1-7-2021 Journal Entry, aka Little Updates

Yesterday was Billy's first day back at school.  I also had a therapy appointment and went with Kimberly to get her tags for her car.  She had to euthanize her fish because I had sprayed the room with disinfectant and some must have landed in the tank because the fish was getting spots and dying.

Tara told me on the phone that she got her first dose of the Covid vaccination last week.  They offered it by age to those still qualified to work on the ambulance.  So, Scott could have had it, but it's 2 months too late.  I don't know if he would have taken it anyway--he never got flu shots.

I was so tired, I went to bed when Billy did, didn't listen to my nightly audiobook and slept 12 hours.

We had a Zoom meeting today about Billy's Community Integration and ISD services (I don't remember what it stands for, something like independent skills development, I think).  They should start in the next couple of weeks with going to youth group and volunteering at either the zoo or an animal shelter, in addition to teaching him basic skills to be an independent, functioning adult.

I haven't cried in 3 days, I think.  I say that and I'll prob bawl tonight.

Not to say my depression is gone.  It was here before I lost Scott.  I think I am going to really have to push myself to get through it.  Though I was pushing before and it wasn't helping.

I feel accomplished if I do one thing, like put groceries away or do the dishes or cook dinner without calling DoorDash.  I need to push to do more.  Tomorrow I have to organize the living room because Kimberly wants to clean it on Saturday.  It's very cluttered.

I got an email that the life insurance check is on the way.  I didn't know how long to expect.

Waiting

(written 10/28/13)

Need. To. Rant.

Waiting.  I'm tired of waiting.  If it was just for me, that'd be one thing, but this is my son, who has special needs who doesn't understand waiting, nor does he have the ability to wait.

Waiting.  Since he was an infant, I have been struggling with his tantrums, his oddities, his differences.  Now he's 8.  Eight years of waiting and trying to mold him into a good young man, a contributing member to society.

Waiting.  For almost four years now, we have been waiting for doctors and counselors to help us with him.  To head off major problems like suspensions, expulsions, injuring others, and self-injurious behavior.  Four years and all of those major things have happened anyway.

Waiting.  Tired of waiting for doctors and counselors to stop acting self-important and start helping my son, we started seeking evaluations and were put on months-long waiting lists.

Waiting.  Waiting for the school to recognize the problem that we had seen all along.  Day after day of destructive and violent behavior and time spent in the recovery room with the behavior interventionist or being sent home because they can't handle him, yet refusing to assess him for special education, even with a doctor's recommendation, and calling his behavior "average" when they are forced to assess him.

Waiting.  Waiting for evaluation reports to be sent and for assessment testing to be completed.  Waiting for the verdict of what they are going to do with him.

Waiting.  Answers to simple questions that no one wants to respond to.  Listening to people back-pedal and explain and skirt around the issue and refuse to acknowledge me.

Waiting.  The state's finding that the school was not in compliance with state law after a two-month investigation, which brought out lies and covering up.  Findings that will not likely help anything since what's done is done and there's not much they can make up for.

Waiting.  Two months before appointments were available with a new psychiatrist and a new therapist, who will hopefully be able to help more than the others did.

And meanwhile, in the midst of all of this by people who decided at some point in their life that they wanted to help children yet have lost the focus somewhere along the way, there's a little boy who is lost.  A little boy who doesn't understand why he is the way he is.  A little boy that feels unliked by his peers and different from the other kids, made abundantly clear by isolation inflicted by the school.  A little boy that is so anxious about making mistakes that he won't even try.  A little boy who is so frustrated with it all that he has asked numerous times to be checked into a hospital so someone can fix him.  A little boy who is so depressed that he often remarks that he wishes he was dead or that he wants to kill himself and a couple of times has been prevented from grabbing knives to do harm to himself.  A little boy that thinks he is all alone and no one else understands or has struggled like he does.  A little boy who has to try five times as hard as the next kid to pay attention and learn and comes home exhausted from the effort.  A little boy who learns differently and processes slower but is expected to keep up with the status quo.  A little boy who can't even enjoy birthday parties or theme parks or entertainment centers because it's too overwhelming for him.  A little boy with a hyperactivity problem that is expected to sit still all day and had his recess taken away long-term last year.

Bureaucracy and covering your own rear end.  That's what it's all about.  Not about this little boy that has been on crisis mode.  When did the school become this way?  And it's not just him.  I hear stories from other parents who have been fighting the same battle.  There exists a parent advocacy group just because this happens so often.  And even aside from special education, the stories I hear from my daughters about what goes on at school, the lack of teaching, the kids in crisis that no one seems to care about.  Little girls who are not little girls anymore, but exposed to sexuality and violence and drugs as young as the fourth grade.  Having to explain to your daughter what a vibrator is because her 9-10 year old classmate said she was using one and being afraid to allow what used to be an innocent slumber party because fifth grade classmates decided to experiment with homosexuality after their parents went to sleep.  Girls that are so confused that they are cutting themselves and contemplating suicide and experimenting sexually and getting pregnant as early as age 13.  In schools where rapes can occur during school hours.  Teachers yell at them to "shut the f*** up!" or laugh along with other students at special needs' kids and don't defend students against peer bullying, despite all the attention called to the bullying problem in this country.  I know there are good teachers out there (one example) and we have known some excellent ones, but they are outnumbered and fighting an uphill battle.  And in most cases, the problem is lack of parenting.  It just makes me sick.  I know we can't shut ourselves off to the world, even if it feels like we should.  But, how long, Lord?  How far will it go before you return?  I wonder if we are better or worse than it was in the days of Noah when God was sorry He made man and destroyed all but one righteous family.

We are waiting, Lord, for your return.  Anxiously.

Decisions, Decisions

I really hate making decisions.

You thought I was going to say more, didn't you?  Fooled you.

Well, not really.

So, currently, my husband and I have been pondering some decisions about our family.  Off and on, we talk about moving.  My husband is a partial owner (with his mom and his two aunts) of his family's farm.  A couple of years back, he and I went out there for a Czech celebration in the town and looked through the museum that contained a lot of his family's history and I was able to see the two properties that make up the farm.  His grandfather sold off the piece of land that contained the farmhouse, but a neighbor continues to farm the land for them.  At the time we were out to visit, the current occupants of the farmhouse were trying to sell the house and move out of state.  We started talking then about what it would be like to move out to the old farmhouse.  At that time, it was sort of a "what if" or "wouldn't it be nice" or "someday" kind of discussion.  We tabled it and moved on.  At the time, the kids weren't totally opposed to it when they heard that they might be able to have a horse or other farm animals.

There are several reasons why this topic has come back up lately.  For one, we know that my husband cannot continue to be a metropolitan paramedic until retirement.  The job is hard on the body and we can't conceive of him jumping in and out of an ambulance and running around and lifting patients, etc. when he is 60+. So, we began to think of other options.  He could use the bridge program to become a nurse, but that will be time and cost intensive.  The other idea was to move to the country and be a rural EMS worker because there would be a lot less activity than he gets in an average day in the big city of Kansas City, Missouri.

The other reason this has come up is because of the issues we have been having with the children.  Would it be more beneficial to them to move out to the country and to attend a smaller rural school?  Would I worry about them less if the "village" helps to look after them?  I know that they can get into just as much trouble in the country or a small town as in a large city, but I think I could give them more freedom, there would be less dangers, life would be slower, secrets would not stay secret, etc.  Would peace and quiet and a slower lifestyle be beneficial to Billy?  Would the girls have more opportunities to have close friends while I can know their parents, giving them more opportunities to spend time with friends?  Would a simpler, quieter life force us to spend more time on the most important things: God, family, and friends?  There are days when I very much envy the lifestyle of the Amish.  I know that's idealistic because I seriously doubt I would enjoy cooking all day from scratch, the cleaning, the sewing, the gardening, all the hard work.  But, I sometimes regret the technology we have and long for the simpler life.

Another reason may be selfish, but as the old saying goes, "if mom ain't happy, ain't nobody happy!"  Granted, I have never been a country girl.  I embrace a lot of country girl ideals, but the fact of the matter is that I was born in the city and have lived in the city or suburbs all my life.  I don't know any other way.  That made me wary, at first.  Could I cope with being far away from the nearest store, mall, or fast food restaurant?  I like convenience.  I like being able to run somewhere "real quick."  I hate having to drive too far to find what I am looking for.  I am a forgetful person and I have lost count of how many times I have gone grocery shopping, only to realize I have forgotten items and had to make a return trip.  And while I have previously been a go-getter with plenty of energy, I am getting older and have gained weight and have plenty of aches and pains.  I no longer have the energy I did.  I am trying to lose weight to regain the energy, but my fear is that it is gone forever.  I do not like hard labor.  I am tired.

But, because I am tired, I sometimes long for the peace and quiet of a rural setting.  I have been recently grappling with the idea that I am seriously screwed up.  I joke about being crazy, but the truth is that I have some very real mental and emotional issues.  Some days, I find the world so overwhelming, I want to retreat.  While isolation may seem depressive and the wrong way to deal with things, I am beginning to think that it is the only way I can cope with life and the world.  Some days it is too much to deal with.  Overload is not fun for me.  I am beginning to wonder if some isolation would be beneficial to my mental and emotional health.  Would I be a better wife and mother if I had some measure of peace?

However, the downsides to a possible move are many.  While I don't think that Billy or Kimberly would mind the move terribly much, Arrena has voiced violent opposition to this plan.  She does not want to leave her friends.  Having faced the same situation when I was a teenager, I can totally relate and sympathize.  I was a brat and refused to let my mom move.  However, I have learned that the friends and boyfriends that I was loathe to leave behind are nowhere to be found now.  I am reluctant to move the kids again, though.  They have had enough stress and trauma and moving around in their lives that I would hate to uproot them again and thrust them in a totally new and unfamiliar environment.  I had hoped that this would be our last move and the kids could call Raytown/Kansas City their home forever and would stay at their current schools throughout.  However, they are not the first kids to ever have to move around.  And compared to some, have hardly moved around at all.  My mom's family moved around a lot in search of work.  She attended 13 schools in her lifetime.  Military families do it all the time.  So, I am sure they would survive, though there might be a good measure of pouting for a while.

I also don't want to leave my house.  While I love looking at different houses and imagining dream homes, I am attached to this house.  We added on to this house just 3 years ago and I was able to get everything I wanted in the add-on.  Our bedroom is oversized to allow for a couch and a TV (though sometimes that makes me feel like I am isolating myself from my kids).  We have a jacuzzi tub in the bathroom along with a separate shower stall with dual shower heads.  We had a second washer/drier hookup installed, so we could both keep our washers and driers and be able to wash laundry in half the time.  I was able to pick out the color and the flooring just the way I like it.  I was able to fulfill a lifelong dream of painting a sky/cloud scene on my bedroom wall, which makes my room an extremely peaceful place for me. And even in the rest of the house, I have made some improvements to make it "our home" such as painting Billy's room Spiderman colors, and doing a pink and purple cowgirl theme in the girls' room.  While I know we could remodel and make a new house "our home," I just hate the thought of giving up this space that I and my husband designed just for us.

I also don't relish the thought of leaving my church family or my job.  While I would love to again be a stay-at-home mom or just a photographer on my own terms, I do love my job taking newborn photos at the hospital.

While one of the points in favor of moving would be that the cost of living would be lower and we could better afford our bills, moving in itself is an expensive undertaking.  It costs a lot to be in transition on selling a house, buying a new house, moving from one job to another, moving trucks, trips back and forth, fixing things to make the current house attractive to buyers or fixing things to make the new home livable, etc.

Then there's always the dilemma of WHERE to move.  Is the family farmhouse still available?  If not, would it be silly to move to the area anyway?  Where can Scott find a job?  And what's the distance in relation to where the kids' dad lives because you can't be too close or too far away?  Or what about the distance to our family, who we'd like to visit and have come visit us?  It might be fun to buy his Aunt's trailer in Branson, but would our growing family have enough space in a trailer?  It would be awesome to live right on the lake, but there would be a lot of work to be done to make it livable year-round.  And I'm assuming the cost of living in Branson would be higher due to the tourist industry.

One of my best friends is moving to a small town in northern Kansas and I am mourning that loss.  We even talked about Scott getting a job with the company that hired her husband, brother, and brother-in-law.  But, that would be a total change of job field for Scott, which is a major life change.  And with her sister and brother living nearby, it might be silly of us to follow her when her time will obviously be divided.  The draw for Scott to following them is that the company and the community sounds very faith-based.

The other decision we have been weighing briefly was sending the kids to a Christian school.  I was raised in public schools and did just fine.  Scott spent his whole life in Christian schools, so we have different backgrounds.  And we have different views.  I wrote a paper about this in college, stating in essence, that in a perfect world, the choice of education would be based on each individual child as each child is different and will learn and grow differently in different environments.  However, it isn't necessarily feasible to have one child in public school, one in Christian school, and one being home-schooled.

We started discussing this because of the issues with the children.  Both girls have been breaking the rules and having boyfriends behind our backs, sometimes lying and covering up their deception.  Both girls have been having attitude problems, Kimberly getting into trouble for mouthing off to her teacher.  Billy is obviously struggling at school.  I have been concerned about Arrena's school since I heard there was a rape there during school hours two years ago.  And there is the friend issue.  Arrena believes that Kimberly's friends are bad influences on her and tells us this all the time.  And based on some of the things Kimberly was hearing at school and Google-ing to find out what it meant, I am inclined to agree with her.  Arrena gets so angry when we bring this up, but she told me at one point that her friends were telling her that her mom would never know if she had a boyfriend, so she should just go ahead and have one.  She says not all of her friends said this and it was an isolated incident that we shouldn't judge her friends on.  But, obviously there is some concern about the influence on them.  With all of the difficulties our family has had, we have been seeking a Christian counselor to work with us, that understands our values.  So, the same could be argued about the kids' education.

I am not one that believes sending them to a Christian school will solve all their problems.  I know there are bad kids in private school too.  I also believe that their primary education should come from home because if it isn't taught and modeled at home, there is little the school can do.  The teachers cannot raise our children.  However, I sometimes think it might be nice to have that reinforcement, to have them being taught the Bible in school, to have friends and teachers that share their faith.

One of the downsides, again, is taking them away from what they have grown accustomed to.  Again, I think Kimberly and Billy would do okay with it, but Arrena would fight and struggle with starting over somewhere.  But, it wouldn't be like moving far away.  She could still see her friends, just after school not during school.  The biggest drawback is the cost.  It is so expensive that there is really no way we could afford it.  We could try to get financial aid and I have heard some about getting government funding to be able to choose private education over public education, since, as taxpayers, we pay for the public school system.  But, it would boil down to Scott having to work a LOT of extra shifts, which is hard when his shifts are 24 hours.  Or it would entail him going to school to be a nurse to make more money, which initially costs more money and takes a while to complete.  It seems like it's impossible, but we know that nothing is impossible.

While Arrena totally flew off the handle when she caught wind of some of these decisions, without hearing the reasoning or understanding that it was simply TALKING, not a done deal by far, I know that these things may never come to fruition and if they did would be a while down the road.  We will pray for God's guidance.  If He leads us to move or send the kids to a Christian school, then by all means, we will follow.  But, if the doors remain shut, then it's a non-issue.  My thought at this point would be for Scott to put out some feelers, some resumes, for us to research and look around, be informed and then see what God does!

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.

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!

Where, Oh Where, Has My Six-Year Old Gone?

I got an alarming phone call this morning. I dropped both of the girls off at school before the 9am start time and went home. Around 10am, the house phone rang. I never answer that phone because no one of importance ever calls on that line. Only telemarketers. Arrena uses that phone to talk to her friends. Chris and I use our cell phones and we are in no danger of using up our minutes (now texting is another issue altogether...). But, Billy grabbed the cordless and brought it to me, pushing the "talk" button just before he thrust the receiver into my hands. I listened and it was an automated message from the school, informing me that Kimmy had an unexcused absence for today. I panicked. She's too innocent to think about skipping school and where would a six-year old go anyways? And even if the thought of skipping occurred to her, she loves school. I saw her walk in with her sister, so where could she be? Could she have been snatched? Could they have lost her...again? I grabbed my cell phone and dialed the school and reached the attendance office and said, "I just got a call that my daughter has an unexcused absence for today, but I dropped her off this morning, so I want to know what is going on." She put me on hold for what seemed like forever. I was imagining crazy scenarios, pacing, ready to race out the door to get to the bottom of her disappearance, and determining that the first course of action should be to summon Arrena to give an account of her sister's whereabouts. Finally the lady came back on the line and said it had been a mistake, that Kimmy was, indeed, in class. Her teacher had marked the wrong student absent. So, then I spent the next quarter of an hour getting my blood pressure back down to normal.

When I went to pick them up from school, Arrena got to me first and had to spill the beans that Kimmy had lost her first tooth while at school. My poor little baby! I have dreaded this. She has such a cute little smile with her little baby teeth all lined up. I hated the thought of her losing those teeth. She hates it too. She sees the hodgepodge in Arrena's mouth (adult teeth, baby teeth, gaps where there are currently no teeth) and she wants no part of that. And now she has this little lisp that she didn't have before. It's quite alarming. It's like I took one child to school and got a whole different one back! She does look cute, but I will so miss that smile of hers. She's growing up on me! I took her out in the back yard the other day and took some pictures of her. I knew that she would lose that tooth any day and I wanted a few last shots of that dazzling grin. I hope you enjoy them too.

I am amazed at her, though. She is picking up reading like you would not believe. She has surpassed Arrena, though I hate to say that. She sometimes gets frustrated with Arrena's reading speed and will cut her off and read things FOR her. I can't tell whether Arrena is relieved that she doesn't have to read or if she is jealous that her sister can read better than she can. But, I think Kimmy owes a lot of her success TO her sister because she has learned from Arrena. Last year in Kindergarten, she was learning three-letter words with short vowell sounds and that was about it. All the books they read consisted of two and three-letter words with short vowells and a few sight words. That's not an easy feat, to write a book like that, if you think about it. Kimmy has only been in first grade for less than a month, so I doubt she has aquired this much additional skill at school already. She was reading to me the other night and I was AMAZED at the words she could read without help. I believe some of it is that her sharp mind makes logical jumps. She sees where a story is going and fills in the words that should logically come next. But, the rest has to be her recognizing the words. I jotted down some of the ones that amazed me: showed, himself, nobody, baskets, palace, smiled, climb, perhaps, and mystery. Those may seem easy to you, but to a child whose previous books have consisted of lines such as, "Pam is a cat. The cat sat on my lap. I pat the cat," it's not too shabby! The other thing I like about her reading is that she puts feeling and inflection in her recitation too. And she's quick too. She is supposed to read for ten to twenty minutes a night for her "homework"--I have been having to make her read two books (or one more difficult book) because she goes through them so fast. She is highly intelligent. She can tell you about most any animal. And if she doesn't know, she goes and grabs one of her myriad of animal encyclopedias and finds out! It's hard to find the balance of being proud of her and encouraging her while at the same time, not making Arrena feel bad, as though she were in her baby sister's shadow.

Enquiring Minds Want to Know...Apparently?

Ha, ha. My frivolous musings about my hair apparently were of some interest. At the risk of embarrassing her, one of my friends called me Tuesday and Wednesday before finally reaching me today just to know how my hair had turned out! I had been waiting to mention it until I could take some photos and I didn't want to do that, first, before the 48-hour sanction on washing it had been lifted and, second, until my psychotic hair recovered from its shellshock. I don't think it's quite there yet, but I decided to take a couple anyways to share with you.

Well, let me say that it wasn't a horrible experience--I am not running around with a paper sack over my head or racing to another beautician to have the damage repaired. However, it wasn't a success, per se. I really wanted to like my hair because the girl that did my hair was so, so sweet. She talked about her family, I talked about mine. When my hair was processing, she sat down across from me to chat. I knew this wasn't to be a lasting relationship though, because she said that she wanted to go somewhere like Kansas City when she graduates. There was another girl that was supposed to be further along in her education than my stylist, who was trying to help, but she was annoying and flaky. My stylist was much more professional. However, I don't think that she used enough solution on me. When I came in, I told her what I was looking for, a loose curl that I could straighten when I wanted to. She decided on orange rods, but her instructor vetoed that. She said to use the smaller purple rods because my hair is so long, it will be heavy and weigh it down. That all sounds good, but my hair is very fine, so there isn't enough weight on it at all. I think we would have been better with the other rods (another friend, upon seeing my hair, immediately proclaimed that the rods were too small). Then her instructor told her she would probably have to use two bottles of solution on me and to make sure that she thoroughly saturated each strand. I have always needed two bottles and my hair is even longer now than it ever was back when I was getting perms. Except I only saw her use one bottle. And my hair didn't feel near as drippy as it usually does when I get a perm. I am usually itchy and tickly because of the solution running all over my scalp. She had me hold a towel over my face, so I didn't see all of what she did, but I remember noticing a lack of cold wet sensation in the lock of hair over my left eye. Granted my hair has definitely changed in the last ten+ years since I last had a perm, but my hair always took to perms REALLY well. You can tell from the pictures, even if I was acting a little silly (forgive me) that I have flat spots. It looks like I have had a perm that is now old and relaxed and I am in need of another one. Not happy with it, but I can live with it. I figure in about three months, I'll try another one. A friend of mine recommended her stylist, so we'll see if we can't do any better. Live and learn, huh?


The girls are okay at school. Kimmy comes home nearly every day with some woe: someone accidentally knocked a chair over on her or she had a sore throat all day, etc. Arrena's only complaint is the playground equipment. I think they split the age groups that are on the playground at the same time. Kimmy goes to lunch at a different time and she plays on the good equipment while she is there. Arrena isn't allowed to. Chris plans to take her to play at the playground Saturday just to make her happy.

I emailed Kimmy's teacher, as you know, about her being left in the bathroom during the fire drill. She apologized and said she would reassure Kimmy. She assured me that there is a crisis team and the custodians who check bathrooms and every other room to make sure all students get out of the building in case of an emergency. I thought she tried to place part of the blame with Kimmy when she remarked that she tries to get the kids to use the bathroom at certain times of the day and that that wasn't one of those times. I told her that Kimmy just came from a school where there were bathrooms in the classrooms and the children were urged to go any time they needed to without having to ask for permission and that Kimmy often has tummyaches and goes to the bathroom pretty frequently. She said Kimmy HAD been complaining about her stomach hurting and was glad to get that information. She said that she would allow Kimmy to go whenever she wanted to.

Tonight there was a first grade parents' meeting. Kind of silly--to tell us about the homework folders. I've never needed extensive explanation about those so far! Up to now, explanations were either in the form of a note or given when we met the teacher at a conference before school started. Anyways, there were so many rude, unruly children there--most of those parents have no control! I would have lost it if my child were to act like that, in the library, no less! When we first walked in, Kimmy's teacher made a bee-line to me and said that she had noticed Kimmy wearing an Awanas shirt and that she had talked about going to church. She said she was a Christian and wanted to ask where we went to church. I told her and she said she had grown up in a similar denomination and that she did some sort of ministry with missions (my memory is SO bad). I told her that Kimmy's grandparents were leaving in a few weeks to be missionaries to the First Nations people in Canada, so we are very sensitive to missions. She was pleased. I was impressed that she was so open about it, saying all of this in full hearing of other parents. Some teachers tend to shy away from public proclamations of that sort for fear of being caught up in some separation of church and state scandal. I remember the conversation I had with the girls' old gym teacher about that subject. Kimmy's teacher last year was a Christian and regularly prayed for the students, so Kimmy gets to continue with that trend this year. Hopefully they will both grow to like their school.

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.

Okay, so maybe it was MY PMS that pushed me over the edge, but it hasn't gotten any better...

I contacted the superintendent of the Derby schools and he basically just said that the time in the school is only considered when you are applying for a transfer and still live in the Derby school district. When you are in another school district, it basically amounts to nothing--you are no different than anyone else applying to attend. Totally unfair, huh? So, we hit a dead end. The REALLY great (sarcasm) thing is that I researched the school that the girls will go to and am NOT impressed. The scores are much lower and the school is mostly low income students. One of the forms I downloaded to fill out for admission was a permission slip to be able to give the students (all grade levels) information about HIV/AIDS. Can you believe that? I'm sorry, but I don't think my first and second graders need that information and if they did, I would give it to them. Well, think about it--what are the ways that HIV is transmitted? Shared needles (haven't seen too many first and second graders shooting up, and if they are, that's a parent problem!), unprotected sex (again, first and second graders? If so, where are the PARENTS?), blood transfusions (which is regulated now)--are there any others I've missed? It's extremely rare for HIV to be contracted through cuts or injuries, so I don't see the point of telling small children these things. Just another red flag for the quality of this school.

So, then when Chris heard all of this, he wanted to move. I don't want my children in that school either. I want them in their old school as much as he does, but I am just not sure if we can swing a sudden move! There's the cost involved, plus it's not the best time--school starting, family reunion/vacation to Oklahoma, and the party we are hosting for Chris' foster parents. Not to mention, are there any decent houses in the area? We looked into private school a couple of years ago and I refreshed my memory--it would cost over $700 a month to send the girls to either of the bigger Christian schools in the area.

Stress level just elevated! But, Chris calmed down and said they would just have to tough out the year and maybe we can find a house to move to in the next year. And, he added, he would be all over the teachers and principal to make sure that the girls are receiving a good education this year.

My stomach is all in knots and I am still so angry about all of this. I just pray that this year doesn't ruin anything, that Arrena doesn't regress from the progress she's made. It took a lot of effort last year on the part of her teacher, her reading lab teacher, and me to get her to the point where she could move on from first to second grade. I guess I am going to have to step up wherever the school fails. I hope I am ready for the challenge. I pray for strength and wisdom....

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....

My Ambitions

I have been thinking about what I want to do when Billy starts school in two years. If the way time has been flying by lately is any indication, those two years will be gone before I know it. I had thought I might change my work schedule and work during the day and be home at night, but decided against that. First there's the practical reasons--what if one or all of the kids get sick, what about inservice days/holidays/summer, and what about helping out in the classroom? But, then there's also the selfish reasons--think of all the things I can be doing with my free time! At first, I was only thinking about being able to keep the house clean, lounge around and watch what I want on TV, work on my scrapbooking, and going to the store and other random errands by myself. And I was also looking forward to using that free time to be able to volunteer somehow. I'm not sure yet in what capacity, but I really want to help others in some way, whether it's serving lunch at the Lord's Diner or folding clothes at His Helping Hands or visiting at a nursing home or being a slightly older candy striper at a hospital. And I have often thought I would work on completing my degree. But, the other day, I decided that there are also some other things I would like to do. I want to take some "frivolous" classes. Some of these things may seem off-the-wall, even to those of you who know me well. I might like to continue my piano lessons, for example. I only took six months when I was in grade school--not even enough for one piano recital. It was enough to teach me to read music and that was about it. Or, I was thinking about taking guitar lessons. I could find a guitar at a pawn shop and learn enough just to putter around with. And as long as I am thinking about music, I have often thought of taking voice lessons. I love to sing--I can barely stand to just LISTEN to music--I feel compelled to sing along! It would be nice to improve my voice. Not that I plan on launching a professional music career, but it would be nice for me. Chris and I have talked about taking dance classes. Shhh...don't tell anyone that he said that--it might ruin his reputation! We thought it might be a fun activity for us to do together and possibly foster a little romance. I love dancing, but I am so clumsy and uncoordinated. But, it might be fun! I'd also like to take some computer courses. I know an average amount about computers, but I'd like to know more, especially HTML. And finally (so far), I think I might take some writing courses, as I'd like to eventually list my occupation as "writer." This blog is good practice, but I think some writing courses would be good for me as well. Maybe I will tackle one of these endeavors per school year. The only trouble is deciding which I want to do first--they all sound fun! Oh well, at lease I have two more years to decide.

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.

Lessons a 3-year-old teaches you, part 2

Our SUV has child safety locks that have malfunctioned--we can't turn them off. So, if you are in the back seat, someone has to let you out. The girls figured out that they can roll down the window and unlock the door, then let themselves out by lifting the outside handle. I wondered how long it would take for Billy to catch on to this. Yesterday was that day. We had gone to pick up the girls from school and were sitting in the car waiting for the bell to ring. We always turn the car off and roll down the windows. The next thing I knew, I heard a click, Billy yelling, and looked to see the door swinging open and Billy going with it. My first fear was that he would fall face first onto the sidewalk, but he was smart and held on. He started whimpering, "Help me, mama." I fought the urge to laugh and ran around to rescue him. He was hanging from the door, about 6 inches from the ground. I just knew all the other parents were sitting in their cars, nearly wetting themselves over this unexpected entertainment. I scooped him up in my arms and hugged him (he was so scared). He gets angry if you laugh at him, so I tried so hard to be the kind, compassionate mother ("Are you okay? It's okay, baby."), but I will admit that a few giggles did burst unbidden from my lips. I couldn't help it.

A similar incident happened just a couple of weeks ago. He had been leaning out of the car window when his sister Kimmy opened the door, knocking him off balance. He clung to the door and swung there for a brief second before I was able to grab him. Both of these incidents reminded me of my brother when he was little. I was about 7 and my brother would have been about 2. We were moving and mom and dad had rented a U-Haul or some such moving truck. It was huge to us kids. Anyways, being a boy, my brother wanted to ride in the cab of the moving truck. I don't remember who opened the door when we got there, maybe dad, but my brother had just then grabbed the handle and was swung out with the opening door. He said the only thing going through his mind was the words of a John Anderson song, "Just A-Swingin'."

The moral of this story? There are several. If you have a toddler, watch out before you open a car door. If you have a toddler, watch him at all times! You never know what that crazy kid will do! If you can, grow eyes in the back of your head. And if what you are leaning on, suddenly pulls out from under you, hang on tight so you don't fall down.