My kids are playing so well today, I can't stand it! They've got the Power Rangers out, all over the living room floor, but it's the conversation that's cracking me up. Here's a snippet of what they're saying:
Aidan: "OK! Here come the Red Coats!"
Grace: "Huh?"
A: "The Red Coats! Watch out for the Red Coats, here they come!"
G: "Let's go to the mountains!"
A: "No, no, no -- watch out for the Red Coats! Get some help!"
G: "OK."
A: "Grace, here they come! Here come the Red Coats!"
G: "They're crocodiles!"
A: "No, Grace, they're Red Coats."
G: "Oh ... it's winter?"
A: "No, Grace, it's not 'red coats' ... It's 'RED Coats' ... see?"
G: "Oh." [pause] "Let's eat lunch."
A: "No lunch. We have to get the Red Coats."
G: "Stop that squeamishness!"
A: "No! Onward! We have an important mission!"
I don't know why ... this stuff just makes me laugh.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Precious Gifts
For not blogging much, I have managed to sneak in my third post today! :) I just received my digital proofs of the kids' "photo shoot" and couldn't resist posting them here. Oh, how I love these little ones ...
It's Nice to Be Missed
Over the past few days, I received more than one comment along these lines: "Hey, you haven't blogged much in a while. Why not?"
So true. It's not "writer's block" -- just life, I guess. Writing -- or the drive to do so -- can come in spurts. And right now any spurty energy I have is constantly directed elsewhere. So here's a nutshell view of what's going on in my corner of the globe:
- Grace, Grace, Grace: we're making progress! In the span of a month and a half, we have wiped our hands of our former doctor; we have interviewed new ones and wiped our hands of them too; we hit some brick walls and then found a few chinks to break through. We've learned more about clubfoot in one month than the entire three years put together. We decided to shoot for the moon -- or rather, Iowa -- and contacted Dr. Ponseti himself for help. While we had to forego the invitation for treatment in Iowa (for many reasons), we were relieved to receive a recommendation of a doctor who is a bit closer to home. Yes, travel is involved once more, but at least it's not as far as Iowa. It feels so good to have that decision made and behind us; it feels so good to finally begin to move forward.
So where are we now? Well, next Thursday the kids and I hop in the car for a road trip and plan on a fun sleep-over at the home of some friends. Friday morning Grace has her first appointment with her new doctor, where I'm sure we'll do a lot of talking and then she will get her first cast -- heavy plaster, full leg all the way up to her hip, both knee and foot bent at some pretty unnatural angles. It will be more than a challenge, as she will not be able to "walk" in the way that she knows. We'll see how she figures it all out. In the meantime, I'm looking into a pediatric wheelchair and walker for her, as well as acquiring a handicap tag for our car. Every little bit helps.
And then what? Ah, who knows. This relapse phase is truly a "wait and see" ordeal. She'll get a few casts, probably weekly (lots o' traveling and gas consumption, ugh!) and then we see how she responds. If she does well, then she'll need physical therapy and a brace for a year. If she doesn't do as well as we hope, then we're looking at surgery. But that's down the road a bit. I've got enough on my path right now than to start thinking about that.
- In just a few weeks' time, my boy will celebrate his 6th birthday. I keep forgetting about this, and I have a feeling it's going to sneak up on me. I'd better get on the ball -- he's a big boy now and won't let my inadequacies slide by so easily. Fooling him isn't easy anymore. :)
- Grace and potty training? Ain't happening.
- Don was rushed (or rather, rushed himself) to the ER after getting a gigantic piece of meat stuck in his esophagus. I'll spare the nasty details, but 12 hours after the initial lodging, he underwent a "procedure" to evict the offending food item. He's sore and his body is rebelling. Why? Because he was issued this command: eat only MUSH for 2 weeks. "Mush" and "Don" do not go well together. He's miserable, eating his pureed breakfast-lunch-dinner. Steak-and-potatoes-and veggies in a blender just don't satisfy like the real thing. Poor guy.
- I watched the Lord of the Rings Trilogy back to back in a 3-day marathon. I saw them all, a few years apart, way-back-when in the theaters, but immersing myself this way in Tolkien's masterpiece was ... other-worldly. Those battle scenes were myriad and exhausting to watch, but my goodness, what a story. It's pretty awesome.
- We made our annual trek to JCPenney for Grace's portrait, a tradition we started when the kids were born. Last year was horrible, as I had mentioned earlier. But this year was beyond delightful! Grace was just incredible, and to give credit where it's due, the photographer was a joy to work with, letting Grace do her own thing while she snapped away. The results were fantastic and utterly beautiful. Then we decided to do something new -- what the heck, throw both kids in there! What we witnessed was pure love in action. The kids smiled at each other, giggled, hugged, all while the photographer snapped away. We watched a perfect photo shoot in action, and I thought my heart would burst.
- I'm getting quite emotional about my boy starting school next month. We've been getting correspondence from the school now on a regular basis -- a nice introductory letter from his new teacher, a note from the principal, a list of the items we must purchase for him. We already bought a back-pack and lunch box (insulated bag, really) and I smiled at the rest of the list: 8-pack of crayons, 2 pencils, an art shirt, glue stick, etc. My boy will be gone all day ... all day, riding off for the first time on a bus. I will be shedding buckets of tears, you can bet on that.
Ahhhh ... yes. So this is why I haven't been blogging much. Life is life, I guess. My life is full ... and happy. Yes, happy. I am content with where I am. While I'm not thrilled about these medical issues taking up our time and concerns, they're here nonetheless and they will make our lives exciting, to say the least. I enjoy each and every day, and I feel truly blessed. Today is a good day -- maybe in part because I had the chance to blog and catch up. :) And now I depart once again, to put together a few sandwiches: peanut butter and jelly for Grace, and Aidan's "Special Sandwich," as he calls it -- a slice of ham, a slice of turkey, topped with a slice of cheese and placed in the toaster oven until lightly melted. He's a particular one. :)
So thanks for asking about my blog, and where I've been.
It's nice to be missed.
Life is mind-whirling.
But it's good.
So true. It's not "writer's block" -- just life, I guess. Writing -- or the drive to do so -- can come in spurts. And right now any spurty energy I have is constantly directed elsewhere. So here's a nutshell view of what's going on in my corner of the globe:
- Grace, Grace, Grace: we're making progress! In the span of a month and a half, we have wiped our hands of our former doctor; we have interviewed new ones and wiped our hands of them too; we hit some brick walls and then found a few chinks to break through. We've learned more about clubfoot in one month than the entire three years put together. We decided to shoot for the moon -- or rather, Iowa -- and contacted Dr. Ponseti himself for help. While we had to forego the invitation for treatment in Iowa (for many reasons), we were relieved to receive a recommendation of a doctor who is a bit closer to home. Yes, travel is involved once more, but at least it's not as far as Iowa. It feels so good to have that decision made and behind us; it feels so good to finally begin to move forward.
So where are we now? Well, next Thursday the kids and I hop in the car for a road trip and plan on a fun sleep-over at the home of some friends. Friday morning Grace has her first appointment with her new doctor, where I'm sure we'll do a lot of talking and then she will get her first cast -- heavy plaster, full leg all the way up to her hip, both knee and foot bent at some pretty unnatural angles. It will be more than a challenge, as she will not be able to "walk" in the way that she knows. We'll see how she figures it all out. In the meantime, I'm looking into a pediatric wheelchair and walker for her, as well as acquiring a handicap tag for our car. Every little bit helps.
And then what? Ah, who knows. This relapse phase is truly a "wait and see" ordeal. She'll get a few casts, probably weekly (lots o' traveling and gas consumption, ugh!) and then we see how she responds. If she does well, then she'll need physical therapy and a brace for a year. If she doesn't do as well as we hope, then we're looking at surgery. But that's down the road a bit. I've got enough on my path right now than to start thinking about that.
- In just a few weeks' time, my boy will celebrate his 6th birthday. I keep forgetting about this, and I have a feeling it's going to sneak up on me. I'd better get on the ball -- he's a big boy now and won't let my inadequacies slide by so easily. Fooling him isn't easy anymore. :)
- Grace and potty training? Ain't happening.
- Don was rushed (or rather, rushed himself) to the ER after getting a gigantic piece of meat stuck in his esophagus. I'll spare the nasty details, but 12 hours after the initial lodging, he underwent a "procedure" to evict the offending food item. He's sore and his body is rebelling. Why? Because he was issued this command: eat only MUSH for 2 weeks. "Mush" and "Don" do not go well together. He's miserable, eating his pureed breakfast-lunch-dinner. Steak-and-potatoes-and veggies in a blender just don't satisfy like the real thing. Poor guy.
- I watched the Lord of the Rings Trilogy back to back in a 3-day marathon. I saw them all, a few years apart, way-back-when in the theaters, but immersing myself this way in Tolkien's masterpiece was ... other-worldly. Those battle scenes were myriad and exhausting to watch, but my goodness, what a story. It's pretty awesome.
- We made our annual trek to JCPenney for Grace's portrait, a tradition we started when the kids were born. Last year was horrible, as I had mentioned earlier. But this year was beyond delightful! Grace was just incredible, and to give credit where it's due, the photographer was a joy to work with, letting Grace do her own thing while she snapped away. The results were fantastic and utterly beautiful. Then we decided to do something new -- what the heck, throw both kids in there! What we witnessed was pure love in action. The kids smiled at each other, giggled, hugged, all while the photographer snapped away. We watched a perfect photo shoot in action, and I thought my heart would burst.
- I'm getting quite emotional about my boy starting school next month. We've been getting correspondence from the school now on a regular basis -- a nice introductory letter from his new teacher, a note from the principal, a list of the items we must purchase for him. We already bought a back-pack and lunch box (insulated bag, really) and I smiled at the rest of the list: 8-pack of crayons, 2 pencils, an art shirt, glue stick, etc. My boy will be gone all day ... all day, riding off for the first time on a bus. I will be shedding buckets of tears, you can bet on that.
Ahhhh ... yes. So this is why I haven't been blogging much. Life is life, I guess. My life is full ... and happy. Yes, happy. I am content with where I am. While I'm not thrilled about these medical issues taking up our time and concerns, they're here nonetheless and they will make our lives exciting, to say the least. I enjoy each and every day, and I feel truly blessed. Today is a good day -- maybe in part because I had the chance to blog and catch up. :) And now I depart once again, to put together a few sandwiches: peanut butter and jelly for Grace, and Aidan's "Special Sandwich," as he calls it -- a slice of ham, a slice of turkey, topped with a slice of cheese and placed in the toaster oven until lightly melted. He's a particular one. :)
So thanks for asking about my blog, and where I've been.
It's nice to be missed.
Life is mind-whirling.
But it's good.
I am in LOVE!
Yes.
This is correct.
Isn't this the most BEAUTIFUL thing you've ever seen?
I am in love ... with my "new" (thanks, Craigslist!) dishwasher.
This is correct.
Isn't this the most BEAUTIFUL thing you've ever seen?
I am in love ... with my "new" (thanks, Craigslist!) dishwasher.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Saturday Snapshots
A low-key day today ... somewhat, anyway. Saturdays are usually catch-up days. This morning we are getting Grace's portrait taken at JC Penney -- a tradition we started with each of our kids when they born: one baby picture, then one taken each year. Last year's episode was a complete and utter disaster, so I am praying for much smoother sailing today! I'm also hoping to see if I can get a shot of both kids together, something we haven't done yet (at least not professionally). Aidan has this thing of feeling left out, so this might placate him.
I took a few fun, random photos recently and wanted to post them, just for fun -- to remind myself that in all of the chaos and weighty times of life, there is indeed quite a bit of fun to be had.
I took a few fun, random photos recently and wanted to post them, just for fun -- to remind myself that in all of the chaos and weighty times of life, there is indeed quite a bit of fun to be had.
Every day can be Halloween
No comment necessary
Channeling Elvis ... or ... something ...
Would you believe one little girl could make this one big mess?
Yup.
Yup.
Friday, August 1, 2008
"Friday Five" of the outdoor variety
Once again, a fun "Friday Five" borrowed from my friend's blog -- perfect for these carefree summer days ...
1. Did you go to sleep away camp, or day camp, as a child? Wish you could? Or sometimes wish you hadn't?
The whole "sleep away" camp thing was never really done when I was kid, or now even. I really don't anyone who does this kind of thing in our area. Don went to them, however, in the Poconos -- basketball camp, Bible camp, etc. However, when I was a child I attended our church group called "Calvinettes" (yes, we CRC-ers come up with great names!) -- kind of like the Girl Scouts, but within our CRC denomination. Once a year, if I'm not mistaken, there would be a 1- or 2-night getaway at a camp of some kind, once you reached a certain age. I know I went one year; I don't think I ever went back. I HATED IT. WITH A PASSION. For those of you who know me -- and know me well -- this shouldn't be a surprise. Homesick? Yes. Having a desire to hang out with catty little girls? No. The older girls were horrible, scaring us younger ones on purpose -- telling stories of girls who got kidnapped in the woods, the whole coke-and-aspirin, or coke-and-pop rocks death stories, etc. I cried when I left; I cried when my parents picked me up. I think my dad felt sorry for me, and missed me, because he gave me a gift when I got back: a necklace with a little heart pendant, complete with a rainbow and tiny fake diamond. I still have that necklace in my dresser -- for Grace, some day.
2. How about camping out? Dream vacation, nightmare, or somewhere in between?
When I was a baby my parents owned a pop-up trailer, and for the first couple of years of my life we would go camping. I don't remember any of that, other than seeing myself on my dad's old slides, usually covered with mosquito bites. They sold the camper when they discovered my oldest brother, Steve, was allergic to ... well, everything outdoors. That was that.
Camping as an adult? Love it. Don and I used to go camping quite a bit, before we had kids. We had some fabulous experiences and adventures, but we had a consistent run of bad luck when it came to our actual camping location. Smokey Mountains: neighbors to a group of drunken men who sat out and drank until 5:00 a.m. Kentucky: neighbors to a group of drunken men (although that time we asked if we could trade our camp site, which we did). You get the idea.
3. Have you ever worked as a camp counselor, or been to a camp for your denomination for either work or pleasure?
Camp Counselor? Nope. I don't like camps, remember?
4. Most dramatic memory of camp, or camping out?
Ohhhh ... so many. Smokies: not only did we have raucous drunken men next door, but the skies opened up in a dramatic downpour which lasted for hours on end. Then we spent the next day hiking the mountains -- 5,000 ft and climbing swiftly -- only to run out of water. Thankfully we found a hidden spring of the freshest, most delicious ice cold water ... Beautiful. And the scenery was unsurpassed. Kentucky: After moving our campsite to a more remote location, I got soooo sick. I believe it was a combination of many hours of driving (I don't do long distance driving too well) plus canned chili for dinner. Later, after more driving and another campsite, we found a map and plotted our hiking course -- a 6-hour hike, over a rope bridge (yikes!), lots of fascinating sights, ending up at a gorgeous waterfall. Turns out the map was ... WRONG. Rope bridge, yes (scary!). Fascinating sights? Only mile after mile of leafy terrain. Humidity enough to rival the Amazon. Horse flies (or some biting variety). Dead end after dead end. And -- no waterfall.
5. What is your favorite camp song or songs? Bonus points if you link to a recording or video.
OK, hate camp. Hate it. So "camp songs" sort of fall into that category as well. I can give you a list of all the camp songs I despise, beginning with "It Only Takes a Spark." :)
We had a fabulous, 4-person tent for all of these years. But then as we were packing up our stuff for our final move from PA back to NJ over a year ago, we came across our tent in the basement of the rectory. Something so hideous HAD DIED IN IT! We just threw the tent out. Maybe someday we'll try it all again ...
That's What Love Is
Have you ever wondered if there's a way to measure the love that you have for your child? During those days when a bad attitude prevails, when the scrapping seems nonstop, when you need to leave the presence of your child or else something regretfully might be said or done ... In those moments I think we take our little ones quite for granted. Sure we love them, but in that moment?
So just how can you possibly measure the love that you have for them? Of course there's no real measure, but you can get a glimpse.
Just lose him (or her) for a while.
I felt that this morning. Aidan has been attending VBS (Vacation Bible School) at a neighborhood church this past week, picked up and dropped off every day by Jacie and her kids. He loves it, and practically leaps out the door when Jacie arrives. I'm so happy to see him go, to see his enthusiasm. It makes me smile.
This morning -- the last day -- he was all ready to go. "I'm going to take a peek out on the porch, to see if Miss Jacie's here," he said to me. OK -- fine. I was finishing up a morning chore.
A few minutes passed and I thought of something I wanted to tell Aidan. I yelled his name but was met with silence. I yelled again. Nothing. I went out onto the front porch, figuring he just couldn't hear me.
He wasn't there.
I yelled his name again a few times -- like that would suddenly make him appear from behind a chair or something stupid like that. My heart began to hurt and thud with more force. It didn't take long for the tears to come.
Where is he?! Why isn't he on the porch?!
The rational side of me -- the one that was trying to tell me that Jacie probably came and he just left without saying good-bye -- was drowned out by the panic. My boy, my boy ... where is he?!
I called Jacie's cell phone, but it must have been turned off. I left a tearful message.
I called her house but no one answered. I left another tearful message.
I tried to talk to Grace -- what was I thinking? She's not conversational -- at least not in the way that I wanted her to be at that moment.
Grace, did Aidan go out the door?
Yes.
Grace, are you sure Aidan left?
Yes.
Who did he go with?
Yes.
Did he go with Miss Jacie?
Yes.
Did he go with Pastor Andy?
Yes.
Sheesh -- talk about futile. I was in full-fledged crying mode now and could not, at all, calm down. 10 minutes passed. 15 minutes. Minutes where all I could manage was to hold the phone and look out the window -- but at what was beyond me. What in the world did I expect to see, anyway?
At the 20 minute mark, something logical inside of me kicked in. I found the phone number for the church online and called them. The secretary answered, I cried and garbled out his name. She went to look for him and sure enough, he was there. Would I like to speak with him? she asked kindly. No, there's no point. Not now, anyway. You can bet we'll have quite a conversation when he comes home, though.
Lose your child for a few minutes, and you'll face some kind of test of your love.
Mine flowed like a raging river, panic and all.
So just how can you possibly measure the love that you have for them? Of course there's no real measure, but you can get a glimpse.
Just lose him (or her) for a while.
I felt that this morning. Aidan has been attending VBS (Vacation Bible School) at a neighborhood church this past week, picked up and dropped off every day by Jacie and her kids. He loves it, and practically leaps out the door when Jacie arrives. I'm so happy to see him go, to see his enthusiasm. It makes me smile.
This morning -- the last day -- he was all ready to go. "I'm going to take a peek out on the porch, to see if Miss Jacie's here," he said to me. OK -- fine. I was finishing up a morning chore.
A few minutes passed and I thought of something I wanted to tell Aidan. I yelled his name but was met with silence. I yelled again. Nothing. I went out onto the front porch, figuring he just couldn't hear me.
He wasn't there.
I yelled his name again a few times -- like that would suddenly make him appear from behind a chair or something stupid like that. My heart began to hurt and thud with more force. It didn't take long for the tears to come.
Where is he?! Why isn't he on the porch?!
The rational side of me -- the one that was trying to tell me that Jacie probably came and he just left without saying good-bye -- was drowned out by the panic. My boy, my boy ... where is he?!
I called Jacie's cell phone, but it must have been turned off. I left a tearful message.
I called her house but no one answered. I left another tearful message.
I tried to talk to Grace -- what was I thinking? She's not conversational -- at least not in the way that I wanted her to be at that moment.
Grace, did Aidan go out the door?
Yes.
Grace, are you sure Aidan left?
Yes.
Who did he go with?
Yes.
Did he go with Miss Jacie?
Yes.
Did he go with Pastor Andy?
Yes.
Sheesh -- talk about futile. I was in full-fledged crying mode now and could not, at all, calm down. 10 minutes passed. 15 minutes. Minutes where all I could manage was to hold the phone and look out the window -- but at what was beyond me. What in the world did I expect to see, anyway?
At the 20 minute mark, something logical inside of me kicked in. I found the phone number for the church online and called them. The secretary answered, I cried and garbled out his name. She went to look for him and sure enough, he was there. Would I like to speak with him? she asked kindly. No, there's no point. Not now, anyway. You can bet we'll have quite a conversation when he comes home, though.
Lose your child for a few minutes, and you'll face some kind of test of your love.
Mine flowed like a raging river, panic and all.
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