Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Life In the ER As Seen By a Two Year Old

Well it was strep throat. That’s what turned out to be wrong with Buddy. The sad thing is one of the first things they did at the ER was the strep screen. That’s right, before the 2 vials of blood out of the tiny little inside bend of his arm. And before the X-ray that, though it didn’t hurt, did frighten the unknowing little boy just a bit. I think it is a bit difficult to explain to a two and a half year old that an x-ray does not hurt after the previous two things have just taken place. I can only imagine what must have been going through his mind during the x-ray.

They say you won’t feel a thing despite the fact that they have just stuck a life size q-tip down your throat and gagged you after mommy and daddy have specifically told you not to put things down your own throat no matter how funny the gagging sound may be. And when the last time you saw a life size q-tip it was used to gather information from way up in your brain to be used later for scientific experiments (and you know this to be true because no matter how many times the doctor and nurse say this is a flu screening your brain felt just fine before they stuck the q-tip in there and now you have the flu and your brain hurts.) Then they wrap a giant rubber band around your upper arm so tight you no longer feel your fingers and granted you think it is fun to cut the circulation to your fingers off at home with your sister’s hair bands it is not near as funny now. You are wondering if these people in the emergency room grew up without mommies and daddies who could have taught them not to play with rubber bands and q-tips. Later of course (when you are 2 years old and at home all recovered from the trauma of ER and the yucky ness of strep throat) you wonder why your mom has to buy those lousy regular size q-tips and can’t spring for the life size ones. You also wonder why some of these items were not included in the doctor’s kit you received from Nana and Papa for Christmas, it sure would have been fun to show your brother and sister what REALLY goes on at the hospital.

Once your fingers have gone completely numb the poorly raised nurse shoves a needle into your arm and starts draining you of your blood. Yes you might be okay with giving it up willingly for a face first dive off of the porch into a pile of sticks or a casual ride through the yard attached to a jump rope that your sister is pulling along behind her but this women is taking it for no good reason. You won’t have one good story to tell for this loss of blood. And apparently the nurse was also never taught not to lie because for all the boasts that “this will only hurt for a minute” it still hurts 2 hours later when your mother unknowingly picks you up by the arms to get you ready for bed and yep, sure enough the pain is still there right under mommies curled fingers!

So here you are draped in a led apron standing in the middle of a dark room being instructed to stand perfectly still. Hands raised above your head in surrender (because they told you to) Daddy holding a serious expression. And a proven liar, who is, herself not stupid enough to stay in the same room, is assuring you that you won’t feel a thing it’s just “taking your picture”. Mommy may be a little obsessive compulsive when it comes to posing you for those “candid” shots but you never found yourself in this position with the women at home that you know only lies to you about whether or not she is the reason there are no more cookies for dessert. “And besides lady,” you want to snap back, “when was the last time someone draped you with a lead apron? This isn’t too comfortable.” Although you realize if you say this much daddy will be wise to the fact that you can say a lot more than you normally do and may expect actual answers from you when foreign objects get flushed down the toilet. So you unwillingly surrender but you DO NOT smile for the camera, this is where you draw the line and before you know it it’s all over. You are back in Daddy’s arms listening to the “good news” that it is a normal case of strep throat and you will be good as new after a round of antibiotics. You wonder if it was the giant q-tip, the lack of blood flow to the fingers, the blood that would have taken you 15 scraped knees, 4 bloody noses, and 10000000s of sticker burs to come up with yourself that let them know your throat hurt. You are wishing someone had just bothered to ask you that in the first place. Non-the less you are offered a cookie for being so brave. (You don’t have the heart to tell Daddy you were literally peeing your pants every few minutes from sheer terror.) This time you get one before mommy gets a hold of them so it is a sure thing!

Bella started running a fever this afternoon about 103.3 we skipped the ER and asked our doctor to call in an antibiotic for her too. Buddy may find that to be a bit unfair!

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Wails From the ER

My older son is presently at the Emergency room with his daddy. He has had a high fever all day that stopped responding to Tylenol and Motrin, didn’t even go down much with a lukewarm bath. They have been there for about 2 1⁄2 hours. My husband just called, I was hoping to say he was on his way home and everything was fine. Instead he asked if I could talk to Buddy. This is how our conversation went.

“Hi Buddy”
“Are you feeling okay buddy?”
“What’s the matter?”

If you live anywhere in the SW Texas area I apologize that you had to hear this again as I am sure you already heard Buddy’s end of the conversation from inside your homes.

After that daddy got back on the phone.

So far they have done a strep culture and taken a couple of vials of blood. They are now awaiting a chest X-ray! I am confident were I in my 2 year olds tiny crocs I too would be saying “AWAHAA WAHAHA AHH WA!”

I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something.

A Note To My Family

I spent the past couple of days with my parents. My sister had a baby shower on Sunday and I thought it would be easier to attend solo. My husband, we’ll refer to him as Saint N, kept all three of our little munchkins Saturday night, all day Sunday, and most of Monday! Whenever I called to check in everyone sounded great! In fact the “saint” called a few times just to report little things that had blessed him about the kids throughout the weekend. Our oldest continues to Awe us with her acknowledgement of and curiosity about the Lord. On Sunday morning as my husband was trying to get the kids all ready for church (That’s right he took them to church all by himself. I told you, saint!) Bella was attempting to put on her dress shoes by herself and was having some trouble. Occasionally this causes an outburst of frustration with herself since she is a bit strong willed and independent. This Sunday morning however she came up with a better solution to sighing and grumbling. “Maybe I can ask God to help me put my shoes on.” She stated, and then went on. “Jesus, Jesus, He’s not coming.” She declared in exasperation. My husband, not only a saint but a very smart fella too, told her that sometimes God answers prayers by sending other people to help us and asked if he could help her put on her shoes. That was just one of many little “proud moments” he had over the last few days.

I missed my family very much while I was gone and was glad to be back. Not that I did not enjoy spending time with my parents, sister and sister-in-law. I did!

On Saturday night I was spending some time with my sil. She has 5 children who were at home with their daddy. She asked me around 9:30 if I missed my kids. I told her I did and we both remarked on how funny it was that we try to “get away” for a while and all we can do is wish we were holding one of them or could hear them laughing. They would have all been sound asleep for a couple of hours by that time of night but there is just something about knowing you are close by.

A note to my family regarding your time away from mommy:

Bella, thank you for making mommy proud this weekend and continuing to teach me to cry out to Jesus instead of sulking and “grouching”.

Buddy, Thank you for the great big hug when I got home. It made mommy feel so loved and missed.

Hoss, I’m so sorry your tummy hurt you while I was gone. I am glad you are feeling better now. Thank you for sharing your new birthday toys with your brother and sister.

N, thank you for being my hero and allowing me to do fun things while you brave a weekend alone with dynamite on caffeine (also know as our children!) I love you!

For some funny stuff visist

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

One Comment

In response to my earlier post had a few words of her own to say:

Oh, pity click me will you, BB? I’ll show you...Bring it on, babe, because as we say in the boondocks it has been broughten! Oh yeah! We ain’t got no book learning, but we know how to lay the smack down on the butts of Bloggin’ mama’s. Uh-huh.

All I have to say rambler... "Lord have mercy on the girl from down in the boondocks." ;0)

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Thanks You’ve Created A Monster in an effort to give the folks a list of the funniest blogs to find on line has managed to bring out every ugly side I never knew I had. A pity seeker, trying to gain clicks over to the site to increase my stats… I have found I am quite competitive. Trying to climb my way up the comical ladder to achieve ha-ha status.

I was once a friend to the fellow blogger… following the golden blogger rule like a good girl. Click on other’s humor-blog links, as you would have them click on yours. Until one day when I found myself clicking for a comrade who I pitied. She was in the high hundreds in her score; I had made my way up to number 92 closing in on that coveted number 1 slot. (Look out 15 minute lunch only 2000 clicks to go.) What do you think happened next? This rambler from the Boondocks who I had “pity” clicked flew right past me and is now in the race for her life to make it to the front page. Making me want to take back my click and pull her one slot closer to me.

Then, if you can believe it she had the nerve to add me to her blog site as a "good read". Obviously in a subconscious effort to make me regret my previous green-eyed monster feelings and feel good about helping her work her way up. Well, I don’t feel good. I feel shame. Shame for griping to my husband every night that little miss is now “this much” ahead of me. Shame for emailing friends and family and asking them to go click on my link (yep I did that), and shame for making sure that every time I mention in this post I include a special code so that maybe you will click on and that will increase my status. Thank you for showing me the flaws in myself that I need to change. I don’t plan on changing… I will continue to beg and plead for clicks, but at least I know where I stand.

Well what are you waiting for? Click

Thursday, April 17, 2008


Once upon a time not too long ago I did not think there was anything that could creep me out more than a horde of ants invading my kitchen, closets, bathroom and ultimately conspiring to take over. Then I met Chester the mouse and his half a dozen or more cousins, aunts, uncles, etc. and the Ick factor was raised just a bit. And so I with the death of Chester, May He rest in Peace, thought all things disgusting were behind me. And they were. Now, it seems that the truly grotesque are living just over head, and upside down… that’s right… we have a bat. He lives in our garage, right outside the door in fact. Eww, eww, and eww again!

For REALLY disgusting stuff check out

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

All By Myself

I had an all by myself outing yesterday! That’s right, I went out… just me, no kids. I took the 20-minute drive to the neighboring town to Wal-Mart. I needed it, I have known for a few weeks now that I needed this. Not because I was frustrated with the kids. It had just been awhile and I was ready for some good old “me time”. It was quite the little adventure.

I excitedly got into the car! I had kissed everyone good-bye and left the house without an infant car seat balanced in one hand or a tiny two year-old gripping the other. It took less than a minute to get into the car. No climbing into the back like a contortionist. Trying to reach across seats to buckle this seatbelt or pull down this handle. Just like that I was in and I was off… almost. I was just about to back out of the garage when I had to get back out, open the back door and like a contortionist, reach across seats to pull down the restraining bar on my son’s car seat. That’s right, no children with me and I still found myself having to buckle up a car seat. That great big bar that usually hold’s Buddy in place was raised up and obstructing my view. The only way to get it out of the way was to buckle it in place. Then I was officially off. I was in the car a good 5 minutes singing along to “kiddy” songs before I realized. “Wait a second there is no one under the age of 23… okay, okay no one under the age of 27 in the car, I could listen to grown up music!” I am not even sure where my own CDs are anymore so I opted for the radio. My options where country, no thank you! Or Spanish, no gracias! I found one other station coming in clearly and settled on that. I am still not sure what it was I was listening to but I do know that at one point a very “masterpiece theater” sounding voice came over the air waves to read a poem that I did not understand. I do know it was not taken from any of the Dr. Seuss books we own. Something about love or friendship… I don’t know. I soon tuned out the voices on the radio and subconsciously began my own radio show. My mind raced through every childish song I could think of. I laughed to myself as I made up a new version to one of my own favorite classics. It sounds something like a broken record and summarizes the last four years of my life.

N and Sarah sittin’ in a tree
First comes love
Then comes marriage
Then come a baby in a baby carriage
Then come a baby in a baby carriage
Then come a baby in a baby carriage

I laughed myself silly over that one. I realize now it is really not that funny but I can console myself with the fact that at least my children were not in the car to witness my temporary mental melt down.

Before I knew it I was at “Mart” as my children call it. I am not sure how many times I circled the parking lot looking for an empty spot next to a cart corral I lost count. It was not until after I had congratulated myself for having found one and parked the car that I realized I could have parked wherever I wanted.

I was up and down the aisles, through the checkout line, and back in the car in the time it would have taken me to get the kids unloaded from the car and into a cart. I found myself tempted to pull a few things from the shelves, yell at the top of my lungs once or twice and pee right in front of the potty just so Wal-Mart would know that a representative from our family had been there. (I did all but the last one. That one was just too much for me.)

Back in the car I decided that plain old silence would suit me just fine for the trip home. You want to know how I spent my precious silent moments? Thinking about my three sweet children at home and crying over them. I am so proud of the little people they are becoming. I called to mind countless little things they had done that day to make me smile and fill my heart with laughter.

Not to say I won’t have another outing alone sometime. I think I am a better mom for it. But I found myself appreciating all the time I had with them today, all the little things. And I am now ready to jump back in there for another round!

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

What does it say about me when one of my very few friends sends me this?

Me And You Is Friends ...

You Smile, I Smile .

You Hurt, I Hurt ....

You Cry, I Cry ....

You Jump Off A Bridge .

I Gonna Miss You

actually I thought it was pretty cute!!

Monday, April 14, 2008

Will Work For Peanuts

I use to get seriously annoyed with those ‘get rich quick schemers’. You know the type… always bouncing from one idea to the next. Never really following through with one before, “oh wait let’s see if this one will work.” They have always driven me nuts!

Well guess what I’ve turned out to be? No I have not become so desperate that I will move from trend to trend in hopes of making the next million. Absolutely not! As it turns out I have managed to sink much lower than this. I ashamedly wear the title of ‘make some measly chump change no matter how insane the method sounds plotter.’ Want to know what else? It aint workin’ for me. Over the course of nearly 30 days my adsence ads have tallied a grand total of (drum roll please) ……… .05cents! (If anyone has any ideas for how I can spend this mad money I am open to suggestions.) This is not the first of many of my crazy adventures for loose pocket change and I’m still brain storming. So I humbly make my apologies to you get rich quick schemers who have actually worked hard enough to earn a pretty penny. And will go on living my shameful life as the mother who worked a 70 hour work week and was able to buy her kids something from the gum ball machine… for all three of them to share!

Saturday, April 12, 2008

I Can't Say That Enough

My husband and I have really been trying to stay on top of disciplining our kids lately. We have let a few things go for far too long and it is time to get them reeled back in. Usually I hate it when we have done this because I feel like a jerk for suddenly correcting them for things they have been getting away with. It’s really not fair to them and it is because of my own lack of discipline. However this has been an extremely pleasant experience. The kid’s attitudes have been wonderful and I have found that the more opportunities there are to correct there are even double the opportunities to acknowledge their good behavior. I love to watch their little faces light up with a “good job sweetie” or a “I’m so glad you remembered to say please buddy!” You can see the pride all over their faces! A few nights ago as I was getting the kids ready for bed my oldest had done something, I don’t remember what, particularly exceptional. I was somewhat distracted with the bedtime routine and so I didn’t really comment much on it. Not in a whiny voice or with even a hint of rejection in her tone Bella politely asked, “Can you say you’re proud of me?” I absolutely told her I was proud of her! I hope I am still remembering to tell my kids those kinds of things often when they are fifteen and sixteen. I am sure they will not be asking me to tell them at that age but I know they will need to hear it even more often.

Anytime my kids are “playing mommy or daddy” all I hear is “now why are you in trouble? Don’t do that again, do you understand me?” They discipline them and scold them. Their “kids seem to always be in trouble. I NEVER hear them saying such sweet things like. “I love you, I’m so proud of you. You did such a good job…” If I stop and listen my kids teach me so much about myself. In the eyes of my children I have to say, I’m a ‘meany-head!

Thursday, April 10, 2008

The Filing Cabinet

Today I did some filing. Some mental filing that is. I have been furiously trying to clean my house this past week and I guess this “nesting overflowed into my brain. I put each little event of the day into tidy little files. I will share a few of them with you now.

• My 2 year old, Buddy got corrected for saying dang it, his older sister responded by saying, “I didn’t say dang it, ladies don’t say dang it. Buddy piped up with “Yep, just only mommy and daddy say it.

File that under:
If I want my son to think I am lady I should put a clamp on my potty mouth.

• My little girl triumphantly exclaimed that when she gets bigger she can tell her babies no and they will say wahhh, wahhh, wahhh. And then she let out quite the wicked little laugh.

We’ll put that one under:
Perhaps I should let her boss her little brothers around now and then, just to get it out of her system a little bit.

•My answer to Bella’s pleas to do something extra special is often times, “When you get bigger maybe you can…”

Which I will now be filing under:
Apparently I must be careful what I promise.

(Since when she finished getting herself completely dressed I exclaimed. “Good job, you are such a big girl!” She answered with such certainty. “Yea!!! Now I can drink coffee because I am bigger)

• I received a critique for a story I had submitted for review to a writers group I am a part of. The suggestion was as follows: “Nice article; I especially like the last line. Might help if it was a little clearer (less assumed humor). But seems good.”

This one I put right where it belonged:
Maybe I’m not as funny as I think I am.

Kids should not be allowed to go to the bathroom in pairs.

When your two year old asks if he can flush the potty when you have accompanied him to the bathroom to help him take care of his business. He really just wants to flush the potty. When he accompanies his 3-year-old sister to the bathroom, asks to flush the potty and after the flush you hear a lot of giggling. What he really means is can I flush the potty and then stick my hand in there and watch it swirl!

The file is full; I’m putting a lock on the cabinet and calling it a day!

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

I'm Losing It

Last night I had a terrible dream. I was trapped in a world where pictures where merely letters and symbols strewn together. A world where, to everyone but me, the letters rss feeder url made since. In this bizarre world everywhere I looked to find answers just led me down a dark and scary path toward more questions.

This morning I awoke to find that indeed none of this was a dream and I AM trapped in this terrifying place that leaves me confused and feeling like an idiot. Heeeeeeelp me, before I get lost in this cyber world never to be seen or heard from again!

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Are You Smarter Than a Three Year Old? (Apparently I Am Not)

Last night my daughter, Bella, was sitting on her bed looking at books. In particular a book about the Easter story. Studying the page of Jesus on a cross, she asked, “Mommy, did Jesus die?”

I felt my heart begin to beat a little faster as I realized, this was it, my first chance to “witness” to one of my children about the awesome sacrifice Jesus made for us. I decided to keep it simple; after all she is only three. I knew this was just the first seed being planted but I could see my bright little girl coming to a personal knowledge Jesus as her Lord and Savior at a very young age. It was up to me to make sure I got it right anytime she had questions about God. So I gently explained, “Yes, He did die. He died so that you, Buddy, Hoss and Mommy and Daddy could live a good life because he loves us so much.”

She looked deep in thought for a moment and I realized I might have made her sad thinking that some one else had to die so she could live a happy life. To ease her mind I went on. “But you know what? He’s not dead anymore! He came back to life and he is just fine now!”

Looking up from her book for the first time (her eyes had still been scanning the same picture of this man hanging on a cross looking to be in pretty bad shape) Bella said very matter of fact, “No, I think He just died.” She pointed at the picture, completely convinced.

All I could do was chuckle. I realized. It is certainly my husband’s and my job to teach our children the beautiful truth about a God that loves us so much. But that is all I can do. Talk to them about the Lord and then back up and let God reveal himself to them when they are ready to see the truth.

Whew, that certainly takes some pressure off of me!

Friday, April 4, 2008

Today I Grieve

Many of you know that my mother-in-law died tragically in a car accident on March 17th. It was obviously very sudden and devastating and I have watched almost helplessly as my husband has mourned her loss these past few weeks. I too have felt the loss but not as violently. I grieved at the hospital for my husband as he was suddenly orphaned at 29 years old.

I grieved at the funeral for my children - over the absolute want they would eventually never know because of their young age. DeAnna, my mother-in-law was a Grandmother. She did not just live to be “Noni”. Since living was not something much in her control. I believe these last few years she woke herself each morning to be Noni. It was the essence of who she was. They were such fortunate children to have been a part of her life. I wish they were old enough to always feel that.

Today though, I grieved for myself. I felt my very own part of her absence. She was everywhere in my home today. In the countless number of books she has given my children these last three years. I saw her when I saw bunk beds, sheets, and blankets she’d purchased for my oldest two this past Christmas. I saw DeAnna on my walls, and centerpieces as I recalled how she always complimented the way I decorated.

Before today I had felt regret for the way I had sometimes treated her. I was horrible to her in the beginning. Not in the things I said to her but in the things I did not say. I know she wanted to spend more time with me, deeply desired to get to know me. But for some reason my pride would not allow it. I was not cruel to her, just sometimes indifferent.

Since her death I have had feelings of remorse for the way I had used her. She was always ready and willing to watch our kids on a moments notice when we lived closer and as often as she could more recently with the distance between us. Oh how little I appreciated that compared to how I should have. I knew I had a good thing there. I told her often how much I appreciated it but I don’t think I really felt the full weight of the sacrifice of her own time. I didn’t stop long enough to think about it before.

My husband and I have expressed at length how much we regret not reading more of what she wrote while she was alive. We have poured over it since she’s been gone. She was a phenomenal writer and we only knew a small extent of that before. What a treasure her writing has been to us now though.

All of these thoughts I have dealt with and accepted over the course of nearly three weeks. God blessed our relationship tremendously the past six months and we had become good friends during her frequent visits to our house. That is how I am remembering our relationship.

This time all I felt was a lacking, a loneliness. I have lost my mother-in-law, my friend, someone with a treasure full of wisdom that I could have gleaned from. I feel it sharply this loss! And today I grieve.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

The Ants Go Marching On, With a Chip On Their Back, Look at That!

One of the biggest reasons we moved 6 months ago just 3 blocks down the street after having just moved 300 miles across Texas six months before that was because we had a huge and very serious ant problem. These were not just a few ants climbing around on a piece of potato left haphazardly under the table after last week’s meal. These were ants attacking the food on the stove while the family was still in the dining room eating. Ants on clean laundry that you have just folded and laid down on what you know was an ant free table when you started folding clothes. Ants with tools that hack their way into a jar of peanut butter in the pantry with it’s tightly closed lid. These were some sort of metamorphosed insect with brains and powers beyond any human understanding and I decided I was not too proud to say, “You win crazy mutant ants, I’m out of here.”

So we moved into our ant free home and have been enjoying an ant free existence… until now.

After two hours on the sofa watching O.C. reruns last night I needed to stretch out. I sprawled out on the floor and found myself face to face with tiny little ants swarming the carpet. The vacuum cleaner was in the baby’s room and I did not want to disturb him so my husband got a paper towel and began to pick them up one by one. He got what he could find and I decided I had stretched enough and opted for my perch on the couch once again. Though I still felt tiny little ant legs crawling up and down my arms and legs. There were of course no ants anywhere on me, I know from the 3 no’s and 1 dirty look I received from N every time I asked him to check me over just one more time. He did tell me when we got in bed later that he could see potato chip crumbs moving conspicuously across the carpet for the rest of the evening. A sad connotation on our family’s eating habits, when the food seeking pests find more tempting morsels on the living room floor than in the kitchen. More time spent at TV trays then around the dining room table I guess.

This summer I will fight the good fight and I will not be forced to leave my home despite their hostile takeover attempts.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

A Great Day

Today! Wednesday! The day that makes the rest of the weekday seem, well, bearable for us some weeks! It’s the day we leave our tiny town of 1,701 excuses me, 1,706 thanks to our arrival one year ago. And travel to the big city… population 7,897, for story time at the public library!

We started this weekly trip 24 miles east of home after we had been living here about 6 months. We had just moved into a new house. Making this the third move in 15 months, second in 6 months. We were sitting out on the back porch, just Bella, Buddy, and me. Our only neighbor on either side of us is a tiny doctors office open just a couple of days a week. As we were sitting, two ladies left out the side door of the building and made their way to their car. Bella pointed in excited haste and exclaimed, “Look mommy, people!”

Then and there I decided. By golly my children where going to come face to face with real live, in the flesh, actual people if I had change out of these sweat pants I had been living in for 6 months and take them out myself.

We have made some wonderful friends there at the library, some of which we are even on a first name basis with. There is, ‘the other Buddy’, ‘Jacob, you remember when he pushed me?’ (These are actual names, I kid you not. My kids get it right every time.). ‘Bailey, you remember when he pushed me in the swing, (blush, blush, giggle, giggle), and ‘the baby’. Yes, these have become our closest personal friends and every week we go to the library to sing songs, listen to stories, and if we are lucky we go to “macdonals” afterwards and play with our new friends and their mommies. Today was no exception… it was the whole deal, macdonals and all. I had the privilege of being at one end of two picnic style tables pushed together. I was feeding Hoss, the 10 month old crawling stomach. Having a very stimulating, albeit, slightly garbled conversation about french fries and I want to say, gorillas?. (I’m not sure how would you interpret gorrara?) While all the other mommies enjoyed a very boring grown up conversation at their end of the table about the problem with mothers-in-law!

I have to say as much as I am enjoying getting to know a few people who are old enough to drink from a cup with out looking like they just got off a ride at the water park and who can go to the bathroom without announcing to the entire room first that they need to go poo-poo. I would not trade the two toothed, slobbery jargoning of my sweet little boy for that conversation about he “joys” we get to experience as mature adults ever. Yes, Wednesdays are great days!

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Question of the Day... Again

Today was pretty uneventful. My husband came in to say that incase Buddy (our middle child) said he threw up he really had just coughed with water in his mouth. Then N was out the door for work. While helping the older 2 kids get dressed a few minutes later Buddy did, indeed throw up. Water… everywhere, since that is all he had on his stomach at that point. Bella, my oldest, had to know what was happening even though she had just witnessed the entire show from her seat on the bed. Though it was not the elite front row seat you know like the preferred seats at Sea World where after a hot day in the sun you want to be right there in front to get thoroughly drenched. Nope, that was the seat I had been fortunate enough to snag this morning.

Bella began with her line of questioning. It is like a loop that plays all day long with a few alterations depending on the event that has just taken place. You moms will recognize the dialog.

“What did Buddy do?”
“He threw up.”
“His water?”
“Yes, his water.”
“Because he don’t feel good?”
“Yep, I guess he doesn’t feel good.”
“Because his tummy is upset?”
“Yes, Buddy’s tummy is upset.”
“Oh, poor buddy”

She has begun to refer to him by the nickname we often use for her little brother. For some reason it just tugs at my heart to hear her call him that… buddy! The truth is Buddy, at 2 years old, is probably much more Bella’s buddy than he is ours. Sure we are who he runs to kiss the boo boos, or in this case who he aims for when the “chuck” is making it’s way up. But only 12 months and 2 weeks apart these two are pals, and it is a bond we will never attain with either of them.

That was, thankfully the final act of the water show for today. Hopefully all other shows for the week have been cancelled.

I am struck now by my own loop I play on a regular basis with the Lord. It goes something like this.

“So you still expect that I will be able to take care of these precious little children today?”
“Yes, I still trust you with this responsibility.”
“So you think we will be okay, just the five of us, all day. Just kind of winging it, figuring it out together?”
“Yep, so far so good.”
“And you’re sure that you’re not going to need to call in back up, like maybe a nanny, a zookeeper or two, maybe a professional referee that knows the more technical term and hand signal for ripping the toy out of the baby’s hand so that you can claim he put it down of his own free will, making it fair game even though he is now hysterical and toy less?”
“That’s right, just the kids, you and me.”
“Oh, so you are going to stick around today despite my comment yesterday about you thinking it would be funny to give us 3 kids in 3 1⁄2 years after my complaint 10 years ago that I was almost passed my child bearing years when I hadn’t managed to track down a suitable husband by my 18th birthday? See I knew you would see that as funny. I really didn’t mean it to sound disrespectful. Good, okay, so you, the kids and myself today. Yeah, we can do this.”
“Yep, just like I told you when you woke up an hour ago and asked me these same questions.”
“Okay, then we’re going to be just fine.”

I wonder if God ever gets annoyed with these questions asked over and over again or is he simply so caught up in the joy of hearing me call his mystical creation “precious little children” that he doesn’t mind going through the routine of obvious questions and answers just one more time.