"Nathan, this is the picture I drew at preschool today."

"Oooh Aubrey, I like it. Did you draw my name?"

"Yes, here. And I drew you right here. See, in the house?"

"Oh, I like being in the house."

"No you don't. I drew you in the house because you hit me."

"I DIDN'T HIT YOU!"

"Yes you did. Hard."

"AAAAUUUUUUUUUUUBBBBBRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!! I DIDN'T HIT YOU!!!!!'

"Yes you did."

"Mommy, I didn't hit Aubrey!!!"

"Aubrey, stop bugging him. Nathan, she's just pretending you did in the picture. Aubrey, can you think of something nicer to draw next time?"

Aubrey, calm and matter of fact, "No."

"MMMMMMOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!"

Dane, one week post Operation Fractured Arm

Have you been around Dane this last week? I mean, if you haven't then just imagine an active 1 1/2 year old. Then picture him with a cast. And poor balance. And no sense of self preservation. Imagine his parents following him around with outstretched arms, trying to keep him from falling for the 18th (by 18 I mean 18 THOUSAND) time that day. Imagine me wishing his cast was made of titanium or the stuff Wolverine's skewer claws are made of.

We had a follow up today and it was okay. His original break had the bones displaced at a 20 degree angle. They set it to zero degrees. Today on x-ray it measured 7 degrees displaced. This could have happened because kid bones are pliable and slippery and take the easiest way out by trying to revert to the broken position. Or it could happen because Dane still is trying to go down the slide head first. Either way the doc decided not to replace his splint because he was afraid of moving the bone anymore. However, he wasn't worried enough about the displacement to warrant resetting it. So, Dane is stuck in his stinky finger paint colored splint for two more weeks at which point, if the bones are set enough, they will replace with a short, below the elbow cast, for a week or two.

I have decided that it will require heavy drinking and sedatives to slow that kid down. Since I only like to use those in emergencies I'm settling for frantically chasing him around and using the drinking and sedatives for myself.

Just another Sunday

Yesterday we went to the evening service of church. It is a smaller service with a fraction of the kids who attend the early morning services.

When we check our kids into their Sunday school classes they are assigned a bracelet with a number and we have one that matches. If something happens during church their number flashes up on a big screen and it means your kid needs you pronto. Our friends on the inside call it church bingo. The childcare workers try hard to only call parents out when your kid truly does need you. You know, pronto.

Our kids were about 40% of the children checked in last night. We rarely are called out. You know, cause our kids never fuss or make messes or cause problems. An attitude which we obviously needing humbling from.

My booty had barely warmed the seat when up comes the first number. I knew instantly it was one of ours. Nathan. I head to his class to find him crying miserably while his kind teacher, and family friend Brad, consoled him. Accident. Pee AND poop. Dear Lord.

I take him to the van. I don't even carry extra clothes for him anymore because he is potty trained. And what will I do with the poop. That's a whole other story of course about being prepared and kids do whatever the heck they want even when you think you are in charge. But I digress.

I was kind and patient to my poor crying son. I also had nothing for him to wear. He was desperate to return because the kids were going to play outside. I ended up dressing him in no underwear (Ang, it was even on purpose!) and a pair of Dane's sweats. They were little red knickers on him and he looked ridiculous. Who cares though? Brad the teacher swore they wouldn't openly mock him and Nathan didn't care so back he goes.

As I'm leaving to head back to service I see Greg approach with Dane. Who is wearing a dress shirt and diaper and that's it. "Hon, do you have any extra pants for Dane?" Seems Dane had exploded poop all over his clothes and was now half naked. Greg had won church bingo just moments after I left. Of course, I did have pants for Dane but they were now on Nathan. Since Nathan was naked underneath he got to keep the pants. Dane ran around in the cold fall evening, pants less and shoe less. Friend and teacher Brad recommended we squirt a fake tear on his cheek, put he and Nathan together for a photo, and the church could use it as an advertisement for helping the down and out families of Valley Real Life.

Greg and I looked at each other and called it a day. We went home about 35 minutes into church. It felt sacrilege but pee and poop beat out God for the evening. And remember, never ever ever leave your house without three changes of clothes per person, seven diapers and pull-ups, and 1000 wipes. Even if you don't have kids.

Trumped

(Aubrey is going through a terrific fake smile stage. This is as natural as it got for a first day of school pic.)

That's what you are when your baby brother decides to bust his arm on your first day of preschool. Those are the breaks. (HAHAHA.)

That said, preschool, especially one's first day, is a FREAKING BIG DEAL. You know, mom with tears in her eyes lamenting how big her baby is, daddy saying he can't wait to hear all about it, and if you're Aubrey, probably being drug in with tear filled eyes.

EXCEPT SHE DIDN'T!!!!

The preschool has a valet pick up and drop off system so all the cars wait in line for their turn to be individually greeted by the teacher and to have their kiddo escorted in. (That reads like the cars are the parents. Aubrey belongs to us, her human parents, not the van.) As we were waiting in line Aubrey was sitting beside me on the passenger seat, springing up and down. "When is it time? Who's that? Is he in my class? Am I so big? Nathan, you can't do this until you're five. How much longer?"

That's when I got out of the van and frantically searched under it, looking for my true daughter. The jolly ball of anticipation could not be my child. EXCEPT IT WAS!

She then bounced out of the car with her teacher with nary a side ways glance. I didn't even have time to get choked up and she didn't contemplate a tearful good-bye. See ya later mom, don't let the door hit you on the way out.

Pick up was the same. The first thing she exclaimed, after bouncing into the van was that it was the BEST FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL EVER!!!!!! (You know, since she's had so many.) I talked to Piper, I sat in the big circle, the teacher told everyone who I was, I got to swing, I had goldfish crackers for a snack, my teacher said I'm a good writer, Nathan, you can't go until you're five, do I get to go again tomorrow??

Suffice to say, preschool is a success. Today went just as well and I think she has the making of an aeronautical physicist for sure. You go girl!



DANE UPDATE:

Dane is doing great today. We got home at 9:00 p.m. last night after the surgeon set his arm and resplinted it. We had to stay through post-op as he came out of anesthesia. He woke up steaming mad, ravenous, and ready to melt into a puddle of exhaustion. He was temporarily distracted with apple juice and a grape Otter Pop but finally had had enough. We kept up on his pain meds during the night so that his pain didn't catch up with him and he slept through the night and woke up smiling. His siblings were very interested to see his injury and Dane proudly showed off his splint and sling while saying, "OWIE." No kidding baby. Other than the annoyance of an uncomfortable sling strap he has been his usual self. We go back in a week from today for either a hard cast or a new splint and he should be healed in three weeks. Sadly one of the first things Greg said to me when he saw me in the E.R. yesterday was, "Honey, I don't think this is the last time we'll be here." Thanks for blazing the trail Dane.

What did you do today??

I got up at 6:00 a.m.

Got ready, made breakfast, got our stuff together.

Took Aubrey to her FIRST DAY OF PRESCHOOL!!!! (It went awesome. Another story for another post.)

Went straight to Bible Study with the boys.

Picked up Aubrey from her FIRST DAY OF AWESOME SCHOOL!

Came home, had lunch.

While I-chatting my mom watched Dane fall off a toy and BREAK BOTH BONES IN HIS ARM.

Yep, you read that right.

Spent the next seven hours in the E.R., getting x-rays, splint, closed reduction-put-our-baby-boy-under-anesthesia to realign the bones in his arm, through post-op, a new splint, some Tylenol with codeine, and finally home. Felt like a craptastic mom and felt rotten for our little man who was a trooper through it all.

Dane came home and ate 3 pancakes without breathing since he hadn't been allowed to eat all day.

Came home to find that my AMAZING friend Megan, who watched Aubrey and Nathan at a moments notice so I could take Dane in, had cleaned my whole kitchen while I was out.

Collapsed into bed.

TOP THAT!

When I grow up

(My paternal grandmother, Annelies, date and age unknown)

I've been itching for a blogging excuse to use this photo. Isn't she beautiful? She is obviously dressed up for an occasion and I have wondered what it was. A party? A dance? Maybe a date? She looks so happy and carefree.

I feel like I've had a less than carefree week. Lots of adult stuff and not much time to process it. Sometimes it's hard not to look at myself and wonder, when did I grow up?? It sneaks up on you. One day you're 18 and the next day you still feel 18 but you're actually 30. (Almost anyways.)

I don't think 30 is old. It's just that is seemed to come on the heals of 21, with all the other years missing in between. I understand why people in their 80s will say that they don't feel 80. It's because they DON'T. Sometime after leaving adolescence the years swept past and suddenly they are wearing pink polyester pants and an embroidered sweatshirt and probably thinking, "I hate polyester! And I don't even like birds, let alone ones embroidered on my collar!" It just happens.

I don't want to be 18 anymore. I'm satisfied with my life and where it has taken me. All the things I used to dream about like a husband and kids, have come true. Not very many people say they are living their dream but I actually am. I recognize how special that is. It's just that I'm still supposed to be too young for these things, right? Having to act tough when you want to curl up and cry is still a part of this whole adult gig that I haven't mastered. Adulthood I have decided isn't anything you learn or grow into or master. It is thrust upon you and you just do it. Even when the kid in you is yelling that you need a nap and your own mother.

Such ramblings. All this to say that sometimes being an adult is tough work. And no, this post has little to do with the picture. But it was still fun too see, huh?

Oh the joy

Tears of delight stream down my face as I happily welcome Season 6 of "So You Think You Can Dance" to the fall line up. Despite promises to myself to consume nothing that isn't full of calcium, vitamins, fiber, and other delights, I'm dishing a huge bowl of Heath Toffee ice cream and prepping for the first episode. How on earth did I not think to mention this show in my list of pick me ups?

Does this show make everyone else show off their awesome moves too? I spend a good half hour pirouetting around the living room and showing off my flexibility. You know, like almost touching my toes.

Man, it's a good night.

Good Night Sweetheart

May you fall asleep tonight the way the Jones babies did.

A new memory verse (Galatians 5:22) for the week said. Prayers. Kisses. Hugs.

And Daddy, singing you verse after verse of Swing Low and You Are My Sunshine.

Sleep in heavenly peace indeed.


(Pictures, respectively: Dane, 6 months, at the Tacoma zoo
Nathan, 13 months, in Seaside, OR
Aubrey, 2 + yrs old, Christmas 2006)

Pick me ups

What do you like best when you're feeling down?

(p.s. You don't have to say the right thing here. Even if saying, "looking into the eyes of my children" is the right thing to say, actually saying "a bag of chocolate and a Long Island Iced Tea" is what we're really looking for here. But sometimes looking into the eyes of your children is what makes you feel better, and that's okay too. But it's okay if sometimes it doesn't. Got it?)

This is what I like.

Tapioca pudding. If I'm feeling extra bummed I make it with whole milk instead of non fat. Or a mix of both if I'm middle of the road bummed. How is that I Love This Stuff when it's like eating fish eggs?

A comfort movie. The kind of movie you have watched 1000 times and will watch that many more times. Some of my comfort movies are "When Harry Met Sally", "Little Women", the Anne of Green Gables trilogy, most episodes of "Arrested Development", "Juno", and "Notting Hill". Among others I'm sure.

Taking a nap. A long, uninterrupted nap. With a down pillow and two blankets. In a room with a little white noise but not another sound. And the phone never rings and there is never an alarm clock.

Greg's snuggles. They are unmatched.

Grande, soy, no water, chai.

A Bible verse about grace or love or forgiveness or healing.

My grandparent's home, doing nothing.

Reading a can't-d0-another-thing-with-my-life-until-I-finish-this-book book.

Sitting in a chair at Barnes and Noble for hours, reading most any book off the "must read for school" table. It's where all the classics are.

A phone conversation with that person who always knows the right thing to say and the right time to not say anything.

And, in all truth, looking into my children's eyes.

Anti-gravity

Houston, we have lift off!

The Constant Gardener

DIAPERED

DANE

DISCOVERS

DANGEROUSLY

DELICIOUS

HORTICULTURE

DELIGHTS

DAZZLING!