Snippets from school

 We celebrated Dr. Seuss all last week which culminated in a party on Friday with One Fish Two Fish snacks and Cat in the Hat fruit kebobs. My coworkers are the best! 

We've finished the Olympics and moved on to March Madness, but with books. Daily we've been reading two books to the kids and they have to vote on their favorite, We have brackets made of painters' tape up on the walls with photocopies of the covers of each book, so once it is full I'll get some photos for here. So far, the Sleep Book won over its competitor, Fox in Socks was in the running, and so was Marvin K Mooney. They won't all be Seuss books, but that's what we kicked it off with. 

We've had two Silly Socks days. One of the 3s came in with these socks, above, which are possibly the cutest socks I've ever seen in my life! It took him a minute to get them to hold hands, but he got it!

You can see my Mary Jane with Wonder Woman sock in the bottom left, but you can't see the cape on the back of it, alas.

 And the Olympics! BOY, did we have fun. I've never enjoyed the Winter Games more than this year. One of my coworkers made these bobsleds, above, and the skis, below, and we also had hockey games with pool noodles, ski jumps off the gym mats with pool noodle ski poles, a slalom course set up of hula hoops that the kids had to hop into from side to side on both feet, and on and on. They had a ball! We had so much gross motor time that we really saw a lot of confidence being built up, especially in kiddos we didn't expect to really get involved! It has been a very long winter of inside recess, so the chance to have something novel to try was a huge hit. 

Our kids even made "torches" from a toilet paper roll and red, orange, and yellow tissue paper, and then with that in one hand and a mini American flag in the other, got to parade through the lunchroom while the big kids chanted, "USA! USA! USA!" and the sound system played the Olympic theme. The 4s and 5s were thrilled. The 3s were dubious. All were adorable.  

The skis look a little worse for wear here, but the kids were absolutely delighted. I personally am sad that the Olympics are over and that we won't get to do it again for years! It was really neat to experience them for the first time throuigh these little kids who had no idea what the fuss was about and to then have them coming in each day asking, "what are the Olympics today?!"

Another post of Random

 Dada hit yet another auction, this time with Thing Two, and brought home at least three boxes of books. Now we get to sort what we want to keep, will actually use, will never use, what goes to the used bookstore for book credit, and so on!

One of Thing Two's science experiments isn't going as planned. The Dixie cup on the left has three bean seeds. The Dixie cup on the right has 15 bean seeds. The glass jar in the middle holds a few but aren't part of the experiment. 

He's supposed to find out what happens when seeds are overcrowded. I told him to just look at our garden for an example of overcrowding. None of his initial three beans have even come up, three of the 15 showed up, and the ones who don't matter are thriving. Beans.

I was killing some time last week when I saw these lovely colors together and had to take pictures!

Being in a college town, you end up with lots of coffee shops. This is one of our favorites. The week before, Thing Three had beaten Thing Two who proceeded to shellac him this time!

These next two shots were taken at the bus stop first thing in the morning. Well, first thing for some people. Right around 7 AM. Some of us had already been up for hours. It's so dark!

It's rare to see this kid conked out like this. He's always in motion, but he sure had a great nap this weekend!

Tis the season for shepherd's pie!

Have a terrific week!

Books and friends

 I don't know how many of you use the Goodreads app and just haven't friended me, but it is a nice way to keep track of what you're reading, what your friends are reading, what you'd like to read some day in the future, and what you're done with. Plus, you can set up challenges for yourself. For 2022 I figured I'd make it through 55 books. I am already 5 books behind. I may have to start catching up with Chicken Soup with Rice ...

Anyway, here are Geoffrey and a snake whose name I don't recall being read to by yet another tiny Tino...

...whilst Grogu, Cookie, and Peanuts peruse Where's Waldo.

Eugene, Laverne, and Vincent from Disney's "Hunchback of Notre Dame" are enjoying one of Damon's humungous books of fun facts. I used to regularly arrange stuffed lovies when I made beds on sheet day, but since they help with that now I don't get to goof off as much. I'm hoping everyone chuckles tonight at bedtime. 

What are you reading? What are your friends reading? I've bogged down in all my stuff and need a good kick in the pants. Lemme know when you find something good!

Christmas 2020

One of Thing One's Christmas presents was the piercing of ears, which happens at tattoo parlors around here, believe it or not. And not being 18, this was the second attempt getting them done as we didn't have the requisite birth certificate in hand the first time around.

 Apparently earring care has changed since I've had mine done a long, long time ago, and you're not supposed to turn the front one way while rotating the back the opposite direction twice a day or swabbing them with rubbing alcohol. The new thing is a container of "Wound Wash" which just leaves itself open to so many wrong avenues...

I know a lot of you got buttloads of Christmas snow. Thankfully we were not so "blessed", haha. We got a dusting and that counts as a white Christmas, thank you very much!

We also had a lovely sunset. The weather cooperated for Pap to get here from Uncle Kelly and Aunt Becky's, from which he left Christmas morning. We waited to open presents until he got here, which was much harder on some of us than on others. Overall, they did well, and he got here around 1:30 so they didn't have to wait forever regardless of what they'd tell you.

Liam had a moment of exasperation with Damon, who was dancing with glee, and commented, "Bro! Stop flossing and put these over there!" I don't remember what he was trying to hand over, but it cracked me up. Other things overheard:

YES! It's the GOOD paper! ~regarding a new sketchbook

YAY! Plain clothes! ~regarding new wardrobe additions

WAHOO! Gift cards!

There apparently was some good-natured ribbing from some online friends about still using a rainbow loom, to which was replied, "shut up and let me be fabulous!"

There were new games, art supplies, clothes, puzzle games, video games, books, lovely scented lotions, a fuzzy blanket, and even a lunch box in case we ever leave the house again. 

It was a pleasant, quiet, blessed Christmas that we spent in our warm, cozy home. Three kids, three dogs, three adults, far too much food, two Christmas trees, a partridge in a pear tree. 

We are thankful. 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from us to all of you!

Hassle

Please forgive the delay in new posts. The problem isn't lack of material; I'm fairly sure I'm just experiencing an id10t error. That means "user error". That means me!

I don't speak computer. My brain tends to run like a spider web or a fiber optics still. Computers are happy to find things for you provided you tell them what you're looking for and where to look. Alas (and at the same time thank goodness) my laptop can't seem to read my mind when I'm yelling that I want it to upload the pictures I just imported so that they could be added here. Then I realize that I just did that process while in the Guest User designation on my own computer, which means that everything will be lost when I log out and log into my own account. The reason I didn't get into my own account in the first place is because Damon is working on his Honda project for school and has several tabs open that he/I don't want to have to re-find. Ugh. Technology strikes again.

In the meantime, I'll try to figure out what to do about the photos I have from the art show for which Carrie entered both drawings and pottery, the first of three karate black belt tests, random Ohio sunrises, and our feathered friends at the feeder. 

That will go down around picking Liam up early from school to whisk him to the orthodontist because part of his let's-bring-your-lower-jaw-forward appliance came unglued on one side, and the laundry and grocery shopping and spring cleaning attempts and so on and so forth. I've already run around like a chicken with its head cut off this morning, trying to find items which will be dropped off at school when I hang out with my first graders on Friday morning. For each thing I found, there was something next to it that didn't belong there, so I played one of a mom's most often played games: Put That Thing Back Where It Came From Or So Help Me. Thank you, Mike Wazowski. If you have no idea what I'm talking about and need a tangent, click here and you'll understand my brain a little better. Maybe. I claim no credit for the Disney/Pixar/Billy Crystal/John Goodman brilliance; all I did was copy and paste the link. 

Anyway, I'm trying to round up clothes and shoes to be donated at the school, old sun- and eyeglasses to be dropped off at a business downtown close to where I'll also be donating used books; in general, I'm all over the place. To make things that much funnier, as I'm rummaging around to find old glasses, a handle of my great-grandmother's end table fell off. After three vain attempts to put the darned thing back together by hand, I realized I needed a screwdriver, which also was not where it belonged as it had migrated into the not-quite-put-back-together fireplace room. Found it, fixed the handle, found the glasses, thought, "I should be uploading pictures while I do all this since that takes awhile..." and here we are. Stuck. 

Now the dryer is done. Oy. Round three, ding ding!

All the hairy details

It's funny. I read in one of my multitudes of breast cancer books that I should box up all my hair care products so they're out of my way and I don't have to keep seeing them. I did my best, but those of you with plenty of hair know how hair clips and hair elastics and hair accessories seem to migrate all through the house, the car, into every handbag, etc. I thought I did pretty well gathering Stuff up and sticking it all in a box:

Then I remembered I also had a drawer in the kids' bathroom:

If the entire purpose of boxing up The Hair Stuff was to free space, the experts have seriously underestimated the generosity of my friends and family. This is not everything I received in the mail or in person, but it is the vast majority of it. The bandannas in the bottom left are representatives of a much larger stack of them which I've used throughout my life and especially at camp. To any of you who thoughtfully picked out fabrics, styles, and colors for my naked bean, I thank you. Thanks for spiffing up my wardrobe!

And to those of you who see me when I'm not wearing anything on my head, you now are absolutely sure that it is not because I am lacking appropriate headgear. Sometimes it is nice to just feel the wind in my hair eyebrows eyelashes ears. 

No, I really don't like that. I tend to pull all these suckers down so the wind doesn't do that...

There are many more tiny hairs on my head than there were a few weeks ago. Dada is teasing me about it coming in white and curly, but they look mighty straight-and-stick-outy to me. My Mary Alice calls it dandelion hair. Time will tell. Eyebrows also seem to be attempting a comeback and I have curled my eyelashes without fear of losing them entirely twice in the last week. This is what progress looks like!

Decisions

Where to begin?

Titles are hard for me. I either have one in mind before I write the actual post (rarely) or I struggle to sum up what I've written into a concise title. I dislike reading passages and "telling the main idea" because, for me, life is about all the little things more than it is about the big things. Big things, to me, tend to take care of themselves whereas little things can be wrangled and finessed and pondered over. 

They say the devil is in the details. I am firmly in the camp which knows it is God who is in the details. 

A tiny for instance? My bedroom growing up was wallpapered in Holly Hobbie forever. Like from second grade until about 9th, maybe even longer. At some point, you couldn't see any Holly Hobbie because I had so many animal posters and Johnny Depp posters and my own artwork up that there was no wallpaper visible. My parents finally caved and repainted it Bermuda Blue, which is exactly the gorgeous deep blue of the Caribbean, and they let me paint a mural on one wall.

We weren't in our first home long enough to do any painting, but our second home PaPa helped paint Carrie's room a lovely blue. Our third home, we painted our master bedroom Mountain Lake blue. PaPa quipped about it being the third time he'd painted blue bedrooms for me. I remember musing, "I might like a green bedroom next time."

Guess what color our bedroom is right now, and has been for the five years we've been here? A soothing green. We didn't do it. Details. I've heard it said that God cares about the things which concern us. I believe it, because he loves us, and when you love someone, what worries them doesn't usually sit well with you either because you don't want your loved ones to be stressed out. Sure, it could be a coincidence. It could be the previous owners thought, "green is soothing in a bedroom and we're trying to sell, so... green it is." I prefer to think that God used them to get it ready for us. 

At any rate, I am one indecisive chick. It takes forever for me to pick out a movie (don't even get me started on the endless choices Netflix offers) or a meal at a restaurant. Oddly enough, I manage okay at ice cream shoppes- just a small hot fudge sundae, please. I judge books by their covers constantly and often end up with colorful, captivating outsides which may or may not reflect the quality of writing within; then I can't decide which one to begin with. 

So you can pretty well imagine how hard it was to make a decision which will affect my next 40 or so years, God willing. Yes, here she goes again with the talk about boobs. She's like a junior high boy! For those of you sick of the subject, feel free to Prince Humperdinck, "skip to the end."  And for those of you scratching your heads, you simply must see "The Princess Bride" for your own sake. How many fun references are you missing out on if you haven't seen that classic? But I digress...

The final consensus is that later this month I'm going to go flat on both sides with no reconstruction. In more medical terms that is called a bilateral (both sides) mastectomy (loss of boobage, I guess). Those of you who want to be done reading now have your answer and may be excused. Thanks for the prayers: please keep them coming as surgery is kinda a big deal and we're back to school so that means lots of germs coming home and it'll take time to heal including exercises and lifting restrictions and all that. Seriously, huge thanks and please don't stop. 

If anyone wants more details, here they are. It was a really hard decision that took way longer to make than I thought it would. I had a strong feeling from the get-go that I didn't want manmade materials inserted into me (implants) which had the potential for extra surgeries down the road and/or leakage. After consulting with a plastic surgeon who had us hold them, squeeze them, see what they actually looked and felt like, I felt better about the options but still no great desire to go that route. We were especially reassured that the "gummy bear" ones wouldn't leak even if we squeezed them. However, I'm not enthused by the fact that they're new enough that I can't be sure they won't leach anything into me over time. Those suckers gotta last me into my 80s hypothetically and they simply haven't been around long enough in this form for me to feel like anything other than a guinea pig. Not a great feeling. At what point do small statistics of problems make it okay to try something, you know?

We initially met with him to discuss a procedure where he would potentially use only skin and fat from my abdomen to shape me a new right side boob. He had me stand there and he pinched my excess and said, "you don't have enough you to do what you want to do, which is good because you're thin, except that you only have enough here to make about a third of what you have up there." So there went that option. Since I couldn't make one from myself, and I have never wanted only one- and to those of you (not my term) uniboobs out there, ladies, you are amazing. I don't feel I would be happy like that. I feel there'd be a lot of pressure to wear a fake one and I don't have any desire to go that route either- because I think having one would be harder on my personal self image than having none at all. Having none means no bras,  no underboob sweat, and perhaps I'll weigh less, haha. 

Reconstruction would mean sticking an implant in, layering  an acellular material over that, then replacing the layer of fat and skin on top of it all and then create a nipple out of, I guess, whatever is left over? No idea. But mine are beyond saving, so they'd be newly created nipples. Apparently they can be tattooed, also. Who knew? The whole thing is fascinating. And not for me. The feelings and sensations would not be the same as the originals I have now and it can take (depending what you're reading) two to five years to restore most feeling as it is. What you have then is pretty much what you'll have forever. I'm hearing that massaging the area as much as possible helps keep things looser instead of too tight and keeps the scar tissue from being hard and weird. Let me state for the record that I am no expert on any of this, but I am learning a lot. The amount of information out there is amazing. What we ever did before the Internet, I'll never know. I can't imagine going back. 

Reconstruction from yourself takes the longest time to heal because you have more than one incision site. I was seriously thinking about it because I liked the idea of all the raw materials coming from myself. They nurse explained that thin women and very large women both often walk out disappointed; the thin women because they don't have enough material to work with and the very large women because fatty tissue is not the best replacement material. They said the ratio needs to be more than one to one. Oh well. 

So I decided that:

I've already nursed my babies for 15 months, 20 months, and 22 months, respectively. We're not in the market for any more, so I don't need them for feeding anyone else. 

They've never been that big of a deal for me. In fourth grade, my mother took me to my annual doctor's visit and I was asked if I wear a bra every day. My mother answered, "yes" and I angrily piped up, "nuh uh! I wear an undershirt as often as I can!" It was true. I preferred the undershirts with the tiny strip of lace along the front and the skinny little straps to any of the training bras I had. 

I don't want anything perky and bouncy and ridiculous when I am 80 and everything else looks like... I'm 80. That would be weird. Ew, no thanks. 

I don't want anything leaking or leaching into me. I don't want more surgeries. Yes, I understand they can put them in during the same surgery my originals come out. They're still manmade and I don't trust them. I am not in the market for fake.

I feel relieved that the decision is made and that, since I can't have the ones God gave me, I won't have any at all. I don't see me having a change of heart and desiring them down the road. I simply don't feel like fake ones are worth the potential risks down the road. I am not convinced that I need boobs to, one, look womanly or, two, feel sexy or, three, to be me. 

Three strikes and you're out. The girls are being banished. I reserve the right to mourn them and I'm sure there are moments or times or seasons where I will miss them. That's how life is. God won't love me any less if I have boobs or not. My family and friends won't either. Dada is supportive and plays an excellent devil's advocate to help me think everything through. Have I thought of everything? No, I'm sure there's aspects which haven't occurred to me. Am I scared about it? A bit, but most of the fear was about making the right decision. I am convinced this is what is best for me and my long term health. In the end that's what all of this is about anyway- my best shot at living my life while becoming and then staying cancer-free. PaPa pointed out that I can honestly say, "we threw everything at this health crisis and held nothing back." If I have a recurrence, God forbid, it will not be out of negligence on the part of my medical team or out of holding back and simply hoping for the best on my part. I will have gone through 6 rounds of chemo, surgery to remove the troublemaking breast and the at-this-point "good" breast, five and a half weeks of radiation five days a week, an entire year of IV meds roughly every three weeks as a preventative, plus an additional 5 to 10 years of maintenance medication. If you put that in terms of kids, I will be done with meds either when Carrie turns 20 or when she turns 25. She could be married by then. Liam will be almost done with high school or almost done with whatever college or vocational school he heads off to. Damon will be Liam's age now in 5 years and will be 18 in 10 years. That's a long time. I have a lot to do in those 5 to 10 years and am not willing to be popping back in for surgery to fix things back up should they fail or should I decide they're not working for me and need removed after all. I have better things to do.

Thank you to all of you who have been praying so faithfully as I waffle over what is, still, to me, a ridiculous choice. I told Dada that we are not meant to have to make choices like this about our bodies. If we were, when we're born we would come with a kit like Mr. Potato Head and could add pieces and parts however we chose. How do you balance "your body is a temple and belongs to the Lord" with "insurance will cover whatever because there is so much psychological weight attached to these particular body parts that society says are important"? Thank you for praying for wisdom and for being there to bounce ideas off of and for knowing when I was tired of talking and thinking about it and changing the subject and just for being your wonderful, supportive selves. I am blessed beyond measure, boobs or no boobs. So I'm going flat and not looking back. 

         

Snippets and scans

Today I have two scans, two more personal medical firsts, and I'm kind of excited about them. Definitely intrigued. 

I'm having my very first CT scan done and my first bone scan. While I am not thrilled about more injections into me, this time of contrast dye, I think the technical aspect of both sounds fascinating. I'm sure Liam is going to wish he was with me when I relate the procedure with the camera passing over me. If you're interested, I thought this link was fun: bone scan 

Once again, I'm not supposed to eat or drink anything as of two hours before the tests. Some sites say I'll be drinking water throughout them, so that would be okay with me... I hate feeling like I'm shriveling up from the inside out.

I've been struck by how much chemo reminds me of pregnancy. I know I've told some of you this already, but let me enlighten any who are curious as to how that could be. 

I always called pregnancy a "total-body takeover" which I think was coined Vicki Iovine in her "The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy" which is absolutely hilarious and spot on. There seem to be no body systems not affected by being pregnant.

Chemo seems very similar, which makes sense to me a non-medical person, because it's sheer volumes of chemicals being dumped into an otherwise unsuspecting body. I can picture my cells holding various bits and pieces and musing, "hmm. What am I supposed to do with all this new stuff?" I can see baby cells slamming them together like a 6 month old sitting up child whacks blocks together, maybe only connecting pieces by accident. Then the big cells look at each other and shrug, "okay, we'll give it a try!"

My GI tract is just off enough to cause excitement that nobody wants. The various medications had predicted anything from constipation to diarrhea, and let me just mention that I am not having constipation issues. Immodium is my new friend, people. 

Tastes and smells are affected, so even if something sounds appealing, which is getting rarer, it doesn't always stay that way once it's in front of me. For a Hobbit, not enjoying eating is just pitiful. Even cookies aren't appealing right now. Cookies!

I told the kids yesterday that my mouth felt like I'd been sucking on a camel. Not a freshly washed camel, mind you, but one that had been through 40 days and 40 nights in the desert. Liam, of course, asked how I knew what a camel tasted like. You know that puckery feeling your mouth gets if you fall prey to temptation and eat way too many sour Warheads or something similar? Or even an obscene amount of movie theater popcorn? My mouth and lips and soft palate all feel pebbled. PSA: do not attempt to enjoy Atomic Fireballs in this condition. You have been warned. I was afraid I was going to have crisped children as I was pretty sure that I could actually breathe fire. Wow. Not the smartest thing I've ever done, but now I know. All Fireballs will be joining my hair ties and other supplies until chemo is over. Yikes. 

I've been told alcohol-free mouthwash and a baking soda with salt rinse help, and they do. Gum, not so much. Gonna take some getting used to, sadly.

Remember the hair, skin, nails changes, ladies? Yep, that too. It is easier to pluck as my hair is loosening, so there's a perk, I guess, but I'm sporting a third eye between my eyebrows and another on my chin right now that make me think not-so-fondly of high school days...

On the plus side, short hair is much easier to keep clean-ish and my hairballs don't look like tumbleweeds any longer. One of the reasons I stick with long hair is I'm too lazy and cheap to do the required maintenance cuts every 4-6-8 weeks to keep a short 'do looking the way it should. I won't have to worry about that this time. Soon I may look like Sinead O'Connor and then Mr. Clean! Wheeeee! Talk about streamlined mornings. Eyeliner, earrings, and out the door. I've already quit with the mascara as I'm losing quite a few eyelashes when I rub them. Just not worth taking more off with the mascara, I suppose. Yes, Mommee, I will remember the sunscreen. I promise. Ain't nobody want to see a peely, sunburned, egg of a head. Did I already talk about the chicken pox? I can't remember and I'm too lazy to look. When I was a kid, my brother graciously shared his chicken pox with me one summer. I remember lying on a sheet on the couch and wanting to scratch something, anything, but being told not to because it would leave a scar. I remember thinking, "there has to be someplace I can scratch where nobody will ever see." My aha moment hit and I elatedly began scratching my scalp for all I was worth. It felt wooooonderful, and now all I can wonder is, how pockmarked will my scalp be in a few weeks when I get to see the damage I inflicted? Oh well! Serves me right! The kids have already asked if they can draw constellations on my head with magic markers if the scars are there. I know you're all dying of not surprise. 

Feelings. Wow, the feels are all over and dripping off of the map, just like during pregnancy. Some moments I think, "I've got this" and the next I feel like I need to watch every sad movie I've ever seen in a marathon so I can finally get all the tears and snot and frustration out. The problem is that those feelings usually creep out towards bedtime when I'm most tired and vulnerable, and everyone knows that when you cry at bedtime that your eyes are all swollen and icky the next day and your pillow is wet and your nose stuffs up so you can't breathe through your clogged nose which makes you breathe through your mouth and dries out your throat... no thanks, I've got enough going on, thanks. I will have to schedule my prescribed good cry and not at bedtime. 

So all of these lovely issues, and no baby at the end. Why did I sign up for this again? Hmmm. Turns out living with breast cancer is relatively easy. Living with the treatment of it is an entirely different can of worms, one I'm not even sure I want to open the whole way. Bleh. 

Enough about me. I do not want this blog to be hijacked by cancer. It gets enough from me as it is. 

Picture this: a second grade, rather tall for his age boy in pajamas and a hoodie, backpack weighted down by 6 hardback library books and 1 self-owned paperback, a lunchbox, his daily folder, a snack container of cheezits, and a small flashlight. Additionally he's carrying a cloth grocery bag stuffed with his pillow and two throws, waiting for the bus. His face is tearstained because he's not taking the sleeping bag which is bigger than he is. I compromised on the extra throw, one for under him and one for on top of him, but he's still not having it. Today is the read a thon and phys ed, and his heart was set on lugging even more than he already had to school. We already had the talk about "are you sure you wanna take so many books? This is really heavy!" "I got it, Mom!" We already talked about how no matter what he's going to have a fun day. To shift perspective and thus hopefully attitude, I mentioned that while he's reading in his pajamas all comfy and cozy with his friends, I'd be at the hospital again getting poked for more tests. He's subdued where he had been mutinous, but I hate that I have to ever play the cancer card. This morning was not my best from a digestion standpoint, and making it out to the bus stop with him was looking iffy but we made it. He boarded the bus with all his Stuff and life went on. I hate how this summer is going to be hard on them in regards to what I physically will and will not be able to do, but we will soldier on. I can't wait to hear after my scans how much fun he had and what the best part was. Which reminds me, I need to pack a book for all the waiting I'm going to be doing in between scans while waiting for the dye to get where it needs to go... maybe this weekend I can stay in my pajamas and have a read in! Come on over, and bring your books! 

Counting today, there are only five days left of the school year. Can I get an eeeeeeeeeeeeek?!

Happy New Year

I can't believe my parents were here for 5 nights and I didn't get a single picture of my Daddee and only a handful of Mommee. *sigh* Clearly I am not very good at this!

Here's what I do have. The girls worked really hard to organize Thing One's bedroom:

Sorry they're so blurry. I'm not sure what my problem was.

And Grandmama got taken to task at Candyland. I'm pretty sure Thing Three was a cheaterpants, but you know how that goes. 

We all had a good time with them here, opening yet more Christmas gifts, partaking in Pisanello's Pizza, watching "Stardust", reading books, playing games, and generally goofing off. I'm super glad they didn't have to drive to and from in snow and ice!

Thanks for making the trip to come spoil the kids some more. Happy New Year, everyone!

Is it naptime now?

Whew, I don't know where this month year has gone, but today is Monday already, again. This weekend was busy. 

We took the kids to karate on Friday night and then they stayed for Nerf Night while Dada and I had a date. Grandmama has been here for the weekend, so we had extra hands and eyes to help corral kids, get early homework out of the way, hang out clothes, etc. She's headed home today and will visit Nana en route.

Saturday was the homework, put away laundry, run around with the toads and frogs after the rain, resweep the deck because the rain brought down tons of leaves, kind of day. 

                            We're still doing this:

I remembered to take the camera with me to the bus stop since I wanted a mid-month picture of the kids each month to see changes over time. These were Friday morning:

And Friday after school looked like this:

However, Monday morning looks like this:

Well, as I mentioned, it is Monday. I guess I should cut them some slack.

At least there's this:

Anyway, Sunday we did church and I snuggled babies in the nursery and then we tried to find somewhere to buy tires for Pepe (because it's about that time) and all the tire shops were closed because it was Sunday. Oh well. So we got out the tractor, watched mice in the shed, mowed and picked up apples and sticks and walnuts and buckeyes, ate leftovers and got school clothes out and read books and enjoyed Grandmama being here...

Now our sheets are blowing in the breeze on the clotheslines, the poor dog has been brushed and de-matted half to death, and the kids are all at school. 

It's time for important stuff. Like, where are the bon bons?

Status Update

At least, I guess this is a status update, ha. I've had several things happen throughout the move which I'd wanted to blog about, but now that I sit down in relative peace I can't remember any of them. So we'll start with:

Preschool has begun for the Damonator. He loves it. Every day he wants to know when he goes. He likes to be reminded, "after lunch." He knows that he goes Monday through Thursday, and then he takes a break and goes back the next Monday. So far they've done a lot with the Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? The teachers even changed it into "Who Do You See?" and made books for each of the students with photos of classmates taken at orientation. Very cute way to learn names, I might add! He's over the moon about the small yellow trampoline with the handlebar that is in his room, and he loves snack. And the texture table. And the books. And the goodbye song at the end of the day. He loves school.

Liam the Lovebug has made some new friends thanks to Pokemon cards, though I was hoping we'd have skipped that particular fetish. Those were big when my cousin David was little. Who knew they'd endure? So not my thing. At any rate, his third grade teacher is very kind and calm and seems amused with him so far, which is wonderful. There have been a few skirmishes between boys, but I suppose that is to be expected with boys. He likes school and he loves to read, so I am counting my blessings big time.

Carrie is thrilled- thrilled- to be in school though she's not a fan of the early mornings. The first day she rode the bus she had to be on it by 6:45 AM! My heavens! They've since tweaked the route and she is now boarding at about 7:10, which is way better for our anti-earlybird. This morning she was blinking owlishly and mumbling about setting her alarm for 6:20 instead of 6:15. I told her she could set it for 6:30 if she'd move her butt once she got up, but she better keep it at 6:15 for a buffer if she's going to just sit and stare at her cereal bowl. We already do all that night-before stuff like getting out clothes for the next day, lunchbox at the ready if they're going to pack a lunch, backpack loaded, etc. Since she doesn't do hair/makeup/earrings/accessories, you'd think she'd be rolling out of bed at 6:45, but what can you do? You can throw a horse INTO the water trough, but you can't make it drink................

Dada says his commute (hehe) is almost exactly the same as it was from Beaverton to Portland all those many moons ago. I think that's funny! He's glad to be back from England where he spent all last week, and we're getting Stuff accomplished around the new house. Friday night the Richards crew came over and we had a small fire in our fire pit. Nina was spinning around in the yard, blissed out, and saying that perhaps because of this house she won't be afraid of bugs anymore. She had asked previously why we'd had to move, and I'd replied that we'd found our dream house. She toured it excitedly and claimed, "it is totally your dream house! I can see why you moved!" So that was gratifying, hehe. I think they'll be frequent visitors.

Dada cleaned out our gutters one weekend evening, which is going to be an ongoing battle until we can get leaf/ice guards on them. The kids have been collecting bins and buckets of buckeyes, and more buckeyes. We saw our first chipmunk yesterday and have been watching squirrels since we moved in. I've heard blue jays and cardinals and one woodpecker. Muggin needs to come over with her bird books and glasses so we can see who our neighbors are!

After the kids went to bed, we positioned and began filling two bookshelves in the living room. It was exciting to see old friends come out of boxes into their places of honor. I love books and would fill the whole house with them. We have a set of shelves in the "old lady room" (dubbed because of the wine colored carpet with roses on it) for kid books and a set in the "library" for grown ups, which include Stephen King, Max Lucado, Anne Rice, George R.R. Martin, Tolkien, Stieg Larsson, and plenty of others. I was giggling at how we have True Love by Robert Fulghum and the Princess Bride very close to The Road... you can't get much different in tastes or genres! I'm SO excited to see it come together. And yes, I know those are all supposed to be underlined, but I just don't feel like it...

Anyway, must go get some more Stuff accomplished before my dentist appointment and our library trip and lunch and preschool drop off. We're getting swamped with kid paperwork including photo package ordering forms, but I think since we have such a woodsy setting here at the new house that we'll just capture them in their element and have them printed ourselves. Have a wonderful week!

Christmas come again

 

Somebody got a new hat from Grandmama and we made him do Y-M-C-A, naturally. It doesn't stay on well, but he likes wearing it all over the house anyway.
 

Carrie got the camera, so these were taken by her.
 

 

 

I love how Damon snuggles in with his thumb when you read to him. He and Grandmama read wotsa books. ;)