Freedom!

I am done! VBS is over. My dad's retirement party was a success. And we made it through the birthday party for my grandmother, and she handled the surprise fairly well. I fully intend on crashing for the next couple of days and keeping my schedule at an absolute minimum. In fact, I don't even want to hear my phone ring until after 10 a.m. tomorrow. My kids and I need a day to sleep in without having to rush out the door to go anywhere. The only thing that may push me out the door eventually is that I think a cut on one of my toes is infected, so if my treatments today don't prove to be effective I may have to go to the doctor tomorrow. But for now, it is 5:24 on Sunday evening, and I am already in pajamas. I am that exhausted.

Not Quite Barney

Tonight I had to run a couple of errands, and left the children in my husband's charge. Apparently, during my absence, my youngest found a purple marker. I think you can all imagine the result. Shortly, after my return home I see my youngest dart by me, with brightly striped purple legs. I turned to my husband, "Um, did you just see our child?" Typical response, "No, why?" I called my youngest back, and pointed to the offending appendages. "Notice anything?" Husbandly answer, "Huh. I wonder when that happened." I wonder. I marched my youngest to the bathroom, and began to scrub the stripes away. I wasn't angry, but curious, so I asked, "Honey, why exactly did you mark all over your legs?" Innocently, my youngest said, "I wanted to look like a dinosaur." Not acquainted with many dinosaurs with stripes on the legs, and purple no less, I said, "Really. And purple stripes make you look dinosaur-like?" "Oh yes Mommy! I love purple-striped dinosaurs!" Well, who doesn't?

The NEIGHBORHOOD Mascot Is Dead...Apparently

Today has been a day! My dog is sick again. And I won't dwell on the specifics of that, but I did take him to the vet today, and they ran a few tests and now need to run a few more because one of the tests came back with abnormalities. After cleaning up evidence of his sickness, I had to get ready to take him to the vet. I was in my car backing out of my driveway, and my neighbor begins to wave me down. I stop, put down my window, and said a tentative "hello". He walked up and said "your kids left a string in my yard the other day". He pauses, and I wait, because what exactly am I SUPPOSED to say to that. Clearly he deemed this a criminal offense, but really the big deal was lost on me at this point. He continues to say "A bird got caught in it, and then my dog attacked the bird and killed it. My wife called me at work hysterical and screaming. At first I thought it was probably just a robin, but it turns out it was a woodpecker." Not sure what he wanted from me, I looked down at his dog, now next to my car, and say, "Shame on you for attacking poor defenseless little birds." My neighbor proceeds again, "As I said, it wasn't a robin, but it was one of our "NEIGHBORHOOD" woodpeckers." Strong emphasis on the word neighborhood. He paused again, and looked at me expectantly. Apparently, it would have been all right for a robin to die but not a woodpecker. At this point, I was getting annoyed. I wanted to say, "Are you serious? You are stopping me for this? A dead bird?" Sure my kids probably shouldn't have left a string in his yard, which I had no part of because my husband took them over there the other day without me, but if he wanted me to burst into tears over our "neighborhood" woodpecker's demise he was going to be waiting for a cold day in *@!* . I said, "Well, I guess that is one less bird to make noise around here." Then smiled as sweetly as I could, which probably wasn't very sweet at all. Did he want me to apologize? For the string? For him having to deal with a hysterical wife? For one less woodpecker in the world? Instead I said, "Well I have to be going, my dog is sick, and he has an appointment at the vet." Today I just wasn't in the mood to feel sorry over a bird, I was too busy feeling sorry for myself.

Give Me A Drink!

For my husband's graduation party we bought some beers and wine coolers, something we do not normally keep on hand around the house. As a special treat my husband purchased Smirnoff Ice Raspberry Burst for me, and I have to say, I am hooked. Every night since his party I have had one before bed. During this week of stress, they have aided in relaxing me so that I can get some sleep. So tonight, I needed to get some milk at the grocery store, and then I walked by the area of alcoholic beverages. I rationalized that they were too expensive, and I walked right on by them. I got 10 feet and then turned around and picked up the 6 pack, then I put it back down. Such a quandary! Then I picked it up again. I decided that since I am not through the stressful times yet, I figured I deserved a little more help in the relaxation department. As I unloaded at the register, the man in front of me turned out to be someone that knew my parents. As he was getting ready to leave he told me to relay a message to them. Meanwhile, the cashier looked perplexed. She kept studying me, and then the alcohol. Finally, she said. I am sorry, but I need to see your ID, I am not sure you are eligible to buy this. The man that was leaving thought he would be helpful and said, "I can vouch for her. She is DEFINITELY old enough to buy that. She even has kids." He gave me a helpful smile, and I shuddered internally. The cashier said that she wanted to see my ID just the same. So, I pulled it out, and when she saw the year she exclaimed, "Wow! You don't look THAT old." Sigh. I guess I am glad I LOOK young, but it seems that my actual age means that I am "old".

Certified Pessimist

Today we had a notice in our mailbox that we have a certified letter waiting for us at the post office. Does a certified letter EVER convey good news? I have only received maybe two in my entire life, and neither one has been pleasant. The fact that the letter has arrived from the same city that our rental house resides in, is further confirmation that it probably isn't anything that I want to hear. I told my husband that he is in charge of retrieving it; besides, it is made out to him. In addition, I loathe going to the post office with children. It doesn't matter if the line appears to be short, it never moves swiftly. By the time I make it to the counter my humor is sorely tested, so whatever I am receiving had better be worth the wait. This certified letter holds little promise of that, so I am boycotting the trip. At this point, I really don't think I can handle anymore stress. My mind automatically thinks of the worst thing that letter can contain, and unfortunately, until I see differently, I can't make myself believe it reads otherwise. I found a quote not to long ago that fits my perspective perfectly. "The nice part about being a pessimist is that you are constantly being either proven right or pleasantly surprised." I hope tomorrow's letter reveals the latter, but I doubt it.

On the Brink of Insanity

We had a wonderfully crazy weekend. My husband graduated from his Master's program, my eldest had two final rehearsals and a dance recital, my youngest had a raging fever, my dog was puking and pooping his guts out - mostly inside my house, I could barely walk because I had severe back pain, and in the midst of this we also threw a party. Even with all of the chaos, it was a pretty good weekend. But if you think my stress level has had the opportunity to return to normal, that is a fairly invalid assumption. This morning I took my youngest to the doctor, the white pus on the throat again, meant I needed to rule out strep. It is viral. So, there is nothing we can do for it. My children are beyond exhausted and are grumpy and emotional. The fighting and the crying, the agony! Our rental house, hasn't had renters for almost three months, and the company that has been managing it has been less than aggressive about finding renters OR getting on the ball about selling it. We have been trying to engage them for a month regarding selling the house. The rental agency finally sent us numbers today that they believe would be reasonable for us to ask for it in a selling situation and basically their suggestions are $12,000 less than what we owe the bank for the house. VBS is next week, and while nearly all of our volunteers and helpers are FABULOUS, we have run into a huge hiccup today. We were told by someone at our church that we would not be able to use the gymnasium because there was simply no one equipped to run the new sound board. It was suggested that we use a different room, a much smaller, and basically inadequate space for the number of children we are expecting. We are in the process of trying to iron out the problem, but it creates a new level of stress, considering everything else that my co-director and I need to accomplish in the next week. That, and quite a few of our supplies that we ordered weeks ago, have not arrived from the local Christian bookstore. Honestly, I have quite a headache developing. There is only one thing for me to do, and that is to spend a little time ferreted away in my room tonight watching Pride and Prejudice. A little quality time with Mr. Darcy and I should at least be able to stave off total insanity.

Dog Speak

My family has an affinity for dogs. That should be no surprise to regular readers of my blog. But being "dog people" we tend to do silly things for our furriest family member. Quite often we impose our own thoughts on our dog, and infer that he must be thinking, what we think he is thinking. Confused yet? When we do this, we often have conversations with or for our dog. And use silly voices, as his "speaking" voice. Anyway, my eldest was telling a story about our dog, and said, "Brinkley said, "I have a girlfriend. I have a girlfriend." (She used her silly dog voice when saying what he said). My youngest was listening to the story and said in that condescending three year old tone, "Hey! Dogs don't talk. They woof!"

Disconnect

Yesterday I couldn't find my cell phone anywhere. The last time I had remembered using it, after being reminded when I had last used it, was Sunday afternoon. I looked all of the usual places. Called it, but to no avail. I couldn't hear it ringing. Assuming it had lost it's charge, I settled in for a long and arduous search. I even resorted to asking my three year old, because when things disappear around here the culprit is generally my little one. Without my cell phone I felt a little disconnected from the world, no pun intended. I searched all day with no luck. When my husband returned home from work, he complained that I had put some VBS paraphernalia on his desk, the only reason he noticed it I am sure, is because he had just recently cleaned his desk. Otherwise, my items could have sat their for days. Anyway, not wanting to hear any further complaints, I collected the things from his desk. For VBS I keep most of my supplies in a large barrel-like lidded tin. I opened it up, and looked down, and there of all places, was my cell phone. The really perplexing part is that as I retraced my steps Sunday afternoon, there was no earthly reason for me to lift the lid and put my phone inside. I hadn't deposited any VBS related items into the tin the day before. I guess, unconsciously, I needed a break from people on Sunday, and that was my way of getting it. Naturally the tin obscured the signal to my phone, and that is why I didn't hear it when I tried calling it on Monday. Anyway, I am re-connected today, and am hoping that sort of mindless behavior comes to an end. I have too much on my plate to do silly things like that right now.

Here Comes the Groom

Today I had to attend a Bridal Shower for my cousin's fiancee. I have to be completely honest, I was less than thrilled about attending. I have met the girl once, and since she entered the picture as his significant other, my cousin stopped attending church, and I haven't seen either one of them for the better part of a year. The women of the church decided out of kindness, really to my aunt, that they should throw a shower. I arrived with my grandmother and another aunt, a little before two, the time it was to start, and we waited, and waited. At 2:15 my aunt finally arrived looking very flustered. She stood to the side and talked to two people for 5 minutes before coming forward and announcing to the group of twenty women gathered that the bride would NOT be coming. In lieu of her presence, for an apparent "claimed" ailment, my male cousin would be arriving in her stead. He arrived a half hour late. While there were few games planned, I thought it would be fun to tell him we were going to be creating bridal gowns out of toilet paper, and since the bride was absent he would have to stand in for her. He actually took the news quite well, and was willing to do his part to make the shower a success. He was so amiable we decided to spare him. I had the honor of sitting next to my aunt, and was able to ask about the bride's alleged affliction. Something about my aunt's speech made me seriously doubt that my aunt believed the reason of absence. My aunt, was not ungracious enough to call her daughter-in-law to be a liar, but apparently this type of thing occurs often, whenever my aunt plans or is part of an event, the bride tends to beg off and produces a reason not to come. Naturally, my aunt is beginning to have doubts about the validity of these excuses. At any rate, it made for a fast shower once things got under way. Guys don't typically ooh and aah over Corningware and Pyrex. He did his part, thanked people appropriately, and was overall a good sport. I will be interested to see who actually writes the thank you notes. I am betting he does.

Maybe I Could Pass For A Teenager?

It has finally happened, I am going through puberty. In my thirties, I have had to resort to seeing a dermatologist for acne. Thankfully, it isn't on my face, at least not most of it, but I have NEVER had acne like this. 4 weeks ago, I went for my first visit, I came home armed with a topical treatment and an oral treatment, and I was sure my acne would disappear within days. Instead, the first medicine made me feel sick, and my acne got worse. So, I went back today...two weeks earlier than I was originally supposed too. I am now supplied with a new oral antibiotic, a new topical treatment, and I am supposed to do this for the next six weeks. This was the interim plan, to lead up to the big guns. Accutane. When the dermatologist first started talking about Accutane it was like a dream come true. 5 months of use, and there would be a 90% chance of NEVER having acne again. Then came the list of side effects. Dry skin, whatever, I can live with that. Dry lips, I really should use lip balm more often anyway. Could possibly raise my triglycerides, I have great cholesterol counts thus far. Not planning on having more children? Nope. Not a problem. Except after answering that question, I then had two fairly lengthy forms plopped into my lap to initial in at least twenty different places promising that I would not get pregnant. I have to agree to take an oral birth control, and in addition I would agree to using another method of birth control simultaneously. I would under no circumstances give blood while using Accutane because if a pregnant woman was given my blood it could cause serious birth defects in her child. I would agree to blood tests every 30 days to ensure that I was not pregnant. It also mentioned significant issues with depression, from mood swings to suicidal thoughts. If I experienced any of these symptoms I must notify the doctor immediately. If anyone in my family history was predisposed to depressive behavior I must notify my doctor. Disconcerting. Seriously, is getting rid of acne this important? Then I was given a manual, yes, an entire manual on said drug. As if that were not enough, I then had to be entered into a national registry, and wait 30 days before being allowed to take Accutane. After the thirty days and at least two negative pregnancy tests, I have to log into some magical website, and answer a list of questions prior to picking up my prescription. The pharmacy would then be notified that I had completed this, and would then release the drug to me. So, you can imagine by the time I reached this point in the process the idea of Accutane has lost the majority of its appeal. In fact by the time I arrived home the crap was officially scared out of me. To be completely honest, I don't think I am going to pursue the Accutane route in six weeks. If this interim step doesn't do the trick, I guess I will have to figure something else out. Anything that requires this much red tape really does become a concern.

Back to the Basics

Tonight I took the kids over to our friends' farm to work in their giant garden. We planted sweet potatoes, and watered cabbages, peppers, tomatoes, broccoli, and cauliflower. Well, my eldest and I watered them, my youngest tried to single-handedly drown every plant. Our friends were very sporting and simply tried to instruct my little one as to how much water was needed, but instead of telling my youngest simply to "stop" they would say words like "okay" or "whoa" and quite honestly I believe the meaning of "stop" was lost in translation. This is the first time my youngest has helped plant, so we were repeatedly admonishing, "don't step on anything green", but three year old exuberance is hard to contain, and I am sad to say a green pepper plant suffered from this aforementioned exuberance. We tried to replant the squashed little plant, but I will be surprised if it makes a recovery. We always have such a good time working in the garden, although I daresay, our friends could have finished the tasks at hand much quicker without our "help". But it is good for us to get out and do something like this. My husband was a little bit jealous, because he had to go to class tonight, instead of helping with the gardening. Only one more week and then he can put his time in at the garden as well.

Goodbyes

Well this past week has been a time of saying goodbye. With the passing of our friend's mother, we had a funeral to attend this week. It wasn't as somber as some funerals, since her mother was 92, and had been dealing with declining health for the last few years. In fact, the viewing was very laid back, and people were smiling, since we felt confident in her eternal home. The viewing was so "casual" that our friend suggested we bring our children over to the funeral home to view death from a non-traumatic standpoint. My husband and I talked it over, and decided to give it a try. Our three year old, was curious, and mostly unfazed. Our six year took it all in silently, and seemed relieved when we left. I don't think we made a bad choice. The funeral I attended by myself. I figured that was a little TOO much reality at this point.
Yesterday, we said our goodbyes to our Pastor and his family. They are moving to a new church in Michigan. We had them over for a farewell dinner. Initially, we thought they were going to be around church on and off for most of the month of June, but they announced last night that they had worked out some details, so now they would be leaving permanently on June 6th. I will miss having a Pastor that I like well enough to invite over for dinner.
This week is a new week, and one that I am hoping will not have any goodbyes in it, at least not ones that are more permanent than having a few days pass between seeing friends or family members. I just don't like saying goodbye.