Express Lane 6/29/17

Moms are here for Kimberly's birthday. Quote du jour when Billy punched Arrena for messing with him: "it was acid reflex!"

Express Lane Hump Day

Ex wanted to send a stranger to pick up Billy. "No" set off name-calling, threats, Arrena's texting fingers of fury.

Express lane Saturday

Arrena had an interview for a babysitting job and then I took the kids garage-saling

Express Lane Friday

No appointments, but much tired and much headache. I created a Minecraft monster (Scott). Trampoline broken. Arrena's having a sleepover.

Being a Mom is Tough, but the Benefits are Amazing

One day when this is all behind us, I'll write the story of this debacle of my girls being assaulted on the school bus. But, tonight I'm tired. Tired from stress, from adrenaline, from talking to people all day, from documenting everything, from being the mama bear. But I had to share this one thing so I won't forget why being a mom and having to fight the fight is worth it.

We have a family routine. At dinner time, we take turns asking the blessing on the meal. Whoever's turn it is, we all have to say something we like about that person. Tonight was my turn. Arrena said she likes mom because "she stands up for us." Kimberly said, "I like mom because she takes us seriously." This mama bear sure does love her cubs.

Stop the World, I Want to Get Off

(Originally written March 2013)

Oh wow, where do I begin?

This blog post will not be creative or clever or humorous.  This blog post is about me and my life lately, which has most definitely not been humor-filled.

So, after about four years of having my depression medicinally controlled, I recently had a relapse.  I've also been having panic attacks and I finally admitted I needed some therapy regarding my ex-husband trying to strangle me, so they diagnosed me with post-traumatic stress disorder.  I have put on a lot of weight (not sure how since I don't eat much and have IBS) and have been living with physical pain for the past few months that has been getting increasingly worse.  My doctor has been trying to get my GERD under control and finally sent me to a specialist.  They did an endoscopy and placed a monitoring chip in my esophagus that recorded 233 reflux events in 2 days.  That impressed the unimpressable specialist, so he sent me to see a surgeon to consult about having a Nissen Fundoplication surgery.  I'd never heard of that before, but it's a surgery in which they wrap part of your stomach around the lower part of your esophagus in order to clamp it closed and prevent acid from coming back up.  If they are able to keep it laproscopic, it is a few days in the hospital and a two week recovery.  But, if they have to do open surgery, the recovery is six weeks.  My reflux has been so bad that I have aspirated numerous times on the acid, which is both extremely painful and thoroughly frightening.  However, the surgeon I consulted with told me that I was too overweight for that surgery and recommended a gastric bypass. Not only do I not want any bariatric surgeries, but my insurance won't cover them.  So, I guess my only other option is to lose weight.  My husband and I have started using Weight Watchers three weeks ago and so far, I have lost 7 pounds, so I pray it continues to help us.  Along with going to see the GI doctor, I have been trying to make the rounds, doing what my doctor has recommended.  Tried to see a OB/GYN about possible tubal ligation syndrome and some painful cysts, but her bedside manner left something to be desired, so putting that on hold temporarily and will seek out a better doc later on.  I'm also going to a psychiatrist and therapy for the aforementioned issues.  They changed my medication and that made things really interesting.  I had an allergic reaction to the new antidepressants and broke out in a rash and my hands swelled and went numb.  Another med I was given caused dizziness.  I felt like I was walking around in a narcotic fog.  I felt unsafe driving or going to work.  Between my extreme joint pain, the dizziness, and the depression, I felt like I could barely move.  The new meds seem like they are helping, but it's slow and I have been weepy in the meanwhile, which I hate.  I get really frustrated with myself that my body betrays me.  Everybody has stress, so why do I bawl and get migraines and have panic attacks when I am stressed?  Lately, I have felt like I am barely able to take care of myself, let alone my family, or have the strength to do my job or perform my household duties.

Arrena, my oldest, is 12 and in the 6th grade.  I have long considered her trustworthy and responsible.  However, the growing pains of starting middle school have been harder than we thought.  Things are different than when I was her age.  We didn't have texting and internet or social media.  So, I needed some time to think and pray and determine what the rules would be for her.  In the meanwhile, the rules were: no boyfriends, no texting/talking to boys on the phone, no boys on the internet.  We got her a cell phone for Christmas, primarily for texting her friends.  The rules of the cell phone were no boys, no deleting conversations, and mom had free reign to look through the phone.  One day, a friend called me to report some suspicious content on Arrena's Facebook page.  One of her friends had posted something about her having a boyfriend.  I confronted her about it.  At first, she tried to lie to me about it, but finally admitted this was her second boyfriend.  Much crying and talking and apologizing, and I made her break up with her boyfriend in front of me and didn't let her go to the Valentine's dance at school.  I thought that would be punishment enough.  A few weeks later, her sister ratted her out that after breaking up with the boy in front of me, she renewed the relationship until she decided he was cheating on her.  Her friends were telling her that her mother would never know.  As punishment, I took her phone for a week.  The following day, I went through her phone and found that she had another boyfriend.  She was talking to her friends about texting a boy, but I couldn't find any text conversation with a boy because she had deleted it.  I found cut-and-pasted conversations in her notepad, talking about "love."  I had known she had a crush on this boy and had asked her a few days before if they were "dating" and she told me no.  It turned out that she had hidden him in her phone under a girl's name.  It's not so much about the "boyfriend" because at this age, it's little more than a title.  However, we know from culture that "things" are happening faster and faster these days.  I want to protect my daughter which is why I have rules.  It's not as much about having a boyfriend as it is about breaking the rules, and lying, and sneaking around, and being deceptive.  So, this time the punishment had to hurt.  I took her phone permanently and grounded her from phone, internet, social media, sleepovers, and extracurricular activities indefinitely.  I think quitting drama club hurt her the most.  She started off defensive and angry.  We talked about how I cannot MAKE her obey, but that she has to decide whether or not she wants to follow Christ and what Jesus wants her to do.  She asked me if she had to break up with him.  I told her that judging by the last time, I couldn't make her do anything, but that she should figure out if she wanted to live in disobedience and what being Christ-like meant.  After a few days, she came to me and told me that she had ended the relationship.  I am not sure how to trust her or how long it will take to repair the broken relationship.  She has been complaining to everyone who will listen about how unfair the indefinite grounding is.  I'm sorry, but since when did these PRIVILEGES become RIGHTS?  Some days I really think about switching to an Amish-like existence.  I think it would be better for all of us.  And apparently her dad is criticizing my punishment behind my back, all the while telling me that he agrees and doesn't like her friends and doesn't believe she should be on the internet at all.  Nothing like some cooperation in parenting and undermining my authority.

Kimberly is 10 and in the 5th grade.  She has been having attitude issues for a couple of years.  I have been concerned about her mental and emotional health for a while.  She doesn't sleep well and was having some crying spells.  She followed her sister's suit this past year in going through puberty and that ramped everything up about 30 notches.  She went from being mama's girl and a touchy-feely kid to being mean, hateful, and not wanting anyone to touch her.  I tell her I love her and she says, "whatever."  I ask her what she's up to and she says, "what do you care?"  I try to hug her and she flinches like I'm diseased.  She used to crawl up in my husband's lap and begged me to marry him and now she treats him like something she stepped in.  And it's not just us.  I've caught her screaming at her brother that he is a freak.  She mouths off to her teacher.  And she tells off fellow-students. And before I even finished writing this blog, I discovered by accident that she'd been looking at pornography on the Internet.  Then I found out that she was contemplating cutting.  She not only told a friend of mine and admitted it to me, but apparently one of her friends reported it to an outside agency that reported it back to the school, so the principal pulled me aside.  She is now on a mild antidepressant.  Then her sister squealed on her, as payback, that she had a boyfriend too.  Talking with her about these things initially improved things.  The other day, she was throwing attitude at my husband and I and when I spoke to her, she started questioning her faith.  She said that she's glad it works for me, but it doesn't work for her.  She said that if God is real, He doesn't care about her because He isn't helping her.  This breaks my heart more than anything.  I know how hard life is and I can't imagine doing it without having God to help me, without having hope.  I don't have many expectations for my children as they grow up or any high and lofty dreams.  The one thing that I want for them is to follow Christ.  I want them to grow in his love and to be Christ-like.  I don't want them to struggle through life and make life-changing mistakes.  And I want to see them in heaven someday.

I've written about Billy's issues before.  He's 8 and is in the 2nd grade.  We have been dealing with his behavior issues for years.  He has been going to a psychiatrist and counseling for 3 or 4 years.  We have been arranging and rearranging medication for him as things work and stop working.  They never wanted to pigeon-hole him, but the working diagnosis is ADHD, ODD, and severe mood dysregulation, although his symptoms could also fit Asperger's, which we have long suspected.  We have had our fair share of problems with him.  Primarily his misbehavior was at home.  He occasionally would act out at school or church, but mostly, he saved his meltdowns for us.  He has jumped out his window, tried to run into a highway, threatened me with scissors, called 911 for the heck of it, screamed obscenities/threats/hate, and threatened to hurt himself, among other things.  When he gets really worked up, we have to hold him down for about 15 minutes and he seems to reset.  He obviously has sensory issues and we know that certain situations will overstimulate him and cause problems.  As this has been going on for so long with little change and he has become more and more violent, the counselor has recommended that we look into in-patient treatment for him.  This is not something that I want to do.  He's my baby and I can't imagine turning him over to strangers.  He is a mama's boy and I am afraid of how he would take it as well.  I will do whatever it takes to help him, but I pray that it doesn't come to that.  This year, he has started really acting out at school.  Numerous times, I get phone calls while I am at work from the school to come and get him.  He has been suspended once so far, if you don't count all the times he has been sent home early.  They have made accommodations for him over and over.  I have tried to get him an IEP or get him into a special ed program, but they don't want to test him yet so close to the end of the school year, and with so little data since he has only recently been acting out at school.  In the meanwhile, I feel like we are stuck between a rock and a hard place.  He is running away from the staff, biting/kicking/hitting adults, throwing chairs, knocking over tables, totally out of control.  And it is usually over small things.  The other day he punched one of the support staff in her stomach.  I'm thankful it wasn't the vice-principal, who is pregnant.  They had to evacuate his classroom one day because he was on a rampage.  I don't know where we go from here because it sounds like the school is at the end of their rope.  I am afraid they are going to expel him and then I don't know what we will do.  When I talk to his dad about it, he blames us, the school, the medication, the doctors, etc.  He thinks we need to send Billy to him, that he needs more time with his dad (even though he goes months without seeing them of his own volition).  I sent the kids there for spring break and Billy's first day back, he was out of control at school again.  His dad thinks I should quit my job and homeschool Billy, even though he is not paying child support and when he does pay, it's an insulting amount.  I completed paperwork for evaluations from Children's Mercy and K.U. Med Center to try to pin down a diagnosis because right now, we are not trusting his psychiatrist.  When I try to research his diagnosis, I have trouble finding it and what I do find says the opposite of what he says.  We quit going to the counselor because he quit counseling Billy and switched to family counseling, which obviously isn't doing Billy any good and wasn't helping anyone else since Kimberly refused to talk to him.  I wonder how much longer we have before the violence at school becomes a criminal matter.  How long til they start calling the police when he hits the adults?  This has to be controlled before he is big enough to do damage to people.  How long will the school drag their feet before they acknowledge that he needs special education classes?  After two months of asking, I finally put my IEP request in writing.  I got a letter that they will contact me within 30 days, which is very close to the end of the school year.  I'm trying to fight for my son to have his needs met and be in a safe environment and not a drain on the staff, but then sometimes I feel like I am defending myself to them.  I feel sorry for him, that he is constantly in trouble, but what are we supposed to do???

When it rains, it pours.  Can't have one problem at a time.  And the world doesn't stop because you are struggling.  You have to go to work, you have to go to the store, you have to go to church, you have to keep going, while people all around you have no idea the turmoil that is going on inside of you.  You smile, you say "fine" when people ask how you are,  you put on the perky persona at work since depression doesn't sell.  Yet all the while, you feel like life is crumbling around you.  Why doesn't everyone else notice?  Why can't they feel the pain radiating off of you?  Why doesn't the world stop spinning?  And then you look around and wonder what is behind all the masks you see.  The cashier at the grocery store, the customer at work, the crazy driver that just cut you off--what private pain are they hiding?  And so you keep smiling, not because you feel like it or necessarily because you want to hide your pain, but because you want to give a tiny ray of hope to someone else who might be hurting.

Dead Animals...

The following events happened a few months ago, but I am just getting around to writing about it...

At the back of our house, there is a hole in the roof's overhang. I am not familiar with all the terms for parts of the house, so forgive me if I am unclear. A bird decided to build her nest up there, much to the delight of the neighborhood cat, Jude, who likes to sit on the window ledge, waiting for the opportunity to snag the bird as she flies in and out. He is patient and hopeful, despite the fact that I have repeatedly urged him to give it up, pointing out that the drain spout somewhat blocks his reach of the opening. He's a very optimistic feline. Well, the day came that the baby birds hatched. We found egg shells littering the concrete stoop and the manic shriek-like chirps of newborns could be heard far and wide.

My kids like to play with a couple of children that live a little ways down the block and they were all happily playing outside when the commotion started. All the children, en masse, rushed in the house, one of them cradling something in his hand. They were beside themselves and all talking at once. The story, when I got them to calm down enough to be coherent, was that they had found a baby bird that had fallen out of his nest. They had told the little boy not to touch it, but he had anyways, and now they were sure that the baby would die. They begged me to help it. They were ready to care of it themselves. Kimmy even went so far as to put padding into one of their dollhouses. However, I found out that it is against federal law to keep a wild bird. Okay, now I like animals, but honestly, if the children hadn't been there to beg and plead in near hysterics, I would have likely left the animal to its natural fate. The neighbor children also ran home to their mother to ask for her assistance. I immediately went to the greatest expert known to man: Google.

Apparently it's a myth that touching a baby bird will cause its mother to abandon it. The article I read suggested trying to put the baby back in its nest, if it is easily reachable. I grabbed the step ladder and gingerly took the funny-looking, floppy little thing (gotta say, I wasn't crazy about touching it at all) and with 5 children and one mom looking on, I attempted to return the infant to its nest. This was easier said than done. The hole was large enough to stick about half of your hand in, but way more difficult to stick it in when you are trying to hold something. And there was the added complication of a nail jutting out into the hole. Great real estate, mother bird! Finally got the baby in there, but I couldn't reach far enough to get it back from the hole or get it up into the nest. I worried that it would wriggle out again.

I was right. The kids came back a little later, with the bird again. The article I had read before suggested putting it in a padded shoebox and then calling the Audobon Society if you can't put the baby back in its nest, or the Humane Society. I put it in a shoebox, then tried looking up the number for the Audobon Society. All I could find was a P.O. Box number. Well, that won't do any good--would have to write them a letter!? So, I called Animal Control. The guy there said, "Um...I don't know...sorry." Then I called the Humane Society. They said that I should call a nature center and gave me the number. The guy there said no, but that I should call a "rehabilitator" and gave me the number to one. The rehabilitator that I called said that she has never had one speck of luck in rescuing baby birds. She suggested that I just let it die. Easier said than done, when you have 5 very excitable children looking on. She finally suggested that I put the baby back in the hole, push him as far back as possible with a stick, then put grass and leaves in there to keep him from rolling out again.

When I went to get him out of the shoebox, however, there was blood around his head. I think it was coming out of his mouth. And he wasn't as full of life as he had been before. I think the second fall may have caused some internal injuries. I decided he would probably die and even if I put him back in the hole, his mother would push him out when he was dead. So I stuck him up there, poked him back with a stick, and placed leaves and grass inside to keep him from rolling out. Then I kept a sharp eye out. The neighbor kids went home and my kids came in the house. I knew mama bird must be back because I started seeing grass and leaves hanging from the hole or falling down to the ground. Apparently she didn't appreciate my decorating skills! When I checked a while later, the baby was on the ground again and this time he wasn't moving. Before the kids could see, I put him in the shoebox again, and hid it in the trash dumpster.

My kids never asked about the bird again. They assumed that since they hadn't seen him on the ground, he was fine. The little girl down the street came by the next day when my kids were gone and asked about it. I lied! I told her he must be fine because I hadn't seen him. I hate lying, but I couldn't bear to tell them that he had died! The girl's mother called me a few days later to ask me about it and I told her the truth. But, to this day, the kids think that the baby bird had a miraculous recovery and lived a long, prosperous life!

Billy had a rather different experience with animals. On his 3rd day of preschool, he dissected a fish. He came home, telling me all about it. I thought he was making up a story. I mean, whoever heard of dissecting animals in preschool? That's just silly! I asked his teacher about it and she said that they had, in fact, dissected a fish. They have pet fish in their classroom and the kids were having trouble understanding what parts a fish has and if they are like people, etc. The teacher decided to buy a whole frozen fish and take it to school to show the kids. She said she had hoped one of the other teachers might be more into it than she was, because she was a little squeemish about it. They weren't. She said she just decided to suck it up and do it because if she didn't act scared, the kids would be fine with it. She let them each practice scaling it and they looked at the insides and the gills and even cut its eye out. She has a picture up on the board of Billy holding the fish's eyeball with a caption that says, "Billy said the eye felt nasty." Billy thought it was great! A couple of weeks later, they played with little dead squids too. Gross!

Arrena also had a dead animal experience. We were walking through the park and she was riding her bike. I saw something on the ground, but before I could make out what it was, she had run over it. Thwump, like a speed bump. Kimmy started screeching and Arrena skidded to a halt and looked stricken. Apparently she had run over a baby bird. Kimmy was calling her a bird killer, but I am convinced that it was already dead. Whether it was dead or not mattered little to Arrena, who felt terrible about running the poor thing over. She looked so forlorn, hanging her head in guilt and saying, "I'm a bird killer." Billy, of course, wanted to pick it up and examine it. He probably would have taken it to school to be dissected. I'm betting Miss Kristalyn wouldn't have appreciated that one little bit.

A Bunch of Comedians...

My kids are funny and I am afraid I have only myself to blame for it. I never thought I was that funny, but people often tell me that I tell stories in a very funny way and my mom is always after me to write them down. The kids think I am a regular stand-up comic. I tell them one funny joke or do one impression and they expect an hour-long routine. The most common phrase heard around here is, "Tell us something funny, mom!" Now my memory is bad and I am a little slow coming up with quick witicisms, so I can't just pull them out of a hat. They apparently think I should. Now I have a line of successors...

First in line for my comedy crown is Arrena. Today when she got out of Boys and Girls Club, she was in a very silly, giggly mood. We were discussing the hole in the armpit of her club shirt. She said that all of them were like that, adding that they were delicate. She giggled and said, "I don't even know what 'delicate' means!" We all laughed at her. A little while later, we saw an ambulance and a fire truck on the side of the road, but no obvious fire. She asked why a fire truck would be there if there was no fire. Before I could get my answer out, she came up with one of her own. She said, "Maybe if they had trouble picking someone up, because they were really fat--like dad--" (at which point, we all burst out laughing because it was said so nonchalantly, like it's a common-known fact that her dad is HUGE {he's overweight, but not THAT big}, then she continued without missing a beat) "--they would call the firemen because they are strong and muscular." Muscular. At age 8, she is admiring the build of firemen???

On to Kimmy...ALWAYS a contender... Yesterday, I asked her to go outside and tell her sister it was time for dinner. She whirled around and spat, "Slavery is OVER!" Overreacting much?

And last but not least, we have Billy. Not to be outdone, he is often funny without intending to be. We were walking through the park tonight and saw triplet toddlers being pulled along in a vehicle that can be described as a cross between a wagon and a train--one "car" for each of the little boys. Billy asked if we could get one of those. I said that we don't have any small babies anymore to use that. He said, "When I get big, I'll marry you and we'll GET some babies." Ooooo-KAY! While I love that he loves his mama, sometimes he is a little bit too oedipal.

Oh, and last night he really surprised me. He has a plush lion that has a pull string that plays music. He's had it since he was a baby--it was a crib toy. He calls it "Blueberry". I asked him if he wanted music. As far as I know, he hasn't played with it in quite a while. I pulled the string and he said the music was from Pinocchio. I stopped and listened because I had never paid attention before. Sure enough, but that little bugger was right! It was "When You Wish Upon a Star". I asked him who told him that and he said no one. I said, "Well, how did you know that?" He smiled and said, "I just know that!"

Kids...

R-E-S-P-E-C-T (find out what it means to me!)

"It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt."-- George Eliot
"Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt."-- Abraham Lincoln (also attr. Confucius)
"It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt."-- Mark Twain (1835-1910)
"Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise: and he that shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of understanding. "-- Bible, Proverbs 17:28

Regardless of where this quote originated, it is TRUE! I am trying to recover from my anger at an incredibly stupid person who crossed my path today!

Both of my girls received awards today at school. They have an assembly for each grade instead of one large one for the whole school. The awards are for character traits that they have learned about throughout the school year. They have weekly awards for the character trait that they are showcasing and then at the end of the semester, they look back over the past 9 weeks and pick one student that has exhibited the trait throughout. They award for each of the traits and then one gets a "golden eagle" award for exhibiting all of the character traits. Arrena has won a few of the weekly awards and twice received one at the assembly. Kimmy has gotten one of the weekly awards and 3 of the awards at assembly and even received the coveted golden eagle once (which pretty much means that she got one award at every semester's assembly--I believe she is teacher's pet!). Today, Arrena received the award for responsibility and Kimmy's was for self-control.

Arrena's assembly started at 2pm, which is the time I get off work. I sent her grandma and her brother to be there for her and I sped there after work in time to see her class's winners breaking from their post-award photo op huddle. Kimmy's ceremony was at 3:35, so we went home and came back.

The last two of these assemblies I have been to, they have instructed the group not to clap after each individual award. I believe they do this to conserve time and also to keep the kids from getting too unruly. They tell them to "marshmallow clap" which involves silently "clapping", but stopping short of a full clap, as though you have a giant marshmallow between your hands. After the golden eagle award for that class, they are allowed to clap regularly for all the award winners collectively. I disagree with this. I think when the kids work hard and show good character and the parents turn out to support them, they ought to be able to clap and cheer and show that they are proud of them. I follow their directions, though. Today there was a mother in attendance who had no intention of taking it lying down.

She loudly clapped (and CHEERED) for each child, making all the children turn around to stare and giggle. She loudly protested that it was stupid and the children should be clapped for. Someone (I didn't see or hear who--maybe a teacher, maybe another parent, maybe her own child that was next to her) must have asked her to stop because I heard her say loudly, "No, I won't be quiet!" She kept on and on, until she must have grown tired of carrying the protest herself, and took her children and left. On her way out the door, she loudly berated all of us parents for NOT clapping for our children. She completely ruined the awards assembly for the children who had worked so hard and for the parents who came to honor their children. I agreed with her point of view, but you don't make a scene! You don't ruin it for everyone. You don't embarrass your own children. You should be an example to the children of GOOD behavior, not BAD behavior! Apparently she missed the irony of the kids receiving awards for self-control and respect, et cetera, while she did not display any of these characteristics! I am amazed that her child even received an award with his mother as an example. Poor children...I cringe when I imagine what kind of life they must have with an obnoxious loudmouth mother like that. I think I have seen her at a field trip and I must say, if I was a teacher, I would hate to entrust her with the looking-after of a group of children--there's no telling what disrespectful, rebellious, bad behavior she would teach to those in her charge!

This happened four hours ago and my blood is STILL boiling! I was itching to turn around and say something to her, but she was obviously one of those people who could not be shamed into behaving herself and it would likely have escalated the situation and caused more of a disturbance. So, I sat there shaking, as I battled my own self-control. I was afraid if she clapped and hooted for my Kimmy, I might lose the battle. Fortunately she stalked out before that happened. If this is the kind of class displayed by the parents at this school, then I am so glad that the girls will not be going to this school again next year!

High School Musical on Ice

I took Arrena and Kimmy to see High School Musical on Ice for Arrena's birthday. The tickets cost quite a bit, but they were worth it for the seats we got: on the floor, second row. Arrena wanted to be close. We could have reached out and touched the skaters, as you can see by the pictures. It was a pretty good show. The audio is taped and the skaters lip-sync, but it was well-choreographed. The first act is the first High School Musical and act two is High School Musical 2. It is a little rushed to get all of that into about an hour and forty minutes (COUNTING the intermission), but I thought it came out well. It's got to be challenging to do a play while on skates. The actor/skater that played Troy looked a lot like Zac Efron. The girl that played Gabriella didn't resemble Vanessa Hudgens as much, but she was really sweet. Kimmy must have caught her eye. Kimmy had been bouncing around and smiling her little missing-tooth smile and waving at all the skaters that came near us (which was a lot since there was a platform right in front of her seat). "Gabriella" waved to her several times (she made a point to wave directly at Kimmy when they were wrapping up and skating out) and blew her a kiss once. Kimmy was also thrilled when a skater sent up a shower of ice and a piece hit Kimmy in the arm. She showed us the wet spot, excitedly exclaiming, "A piece of ice got me!" I thought she might never wash that arm again! Arrena muttered, "Everything good always happens to Kimmy." Arrena did have a good time, though, proclaiming that it was the best day of her life. The only downside was that I didn't bring my camera. I thought about it and thought they might not allow flash photography and since we were in a prominent spot, we would be more obvious if we were snapping pictures. So, I left it at home and ended up taking a ton of pictures on my cell phone, which is only a 1.3 megapixel, as opposed to my 8 megapixel camera that I left at home. Most of the pictures weren't good at all, but a couple were acceptable. The people in front of us had a camera and I was kicking myself watching all the great shots they were getting. I don't think it would have been worth it if we had been sitting futher back--my flash doesn't work well in large indoor areas. But, as close as we were, it would have been fantastic. And as much as I paid for the tickets, it seems a waste not to have some great pictures out of it. Now I know for next time, I guess!

Kids Say the Darnedest Things, Part 1

Tomorrow we begin our vacation. We will be camping for three days in Oklahoma at my family reunion, then we will be having a party for Chris' foster parents who are leaving in a couple of weeks to be missionaries in Canada. I will likely not have time to blog in the next week and a half, so on the eve of our departure, I was thinking of some of the funny things the kids have said recently and thought I would share them with you.

Billy likes for me to sleep facing him when he is in my bed. If I turn away from him, he either runs around the bed and gets on the other side or he tries to twist my neck around so that I am facing him again. The other night, I had stepped on one of his toys on my way to bed and was limping and muttering and didn't feel like accommodating his sleep preferences, so I turned my back on him. He began twisting my head around, so I turned around and tried to find a comfortable spot. I heard this little exasperated voice in the darkness: "Stop moving!" I laughed and then explained that I wasn't happy with him because he left his toy out and mommy stepped on it and hurt her foot. He said, "Mommy cuckoo!"

Billy's latest drama is to hand me his empty sippee cup and throw his head back across my lap and moan, "Me dying, me dying, me dying."

Kimmy, always a source of amusement, was scratching daddy's back the other day. She turned to me with a look that was a mixture of the melodramatic and pure orneriness, and said, "I'm going to need a shovel, some disinfectant, and some oregano." Along the same vein, as we were driving to Pizza Hut to eat another day, she said, "If they give me a picture to color, I'm going to need a jar of honey, 100 red ants, and the cover of nightfall." (Arrena tells me she got these lines from TV, I think from Hannah Montana.)

Somehow we got on the subject of surgeries I have had. The girls asked a lot of questions, especially about the time that I had to go to the emergency room after Kimmy was born because some of the placenta had been left inside me. Several days later, Kimmy said, "I'm sorry, mom, I left my purse in there! I got my keys, my wallet, my phone, and my driver's license, but I left my purse in there." When we asked her about the keys and driver's license, she said, "When I was a bean, I had a little bitty car." She added, "It was a very friendly place in there. My only friend was the heart. When I played checkers with the heart, it always won because mom kept moving my checkers."

Kimmy loves to watch Animal Planet. The Ugliest Dog Contest came on the other day and Kimmy was appalled and offended. She said, "Dogs aren't for fashion! They're for pets! How would they like it if there was an ugliest person contest?"

And Arrena, not to be outdone, had a couple of funny moments of her own. She told me that, "Dad acts like that TV is a lullaby." I was puzzled and asked her to explain. She said, "Every night he comes home and lays down on the couch, turns on the TV, and falls right to sleep."

Tonight Chris and the kids were watching one of their much-loved crime reality shows and they were telling about a group of thieves who broke into a business to rob it. They didn't know that the security guard was watching them on the surveillance cameras and calling police and directing the police with every move they made and every direction they went. Arrena looked at us and shook her head in disgust. She muttered, "They should have put bags over the cameras." Chris cracked up with a look of surprised disbelief on his face and I said, "We're going to have to keep an eye on this one if she's figured out the smart ways to commit robbery!"

Well, that's a wrap for this amateur night of comedy!

(P.S. For those of you who have my blog delivered to your email inbox, I added a couple of pictures of the girls' first day of school to that blog post after it had already been delivered to you, so you might check those out!)

Back to School!

Well, the girls started their new school last Thursday. Initially, I worried about the lower test scores I saw on the state of Kansas report card website. But, Chris talked to one of his friends whose son either went there or is still going there and he said they were great with his son, who has a learning disability. I was also impressed at enrollment when they handed me a piece of paper to fill out that said at the top, "Here's my child--Handle with care." It had places to check off different character traits and their academic strengths and weaknesses. Then there were blanks to fill in additional information about your child that you would like the teacher to know. That was nice because there were a lot of things I wanted the teachers to be aware of. However, when I met their teachers, I got the impression that they maybe hadn't read these forms yet because they didn't seem to be previously aware of my concerns. Anyways, they had porch visits Tuesday where some of the staff went around and met with the kids and brought them an invitation to the open house and some gum and a pencil. I thought that was a neat idea. Then they had an open house/ice cream social on Wednesday. We were able to meet the teachers then and see their rooms. I felt so sorry for my girls because this school is at least double the size of their old one. Their old school had 14 classes--this one has 26 classes. There are over 600 students. I walked them all around the school several times so they could become familiar with it. I got a really good impression of Arrena's teacher. Kimmy's teacher seemed nice, but I didn't get as strong a vibe from her. Arrena says it's okay, but she is distressed over the playground situation. There are two sets of equipment--one looks really nice, the other pretty plain. She says the younger kids play on the plain equipment and the big kids play on the good stuff. I asked her if it was a rule for them to separate and she said that no one told her it was, that was just the way it worked. She wanted to go to the good equipment, but no one her age would go over there. Kimmy, who loves school, came home Thursday and Friday saying she didn't like the school and it was the worst day of school ever. I have to concur with her proclamation of Friday--I am a little ticked about that fiasco myself. At their old school, at least the younger grades (not sure about the older grades) had bathrooms in their classrooms--at that age, they have to go frequently and urgently. Well, not at this school. They have to go down the hall to use the bathroom. Kimmy had gone to the bathroom and when she came back, her class was gone. Imagine my little bitty 6-year old Kimmy standing in this huge school with no idea where to go or what to do. She said she found another teacher and asked if she knew where her class went. She said she looked all over the school and finally found them outside having a fire drill! I said, "What did your teacher say?" Kimmy said, "She said, 'Oh, Kimmy, I'm so sorry I forgot about you!'" This really bothers me. What if there had been a real fire? I understand that this is only the second day of school and she may not be familiar with all the students yet, but if you are having a fire drill, number one, shouldn't ALL the children be instructed on what to do? Number two, don't you have a class list or a head count to make sure they all get out? Don't you notice that you have one vacant desk? One missing hall pass? It's not very reassuring that you can forget a student during a controlled drill--what happens during the chaos of a real emergency? If I trust my daughter to you for seven hours a day, I need to know that she will be safe and looked after. Maybe I am overreacting, but I'd rather overreact than underreact and have something happen to my child. I told this to Kimmy's friend's mom and she said that would upset her too and she'd be contacting the teacher. I emailed the teacher over the weekend to let her know that this concerns me. I'm really not sure in what way she can respond to reassure me. And Kimmy and I talked about what she should do in case there was a real fire or a tornado while she is in the bathroom or elsewhere in the building by herself. Apparently I have to trust her to take care of herself! This does not inspire confidence! I mean, I can't imagine that the teacher can go running around the school looking for stray children with her class in tow during a fire drill or a real fire, but the children should be instructed as to what to do if there is a fire/tornado/etc. drill when they are away from their classroom. And after this, I briefly spoke to an old friend whose kids went to this school for a time. She said it was a good school, but something happened last year to make her take them out and put them in the school system that we just came out of. I didn't get to talk to her further to find out what the concern was, but I gave her my phone number so hopefully I can speak to her further and see if it was just a personal thing or if there is something I should be aware of. Hopefully this week will be better, but so far they are plotting to get back to their old school next year.

One of THOSE Weeks...

Well, to start off the tale of woe, I haven't been able to use my drier all week. I had been hearing this strange sound in the living room late at night and when I went towards the sound, it stopped. I finally found out that there was a growing hole near the baseboard by the front door, so obviously there is a mouse chewing a hole in the wall. I was ticked off. I hate mice and I pay for exterminators, yet I still have numerous pests! But THAT is a whole other tirade! I went and found some mouse poison packs in the garage and threw one in a corner of the garage behind some stuff which is in the vicinity of the backside of the wall with the mystical growing portal. Well, a day or two later, the hole hadn't enlarged any, but there was a stench in the garage, as of that of a dead mouse. Well, I went to put some laundry in the drier in the basement and it came out with the same stench. Thought it was a fluke, so I did another load and it came out the same way. No stench from the outside, only inside. Great. Dead mouse somewhere INSIDE my drier. And of course, Chris claims, "I'll take it apart tonight and find it," but never does. So, I have had to hang everything to dry--clothes, underwear, socks, towels. And since my fabric softener is in the form of drier sheets, you can imagine how stiff everything is! I was going to use my mom's drier, but it rained a couple of days this week which meant Chris took my truck instead of the motorcycle.

Then Wednesday night, Kimmy complained that she didn't feel good. This is an EXTREMELY common complaint with her, so I didn't pay much attention, except my usual, "Go lay down, then." I guess after I went to work, she threw up twice. When I got home, she and Billy both had a fever and Billy was shivering violently and suffering from gads of diarrhea. It's been like that ever since. I thought Kimmy was better because she kept her dinner down Thursday night, but she threw up again this morning. She is complaining that it's unfair for her to be sick because she missed going to the library Thursday (even though I picked up her summer reading prize pack for her as well as an armload of books), going to the zoo today (even though we have a membership and go often AND I brought her home a gift from the zoo's gift shop), and might miss out on two of her friends' parties tomorrow if I'm not convinced she's better. Arrena has been a TREMENDOUS help to me. It's been a little difficult with one in one bathroom and one in the other, both crying for mama. Kimmy even accused me of paying attention to Billy and not to her. Arrena, meanwhile, has been trying to disinfect the house--I can't tell if it's so she won't get sick and miss out on everything or if it's to gain allowance money or if it's just to help me out. Regardless, she has cleaned and helped with the two sickies and even got them some animal masks at the zoo today before she got one for herself. Let's hope she doesn't catch it now.

Today while we were at the zoo, I got a phone call from the school board. Our daughters have been in Derby schools the last two years. We lived in Derby district, even though we were technically in Wichita. I didn't like the neighborhood school--we had lived in that neighborhood when we first moved back here and it is a hotbed of crime and drugs, etc. We got out of there as fast as we could. Even though we were living across the highway from that neighborhood, we were still in that district. I didn't want my kids in those schools. I hear the schools are good, but I didn't want to have to tell my children that they can't go over to any of their friends' houses because I don't know if their parents are crackheads or dope dealers or whatever. Children in that neighborhood run unattended in the streets at an early age. So, we transferred to Pleasantview. It was approved the past two years. But, we moved out of Derby district and into Wichita district. However, Derby enrollment has been down, so they adopted an open enrollment this year where you could get an out-of-district waiver and still be approved to go to Derby schools. The girls are used to the school, have friends, and I have been pleased with their progress and the programs. I didn't think it would be a problem to get the waiver because there is supposed to be a hierarchy of preference--first, children in that neighborhood; second, children not in the neighborhood but have been at the school previously; third, other children out of the district that have never attended that school. Since Arrena has two years in and Kimmy has one, I assumed we would get preferential treatment in the process. We got the call today that Kimmy has a spot, but not Arrena. They offered another school for Arrena, but I said that I would not split the girls up in two different schools--that's stupid. They said the only way they could stay together was to go to one of the schools in the bad neighborhood. I said absolutely not, out of the question. I talked to Arrena's friend's mom, who is a teacher in Derby and she said she was told that they didn't follow the hierarchy, they just drew the applications out of a pile at random. That's great, teaching our kids that it doesn't matter if you work hard and put your time in. And this teacher didn't even get to have her child at the school she works at for the third year in a row--they can't even get it right for the teachers! I am so mad about this! And you can imagine that the girls are really upset about it too. There's been a few tears today over it. And with ten days left until school starts, I don't even know where they will be going to school! I guess it will have to be in Wichita, but I am not 100% sure which school is in our district. UGH!

As if all this isn't enough to drive someone (me) bonkers, Chris is in one of his "woe-is-me" pity-party attitudes. First it was that me and Arrena and her friend ate at the zoo and we didn't think about him enough to bring him some food (he told me he was going to grab something before he came home). So, I babied him and got him KFC for dinner. But, then he whined because he likes to go out riding his motorcycle on Friday nights and he didn't have a babysitter. This ticked me off. First off, just Sunday, he told me that he wasn't going to go out on Fridays anymore, that he wanted to spend the time with the kids. Second, two of the kids are sick. And there he was, trying to decide who he could call to watch them so he could go out. When he figured out he had no one, he sulked and pouted and talked about selling his bike because he ONLY gets to ride it back and forth to work. Waah, waah, waah! So, I said that if I could, I would get off early so he could go. But, as luck would have it, volume was too high tonight, so I only got off 40 minutes early (which is still nothing to sneeze at around there! And certainly better than the extra hour we were threatened with). While I was at work, he texted me on my breaks to see if I was off yet. When I texted "no" back, he replied with, "I knew it." When I got home, he had gone to bed and when I went to tell him I was home, he acted pouty and sulky again. I usually go to the store Friday nights, but I came straight home for him for NOTHING! Now I have to figure out when I can go, which will probably have to be tomorrow morning, which sucks! I guarantee he will probably get on that bike as soon as he gets up and leave me to take three kids, two of them sick, to the store. And what's worse is that the high tomorrow is forecasted to be 100 degrees--lovely weather to be loading groceries in and out with three children in tow! ARGH, but it's just the tip of the iceberg. He has been on my nerves a lot here lately. And now I guess I get to sleep on the couch since both sickies are flanking him in our bed, likely a maneuver on his part as revenge on me for what? Going to work? Not storming out of work so he could go on a BIKE RIDE? For not allowing him to call my mother to babysit in the middle of her working eleven days in a row with no day off? It's all my fault somehow, I am sure. Do men get PMS?

Okay, needed to blow off that steam! I'm all better now....

Our First Family Camping Trip

We had our first foray into camping this weekend. As we are planning to camp for three nights in Oklahoma in a few weeks, we decided to make a test run: an overnighter at nearby El Dorado Lake. I was determined not to be the big baby on this trip, supposing that my whole family would be all gung-ho and I would be the one that hated camping. Boy, was I wrong!

We went out Friday afternoon to check out the campsites and figure out where we might want to camp. We would have reserved a site, but the site host had taken his wife to the hospital with a broken ankle. So we just looked around.

I went on to work Friday night, then went to the store afterwards. We still had supplies we needed and Arrena and Kimmy were having a tea party with their friends Monday, so I wanted to make sure I didn't have to go to the store again before that. The shopping took forever. My stomach had been feeling yucky for a few days and I was tired, so I think I just moved slowly. I finally left and went home to get some things packed and organized. Chris had gathered up gear in a corner of the garage that he would load into the truck in the morning. I laughed out loud when I saw the huge pile of stuff he had planned to take! I finally made it to bed around 4:30am.

Chris woke me up at 7:30am with a desire to get an early start so we wouldn't lose all the good camping spots. Needless to say, I was exhausted. We loaded up the truck. That was so funny because we had taken out the third row of seats in the Expedition and filled the back, floor to ceiling, plus there was more stuff packed into the floorboards beneath the kids' feet and mine as well. For a one night camping trip! Ha, ha! You'd have thought we were moving out there!

We got out there and picked a very large, shady spot, right next to a walking bridge that led to the swimming beach. It's in El Dorado State Park, but it wasn't really near the lake--you couldn't even see the lake because where you turn off to go to the campsite we were at, you're right by the huge dam. We were by the Walnut River. We set up our campsite and then headed out to explore a bit and get some lunch. We had some miscommunication along those lines. I thought we were leaving first thing Sunday morning, so I only packed food for lunch and dinner Saturday. Turned out, Chris had planned to leave after lunch Sunday, so we were two meals short. We decided to eat at Freddy's Frozen Custard for lunch Saturday. I suddenly had an urge to go shopping when I spotted a store on the main street in El Dorado called Robin's. I had never heard of it before, but I guess they have been featured on the Oprah Winfrey Show, have made TV commercials, and have a website (http://www.shoprobins.com). From looking at the display in the window, Chris concluded that they carry my style clothing. From looking at the website, I would say that might be true, but it is likely doubtful that they carry my current size. Still need to lose that weight!

Anyways, after lunch, we headed back to camp and got changed to go swimming at the beach. The beach was nasty with goose droppings. I had seen a flock of geese through the treeline earlier, but hadn't thought what that would mean. We waded for a while, then headed back to camp. Our shady campsite had become decreasingly shaded as the afternoon progressed. Fortunately we had brought a blowup pool and set it up and filled it with the icy water from the spigot our campsite boasted. The kids splashed and played and Chris and I dragged chairs over and put our feet in. I think it was 98 degrees this weekend, so it was plenty hot and if you're not familiar with Kansas' humidity...you are very fortunate indeed! It was so hot, we went through seven bags of ice in our two small coolers! For, what, 28 hours? Yikes!

There was a family with a little girl, almost four, camped next to us, so the girls invited her to come over and play on their inflatable that we brought (yes, they lugged that huge thing along with us!) and wade in the pool. After she went back to her mom and dad, we started dinner. Chris had said a couple of his friends might come by to meet me. I have been giving him a hard time because he has several friends with motorcycles that he rides with and hangs out with, but I have never met them. So, they showed up when Chris was halfway through making dinner. Okay, first I must tell you that I was really not in the mood to entertain. For one, that three hours of sleep I had gotten was really not cutting it. Then the heat was draining me even more. I felt like I was melting into oblivion! All I wanted to do was lie down in a coolER spot and and stay there. With the heat, goes my appearance. I was pouring sweat; my hair was a frizzy, damp, matted mess; any makeup I had started off the day with, was long gone. Not the condition in which you want to meet anyone! As they arrived, Chris abandoned his cooking. I had been in the middle of making plates for the kids and myself, but I had to run over and take over the cooking to rescue the burgers and sausages from being burned. Chris had made extra for his friends, but they didn't want to eat. I finished making the plates for me and the kids and we went to the screen house to eat, so we wouldn't be plagued by flies and I invited his friends to come sit with us in the screen house so we could visit, but they declined. So I sat with the kids in the screen house while Chris and his friend, his wife, and another woman friend of theirs (girlfriend of another guy friend) conversed far enough away from me that I couldn't participate in the conversation. Between the heat, my lack of sleep, and my stomachache, I was getting irritable. So, when they left me with the children and wandered off chatting, I nearly lost it. When Chris returned and they left, I informed him that I was not the babysitter or the hired help, but that that's how he makes me feel sometimes. He had been offended when some of the parents that brought their children to Kimmy's birthday party had refused to come in the backyard to chat or even meet him--I pointed out that his friends just did the same thing to me. I then retired to the tent to lay in front of the fans we had brought. He said I was pouting, but I was trying to cool off, literally and figuratively.

Billy had started to break out in a heat rash. He has really bad eczema--landed him in the ER last year--so heat is a big problem with him. Chris packed us up in the truck and drove to WalMart...and bought an air conditioner for the tent! We had talked about it for the three-day camping trip, but I was sure we could last one night without one! And I was fine as long as I laid down in front of that fan. I knew it could only get better as it got darker and cooler. I was prepared to tough it out. But, with the rest of the family whining about heat and lack of a TV, I turned out not to be the biggest sissy in the family! It did make it cooler in there, but I worry that it will make me want to hang out in the tent all day instead of being out doing other things!

There was a Vietnam reunion at the lake this weekend, so when it got dark, we drove over to watch the fireworks display they had. After that, we went back to the campsite and went to bed. I thought the girls would be scared and would end up sleeping with us, but they must have been really worn out because they fell asleep right away. Billy took a little more time and woke up once in the night crying and screaming. It took a long time to get him calm again. I woke up a few times, listening to the sounds of crickets, locusts, frogs, and other noises that I couldn't identify.

When we awoke, I went to the screen house and found crumbs all around and all the cookies were gone and there had been a hole chewed in the bag of hotdog buns and most of the buns had been chewed up. We had forgotten to store the non-perishable food away and had just left it in the closed up screen house. We're guessing a raccoon raided us. Lesson learned.

We went and ate breakfast at Braum's in town. Then we packed up most of our camp and went fishing. Chris had restrung the kids' poles several times, but had let them practice casting and Billy and Kimmy's had gotten tangled until he was tired of fixing them and put them away. He and Kimmy fished on one side of a cove, while Arrena fished on the other side, with me and Billy cooling off with our feet in the water nearby. Billy didn't seem to mind that he wasn't fishing--he was amusing himself throwing rocks in the water and scooping up water in his bucket. I don't fish. I don't like the idea of the hooks in the fish's mouth or of "cleaning" the fish. When my dad used to take me fishing, he would give me a pole without a hook on it and I would just cast and reel in all day and be perfectly happy with that. I think daddy was proud because it reminded him of one of his favorite songs (Red Sovine's Daddy's Girl: "I recall the day I took you on a fishin' trip. You said: 'Daddy won't that hook hurt the fish's lip?' And you said if they don't get air, those things in the can will die. So we turned the worms all loose and chased some butterflies. Daddy's Girl, Daddy's Girl, I'm the center of Daddy's world. I know I'm Daddy's number one, for he loves me like I was his son. Daddy's Girl."). Anyways, the fishing only lasted about 20-30 minutes and we realized that the boats were too close (we were getting waves) and were scaring the fish. So, we loaded up, broke camp, and headed home.

Chris said, "I don't think this family was cut out for camping." I said, "We spent enough money on gear, a year-long parking permit, a fishing license, and an a/c unit we don't need. I don't care if we hate it, we're going to keep on camping and get our money's worth out of it!" It wasn't so bad (except for the heat). The only other bad part was that there was a group of teenagers nearby and they liked to tromp right through the middle of our campsite to get to the bridge. So rude. I would open my mouth to tell them off, then stop, trying to let my husband be the man of the family, but he never did say anything to them. I expected him to, I wanted him to, but was surprised when he didn't. He said that they are the type of jerk teenagers who would come back when we were asleep or away from the campsite and either steal or vandalize our stuff, so he just let it slide.

The only real outdoorsman of the family was Billy! Where we had camped, we were within walking distance of a bathroom, but a little too far for a three-year-old who is in the middle of potty-training. So, since he was a boy, Chris told him to pee in the bushes behind our tent. At first, it scared Billy. He couldn't do it. But, he finally acclimated to the idea and before we knew it, we'd look around wondering where he was and see that he was by the bushes, back to us, with his shorts around his ankles. Then he'd run over and exclaim excitedly, "Me go pee-pee!" I took a picture of this--but it's for the blackmail file, so I won't post it here! Then when we got home, hot and tired, wanting nothing more than a bath and to relax on the couch in front of the TV, enjoying the air conditioning, he immediately grabbed his sidewalk chalk and headed out to the back porch to sit in the heat and play. I couldn't believe it!

If nothing else, we learned what we need to do for a longer trip--for example, secure the food and I want an oscillating fan for the screen house--the wind doesn't penetrate the screen very well. It was a good trial run. I think with practice and repetition, we could learn to like camping. Though, I think spring and fall would be better seasons for us!

I wish I hadn't scheduled the girls' tea party so soon after our camping trip, but it was too late to change my mind. It was fun for them. My mom wondered why she had never done something like that for me.

After all of the adventures, I feel like a wrung out dishcloth. I think this week, especially with the hot forecast, will be a week to relax and recuperate.

Feeling Sorry for Arrena

Arrena blew a gasket yesterday morning. I guess her grandma (Chris' mom) babysat the kids Friday night while I was at work. Arrena woke up getting it all off her chest--she ranted and raved for a LONG time. I guess her grandma was "mean" to her. We have always thought that she was hard on Arrena (yelling at her for twirling her hair around her finger) and it's obvious that her favorite is Kimmy. But, since Arrena favored my mom (who strives to make everything fair between the kids), we didn't worry about it too much. Arrena said that grandma told her she got on her nerves. And I guess she brought over some clothes for the girls and toy trucks for Billy and Arrena said that Kimmy and Billy got more than she did. Which paved the way for her complaint that grandma told them she wouldn't buy them gifts anymore except on their birthdays, but Kimmy gets something nearly every time she goes over there. Arrena went on and on, laying out everything. She even tattled on her grandma by saying that she was eating food out of the fridge (which is typical, but still ticks me off if she eats something that was planned for dinner). She concluded by saying that she never wants to be babysat by her again. Chris agreed that she didn't have to, and plans to take up the issue with his mom.

It all made me mad, of course, but what really got me was when I started to feel guilty. Arrena often gets overlooked, at least by me. She was the first baby and I had tried for a year to get pregnant, so when she was on the way, I was overjoyed. Since she was the first, she was an only child for 21 months and was babied a lot. I loved her so much, but from the beginning, it was obvious that she was daddy's girl and preferred him. Her first word (said three days before she turned three months old, I swear) was "daddy!" So, when Kimmy came along and preferred me above all, it seemed the die was cast. Arrena was daddy's girl and Kimmy was mine. And when Billy entered our family, he preferred me at first; but now, I think he equally loves both Chris and I. He loves his daddy time when I am at work, but when I am home, he's mama's boy. And as he is the last baby, I think I tend to cuddle and coddle him more. If that's not enough, Arrena has such attitude, especially with me. Maybe it's because she feels slighted by me. In any case, it's sometimes hard for me to feel close to her because she is daddy's girl and because she has such an attitude.

But, I started realizing that I think she has been reaching out to me lately. I've seen her trying to sit on laps, snuggle, cling, kiss, hugs, etc. I had thought she was just jealous--Kimmy is a very touchy-feely kid and thrives on hugs, kisses, snuggles. If you've read Gary Chapman's "Five Love Languages", Kimmy's love language is 'physical touch'. I think Arrena's primary love language is 'acts of service'. But, I thought since she was seeing her sister get hugs and kisses, maybe she felt left out, even if it really isn't her thing. I am generally NOT a touchy-feely person. I don't like people in my personal space. I'll hug my close friends, but generally, I feel uncomfortable with too much touching. After 13 years, I am accustomed to Chris being in my personal space and it doesn't bother me. And with the kids, as babies, they are constantly in your personal space--especially if you nurse them. You become accustomed to them being in your space. But, eventually, they get older and crave independence and don't want to be held and cuddled all the time. Billy is still demanding being held and cuddled, so I am used to him. Kimmy had started the independent thing years ago, but occasionally likes cuddles--it's not as familiar as it once was, so occasionally it makes me uncomfortable, especially if she is constantly hanging off me. I get irritable. With Arrena, she's not been a snuggle-bunny since she was about two. So, five years of not being touchy-feely is hard to overcome. Don't get me wrong, I kiss and hug my kids daily. But, suddenly I have this 7-year-old kid crawling into bed with me and instead of staying on her side, like she used to, she's snuggled up tight against me. Every time I turn around, she seems to be laying a sloppy wet kiss on me. She's taken to slapping me on the backside (don't know where that came from, but it ticks me off!). Every time I turn around, I am tripping over her. And she is constantly hanging all over me. My personal space is gone and it is driving me crazy.

But, after her tirade yesterday about her grandma, I started thinking about all this and how it's easier for me to hug and kiss Kimmy and Billy, but so hard to cuddle Arrena. I suddenly feel so sorry for her. I think she gets overlooked a lot. She's the oldest and we expect her to know what to do. I think she gets in trouble a lot because we expect more from her. And her attitude alone gets her in the most trouble. She's generally such a good kid and a great helper that I think we sometimes almost forget her. Granted that since she's older, she gets to do more than her siblings, but I can see where she would feel like the red-headed stepchild. So my goal is to overcome this aversion to the touchy-feely to give her more affection and to show her attention--not as the younger kids get, but as a growing oldest child. I don't want to reward her sometimes baby-like behavior (trying to get our attention), but to treat her more like an adult. Take her shopping with me, talk to her more, have fun together. She's been begging for one-on-one time with both Chris and I. Hopefully she and I can bond.

Today we went to the zoo and the park. My husband said we were dumb because it's been cloudy and REALLY windy all day. But, the forecast said it wouldn't storm until later, so we enjoyed the cooler weather. We decided to pack it in when we were at the park and a tree split in half and half fell over the picnic table we had been eating at and the swing I had been sitting in only moment before! Yikes! Well, it makes for a good blog anyways.



At the zoo, one of the elephants decided the grass was greener on the other side...of the ravine that separates them from the people. So, she was reaching her trunk all the way over, her knees bent to stretch farther, only inches from us. It was so cute.

I meant to write and brag about my kids sooner. Arrena always deserves bragging because she is such a little grown-up and such a good helper. Sunday at church, Kimmy & Billy's Sunday school teachers were just raving about them. She said Kimmy is like their little ambassador, always very friendly to new kids. And she said Billy is always so good, which made me wonder if she had the wrong kid. Billy is never very good at home. But I am glad he is good elsewhere. I always worry.

Billy was so cute yesterday. The girls and I were saying our prayers and he wanted to pray. He folded his hands, bowed his head, and said, "Thanks [for] popcorn."

Summer's Here

I can't believe that today is the last day of school! Where did the year go? It seems like it was just last week that I was dropping the girls off for their first days of kindergarten and first grade and now the year is over. For some reason, it is easier for me to accept Arrena getting older than for Kimmy. Maybe because Arrena always acts so grown up anyways and Kimmy has always been my baby girl. It seems the older I get, the faster time flies. It makes me really sad sometimes when it seems like a year is gone in just a blink of an eye. The things I mean to do and the things I want to get done--and then the moment is gone. You turn around and your children are growing up on you. It makes me sad because I realize that 15 years will fly by before I know it (15 blinks) and Billy will be 18 and my last child will be gone from the nest. 15 years seems so long, in theory, but it seems it goes faster and faster. I was groaning about having all the children around, driving me crazy all summer, but with the knowledge that our time together is quickly passing, I find myself wanting to make it memorable and enjoy them instead of dreading the sibling rivalry and fights.