Bird (the nickname given to my youngest by his daddy) suffers from migraines that have sent us to the ER twice in the past year. There is not a more helpless feeling than seeing your child in excruciating pain and knowing there is nothing you can do to fix it.
The first migraine that sent us to the ER started with alarming symptoms. His hands and feet went numb and then the pain started. The second ER visit had the numbness but just to keep things exciting, visual disturbances were added. The only thing more frightening than seeing your child in such pain, is hearing him say that he's lost all peripheral vision.
Two ER visits for such pain, is, in my opinion, two too many. Fortunately, Dillon is seeing a new doctor who is not content to just call it a migraine and hope that the next one doesn't come too soon. He referred us to allergist and neurologist to see if we can get to the reasons behind the migraines and hopefully treat them before they even start.
We had our first appointment with the allergist yesterday. The nurse practitioner sat with us for literally hours taking Dillon's history and as she asked her questions and Bird and I answered, it began to slowly sink in. This child is a walking cauldron of allergies, and we have just let them stew for years and years. I began to realize that I had not been an effective advocate for my son. In fact, my advocacy could best be described as EPIC FAIL!
The nurse practitioner said sweetly, "It's a wonder you haven't been in to see us before now."
If the exam room floor could have opened up an swallowed me whole I would have felt more comfortable, but then that would be leaving my son and all his allergies on the exam table, once again without an advocate.
The Allergy Clinic was the most thorough doctor's office we have visited in a long time. They did more in this one visit than in 8 hours spent in the ER. Bird had a CAT scan, and a breathing function test. The breathing test showed that while he does have asthma is it well controlled with his inhaler. The CAT scan showed nothing remarkable, except that he has some infection lingering in one of his sinuses.
He started prednisone and we have discovered two things. One, prednisone makes him hungry and two, apparently you can breathe through your nose. Up till now, he was sure that was some myth.
He is playing me like a fiddle today. His hunger is controlling him and therefore controlling me. Everytime he wants more food, he inches up to me and in his sweetest, most childlike, and most guilt inducing voice, he says.. "I had a CAT scan yesterday". This drives home the seriousness of his stuffy nose that I let go for so long, and he gets anything he wants. At least for today.
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
Speaking of Independence....
I heard it all the time…
“You are still nursing? You better stop, he’s going to be too dependent.”
"He sleeps in your bed? That will make him too dependent.”
“You plan to homeschool? How will he learn any independence?”
It seemed to me that if I had listened to all these well meaning advice givers, as soon as the child had developed enough neck muscles to hold his head up, I was to kick him out and have him start earning his keep.
I couldn’t quite wrap my brain around the thought of too dependent, when in actuality, there was no way my babies could be more dependent. They were unable to walk, talk, eat, dress, or even burp without my help. The idea that I could make them more dependent than they already were was pretty ludicrous to me.
The only thing more ridiculous would be if someone were to walk up to a pregnant woman and demand she give birth immediately lest her child develop and unnatural dependence .
Given that it seemed my options were to send my two year old toddling out into the world to get a job, or to go ahead and ignore the concerned masses and continue to meet my child’s needs the way I saw fit, I went the need-meeting route.
It was a simple decision once I thought about independence and all that entails. I also watched that episode of Mad About You.
Mad About You was one of my favorite shows ever. Paul and Jamie reminded me so much of me and my husband. The did the things we liked to do, and spoke the way we spoke to each other (except that they had better scripts). They were us.. until they decided to” ferberize” their baby.
Ferberizing sounds to me more like something you would do to new upholstery than to a baby, but Paul and Jamie shot a whole commercial free episode where they sat outside Mabel’s nursery door while she cried herself to sleep. The kick in the stomach was when Mabel had finally given up and gone to sleep and her cries were no longer heard. Jamie looks sadly at Paul and says that they had just taught their daughter that they wouldn’t always be there for her.
This is not the lesson we ever wanted to pass on to our kids. I want my kids to know that we will always be there for them. Even if we aren’t in the same house, city, state or country, we will always be just a phone call away, at the ready with a pep talk, an attaboy, or even just an attentive ear.
Fortunately, right now, they are still far too dependent on us, sponging off us for meals and lodging while they finish high school. And I can see that they may well be dependent on us. But I also see that this dependence is what helps them be independent.
I sense your confusion. Let me ‘splain.
The very idea that my children know that they can rely on me and my husband, gives them courage to move out and try new things. They are not afraid to fail, because they know we will be there to catch them should they fall.
In much the same way, my Heavenly Father is also always there for me. I know if He asks me to do something, I can do it because He is always with me, supporting me.
Child care guru, Penelope Leach, said it best: Independence comes from having dependent needs completely met.
My job is not to make my children independent. My job is to let them know they can depend on me, and therefore find independence.
“You are still nursing? You better stop, he’s going to be too dependent.”
"He sleeps in your bed? That will make him too dependent.”
“You plan to homeschool? How will he learn any independence?”
It seemed to me that if I had listened to all these well meaning advice givers, as soon as the child had developed enough neck muscles to hold his head up, I was to kick him out and have him start earning his keep.
I couldn’t quite wrap my brain around the thought of too dependent, when in actuality, there was no way my babies could be more dependent. They were unable to walk, talk, eat, dress, or even burp without my help. The idea that I could make them more dependent than they already were was pretty ludicrous to me.
The only thing more ridiculous would be if someone were to walk up to a pregnant woman and demand she give birth immediately lest her child develop and unnatural dependence .
Given that it seemed my options were to send my two year old toddling out into the world to get a job, or to go ahead and ignore the concerned masses and continue to meet my child’s needs the way I saw fit, I went the need-meeting route.
It was a simple decision once I thought about independence and all that entails. I also watched that episode of Mad About You.
Mad About You was one of my favorite shows ever. Paul and Jamie reminded me so much of me and my husband. The did the things we liked to do, and spoke the way we spoke to each other (except that they had better scripts). They were us.. until they decided to” ferberize” their baby.
Ferberizing sounds to me more like something you would do to new upholstery than to a baby, but Paul and Jamie shot a whole commercial free episode where they sat outside Mabel’s nursery door while she cried herself to sleep. The kick in the stomach was when Mabel had finally given up and gone to sleep and her cries were no longer heard. Jamie looks sadly at Paul and says that they had just taught their daughter that they wouldn’t always be there for her.
This is not the lesson we ever wanted to pass on to our kids. I want my kids to know that we will always be there for them. Even if we aren’t in the same house, city, state or country, we will always be just a phone call away, at the ready with a pep talk, an attaboy, or even just an attentive ear.
Fortunately, right now, they are still far too dependent on us, sponging off us for meals and lodging while they finish high school. And I can see that they may well be dependent on us. But I also see that this dependence is what helps them be independent.
I sense your confusion. Let me ‘splain.
The very idea that my children know that they can rely on me and my husband, gives them courage to move out and try new things. They are not afraid to fail, because they know we will be there to catch them should they fall.
In much the same way, my Heavenly Father is also always there for me. I know if He asks me to do something, I can do it because He is always with me, supporting me.
Child care guru, Penelope Leach, said it best: Independence comes from having dependent needs completely met.
My job is not to make my children independent. My job is to let them know they can depend on me, and therefore find independence.
Monday, July 05, 2010
Independence Day
The 4th of July has always ranked right up there as one of my fave holidays. Nothing beats a good fireworks show!
For years our family tradition was to go to the fairgrounds, spread a blanket under the Driller and bask in the glow that was the Bell's Amusement Park Independence Day Celebration.
That was until the powers that be decided the Bell's was no longer needed or wanted as a Tulsa attraction. The powers that be are idiots.
So there we were, stranded, forced to change, forced to adapt, forced to make alternative 4th of July plans. There was a moment when we thought nothing could replace our fireworks under the Golden Driller. We watched other fireworks shows but they just didn't seem to have the power to replace what we thought was missing.
Our family ended up going to my parents house, for what we thought would be quiet evening with family. It certainly wouldn't have the excitement of the 4th of July crowds, the vendors selling lemonade and glo bracelets, and the loud booms that rock your insides, but we would be with family so it would be ok. We were wrong.
It was way more than OK! And it was way better than Bell's. (Although, we all still resent the politics that shut them down!)
Mom and Dad live on hill and from their comfortable, cool, breezy yard we could see fireworks no matter which way we turned. In fact, it's quite possible to end the evening with a full blown case of whiplash from turning your neck to see in all directions at once.
Dad lovingly prepares hot dogs and smoked bologna in his outdoor kitchen, while Mom prepares salads and cakes and lemonade... It's a feast.. and we don't have to wait in line or keep watch for the vendor carts.
And then there is the do it yourself fireworks. We put on our own show, right there in front of Mom and Dad's house, complete with a finale! I will admit, my family tends to lean towards pyromania and this is something we could never do in the midst of the crowds of Bells.. but now after three years of our new tradition, we can't imagine celebrating the 4th any other way.
Sometimes change is good.
For years our family tradition was to go to the fairgrounds, spread a blanket under the Driller and bask in the glow that was the Bell's Amusement Park Independence Day Celebration.
That was until the powers that be decided the Bell's was no longer needed or wanted as a Tulsa attraction. The powers that be are idiots.
So there we were, stranded, forced to change, forced to adapt, forced to make alternative 4th of July plans. There was a moment when we thought nothing could replace our fireworks under the Golden Driller. We watched other fireworks shows but they just didn't seem to have the power to replace what we thought was missing.
Our family ended up going to my parents house, for what we thought would be quiet evening with family. It certainly wouldn't have the excitement of the 4th of July crowds, the vendors selling lemonade and glo bracelets, and the loud booms that rock your insides, but we would be with family so it would be ok. We were wrong.
It was way more than OK! And it was way better than Bell's. (Although, we all still resent the politics that shut them down!)
Mom and Dad live on hill and from their comfortable, cool, breezy yard we could see fireworks no matter which way we turned. In fact, it's quite possible to end the evening with a full blown case of whiplash from turning your neck to see in all directions at once.
Dad lovingly prepares hot dogs and smoked bologna in his outdoor kitchen, while Mom prepares salads and cakes and lemonade... It's a feast.. and we don't have to wait in line or keep watch for the vendor carts.
And then there is the do it yourself fireworks. We put on our own show, right there in front of Mom and Dad's house, complete with a finale! I will admit, my family tends to lean towards pyromania and this is something we could never do in the midst of the crowds of Bells.. but now after three years of our new tradition, we can't imagine celebrating the 4th any other way.
Sometimes change is good.
Thursday, July 01, 2010
Our Daily Bread
Last night there was a knock at the door. Lately, it seems when we have unexpected visitors, it doesn't turn out to be good news, so we all held our breathe as Jim went to the door.
"Hey buddy!" he exclaimed and we all let out a collective sigh of relief.
It was Gary and he was bearing gifts but pretty much anytime Denise or Gary show up unexpectedly they are bearing gifts. They are cool like that.
This time it was some bags of bread from Panera. Denise has a friend who gets their end of the day stock and since the Graham's are low-carbers, we get to enjoy the fruits.. or should I say grains.
We had already eaten dinner but as soon as we saw what was in the goody bags we knew we had to have Second Dinner! Or maybe it was First Dinner after our Supper, or Supper after Dinner. I'll have to consult my Hobbit Etiquette book to know for sure, but at any rate.. we had Panera Bread Bowls and that called for soup. French Onion, topped with melted Mozzarella... MMMM
I could tell you all about it but why don't I just show you!
"Hey buddy!" he exclaimed and we all let out a collective sigh of relief.
It was Gary and he was bearing gifts but pretty much anytime Denise or Gary show up unexpectedly they are bearing gifts. They are cool like that.
This time it was some bags of bread from Panera. Denise has a friend who gets their end of the day stock and since the Graham's are low-carbers, we get to enjoy the fruits.. or should I say grains.
We had already eaten dinner but as soon as we saw what was in the goody bags we knew we had to have Second Dinner! Or maybe it was First Dinner after our Supper, or Supper after Dinner. I'll have to consult my Hobbit Etiquette book to know for sure, but at any rate.. we had Panera Bread Bowls and that called for soup. French Onion, topped with melted Mozzarella... MMMM
I could tell you all about it but why don't I just show you!
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
For far too long, my husband and I have been caught up in the busyness of life and it appears we have abandoned are artistic pursuits. For me, it was writing. As you can see, I'm three days and three blog posts running so I am taking steps. For my husband, it was picking up his guitar again. Just to give him an extra push, I submitted his music to CDbaby, who then distributed it to several digital outlets. I am so proud to say my dear hubby's music can be found on iTunes! You can also click on the link to the right that says "Hubby's music" and there you will find.. yes, you guessed it, Hubby's music. In the meantime, here is a video of one of my favorite songs of his. (Don't judge the video too harshly. I made it long ago, before aquiring editing software filled with bells and whistles.) Enjoy!
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
The Joy of Cooking
Let me be clear. I usually find no joy in cooking. In fact, I pretty much have a general distaste for all things kitchen related... ummm, except for eating! But that's another blog post.
The Bible speaks of Mary and Martha. Martha was the happy homemaker, while Mary didn't want to miss any of the fellowship. I am without a doubt Mary!
I simply can't stand being stuck in the kitchen while fun is going on elsewhere. It's just so lonely.
A few years ago, when we built our own house, we designed it with a keeping room. The kitchen and family room were one room so, while I was cooking, I was still in the middle of all the action. Aces! Well, not so much! Do you know how hard it is to relax when you have a sinkful of dishes in full view? Yeah, sometimes there is something to be said for a kitchen with those swinging doors.
But my hatred for the kitchen isn't all about my need for socialization.
I do love cooking a nourishing meal for my family. I realize that's a gift of love. However, they don't usually enjoy eating it. I'm not such a good cook, is all I'm saying.
But my kitchen is changing.. and I think I like it more.
The change is simple. I now have helpers.
Tonight we made fajitas, and the kitchen was a veritable party!
Bird prepared all the vegetables, because truly, he is the most talented with a knife. After they were sliced, Bear sauteed them, using a variety of secret seasonings. I prepared the chicken and the beef, which required the amazing skill of opening pouches.
Now one should know that the actual utilitarian portion of my kitchen is quite small, and just in case it isn't small enough, we have a portable dishwasher sitting in the middle of it. Sure, when not washing dishes, it likes to pretend it's a fancy island, but truly, it's just a huge obstacle; an obstacle made all the more challenging when you add 2 young men, both over six feet tall, and not very specific where they step.
Bird flitted about the kitchen barking orders and letting us all know that we were inferior cooks in his own special way. Yes, he's the little brother, and this could be simply him living up to that title, but I think I have to defer to him. He watches Alton Brown.
At one point, each of us were working on a different burner on our 4 burner stove, so it was crowded, and it was hot... and it was So. Much. Fun!
I absolutely don't mind cooking, when my boys are in there with me! I might even become a good cook. Bird is giving me lessons!
Oh, and to the girls that will someday become my daughters in love.... You're welcome!
The Bible speaks of Mary and Martha. Martha was the happy homemaker, while Mary didn't want to miss any of the fellowship. I am without a doubt Mary!
I simply can't stand being stuck in the kitchen while fun is going on elsewhere. It's just so lonely.
A few years ago, when we built our own house, we designed it with a keeping room. The kitchen and family room were one room so, while I was cooking, I was still in the middle of all the action. Aces! Well, not so much! Do you know how hard it is to relax when you have a sinkful of dishes in full view? Yeah, sometimes there is something to be said for a kitchen with those swinging doors.
But my hatred for the kitchen isn't all about my need for socialization.
I do love cooking a nourishing meal for my family. I realize that's a gift of love. However, they don't usually enjoy eating it. I'm not such a good cook, is all I'm saying.
But my kitchen is changing.. and I think I like it more.
The change is simple. I now have helpers.
Tonight we made fajitas, and the kitchen was a veritable party!
Bird prepared all the vegetables, because truly, he is the most talented with a knife. After they were sliced, Bear sauteed them, using a variety of secret seasonings. I prepared the chicken and the beef, which required the amazing skill of opening pouches.
Now one should know that the actual utilitarian portion of my kitchen is quite small, and just in case it isn't small enough, we have a portable dishwasher sitting in the middle of it. Sure, when not washing dishes, it likes to pretend it's a fancy island, but truly, it's just a huge obstacle; an obstacle made all the more challenging when you add 2 young men, both over six feet tall, and not very specific where they step.
Bird flitted about the kitchen barking orders and letting us all know that we were inferior cooks in his own special way. Yes, he's the little brother, and this could be simply him living up to that title, but I think I have to defer to him. He watches Alton Brown.
At one point, each of us were working on a different burner on our 4 burner stove, so it was crowded, and it was hot... and it was So. Much. Fun!
I absolutely don't mind cooking, when my boys are in there with me! I might even become a good cook. Bird is giving me lessons!
Oh, and to the girls that will someday become my daughters in love.... You're welcome!
Monday, June 28, 2010
Pardon My Dust!
Wow, it's been a while since I've been here... and these internets certainly do stir up some dust!
I should apologize for not writing more often, but then you've heard that song before, huh?
It's not that I have had a shortage of writing material. In fact, several posts zoom through my brain daily. Unfortunately, never when I am at the computer... or a notepad... or even a tube of lipstick. And then by the time I get to a computer or notepad (let's face it.. not gonna write with lipstick) the ideas have zoomed away.
But I want to write. I need to write. And as a writer, I want people to read my writing. Which is so much easier when I make it available. Oh, and people that hire writers... funny thing, they actually prefer that you, you know, write! Go figure!
So I'm not going to promise that I'll write more, cause I've done that already. I'm just gonna do it. And the proof will be in the pudding, er, posts.
I should apologize for not writing more often, but then you've heard that song before, huh?
It's not that I have had a shortage of writing material. In fact, several posts zoom through my brain daily. Unfortunately, never when I am at the computer... or a notepad... or even a tube of lipstick. And then by the time I get to a computer or notepad (let's face it.. not gonna write with lipstick) the ideas have zoomed away.
But I want to write. I need to write. And as a writer, I want people to read my writing. Which is so much easier when I make it available. Oh, and people that hire writers... funny thing, they actually prefer that you, you know, write! Go figure!
So I'm not going to promise that I'll write more, cause I've done that already. I'm just gonna do it. And the proof will be in the pudding, er, posts.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Little Miss Muffet with a twist
Little Miss Muffet
(that would be me for the purposes of this post)
Sat on a tuffet
(Ok, not sure what a tuffet is, but I was sitting in my car)
Eating her curds and whey
(ummm, yuck.. I wasn't eating any curds.. I was just driving)
When along came a spider
(a really big one!)
And sat down beside her
(actually, he fell on me as I adjusted my visor)
And frightened Miss Muffet away.
(Believe me, if I could have left the scene like the original Miss Muffet, I would have. Instead, I opted to stay in control of my vehicle despite the screaming and flailing of my arms. )
I would like to say no living creatures were harmed in this event, but that's just not true. The spider died a violent death.. and Miss Muffet survived to drive another day.
(that would be me for the purposes of this post)
Sat on a tuffet
(Ok, not sure what a tuffet is, but I was sitting in my car)
Eating her curds and whey
(ummm, yuck.. I wasn't eating any curds.. I was just driving)
When along came a spider
(a really big one!)
And sat down beside her
(actually, he fell on me as I adjusted my visor)
And frightened Miss Muffet away.
(Believe me, if I could have left the scene like the original Miss Muffet, I would have. Instead, I opted to stay in control of my vehicle despite the screaming and flailing of my arms. )
I would like to say no living creatures were harmed in this event, but that's just not true. The spider died a violent death.. and Miss Muffet survived to drive another day.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
An offer you can't refuse....
My boys... they are best friends, yet polar opposites. They are yin and yang. chaos and order. easy going and high strung. They are brothers and will fight to the death, yet give their lives for each other.
But there is one trait that Cody posesses that makes his brother crazy. And truth be told, it annoys me a bit too. The kid can get a candy bar at the grocery store and then, horror of all horrors, not eat it. He can let it sit in the refrigerator for days, even weeks at a time. The chocolate goodness taunts his brother, who will inhale any chocolate before it's even paid for.
It wasn't that long ago that Cody had stored up a chocolate treasure in the fridge that beckoned me every time I was in the kitchen. It's call was so great that I couldn't resist and in a move that can only be described as the antithesis of maternal compassion, I ate my child's Crunch Bar. I didn't do it all at once. Oh, no. I nibbled. Over the course of three days.. until it was gone. And then and only then, did my boy decide the time had come to consume his chocolate. When he discovered that his bar was missing, I tried to claim ignorance but in the end, I headed to the grocery to purchase another one. The guilt I felt was greater than that taste of the chocolate and I vowed that I would never pilfer any more sweets from my sweet boy.
Dillon is a younger brother and therefore has an easier time stealing chocolate from his easygoing, patient sibling.
This afternoon he came to me, and the conversation went like this:
Dillon: Cody hasn't eaten his crunch bar and it's been like 2 weeks.
Me: That sounds like your brother.
Dillon: I think he's forgotten about it.
Me: I doubt it.
Dillon: He would never know if I ate it.
Me: Dillon, I cannot give you permission to eat your brother's candy bar.
Dillon: (whispering) I'm not asking for permission, Mom. I want to know if you want in.
Should I be more concerned that my youngest son is heading for the chocolate mafia or that my oldest has no qualms about abandoning chocolate?
But there is one trait that Cody posesses that makes his brother crazy. And truth be told, it annoys me a bit too. The kid can get a candy bar at the grocery store and then, horror of all horrors, not eat it. He can let it sit in the refrigerator for days, even weeks at a time. The chocolate goodness taunts his brother, who will inhale any chocolate before it's even paid for.
It wasn't that long ago that Cody had stored up a chocolate treasure in the fridge that beckoned me every time I was in the kitchen. It's call was so great that I couldn't resist and in a move that can only be described as the antithesis of maternal compassion, I ate my child's Crunch Bar. I didn't do it all at once. Oh, no. I nibbled. Over the course of three days.. until it was gone. And then and only then, did my boy decide the time had come to consume his chocolate. When he discovered that his bar was missing, I tried to claim ignorance but in the end, I headed to the grocery to purchase another one. The guilt I felt was greater than that taste of the chocolate and I vowed that I would never pilfer any more sweets from my sweet boy.
Dillon is a younger brother and therefore has an easier time stealing chocolate from his easygoing, patient sibling.
This afternoon he came to me, and the conversation went like this:
Dillon: Cody hasn't eaten his crunch bar and it's been like 2 weeks.
Me: That sounds like your brother.
Dillon: I think he's forgotten about it.
Me: I doubt it.
Dillon: He would never know if I ate it.
Me: Dillon, I cannot give you permission to eat your brother's candy bar.
Dillon: (whispering) I'm not asking for permission, Mom. I want to know if you want in.
Should I be more concerned that my youngest son is heading for the chocolate mafia or that my oldest has no qualms about abandoning chocolate?
Saturday, March 06, 2010
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
If you can imagine it, there is probably somebody to buy it!
This is capitalism at it's best! Kitty Wigs! What is the weirdest retail product you've seen?
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
The Trouble with Jessie
About 10 years ago a friend of ours invited us out to his place to check out some cute little black lab puppies. We loaded up the boys and drove out there, determined not to fall in love.. we would just look. We didn't need a puppy.
As soon as we got out of the car, we saw the squirming black mass that was about 7 puppies playing with and tripping all over each other. I picked them up one by one, turning them over to cradle them like babies, acting all dog whisperer, trying to determine which had the best temperament. They all passed that test with flying colors. They were black labs, after all.
But there was one that was different. After I put her down, she kept crawling back in my lap. I would pick up one of her siblings, cradle him and put him down and he would go about clumsily playing. But when I picked up her up, cradled her, and put her down.. she crawled back for more. She chose me.
We took her home and she became Jessie the Wonder Lab. Her official, very long name, is Jessie Love Beauty Taco Walenciak.. because Dillon was 3, wanted to name him and couldn't quite make decisions. Jessie, after the character in Toy Story 2. Love, because, well, she kept crawling in my lap... Beauty, after Black Beauty, and Taco because.... I guess because Dillon was 3 and 3 year olds have funny ideas about appropriate names.
For the first two years of Jessies life I was ready to give her away. We still have furniture that bears the scars of her teething habits but I no longer have my favorite Doc Martin sandals that she mostly digested. Everyone told me to wait two years... things would change... and they did. Almost like magic. She turned two and became the best dog in the world. She never had an accident in the house, she didn't chew on anything she didn't have permission to chew on. She did get in the trash, and still does, but we taught her to pick up the trash and throw it away.. so at least she cleans up after herself.
She is quite the nanny to the boys. One night, Dillon came into our room after a bad dream. It wasn't long before Jessie woke me up, but didn't lead me to the door to go outside. She led me to Dillon's room to show me he wasn't in his bed. I had to let her see him in our bed before she would go back to sleep. Of course, Cody gets the most benefit from Jessie. He isn't a hugger, but he will hug Jessie. It's heartwarming to see my 16 year old man/boy talk baby talk and love on Jessie. He is going to miss her the most.
Jessie is not doing well. The vet thinks she has the canine equivalent of Alzheimer's. She has forgotten some of her most basic commands. She hasn't forgotten she's potty trained.. she simply is unaware of when she needs to potty, so she will walk through the house leaving a trail that looks quite a bit like a Family Circus Comic where you can trace Billy's steps by the dotted line he leaves. Jessie leaves her own dotted line. Thank heavens for my steam cleaner! Of course, Jessie soon realizes what she's done and she looks at it in shock, as if to say.. "Who did this?!".. and she will not cross it. She will not step over it. She is deeply ashamed, and I am sad for her because I know she couldn't help it. She is on medicine for this, and it is helping, but things are getting worse every day.
Tonight she gave me a glimpse of the young Jessie. I roasted a chicken and when I took it out of the oven she stood in the kitchen staring at it. Then she would look at me with so much life in her eyes, begging me for the chicken. If you could have heard her words, I'm sure the conversation would have sounded like this...
Jessie: Can I have that chicken?
Me: No, you can't have the chicken.
Jessie: Ok, well, then can I have the chicken?
Me: Jessie, the chicken is not for you.
Jessie: All right. Can I have the chicken?
Me: No Jessie, go lay down.
Jessie: Ok, as soon as you give me some chicken.
And this could have gone on all night.. I got tired and left the kitchen, but Jessie remained, staring at the chicken carcass, willing for it to fall of the platter and into her mouth. She was so excited about the chicken that she seemed like a puppy again.. in fact, at one point, she actually ran and got a ball, as if to convince us that she needed chicken because she was so darned cute and in serious training...
And then tonight after dinner, she walked through the house, leaving a trail of essence of Jessie and not even realizing it.... and my heart broke just a little.. because the glimpses of puppy Jessie are fewer and farther between...
And the trouble with Jessie is she won't live forever and I'm having a hard time imagining our family without her.......
As soon as we got out of the car, we saw the squirming black mass that was about 7 puppies playing with and tripping all over each other. I picked them up one by one, turning them over to cradle them like babies, acting all dog whisperer, trying to determine which had the best temperament. They all passed that test with flying colors. They were black labs, after all.
But there was one that was different. After I put her down, she kept crawling back in my lap. I would pick up one of her siblings, cradle him and put him down and he would go about clumsily playing. But when I picked up her up, cradled her, and put her down.. she crawled back for more. She chose me.
We took her home and she became Jessie the Wonder Lab. Her official, very long name, is Jessie Love Beauty Taco Walenciak.. because Dillon was 3, wanted to name him and couldn't quite make decisions. Jessie, after the character in Toy Story 2. Love, because, well, she kept crawling in my lap... Beauty, after Black Beauty, and Taco because.... I guess because Dillon was 3 and 3 year olds have funny ideas about appropriate names.
For the first two years of Jessies life I was ready to give her away. We still have furniture that bears the scars of her teething habits but I no longer have my favorite Doc Martin sandals that she mostly digested. Everyone told me to wait two years... things would change... and they did. Almost like magic. She turned two and became the best dog in the world. She never had an accident in the house, she didn't chew on anything she didn't have permission to chew on. She did get in the trash, and still does, but we taught her to pick up the trash and throw it away.. so at least she cleans up after herself.
She is quite the nanny to the boys. One night, Dillon came into our room after a bad dream. It wasn't long before Jessie woke me up, but didn't lead me to the door to go outside. She led me to Dillon's room to show me he wasn't in his bed. I had to let her see him in our bed before she would go back to sleep. Of course, Cody gets the most benefit from Jessie. He isn't a hugger, but he will hug Jessie. It's heartwarming to see my 16 year old man/boy talk baby talk and love on Jessie. He is going to miss her the most.
Jessie is not doing well. The vet thinks she has the canine equivalent of Alzheimer's. She has forgotten some of her most basic commands. She hasn't forgotten she's potty trained.. she simply is unaware of when she needs to potty, so she will walk through the house leaving a trail that looks quite a bit like a Family Circus Comic where you can trace Billy's steps by the dotted line he leaves. Jessie leaves her own dotted line. Thank heavens for my steam cleaner! Of course, Jessie soon realizes what she's done and she looks at it in shock, as if to say.. "Who did this?!".. and she will not cross it. She will not step over it. She is deeply ashamed, and I am sad for her because I know she couldn't help it. She is on medicine for this, and it is helping, but things are getting worse every day.
Tonight she gave me a glimpse of the young Jessie. I roasted a chicken and when I took it out of the oven she stood in the kitchen staring at it. Then she would look at me with so much life in her eyes, begging me for the chicken. If you could have heard her words, I'm sure the conversation would have sounded like this...
Jessie: Can I have that chicken?
Me: No, you can't have the chicken.
Jessie: Ok, well, then can I have the chicken?
Me: Jessie, the chicken is not for you.
Jessie: All right. Can I have the chicken?
Me: No Jessie, go lay down.
Jessie: Ok, as soon as you give me some chicken.
And this could have gone on all night.. I got tired and left the kitchen, but Jessie remained, staring at the chicken carcass, willing for it to fall of the platter and into her mouth. She was so excited about the chicken that she seemed like a puppy again.. in fact, at one point, she actually ran and got a ball, as if to convince us that she needed chicken because she was so darned cute and in serious training...
And then tonight after dinner, she walked through the house, leaving a trail of essence of Jessie and not even realizing it.... and my heart broke just a little.. because the glimpses of puppy Jessie are fewer and farther between...
And the trouble with Jessie is she won't live forever and I'm having a hard time imagining our family without her.......
It's a new year....
Well, it's a new year to me. Today was my birthday, and although I have reached the age where one shouldn't still love their birthdays, I do. I love my birthday, I love New Year's, I love Mondays. I love new and fresh starts. I get a do over from last year. The diet that didn't work, the goals that got lost under piles of urgent clutter, the dreams that didn't turn into reality YET; these all qualify for second chances with each new year, each new week.
All this positive thinking is very refreshing, no? No, it's usually annoying and not appreciated, but that's ok, too. I think God made different outlooks to create balance!
My own dear hubby hates Mondays. He tends to look back at what didn't get done, while I see a fresh slate. But at times, as surprising as this sounds, I tend to be somewhat of an idealist, while my sweet husband is more of a realist. He doesn't ever burst my bubble; he just keeps me from floating too far away in it.
I realize that the last time I visited my little corner of the internets, I wrote that I would be back tomorrow. Well, technically this is a tomorrow. As Annie put is so succinctly, tomorrow is always a day away... In fact there has been around 6 months of tomorrows between my last post and now.
Now as I embark on a new year, I plan on blogging more, and succeeding on that diet and even finally cleaning out that coat closet... and while some who are more "realists" might just think I'm a lying liar who lies, those idealists among you will hold out hope that I will in fact write more tomorrow....
All this positive thinking is very refreshing, no? No, it's usually annoying and not appreciated, but that's ok, too. I think God made different outlooks to create balance!
My own dear hubby hates Mondays. He tends to look back at what didn't get done, while I see a fresh slate. But at times, as surprising as this sounds, I tend to be somewhat of an idealist, while my sweet husband is more of a realist. He doesn't ever burst my bubble; he just keeps me from floating too far away in it.
I realize that the last time I visited my little corner of the internets, I wrote that I would be back tomorrow. Well, technically this is a tomorrow. As Annie put is so succinctly, tomorrow is always a day away... In fact there has been around 6 months of tomorrows between my last post and now.
Now as I embark on a new year, I plan on blogging more, and succeeding on that diet and even finally cleaning out that coat closet... and while some who are more "realists" might just think I'm a lying liar who lies, those idealists among you will hold out hope that I will in fact write more tomorrow....
Monday, March 09, 2009
'Member Me?
Forgive me, reader for I have been absent. It has been 5 months since my last post.
So much has happened since then there is no possible way to catch you all up... but I'll try.
Here now is short summary of life since the last post sung to the tune of 12 days of Christmas
Since the last post on this blog
this has happened to me
12 diets started
11 diets ended
10 friends found on facebook
9 thousand text messages
8 nursing home tours
7 video projects
6 rooms to pack
5 holidays
4 thousand emails
3 hospital or nursing home admissions
2 broken bones
and not even one single blot post about them
I promise I will be back tomorrow. I won't abandon you, my dear faithful readers, again... Hello? Are you there? Hmmm..maybe I'm too late.
So much has happened since then there is no possible way to catch you all up... but I'll try.
Here now is short summary of life since the last post sung to the tune of 12 days of Christmas
Since the last post on this blog
this has happened to me
12 diets started
11 diets ended
10 friends found on facebook
9 thousand text messages
8 nursing home tours
7 video projects
6 rooms to pack
5 holidays
4 thousand emails
3 hospital or nursing home admissions
2 broken bones
and not even one single blot post about them
I promise I will be back tomorrow. I won't abandon you, my dear faithful readers, again... Hello? Are you there? Hmmm..maybe I'm too late.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Pink Ribbons as Blinders
So, we are driving down the street and we see a sign outside a doctor's office....
"Breast Cancer Awareness Month"
The problem is, I'm driving about 40 mph and my 12 year old only reads at about 20 mph...
This is what he got out of the sign...
"Breast Awareness Month" You can only imagine the hilarity that ensued.
Thank you... but I'd rather he not be that aware at 12 years of age.
"Breast Cancer Awareness Month"
The problem is, I'm driving about 40 mph and my 12 year old only reads at about 20 mph...
This is what he got out of the sign...
"Breast Awareness Month" You can only imagine the hilarity that ensued.
Thank you... but I'd rather he not be that aware at 12 years of age.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Kitchen Caution
Look, it's not like I'm a great chef anyway. My 12 year old knows his way around a kitchen better than I do. It's not that I'm not a good cook... Ok, it's not ONLY that I'm not a good cook.. It's also that I'm busy, busy, busy! I'm constantly multitasking and thinking about a great many things other than cooking. However, when one is not completely focused on the task at hand bad things can happen.
In my defense, the bottles do look an awful lot alike, don't they?
I will say... that Smoothie was Smokey!
In my defense, the bottles do look an awful lot alike, don't they?
I will say... that Smoothie was Smokey!
Thursday, August 21, 2008
the birthday boy embraces his inner nerd...
I might well be a bad, absent at times blogger, but I am an even worse blogger mother! My oldest turned 15 and didn't even get a mention... I am here to correct that now!
Happy Birthday Cody!
This is an excerpt from our homeschool yearbook I made for this past school year. This was the culmination of Cody's coop study of Ancient Greece. Cody made his costume out of a red sheet I wasn't aware I didn't need anymore. He built his own sword with foam and PVC pipe, and fashioned his hoplite shield out of a trash can lid and lots of black and red duct tape. He joked after he was all dressed up and ready to go that he was "embracing his inner nerd". Dillon agreed with him saying (in his best nerdy accent)... "the star trek convention awaits us."
As you watch, realize the students took a few liberties.. I don't think I recall any place where it spoke of Spartan Warriors battling it out with Athenian philosophers. I'm not sure the swords really work with the togas.. but I can tell you this. The kids had a blast. And so did I. It is thrilling to watch your kids get so excited about learning.
So watch and enjoy.. (fyi.. Cody is the sword wielding maniac in the long flowy red robes... that were so previously really usable and good sheets)
Happy Birthday Cody!
This is an excerpt from our homeschool yearbook I made for this past school year. This was the culmination of Cody's coop study of Ancient Greece. Cody made his costume out of a red sheet I wasn't aware I didn't need anymore. He built his own sword with foam and PVC pipe, and fashioned his hoplite shield out of a trash can lid and lots of black and red duct tape. He joked after he was all dressed up and ready to go that he was "embracing his inner nerd". Dillon agreed with him saying (in his best nerdy accent)... "the star trek convention awaits us."
As you watch, realize the students took a few liberties.. I don't think I recall any place where it spoke of Spartan Warriors battling it out with Athenian philosophers. I'm not sure the swords really work with the togas.. but I can tell you this. The kids had a blast. And so did I. It is thrilling to watch your kids get so excited about learning.
So watch and enjoy.. (fyi.. Cody is the sword wielding maniac in the long flowy red robes... that were so previously really usable and good sheets)
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
More Vacation Fun
Ok, here's the thing, a picture may be worth a thousand words, but it still doesn't quite do justice to how truly lovely Turner Falls is.. umm.. err... are? Are they plural Falls, or is it a singular park? Oh, who cares.. It was vacation.Turner Falls started out well enough. We drove in , parked the car after exploring for a bit. If you must know, Cody had started the miserable teenage bit first. He was none to happy to see other people there. One would think that he expected us to rent the entire park all to ourselves. But Cody is nothing if not proactive, and he apparently sent his complaints to God, since it was obvious I wasn't going to do anything about them. Just about the time, Dillon got in the water, the pool that the falls emptied into, the skies lets loose with a vengence. Lighting and thunder erupted and everyone was out of the water.. umm, unfortunately that included Dillon who was none too happy.. as this picture I snapped on our way to shelter affirms...
Notice the evil glint in Cody's eye, as he realizes his masterful plan worked. People were leaving the park by the van loads... and we, if we could wait out the storm, would have the whole park to ourselves. Doesn't he just look like he's about to explode with manical laughter... and, Jim.. well, he's trying to give Dillon lessons and smiling through the pain (Did I mention seconds before the storm started, which was seconds after Dillon jumped in, he cut his foot on a rock.) Dillon isn't falling for it.. and it's not working too well for Jim... How will we ever salvage this day?
We waited the storm out by changing in the bathrooms and posing for pictures. Jim even pulled his guitar out and serenaded us on top of the mountain. The boys smiles are coming back...
And then the rain stopped, and we had the park and all it's meandering pools mostly to ourselves. But never one to be without complaints, Cody reached into his bag of nags and made note that the rocks were slippery and the water tasted awful. But I do know that for a few seconds he had carefree fun..
This might be my favorite photo from the whole trip. I caught this image while we were hiking up at the top of the mountains. Please note that I was scared to death that my baby was this close to the edge of this cliff... I realize that he doesn't look much like my baby anymore, and this photo doesn't show how far down the stream is...
In addition to hiking, Jim and Dillon went spelunking. Can you believe they actually crawled in this itty bitty hole?
and came out on the other side... without one bat bite...
One more cool thing about the park... Apparently in the 30's some guy who had more money than he knew what to do with built a castle. My kids love all things medieval, but the flight of steps it took to get to the castle at the end of the day, coupled with the fact the castle was now a nest for millions of daddy long legs seeking knight hood, made it extra special.We had a great time.. despite the cut foot, storms, slippery rocks, silty water never meant to be drinking water... even with all the eeewww! , there was still plenty of oohh! and aaaahh! and lots of awe as we were able to get away, far from the cell phones and e-mails. We were able to be a family without interruption... and I would do it again in a heart beat.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
It's a Family Vacation
The fearless family sets out on their first ever, every one included, family vacation. Notice how excited the boy and the mom look. The teenager looks like a teenager, complete with ear phones.. and the dad already looks tired. He really needed this vacation.
First Activity: Fishing
These fishermen may not have caught any fish.. but the certainly had fun, while I worried about someone getting hooked during a cast. What? I'm a mom.. worrying about obscure accidents is my job.
Next stop.. Arbuckle Wilderness.
this lovely llama really wanted me to roll down my window. But I wasn't sure if llamas were spitting or biting type creatures.. so the window remained tightly sealed. Until....
straight out of jurassic park... this emu approached my side of the car. Jim was rolling down his window to feed some cute and cuddly creature on his side of the vehicle...but pressed the wrong button.. AND ROLLED MY WINDOW DOWN BRINGING ME FACE TO BEAK WITH THIS LOVELY THING. Jim claims it was accident. I'm not so sure.
All the animals were beautiful.. er, ok.. the emu was in his very own odd way, a handsome bird.
Here are a few of the other friends we made.
Arbuckle wilderness was a huge highlight of the trip. And I think the animals thought we were the tourist attraction. They were all so curious about us. OK, we had food. They could have cared less about us except for the fact that we had large Pepsi cups filled with some kind of generic animal chow, formulated for the needs of donkeys, llamas, emus, ostriches, camels, giraffes, bovines, and the list goes on... And to think my boys think I'm required to make special meals for each of them according to their individual tastes. From now on, they get pellets from a Pepsi cup.
come back tomorrow to see more from our trip!
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