My "getting squashed again" update

If I had known there was a difference between a screening mammogram and a diagnostic mammogram, I would have been worried. "Diagnostic" sounds so scary. The difference is the size of the paddle and the types of pictures they take.

Every woman there was doing the "diagnostic" stuff so we were all creeped out and worried together. A female bonding moment of sorts. One particular lady caught my heart and I really hope that she got news as good as mine.

It appears that my first mammogram showed 2 small spots on my right side. The radiologist thought they might be lymph nodes. The diagnostic mammogram showed the same two spots so I had to have an ultrasound done. The U/S tech and the radiologist couldn't find the spots which led them to believe that the "spots" really are lymph nodes. (From what I was told, lymph nodes look like breast tissue on U/S versus bad stuff that looks like bad stuff on x-ray and U/S.)
I go back in 6 months for a repeat performance of x-rays and ultraound to make sure nothing is "changing."

So, I am in circling mode. No huge red flags but no "You're clean. We'll see you when you're 40." either. I kind of wanted the latter but I'll take the former over the other available options.

Do those self checks and have that mammogram if you've been putting it off.

**UPDATE**
My regular old doctor just called to let me know that he is refering me to a breast surgeon for follow-up stuff. Minimally another set of tests in 6 months but possibly more. Now that I have a "finding" this new doctor will coordinate all my breast health care.

WOW. I have a foot health doc, a woman stuff doc, an eye doc, a plain old doc, and now the breast doc. I'm getting pretty specialized and running out of body parts. LOL

What's knit.

Here's A's acorn hat. ZooDad says it's a bit too feminine. (Ok..it is a bit girlish) But A likes it. It's (too) stretchy, soft, and just warm enough.

S is hamming it up as usual.

My other project (other than my unfinished socks) is making new Christmas stocking for the boys. I had planned to do a colored initial on each stocking. Actually I had planned to do their whole names but that's a whole lot of letters. So I scaled it back to initials.
Then I couldn't figure out how to strand correctly, so I went to a tone on tone patterning for the initial. In this picture you can just make out the purl stitches that form he letter J. In real life, it shows up a whole lot more.

I started this one Sunday. If I can figure out the kitchener's stitch, I'll have it finished my Turkey Day. We are spending a couple of days at MIL's so I can knit non-stop.
Specs....about 14 inches long currently. This picure is a bit wonky on perspective. The top band is about 3 inches wide and the heel is much smaller IRL. The top band is seed stitch on #6 circular needles and the rest is stockinette on #8 DPN's. The initial is just a purl stitch that I graphed out on a knitting chart. I used cheap-o Wal-mart yarn at 2.88 a skein. The $10 worth of yarn should make 4 stockings. I want to crochet a tree skirt then I should be ready to start on some Christmas presents.

Double your pleasure, Double your fun...

I'm here but I'm not here.
I'm getting ready for MIL's imminent arrival by mopping a floor that has been dirty for over a week and cleaning bathrooms.

MIL has her "eat a camera" test tomorrow. She has to spend tomorrow at the hospital I have a repeat mammogram tomorrow afternoon.
Yep, a repeat. Because it just wasn't nearly enough fun the first time. I have a "finding" that requires "additional imaging." Woohoo.
I'm trying not to be concerned because lots of people do repeat mammograms. The past family history keeps niggling up in my head but I'm doing my best to just let go of it and wait for God to take over.

So I'm knitting instead. I finished A's acorn hat in a day and I've started the 1st of four Christmas stockings. As J said, "They are just two pairs of big socks...that don't really match." These children have great faith in me.

If I'm not "here," Here's where I'll be...

I got the final date and hearing request form. As of November 30th, A will no longer have Medicaid. This means we have to stop all therapy until the beginning of the year. Hopefully by that time the school will step up and get their ball rolling. He qualifies but they haven't even started the IEP's or anything. If we don't have a start date by the end of the month, I will start legal action against them.

Speaking of legal action, If I'm not around this week it's because I am getting info together to request a hearing at the state level for Medicaid.
I have several salient points.

1. A's level of care has not changed in the 2 years from his initial approval to this denial. If that level was good enough for approval, it should be good enough for continuation.

2. He has shown progress. He's up from "untestable" to 6% in speech and from 1% to 4% in motor skills in general. So we aren't talking about a kid who will never reach full potential. He has an excellent chance of a productive life IF we can get the therapy.

3. We can't "get" the required 5 visits a week because the STATE limits us to 10 visits of each type of therapy a month. A has maxed out the ST part but can only handle half the OT load. Twice a week would kill him and me.
I even found my original notes WITH the name of the case worker from 2 years ago. We can subpoena her and the other parents in the support group if DFACS wants to backpedal.

I am defending against A's current case worker. She's on our side. All we have to do is convince the judge to come down on A's side
So I am putting together a book and having it bound. It will cover all of A's issues and the progress he has made in the past two years. I am including research to show that way the state has limited us at (10 visits) is counter intuitive to Apraxia treatment (5 days 30 minutes a day versus 2 days for an hour each) and also the predictions of future problems if these issues are not resolved.


I hate doing this stuff. I hate focusing on all the stuff he can't do and how behind he is.

I rather focus on what an amazing child he is and the fact that he read his very first sentences this weekend.

Cat. Cat sat. Fat cat sat.

No it's not fine literature but this is great, especially from a kid who wasn't even supposed to be potty trained by now. (He's potty trained AND reading.)

So if I'm not "here," I'm out preparing for battle. Me and A are taking on the whole world.

Cough, Cough

S started a gaggy cough this afternoon. Nothing serious, just occasional. But I have had enough experience with the random gaggy cough to know where that path might lead. I started the humidifier just in case but I'm doing my "croup-stay-away-dance" out in the back yard just for good measure. I also made sure we had ora-pred in the fridge.
Wednesday night.
That means we have one more day before it becomes a weekend issue. In Croup-speak that means odds are good that he'll get good and hacky by Friday. Oh, plus a family birthday party sweetens the pot a little too.

Or, his allergies are acting up and that means daily meds for the next two weeks.

Either way.
Joy.

Strange day

On the homeschool front, it was a good day. But it was odd in other ways.

Today was A's big therapy day. One hour of Speech and an hour of OT. That's two hours of waiting and "Waiting Room Schooling."
We often meet interesting people while waiting for A. Sometimes it's unruly and undisciplined kids. Other times it is grumpy old people and sometimes it is just nice curious people.

Today was a humdinger.

This older gentleman came in with a son my age who was being seen. He came right over to strike up a conversation with me. The conversation started out fine but went waaaaaaaaaaaay off center. He had lost his first wife to cancer and met his second wife due to his "dressing up."
What sort of dressing up you might wonder?
Well, he whipped out a picture when I didn't take the bait. A nice full bodyshot of him wearing a blonde wig, lots of make-up, a bright pink dress, and white 3 inch heels.

Oh my.

Eventually he asked about the boys and the schoolwork that we were doing. I told him that the boys were homeschooled.
That was just too much for him. He retreated to the other side of the waiting room to speak to his son about how odd WE were for homeschooling.
His son is apparently quite a tolerant fellow. I overheard him saying that he had heard that homeschooled kids turned out really smart.

It was kind of surreal.

Then on the way home down a very busy four-lane road, we watched a buck jump the guard rail and crash into the two cars in front of us. The people were fine. The cars were damaged. The buck spun on his back a couple of times before getting up and walking slowly off the road.
We talked about it for the rest of the trip home. The boys were sad to learn that the buck would probably die but it is best they know how life really works. They've gotten pretty good at spotting sugar coating, so I didn't even attempt to.

I didn't explain the waiting room guy though.

Get Squished!

Today is the day I have been dreading for the last two weeks.
Today, I get my baseline mammogram. I am beyond thrilled.

I know what you are thinking. You're thinking, "Sheila, aren't you a bit on the young side for a mammogram." Why yes, I am. I just hit 35 this summer. However, since I have a family history for breast cancer and since one member was diagnosed at 33 and dead at 35, I am actually a few years late.

So I double reasons to dread. First of all, it's no ice cream party and second...what if they find something?

I don't time to have a cold...much less something big. A takes up a large part of my worry and then I have to spread the rest of my worry out among various family members. I don't have any worry left for me.

So say a little prayer at around lunch today. I'll take a tormenting technition if everything looks all clean and dandy.

UPDATE***
It wasn't that bad. Mastitis was bad. That thrush infection that caused cracking and then went in deep...that was bad. The mammogram...not bad and quite short. I didn't get a bit of knitting done except to cast on for a new hat. (Alas the old hat, we barely new him. He was denied due to his colors and the winds of a a 4 year old's fancy.)
I get the report in a week.

Weekend recap

The boys are not aware that the weekend is over. They are begging to forgo schoolwork this morning to watch Iron Giant. No happening little men. Work...then play.

Let's see, the weekend.
Saturday we got up at he unholy time of 6:30 and dressed all the inhabitants, hooked up the scout masters trailer to ZooDad's v-8, loaded all the boys into my van, caravaned over to my mom and sister's town to pick up our Cub Scout Pack's popcorn. The Popcorn kernel was out of town and had entrusted that responsibility to us.
After loading up $4K of popcorn, we drown it back across town to a church where we were having a fundraising bazaar, unloaded it, counted it all again, and started distributing it to the various scout parents who came by. This kept us busy until 1pm. I knitted a bit. The boys jumped in the inflatable jumpers and ZooDad entertained another mom by sarcastically describing his morning's trip to Bo'Jangels for breakfast. Apparently he did a little employee training while waiting for our biscuits.
When we got hoe, we had lunch and a nap...generally wasting the rest of the day.

Sunday, I awoke at he unholy hour of 6 am and went to the grocery store. By 9 am, I was home, groceries were put up, and the children had all be fed. Yay me!
The kids played outside while ZooDad went into the office to get some stuff done. Then we all went to see Chicken Little. Cute, cute, cute movie but somewhat scary for the lady beside us. She screamed twice.
J was so adorable. He's getting to be a big boy and got embarrassed by the lovely behavior between two characters. At one point he covered his whole face and couldn't even watch.
M was oblivious and didn't even notice.
It was the baby's first movie. He did a great job and stayed in his seat and quiet for most of the movie. We always pick the same seating are each time. The row right behind the handicapped seats. I don't mind the people walking in front of us and it gives the boys a place to get up a stretch a little when they get antsy.
We got to see the Narnia Trailer and the Shaggy Dog and Cheaper by the Dozen 2 trailer. Those go on the movie list. Along with Goblet of Fire and Zathursia...or however it's spelled.

Cool. Movies to look forward to.

Booooooooo!

Here's the zoo residents on Halloween night.

J the nine-year-old with huge feet was a mummy. All of those strips are tacked in place except for the mask which has been "Wonder Under-ed."

Next to him is the baby. He's two and wearing my modified sweat suit. You can just see the purple wings that are sewn onto the back.

M, at age 7, is Luke Skywalker, not Anakin, not Han Solo, but Luke...the original Luke. I made the jacket and the "boots."

A (4) in is a turtleneck. It's hard to be evil and fashionable at the same time.

Also shown in this picture is my handprint covered fireplace door. (I wonder how it got that way.) On the left is a lovely basket that ZooDad brought back from Bosnia many years ago. It houses my yarn stash.
Below it are a stack of knitting books, and patterns.
On the very bottom are previous year's costumes which the boys wore Saturday night at the neighbors' party. More specifically, a Wizard suit, a dragon, suit, and a ghost costume.
On the right you can see S's talking lawnmower which must be nearby at all times. Thankfully, it has an on and off switch that S does know to use.

a rewarding day

Granted, if I measured it in the number of dirty dishes in my sink or the number of laundry loads finished...it would have been a total wash.
But on the "raising men" front, it was a grand success.

We started school late and did the bones, math, grammar, handwriting (fine motor skills), speech, and Latin. M started a new Magic Tree House book. He's easing into chapter books. It's not so much a problem with reading as it is a vision problem. Right now, he's not in glasses because we are still trying to get his eye aligned. But he has an astigmatism and all those words on a page...with no pictures...well, they just all run together. It's hard for him to stay on the right line and keep his place. Hopefully, that will all change next month when he gets new glasses.

J is still reading 21 balloons. He cam running excitedly to explain the professor's balloon to me. Once he said it was a hydrogen balloon, we took off down the rabbit hole to the Hindenburg and its tragic end. (Titanic of the Sky)
Then we dove into blimps in general and how they work and why we no longer put hydrogen gas in them. (Cool blimp site)

That led to a chemistry discussion on my Helium, a noble gas, is safer than hydrogen, a highly combustible gas. We also covered some buoyancy which led to displacement.

We had a late lunch of chicken noodle soup and crackers while the boys worked on their weekly Sudoku puzzles. Afterwards we baked 3 dozen cookies and the boys ate a few and played outside until it got dark.

When ZooDad got home, he was intrigued by the Sudoku puzzle so he and M did one together in a race against me after dinner. (I won!)
ZooDad loves that I am pushing the logical thinking right now. Thinking skills are most important in this household. The logic puzzle were the best thing I ever got out of my gifted "class." When you know how to think, you can figure out the rest.

Then I knitted, (That blue hat has been pulled out and started over. A decided he wanted the dark blue first and I would agree that it looks better.) and ZooDad and the boys went upstairs to work on Cub Scout awards. They finished all the work to earn their computer belt loop and pin.

3 B's...Bath, books, bed and it was time for my favorite show of the week...CSI.

Good day.

The lessons we teach them

S, who is two, was playing with a mega blocks truck and the little workman that accompanied it.
As he played, he dialogged his little fantasy.

"Man go to work. Man go home. Man go to Work. Man go home. Man happy!"
He repeated this over and over. His little man would get in the truck and got to work and then he would get out of his truck and go home and be happy.

I looked over at ZooDad and told him that our little two year old had already learned an important lesson. That a man goes to work to support his family then he comes home to be with them and this makes him happy. That working and being a provider then spending time at home is a worthwhile accomplishment. S has picked that up from watching his Daddy. Knowing that daddy does go to work away from us, but that he will come home and he will be happy.
What an amazing thing for a 2 year old to grasp!

Then I think of the two year old boys that don't have the experience of "man goes to work, man comes home, he's happy." What do they learn? Do the boys with absent fathers learn what men should do to support themselves and their families? Do they learn that they should always be taken care of because they only see their mom taking care of them. They never get to see the give and take relationship between a husband and wife. They sharing of responsibilities and the support given to make life more rewarding.
Currently 34% of all children born are illegitimate. If we assume half are males that means that 17% of all males born every day have no daily male role model. How do they learn to be fathers and husbands if they never see what a fathers and husbands do.

I don't know what to do about that. But I do fear what it will do for our society.

I sure am glad that my sons have learned those important lessons.
The man goes to work.
The man comes home.
and the man is happy.

Obligatory knitting post

I can crochet. In fact here's the beanie hat I just made for M. J has one just like it but it looks like camo material. J's doesn't have the eyelash yarn.


But crochet is limited. It has a great variety for texture but you really can't do the kind of stuff that you can with knitting. So I decided to learn to knit. So after a month of leaning stitches, pulling out rejected squares, and searching for the perfect toboggan hat...I finished my very first knitted project.
I'm rather proud of it for a virgin knitter.

I made it for A, but he rejected it because he wanted a beanie like his older brothers. Baby S loves it though. He puts it on his legs and stuffs toys in it. He pulls it down over his face like that kid from Fat Albert. It's just an all around cool hat as far as he's concerned.
Oh...the specs. Knitted on #6 straight needles and then seamed. (I crocheted it shut and the seam is nice a neat.

Now I have 2 other projects going on.
One is a hat for A. He chose the colors. I've just finished the ribbing and am about to add the stripes. 100% wool on #6 DPNs.


Here's the beginning of my socks. I did this last night at class. I am freaking out about the small yarn and the thin needles. I have to check like crazy to make sure I don't drop stitches. But it looks like it is going ok. I have 4 hours of class to learn to do the rest. Next week we do heels and the last week is finishing. Then I plan on making lovely socks. (I plan big.)

To recap the last couple of weeks.

Here's what's been going on in the zoo.

No cavities in anyone's heads. Yay us! The dentist eyes got big when J mentioned flossing on his own accord. Wow...kids that floss! There were threats to pull a baby tooth if it isn't out in 3 more days. (It finally got wiggly last night.)

Final denial for A's Medicaid. But the school has deemed him worthy of OT assessment. (That will happen in two weeks.) He can cut like a demon but has no writing skills. at. all.

Linda Blair is back. The van is currently sitting in front of the knitting store where she gave up the ghost (or maybe got one) after my sock knitting class. I'm reminded of a quote, I think, from the movie Major League. Something about "dance around with your hoodoo stick and shake your willy." Believe me if I had either and thought it would help...I would do it. It would be better than the dealership's approach.

I finished knitting project one. (A hat for S, I'll post pictures.) Started knitting project two (a hat for A) and also started knitting a sock for me. I also learned a new cast on, twisted German casting. (I was a thumb caster...practically a virgin.) It is complicated but stretchy. I have about 3 inches of hat and two inches of sock going. Everything is on DPNs because I am unable to handle those circular needles.

Halloween was a great success. One store bought costume and 3 made out of other stuff. We had Darth Vader (store) and Luke Skywalker. Then the Mummy and his trusty bat sidekick. Much candy was handed out, collected, and eaten. J was happy that everyone liked his mummy costume and knew what he was.

We had our yearly food drive. 9 adults and 20 kids collected 1050 pounds of food and $236. Then that evening my neighbor had a great adult party which happened to have a few kids. We got the ultimate compliment from a drunken pirate. "Man, when I have kids....I sure hope they are as cool as yours." (I thought they were supposed to be nerdy homeschool kids.)

Because I can't go anywhere or do anything else do tot he possessed van issue...today we have school and laundry. Maybe an unschool and a mostly housework day. I've been to the library. I have Climbing Parnasus and a ton of cool math, optical illusion, and caldecot winning books. J is giggling through 21 balloons. M is reading "A place for Zero" and A is obsessed with alphabet books. Thankfully, we have tons or I would be very sick of Chicka, Chicka, Boom Boom.
I've got a nice pot of grits going and I might even cook some bacon. We've got plans for cookies this afternoon. And sock sorting.
If we are lucky we might just get 3 days of this before the hectic "go here, go there" starts up again.
Hot digitty!

I need a priest

Because I enjoy general chaos, it seems to flock to me like seagulls on a half eaten sandwich.

Oh yes.

Yesterday my van pulled a "Linda Blair." All of a sudden, it powered down (while I was parked) and wouldn't crank. I freaked out and said the vocabulary words the boys have heard and know not to repeat. Then I tried cranking again....click, click, click. Nothing.

Then real panic set in. ZooDad was at the hospital for MIL's body inside camera exploration. Non-working nephew-in-law was with my mom at the hospital for her stuffed in a tube test. My sister was doing pay roll and watching the two kids my mom usually has (thus no room for our five more.) So everyone who would come get me couldn't come get me.
I was at a lost...so I call my friend Jacqui who sent over her wonderful husband. He cleaned the terminals, tried charging the batteries and looked under the hood in a "I know what I'm doing" kind of way that made me feel a bit calmer.

None of that worked. And the van just got freakier and freakier culminating in the wipers going off without me turning on the switches. And I don't even use the rear wiper. How crazy is that? We were both weirded out.

In the end, ZooDad abandoned him mom long enough to grab us and drop us back home. And we didn't get to scouts

Hours later he returned to work his own special mojo on my possessed van with no luck. He even experienced the random window wiping and as a bonus the cleaner fluid sprayed for him. It was like a Car Talk scene from the Exorcist.
He then decided to try one last time....and the demon cranked. It worked fine. We took it to the dealership who told me today that nothing was wrong with it. At. All.

Lovely.
So I had some stuff done that they suggested, which thankfully was part of my pre-paid service plan stuff (they loved that...oh yeah. It took hours to work that little deal out. At one point they wanted to charge me for diagnostic tests that didn't find a problem.) and I get Linda back tomorrow.

Hole in the Head

No it's not a statement of my well-being.

The oscar fish (Oscar and Elmo) appear to have Hole in the Head. Bad news: The fish are developing HOLES in their HEADS. Good News: It's the bad water/high stress HITH and not the infested with awful parasite HITH.
Now there's a silver lining.

Can you imagine getting that kind of diagnosis?

"Well, Mrs Zoo. You seem to have Hole In The Head."
[blink, blink]
"But no worries, it's just stress and a dirty house. We'll get you some vitamins. You'll need rest and a clean habitat. A good diet will speed things up. No actual parasites or wormy things. Just good old fashion bacteria eating your skin off."

Poor fish.
They already have the clean tank and good food. Now I have to get some Hole-in-the-head Be Gone from the pet shop tomorrow. (I'll work it into the schedule.)
I wonder if it works on people?

I'm it!

Jacqui tagged me. I know it was in retaliation.
So for all that is holy, I will tag no one else. (Be thankful but worry not, someone else will tag you.)

I was instructed to:

Search your blog archive
Find your 23rd post
Find the fifth sentence [this is meant to say something about you...]
Post that sentence in your blog along with these instructions
Tag five people to do the same

"I want somebody to hang with."

That's what I posted almost a year ago. I still want someone to hang with. I'm still in limbo land. Too secular for the Christians. Too Christian for the seculars.
Still diggin' Darwin. Still ultra-conservative politically. Still a big mouth and kind of wild. Still don't own any Abeka. Still full of Faith and still see God's blessings in the smallest of things. (Thanks again Big Guy for that parking space today. You gave me the boost I really needed.)
Still feeling a little lonely and wondering why.

The problem is simple....

too many d@mn Queen Bees in the Hive. I'm waiting for the final two to show up but she may well not. I believe one has found another hive to frequent that is more compatible and the other has been quiet for a while.
It's better than Survivor. Which highly opinionated woman will be left standing on the Web Board Vote Off?
Sick? Yeah, I am. Sad? That too. But I am most times smart enough not to get involved in board drama unless one of my personal homies is attacked.

The queen bees are why I hardly ever post anywhere. They are so sure that theirs is the one and only right way and that all others who toe a different party line are inferior and uneducated. And I'm a very easily hurt person who holds deeeeeeeeeeeep, loooooooooong grudges. I forgive, but I never forget. ;)

I'm a lousy Queen Bee. I'm the first one to say, "Hey, I couldn't do it...but I'm happy as a pig in mud that it's working for you." That and the fact that I feel so lousy when I hurt people's feelings even inadvertently.

So part of me is envious that these women feel that they can stand so strong. Part of me feels...I hope people don't see me that way.

Just checking...but I posted the same darn rant last month. Almost to the day. I'm going to have to come up with a form rant just to same myself the trouble. Maybe several. That would be calming in a sort of way. I could just pull up my rant, read it, and then feel better with no real time loss at all.

Hmmm....I could even put hot links for visitors to easily find the rant they need.

Crazy women on web boards...click here
Contractor who make appointments but don't show...click here
Public school bureaucrats...
Family members who get way to involved in the dynamics of your household...
Nosey Neighbors...

Oh yeah...I can just see it.

OK Folks. Tuesday is booked

If there are to be any other "happenings" t, his week please pick a day other than Tuesday.

1. M has speech at 11 am.
2. J and M have scouts from 2:30 to 4:30. This is a busy meeting with achievement stuff to work out plus plans for the food drives (both my responsibility)
3. MIL has her colonoscopy at 12:30 pm to find out why she is broken. ZooDad is taking off from work since she has to have a driver. I can't take her because of the speech/scouts thing plus I would need some one to watch my boys and my mom can't because...
4. My mom has a CAT scan tomorrow at 10:30 am to find out why she is broken.

So my nephew-in-law will take my mom while I tote my boys around and ZooDad takes care of his own mom. Once we get home, I'll have to be good hostess because ZooMIL is spending the night to avoid the 1.5 hour trip home and the fact that she can't drive for 24 hours. (Plus we need her in town in case there are complications.) At some point, I'll have to bug off to see my mom and coo over her sufficiently to make up for the whole not-able-to-take-her-for-the-scary-stuck-in-a-small-tube test.

Wednesday is no good either. We have the regular school/2 hours of therapy going on plus MIL's visit/recuperation.
But Tuesday is full. If you happen to see me Tuesday, do not expect witty humor or even much patience at all. If I am smiling maniacally, just complement me or something and then leave me alone.

I have let both mothers know that if they are going to have to get together and schedule this stuff. We can't have this kind of conflict going on. Oh and some prayers for both Moms and if you've got some spare energy, patience, and three extra hands laying around...I'll take those for me.

Overheard at the "Zoo"

Said by two-year-old S while holding a giant Nerf gun: "I'm gonna shoot you. Stand still."

Said by ZooDad after hearing the above quote: "Maybe he'll be an ATF agent."

Said by A in the van: "When I'm a Dad, I'm going to have just one kid because we only have one seat left."
Said by A after I told him that when he was a Dad, he'd have his own car with lots of seats: "Then I'll just have 4 kids. I don't want to have a lot."

Said by J while he was unloading the dishwasher: "we just keep washing the same dishes everyday. It never gets done. Right when all the dishes are clean, we just go and eat again."

Said by M who was examining the laundry pile: "12 socks, 6 pants, 6 shirts, 6 underwear...every day mom. Every day."

We have a quest

I feel like Queen Sheila and my knights of the Not-quite-rectangular-because-the corners-are-rounded-off table. Today we have a quest. Today we must obtain proof on paper than the 3rd Knight, known as the Knight-who-says-much-but-nothing-very-clearly, can indeed hear the things going on about him. It is our own little Holy Grail because once we obtain this powerful relic, we can unlock the rewards of the (fanfare) Public School System.

We must endure yet another hearing test and see if the elusive beeps can be heard and thusly indicated to the nurse. We have failed this endeavor twice now. It is not that the precious beeps can not be heard. The problem is that the 3rd knight doesn't process them and the fact that when he does... he forgets he heard them. (The 3rd knight is not known for his attention to detail and time on task.)

So there is the challenge. We are waiting until our bellies are full of ham and mayo sandwiches and fresh fruit to set our on our journey. But we will go where ever we must to obtain the "Holy Hearing Certificate"

We will battle impatient nurses, climb bureaucratic mountains, fight our way through appointment forests. We will even bravely face the audiologist if we can ever get an appointment and then fax this precious document to the school nurse.

I'm off to round up coconut shells. We us luck.

UPDATE!
We have obtained the precious certificate of good hearing. The Knight-who-says-much-but-nothing-very-clearly managed to indicate that heard 9 out of the 10 tonous beeps and all is well in the Land of Zoo. Said document is now in the hands of the County Powers That Be and we anxiously await their ruling.

so she just dropped off the face of the Earth

naw...the inhabitants of the zoo and my grumpy co-zoo keeper have been keeping me quite busy.

Things I need to do this week:
1. Reinstall my camera CF card reader thingie so I can more easily upload all my cool pictures. I have gap toothed ZooKid picutures, my latest crochet projects, and our visit with the aligators as well as a picture of my Poke'mon cake.
2. Finish J's camo sk8ter boy hat. M's cranked out quickly but J's large noggin is creating a delay.
3. Find a decent knit or crochet pattern for toboggan style hats.
4. Call the county and a. get them to do something about thier tree which is uprooting my driveway, b. question them about A's special needs evaluation, and c. get homeschool fliers to the BOE.
5. Finish painting the upstairs bathroom and...
6. Put up the wallpaper border and...
7. Put all the bathroom stuff back in the room. (towel holders, shower curtain rod...ect.)
8. Force ZooDad to start replacing the tile that we replaced and then had to pull up and cart back to Lowe's because it was defective.
9. Drag out winter clothes and get rid of the old, worn, and out grown.
10. Plan some lessons so we aren't flying by the seat of our pants.

The big party with 31 guests wasn't even the big news

Today M had his 7th birthday party, though the actual date isn't until tomorrow. We had a Poke'mon party complete with a Pikachu cake and a Poke'ball cake. I'll have to post pictures of it tomorrow since the grand celebration wasn't the biggest news of the day.

The truly big news was that M lost his very first tooth today!

It was quite a day long ordeal. It began this morning when I decided that I needed floss everyboy's teeth including the two that had been flossing their own.
I was shocked-just shocked- to see that M had a almost full tooth coming in behind one of his baby tooth and another erupting behind the neighboring tooth.
Thus began the Great Wiggly Tooth discussion of 2005.
No, he wouldn't let me pull it.
No, he didn't want to go to the dentist.
No, no, no, touching it. Leave me alone you tooth crazy mom.
ZooDad interceded by reminding me that it was against parenting laws to traumatized children at their own birthday parties so I let the issue drop.

At the end of the party, the tooth was downright wobbly.
No, he wouldn't let me pull it.
No, he didn't want to go to the dentist.
in fact, he didn't want the tooth to come at all because his brother said it might bleed.
Ok, little man. So I fed all the boys some left over party pizza and headed out to the bookstore to fondle the wares and wind down from the party chaos.

ZooDad called me twice at the bookstore; once to tell me that the to the tooth was bleeding while the child attempted to eat pizza and the second time to tell me that said child just wanted me to pull the tooth out.
By the time I got home, The owner of the supper wiggly tooth had chickened out and was back to the "I don't want it to fall out bit." I convinced him to let me wiggle it a bit and I wiggled it right out of his head without so much as a whimper.
After 2 minutes of wiping his former tooth's spot and fervently checking his mouth in my make-up mirror, he announced..."I'm glad that's out. I thought I'd never loose a tooth."

Now we have a birthday visit from the tooth fairy. Oh, yes...this has been discussed by the boys in the space themed bedroom. A birthday visit for a very first lost tooth must be extra special indeed.
Poor tooth fairy. She's never come on a birthday before. She may have to swing by the 24 hour Wal-Mart before she goes to bed. I would advise her to do that. One of those gold dollar coins ain't going to cut it tonight.

One tooth down, 19 more to wiggle out under protest.

My 5th child

It didn't take me nine months but I am responsible for it. I am the website chick for our support group.

I made this... Homeschool for YOU

I'm rather proud. I've even gotten tot he point where I can make quick changes without too much chaos. That's a good thing. Now if I can get the emails through the knology spam blocker, I'll be cooking with gas.

He's going to marry a floozy but she'll have to knit her own hat

M is almost 7. Just a few more days. He already has definite ideas on the fashion and beauty of women. And he's already learned how to beat around the bush to avoid hurting feelings, for the most part. He's also learned to avoid answering the delicate questions.
He like it when I paint my nails red and wear red lipstick. He also likes when my hair is big and curly. He's going to end up marrying a "Fran Drescher" wannabe but he will treat her wonderfully.
I've been painting today and stripping the 20 year old wallpaper from the boys' bathroom. I was quite a sticky, paint-covered mess when I announced that I needed to buy a light fixture from Home Depot.
"You're not wearing *that* to the store, are you mom?"
Actually, no... my 6 year old man. I was planning to change clothes and brush my hair before stepping foot out of the house but thank you for looking out for me.

I'm learning to knit. It's not going well. I can crochet like a fiend. I am a menace with a hook and yarn. But with the needles...let's just say that it requires a lot of thought. ZooDad said he was happy to see me working with yarn again. He said that it seemed to calm me and that I made nice things.
Ha, ha, ha...little does he know that I am trying to knit. I shall be neither calm nor churning out nice things.
I am getting pretty good at making square things with a basic stockinnet stitch. Anything beyond that taxes my brain too much. Everyone is getting washcloths for Christmas.
With crochet, I can veg out and watch TV. The stitches are varied but don't require much thought. With Knitting..."ok the instructions say knit 3 purl 2. Knit, knit, off jumps Jack, Arg...honey, how many knits was that...did I drop a stitch...why do I have an extra loop here...yes, I have to say the little rhyme...if I don't I forget if I'm knitting or purling...was I knitting or purling...aw shoot."
It is far from relaxing and all the chatter annoys ZooDad. But the boys want hats and I just can't find a decent crochet boys hat. And don't even get me started about crocheted socks....uuuuuuuuuugly. ZooDad has issued an ultimatum on yarn work in bed. He found my stray crochet hook in the night. He was not a happy camper.

The enemy called. Not that enemy...the other one. The County schools' special needs director called to set up an evaluation for A next week. I am breaking down and attempting to secure services from the school system. I'll have to see what kind of dog and pony show they have and determine if the hoops are worth jumping through. If we can all play nice together, it might be a nice supplement for my little guy.

The "Attempting to secure services" reminded me...we got new 12 mile Walkie talkies. The boys take them with them when they head out to play. (Not that they go even a half mile from the house.) ZooDad wouldn't let the boys use them until he had taught them proper radio protocol. He's a former communications Officer, so I would not expect less.
I cracked up laughing when I heard my oldest say "BFG, this is Scorpion 1. We are approaching the house. Estimated arrival is 1 minute. Out."
ZooDad said that his soldiers weren't that disciplined on radio protocol. He was a proud Daddy.

And for Dy. Mrs Sheehan is the mother who has been protesting at the President's Crawford Ranch. I alternate between extreme annoyance of her and great pity. She's been saying a lot of things that she really has no area of knowledge of and is being used by some wackos I fear. She got involved in a "sit-in" at the White House and apparently the WHG's didn't find her nearly as endearing as they found me. (bat, bat, bat.)
I did read about the elderly looter that was arrested in NO. I don't quite know what to make of the Men in Blue of that elevationally challenged city. Any news of their actions tends to bring on Tourette's like symptoms where I am shaking my head violently and saying words that the boys will never have on their spelling tests.

You have to be nice to the Secret Service Guys

Mrs. Sheehan's arrest yesterday reminded me of our trip to the White House a couple of years ago.
I hung out behind right by the fence on Pennsylvania Avenue for quite some time and managed not to be arrested, even when I brought up shooting the White House.
I guess the Secret Service guy found me endearing.

Either that or as a mom of three boys (one in a baby sling) with a Former-Army hubby, I didn't seem much a threat. I'm sure that overhearing my pervasive Republican brainwashing of my children may have saved me also.

ZooDad still laughs about my conversation with the Secret Service guy. It went something like this:

Me: WOW! I didn't realize that the White House was this close to the road. You could shoot out a window with a BB gun from here. Now wonder you have all the crazies stay over there. motioning to the park across the street filled with protestors and numerous unwashed and unkempt people.

White House Guy with an earpiece: Ma'am

Me: So is the back door to the White House.

WHG: It's the North Entrance.

Me: So that would be the back door?

WHG: It's the North Entrance.

Me; So which one is the main entrance on the lawn?

WHG: That's the South Entrance.

Me: Well, wouldn't that make the "North Entrance" the back door and that (pointing) would be the "West Wing."

He cracked a smile.

When we recall this story, ZooDad always wonders how much indoctrinating these guys had to go through to remember not to call it the back door.

We stood there about 15 minutes total, talking with the WHG and chatting with the boys about the President and the White House in general. And this was a week after the congressional anthrax scare and a month after 9/11.
I didn't even get arrested. I got snickered at. I guess I'm no threat suspect.

I have not fallen off the face of the earth.

I have been busy battling the state. This means that I am just standing precipitously close to the edge but I still have not fallen off... yet.

As some of you know, my 4 year old is a special needs child. He has dyspraxia, apraxia of speech, sensory integration disorder, and developmental delays. He is not autistic. I work with him every day with the advice from his therapists and he has $2000 in therapy each month to try to bring him up to speed. Our insurance pays for the first 20 visits and our son qualified for Medicaid for disabled children which paid for the rest.
Well, they used to.
The state has recently denied him Medicaid. Apparently, being a four year old child who is at 20 months ability in speech and in the 2% in preschool abilities is just not disabled enough to matter. It would seem that, I need to wait until he is a young adult who can not, speak, write, or dress himself before the state views him as "qualified for services." Of course, by then it will be too late to do anything about it.

I am fighting it.

It has been especially hard because all the letters I am collecting to fight the state bring up things that I just haven't thought about before. What if he makes no further significant gains?

What if he is 16 years old and can't zip his pants or tie his shoes. What if he can never carry on a conversation with adults? What if he never learns to write or read? How will he drive a car if he can not judge dangerous situations? How will he hold down a job if he can't tell where he is in space or how to manipulate objects? Will he be able to cook a meal if he can't even use a fork?

I know it's a worst case scenario. I know he's only 4 and no one can tell what progress he will make. I've just never thought of much past next month or next year. I've never entertained the thought that he would be anything other than a productive citizen, father, and husband possibly with a mild speech problem and some reading slowness.

It just never occurred to me

Now that it has...I'm all set to fight the state. My letters are written, copied and prepared to certified mailed. My letter to the Governor is ready. I've already drafted another to his Director of the Council of Developmental disabilities.

I am fighting, not for myself, but for one little guy who doesn't have the voice or ability to fight.
He just happens to be my son.

A man on our support list once wrote, "Apraxia took my voice and a world that equates muteness with ignorance took everything else."

My child will not have that experience.
Not while I'm still standing.

Outside, I'm smiling and friendly

Inside, I am grumpy and resentful.

I am tired. I am tired of feeling annoyed by cattiness. I'm tired of superiority issues. I'm tired of feeling that I should keep my (well-researched and passionate) ideas to myself so we can all enjoy a spirit of "diversity."

I've never understood why tolerance meant "everybody but Christians" or why people feel that I must accept their beliefs.

And if the question doesn't apply to you...don't answer it. If someone asks "How often do you study Latin each week," an answer like "We don't." is not a polite option. If you don't, keep it to yourself. You are putting down another person decision when you do that.

Any statement that begins with "I might be in the minority here..." Should also not be said. Your attempt is not to educate but the belittle ,shame, and demean. (Oh, that poor ignorant majority.

I'm aggravated and I am tired of dealing with it.
I'm ready to crawl into a cave and ignore everyone.

So I've decided to not deal with it anymore.

I'll just smile....and move me and mine to the other side of the room.

We did it all.

Yep, we got our very overloaded schedule finished today.
ZooDad got home late last night. This was his third trip in as many weeks. The boys are excited to have Daddy home on a weeknight for a change.
Because he was driving most of the night, he stayed home today.

Yep, it was a miracle. We managed a full school day with Daddy home and A's 2 hours of ST and OT. I am so amazed with myself. Usually, when ZooDad is home, everything goes right down the drain. We just all kind of hang out and bum around.

J started his new LCI DVD lesson today. He totally loves it. ZooDad said that he (J) spent and hour afterwards trying to teach him (ZooDad) Latin. It was a exercise in futility.
ZooDad's idea of a dead language is FORTRAN.

M had a sentence quandary in R&S English. The sentence was
"School is"..."a gift from God." or "a lot of work." He couldn't bring himself to answer that one. This is the same kid who announced yesterday that if he did go away from school, his favorite part of the day would be going home.
Hee, hee, hee. Thank goodness we homeschool.

A is plugging right along. He's so intelligent. I'm dragging out my Reading Reflex book to start teaching him to read. He already knows all the letters and sounds. His K level math book is far too easy for him but he lack the fine motor skills to do harder work.
It the writing that is holding him back and it will for a long time to come. I just have to find a way around it.

Quote of the day:
From The Frog and Toad Treasury
"The whole world is covered with buttons and not one of them is mine." This was said by 9 year-old J while his Daddy looked everywhere for the wall charger for his cell phone. He found everything but the one fitting the current phone. We all cracked up but ZooDad could not see the humor.

The last one makes up for the third one's delay

The baby can talk. Oh boy, can he talk. And talk he does. He just talks and talks. I know he's making up for A's quiet times but still. Woooweee. My ears get tired.
and because I feel like sharing my pain, here's this evening bedtime conversation.
The setting: the youngest two Zoo Children's room. S in one bed. A and myself in the other.

S begins:
Mom, Andrew's downstairs.
Andrew's downstairs.
He's downstairs.
Mom
Andrew's downstairs.
Andrew's downstairs.
He is.
Sam, Andrew is in his bed.
Where is he?
I don't see him.
Where's Andrew?
Where is he?
Where's Andrew?
Where's Andrew, Mom?
Where's Andrew?
I don't see him'
Andrew sits up and glares at his brother who will not be quiet.
Oh, There he is!
There's Andrew.
He's in his bed.
Andrew is in his bed.
in his bed.
Not in my bad.
You in his bed.
You not in my bed.
Oh no.
My blankie.
My blankie
blanky
help
fusses and grunts while pulling his blanket.
my blanky
help, mom
I get up and fix the blanket
There. It's all good now.
All good
Thank you mom.
Thank you
all good now.

Andrew finally loses it.
Go to sleep Sammy.
See outside
It is dark
it is night
it's time to sleep
stop talking and go to sleep.
you sleep at night.
you don't talk all night
you sleep
GO TO SLEEP.

10 seconds of quiet and then I hear a sigh from the other bed.

I want something to drink.
I want something to drink.
ooohhhh, blankie.
Where's Elmo.

Andrew then loudly complains:
He just doesn't want to go to sleep.


It was all could do not to crack up laughing.

41 things

That's like, 40 things too many. Since I am a literalist and Harriette said I had to do this just because I stoped by to look at her pretty pictures. Here's this meme because I am procrastinating.
I'm tagging Jacqui and Penny to do this one. Local love for ya'. Anybody else that wants it can join in too.
1. What is your full name? Sheila I don't tell people the rest online. It's kind of distinctive and I already have a crazy stalker that teaches high school english.

2. What color pants are you wearing? none...scandalous

3. What are you listening to right now? Shep Smith on Fox News, 4 boys giggling over Spongebob squarepants. In the CD player: James Taylor.

4. What was the last thing you ate? McDonald's! ZooDad is in NJ and we grabbed something on the way home from scouts

5. Do you wish on stars? Nope. I do look for constellations and planets.

6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Crayola Razzmatazz

7. How is the weather right now? 84 and little humidity. Very nice

8. Who is the last person you spoke to on the phone? My mom

9. Do you like the person who sent this to you? Yes, she's a great Southerner and mom of boys.

10. How old are you today? I had to to do the math. I'm 35.

11. Favorite drink? Sweet tea and good margaritas

12. Favorite sport to play? I don't play anything. I love coaching baseball and basketball.

13. Hair color? dark brown with some chocolate highlights

14. Do you wear contacts? Ewwww...no. I have glasses that I am too vain to wear. I can't put stuff in my eyes.

15. Do you have any siblings? My sister and brother are 17 and 16 years older than me. I'm the baby baby.

16. Favorite month? April. Flowers, nice weather, Easter

17. Favorite food? Pizza and boiled peanuts. Not together of course.

18. What was the last movie you saw? At home: Constantine, In the theatre: National Treasure

19. Favorite day of the year? Halloween, Our neighborhood is great. It is just a fun, fun day.

20. What do you do to vent anger? My poor hubby listens to me. He just listens, and listens, and listens.

21. What were your favorite toys as a child? I really didn't play with toys. I did love my Tree Tots though.

22. Summer or winter? spring?

23. Hugs or kisses? Caramel kisses...oh yes

24. Chocolate or vanilla? chocolate with that magic shell stuff

28. When was the last time you cried? Today

29. What is under your bed? Dy will love this one. Ok...6 gas masks, replacement filters, a bug out kit, a wind up radio, and a wind up flashlight. oh and some shoes.

30. Who is the friend you have had the longest? Dale and he's a democrat

31. What did you do last night? I ironed and I hated it.

33. Plain, buttered or salted popcorn? buttered and salted

34. Favorite car? I love my van, a town and country. I wish I had leather though.

35. Favorite flower? The big pom-pom mums

36. Number of keys on your key ring? 2, I lead a simple life.

37. How many years at your current job? 9 it's a lifetime appointment

38. Favorite day of the week? Saturday, that's family day.

39. What did you do on your last birthday? I had cake and ice cream and was serenaded by 5 handsome men. (are you envious?)

40. How many states have you lived in? 3 (GA, SC, and NC)

41. How many cities have you lived in? city, town, suburb???? Now this gets complicated. 3 cities, 1 suburb, 3 towns

Hurricanes and Governors

I am a hurricane junkie. I was in Columbia when Hugo hit; in Augusta when David hit, and in Fayetteville when Fran hit.
I also took meteorology as an elective right after Hugo. My professor concentrated on Thunderstorms and hurricanes. Lots of Lightening. Lots of Hugo.
So I watch everything hurricane related. I even plot them on my own little map and make strike predictions.
I am nerd.
Here's what I have noticed:

A hurricane (or four) hits Florida and Jeb Bush is out rallying. Supplies come in and the people are taken care of. Or course, his brother is the President of the United States. So you know brothers have each others backs.

A hurricane hits Alabama and the Governor is out rallying. Supplies come in and the people are taken care of. But he is Republican if that matters.

A hurricane hits Mississippi and the Governor is out rallying. Supplies come in and the people are taken care of. But he is Republican and one super strong political dynamo. In fact, he is the possible next presidential choice, if that matters.

A hurricane hits Louisiana and nobody is out rallying. The mayor is cussing and blaming. The governor was crying on TV and I haven't seen her since. According to her office, she started making some emergency orders on the 31st.

The 31st, she ordered the Special officers commission to, in a sense, deputize more officers
On the 1st, she ordered the emergency occupation of hotel and motel rooms.
On the 2nd, she ordered the evacuation of the affected area using buses, specifically school buses.
On the 3rd, was an order stating that there was a public health emergency. (Which the federal government did on Friday also.)
And also an order to commandeer private property and reduce state restrictions on imported items and supplies. There was a third order to release restrictions of road rules for transport trucks as in weight limits, size of beds,…ect.

That was Friday.
Before that, you had to follow state law.
If your truck was too big, you couldn't go.
If you didn't have paperwork, you couldn't go.
If you didn't pay the state tax, you couldn't bring in gas.
If you didn't have a CDL liscence, you couldn't throw people on a bus and head to Houston like that 18 year-old New Orleans young man did.

And speaking of the evacuees in Texas, there's a lot of them. They seem to have a very good emergency plan for disasters and massive releif. Who is the governor there? And who used to be?

Hmmm...well, that's all I know or can say. It's a deplorable situation on all levels.

A reminder for everyone

Over the past few days, we have been watching the footage of the destruction in our sister states.
I've never been one to shelter the boys, so they have watched it also and I have explained what has happened and what is going on.

As I explained to the boys that these people had lost every single thing they had, six-year-old M piped up, "No Mama. They still have their souls."

I was speechless.

Then my 10 year old chimed in. "It's ok Mom. God knows everything. He has those people in heaven now where He can keep them safe. He's watching over all the other people even if they forget."

I wish I could get their message to those people. I think we all could use the reminder.

Grumpy grump rant

The very grumpy elderly gentleman in the Occupational therapy waiting room.

I am very sorry that my 2-year-olds 3 minute crying spell bothered you. I am even more sorry that you chose to grump and complain about it for 10 minutes after he stopped.

He was crying because I made him sit in his stroller as time out for misbehaving. I am not going to risk teaching my son discipline because his quiet crying bothers you. Trust me, in the long run we'll all be happier for it.

On the other hand, I chose to keep my displeasure of you cursing to myself out of respect for your age. Your copious usage of h*ll, d@mn, sh!t, and even the big f bomb was shocking. Thankfully, my children were too busy doing their school work to pay you too much attention. And they were unaware of your wrath.

They just thought you were crazy and felt sorry for you.

It's all good

My van is fixed and is parks like sweet dream.
It took an extra day since transmission cables aren't an "in Stock" item. So we rented a van for cheap and went along on our merry little ways.
Today I picked up the blue whale. I'm now $250 poorer (including the cost of the rental) and my blue baby is parked in the driveway.
Oh yeah.

I did discover that I hate the new stow and go seat on the Chrysler T&C. Blech! Skinny, dinky, cheapy looking seats. When to old blue bus bites the big one and goes off to the great junk yard...down on Gordon Highway, I think I'll have to get a Honda Odyssey or something.

We had art today. The boys painted. The mamma's talked. It was all good.
Then the sky opened up and everybody freaked. Thankfully, it was one of those typical GA monsoons that flares up then high tails it away leaving a path of sogginess and humidity to rival the finest sauna.

We had sandwiches for dinner and I'm currently overhauling our homeschool support group's web page. It's a total re-do.
I'm a self taught MS Publisher chick and the self taught part is tough. Let's just say I make things harder than they should be.
I'm getting better though.

My van won't park and other small potatoes

That's right. It won't park. It'll do every other gear and sometimes I can get into park but I can't count on it. There's something wrong with the actual gear shifty thingy. That stick thing on the steering column. I don't think it's a transmission problem because it parks quite well when it does go into park.
By the way, I have discovered that "park" is a very important gear. I just didn't realize just how useful it was. So while I can still go places. I can't stay long.

So tomorrow, I will haul all the boys to my mom's while I hang out at the Chrysler place and work on cub scout plans while waiting for my van to regain its parking ability. I can't wait to explain that problem to the car-fix guys. No run of the mill basic auto problems for me. No sir-ree. I always have to go straight for the freaky deaky.
Those of you in the know should have a big clue as to why my van is no longer behaving itself. Yep...my hubby left for a series of trips today. He's on his way to Germany right now. Then next week is another trip and the week after that is yet another trip. Fate knows when these trips are planned and she pulls out her big problems just for the drama.

Oddly, I'm not even the least bit concerned about the traveling nor the van problems.
My issues are small potatoes compared to the people in Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama.
And I know one mom who would give everything she had just to have every last one of my problems.

She lost her 10 year old son to brain cancer today. A cancer he fought for half his short and precious life. She wrote: "Today at 3:21 pm C's journey here on earth ended as Jesus met him and took his broken body and healed it forever and carried him to heaven. His passing was peaceful and quick and his suffering has ended. I feel like a part of my soul is missing, but my heart knows he is at peace and that he is better off, even if I am not."

I can understand that emotion of relief and then the guilt of feeling that relief. I felt it when my Daddy finally ended his own great battle. It was almost a joyous feeling of "Oh, thank you God. He's finally stopped suffering." Immediately followed by the selfish pain of loss that feels as though someone has reached in and pulled out your heart.

As hard as it was for me to lose my father, I can't even imagine what I would do if I lost one of my children.
I look at my own son who is almost 10 and the concept is unfathomable.
It sure makes van problems seem insignificant.

So hug your precious gifts and be thankful to God for loaning you these souls to love and cherish. And pray for all those in the path of this storm.

You can come too, too, too

We took the Zoo to the zoo yesterday. Guess which kid isn't mine?
(Mouse over for the answer.)

I have been going to the Riverbanks Zoo since they opened in 1974. In fact a pair of Gibbons on the monkey island have been at the zoo since it opened its doors.
I've been looking at the same monkeys for 30 years. This zoo specializes in breeding endangered and threatened species. It doesn't look like some fancy Zoo but it does far more.
The zoo was a second home for me while I was in college at USC. As a biology major, I had several assignments that required a trip to the zoo and there was always Free Fridays for a little zoo fun for poor college kids.

But Riverbanks is never boring. There is always something new to see. Yesterday's trip held the following treats.

New baby Penguin

His head is too the right and burrowed into the towl. This baby Emporer Penguin is only one week old. He was on display at the bird care center. The day we visited was only his second day on display. He'll be out for another week and then the public won't be able to see him until he is 9 months old and joins the rest of the flock. Emporer Penguins get about 3 feet tall. This little guy was about 5 inches long.

Three Baby Tigers

These Siberian Tiger Cubs are three months old. They just came on display. They are triplets who were born to a second time mom. She was unabel to nurse her first cubs so they were hand fed. She is nursing these on her own so the family gets to stay together.
Their father was an orphaned cub who was found in Russia then hand reared and brought to America. New baby tigers with wild blood.

And finally....
the smiling goat

I don't know anything clever about the goat. I've just never seen a smiling goat before.
He just kept grinning at us. It was kind of wierd.

He's Dr. Doolittle

A is 4. From what I remember about 4 year olds, they are a bit odd at times.

Setting: my dining room where I can hear things going on in 5 different rooms.
A screams in Mock pain, "Yaaaaaaaaaaah"
"Mom, mom...Max tried to bite my bum."
Your bum?
"No...my fffffffuuum. See?"
Shows the me the thumb
He'd tried to bite your thumb?
"No. But he said Meooooooow. And that means, 'I'm going to bite your thumb'."


Then he tracks down poor Max in the kitchen where I hear him saying (the kid, not the cat) "What did you say Max? Are you hungry? Would you like a mouse?"

This is normal four-year-old behavior right? Lie to me if it isn't.

That Target commercial.

The backpack one that is a parody of Sir Mix-alot. I love that commercial. My guys dance their rears off when they hear that song. I have to embarrassedly admit that they knew the tune before the commercial ever aired because I sing that one. No, I don't actually sing *those* lyrics but that is my diaper changing song.
That one and a creative version of a Queen song in which I sing "Stink Bottom Boy."

You gotta stinky butt and I can not lie
Your other brothers can't deny.
When the little guy walks in, stinkin' up the place
and puts that rank thing in your face.


Oh Brothers...Brothers
Does the baby got a stinky butt? (Oh yeah)
Let's change it, change it
Change that stinky butt.

Oh yes, all kind of high brow entertainment here at the Zoo.
To my credit, A's favorite song of all time...even over "Who Let the Dogs Out" and "Itsy Bitsy Spider" is Wagner's "Ride of the Walkyres."

That's has got to give me some credit, right?

I'm sure the "Rod and Staff" publishers never meant for sentence like these.

Today was lesson 8 of Rod and Staff English 4.
J is loving it. Oh my goodness. I have raised a language nerd. He said he liked it better than the Easy Grammar that we used last year.
I thought he would balk at all the writing but instead he has welcomed it.

Today's lesson was on Noun Phrases. J was given a list of Noun Phrases that he had to use as the subject of sentences. I'm sure the sentences he came up with are not at all what the R&S people had in mind.

Miss Marilyn Foster was eaten by a wildebeest

Sister Elizabeth is very ugly and quite mean.

Brother John jumped in a lake.

See the entertainment I get each day. I couldn't make this stuff up.

Reason #43,675 to homeschool

Here's an actual blog post from a 14 year old girl.

ok i was lookin a my frends journals to see how there first week of school
went. but i realized that they hate 1 thing . ....HOMEWORK!!!! i dont blame
them! Ok my Math teacher gives us homework.. we had school ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLL week
she gives us homework on a FRIDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! its like dude? its
friday?so yea. and it takes like 15 min to do so its like if it takes that short
or time then y assign it? she doesnt make sense at all. She talks on and on and
on. and u kno wat i hear? blah blah blah blah BLAH! lol seroiusly its wat i
hear.but i will sit in class and watch her eue brows. wenever she talks 1
eyebrow ALWAYS goes up. seroiusly it does ive watched cuz its sooooo boring in
there. iu think its cuz its 7th hour and im ready to leave. i dunno. but its
rediculous. i dont like ne of my classes from after lunch.

Woo, hoooo....boy am I glad I have boys.

I showed this to my 9 year old son. His comments: She doesn't spell very well. She doesn't capitalize anything. When asked how old he thought the writer was...he answered "five." He added that she must not be paying attention in school. (Obviously. She's to preoccupied with eyebrow watching.)

He was also shocked at the 7th hour comment. 7 HOURS of school. That's beyond his comprehension. If we start by 10 am, we're done by 2:30 and that includes lunch. I guess homegirl would be shocked too.

The rush to not be four

"I'm almost 5."

That's what A told me. The boys who is "almost 5" just turned 4 at the end of June.

"When will I get to sleep on the top of a bunk bed?'

When you are 6, little man. That's the rules. It's even printed on the new bed.

"Oh, but what happens if I get stuck at 4?"

Stuck at four?
I can wish can't I?
How do I explain to a little boy who can't wait to be bigger, that I wish time could just slow down a bit. That I would take a few more hours in the day or a few more weeks in the year.

What I wouldn't give just to stop time for a while so I could enjoy these boys just as they are for just a little longer. To keep them 9, 6, 4, and 2 for just a while. Because I know that all too soon they'll be 29, 26, 24, and 22.
And though I will love those no-so-little men just as much, I'll mourn the loss of my little children. The funny things they say. The way they entertain each other with a couple of rolled up posters. The little boy hugs which are unlike any other gift on the earth.

Stuck at this very moment. Is it terrible to wish for such a thing?

Or course the boys will grow up. They'll become husbands and fathers.
Maybe one day, A will hold his own little four-year-old son who is wistfully wishing to be older. Maybe at that moment he will remember when he was four with the same wish. Maybe he will remember how I looked at him with tears welling up and said,

No, you won't get stuck at 4. You'll grow up and be a big like Daddy one day.

But don't grow up too soon.

And at that moment he will finally understand just how much I love him.

And as a public service announcement

For the people coming to visit to find out how to pronounce tilapia:
It's pronounced
Tuh-lah-pee-uh. Accent on the "la."

For all the folks looking for birthday cakes:
I can post some and my friend Jacqui can critique them. She's seem 'em in real life. I just have to dig out the pictures. I got my ideas from others online so I am happy to share the love.

For the person searching for help on a dishwasher leaking around the door:
Don't buy a new dishwasher form Sears.

For the person whose backspace key stopped working:
I'm sorry I laughed, but I thought that was funny. You haven't had a two year old playing around with your keyboard, have you?

For the people looking for high ankle sprain information:
Mine is still bothering me. It's been almost 4 months and nothing is helping. May yours heal better.

For those other people..you know who you are:
Eeeewwwww gross. You are nasty. Go to church. Confess you sins and get a normal life.
Blech!

to the other Sheila

Your fabric is on it's way. It shouldn't take long to get from OR to Washington State. It would take a lot longer to get here.

There's this other Sheila. Sometimes she buys things online. She has friends who forward funny jokes to her. She has a BIL who mails cute photos of his kids to her. She is in some dancing club and she quilts.

She also doesn't get a lot of her messages because she doesn't know her own email address. Instead, she gives out mine.

So I get the tracking emails with her order information and her address.
I get the funny jokes from her friends.
I get the photos from her BIL.
I also get the reminders of meetings for her dance club and quilting clubs.

It's kind of odd.

I've tried emailing the various groups/people who send out these messages to let them know that the "wrong" Sheila got the news. It hasn't helped. They still email me.

Now, I'm just living vicariously.

So Sheila...I don't know what you ordered. But whatever it is, it'll be there in 3 to 7 days. Have fun with it.

For everybody else, make sure you are giving people your own email address.
Don't give them mine

An odd thing about me.

I've noticed an odd thing about myself. I'm assuming it is a character flaw. It's not a pretty thing, that's for sure.

In any group of people there is usually this one person that everyone** thinks is the greatest, nicest, more knowledgeable, or hardest working person in the whole group.
Everyone just loves this person.

Inevitably, that person annoys me to death.
It's not that I feel threatened. I sure don't. I'm not envious beaus my life is good from where I see. I have no delusions of grandeur and I never expect any recognition, praise, or reward for anything I do. (I do things to get them done. Not to make other people proud of me.) But yet, in every group...real world or online...there is this one beloved person that I just can not understand why this person is so highly revered.

I go through stages of annoyance too.

Stage 1: Who is this person?
Stage 2: ok, everyone else likes her. I should like her too.
Stage 3: I do not like this person, what's wrong with me?
Stage 4: I still don't like this person, what's wrong with everybody else?
Stage 5: Ignore your annoyance and feign a smile when she's a round.
Stage 6: Just ignore her.

Strange.

Then I have to wonder. Does anyone feel this way about me? I am busy in quite a few activities but I like to think that I'm more of a stealth volunteer and not a chick out to run the show. When I offer what measly advice I have, I hope I seem like a mom who has walked that path with some failure and some success and not a big ol' know-it-all who just can't keep her lips shut.

hmmmm......

Of course this has nothing to do with the current drama on the WTM board. I actually wrote this post back in July. It's just popped up again.

This is why I had guy friends in high school. I relate better to men.

**This is an assumed "everyone." Other people may be just as annoyed as I am and do a better job of hiding it.

An almost unbearable weight

The Anchoress writes about the Newsweek's glimpse of President bush with the War families.

And Trying to Grok points out something I haven't thought of.

I'm all for keeping out American noses out of everyone else business but I'm also for finishing a fight that someone else started.
We didn't start this fight but we need to be the ones who end it. If we don't, no one else will. And I say this as the wife of a Reserves officer who has a green light to be called up and deployed.

We need to bring our county back to the point of power where we can grin and say, "If you don't start no trouble, there won't be no trouble."

Why ZooDad does not homeschool

Since ZooDad was home doing pre-trip to Maryland stuff, he watched the rest of the inhabitants while I took M to the Evil Public School for the first day of Speech therapy of the new school year. (By the way the 2 PS girls that was supposed to be there, never showed up. Their teacher forgot to send them. How's that for dedication to children with special needs.)

As I left, J started his math. ZooDad helped him.
When I got home 45 minutes later. J was still doing math and looking very frustrated.

Wouldn't you know it, the day I hand over the reigns is the day a totally new concept was introduced.

The instructions read: Write a subtraction sentence to determine the number for n and find that number
The example problem showed that there were 5 girls and some number (n) of boys on the bus. There were 12 children on the bus. How many were boys?

The example showed that you set up the problem like this:
5 + n = 12.
You could then change this to a subtraction sentence (because we have studied fact families) by writing it as 12 - 5= n and then just do the problem.

So what did ZooDad do?
He taught him to solve for an unknown quantity.

Yep. He told him to subtract 5 from each side to isolate the unknown reduce the answer.
The poor, 9-year-old boy was writing out this for each and every answer. 50 in all.
5 + n = 12
5 + n-5= 12-5
0+n=12-5
n=7

But he didn't know why this worked. He was confused and frustrated. ZooDad could explain the process but not the reason why. Or at least not on a 4th grade level.

So when I got home, I spent about 15 minutes with our balance, and unifex cubes showing how equations had to be equal and that as long as you added or took away an equal amount from both sides, the equation would stay balanced. We practiced finding out the unknown quantity in the balance bucket by comparing it to a known number on the other side and then subtracting them until it balanced.

Then I showed him the shortcut of just converting it to a subtraction sentence. (Which is what the book asked him to do in the first place.)

ZooDad said he thought that it seemed a bit difficult for 4th grade math.

Day 2 comes to a close

Unlike those seriously dedicated homeschoolers, we take of the whole summer. Yep, we just sit around like bumps on a log. As A say "We are the pirates that do nuffin'." (Chuckle...he even sings it that way.)

Yesterday, marked our official First Day of School!
Everything went fine but we never got around to art or history.

Today...we did it all. Yes siree. We just jump right in and hit the ground running. We won't stop until Christmas with a small slow down for Thanksgiving. Then we'll be done by the end of April and can veg out for another solid 3 months.

Here's what everyone did today:

J (age 9 and in 4th grade )

• one lesson in MCP math D including mental math and a multiplication review.
• lesson 2 from Rod and Staff English. I was reluctant to use this program but the boy is loving it. He is such a "do this, do this, do this, then do this" kind of kid that this text just fits him to a tee. I humbly admit that I should have switched to it last year.
• Spelling Workout D, lesson 14. Yesterday we did a pretest and did the worksheets. Today he alphabetized the words and wrote them in cursive. He has decent handwriting. I am impressed.
• One science lesson in Singapore Science. Today's was on reproduction in animals. We had a big discussion about animals that laid one egg at a time versus those that laid many eggs at one time. (For those not in the know...birds: one at a time. Fish, amphibians, reptiles...lots at one time.)
• Story of the world. We are starting over with M. He wasn't that involved when we began this and now he is interested. So here we are at the beginning of the Ancients. We're doing history every darn day. I plan to skip a lot of activities and focus on the extra reading instead. J loves the books and M is thrilled to color a coloring sheet. That way I cover both boys learning styles. I have the CD's from "Hold That Thought" to add to our coloring options.
• Read the first chapter of Where the Red Fern Grows , discussed it and the vocabulary and wrote a summary of the chapter. I got these guides from Garlic Press. They are wonderful beyond my humble means of description.
• Handwriting Without Tears Cursive: letter e in the 4th grade book.
• Latin: Reviewing chapter 1 in Latina Christiana I before moving on. We both need to relearn stuff.
• Geography from the Evan-Moore book Daily Geography this covers all that silly Social studies stuff on the ITBS test but without the silliness.
• Read for about 45 minutes from his Fun Reading book. He's currently reading The Capture from the Guardians from Ga'Hoole series.

M (age 6, in grade 1 but doing mostly 2nd grade )

• one lesson from MCP math B and four exra word problems.
• a lesson from Houghlin Mifflin English 2. We'll switch to Rod and Staff next year. M does well with a lot of planned activities.
• He did the two activity pages from Spelling Workout B. This is his first year for spelling. He's not sure if he likes it.
• one lesson from Singapore science. Today was grouping objects by characteristics.
• SOTW with older brother J
• Reading: the first Tommy book from Learning Page. I don't know if I like this series or not. I appreciate the worksheets but some are much harder than the reading level.
• HWT letter w and some fine motor practice skills: mazes, tracing scribbles, and pushing a magnet on a dry erase board to build up his hand strength. M has fine motor issues and a weak upper body.
• 2 lessons in MCP Plaid Phonics B. M is loving this one for sure. I'm glad I got it instead of Explode the Code.
• A lesson from Evan Moore Weekly Geography.
• 30 wall push-ups with Baby S shadowing him.
• Speech practice. r-controlled vowels
• 30 minutes reading and A to Z mystery

A ( age 4, Pre-K with developmental delays and apraxia of speech)

• half a lesson from MCP math K. We take this very slowly.
• one activity from Easy Does It-Apraxia
• speeh practice from therapy
• 2 brushing therapies
• 2 cut and paste activities
• a couple of games of sound Go Fish (Do you have any mmmmmmmmm's?)
• Read Katy No Pocket for Before Five in a Row.

Baby S (age 2 and no where near school ready)

• listened to Katy no Pocket
• drew lots of pictures
• cut paper in little bits
• drove his train all over his brother's books
• gave lots of hugs
• enjoyed a quiet morning TV show with no brothers to complain about the "baby" show
• played with unifex cubes
• broke two crayons

2 days down. 178 more to go.

In which Sheila goes from refilling ink cartridges to "Why I homeschool"

Have you seen that movie Being John Malkovich? If you thought that was odd, you should try being in my head. The ceilings are just as low and my hair is about as crazy.

This morning I was in the shower,thinking.
I noticed my left index finger was stained. Well, that happens every time I refill the ink cartridges on the upstairs printer. I'm too lazy to put the little plastic plug over the bottom opening so I just use my index finger. The ink washes off eventually and I couldn't care less about how my finger looks most days.

My black and purple finger (I had to refill 3 different cartridges.) reminded my that my finger looked the same way during my Organic Chemistry classes while I was in college.

I had to take Organic Chem lab as part of my credits. I would have taken it anyway since I am a big time science nerd.
In lab we had to do a series of reactions to determine an unknown material. This amounted to putting said unknown substance in a test tube, adding reagent, and noting the results. If a particulate formed, you'd have to pour off the liquid and then figure out what the two substances were...the liquid and the particulate.

I loved that stuff. But I was a bit lazy. I was supposed to use a rubber stopper on the test tube. Instead, I would just cover the top with my index finger and give it a quick shake.
This was not a safe practice since more often than not, the additive was some sort of acid. Eventually, my index finger developed a thin, black scab and then my fingerprint sort of peeled off.

No biggie in the grand scheme of things. My finger is fine and I got an A in both organic labs.

But the lack of fingerprint did cause trouble when I started my education practicum.
I was assigned to the C-STOP program at the state youth detainment center. I was thrilled...really. I love a challenge and these kids were challenges.
C-STOP is the Chronic Status Offenders Program. It's a short term (maximum 60 days) kid jail for chronic truants, probation breakers, and runaways. To volunteer to work at the center, I had to be fingerprinted.
When my left index fingerprint didn't show up...the Officer jokingly asked, "What did you do? Burn your fingerprint off with acid. Ha, ha, ha."

Ummmmmmmmm...yes actually. I did.
He gave me that crazy woman walking...watch out look and then seemed to keep a close eye out on me for the rest of the semester.

As a college student, C-STOP didn't bother me that much. These were some bad kids. But as an adult and parent looking back on the experience, I am just horrified.

I can't imagine any child being treated this way for such minor infractions. The children slept on thin mattresses on cinder block tables to elevate them. They had no privacy at all. The toilets had no doors. The shower stalls had no doors. The rooms had a door that stayed locked at night but had a large window to the hall. The lights were on 24 hours a day. They could not wear their own clothes and were not given uniforms. Instead they wore "state clothes" that were given to the state from charitable organizations. These were the clothes that would not sell in the thrift shops. They were out or style, ill-fiting, and humilating for 11 to 15 year old children. The most shocking thing was that there were children who had been there for over a month and their parents had never visited them.

Looking back, I think...Of course these kids acted so terrible. They were taken away from home and put in what I saw to be a worse situation then treated with no dignity at all. Then they got proof of what they had always felt...that their parents really didn't care about them.

Most of the kids I met said that they were dropping out as soon as they could. There was no sense in staying in school when they were so far behind that they could never catch up.

I wonder how they all turned out.

The beautiful, tall, black girl who was all smile even though her Mamma's boyfriend beat her until she felt she had to run away, repeatedly. She would put on her "state clothes" every Friday night and put on a variety show. It was hysterical. She had a light in her that should have mattered to someone.

The pretty, blonde girl who just wanted her mom to tell her that she was special. But since that never happened, she was so desperate for approval and love of any kind that she ran off with various older men, across state lines and ended up pregnant twice by 14.

The angry boy who glared at me each time he saw me. When I gave him an extra fudge round that I brought, he asked me what I wanted in return. I told him, just a smile. He crammed it in his mouth and grinned a chocolate grin. From then on, he would grin at me like a maniac until we both started laughing.

I wanted to do so much for those kids. In the end, all I could do was hang out with them on Saturdays while they waited to see if their parents were going to visit. And then try to cheer them up when they didn't show up.

I wish I knew how society failed them. How could parents care so little about these precious little people? Who let them down and who could help them?

When I started teaching, I wanted to save them all. But there is precious little one person can do in a 180 hours. I did what I could to make them feel intelligent and worthy of respect. But I know I didn't do nearly enough.

A few weeks ago, one of my former students was arrested and charged with home invasion and endangering a child. He was a handsome, smiling, quiet boy in 7th grade when I last saw him.
Now he's facing serious jail time.

I can't save those other children but I can do my best for the 4 lives I know I can change. I will not fail them.


This is why I should refrain from filling ink cartridges. I promise the shower wasn't really that long.

Conversations from our House

Scene: Sheila at the dining room table with the portable printer, printing out lesson plans for the impending "first day of school." ZooDad in the living room watching a movie after all the zoobys have gone to bed.
Sheila Looks up just in time to see a woman in a bikini on the TV screen.

Sheila: "What are you watching? Some scantily clad woman?"

ZooDad: "It's a James Bond movie."

Sheila: "And it is surprising to find an scantily clad woman in a James Bond movie? What are you doing looking at other half naked women?"
This is said in jest.

ZooDad: "This movie was made in 1962. 1962! This woman is as old as my mom now. Ewwww! Feel better now?"


Why yes I do, dear.

Note to self

It's a "new" school year.

Make sure you cover the following items found on the ITBS test. These are apparently holes in the boys' education.

1. Show them how to use a card catalog.
I don't know a library that still has this fine piece of furniture but apparently it is still an important skill. Also, go over the Dewey decimal system so the boys know that they can find a specific book instead of browsing though the stacks. (But what's the fun in that?)

2. Practice alphabetizing.
This must be a more useful skill than I realized. I guess we can practice by alphabetizing spelling words. If we write neatly, we'll call it handwriting practice.

3. Explain what guide words are.
Yes, the boys know how t use a dictionary, but the "terms" surrounding the massive book have been overlooked. I didn't know what they were either.

4. Bite the bullet and use the Rod and Staff grammar.
Worst case, I get a kid who hates diagramming but knows his parts of speech. There are worse things that could happen.

5. Figure out what equality sentences are and find out why my son has so much trouble with them when he aces all the other sections of the silly test. Once you figure them out...make the kid practice a few right before the test.

6. Keep reading.
Apparently, I'm doing that part just right.

7. Do more Latin.
It will help with vocabulary and logic.

8. Stop worrying about "Social Studies." It's too silly to worry about.

Since Dy is about to call out a search party

And Jacqui is sending "How are you doing?" emails.

As requested....
beep. be beep, beep, be beep, beep, beep....
NEWS FROM THE ZOO

The couch is in place. It is lovely and it does not sink when you sit in it. This is a good thing.
The moving guys scratched up my new tile when they took out the old couch. I refuse to let that bother me. It is a small thing to be fixed when we sell this house in the distant future or when some thing really bad happens to another tile.

I have a new dishwasher. The old one from Sears is gone, gone, gone. But they have yet to refund my money. If I have to show up in person...I will extract my pound of flesh from someone. (insert evil glare)

The new dishwasher is a Kitchen Aid and it is from Lowe's. The Lowe's people were fast, friendly and thoroughly satisfying. (Which has some dirty undertones that I'm not going to explore.)
This bad boy washes like a fiend. I'm not even using the Power scrub and my steel pots are too hot to handle. I mean that, I have to let the things cool for a good half hour.
ZooDad opens the dishwasher door periodically and man-speaks..."Stainless steel, baby."
I'm glad to have it. I was getting tired of planning meals around clean up time needed. Plus washing 16 plates, cups, and utensils a day is way more housework than I signed up for. (My heart goes out to the dishwasher-less. I don't know how you do it.)

We had an anniversary. As of the 30th ZooDad and I have been blissfully wed for 11 years. We spent the day installing the dishwasher. That is love! And since the 11th anniversary is steel, it totally works out.

Oh yeah...and I got a laptop for my birthday. It is a posh beast. 1 gig RAM and 100 gig memory. (shock....100 gigs. I remember when ONE gig was huge news.)I have a DVD burner on it. snicker .
It is total overkill for my needs but for ZooDad it is the equivalent of bagging the mighty mammoth and taking it home to the little women. Caveman grunt..."See, I bring you laptop. It good!"
I'm trying to get used to the keyboard and getting all my files transferred over. Of course, I have nothing I need on it. But I can play the Sims while I wait for the boys at therapy.
ZooDad has been informed that it is verboten to back up his laptop on mine. That's how my old computer got full of junk. I had back ups of back ups. This baby is mine and I change the desktop picture daily just to annoy ZooDad. LOL

What else?

MIL is having an upper endoscopy today. She's losing blood somewhere and that may be where. I'm waiting for news since she wouldn't let me take her today. Uncle N took her instead. She had to be there it 8:30. She's an hour and a half from me and the hospital is another hour from her. It wasn't the greatest plan logistically for me to take her but I could have swung it.
ZooDad had his upper endoscopy on Monday and was all kind of fun to be around. He thoroughly enjoys the meds and says the most hysterical things. I threatened to record our conversation for posterity. We're still waiting for results but everything should be fine as frog hair.

We have to buy a new bed. Baby S, who has just turned two, no longer wants to sleep in his crib.
Last night he climbed into his brother's bed. When I lifted him out he started yelling out, "But I a big boy. I a big boy!"
Heartbreaking. I guess it is time for a big boy bed.
I think I will be lost at the thought of not having the crib in the house. I've had a crib around or almost 10 years. He's also showing sign of potty training...but I relish passing that little torch. I've been changing diaper since January, 1994 with no break.

The PS kids started back to school here yesterday. I got my normal, "Am I doing a disservice to my boys?" thoughts. Then I looked up the bus routes and I found that the oldest two would have to board the bus at 7:40 and would get off the bus at 4:20.
The two hours of wasted bus time is half our normal school day.
(scoff)
I think we can use that time a little bit better.


So there you are. All the news that's fit to type.
More later.

Beep,...be, beep, beep...be, beep, beep, beep