Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Lost Posts of Yesteryear
Ok blog readers, I was scrolling through some old posts of mine and found a few drafts that I had never finished and never posted. So I finished them...and posted them. And if you want to read them you will have to go back to April 22, 2010 and Feb 3, 2010.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Nighttime Conversation
While we were on vacation the girls and I shared a bed, and David & Tate shared a bed. At Pine Lake, the girls and I even had our own little room in the log cabin. It is so peaceful sleeping out there. Once the lights go out, only the light of the moon shines through the window. There aren't any cars driving by, or distant train whistles. Just the sounds of crickets chirping, bullfrogs croaking, and the occasional coyote howling. Ok, well that last one is a bit unsettling.
Each night after the lights went out the girls and I would talk until we fell asleep. The first night we got on the subject of names we liked. They enjoy hearing about the different names we thought of for each of them before they were born. Sydney, Camryn, Piper, Emerson, Luke, Dawson, etc.
The next night we started in on the same subject. Then Reese said, "Mommy? Do you think you'll have another baby?".
"No, I don't think so. Daddy and I are very happy with our little family so I don't think I'll be having another baby.".
It got quiet for a minute and I thought our conversation was done and that they were falling asleep.
"Mommy? Do you like orphans?" came her next question.
"Yes, I like orphans," I replied.
More silence. I settled in to go to sleep.
"Do you have to buy orphans or do they just give them to you?".
"Well, sweetie, there is usually money involved for different things related to the adoption but it's not like you're buying the actual orphan. And then you would spend money to travel to the country where they were born in so you can get them."
I paused, waiting for her next question and when it didn't come right away I laid back down on my pillow.
"When we get home can we get an orphan?".
"Well, it doesn't happen that quickly. It takes a lot of time and planning. That is something that Daddy and I would have to pray about to see if it's what God wanted for our family."
"How do you know if God wants you to do something?".
"You pray about it. He sort of leads you in the direction He wants you to go. You get a feeling in your heart. Like when you see someone drop a book at school and you get a little feeling in your heart that you should bend down and pick it up for them to help them. He will also open doors for you which means he will make things happen along the way that let you know you are going the way He wants you to go."
She rolled over at this point and seemed satisfied with my answer. Finally she said, "Mommy? Could you pray now because I just did and I think the answer is 'No'".
Each night after the lights went out the girls and I would talk until we fell asleep. The first night we got on the subject of names we liked. They enjoy hearing about the different names we thought of for each of them before they were born. Sydney, Camryn, Piper, Emerson, Luke, Dawson, etc.
The next night we started in on the same subject. Then Reese said, "Mommy? Do you think you'll have another baby?".
"No, I don't think so. Daddy and I are very happy with our little family so I don't think I'll be having another baby.".
It got quiet for a minute and I thought our conversation was done and that they were falling asleep.
"Mommy? Do you like orphans?" came her next question.
"Yes, I like orphans," I replied.
More silence. I settled in to go to sleep.
"Do you have to buy orphans or do they just give them to you?".
"Well, sweetie, there is usually money involved for different things related to the adoption but it's not like you're buying the actual orphan. And then you would spend money to travel to the country where they were born in so you can get them."
I paused, waiting for her next question and when it didn't come right away I laid back down on my pillow.
"When we get home can we get an orphan?".
"Well, it doesn't happen that quickly. It takes a lot of time and planning. That is something that Daddy and I would have to pray about to see if it's what God wanted for our family."
"How do you know if God wants you to do something?".
"You pray about it. He sort of leads you in the direction He wants you to go. You get a feeling in your heart. Like when you see someone drop a book at school and you get a little feeling in your heart that you should bend down and pick it up for them to help them. He will also open doors for you which means he will make things happen along the way that let you know you are going the way He wants you to go."
She rolled over at this point and seemed satisfied with my answer. Finally she said, "Mommy? Could you pray now because I just did and I think the answer is 'No'".
Monday, July 26, 2010
Wrong Number
**Before reading this post you have to scroll down to my music playlist and select song #52 which I added specifically for this story. (Ok you don't really have to...but it does go nicely with the theme.)
Reese came flying down the stairs this afternoon yelling, "Tate! 9-1-1! Tate! 9-1-1!".
Of course, I started flying up the stairs at that point not knowing what fate had befallen my youngest. My worry turned to embarrassment/panic when she continued, "Tate called 9-1-1!".
David found some of our old cell phones a few days prior, that he let the girls have to play around with. They don't have the sim cards in them, but they did still have batteries. They promptly decorated them with stickers and sharpies and carried on dozens of pretend conversations and sent dozens of pretend text messages.
Since they still were able to turn on, there was a button on the left of the screen that said "SOS", meaning if it was held down long enough, it could dial 9-1-1.
I said, "What?! Hang up!". I actually wasn't sure what to do. Drue had already hung it up and shoved the phone into my hands. "You guys are not allowed to play with these anymore!" I said.
Reese is going to be a panicker like me. Her eyes were wide and she said, "That's ok. I don't even want to play with them anymore. That scared me! My heart is really fluttering!".
I flipped the phone open and turned it completely off. I wasn't sure of the proper etiquette in this situation. Should I call back and apologize? I know they have a way of tracking cell phones now and I didn't want them to dispatch any emergency personnel to our house. I was starting to get nervous. I thought for a second we would all just leave the house for awhile and return in an hour or so.
I kept listening for sirens and looking out the window like an illegal drug deal had just gone down in my living room. Reese was very nervous as well. She was talking a mile a minute about what would happen if they came to the house, what would I say to them, would I make sure they knew that it wasn't her or Drue who called them? Then she stopped mid sentence and said, "I have to put a shirt on so they don't see me in my swimsuit."
Drue hadn't said much at this point. Tate was curled up on the floor of the girls' room with his blanket. Drue finally said, "Why would they come to our house?".
"Because they don't know whether or not there is a real emergency here." I explained.
"Well, I told them 'no'", she said.
"What?" I asked her.
Then she explained the rest of the story to me that I had been too crazed to stop and listen to before. "Someone answered the phone and said, '9-1-1...do you have an emergency?' so I said loud into the phone, 'NO' and took it from Tate and hung up."
That little tidbit of information made me feel a little more relieved. I was still afraid they had somehow traced our location and were on their way to scold me. But they never showed.
Too much excitement for one afternoon. Out came the cell phone batteries. They will just have to add their own sound effects for the beeping numbers and whatnot. I have no doubt one of them will pretend to be a 9-1-1 operator during their next phone game.
Reese came flying down the stairs this afternoon yelling, "Tate! 9-1-1! Tate! 9-1-1!".
Of course, I started flying up the stairs at that point not knowing what fate had befallen my youngest. My worry turned to embarrassment/panic when she continued, "Tate called 9-1-1!".
David found some of our old cell phones a few days prior, that he let the girls have to play around with. They don't have the sim cards in them, but they did still have batteries. They promptly decorated them with stickers and sharpies and carried on dozens of pretend conversations and sent dozens of pretend text messages.
Since they still were able to turn on, there was a button on the left of the screen that said "SOS", meaning if it was held down long enough, it could dial 9-1-1.
I said, "What?! Hang up!". I actually wasn't sure what to do. Drue had already hung it up and shoved the phone into my hands. "You guys are not allowed to play with these anymore!" I said.
Reese is going to be a panicker like me. Her eyes were wide and she said, "That's ok. I don't even want to play with them anymore. That scared me! My heart is really fluttering!".
I flipped the phone open and turned it completely off. I wasn't sure of the proper etiquette in this situation. Should I call back and apologize? I know they have a way of tracking cell phones now and I didn't want them to dispatch any emergency personnel to our house. I was starting to get nervous. I thought for a second we would all just leave the house for awhile and return in an hour or so.
I kept listening for sirens and looking out the window like an illegal drug deal had just gone down in my living room. Reese was very nervous as well. She was talking a mile a minute about what would happen if they came to the house, what would I say to them, would I make sure they knew that it wasn't her or Drue who called them? Then she stopped mid sentence and said, "I have to put a shirt on so they don't see me in my swimsuit."
Drue hadn't said much at this point. Tate was curled up on the floor of the girls' room with his blanket. Drue finally said, "Why would they come to our house?".
"Because they don't know whether or not there is a real emergency here." I explained.
"Well, I told them 'no'", she said.
"What?" I asked her.
Then she explained the rest of the story to me that I had been too crazed to stop and listen to before. "Someone answered the phone and said, '9-1-1...do you have an emergency?' so I said loud into the phone, 'NO' and took it from Tate and hung up."
That little tidbit of information made me feel a little more relieved. I was still afraid they had somehow traced our location and were on their way to scold me. But they never showed.
Too much excitement for one afternoon. Out came the cell phone batteries. They will just have to add their own sound effects for the beeping numbers and whatnot. I have no doubt one of them will pretend to be a 9-1-1 operator during their next phone game.
Thursday, July 08, 2010
Checkups
Remind me the next time that I have to take all three kids in for their checkups to have the pediatrician slip me a script for some Valium.
Two fun-filled afternoons spent at the Peds office. Because they won't see them all in one visit. Like I have 10 kids or something. Really? They don't have an extra 30 seconds to throw Tate up on the scale? Here's an idea: I will trade them 10 minutes of my wait time in the tiny room of nothingness, for them to lift look into Tate's ears, nose, & throat.
I really like their doctor though, so it's all good.
I think this was the first visit in 4 years that I remembered beforehand that they would request a urine sample. Every other time I have dutifully made them potty before we left the house. So as they stand there hovering over the little plastic cup...we get nothin'. Zip. Zilch. Not even a drop. But this time we were prepared. Reese even said, "Mommy, this will be one time that you don't make us potty before we leave the house!". In toodled my very well hydrated little girls ready to pee their hearts out.
Once we got past the giggling, that is. All 4 of us crammed into the tiny bathroom and the giggling began. Somehow they were still able to do the deed. Tate was fascinated with the whole experience. Needless to say, it was much easier when his turn came around the next day. An expert aimer, that boy.
Drue is by far my best shot taker. Well, better than Reese anyway, who flailed about and hollered for her Kindergarten shots. I had already prepared Drue that she would be getting some shots. And that they would hurt at first, but would be over in a flash. Reese kept reinforcing that fact that Drue would be getting a shot, but not her. I couldn't remember if there was one I was forgetting about for Reese so I tried to prepare her as well, just in case.
She didn't end up needing any, so I plopped Drue up on the table. The nurse said nonchalantly, "Ok, first I'm going to prick your finger....".
Oops. Totally forgot about that test. Hadn't prepared her or me. Huge tears spilled down her cheek and I couldn't do anything to stop it. The nurse just kept squeezing out more blood. I thought I was over crying when my kids got shots. Not so. If they are crying, I'll be crying...or at least tearing up.
It was fun to see how much the girls have grown. Drue continues to be 100% for height. Reese was 75%. Which she thought meant she wasn't as good as Drue.
I herded them all out, turned in my forms at the check out desk, retrieved some oversized stickers for the girls and we went on our merry way. We got into the elevator to go back down and Drue was still teary eyed so I was trying to console her some more. Reese pressed the button and as the doors closed, I happened to look up and catch a glimpse of Tate, on the other side of the doors! Of course I panicked. In our elevator at work there is an "open" button that will simply open the door back up instantly. My hands flew over the button choices but I didn't see that option there. I quickly pushed "2" because we were on the 2nd floor and the door slowly creaked back open to reveal my sweet little boy, whom I gently grabbed and pulled to safety.
When we finally made it home, there was a message on our answering machine. It was the pediatrician's office calling...reminding us of Tate's appt the next day. I laughed at the time the call came through. We had been sitting right in their lobby when they called.
Tate's visit went much more smoothly. I was relieved to find out he wasn't as skinny as we thought. I had to fill out his little milestone sheet, which involved me having to ask him to jump on one foot, or tell me which line was longer, etc. After he answered each question he would say, "Yes! I'm good at this!". One of the questions was, "What do you do if you are hungry?". He said, "Ask Mommy, may I please have something to eat?".
He got his 2nd chicken pox shot. And he did great! He kind of whimpered, but that was really it. The entire way home he kept saying, "Mommy, I didn't even know it wasn't going to hurt. Mommy, I didn't even know I wasn't going to cry." He was so proud of himself. As we walked in the door, he promptly stepped on a sewing needle in the carpet. Irony stinks. He wailed.
Two fun-filled afternoons spent at the Peds office. Because they won't see them all in one visit. Like I have 10 kids or something. Really? They don't have an extra 30 seconds to throw Tate up on the scale? Here's an idea: I will trade them 10 minutes of my wait time in the tiny room of nothingness, for them to lift look into Tate's ears, nose, & throat.
I really like their doctor though, so it's all good.
I think this was the first visit in 4 years that I remembered beforehand that they would request a urine sample. Every other time I have dutifully made them potty before we left the house. So as they stand there hovering over the little plastic cup...we get nothin'. Zip. Zilch. Not even a drop. But this time we were prepared. Reese even said, "Mommy, this will be one time that you don't make us potty before we leave the house!". In toodled my very well hydrated little girls ready to pee their hearts out.
Once we got past the giggling, that is. All 4 of us crammed into the tiny bathroom and the giggling began. Somehow they were still able to do the deed. Tate was fascinated with the whole experience. Needless to say, it was much easier when his turn came around the next day. An expert aimer, that boy.
Drue is by far my best shot taker. Well, better than Reese anyway, who flailed about and hollered for her Kindergarten shots. I had already prepared Drue that she would be getting some shots. And that they would hurt at first, but would be over in a flash. Reese kept reinforcing that fact that Drue would be getting a shot, but not her. I couldn't remember if there was one I was forgetting about for Reese so I tried to prepare her as well, just in case.
She didn't end up needing any, so I plopped Drue up on the table. The nurse said nonchalantly, "Ok, first I'm going to prick your finger....".
Oops. Totally forgot about that test. Hadn't prepared her or me. Huge tears spilled down her cheek and I couldn't do anything to stop it. The nurse just kept squeezing out more blood. I thought I was over crying when my kids got shots. Not so. If they are crying, I'll be crying...or at least tearing up.
It was fun to see how much the girls have grown. Drue continues to be 100% for height. Reese was 75%. Which she thought meant she wasn't as good as Drue.
I herded them all out, turned in my forms at the check out desk, retrieved some oversized stickers for the girls and we went on our merry way. We got into the elevator to go back down and Drue was still teary eyed so I was trying to console her some more. Reese pressed the button and as the doors closed, I happened to look up and catch a glimpse of Tate, on the other side of the doors! Of course I panicked. In our elevator at work there is an "open" button that will simply open the door back up instantly. My hands flew over the button choices but I didn't see that option there. I quickly pushed "2" because we were on the 2nd floor and the door slowly creaked back open to reveal my sweet little boy, whom I gently grabbed and pulled to safety.
When we finally made it home, there was a message on our answering machine. It was the pediatrician's office calling...reminding us of Tate's appt the next day. I laughed at the time the call came through. We had been sitting right in their lobby when they called.
Tate's visit went much more smoothly. I was relieved to find out he wasn't as skinny as we thought. I had to fill out his little milestone sheet, which involved me having to ask him to jump on one foot, or tell me which line was longer, etc. After he answered each question he would say, "Yes! I'm good at this!". One of the questions was, "What do you do if you are hungry?". He said, "Ask Mommy, may I please have something to eat?".
He got his 2nd chicken pox shot. And he did great! He kind of whimpered, but that was really it. The entire way home he kept saying, "Mommy, I didn't even know it wasn't going to hurt. Mommy, I didn't even know I wasn't going to cry." He was so proud of himself. As we walked in the door, he promptly stepped on a sewing needle in the carpet. Irony stinks. He wailed.
Monday, July 05, 2010
Playing Makeup
Drue has arrived.
To the stage where she is "all about the make-up". Playing make-up, that is.
She loves getting out my make-up basket and trying out everything. When she is allowed to pick out something to buy at the store, she always gravitates toward the lip glosses. She even passed up the baby doll section of the $1 store the other day and went straight to the eye shadows.
No, she is not allowed to wear the make-up out of the house. Let's just clear that subject up right now. Only clear lip gloss with sparkles.
I told Drue that if she got a hit at her softball game tonight we could play make-up. She got a hit. One hit. And it was a foul ball. But she was so excited after the game and reminded me, "Mommy, I got a hit. Does that count for playing make-up?". I hadn't really specified that it had to be a fair ball.
Reese wanted to join in with us this time. They put on lip gloss and eye shadow mainly. We bypassed the masacara this time. It's too hard to get off their lashes, especially Reese's white lashes. After we finished I sent them downstairs for David to ooh and ahh over.
Both girls look forward to the day they can finally wear make-up for real. But I think I may have cured Reese of that longing altogether. After she came back upstairs from showing David I said, "Awwww....you look just like Daddy would look if we wore make-up."
"Ok...", she declared, "I am never wearing makeup ever when I grow up."
To the stage where she is "all about the make-up". Playing make-up, that is.
She loves getting out my make-up basket and trying out everything. When she is allowed to pick out something to buy at the store, she always gravitates toward the lip glosses. She even passed up the baby doll section of the $1 store the other day and went straight to the eye shadows.
No, she is not allowed to wear the make-up out of the house. Let's just clear that subject up right now. Only clear lip gloss with sparkles.
I told Drue that if she got a hit at her softball game tonight we could play make-up. She got a hit. One hit. And it was a foul ball. But she was so excited after the game and reminded me, "Mommy, I got a hit. Does that count for playing make-up?". I hadn't really specified that it had to be a fair ball.
Reese wanted to join in with us this time. They put on lip gloss and eye shadow mainly. We bypassed the masacara this time. It's too hard to get off their lashes, especially Reese's white lashes. After we finished I sent them downstairs for David to ooh and ahh over.
Both girls look forward to the day they can finally wear make-up for real. But I think I may have cured Reese of that longing altogether. After she came back upstairs from showing David I said, "Awwww....you look just like Daddy would look if we wore make-up."
"Ok...", she declared, "I am never wearing makeup ever when I grow up."
Sunday, July 04, 2010
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