A Day in the Life of me

8:00 am  I’m awoken to my phone chirping that I have a text message.  I roll over and it’s from McKayla, “Can you pick me up, I’m feeling sick”.

We’ve been battling the weirdest stomach flu ever at our house.  It started with Nathaniel who complained his tummy hurt and the announced he was going to throw up and then promptly threw up all over the bathroom.  Afterwards, he was completely fine.  He ate dinner, he helped clean the kitchen, he read to me, I read to him and he fell asleep.  This was followed by Michael screaming his stomach hurt and then throwing up all over the other bathroom, declaring himself better and going back to bed.  And then Jacob woke up in the middle of the night to cry how much his tummy hurt, “Why does God make my tummy hurt?  Please pray over me!  I think I might die.” We tend toward the dramatic in this house.  Everyone woke up one more time, threw up all over the floor and then went back to bed.  We would have labeled it possible food poisoning, except the following night Marshall was hit and Michael once more.  My poor, poor carpet. On the bright side, my bathrooms are sparkly clean.

So, when McKayla said she wasn’t feeling well, I came to get her right away before she threw up all over the halls.  She’s having a hard enough time without being known as “the girl who lost her breakfast all over the halls”.  I don’t think anyone could ever live that one down.

9:00 the glamorous life of homeschooling 4 boys.

9:23  SQUIRREL!  no, not a distraction, an actual squirrel.  The largest squirrel we’ve ever seen.  It was looked less like a squirrel and more like a cat with a bushy tail.  It sat right by our bird feeder, stared through the window with a look that said, “WTF People, why is this bird feeder empty?  This is unacceptable!”

9:40 back to learning.

11:17  OH CRAP PEOPLE!!!!  GET YOUR BATHING SUITS ON RIGHT NOW!!!!!  GO!!!  GO!!!!  GO!!!!  WE HAVE TO BE AT SWIM LESSONS IN 13 MINUTES!!!!

11:22 

Jake:  Oh no mom!  I forgot to take off my underwear!

Me:  Oh, well.  That’s okay, you can swim with them and we’ll come home without underwear.

Jake:  I don’t want to go home with no underwear!

Me:  Sorry, We don’t have time to change when we get there.

11:26 Jake:  You don’t have to worry about my underwear.

Me:  I wasn’t terribly worried, but why don’t I have to worry?

Nate:  ‘Cuz he was getting naked back here!

Jake:  Yep, I took off my swim suit, took off my underwear and then put my swim suit on.  All while buckled into my car seat!  Now I can have dry underwear!

Me:  For the win!

11:30  We make it to swim lessons right on time.

I have thought about doing something with those 30 minutes of freedom.  I could totally go run for 20 minutes, but then I’d have to give up the entertainment of watching swimming lessons.  For whatever reason, Jacob is absolutely terrified of water.  He doesn’t like getting his head wet.  He doesn’t like letting go of the wall.  He doesn’t like the whole idea of getting in the water.  It’s rather comical.  Though its rather hard to swim holding on to the instructor like they are your personal life raft during a tsunami, it’s hysterical to watch.  When they got to the pool the instructor had them put on floaties that go around their middles.

Jake:  This is ridiculous, there is no way this can ever hold me.

Instructor:  No, really this works great.  Let go from the wall, I promise you won’t sink.

Jake:  No, thank you.

Jake’s swimming looks, less like swimming and more like motion by electrical shock.  Meanwhile, Nathaniel swims circles around him trying to convince him he’s completely safe.

Jake:  NATHANIEL!  You are going to drown.  Touch the wall!

Nate:  I’m fine. Perfectly safe.

Jake:  MOM WE ARE GOING TO DROWN!!!  (we tend to the dramatics here)

12:15  We arrive at home.  I’m not sure if it’s the combination of the chlorine and the screaming at the pool or the lack of caffeine but I have a killer headache.  Lunch is made, school is wrapped up and I decide to lay down before my head splits into two.

 

1:00  “Mom, are you asleep?”

Me:  I was.

Random child:  Can we jump on the jumpoline?

Me:  Okay, open the door so I can hear you.

For the next 45 minutes I hear kids happily bouncing on the trampoline intermingled with whinnying, complaining, crying and laughing.

I’m sure you know where this is going.

1:45  I hear mike scream like he was just pounced on by a tiger.  Followed by Nathaniel screaming and then Jacob screaming.  At first I wonder if maybe zombies attacked them and they are now pinned inside the trampoline net.  This may not seem like a likely scenario, but it’s probably as likely as all three of them being hurt simultaneously with enough damage to elicit the amount of screams I’m hearing.

Mike comes running in the house dripping blood from his head “He broke my head!!  Oh my gosh!  HE BROKE MY HEAD!!!! CAN YOU SEE MY BRAINS???  (the drama)

I assess the head damage and it’s minor.

Me:  You’re fine.  Jump in the bathtub so you stop bleeding all over everything.

I assess Nathaniel.  He’s completely fine.  No blood anywhere.  We can’t find Jacob.  McKayla goes to look for him.  Marshall gets out all of the first aid supplies.

Marshall:  I am completely qualified to wrap his whole head in gauze.  I have almost earned my first aid merit badge.

Me:  Okay, Tell me exactly what happened.  Marshall I think we can hold off on mummyfing your brother for a few minutes.

Mike:  HE BROKE MY HEAD!!!  We were jumping and Nathaniel’s chin hit my head and broke it!!!

McKayla:  I found Jacob, he was crying under the bed scared.

I look more closely at his head, but can tell if it’s ER worthy or not.  I call Dave.  He doesn’t answer.  I call him 4 times in a row.  Still no answer. I call my mother-in-law.  No answer.  I take a photo of his bloody head and text it to dave.  I call my best friend whose been to the ER for two head injuries on two separate kids.  No answer.  I call her cell.

Me:  THANK GOD YOU ANSWERED!

Her:  What’s up!  Did you know they sell vanilla vodka!  I have some in my cart!

Me:  Why do you live so far away!!!  I need Vodka!  (I promise, we always speak in such a way that requires all of these exclamation points).  How did you know that you needed to take the boys to the ER?

Her:  The copious amounts of blood on one kid and being able to see his skull on the other one.

Me:  What does skull look like?  Do you think I could text you a picture?

Her:  Didn’t you just meet your insurance deductible?

Me:  I know, but I hate the ER.

Her:  Just think of it as a little break.  Bring a book.

2:15  So off we went to the Urgent Care. There wasn’t anyone there but the intake lady was on the phone.  A nurse came by to see if we were okay.

Me:  Um, can you look at his head and let me know if you think this might need stitches?

Her:  Oh, yeah, that’s probably going to need some s-t-a-p-l-e-s (in a mock whisper).

Mike turns a little green.  While we wait for the doctor I text Mike’s coach.  “Mike probably won’t make it to practice.  We’re at the ER.  Tragic trampoline accident.  Mike’s head vs his brother’s chin.  Chin wins”

Mike:  Did you call dad?

Me:  I did but he didn’t answer.  I texted him a picture of your head.

Mike:  Is he coming?

Me:  I haven’t heard yet.  Probably not.

Mike:  Oh, I kinda need him.

Me:  What am I?  Chopped liver?

We get back to the doctor and explain the whole story. She washes the wound and offers us staples or super glue.  I was really trying to sell the staples, but Mike wanted the super glue.

Me:  Come on!  Don’t you want to see the medical stapler?  Maybe it’s run by an air compressor.  Kachunk!  Kachunk!  Kachunk!

I don’t know why that didn’t win him over.  I can’t imagine why he wanted Dave and not me…

Mike:  Do you think I can go to baseball practice?Doctor:  I don’t see why not.

3:45 We head home, Mike quickly changes into his baseball clothes and we’re off to practice.

 

6:00 Home from baseball everyone quickly eats frozen pizza, prepared by chef McKayla and changes into Awana uniforms.

6:30 All of the boys are dropped off at church.

6:45  I run home and take a quick shower, down some more Advil, because my head still feels like it might crack open at any minute and my eyeball will fall out.

7:15 I run to a Cubscout leader meeting.

8:15 I leave the riveting leaders meeting, mid discussion on Fish drops and run to pick up all the kids from church.

9:00 When we are all finally home, Dave inspects Mike’s head.

Mike:  How big is it? Do you think my brains will leak out?  Do you think we should make a doctor appointment to get my bones checked?  Don’t you think my skull has to be really wimpy because Nate’s baby chin could crack it?  Should I wear a helmet all the time? Should I sleep sitting up?

No wonder he wanted Dave.  All these unspoken fears he’d been carrying around all day.  Poor kid.

 

 

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Thankful Tree

I love Pinterest.  I love all the ingenious (and sometimes not so ingenious) ideas.  I also hate Pinterest because I should be doing all these great ideas, or at least some of them.  Why don’t we ever playing outdoor bowling with our old water bottles and glow sticks?  I am a failure as a mother.  You see where this leads?  It’s never good.

I don’t think I did anything that I pinned for Halloween. No giant spiders made of Styrofoam balls, no cookies made with various candy pieces to look like Haunted mansions, no spooky decorations made of pipe cleaners.  It was rather anticlimactic and depressing around here.

I’ve decided to get on the ball for Thanksgiving.  We made a thankful tree.

The directions I found used butcher paper, but I knew that if I waited to go buy butcher paper, I’d never make the tree.  I cut apart paper grocery bags and taped them together in a tree shape.  First thing I’m thankful for:  God is an artistic God.  So, glad he’s in charge of the trees not me.  Otherwise all forests would be incredibly spooky looking.  Note to self:  Next year put up the thankful tree October 1st.  It can add to the decor.

Once I taped up the tree  trunk and the kids helped me attach the limbs, I cut out leaves from construction paper.  Again, glad I’m not in charge of leaves.  Knowing how much of a procrastinator I am, I cut out all the leaves for this week today.  Our tree is rather unique.  It has maple leaves, oak leaves, and hand leaves.  I am storing the leaves on my fridge for easy access.

Each of us picked a leaf and wrote what we were most thankful today for.  I love what they all picked, completely on their own.

McKayla (not pictured):  My family

Marshall:  I’m thankful for candy.

Mike:  I’m thankful for pets.

Jake:  I’m thankful for books.

Me:  I’m thankful for a Merciful God.

and Nate’s:

I can’t wait to see how full this tree looks on Thanksgiving!

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Oh people, I’m not ready for this

There were rumors that Homecoming was going to be the first Friday back to school.  Oh the mental anguish of a teenager.

Her: How will I ever get asked?  No one knows me?!?

Me:  Well, except for the 4 bajillion friends you have on facebook.

Then Homecoming turned out to not be Friday but later, giving teens time to give not-so-subtle hints and plan extravagant proposals for Homecoming dates.  The extra time did not stop the  worrying and fretting though.

And then it happened, she was asked.

And she rejected the invitation.

“I heard no one’s asked you to Homecoming yet.  I bet you’re getting nervous.  It probably means I don’t have to do any of that stupid silly stuff everyone has already done.  Do you want to go with me?”

“If you can’t even ask me nicely, I don’t think I can go with you.”

There were rumors that boys were testing the waters and asking probing questions.  There was still lots of fretting and worrying though.  What if noone followed through?

Then there were lots of neutral and ambiguous texts and facebook messages like:

What’s your favorite kind of flower?

So, what would be a really cute way to ask a girl to homecoming?

and my favorite:

I think you already know exactly how you want to be asked, and anything less than that would be a let down. 

Today, sometime around lunch, I received an excited text with pictures of the flowers and “Homecoming!!!!! :)”

I can’t even begin to tell you the mixture of emotions.  I am so incredibly happy for her.  I’m relieved that he’s her friend, a boy we’ve only heard good things about for months.  I’m glad that he went out of his way to make her feel special.

This is just the first of a new chapter for her.  First flowers from a boy, the first dance, the first dating scenario (because we are NOT calling this dating people!  We are calling this friends going to a dance!) and the first time a boy is going to come over to our house for dinner.

Him:  You’ll have to give me the heads up.  Are your parents super strict?  What should I wear? 

Her:  Dinner is a formal affair.  Dress shirt, tie, or polo would be fine.  You must gel your hair back.  Absolutely DO NOT make eye contact!  No touching.  EVER. 

Me:  That poor boy.

Her:  I know.  I don’t even know why he asked me. 

But I can’t help but feel a little bit sad. This whole growing up thing is happening so very, very fast.  There is so much talk about college and growing up and leaving:

Her:  I’m pretty sure I’m going to go to college far away and very rarely come home.  I feel like I’m going to want to go to Thanksgiving at my boyfriend’s house and then vacation over winter break. 

Me:  That would make me so very sad.  Who will do all the complaining on the holidays if you’re gone?

Her:  Okay, if I pick a college close by will you do my laundry for me?

Me:  Is this supposed to be a favorable situation for me? 

Her:  Yes.  I will still be close enough to come home for dinner and laundry regularly.  Won’t you be happy to see me often?

Me:  Maybe I can install a coin-op washer/dryer and you can invite all of your friends to do their laundry here. 

Secretly, I pray often that she will stick close by.  Don’t leak that to her though, she will probably take that as a clue to start looking at study abroad programs in Zimbabwe.  I don’t know how I would survive if she went away and married a boy and they settled far away.  Already I have regular crying fits about my sisters possible, potential, not even close to being conceived unborn children.

Me sobbing to Dave: I’m so sad.  I’m never going to feel my sister’s pregnant belly.  The likelihood that I’ll get to hold my minute old niece is so very slim. 

Dave:  Is your sister pregnant?

Me: No.  I’m just talking hypothetically here.  I guess I could visit for her whole third trimester so that I’m there when she goes into labor.  But then, if I’ve been there for three months I’m pretty sure she will be sick of me and ask me to go home.  Really, my only hope is that my sister decides to go back to work after her baby is born.

Dave:  So, you’re hoping she marries someone who can’t provide for her to stay at home?

Me:  No, maybe she will love her job.  Maybe she’ll find it incredibly rewarding and want to go back.  If she goes back, that’s my only hope. Then I could convince her to send my niece to me every summer.  Free babysitting!  How else will I get to know my niece.  Otherwise I’ll just be auntie chanel who sends really cool presents and crochets her crazy dolls and sends frilly dresses because lets face it, I suck at calling people, I can never mail a birthday present on time, and I hate to skype.

Dave:  I’m sure this pretend niece will love you wherever we live.

Me:  I’m pretty sure I’m screwed.  I should start selling how much I love it here in the land of Big Foot.  Maybe I can encourage her to move here.  She can move into McKayla’s room when she goes to college.

I can’t imagine a grandchild thousands of miles away.  Honestly, I really can’t imagine a college age kid.  It’s hard enough reconciling this teenage kid with my baby girl.

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Crocheting, it’s hilarious (to me)

Honestly, I never really wanted to crochet, I wanted to knit.  I love the way knitted things look.  I really wanted to knit a Waldorf doll.  Alas, my friend Michelle taught herself to crochet and handed the book down to me.  It was a  teach yourself to crochet in 5 minutes book.  She had taught herself to crochet in 5 minutes.  It took me something like 5 hours and nothing I made was terribly pretty.  I just couldn’t figure it out.  My aunt came to visit and showed me the basics.  As soon as she left though, I was back to square one.  Eventually, I turned to youtube and watched the same videos over and over until I had figured out how to do a single crochet.  5 minutes, 5 months.  Basically the same thing.

I enjoy crocheting for a few reasons.

For the most parts its monotonous work.   Once I get a pattern down I can crochet by feel.  I can  crochet and watch tv, baseball, even read.  I joke with Dave that if I ever go blind I can still crochet. He’ll just have to read me the pattern and color coordinate the yarn.   I don’t know why I have a fear of going blind, maybe it’s this whole getting older thing and having to wear my glasses more consistently rather than sporadically at night.  Regardless, I find myself tucking small tidbits of things away in the dark recess of my brain in case I do go blind.  Crocheting happens to be one of them.

Also, I read somewhere that crocheting is one of the few handcrafts which can not be replicated by a machine.   There aren’t too many things left that can’t be replicated.  It makes me feel rather superior.  Unfortunately, not being able to be replicated by a machine tends to make all things crocheted look terribly homemade in my opinion.  I don’t think I would ever wear a crochet sweater or dress.  Since, I personally, don’t love crochet things, I make them and give them away.

And, it keeps me warm.  I start crocheting a blanket and eventually the blanket gets larger and larger and consumes more and more of my lap.  This is important here in the arctic tundra, especially with children who want me to watch every single minute of every game and practice.

If you have something I made, you are welcome.

To increase the personal enjoyment factor, I make a ton of hideous things and then give them away to friends and family impressing upon them how many hours of labor I spent making them the crochet monstrosity because I love them.  Hence, pretty much obligating them to love said monstrosity forever and forever and never give it away.  Of course, unless it’s the Smithsonian, then that would be okay.

Case 1:

Lots and lots of little stuffed animals.  My favorite are probably Mario and Luigi:  Which are cute, but honestly, what is anyone going to do with these other than put them on a shelf and look at them because I’m not sure that their heads will make it through any actually play.

Case  2:

Hats.  They are so easy.  i’ve made beanies, crowns, not to mention tons of characters.  I gave everyone I knew a hat for Christmas, mostly Ninja turtles and star wars characters.

Case 3:

My poor sister who has received Harry Potter scarves, the largest afghan ever in a beautiful purple chevron pattern (which was just a jab because I  heard she was going without heat because she couldn’t figure out how to turn the heater on in her new apartment and was huddling around votive candles from ikea.) She also was gifted with an R2D2 beanie and a princess lea beanie. She has the geekiest coiffed head in LA.  Not to mention Doby.

Dave:  What is your poor sister going to do with all this stuff?” 

Me:  I don’t know, be surrounded by my love.

Case 4:

I make lots of things for the church bazaar.  Mostly baby things because I don’t have a baby to make them for.  I’ve made Baby blankets and baby hats and baby shoes.   Hopefully the church can make some moolah off this rearrangement of yarn.

Case 5:

My favorite though is probably this crowning jewel of my afghan making.

When Dave was traveling to China I started watching Roseanne on Netflix.  I enjoyed it because I had already seen every episode before so I didn’t have to concentrate too hard on it.  I could crochet or peruse the Internet and never truly feel distracted.  Somehow I hooked my friend Renee on it.  I gave up around season 2 because I couldn’t stand Roseanne Barr’s screechy voice any longer.  She watched the whole show, all 87 seasons.

I did what any best friend would do.  I made her the Granny square afghan that was on the back of Roseanne’s couch for the whole show.  I tried very hard to make it as ghastly ugly as possible.  I used all of my left over yarn, which included a surprisingly large amount of neon colors.

For months I told her that I had completed number 42 of 120 of her Birthmas present , because this was too awesome to be given just as a birthday or Christmas gift.  Then once each of the million squares was finally finished the real work of crocheting them together began.  To be followed by crocheting a boarder all around.

Me:  I am going to embroider “This took me for freaking ever” on this present.  You may never give this away.

Her:  I know it’s because you love me.

Me:  If I find this in a thrift store, I may actually kill you.  Of course I will bury you with it after I kill you.  Which I will find hilarious for ever.

Her:  I’m kinda scared about this present now.

Me:  You will love it.  And even if you don’t that’s okay.  Every time I work on this I chuckle to myself.  I expect this to have a prime spot in your living room and I will find it hilariously funny for the rest of my life.   Except you can’t let the kids touch it or the dog near it because I’m not sure it’s washable.  It might completely fall apart.

And after months and months, I finally finished it.  It had layed around my house providing lots of color during the long winter and when I packed it up to be shipped, I found that I did miss it terribly.

Marshall:  You know what would be awesome?

Me:  What?

Marshall:  If we infested this with lice before we sent it to Renee.

Me:  That wouldn’t be funny.

Marshall:  She’d flip.  It would be hilarious.  (Chuckling to himself).  How do you get lice?

Me:  By washing your hair.  Go wash your hair.

No louse was sent intentionally, or unintentionally….

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