Five minutes…go!

Can’t blog because we took the kids to the temple grounds on Sunday instead.

Can’t blog because I’m enthralled with watching their imaginations.

Can’t blog because I want to do all I can for Phyllis.  Which happens to be networking and making a document to help those who CAN help her.  I’m so sad that the lung cancer is so aggressive and the chemo so overwhelming.    (and can’t blog cause I worried I did the wrong thing for a moment!)

Can’t blog because I was busy getting the Halloween boxes out (with Julie lifting, of course Mom!)  Can’t blog because I must get decorations out and costumes picked before I write about how much I hate the boxes in my living room.    And I must write about how little I hate the boxes in my living room.   God really has squashed the will to have thing complete right out of me. 

And 2 weeks later, we had 15 minutes to open the boxes and pick Halloween costumes.  Vickie, I know you read this.  THANK YOU for the dress up clothes/costumes.  Emily jumped and screamed when she saw the Barbie dress.  Then she jumped and twirled when it fit.  The boxes, of course, are still there. 

 

Can’t blog because I’m drinking up every bit of baby left in this boy.  Including laughing when he got his shorts around his head.

Can’t blog because this same baby has had a bleeding rash for 2 weeks.  Meds, creams, air aren’t helping.  Now we’ve given up baby wipes.  So I couldn’t blog while my hands had to cut up soft rags.     And soon I can’t blog because I’m going to have to wash all this new laundry.  Including towels that he sits bare bottom on 4-5 times a day.    When I finish washing Grant finishes that, I still can’t blog because we’re on month 2 of trying to figure out why he has polka dots on his face.    Even Grant didn’t look this bad as a teenager.  No wheat, no oats, no tomatoes….still not sure!  No dairy starts tomorrow.  No fun.  No blogging.

Can’t blog because I’m doing more for the family during the day.  And I started PT, Physical Therapy.  So by 9:30 pm, I’m asleep here, instead of blogging from here.  And twice last week Grant couldn’t wake me up, so I slept all night on the couch.  I woke up, unaware that Grant had a hard time sleeping without me.

And now I’ve taken 30 minutes instead of 5.  Now I can’t blog anymore, because my readers don’t care that I’m not blogging more about these wicked events.  But my husband does care that we’ve not really had a conversation in several days.  

Why can’t you blog?

Piano Lessons: Trauma remembered

Last post was about my children starting piano lessons.  I was very clear with their wonderful teacher (on the phone) that Emily would go first, Alex second.   With Emily’s mood, that great “I get to be first!” energy would be the best.

So far I haven’t regretted the day I made it permanent. 

“Emily!  (and Alex)I’m so excited about a phone call I got today.   We got to the top of the piano lesson waiting list!  Emily got into the 4:30 slot, and Alex got into the 5:00 slot!  I’m so excited for you guys!”

So far, I have only watched Emily bounce off the seat, and I’m glad I gave her the first slot.  She’s also know for tantrums when a book is taken away (the waiting activity).  I know this, because right now I’m blessed to be able to sit with them.  The babes are happily at home, sleeping with the nanny.  That is nearing it’s end as I’m taking wider strides towards  full time parenthood.   

As soon as I got the call about lessons, my mind had already been set about the pitfalls of switching who had the first lesson of the week.  

My piano lessons with Sis. Trumball were with my brother, Sam.  Sis. Trumball had a fun house.  Better, newer toys and something great down stairs.  They had toys that we had seen advertised on TV.  

Of course, the were no match for what was outside.  The fair-weather treat for us:  A trampoline.   All to ourselves.  No kids to share it with.  No siblings to take turns with.  AND NO PARENT TO SCREAM STOP! 

Now for the expensive part, our lessons.   Sam and I were supposed to trade off every week.  Sam and I were supposed to take turns going first.  Of course, second was the best.  With the chatty teacher and mom, you got more playing time.   At the time, my (now) dear brother Sam was a bratty, spoiled little boy who always got his way.  

The fact is, he knew how to throw tantrums and I didn’t.    Often when it was plainly MY turn to play first/lesson second, Sam would pout in the car.  He refusal to move would get me dragged back from the fun, on to the piano bench.    And all this would be time taken out of expensive lessons.   Mom insisted on one year of lessons for each of her children.  And it served her very well.  Opera singers, Cello player in BYU orchestras, two boys in two bands, ward organist, and lots of great singers have came out of that work.     

Getting back to our turn of the “year of piano lessons”.  Sam now says he doesn’t remember this part at all.  I wonder what life lesson is supposed to be learned in that.    The only one who remember is the compliant one, so break more rules? 

I enjoyed lessons, besides the fact that every other week I would have to duke it out with a big fat whiner.  Of course, sometimes every week the car’s seats were given a beating during his tantrums.

Did you take any music lesson?  What kind? 

(oh, loved last post’s comments about your Pokémon names!)

Note to Author:   Rachel, don’t forget to find/order

Music Flash Cards for learning the piano sheet music notes

Jane Bastien’s set is the best.

#GP27 – Music Flashcards

0-84027-01261 

Note to Reader:  Found them two days later, very easy to get at Mills Music.

Piano Lessons: Just like a doctors office

Hmmm…what to blog about that I won’t regret putting into print later.    Not that I might have anything to write that is so full of anger that I might regret it.  Of course, it’s Wednesday!  Piano lessons for the big kids.   I’m writing this during my hour on the couch.  A lovely blue couch that I can even lay out on.   For some reason this sitting, waiting, I feel like my name will be called by a nurse soon!

This is Sis. Cahoon.   She’s a great teacher.  We’ve been on her waiting list for a while, before we got the call to start this month. Emily is putting her gum under the keyboard while Sis. Cahoon looks away.   Just kidding!  Of course Sis. Cahoon would never look away.

Today’s first song, the postman.  I can tell from where her hands are.   This “Thumbs sharing Middle C” song has been tricky for her.    Emily is ALWAYS first.   She ALWAYS knew she wash first.  We told her, “Emily!  (and Alex)I’m so excited about a phone call I got today.   We got to the top of the piano lesson waiting list!  Emily got into the 4:30 slot, and Alex got into the 5:00 slot!  I’m so excited for you guys! 

Now in reality, Sis. Cahoon didn’t care.  They could switch every weeks for all she cared.  But I cared.   And I knew that soon my kids would either want to put of the pain of lessons another half hour.  Or would want to be the first to read that week’s Sunday comics in the her reading basket.   And then a fight would proceed.  With threats and yelling and crying and extra chores and frozen children declaring “YOU CAN’T MAKE ME, IT’S NOT MY TURN THIS WEEK!!!!”

Phew.

Yeah, I might have surpressed childhood issues about this.   But before I tell you that, here is Alex.  Waiting for his turn:This week a pokemon book is more interesting.  Right after I took this picture, he told me about the pink character you see here.  It’s got it’s mouth open, with it’s ginormous tongue sticking out.  Of course, it’s so big that it’s more hanging down.  Guess what the name is?  “Lickitung”  Pronounced LICK-ih-tung.  

A creature with a huge tongue that can paralyze it’s victims with a single lick.  Named Lickitung.  I wonder how late that Pokemon writer was working, and what he needed to hurry home to.   Cause “Body Part Action” plus "action sound” plus “Name of body part” is really a lazy name.  Of course, he might be the only Pokemon I will be able to recognize beside that Yellow guy. 

I came up with these great names

Stinkumfeet

Waxeeyear  (get it?  Wax –e-ear)

Gooperi  (Goop be eye)

I could go on forever.  But then I would lose any readers but 3rd grade boys.  

What would my name be? Maybe….

Layigdon  (Lay ing down)

Haha, this one would be for Tammy R. and Holly O…..

Paynegul  (pain –knee- girl) 

It would have oversized knees that had the eyes.  It would be able to squish opponents between the knees, and shoot kneecaps out to stun. 

What would your name be? 

Kittens and babies: 2002

Visiting Great Grandma Alice and Granddad Jack’s “Farm”. 

Alex is 3, Emily 1.  She started walking on this trip.

Fresh batch of kittens.

 

Curious, but cautious

A bucket brings confidence

Braver, picking up the kitty

Love.  So glad my in-laws create the opportunity for moments like this!

Not to be left out, Emily gets a turn.  In Grant lap, with a helping Uncle (Kenneth?)

Wow, looking back is fun.  I had to delete names all the time, confusing my now little Mark and Kate for my first babies, Alex and Emily. 

Do you have a buried event, before blogs, that you wish you could share?  What is it?  Send me a link !

I can’t share that without sharing from Memorial Day 2009.  Alice and Jack are still alive and kicking on the farm.   All 4 kids got to enjoy it

GG Jack answers Alex’s questions about his military awards

 

Mark is a sweet treat for one of their horses

 

GG Alice made sure Emily got to bake with her.  Caramel oatmeal cookies!

Kate explored the guppies, one of the many pets to enjoy.

God bless Grandparent and Great Grandparents!

Donut run results

The plus side to Kate’s Therapy (besides the obvious improvements)…30 minutes of free time, and good donuts just a few blocks away.

mmmm, top foods, 4$ of bliss.  The only better is Safeway, on a day that they don’t practically burn everything.  I love their frosting (white cream) filled donuts.  I HATE custard filling. 

Who loves donuts for lunch?

 

My camera missed the huge chunk of old fashion donut that slipped from Mark’s sleeping hand.  I found it under him bum as I lifted him to bed.  

I might have eaten that large donut chunk later, when I ran another errand.   But I might have also tossed to to the birds.  Or did I give it to Mark the next time he was in the car?   Honestly, I can’t remember.   It’s a side effect of my effective pain management cocktail that I’m willing to have.

Good bye Finger *post note

We regret to inform you that you missed the funeral and burial of Alex’s fingertip/fingernail.   After the accident, the nanny found it in the back doorway.  1 hour to late to sew back on.  It rested in the freezer, in a Chinese take out box.   Now, I bring you, the burial.  In proper Mormon fashion.

After we got the finger out of the freezer, the boys insisted on snacks afterwards.   But first, they had to dig the grave.   

Have a viewing, and giving finality to life that has been lost.  check.

The whole trauma of the event was soothed when Alex was promised a funeral.  “No tombstones”, Grant said while he declined an invitation

Mourn with those that mourn.  Say “see you later, I will miss you”.  Check!

Have a lighter moment of laughter, knowing that all will be together in the resurrection.  Check!

 

What do you serve at a Mormon funeral?  Funeral Potatoes, of course.  I didn’t have the proper cream soups and raw potatoes.  But I did have new Pringles.   Bury the dead and eat potatoes.   Check!

If you feel the need to mourn privately, you can look under the lilac tree in the front yard.   It’s under the southwest corner. 

Good news is that finger tips are one part of the body that regenerate.  We see the wound doc Friday.  He’s got a great scab, so he’s going to heal nicely.  If he could, he would have a nail back by Christmas.  But they think that the cuticle healed down on the nail bed.  It can’t be fixed, so chances are his nail won’t grow back.  He also broke his finger on the growth plate.  He has a splint to protect his finger.  We are hopeful it heals well, and his finger can grow normal. 

The end

( of the beginning of Alex’s Finger)

***Post note

I wrote this post on Sunday, Sept 6.   I wrote about 6 posts that day.  So I forgot about this particular post.  It has  been posted during a time of grieving for my family.  Wednesday, my cousin tragically died.  The death has touched my family, creating  a surprise and open communication.   

So I give no offense to my family in my choice to keep this post up.  My heart and thoughts continue to be with the Spencer family, as they make sense of Jeff’s sudden death and prepare for his funeral on Monday.

My floors are talking to me: I’m Cold!

The floors in my house are cold.    Even though my floors can’t talk, I know they must be cold.  Because at this very moment, I found this:

And this two:

And this:

Even on the warmer carpet I found this:

And the toasty attic, I still found this:

Mark is 18 months.   A month ago I noticed it starting.   When I changed his diaper for bedtime, he would reach up for the blanket pile.  Infant reciving blankets soon became hugged IN ADDITION to his normal sleeping blankets.   Soon it became part of his wardrobe.  A blankie in his arm.  Or a stuffed animal “lovie”.   Or both.  He has preferences, but no one favorite.   Thanks to our awesome, overly generous neighbors, The Millers,  Mark has even more stuffed animals to pick from.  There is no lack of animals to hug in our house.  Nor arms willing to love them.  Like this:

As much as Mark’s arms love to snuggle…they also love to let go.  Let go of blankets  Let go of toys.  Where ever in the house he is.    Like when he got distracted by his siblings computer games:

That’s a flamingo.  Thanks to the millers, we now have 3.  Or 4.   I’ve never seen them all together.  And this cute puppy, in our storage room.  I think the animals left here got exchanged for food or a tool.  

Some places I don’t understand.  I found Mark’s mostly favorite bear next to the stove.  As I went closer to take this photo, Mark turned to see what I was looking at.  He grabbed his bear so fast, that I didn’t even get a photo of it.

Caught in the act of a grab and run….

He wouldn’t let bear go….even in the name of “recreate moment photo for the blog.”  The nerve!

Such sweet boy, with so much love!  He’s my first baby to use blankets as a lovie.     I will miss the phase of a baby:  Blankies and Lovies.   Yes, my big kids love to snuggle certain blankets and animals.  Even Alex.   Yet it seems much more heartwarming to see a baby do it. 

Do your kids have a blankie or a lovie?

So lucky to be one of the guys

My happy, happy boys.  Together, being happy

Alex rocked on Saturday.  He got all his chores done neat and quick.  He had time to play with his buddies.  This is most of them.  He now has 5 BOYS that are near his age to play with on the street.  And often I have 7boys at our house.  

Mark is so happy to be one of the boys.

Today’s game: Zoo Tycoon.  They worked without fights, all together on a zoo.  Then they broke all the gates and made the animals attack the people.  Boys. 

Joy and Labor Day Eggs

Happy Labor Day! 

I called my sister today, and said, "Happy Labor Day!  PUUUSSSH!  PUUUSSSH!  Now breath!”  haha, I'm so glad that I won't have to go thru labor again.  But I do hope that I get to be there to help a daughter.   

Speaking of Labor, I met with my surgeon.   It’s been 6 weeks since my Rectocele & other nasty junk surgery.  He thinks things are find.  He didn’t even examine me.  He said answering questions gave him enough info.

He was surprised by how good I looked over all.  3 of my docs have now said they've never seen me look so good.  This was all in the last week.  It was a shock.  I look fine again?  I look better?  I look….normal?   

 

I wish I could feel what they see!

How come I don’t feel or see what they see?

I'm still overwhelmed.  I feel like I've got 18 months of medical hell buried on top of me, and I'm having trouble mentally climbing past it.   It's hard to look healthy...it creates lots of pressure from others to be better now.    Pressure to act as whole as I look.   

I must say I'm not doing well with the pressure.  All I can do is cling to my testimony of the temple, of priesthood blessings...and the testimony that the bad times always pass  Sometimes they only pass to less bad time, but they do pass.   So I sit here, clinging, and waiting.   And feeling horribly broken.  Why can’t anyone  see that?

I've got a lot of waiting time.  Waiting feeling broken, waiting to feel whole again.  I blog.  I read blogs.  I read books.  Several a week.  Just finished one by the first American woman to climb Everest.  It really made me understand my brother.  His church is on a mountain top.  How great to have an activity that brings so much strength and joy to a person!

So what do you do for church?  Or for joy? 

First day: Moving on up! Also, Introducing AJ

Good morning!  We had a great morning for about…20 minutes.  Then all hell broke lose.  No, I guess only heck, since there was no blood.  If pictures could talk, you would hear screaming in the back round.

Emily was ready for school first.  She wouldn’t stop “pose, pose, I'm so cute, pose” –ing so I could get a normal photo.  Then I remembered, Emily is far from normal.

Alex joining in.  He would have his hand in a fist, if it wasn’t for his messed up finger cast.  The kids were mad that I wasn’t letting them walk to school with the neighborhood gang.  I claimed the privilege of walking with my kids into their classes.  Since I couldn’t walk,  THEY WERE NOT WALKING.  PERIOD.   wow, it was a rough morning!

This is just part of our street’s walking group.   We are SO blessed!

Emily can’t take her eyes off her teacher, Mrs.  Hatai.

Alex is looking…wait, he’s not Alex.  He is AJ.  Or as he often writes it, Aj.   Last year, he was sick of writing Alex R.   There are 3 Alex’s in his grade.  He wanted to switch it to AJ, for Alexander Joseph.  But half way thru the year is not the time to do that to a teacher.  This summer, he kept asking.  So before school started, I called the school secretary.  Our angel, Ann.  She made sure his teacher had things set up as AJ. 

So here is AJ’s first day of school.  19 means he’s the 19th kid in the class alphabetical order list.   He has got an admirably organized teacher, Ms. Lajoie.

Do you think YOU can pronounce their teachers names? 

Happy first day of school!