Another Little Adventure

A funny thing happened today. I told my little punkin after I picked him up from kindergarten that we were going to have an adventure, but I just meant running some errands after lunch. ( I needed to get the closing documents for my house sent back to the realtor so I could have that albatross off my neck.) Maybe the nice people at the bank would give him a lollipop, that sort of thing. Nice easy stuff. Huh.

What I did NOT mean was that I would have a pseudo-heart attack at the kitchen table and get nothing done but have a lot of wires and monitors strapped to my body all day. And as nice as they are at the local hospital, I could have done without seeing its ER again for a LONG time.

Fortunately, this time, my folks were home and I could get help pretty quickly. I'm gonna have to strap a cell phone to myself, I swear, for those times I can't walk. Life is so exciting, isn't it?

The really great thing about all this was my lovely friends and neighbors swooping in to help. Living in such a small, tight-knit community, it was impossible for anyone to overlook the arrival of an ambulance at our door. I think our dear friend who shares my initials was at the house to see if she could take the kids off my hands before the last paramedic walked in. What a relief!

So after all the tests and x-rays and stuff, the doctor still didn't know what had happened with my heart. He suggested that since I was still lightheaded and weak, I might stay overnight for observation. Um, nope, gotta take off and find a notary and get these papers to Colorado. Thanks anyway. He took the next best option: wiring me to a portable monitor for 24 hours. Ooh, yay!

Again, not exactly what I had planned, but I'm sure some good will come of it. Sigh.

Scholar Mom

I just need to brag for a minute:

Punkin Boy got Student of the Month his very first month in school!

That's gotta be a record or something.

Now back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Mixed Blessings

Ha, what was I thinking? The migraine's on day 11, with a dollop of sinus pressure thrown in. We were supposed to go to marriage counseling again tonight, and again we have no sitter and I'm sick. The kids are well now, though, so I sent TM by himself. We'll see if he actually tells the counselor anything pertinent (like what we were fighting about last night, for instance). Or, rather, I'll never know. Sigh.

But there are other things to care about. Last night, my little sis and her family stopped by on their way back from house-hunting in the Midwest. (They caught a beauty, too!) Within an hour of their arrival at our house, before I could even get some dinner into them, Little Cat had taken a nose-dive off my boys' pirate bed and broken her tiny little arm. It didn't seem like it was that bad at first, and really it could have been a lot worse. Fortunately for Little Cat, her daddy's a vet-in-training, so he had control of the situation right away.

I still felt horrible. The poor little thing cried for hours even after getting the splint and sling on. Even after they got some of the codeine into her. Even after she should have long since exhausted all her energy and her voice. She was so frustrated that she couldn't use her right hand-- especially to suck her thumb for comfort. Sigh. I don't think either of her parents got a wink of sleep all night in our freezing-cold basement (because of course it snowed again).

I sound like such a whiner. I really am glad it wasn't worse, and that we were able to get her some medical care and medicine before everything closed for the night. Mama Cat just called to say they got home safely, which I'm very thankful for. More later, when the blue spots go away...

Midnight Musings

Yes, I am still here. This time of year is always mentally draining for me. I usually stop and review where I've been, where I am and generally whether I'm on the right path.

This past year of course was... hard. Extra hard. And the news from last time didn't help. It represented a little bell ringing from my past life. And a nagging fear that I should have been there. I shouldn't have given up my old career in favor of my family. I could have helped. I should have... maybe.

But then I remember things like the recent escape of a dangerous criminal from a hospital in my former town back east. Apparently it's not uncommon there these days. And there was the sniper a few years ago, same area.

I really thought I had resolved all these second thoughts after 9/11. Eventually. It was another case of "I should have been there... I could have been there..." Then of course, I realized that if I had been there, I could have been dead.

So let's say we're OK where we are. At least I'm alive to be impoverished, crippled and unemployed. And I have some awesome people in my life. And who knows, maybe things will be OK after all.

More later.

Happy Family

I can't even begin to express how wonderfully things have changed for our family lately. The love just between The Man and the kids is awesome to see.

And the smiles! I love the smiles! So happy. I'm so happy.

Oh Happy Day

Yes, the oldest boy is back, and yes, the younger boys are delirious with joy. Pirate Boy is doubly happy because he has started second grade and loves his teacher, his class, his curriculum AND the fact that he's been placed in third-grade math. So proud of himself! (OK, I'm proud of him, too.) I'm a little surprised that he's not in third-grade something else, but they do have a lot of really smart kids to deal with. Punkin is feeling ambivalent; he's glad #1 Son is back, he's sad that his brothers go off to school without him now, and he feels pretty OK about having Mama all to himself during the day. (Let me tell you, he'd much rather be in kindergarten!)

I'll tell you the best thing about this week, though. Within a half hour of his arrival home, #1 Son had finished telling us all about his exciting trip to China and his new sister and their trip to Nebraska and the Weird Al concert and everything. Now he was somehow surrounded by his younger brothers laughing and talking and clamoring for his attention. Dinner was on the table, everybody was busy. Suddenly, I heard our boy give such a laugh of delight it warmed my heart. "I'm SO GLAD to be home!" he crowed. We're so glad to have him.

I Can't Believe It

I just cannot believe it. Actually, this could have begun the post I was tempted to write last night, which would have been a long whiny rant about how if I hadn't been so darned responsible as to double-check at the last minute, I wouldn't have even known that I was supposed to report for jury duty this morning. And how I'd forgotten when I postponed it originally (it was supposed to be during my family reunion last week) that today was my deadline as well as smack-dab in the middle of Migraine Week. And how I was going to lose out on about $100, which my family could ill afford at this time. And don't get me started about "What am I supposed to do with my kids all day?" That was a good whine.

But guess what? I went to jury duty, the kids went to work with dad, they had a great time, I got dismissed right away, we got home for lunch and a nap, I finished my articles in plenty of time (for the first time ever) and have actually been working on other people's! Punkin Boy fell asleep early, so bedtime was very quiet, and Pirate Boy promises to sleep till noon tomorrow. (Don't you believe it; but it's very nice of him.)

Whew! I am not staying up past midnight tonight. Must get rid of the puffy eyes from crying my self-pitying loser self to sleep last night. And I'll probably have no work at all to do tomorrow. Can you believe how sweet life is?

Times Are a-Changin'

This weekend, my little Punkin Boy gave a talk in church for the first time. Yes, he is 4 years old, and yes, that's probably weird in any culture other than the one I belong to. It's just what we do. With most people, I think it helps them become better public speakers over the years, so generally, it's a good thing.

TM and I went to watch him. For those who are unaware, during the second hour of our Sunday meetings, the kids ages 3 to 7 gather for "Sharing Time" and for another hour in individual classes. (The older kids do classes first.) Talks happen during "Sharing Time."

I was really nervous for him. I still remember my first talk when I was 4. I had prepared a really good talk (I thought) on the story of Jonah. I wrote it all out and was ready (though a little scared) to give it when the time came. But I guess I was a little too timid. My voice apparently didn't carry to the back of the room, and some kids commented on it. The nice lady who was in charge thought my talk was so good (so the story goes) that she felt everyone should hear it. But since my voice was too quiet, she took my notes out of my hand and read them again.

I was so humiliated I wanted to die-- not just then, but every time anyone has ever asked me to give a talk in church since then. I have had to rudely run away or hang up on people once or twice without explaining because I felt that I must throw up right now. How embarrassing. You'd think I'd get over it, especially after all these years and all those speech classes. But no.

I sat there at the back of the room, clutching my husband's hand and trying to smile instead of panic on behalf of my baby. I realized that nowadays there are microphones at the podium so that nobody has to go through what I did. (Of course it was all about me.) And Punkin Boy stepped right up to the microphone and started to read out his talk (on Ephesians Ch. 6) just as bold as you please.

But then it hit me: someone had turned off the microphone earlier and hadn't turned it back on! I panicked. I trembled in my seat. I wanted to cry or yell at someone, "Don't do this to my baby!" I was terrified and could just about see the whole scenario repeating itself. Then one of the "nice ladies in charge" got up-- my life flashed before my eyes-- and turned the microphone back on.

Whew! Punkin Boy had another couple sentences to go and hadn't noticed a thing. He finished reading, nodded to the audience, and went back to his seat smiling proudly. I could hardly keep back the tears. "Good job, baby," I whispered, and he ran to me and climbed on my lap for a hug. Crisis averted. Happy times.

Easy Come, Easy Go

Yesterday, I was disappointed (to say the least) to learn that the contract for my second job fell through, so I won't be working that one after all. At least this time. They'll try again later. Sigh. I figured it must have been for the best, since I'm struggling just to get my minimum articles done now that the kids are home from school. "I guess I couldn't handle another job," I told myself.

Then this afternoon, the writing project boss called me up and asked, "Are you an editor? Would you like to be an editor for us?" Sweet! Yes and yes, I said. Apparently, the editing is easier and way faster than the writing (go figure), so the editors make pretty decent money. Awwriiighht!

Meanwhile, The Man (TM) is still working 2 jobs, one of which has him for, what, 14 hours just today. That makes my full-time job as a mom a lot more tiring. (Still could be worse--I'm not really a single parent, I keep reminding myself!)

I'm just about recovered from last weekend, with the visit of 8 of my wonderful relatives (including 2 of the cutest nieces anyone's ever had). And it turns out TM's parents will be arriving for a visit either tonight or tomorrow, depending on how fast Dad decides to drive. Whee!

Anybody got a spare nap on them?

WooHOO!

I got a job offer today! It would pay a lot more than I'm making now and be part time work from home. I told them heck yeah, I'm interested. Bring it on!

Materi i Deti

(For those of you who don't know, that's a pun on a famous Russian story; it's probably too obscure for everyone except Kory, but I needed to do it.)

Tomorrow (oh wait, it's today) is Punkin Boy's birthday. I love that it falls close to Mother's Day; I did that on purpose. This weekend we've got big plans for our big 4-year-old. The Man (TM) has to work in the evening and #1 Son had to go to Hell of course, but we're going to make it fun anyway.

I've already exchanged greetings from some of my friends and relations, including this little item from a former coworker who was like a mother to me:

...
This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home -- or even away at college. This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them. This is for all the step-mothers who raised another woman's child or children, and gave their time, attention, and love-- sometimes totally unappreciated! ((Sometimes??))
...
For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and the mothers of those who did the shooting. For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely. This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.

What makes a good Mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it in her heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time? The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. To put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?

The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. When you just want to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in your home? Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?

And then there was this, which I happened across just as I was about to log off tonight. A little girl who was born on the same day as Punkin Boy is NOT having a good birthday. And as for her parents... my heart aches for all of them. Keep them in your prayers, OK? Thanks.

I Just Want to Say

I love the smell of lilacs in the morning! (And every other time of day.)

Not too fond of having migraines every day, or of having multiple periods a month.

I guess I take the good with the bad.

More Goodness

Just wanted to share some more loveliness that has come our way. First, The Man (TM) got that other job at school (Web development) and was offered another one at the library. How nice to feel able to turn stuff down!

Also, that haircutting school called the other day to ask if anyone at our house wanted a free haircut this week. *waves arm in air, shouting "I do! I do!"* Totally. So today, Pirate Boy and I spent an hour getting our locks lopped. Yes, an entire hour. We have kind of a lot of hair, as every stylist who's worked on us has to remark. Oh, what a relief not to have 80 pounds of hair dragging down my back anymore!

The most wonderful thing so far this week is (fanfare, please): my lilac bushes are blooming for the first time since I planted them! Yes, they are older than Punkin Boy. Yes, they were blooming when I planted them. No, I don't know what their problem was. But they're beautiful now, and I am so going out there and cutting some tomorrow.

Oh, yes, and my kids didn't make my breakfast today. What? Yes, that is a good thing. See, they usually pour the milk and then forget to wake me up... (It must be good, I wolf it down so fast, right?) I love those little monkeys.

Little By Little, We're Getting There

I haven't been around much lately because The Man (TM) has been gone a lot. The good news is that he's been working. Yes, as in at a job. He can't believe his luck to be chosen as a professional A/V geek for his school. OK, it doesn't pay hugely and it's not full-time, but it's a long-term income, and that's a major thing we've been lacking for, oh, the last 19 months or so. Yay, money!

With the kids home from school the past several days, I've had my hands full, and with TM gone so much, it's been kind of a challenge to survive each day. But I'm managing, which is only attributable to the power of prayer; I couldn't do it alone. Now TM is interviewing for a Web programmer job (also for the school), which also won't pay much but will give him experience, and with graduation only a year away (we HOPE), that will be key.

OK, now here's the news I've been brimming over with: I got a contract as a freelance writer, starting immediately! They're even going to pay me for my "audition" piece. Sweet! (Such a relief-- I was beginning to think I'd never work again, after several months without a contract.)

And best news of all, we got our date: May 26 at 3 in the afternoon, we become an eternal family. Go us!

Mysterious Ways

I just want to share with you the latest evidence I have that God knows everything and loves each of us. Sometimes I have a hard time remembering that, especially that last part. The problem is that I don't know everything, at least not ahead of time. Well, today I learned something. Let me tell you a story.

The Man (TM) and I have been trying for several months to get things together for a special, important event that we were hoping would happen this weekend. The kids have a long weekend, it's between semesters for my brothers-in-law and before finals for TM... and it's late enough in the season that the weather should have been perfect for driving through the mountains. It was just the right time to have our--well, our second wedding. For all we knew, it was.

But things kept getting in the way. People who should have been helping us kept... forgetting or something. Nobody could do this or that, and pretty soon it was just too late. We'd have to wait a few weeks. Well, it was disappointing. I cried and I fumed. It wasn't supposed to be like this. See how mature I am. Pooh.

But this morning at 6:15 when the radio alarm went off and the weather announcer said the words "avalanche danger in the mountains," I suddenly understood. And I'm so grateful that my will isn't always the one done. Oh, I have so far to go.

Things You Don't Want to Hear...

...your hairstylist say:

"Woohoo! My third haircut!"

Actually, it wasn't too bad. And it wasn't my hair; it was Punkin Boy's. He hadn't had a hair cut since Labor Day and looked like a pretty little red-haired girl. We took him this week to get it cut at a local haircutting school. (Free haircuts are hard to turn down in our circumstances.) Fortunately, the schoolmarm came around to check the guy's work and trimmed the rough edges up. And Punkin is very pleased to be able to see now.

"I needed to do a long-hair style!"

This was from the stylist who worked on The Man's hair. He hadn't had a trim for just as long and was very shaggy. We were hoping to get him looking a little more clean-cut, but that was not to be. (Apparently, beggars can in fact not be choosers in this situation.) His first comment when we walked out of the salon (actually, the kids and I were kicked out earlier for being distracting; beggars can also be abused at will) had to do with Alan Rickman in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, so you can figure for yourself how long it still is. Sigh. Still, I'm thankful for free haircuts. And I hope someday to have a different kind.

I Just Want to Say

I love my family. I especially want to say how much I love and appreciate and admire my parents. They not only raised us 4 kids under somewhat trying conditions and over 30 years, they've not only been through some serious hell because of what certain of their children did, but they keep at it. They keep parenting, and not just grandparenting.

Don't get me wrong, I love their grandparenting-- I wish they got to do more of it close up, but retirement's right around the corner. Punkin Boy got to talk to my mom this week; it was so great to watch and listen to. She went from "OK, I've got to get back to work now" (don't think she goofs off at the office; this was her lunch hour!) to "Ooh, I get to talk to my grandbaby!" in 0.6 seconds. Totally cute.

/aside
Anyway, I've been really appreciating my folks lately. They don't push or interfere, but they do kind, considerate things in gentle, loving ways. My dad sends me news articles he thinks I'll find interesting and asks my opinion on international issues; with The Man (TM), he discusses computer tech and new gadgets; with Little Sis's husband, it's all about fishing and the outdoors. Among other things, my mom sends ideas for family nights and makes sure we have the church resources we need. (And the financial resources; thanks so much, Mother.)

One recent email of hers was addressed: "To my daughters." I was touched to see on it the email addresses of not only me and my little sisters (her daughters by blood) or even us and my brother's current wife (a daughter by marriage), but also the address of my brother's former wife, whom I love more than life itself, or at least more than Rocky Road ice cream. This little reminder brought tears to my eyes as I thought of what most people would do once their former in-law remarries and moves on in life.

I also reflect on how differently many of those in-laws would treat the former spouse's family. But that sister of mine has taken a page (actually, several chapters) out of the book of Ruth. In her interactions with our family, her obvious and deep respect for my parents echo with the words: "Intreat me not to leave thee... the Lord do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me." May she be just as blessed as that lady was. I know I am blessed to have her in my life.

Need a Break

Locked in battle with the forces of evil. Still. Expecting a court summons any day. Our pediatrician has recommended medication that might help #1 Son concentrate better and do better in school. The Evil One of course is having fits about it. The Man (TM) must be lying; the doctor must be insane; we're just doing this to cause trouble for her (I don't know how); she is opposed to all medication for the boy; an acquaintance of hers says of course #1 Son doesn't have ADD or ADHD and so doesn't need medication; we need to let him come live with her because we can't take care of him, etc., etc., ditto ditto... She says we just need to change his diet to a low-carb/high protein thing. (Oh, like the one we had him on last year in hopes of fixing this very problem-- the one you insisted he didn't need to be on as soon as he went to your house for his summer break? That diet? Sure, yeah. As soon as it's your idea, you like it.)

Have no money still, but may have fixed the problem with the overdraft. Well, as soon as the check arrives on the east coast. Will need enough money to pay for our car in less than a week, but unless the IRS is really fast, that's not happening. The VA is 2 months behind on its G.I. Bill payments, and who cares? Well, besides us. They don't seem to. It would surely help if they got caught up.

Well, our house is still mostly clean, anyway, despite the best efforts of our two youngest kids. (Did you really, truly have to use the bathroom trash can as a toilet? Did you? No, I thought not.) And we've embarked upon spring break, so maybe there'll be some rest for the weary along the way. I'll keep you posted.

Opposition in All Things

Whew, I feel wrung out. Those who are a bit familiar with the ongoing dramas in our life might think that every now and again I'd look at what we've been through recently and think Wow, how did we get through that? It'd only make sense. Except what I really do is look back on the past month or so and think, Ha! I thought that challenge was hard!

I was having that thought just a few days ago and remarked to someone that whenever I read my journal, I have to laugh at what I thought was a rough patch, 'cause this, now this that I'm going through is tough. Ha! Fortunately, the blessings are compensatory.

Let me tell you about my week. Sunday morning I got up to get breakfast for the kids and noticed that there was water leaking from our freezer. OK, not a good sign. I pulled open the fridge and discovered that someone (probably under 5 feet tall) had turned the controls all the way to zero-- that is, turned our fridge and freezer off. I investigated further and realized that it had probably been done the night before. And there we were, a week's worth of groceries, gone just like that: POOF. Remember last year when I was bummed about having the milk go bad a couple days before we could get more? Ha! And last year, we could afford to replace a gallon of milk.

But in opposition to this trial, our lovely church leaders got together and bought us all new food, even more than we'd had before. But wait, there's more!

This morning, Punkin Boy was complaining of a pain in his leg and cried when he tried to walk. The Man (TM) had woken up late and had 15 minutes to get everyone out the door to school. After he left, I was worrying about how I would get Punkin Boy to the doctor if his leg got any worse, when a sweet sister from church called up and asked if it would be OK if she and a couple of others came over and cleaned my house for me. I asked if she'd be able to drive us to the doctor-- of course, she said. My house is now cleaner than it's been in 2 years. I feel so good about that, and Punkin Boy was up running around by lunchtime. Whew.

Now we've got this other thing. In today's mail, we got an overdraft notice; TM's credit card payment came from an account that couldn't afford it. The bank is in another state, so even if we had any money, we couldn't get it there quickly. Once again, I'm having to look for a miracle. But I think I've figured out the lesson I'm supposed to be learning from this particular phase of my mortal experience: Don't put my trust in the arm of flesh. Just when you think you know it all...

Then and Now, Part 2

Man, that list looks nothing like I wanted it to. Reason #1 should have been on the list: my brain has been eaten by Percocet. I used to be intelligent, but no more. Other things that should have been on the list but aren't:

• I used to have short curly hair; now it's long and straight because I can't afford an appointment with a hairdresser. (And here I'm including Fantastic Sam. Oy.)
• I used to be able to count on getting a shower every morning. Now, not really.
• I used to be able to get down on the floor and play with my kids. I don't remember the last time I could do that.
• I used to have daycare and occasional evening babysitting so that I could feel like a human being and even go out with my husband every so often. Now: no.
• I used to be able to drive. Heck, I'd been driving since 1984. Currently, my brain is permanently in a low-functioning state as if I'd been drinking alcohol. Only worse. No driving for me.
• I used to be able to buy things I didn't absolutely need. Like lunch meat, pickles, makeup, books, and presents for the kids.

On the other hand, my family is eating better than we did when I was the breadwinner. The welfare food is plain and simple, but a lot of it is very good, and I never got to have ham or roast beef while I was paying for it myself. Also, two years ago, I had no real hope that my family would be together forever. Now I do, even if I have to fight for it every inch of the way. And two years ago, I was fed up with the schools here and was desperate to move away. Now our older kids are in the best school in the state, and Punkin Boy is primed and ready to join them.

So it ain't all bad.