Looking forward to what the day will bring

We don't have very much planned today. We need to do some schoolwork, I'd like to make a dent in the living room mess, and the kids need to get outside for some fresh air.

We all slept in a bit today - it was so nice. I woke up with a small sinus headache, but nothing too terrible.

The kids have been having fun dressing up. Ah hem. With Baby's hair accessories. Even Little Boy. I'd post a pic, but I don't think that would be very nice. Let's just say, he'd make a very pretty little girl.

They sure are different

Little Boy can be stubborn, but usually he wants to please us. Baby? She's got both feet on the brakes ALL THE TIME.

It's exhausting.

Baby

I was cutting up an apple this morning for the kids' breakfast. Baby saw what I was doing, and said she LOVES apples "because they are so juicy and apple-y." Cute.

I love when the kids make up their own words or phraseology. Like when Little Boy says, "I amn't."

They make me smile muchly. :0)

Windy day!

Last night, DH and kids stayed home from church. They were next door and lost track of time. So I went by myself, and afterwards took the pastor's daughter out to Denny's. She and her husband now live near Pittsburgh, but she was home for a couple days. We had a very nice visit, and I hope I gave her some wise advise as they are looking for a house.

When I was coming home, the wind started picking up. It blew me all over the road, and soon I started seeing branches down. And after I got home, it got windier. I fell asleep holding my husband's hand. I'm not scared of many things, but wind scares me. If we didn't have a sound spa I am sure I would not have been able to sleep.

And when I woke up today, the wind is still gusty - between 28 and 35 mph gusts according to the internet. But I think it's been even windier than that up here on our little mountain. It's an inside day, to be sure.

Comedians

The little people who live in our house are funny without always knowing it. This morning DH got home from work and crawled into bed. We lay there for about 2 minutes listening to Little Boy play and sing in his room. Then we heard Baby slide off her bed and her little feet padded quickly to the door. DH thought she was coming into our room, so he rolled off the edge of the bed to scare her.

I don't know about you, but at 7:15 in the morning, I'm not thinking of playing jokes on anyone. She went into brother's room instead. DH crawled back into bed. We lay there for a couple minutes, and I'm pretty certain I did one of those deep almost-a-snore breaths. We heard them coming out, and once again, DH rolled off the bed. But he wasn't quick enough.

Little Boy - "Daddy. Why are you on the floor?" Baby came in and echoed him.

Daddy crawled around the end of the bed, growling, stating he was going to eat little toes. Of course, both kids were laughing and squealing. And someone tooted.

Daddy and I tried not to laugh. We don't laugh about toots at our house per my husband's instructions. Daddy asked, "WHO was THAT?"

Little Boy answered very matter-of-factly, "The one in the nightgown."

Everything is fun and games...

until someone loses an eye!

Well, we didn't lose any eyes, but Little Boy "accidentally" shot Baby in the eye with a suction-cup dart gun. It appears he hit her closer to the inside corner; it was red and she sat with a cool pack on it for awhile. After all the tears from both of them, she's fine and he's gun-less.

Frustrations

S-A-D, L-A-D, M-A-D, T-A-D, D-A-D, … I know you get the picture. Unfortunately, my son didn’t. And refused to try. And then, he started to flop. And fuss. And I felt myself “coming unglued”. All this ended with Little Boy sitting in the naughty chair, without getting to see his grandparents this morning and without Wii privileges for the day.

Part of his problem is the huge gaps we’ve had in our homeschooling this year. Between me or one or the other or both of them being sick, other things like appts., or Little Boy being in the hospital, it seems we haven’t had the consistency I’d hoped for.

The larger part of the problem is that he is resistant to learning to read. And is verbal about it. He can’t give a valid reason, but he says he does not want to learn how. I and others have tried to show him why it’s important, exciting and necessary, but he hasn’t embraced that, yet.

In the middle of it all, I felt myself losing it. But then, I hit that calm in the middle of the storm. I was able to mete out discipline without yelling, spanking, or wavering. I feel like this has happened more lately than it had been. It’s something I had not seen demonstrated growing up. Handling discipline calmly is something I know is right, and I need to work at it. The “Mom” in me wants to just give in to the anger and go berserk. How many times did we hear, “I’m going to spank you until my arm is tired”? That was when we were lucky. That’s when we were warned.

My kids deserve better. Pray for me as I continue to work on this issue.

No end in sight

I've been feeling weary lately. I spent a couple days vegging on the couch while the kids played here in the living room. It was like I had taken a sleeping pill; I was just so tired I couldn't wake up. I know that my son has a much harder road ahead than I do, but I've been feeling a bit sorry for myself. Every time I have to check his blood sugar or give him a shot, I want to stick myself, too. It isn't fair that he has to go through this alone. The least I could do is to feel the pain, too.

He sometimes fusses about it all, and I cannot blame him. I know he doesn't know how it kills me when he cries about it. But it also is frustrating; it HAS to be done.

Today he offered to get the shot in his abdomen. He actually said he prefers it there now. That's good. We have one more rotation area.

I started taking Reliv, again. I need to get back to it regularly, and I need to see my doctor. I missed my 6 month follow-up when Little Boy was in the hospital. I need to get back to taking my Wellbutrin. Between the Reliv and Wellbutrin, I know I'll feel better. And I need to get the den cleared out enough to use the bike and treadmill. And then I'll feel even better. And I plan to start back on a "diet" as soon as the Reese's PB Cup ice cream is gone. (I refuse to let it go to waste!)

I just think about testing blood and insulin shots for years to come, and I get very sad. I've been told that Little Boy is blessed to have parents who care, who comprehend how to treat him properly, who love him so much. I'm sorry; that is a very hollow consolation to a mother who wouldn't hurt her son in that way for all the world. I breathe a prayer for a cure every time I have to call him in.

Hang on to your hats

"The Obama administration will call for increased oversight of executive pay at all banks, Wall Street firms and possibly other companies as part of a plan to overhaul financial regulation, the New York Times reported."

Do I think there are executives who are paid too much? Yes. Do I think there are opportunities for companies to restructure and save money? Yes. Do I think it's the job of the government to regulate their pay?

NO.

Quit worrying about what people are being paid, and figure out how to CUT THE BUDGET! Figure out how to CLOSE AND PROTECT OUR BORDERS! Figure out APPROPRIATE GIFTS FOR FOREIGN DIGNITARIES! Figure out how to pack your stuff up in 4 years!

Poor Baby, again

I was in the middle of my Sunday school lesson, and I heard Baby wail. I knew immediately what was wrong. She has weak elbows, and for whatever reason, people at church try to pick her up by the hands. Her little elbow was dislocated, and I had to pop it back into joint. Eww. It's like cracking chicken bones. And it hurts her; I hate to see her little tears.

I need to make a sign for her to wear at church - "Please pick me up under the arms!"

Grrr.

Withdrawl

Going through withdrawl from BaptistMoms.com. What happened?

Oh well.

Best part of today?

Now, how to get out of the house to go get one?

Running from trouble

So, I'm in VBS mode, again. Not full-out, crazy-eyed, can't sleep mode, but just putting some thought into the program. I finished a basic flyer, and have been looking at different sources for any items that would tie in with the theme.

A 3-Day VBS Adventure with Jonah! I found a 3 day program online, and now I'm just thinking about some things to supplement it, since I find it thin in some areas. Church should already have a Jonah story for each grade level, but I'm not sure if the stories could be stretched to three days.

So it follows that I was thinking about the whole story of Jonah. Wouldn't his life have been so much easier if he would have followed the path God had for him from the start? And it would have been enjoyable if he had had a good attitude about it.

I wonder what happened to Jonah after the story in the Bible ended. Did he end up being a sour, old, shriveled up man? Did he learn from his mistakes, and obey God the next time He called on him?

Humanly speaking, sometimes it's hard to accept, much less rejoice, that good things happen to evil people, but it's not my call to make. I know my reward is in Heaven, and I have to keep my focus on being worthy.

Way too embarrassing!

I don't want my blog to be about politics, but occasionally, I cannot help it.

Our new president is inept. Are we surprised?

The following blogpost is cut and paste info from several news sites along with some of my comments:

First, his "people" returned the bust of Winston Churchill that had been in the Oval Office to the British Embassy. The bust had been given to our country from PM Tony Blair via President Bush. Insulting. Ouch. The Times of London immediately traced Obama's "disdain" for Churchill to Kenya where Obama's grandfather was caught up in the Churchill-led suppression of the 1950s Mau Mau Rebellion that left thousands of Kenyans dead.

That offensive act without explanation gave substance to an unconfirmed story making the rounds in D.C. that, when President Obama walked into the Oval Office for the first time and saw the Churchill piece, he said, “Get that goddamn thing out of here.”

It's common for the heads of countries to exchange official gifts, especially the first time they meet. The prime minister of Britain brought Pres. Obama some gifts that had significance - Brown gave Obama an ornamental pen holder made from the oak timber of the first anti-slave ship HMS Gannet.

Another treasure presented to the U.S. president was the framed commission for HMS Resolute from whose timbers the Oval Office desk is fashioned — a gift from Queen Victoria to President Hayes. A third was a signed first edition set of the seven-volume classic biography of Churchill by Sir Martin Gilbert.

Our president gave the prime minister a set of 25 DVDs of classic American films. Wow. No thought put into it - Brown is blind in one eye, and does not watch TV much. And our DVDs don't work in players in England - the format is different. Duh. But here's the list of DVDs Obama had put into a Presidential package:

* Citizen Kane* The Godfather* Casablanca* Raging Bull* Singin' in the Rain* Gone with the Wind* Lawrence of Arabia* Schindler’s List* Vertigo* The Wizard of Oz* City Lights* The Searchers* Star Wars: Episode IV* Psycho* 2001: A Space Odyssey* Sunset Boulevard* The Graduate* The General* On the Waterfront* It's a Wonderful Life* Chinatown* Some Like It Hot* The Grapes of Wrath* ET: The Extra-Terrestrial* To Kill a Mockingbird

Thrilling.

The Prime Minister's wife, Sarah Brown, brought gifts for the Obama daughters - outfits in correct sizes from a trendy London store, and a set of children's books that aren't available outside of Britain. Michelle Obama gave the PMs sons each a toy helicopter model of Marine One.

Then sources close to the White House say Mr Obama and his staff have been "overwhelmed" by the economic meltdown and have voiced concerns that the new president is not getting enough rest. Maybe instead of trying to undo everything President Bush put into motion, Obama should concentrate on figuring out what the heck he is expected to do. Or even better, hire staffers who know what THEY are doing so they can advise him.

The real views of many in Obama administration were laid bare by a State Department official involved in planning the Brown visit, who reacted with fury when questioned by The Sunday Telegraph about why the event was so low-key. The official dismissed any notion of the special relationship, saying: "There's nothing special about Britain. You're just the same as the other 190 countries in the world. You shouldn't expect special treatment."

Gasp. Did they say that? Did they just offend the most loyal ally the US has had for decades? (My husband is writing a letter of apology to the British Embassador.)

No wonder Obama's average approval rating is at 61%. Bush's approval rating after his first 50 days? 73%.

2012, people. That's all I can hope for.

300+1

Did you hear about the guy who bowled 300+1? No? Have you ever heard of someone bowling 300 and not winning? LOL? (groan)

This is the 300+1st post - or I wouldn't have made you suffer with that horrible joke.

Yesterday, I took Little Boy to Morgantown, again, for more diabetic education. We spent a large amount of time with a nutritionist, who gave me some more information about planning his (our) meals. Basically, the plan we're using counting carbs falls within her recommendations, so I'm not changing anything.

I have a longish list of things to work on today, so I'm off to get started.

Advice to Myself

I asked the question on my Facebook page, “If you could go back in time and give yourself advice as a child, what would it be?”

I was thinking about it after answering questions regarding my childhood and my relationship with my parents. I know my childhood was not all bad; the time I spent playing by myself and with my sister and the few friends I had was healthy. My siblings and I fought, but we also had fun. I remember living in Eagle Lake Manor and riding my bike all the time – good memories. My parents had occasional periods of treating us well; in my mind it’s like seeing speckles of sunshine through the leaves of trees. Just enough sunshine to keep me going forward as a kid. I am so glad I didn’t completely realize or understand as a child how bad it really was.

But I also know that my parents were toxic. One of the main reasons I am in therapy, in fact. I found a book online that I ordered, but haven’t received: Toxic Parents: Overcoming Their Hurtful Legacy and Reclaiming Your Life. Out of the 34 questions defining a toxic relationship, I answered yes to 28. I think one of the hardest parts of living in such a chaotic home was hiding it from others. I understand it – who wants the world to know what a mess one’s life is? It was unspoken that we didn’t share things with “the outside”. I’m sure people caught glimpses of it, but how would they know they were only seeing the pretty, green, top layer of the scummy pond?

So if I could go back and give myself advice as a child, I would have a lot to say.

· You’re not stupid.
· You’re not fat.
· You’re not ugly.
· You can do amazing things.
. Look for and cling to the good things in your life.
· You’re too smart to cruise through life.
· You’re a great helper, but you are more than a farmhand.
· You are not an adult – be a kid.
· You can relax and be silly in public.
· Who you are is more important than what other people think about you.
· God is more concerned with who you are inside than who you are forced to pretend to be for the sake of others.
· It is not normal for parents to treat you one way in public, and another way in private.
· You deserve to be treated with respect.
· You are a PRINCESS – a daughter of THE KING.
· You do not get bad grades because you are lazy or can’t do the work; you get bad grades because you are BORED.
· You are not your parents.
· Your thoughts and viewpoints are important and deserve to be heard.
· Your feelings are valid; it’s ok to be angry.
· Your frustrations are a response, not a reaction.
· People who make fun of you are mean, you are better than that, and parents are supposed to protect you, not join in.

I wish someone would have swooped in to protect me (and my siblings.) I wish someone had realized how toxic my parents were, and had been healthy and strong enough to confront, counsel, and teach them. I wish my parents had received counsel from people who were not toxic themselves.

I feel like my life is a huge, white canvas, and every person who has ever been involved in my life has placed a painted handprint on me. There are areas on that canvas that are still blank, some marked with happy, light colors. There are other areas that are dark, and saturated and blurred. In the end, God will make it all work together, and the masterpiece will be something beautiful. In the meantime, it doesn’t make sense. It reminds me of this. (CLICK ON THE WORD "THIS".)

It's a day

So, you already know how my morning started. And then it BEGAN. I fixed Little Boy his breakfast, gave him his shot and got him eating. Baby decided she wanted a breakfast bar and a drink of milk. Done. And then I walked out to the dining room to check on them.

There were splashes of milk on the hardwood floor in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. And I looked to the left. There was a trail of splashes all the way to the living room. And IN the living room - across the rug to the hardwood under the couch. And on some toys.

I became the Incredible Hulk. The yell that came out of my head wasn't mine. My head literally resonated. My already annoying headache immediately swelled. I ran for a towel, and asked Baby what on earth she was thinking. And it happened.

She smiled.

I gave her 4 swats on her little didie butt, and sent her to her room before I turned into my mother. She ran. Lucky girl. I went into the kitchen and cried. Out loud boo-hoos. Then I heard them. Both kids in their rooms boo-hooing. I called Little Boy into the kitchen and held him and comforted him. And sent him the other way into the living room. I soaked up the milk the best I could, since it's difficult to see milk on a cream colored rug.

I explained to Baby that she needed to stay in her room and play for awhile. I moved a couple things out of her reach that I didn't want her to get into. She stood in her doorway, asking, "Can I come out now?"

When I had calmed down a bit, I told her to come into the kitchen. She came prancing in with an unrolled streamer of ribbon flowing behind her.

I got her dressed and sent her and Little Boy outside. It's only 10 am.

My current wish

I wish I could go to sleep at night, not hear a thing, not wake up during the night (except for that one trip to the bathroom), and sleep in the morning until I wake up on my own. And I would feel rested and relaxed. I'd even be willing to take a couple Tylenol PMs.


Instead, I stay up too late watching a show on the DVR that I missed earlier b/c Little Boy is still awake eating his snack. Then I climb into bed to sleep a couple hours until the alarm goes off at 2 am to check Little Boy's blood sugar. At 5 am, the alarm goes off again as DH gets up to get ready for work. He leaves about 6:30, and very shortly thereafter, Baby gets up. She climbs into bed and terrorizes me for about an hour. I lie in bed wondering how my feet and legs can hurt so much after a night of rest; I feel the pain in my hands, back, neck and sinuses.

I finally get up and send Baby to the living room to watch Franklin. I hobble out to the living room to relax on the couch. Soon after, Little Boy comes out rubbing his sleepy eyes, and my hope for rest is shot.

I don't think a hotel is the answer; I hate the smell, and hotels are not quiet. MAYBE, I could send DH and the kids to the hotel. LOL

Stinky Mill Days

We live close to a paper mill. It's where my husband works. It's where his father worked. And his grandfather. We are immensely thankful for a place of employment that pays as well as the mill, and has very good insurance benefits (for the time being).

However, along with the benefits of the mill, come the pitfalls. The biggest one I can think of is the repugnant stench emitted. I was talking to Little Boy about it on our way home from the dentist. I said, "Remember what it's like when you go outside and it's really stinky?"

He said, "Yes! It's so bad it makes me want to put earplugs in my nose!"

I hadn't ever thought of it, but YES! That is exactly it!

Honeymoon and Pestering

Last night I was watching Little People, Big World. The Roloff family was visiting Mackinaw Island. I told Little Boy, excitedly, that Mommy and Daddy had been right there! I kept telling him, "We were there on our honeymoon!" He asked Daddy what I meant by honeymoon. Daddy explained that after people get married, they go somewhere to spend time together without being pestered.

Little Boy laughed wickedly. "But then you had babies, and NOW you get PESTERED! Ha ha ha!"

Daddy laughed, but I want to know what's so funny?

Gaining Weight

My husband wears pants that are one inch larger in the waist than he wore in high school. I gain weight by breathing. But someone in our little family has been gaining "good" weight. I need to weigh him, but Little Boy has been putting on the pounds. When we went to the pediatrician a week after he got out of the hospital, the doctor told us Little Boy had weighed 67 lbs at the beginning of 2008. The day he was checked into the ER, he weighed 47 lb. That's almost 30% of his body weight. Plus he grew taller. No wonder his pants were falling off. Poor kid.

But I put my arm around him as we snuggled on the couch today, and I felt something sweet and familiar. A little love handle.

Angry Alphabet

Little Boy's lesson began today with him putting our alphabet cards in order on the living room floor. He started flapping his arms and fussing. I explained that he could do it quickly and cheerfully - that would make Mommy happy. Or he could flap like a birdie, run out of time and receive discipline. And he had 15 minutes. I showed him the clock. He chose to fuss. I told him he was running out of time; he was getting more agitated, and said he wanted me to help him. I explained that all he had to do was say the abcs or sing the song. He wanted ME to sing the song. I was filing some of his papers, and I told him I would help him if he got stuck but that he had been singing the alphabet before he could speak clearly and didn't really need my help.

As the hand of the clock moved steadily toward the deadline, he got more upset. He finally started saying the alphabet. Angrily. With tears. And boogers. It took him less than a minute to finish. He really is very smart. And stubborn. I wiped his nose, held him in my lap, and asked if crying helped or made it harder. He saw that it made it harder. I asked if he was happy and proud to finish the task well. Nope. I tried to explain that if he had done it cheerfully and quickly, he WOULD feel happy and proud. I don't know if any huge lights went on, but then it was time for the next part of the lesson and he was much more compliant.

Childhood is so difficult. On us all.

Random Thoughts

The other day I was in the kitchen cooking (my whole life at this moment in time). Baby walked through and said, "Mommy. You HAVE to put your tag in!" Sure enough, the tag on my shirt was hanging out. (Should 3 year olds even care?)

This morning Little Boy wanted to race on the Wii. I told him Baby was watching the end of Handy Manny, and he would have to wait. As soon as it was over, Little Boy turned on the racing. He walked over to sit on the couch by Baby, and he stopped to kiss her head about 5 times. "Your hair smells really good." She said, "I took a shower to get my hair clean." And he kissed her head again.

While Little Boy was racing, Baby sat down on the floor between him and the TV. I told her to make sure she stayed low, and she said, "But I want to get my big head in the way." Sigh.

Baby's latest "fad"? Didie and a blankie. Regression.

Baby's legs are one big bruise. We went to the playland at BK yesterday, and daredevil that she is, she crawled everywhere. But she's not conscious of banging around. So she looks like she just survived a kick fight with her sister. But she doesn't have a sister.

My house is trashed. I tried to pick up the living room the other day. I ended up with about 6 piles of stuff to redistribute around the house. Before I got to it, my two beautiful children redistributed the stuff back around the living room. Sigh.

I need to call the guy who cuts my hair. Baby and I missed our appt. Thursday, because in my fog-filled head, our appt. was Friday. So she and I are both looking a bit rough.

I have the hiccups. They hurt. I know how to get rid of them, but I'm busy writing. Ok. They're gone.

I took Baby to church with me last night. It was cold and snowy, and she refused to zip her coat, and I was too frazzled to worry about it. She woke up from her nap super crabby. And late. I asked her if she wanted to go with me or stay home and go visit Grandma and Granddad. She wanted to go with me. So I fixed her a scrambled egg. She refused to eat it. So I ate it. And she had a meltdown when she came back and the bowl was empty. So I fixed her another scrambled egg, and she wanted me to feed her. I was watching the clock and I was getting later and later. (If I'm not there early, I feel late.) I fed her, changed her clothes - had to put "church" clothes on her - she wasn't happy with the princess pants I wanted to put on her b/c of the cold weather. And I dragged her out toward the car.

DH was staying home to finish his schoolwork. He had "a TON of stuff to do", ya know. Little Boy asked if he could stay home. Normally, I'd have made him grab something to eat and run out the door with us, but that isn't possible any more. So while I was dealing with Baby, I fixed a pizza, gave him Little Boy a shot and we ran out the door.

I usually take Baby to the nursery, because I cannot handle Little Boy and Baby by myself in the pew. Since she was the only one, I let her sit with me. She spent most of the time looking at the people behind us or scribbling on the notepad I gave her. The rest of the time was spent asking me when she could go to class. Thankfully, she didn't make any comments about the special music, because she doesn't know how to whisper.

Do you ever ask someone a question, expecting a simple answer, but what you end up getting is a long, drawn out saga? That happened to me. I asked a question that could have been answered with a yes or no, but I got a story. I don't have time for stories. At least, not other people's stories. LOL

Once't. Twice't. Can you say, "ARRRRGGGGHHHH." Our pastor has been saying this recently, and it's like someone squeaking a latex balloon next to my head. He's told me to correct him when he says something wrong, and usually I do not, but this may require some gentle conversation.

It's time for school work; maybe I can concentrate on the letter "W", and not all these random thoughts that jumble and tumble around in my head. Maybe.