Monday, March 29, 2010

Blue Trees, Anyone?

Or perhaps, pink?

Or would you maybe like songbirds on your stepping stones?

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Crisis 101

Actually, we've already had many crises...but I liked the title. So we should be pretty accustomed to them, but for some reason...I can't seem to adapt.

Crisis #1 Tuesday evening-Lucy has trouble breathing. I should be used to this, but it was just so different. She's had trouble breathing through her nose with allergic reactions, but this is only the second time she's had trouble breathing at all. And it didn't SEEM like an allergic reaction. No swelling, hives, itching....nothing.

And I didn't have a CAR! The moment I realized this, was when I truly panicked. Long story short, Lucy was terrified, as were Mommy and Iris....Clyde, not so much. I called 9-1-1 and waited impatiently for the ambulance. Of course, Stephen and my sister pulled in the same time as the ambulance (!).

Basically her breathing was so bad she COULDN'T wheeze. I am still very upset and she's worried that every allergic reaction is going to be like this.

She is fine now, but they aren't sure if it was an allergic reaction or an asthma attack (she's never been diagnosed with asthma). So we've got Dr appointments scheduled, lots of medications to take and we're monitoring her breathing for 2 weeks. It's been 4 days and for some reason I still feel like I'm just calming down.

Crisis #2 We are trying to turn the wilderness behind our house into a backyard. Stephen got a burning permit and was burning lots of wood/leaves today. (Our crisis does not involve fire...except how it got in the way) Since Stephen and I were busy hauling wood to the fire, the kids were moderately unsupervised. They had to stay where we could see them. And the law is, that Stephen cannot leave the fire. (He's pretty paranoid about putting his fires out anyway)

At one point, the fire is burning slowly and I bring the kids to the front yard while I rake. There is a man on his roof blowing leaves. My two girls start coughing like crazy. I start having trouble breathing. I peevishly look up at the man blowing leaves on his roof, thinking this is his fault.

Not 10 seconds later, the coughing escalates, I can hardly breathe and I hear Clyde say,"I shouldn't have done that." I am very ticked at the man on the roof by this point. I try to open the door to let my poor children away from the contaminated air.

The door is locked...I walk around the back with three coughing crying own lungs are driving me nuts. I'm scared to death that this is going to trigger an asthma attack in Clyde or Lucy. Stephen is still burning in the back and yells to see what's wrong. We can't answer except, "Can't breathe!"

Stephen is afraid to leave the fire, but comes to check on us. Clyde starts screaming in pain about his eyes. He says he can't see. (Stephen at this point thinks it's pollen...I'm starting to realize something else is afoot) Clyde is crying and screaming, "I shouldn't have done that, I won't ever do it again".


I put him in the shower to see if I can wash whatever it is out of his eyes. Stephen has gone outside to check on the fire. Lucy comes to me and says, "Momma it's really bad...I'm having trouble throat feels really funny." Iris is WAILING and pawing at throat and eyes. I am having serious problems speaking, myself. Clyde says, "It was orange spray!" I call Stephen's cell. He tells me to get everyone out of the house and upwind from it.

Remember, Clyde is in the tub.

I carry one large 6 year old boy whose wearing only a towel while running out of the house and up our hill. Two screaming girls follow. We all instantly feel better and sit down. Aaaahhh! Air!

Stephen runs up to meet us. We start interrogating Clyde. No, it wasn't a spray, it wasn't a can or cleaner. He only remembers that it was in the top drawer of a dresser in the garage.

Stephen holds his breath, runs into the garage and comes out with this....

Bear spray.

Pepper spray, highly concentrated for bears. Yes, folks, that's what it was.

Clyde had held it in front of his face and sprayed it straight up. I just thank God he missed his face and eyes some how!

So....though it was definitely not in our budget(!) we went out to eat while our house aired out.

While we were out....

Crisis # 3 Clyde choked, but finally threw up his food and is now okay.

We're back home with only a faint smell of pepper spray. We did find this evidence....

but Stephen washed it off. And now, I'm happy to report, that everyone is our home is breathing quite nicely.

Sorry for the long post, but .....THE END.

Monday, March 15, 2010

The Term "Sleep"over? ....really?

So I have this really great middle school small group. They're lovely girls. Since they are lovely, I had them over for a sleepover, but I don't know....I mean staying up till 4:30/ that really sleeping?

We decorated t-shirts.

Listened to eachother's favorite genres of music....even woops...I mean Beiber.

Watched Princess Bride! Yay! a few girls didn't like the torture machine...waz up with that? We also took this opportunity to put away 2 LARGE tubes of pillsbury dough cookies, 3 bags of chips, almost an entire box of popcorn and a partridge in a pear tree.

We played with the ferret.

Dressed up in my kids' dress up clothes.

And played Apples to apples (not pictured)

No sleep.

The end.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Mollee Interprets Spektor

So, almost a year ago I did a napster search on artists similar to Nickel Creek and Squirrel Nut Zippers. One of my results was Regina Spector. I pulled several of her songs without listening and put them on my mp3 player. One of them had these lyrics....

There's a meat market down the street
The boys and girls watch each other eat
The boys and the girls watch each other eat
When they really just wanna watch each other

It's a strange song, but very catchy and I kept it. It drove Stephen crazy.

Then the kids started asking about it. ALOT. They were obsessed with this song. Hearing Iris sing it perpetually had me worried. What does this song mean??? It sounds a little inappropriate don't you think? Especially for a 3 year old to be singing. I couldn't answer their questions, because the only interpretations I could come up with weren't good. So I just stuck with the literal.

"Kids, it just means they watch eachother eat, but want to watch eachother sleep."

"But WHY, mom?" And what does it really mean?"

With Iris singing it all the time everywhere we went and my older two peppering me with questions, I just deleted the song. I mean...I'm so brain frazzled anymore I don't think even semi-deeply like I did back in high school and college. I don't even want to consider doing poetry interpretation anymore.

Anyway, I digress....You can delete a song from your music player, but not from your kids heads. Apparently this song has been rolling around in Lucy's mind driving her crazy.

My friend Gretchen watched my kids for me the other day and then brought them to church. Stephen arrived there later and over heard this conversation between Gretchen's daughter, Mollee, and Lucy:

"What song are you singing?"

"This song my mom used to have on her mp3 player...I don't know what it means"

"It's about a group of siblings...some of them like to play pranks and some of them don't. They're always watching eachother eat, but the ones that want to play pranks want to watch the others sleep so they can play tricks on them while their sleeping."

"Oh! That makes sense."

Thank-you are a genius!

Friday, March 5, 2010

To Panic or Not To Panic

A funny thing about me that will give you a perspective on my day......

I have a history of panic attacks.

Mostly when I've been pregnant, did this occur. I guess my hormones literally turned me crazy. And Crazy I truly was. I was SO CERTAIN that there were people lurking about my home waiting to kill me and cut my baby from my womb. So certain, that I got mad at everyone who didn't take me seriously.

And I was quite certain, with subsequent children that there were people lurking at every corner waiting to take my older children too. Playgrounds were my ultimate night mare. I tied bells to doors and hid my children around the house, once they fell asleep. I only slept about 2 hours a night for months because of this burdensome paranoia. This would promptly go away as soon as I had my baby. I would return to normal world.

Unfortunately, because this occured, it seems that I'm still prone to panic attacks. I do whatever I need to do to avoid them and avoid scaring my kids. If Stephen is going to be gone for the evening and I feel a nervous edge coming on, I pack up the kids and go to a bookstore or a relative's house til he comes home...and we just sleep in the next morning. If I wake up slightly nervous at 2am, I watch a hysterical movie. These may seem extreme, but panic attacks are awful and I know that if I allow myself to be sucked into one, it's much more likely that I'll have more soon.

I've gone a LONG time without one. And I praise God for this!

I do things now that I used to never be able to leave the front door open and only lock the storm door. I allow my kids to go in 3 different directions on play grounds. I open the blinds or even (gasp) the windows themselves. Things that other people take for granted.

So imagine what happened to my mind and body when I looked out my kitchen window this morning and saw a man with a gun. Yep. You read that right.

Knowing myself the way I do, I stood there asking myself if I was seeing things. Once I was completely sure that this was NOT my mind playing tricks on me, my legs about fell from beneath me and were shaking.

My children were doing school work and were in pajamas...all except Iris who was, shall we say indecent? I yelled for them to get any clothes on...anything just quickly. While they were doing this I called Stephen and told him what I saw. He called the police. The police called me.

While talking to the police officer I looked back out the window. Gone was the man with the gun, but there was an awfully similar looking teenager lounging on a trampoline in a yard bordering ours. I told the police officer maybe it was a teenager with a bb gun. No, officer, I don't suppose I need you to send an officer out, but I'll call back if I change my mind.

Meanwhile, the kids had overheard what I had seen and were screaming their lungs out and crying. All except Clyde who was not about to let this punk kid make him hurry. He took his sweet time while trying to figure out why all the women folk were in hysterics.

I called Stephen and told him in no uncertain terms that he WAS going to meet me for lunch. The girls screamed that they did not want to go back home.

Stephen ate with us, questioned my reaction to the "emergency", told me why I did it all wrong, only to be met with rivers of tears and screaming. (You see how I'm just as patient with him as he is with me, right? ....poor man)

So, like a knight in shining armor does, he took the rest of the day off, came home and went to the boy's house. He was a BIG boy....bigger than Stephen. Stephen saw the bb gun. Stephen proceeded ask him if he had been in our yard. Yes, he had. What was he doing? Shooting a squirrel. You scared my wife to death and we called the police, but we didn't have them come out. Please don't come in our yard again. Thank you very much.

He came home and said, yes that bb gun did look very much like a 22 rifle. (This made me feel much less like an idiot)

The end.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Call Me Irresponsible Indeed

There's a reason for the name of my blog. Growing up I heard "you are the most irresponsible person" very often and from numerous people. I'm not proud of this. But somehow, try though I might, I haven't changed much.

My merciful and loving husband says I can't help it, it's just the way I am. I've tried over and over to prove him wrong in our nine and half years of marriage. But he's right. I'm ADD and some other things and my mind just doesn't work like other peoples' do for some reason. I'm trying to embrace this (not irresponsibility, just the fact that God made me different) so hence, the title and my fondness for the song.

In my childhood, I never remembered ANYTHING. Well that's not true... I remembered everything that I read out of the encyclopedia. Yes that was my pleasure reading when I was in elementary school. I was full of useless information and had no common sense or ability to retain say the fact that I was NOT supposed to ride the bus today.

So here are some of the ways I tortured the adults around me: Figuring it was okay to take my rabbit to school, Losing approximately (these are the ones I remember) 12 purses, 15 pairs of sunglasses, 5 wallets, 4 sets of keys, a violin bow and a pass port (5 days before my international mission trip), I RARELY remembered what I was supposed to do for homework, constantly lost planners in which I was supposed to write stuff down so I could remember it, I locked a baby in a car. As I read this, I'm overwhelmed by the small fraction that this paragraph represents. There is really no way to convey to everyone how bad it really is.

So knowing that....

I'll tell you about today.

I was supposed to meet a young friend of mine sometime during the month of February. Guess what. I forgot. So, my plan was to meet her today. So I simply asked some lovely ladies from my church to watch my kids for a while today, which they graciously did. But on my way out the door, to meet Gretchen for my first kid drop off, I locked my kids and myself out of the house and out of the car. We got very cold very quickly.

Stephen to the rescue! He immediately drops what he's doing at work, doesn't say a negative word and drives all the way to our house from down town.

Disaster averted. I'm on my way. Wait. Oh no! I forgot to feed the kids lunch. It's 1:40. Go to McDonalds. Make the kid drop. Head toward our church. Wait! Oh no! I forgot my lesson for my bible study class (I'm the teacher...kinda need a lesson). Drive home. Get lesson.

Okay, good. Now we're on our way. Uh-oh. I forgot to fill the tank up with gas and now it's empty. I pull into a gas station. Iris gets out to help me fill the tank. We get done pumping gas...and realize we're locked out of the car. Iris and I play "I spy" in the gas station while we wait for our knight in shining armor.

Yes folks! Twice in one day.

Stephen to the rescue...AGAIN. No frustrated or angry words. Slightly not smiling face. What a man. He asks if I'm okay....hmmm good question.

I make the second kid drop. I head to church. Take my lovely friend to dinner. My check card is DENIED! TWICE! Okay, so this part wasn't my fault...but still what an addition to my already fun filled day! I strongly dislike computers. Just guess who I call to come rescue me???

Was he mad? Nope.

Cause he's The Bomb.

But yowzers! What on Earth am I????

I'm coming to grips with this....sorta. I get frustrated with God. I ask Him, "Don't You want me to glorify you???? How can my being this deficient glorify You?" I think it's to keep me humble. If I do something right, it sure isn't by my own strength. It's so very obviously Him leading me. I have friends who remind me of events, my sister call and reminds me of birthdays, Stephen calls and reminds me of EVERY LITTLE THING I HAVE TO DO EVERY DAY. And if He didn't, I would forget. So I pray constantly, "God, please help me with so and so....please don't let me forget." And sometimes he says, "Okay" And I always know he's answered my prayer, because it's just not like me to get things so right.

For Real?

My BABY has been begging me to let her do school. I reeeally don't want to. And on top of that she just hasn't been ready to do any "real" school. So I've just been having her watch the Leap Frog alphabet movie and cut out shapes with scissors.

Well, she's kept at me quite persistently. I kept putting her off of course and told her nothing doing till she knew her letter sounds. See, she doesn't pay attention to the alphabet movie, my other two loved it, but not her. So whenever she'd beg, I'd say the alphabet and ask her the sound of each letter. She never knew more than 4 or 5.....until...the other day!



Sweet itty bitty Rissy hands. I can't believe they are WRITING!

Her first letters written by herself...I'm very impressed. But poor baby....apparently b's are much harder, I think she's already re-thinking this being ready for school thing. ;0)

My First Attempt

Those of you who know me know my daughter is allergic to milk. Normally she copes with this quite well. The only thing she repetitively laments over is her denial of ice cream.....but she loves sorbet.

So being the incredibly wonderful mother that I am (hey I can exagerate, it's my blog) I decided to make her some apple sorbet... quite a lot of it, infact. How do you like THAT run-on sentence!?

Here's mine.

Here are the kids "enjoying" it. I asked Lucy to smile, cause guess what? She's the kid that didn't like it. Fail. Blah.

But hey, I liked it.