Spring Not-So-Much-of-a-Break

I'm limiting my post time today, since I really have a hundred other things I could should be doing.

Just thought I would update on the fabulous Spring Break we are all having around here.

Lex has had track practice and work.  Yesterday we scheduled time to shop for Prom dresses, and she found one that she liked.  It would have been convenient had she selected the dress I liked, since it would have required little-to-no alterations (one less thing to do, you know?).  I thought it was absolutely stunning on her - bright pink satin mermaid-style with a crystal brooch.  {Beautiful}.  She said she couldn't "move" in it.  She didn't like the color.  She didn't like how shiny it was.  I stopped pressing, realizing that it IS her Prom.  Instead, she selected a lovely light pink and silver lace dress.  It is darling on her, however, it is in need of alterations.  I now need to squeeze in time to shop for matching fabric (I'm a little worried about that), and to find a tailor.  It can be done, right?

Shilo has been taking a class this week to certify as a lifeguard.  Isn't it funny how you never really think about the time and commitment required for certain things?  I have always thought lifeguarding was the easy summer job.  Kind of like I used to think marching band and cheerleading were cake (uh, no).  

Shilo has been informing us daily that it is hard.  Very, very hard.  And, said she, just because you are a fairly fast swimmer, it doesn't make picking up a brick on the bottom of the 12 ft. end of the pool and swimming with it over your head (and out of the water so the brick can "breathe") down to the other end of the pool easier.  It doesn't make putting someone much bigger than yourself on a backboard in the deep end of the pool easier.  It doesn't even make escaping from someone hanging on you and pulling you under water easier.  And believe me, I have heard about it every day this week.  

How it's been the longest day of her life.  

How she doesn't get a Spring Break (hello, I know where you're coming from).  

But she's hanging in there.  I know she'll be glad she did it when it's all said and done.

Mauri has two weeks off from school, which is good, since this week is not-so-much-of-a-Spring Break.  I've told her to be patient.  Next Wednesday we can start planning something fun to do.

We've also been dog sitting this week for some friends that are off having a great time over the break.  It's been somewhat challenging, now that we have two pups of our own to manage.  The pups eat Leo's food.  Leo slobbers all over the pups.  We are I am taking dogs out to poo and walk nearly all day long.  Leo is a barker, and we are afraid the pups will pick up on the nasty habit.  

At this very moment, Leo is in the spot he prefers - under the desk.

And I've discovered that he has gas... because "it wasn't me." {Stinky}

I have determined that our days of dog sitting are done.  It was much easier before Jack and Ava came along.

I've been spending most of my time this week making these for the centerpieces for the Teacher Appreciation Dinner on Tuesday:

They are turning out great (thanks to Pinterest), but I have learned a LOT along the way.  The biggest lesson I learned is to BE SELECTIVE with what books you use, especially when you plan to display them in a church building at a Stake function.  My friend had given me a huge stack of books to use (free - which totally works for the budget), and I just grabbed some and started cutting.  The cutting is slow and tedious work, and by the time I had enough apples cut for the centerpieces, I had stiff, sore fingers (and arms and neck), and blisters.  In the process of painting and gluing the apples, I made a discovery.  A bad word.  I ripped the page out, no worries.  Then I saw another.  I wrestled with what to do.  What if, during the coarse of dinner, one (or more) of those students, parents, or teachers are staring at a page in a book-apple that is totally and completely inappropriate?  (In briefly flipping through the pages I found sex, drugs, and murder, oh my.)

So, today I tossed the unacceptable book-apples (4 out of 8), and made more, using elementary level books to be safe (like Winnie the Pooh).  I hope the rest are okay.  {Sigh}

I have gone over my time limit, and the dogs are beckoning.

Beach Hop

As I mentioned in my previous post, our ward was split last Sunday.  In two.  Right down the middle (kind of).  It didn't come as a surprise, since our ward has been so big that the seats are full to the back of the cultural hall every Sunday.  We knew it was inevitable, but that doesn't make it easy.  The biggest news for our family was that Billy-my-hero was called to be the bishop (which I internally pronounce "beach hop" thanks to a foreign exchange student I knew in my ward as a youth) of the new ward.  I should have seen it coming, with all the ruckus going on around here.  I chalk it up to Satan and his minions.  Trying to break us down.

Take yesterday, for example.

I subbed at the elementary school for what was supposed to be an hour, but turned into two.  As I glanced at my phone on the way home, I saw I had missed not-a-few communications in various forms.

Mar had broken her glasses at school.

I had forgotten to drop off the locker tags to the mom who was going to hang them.  I had stayed up until midnight the evening before making them so that they would be ready for her in the morning.  Ooops.  Epic flail.

Lex needed some instruction on a write-up she had promised to work on in exchange for my excusing her from a class at school, making what I had hoped would be a productive class-skipping, somewhat un.

And I had a very long voice message AND a very long text (broken into about four parts) about a musical number for the Teacher Appreciation dinner I'm in charge of in a couple of weeks (stressful all on it's own).

I took care of what I could take care of, then turned my focus on the other pressing matters of the day:
laundry and dishes.

That afternoon, I felt my unfortunate facial dermatitis (the doctor's generic term for I-don't-have-a-clue-what-it-is) flare up (I'm sure it's stress-induced), so I found my prescription and popped a pill around 5 pm, feeling frustrated that I have to deal with this little affliction at least twice a year.  Around 6, as I was quickly sending an email to co-locker-tag parents, the palms of my hands started itching like none other.  Then my tongue started to feel puffy and fat.  Suddenly (and I do mean suddenly), I broke out into massive amounts of hives all over my body.  My nose and lips started to swell.  I had never had a reaction like it before in my life.  Bill, only home for minutes between work and church, wasn't quite sure how to help, but grabbed the phone to call the doctor.  Then, for whatever reason, he thought maybe if he called 911, they could tell him IF it was an emergency or not.  When he mentioned it to me, I told him NOT to call, but it was too late.  He had dialed.  Within minutes we had a policeman at our door.  Then another.

They called the Fire and Rescue in.  With sirens.  Before I knew it, I was surrounded by half a dozen strange men, smelling like they had just finished (or were they in the middle of?) a strongly seasoned dinner, standing around watching me scratch.  

(Thanks for the pics, Rebecca)

Long story short, they encouraged me to go to the ER, and even offered to take me in the ambulance (seriously).  I thought it was all a ginormous over-reaction.  I declined, and told them that Bill and I would drive over to the hospital on our own.  By the time we were close, the itching had lessened (thanks to a hefty dose of Benadryl, I'm sure), and we decided to turn around and head home.  Drama over.

Or so I thought.

Bill headed off to the church for his meeting and I started to make dinner.  I put a pan on the stove, added a pat of butter, turned the burner on... then went into the office to send an email (what was I thinking?).  I'm pretty sure I had forgotten about the butter the instant I turned my back on the stove.
Next thing I know, my kitchen looks and smells like this:

Only Mar and I were home, so she grabbed the birds and the dogs and headed into the backyard.  I opened every door and window in the house, and turned on every fan.

"The good thing is:"

(thanks to a great talk at New Beginnings on Tuesday)

my house did NOT burn down

I did NOT have to call the Fire and Rescue dudes back

the birds did not die (thank you, Billats, for hosting them last night)

the dogs did not die

no one was seriously injured

my rash has gone away

 and I didn't waste a boatload of moo-lah on an ambulance ride OR an ER visit.

The older girls, who had been at a school event all evening, couldn't believe they had missed so much excitement.  I'm just praying for a better day today.  So far, so good.

A Question and An Answer

Last night Lex came home from New Beginnings (yes, it was late in the year, but turns out it was timely, since our ward was split in TWO on Sunday and this was probably the last function "together"), and found a big blue plastic bin in her bedroom that said this:

She opened it up and these flew out:

(There were actually 4 piggies, but two of them lost their lift while waiting, so they stayed put.)

Today she returned the bin with her answer:

Since Prom is quickly approaching (less than a month), Lex had better get hopping on finding a dress.

Date Night with a Beast

Mar and I went on a group date last night to see Beauty and the Beast.

We went to dinner at The Old Spaghetti Factory.

 The balloon man lady came around... Mar asked for a parrot.  It looked more like a twisted balloon stuck to her shoulder, but she was pleased as punch.  That's all that counts, right?

(The last time I was at the Spaghetti Factory was with Britt.  In December of 2004.

We were downtown to watch her Poms group perform in the Parade of Lights.)

Mar and I made it into our seats by the skin of our teeth, but thoroughly enjoyed the show.  I loved the portrayal of the Beast - a little more comical than I had seen in the past.  Afterwards, Mar purchased a souvenir locket keychain, because she hadn't purchased a souvenir for for-e-ver, and she really wanted something to remember our date by.

We had a great time, and decided that we need to plan dates more often.

My Table is Spread

I've been trying to use the Count Your Blessings technique a lot lately, feeling very much in the midst of affliction.  Upon reflection, I often realize that, when put in proper perspective (advice given to numerous members of my immediate family lately by our patriarch, Bill), my challenges and trials are very, very minimal.  They just seem to be coming in a steady stream, one-right-after-the-other, necessitating a regular, deliberate mind shift to the bright side.  And guess what?  It works.

My number one blessing to count today is the privilege to be the mother of amazing children, one of whom is celebrating a milestone in her life.  Twenty-one.  The magical age that perfectly blends maturity and youth.  The birthday that allows you to exchange your vertical drivers license for a horizontal one.  The birthday that will possibly be used someday in the far distant future as a comical reference - the ol' "It's the 15th anniversary of my 21st birthday!"  That is so funny.  (Britta, resist the urge.)

Britt, your card is NOT in the mail yet (today, barring unknown pending affliction), but know that I love you immensely. You are amazing and I am extremely blessed to have you for my daughter.

Happy Birthday!


Here are some other bright spots we've had in the past week:

Mar's artwork was featured in a district-wide art show at the mall.  The area where the art show was to be held is right next to The Cheesecake Factory and a gigantic Forever 21 (Happy Birthday, Britt).  I only mention this because even on a Thursday evening, the parking lot was PACKED.  We drove up and down rows of cars until I finally decided to try the other side of the parking lot.  I drove down the narrow street in between the main mall and the outdoor mall area, and smack dab across the street from the entrance to the mall, a miracle presented itself in the form of a parking spot.  I had to parallel park (not my forte), but we were able to walk across the street and directly into the doors of the mall where the art show was set up.  Blessing.

After admiring the various art forms and artwork by elementary school kids from near and far, we stopped to grab a bite at Cheeburger Cheeburger.

Fattening (for me) and yummy.


On Saturday we attended Lexee's first track meet of the season.  It was a League relay meet, so all running events (they had field events, too) were relays.  Lex participated on three relay teams.

The first two relays didn't do so well.  Hand-offs were far from efficient, and Shi and I commented that with the loss of a few of the top runners on the team (from relocation or lack of desire to participate), perhaps Legend was going to have a tough season.

 Then came Lex's final relay, the 800 Sprint Medley.  She was the lead-off 100 runner.
They rocked it.  First place.  New school record.
Blessing.  She was excited, happy, and had renewed confidence.  So did I.


And finally, yesterday Bill and I celebrated our 24th wedding anniversary.  We decided to keep it simple, and planned to go out to dinner and enjoy some one-on-one without child/phone/puppy interruption.  Just after we ordered, Bill's phone rang.  Lexee had blown a tire.  We told her we would come to help AFTER we finished our dinner.  On our drive to meet up with her, Bill and I had a few minutes to exchange verbal cards, since neither of us had found a spare minute to purchase a card (thank heavens... I was worried Bill would have one for me, then I would feel super lame).  It turned out to be a tender, touching, loving, sincere way to express our gratitude and love for each other.  I think I actually prefer it to a written card.
I'm going to make it a tradition from here on out.  If I remember.

Despite the short amount of uninterrupted time we had, it was a blessing to spend a few moments together.

 

Bill gave Lex and Hailey a lesson in putting on a spare tire, and, after I picked up Shi from swim practice (Lex's original assignment), we all headed home.

I won't even go into the afflictions of late.  It would be lengthy and boring, and would most likely sound like a spoiled child complaining about having to clean her own toilet... or vacuum out her own car... or pick up her own room...  with intermittent whining about how hard life is.  I realize my troubles are a pittance compared to some, and I really wouldn't swap with anyone else.  

My table is spread.

Stuck

The past few days have been hard.  Really, really hard.

It started Sunday evening.  We were preparing dinner when Lexee said, "Oh my gosh, Jack is eating a pin."  How could Jack get a pin, you ask?  It's a long story, but I'll try to condense it.  

The week of Britt's open house, instead of spending the week cleaning every nook and cranny, baking cookies up a storm, and working on general preparations, I thought I would take a day to whip out some drapes.  The drapes in my family room were nearly 10 years old, sun faded, and dusty.  I've never had drapes in my living/dining room, but had purchased the fabric for them 4 or 5 years ago.  It was the one home improvement project I thought would have the most impact for the open house.

A one day project, I surmised.  Nope.  It took me four long days.  

On the final day, I only had to finish up the drape for the 9ft. sliding glass door.  I figured I could have it done by noon.  Nope.  I tried getting the darn thing to hang straight after hemming three times.  Three times.  In exasperation (since the one-day project had turned to a four-day project, and this final, final thing just wasn't working for crying out loud), I decided to just pin the darn thing, with the intent to hand-hem it hopefully before the open house.  Nope.  Oh well, I thought, no one would ever go look at the hem of my drape on my glass slider at the open house anyway, which turned out to be an accurate supposition.  The pins have remained, of course, because that elusive "extra time" to finish them has not yet presented itself.  

Fast forward to Sunday.  Jack managed to pull one of those quilting pins out of the temporary hem, get it into his mouth sharp-side-first, which luckily, Lexee had observed.  Bill rushed over to hold Jack's mouth open, and asked Lex if she could see the pin.  She could, and Bill told her to try and grab it.

Then Jack swallowed.  Good-bye pin.  

We called the vet clinic and by pre-recorded message were instructed to call an animal emergency care facility, which we did.  Yes, swallowing a pin could cause some major issues.  Yes, we should get him to the facility as quickly as possible.

Short version:

2-hour wait (almost as bad as a people hospital)

lots of paperwork

x-rays (2 to be exact, at $110 a pop)

pin and ROCK (we didn't know about that one) located in Jack's stomach

shocking estimate of forecasted costs (I sobbed uncontrollably cried a few tears)

no other practical or humane options

surgery scheduled, paid for, and performed

long night with Ava, who couldn't sleep without someone nearby

Jack came home Monday afternoon, with the instructions of

No jumping.

No running.

No getting excited.

Special diet.

Nasty medication which may cause him to spit and foam (which he absolutely does).

Party hat.

Keep separated from Ava.

It's been a long, L-O-N-G couple of days.  We've discovered that it's nearly impossible to keep Jack from jumping, running, getting excited, eating whatever he can find in the backyard on his potty breaks, and getting medication actually down his throat.  The party hat (cone) has been a bit of a hindrance, but he's discovered ways to deal with it (which includes jumping, especially when he's on the grass scouting for delicious treats like deer poo -- he's realized that if he jumps from spot to spot, he doesn't get snagged on that darn brown, matted, wet spring grass).

And now I'm stuck at home.  And it's not easy.  It wasn't easy pre-incident, but it was manageable.  Now it's considerably harder.  We have one more week to go before the staples come out, then four more days before Jack should resume "regular" activity.  We've resorted to sleeping with the puppies, since neither one seems to be able to settle down on his/her own.  Jack doesn't smell so good, and a bath is a good week away.

I've been trying to look at the bright side, though.  Due to state testing at school this week, Lex has been home every day until about noon, and she has been an amazing help.  My husband has a job.  My family is healthy.  My house has not been blown away in a tornado.  I have two washing machines (laundry day today, so it's towards the top of the blessings list).  The puppies are currently NOT whining or barking.

Of course, there are a myriad of other blessings I can count, but I need to get back to my chores, since there is a fleeting moment of peace and contentment in the house.

4T4

It's my birthday.  I'm 44.  That's good news, since a week ago I thought I was turning 45.  I'm not kidding. I just categorize myself as "older," and am not the type to obsess about being younger.  Some of those famous people about my age are starting to look weird.  Artificial.  I really do prefer natural, graceful aging.  Does that mean I will never color my hair?  No.  I'm still undecided on that.  Does it mean I won't use eye cream to slow the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles?  No.  Although I'm not sure there is much of a difference between when I do and when I don't (I do use the cheap stuff).  I just want to be graceful about it, not gaunt and stretched and botoxed and implanted and I'm-50-going-on-20 about it.

Anyway, in celebration of my b-day, Shilo is on her second angel food cake of the day.  I'm sure it's the altitude.  She uses a cake mix, and had one glorious success a couple of years ago (seriously perfect), but for some reason, today, like the past few times we've tried, the cake fell in the last 5 minutes of baking (honestly, I think Betty Crocker changed the recipe).  I've been enjoying the unbeautiful rejected cake.  It IS my birthday.  I suggested she try convection baking #2 -- we haven't tried that before.  I, however, am no expert, the only things I convection bake are root vegetables.  It's worth a shot, though, and regardless of how beautiful or un- it turns out, it will taste good.

This morning I spent a couple of hours on Pinterest (because it's my birthday), which sometimes feels like a phenomenal waste of time.  I do, however, feel like I have pinned many wonderful and useful things that I plan to use someday.  Soon.  I have tried quite a few recipes, discovering that often those color-popped edited step-by-step pictures don't always mean a tasty dish in the end.  Even if it's beautiful to look at (which mine haven't necessarily been).  I think I've had more flops than successes, but that doesn't mean I'm swearing off Pinterest recipes for good.  I have wondered, however, just how many recipes a girl needs. I have this deep-rooted desire to have a repertoire of never-fail recipes that are beautiful, delicious, and easy.  I tell myself that is why I am on a never-ending hunt for such recipes, and Pinterest seems the perfect place to accumulate such a collection.

I have also wondered exactly when a girl knows she has enough pins, since I have plenty to keep me busy for a long, long time.

I have moved on to working on a Singing Time project, while my lovely daughters (no school today) dust, vacuum, clean and bake.  It's been heaven.

Mauri took a quick video of the puppies in their new Walmart sweaters ($5 vs. the $20 Petsmart -- or is that Petstupid?-- ones) on her ipod, I thought I would share.

Random-thought blogging -- another favorite thing to do.  So far I am loving today.