I get a shower, and I am ready to be around the kids again (I love them, but it sure doesn't hurt any of us to get a break once in a while!)
I have been taking a front, side, and back view picture of myself at the beginning of each month. It is totally disgusting, but it is motivating too. The only problem I am having is that I feel so much better than I did when I started--I am losing my motivation a little! So, today I put the determination back into myself. I am rededicating my willpower--and I am going to do it!! My goal is to be able to get a job with Weight Watchers by next January. They only hire from within their own membership and you have to be at your goal weight and stay there!
So, today we went back to the gym. I was afraid that J. might freak out, but he did well. I worked harder than I thought I would be able to--but I am sure that I will suffer tomorrow! Oh well--that just confirms that I was working! I am going to try to make it to my trainer's pilates class tomorrow morning. Unfortunately, it is at 8:15, so if the children are still sleeping--I am not going to make them get up. We are getting back on the school schedule, but that is early even for that! (School starts at 8:25--in exactly 9 days!!)
Here are some good things that have happened to me from losing 46 pounds (so far). 1) The most obvious--I can shop in the regular department. Even though I don't shop much, when I do, it is nice to not have to go to the plus size area 2) I can take a regular bath towel to the gym. (I want to be TOTALLY covered in the shower area, so I was taking a beach towel, but now I regular bath towel wraps all the way around me with some extra so I feel "safe".) 3) When I stretch my quad muscles, I can grab my right ankle with my right hand and my left with my left (instead of having to do opposites because my leg won't bend far enough!) 4) I can get down on the floor to play with the kids and get bakc up again, without looking like a sea lion getting up on a rock 5) I bought a swimsuit yesterday and I didn't start crying in the dressing room--it doesn't look nearly as good as I want it to--but it is WAY better than it was (and the swimsuit was 75% off--which makes me even happier!)
The other great thing is that being back at the gym means I have child care for 1 1/2 hours. It makes me feel good, I get a shower, and I am ready to be around the kids again (I love them, but it sure doesn't hurt any of us to get a break once in a while!)
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