No Takes Friday

I've been home with sick kids all week, so I'm not really feeling the Quick Take love this week. Truly, there is not much to report on when one has hardly left the confines of her home all week.

Except there is this: When I was taking pretzel sticks to the boys' school this morning (don't ask), I looked to see what movie was showing on our one-screen theater this weekend.

Of ALL the movies to choose from - like, I don't know, TWILIGHT or The Blind Side - they are showing Michael Jackson's This Is It.

Sometimes I love this town, and sometimes it makes me want to cry.

On Pee Cups and Throat Swabs

I've had to head to the pediatrician's office twice this week. The first time was for Lauren, the second for Ethan. Two visits; zero diagnoses.

Which is just what one hopes for when one has no insurance. I could have flown home for Christmas for what I'm spending in doctor's office fees and lab costs. Because, you know, the quick in-office test could have been wrong, so they have to send it to the lab for longer, more expensive testing.

Which also came back negative.

But, don't worry, there was lots of fun to be had while we were there. For the low, low price of only one arm and one leg, I was able to experience the joy of getting my three year old daughter to pee in a cup.

What? You haven't had the pleasure?

It only took three tries, several plastic cups, one rubber glove, countless tears, and forty-five minutes. All to find out that she did not have a UTI. Or at least, she probably didn't.

Since getting my five year old son to pee in a cup would not have been much of a challenge, he decided to have a ridiculously high fever and excruciating sore throat instead of painful urination. That way I could have his throat swabbed.

Still . . . a throat swab? That's not bad. Come on, it could be worse, right?

Yeah, they could make my everything-irritates-him, pulls-his-shirts-collars-down-to-his-nipples-because-they're-always-"choking"-him, can't-stand-anything-touching-his-neck son wear a mask. Apparently anyone who comes in with a fever and a cough must wear a surgical mask.

I could see him starting to freak out a little when I got the mask out of the box. As his eyes darted to and fro with that crazed must-escape-somehow look, I tried reassuring him that it wouldn't hurt. It's just thin, like paper. See, Ethan?

He folded his body inward and said he was scared to put it on in front of all the people in the lobby. No problem, said I, we can go down the hall and put it on right outside the door to the doctor's office. (The pediatrician's office in a hospital.) I carefully put it on him and tied the top string around his head.

His body tensed up, and I could see him starting to panic. We entered the waiting room, and hallelujah, there were no other people in it. It was an empty room! Surely, he won't have to wear the mask since the room is empty. Right?

Wrong.

I signed him in, asked the girl in the window if he had to wear it even though there was no one else in the room, was told yes he did, and turned around just in time to see his eyes well up and to hear my oh-so-brave five year-old wimper, "Mommy, I'm gonna cry!"

And cry he did.

Once he finally composed himself, it was time for the throat swab. You know, the strep-negative throat swab. The why-did-I-even-put-us-through-this throat swab. The send-it-off-to-the-lab-in-case-our-test-is-wrong throat swab. The you-could-have-bought-a-plane-ticket-instead-because-this-will-cost-you-so-much throat swab. The I-told-him-it-wouldn't-hurt-but-I-forgot-his-throat-was-already-raw-and-painful-even-BEFORE-he-began-crying-from-the-mask-from-hell throat swab.

Of course, it came back negative. And, apparently it did hurt.

At least he got what the doctor's office refers to as a "free" popsicle. Since it's pretty much all we got for our money, I'd say it was decidedly the most expensive popsicle he's ever eaten.

Thank you, Gaga!

The perfect antidote for a little girl's sickness arrived in the mail today.





I didn't realize the items inside the box were not wrapped, so I opened the box and was going to let her open just one thing and save the rest for her party. (I should have realized this since the box itself was wrapped in princess wrapping paper, but I didn't.) Once she got started, there was no stopping her.

She loves all of it. Thanks, Gaga!

7 Quick Takes Friday

1.

It's Friday. Which means only four days till Tuesday. As Joshua would say, "What matters that?"

Well, I'll tell you what matters that. Tuesday is when I am hosting a bunco group at my house.

Never heard me mention my bunco group? That's because technically, they're not "my" bunco group. Last month was my first time attending, so that means I've met 99% of the women in the group a grand total of . . . once.

So, what exactly made me open my big mouth and say I'd have the next one at my house? I have no idea. But, open it I did, so in four days I will have a whole bunch of women I have met once, most of whom have known each other for a loooong time, come to my not-done-being-decorated, usually-looks-like-the-circus-must-live-here, contains-only-one-table-with-chairs house to play bunco.

And, did I mention that the hostess provides the food and the prizes? (The money comes from the whole group, but the hostess is responsible for choosing and purchasing them.)

What have I done?

2.

It's become my routine to eat lunch around 12:30 every day. I usually turn on the television and catch the last half of What Not to Wear while I eat. (I don't really care for the first half where they tell all about the person and make fun of her clothes. I just like to see the new outfits and the hair & make-up makeovers.)

Of course, Lauren always wants to sit on the couch and watch it with me. She calls it "the haircut show." Upon hearing her playing with her dolls one day this week, I realized maybe I let her watch this too often. This was the running monologue she had going on:

"Hmm, it's a little longer than I thought. Let's fix this. Long hair doesn't always look good when you're old."

"Now I'm just fixing your eyebrows. Much better. And, you need some lipstick and some eyestick. Ooh, you look so good."

3.

Speaking of Lauren, she has begun to really dislike being away from me. She's started crying when she leaves for preschool, and her teacher told me that she cried for me for almost 20 minutes on Monday.

When I dropped her off on Wednesday, I said, "Now remember, there's no reason to cry. Mommy will be back in three hours, and you're going to have so much fun."

Nevertheless when I picked her up her teacher said she had cried again saying that she missed me. I asked her why she cried, and she said, "Mommy, I tried not to, but I just wanted you."

She never did this before and has never minded being away from me. Yesterday I had to make an all-day trip to Olean, so I asked her if she wanted to go with me or stay home with a sitter. She chose stay home because she hates the long drive. Still, when I got home our sitter (who is actually one of Lauren's cousins who has babysat her many times) said that she cried for me a couple of times.

Lauren said, "I just love you. You give me a lot of kisses, and I needed one."

4.

Operation Get Back Into My Jeans has officially begun.

Time for some brutal honesty. Just between you and me and the worldwide web, I have gained 17 lbs since I moved to Pennsylvania. SEVENTEEN! Consequently, I have decided that I must lose 15 pounds by Christmas. That gives me exactly six weeks from today. I began by getting back into a gym routine on Monday, and to give me even more incentive to stick with my exercise program, I'm taking classes to become a kickboxing instructor.

Yes, you read that right . . . a kickboxing instructor.

So, if you have any rude comments you'd like to make about me and my overweight butt, I'd suggest you do it now, because come January I will take you down.

You and my jeans size.

5.

Check out these homemade pretzels we made a few days ago:




They were so unbelievably good. I think if there is any hope of Operation Get Back Into My Jeans succeeding, I'd better not make them again.

(Yes, Lauren's is shaped like a cat.)

6.

I finally got around to listing my china on ebay last week, and the auction ended last night without a single piece of it selling.

I really want to buy some new dishes, and since we have used our wedding china approximately, I dont know, maybe zero times in nine years, I thought that would be a good way to pay for the new dishes I want.

Then again, maybe not. To add insult to injury, I still had to pay the ebay listing fees, so instead of making a little money, I spent a little money. Splendid.

7.

Sorry, folks. I have to go pick up Lauren, but if you need more Quick Takes, head over to Conversion Diary. You won't be sorry.

Perfectly Poetical Tuesday

One of many blessings that has come from discovering Sarah's awesome blog is that I found out about Perfectly Poetical Tuesday, a monthly event held over at The Little Stuff of Life.

One Tuesday each month she offers up a different theme or style of poetry and asks bloggers to submit their own original poetry.

I know. Sounds as exciting as watching paint peel, right?

I was an English major and have taught both high school and middle school English in my pre-lawyer life; nevertheless, I have never enjoyed writing poetry. I like reading the really famous stuff, but other than that I'm not even much of a poetry reader. I'm unimaginative, and I have a creative streak a millimeter wide.

But . . . this month's theme is the Cinquain. It's five lines with a prescribed (small) number of words in each line. Not much room for imagination, very little need for creativity, and only eleven words. Now that sounds like my kind of poetry.

So here's my contribution inspired by this photo I took last night:

Dancing
It's different
When you're alone
It's better with others
Siblings

Disco

Like most moms, I ask my kids the same questions every afternoon. "How was school today?" "Did you have a good day?" " What did you do?"

The answers are always similar: good. yes. nothing.

This is why it was so surprising to me after dinner last night when Joshua stood up and said, "Hey, watch me do my disco" and then proceeded to perform a full-on finger-pointing, hip-swaying Saturday Night Fever rendition. He was actually quite good.

Me: Where did you learn about disco?
J: At school.
M: In gym?
J: No, just at school.
M: Your teacher showed you?
J: Yeah, we always dance before handwriting.
M: Well, of course.

This is when Ethan hops out of his chair and starts doing criss-crossing hip-hop moves with his feet. "Look what I can do," he says.

Now I'm really intrigued.

Me: Ethan, where did you learn that?
Ethan: At school.
M: But where in school? In your classroom?
E: No, during brain gym.
M: Brain gym? What's brain gym.
E: It's when we all go in the hall and dance.
M: Who? Your class?
E: No, all the kindergarten classes.
M: All the kindergarteners go in the hall and dance together??? Every day???

For the record, when I was a kid and said I had done nothing at school, it was most likely true. But when you and your class are learning disco routines before handwriting or going in the hall to do a little criss-cross with 50 other kids, you absolutely may not say you did nothing at school.

7 Quick Takes Friday

1.

This is not going to be one of those posts where I say how sorry I am for not blogging much lately and promise to do better in the future. Don't worry, I'm not going to whine about how I haven't felt all that great and how busy we've been what with company and PTA meetings and conferences. Seriously, I'm not.

2.

It snowed most of the night last night, and it was the perfect time for it since the kids did not have school today. Last time it snowed, the ground would be covered every morning, but by the time they got home from school, it would be mostly gone. It's only 9:40 a.m., but so far they're calling today a great day.

3.

We had a great time with my mom, aunt, and niece here last week.





The kids partied, trick-or-treated, made a haunted house, baked mummy cookies.

There was only one thing missing:

4.

On the way home from taking everyone to the airport in Buffalo, Lauren and I made a stop at the mall. The wonderful, enormous, inviting, consumer-pleasing mall.

I must have looked like an idiot walking around with this big silly grin on my face, but let me tell you, it made me happy. It's amazing - and sad, I'm sure - how good it felt to suddenly have all the retail I could want right at my fingertips again.

Of course, I couldn't afford to actually purchase much of it, but just knowing it was right there with me was enough. It was like wrapping myself up in a big, cozy consumer quilt, pulling corners of Pottery Barn, Ann Taylor, Kirkland's, and Lord & Taylor around my shoulders all snug and secure.

I'm sure there's a therapy for this kind of thinking.

5.

Lauren loved it, too. As soon as we walked out of Lord & Taylor and she realized we were on the second floor, she started pleading to ride the "calculator" down to the first floor. I told her that we could indeed ride the escalator, and when she saw it she literally jumped up and down squealing with delight.

As we stepped onto it, I asked her if she was having a good time at the mall with just mommy. She looked up at me and said, "Mommy, this is so fun my pants aren't even irritating me anymore."

(She had cried for at least half an hour when I made her wear pants because she always wants to wear dresses. Apparently, a calculator ride is the cure.)

6.

It makes me sad to realize that she is my last baby. Last night as she was getting ready for bed, she asked where here "nightgowned" was. I love how she adds the "d" sound on the end and cannot bring myself to correct it. Once she stops mispronouncing words there will be no one left here to do it.

At least not in a way that is cute. I still have issues with metallurgy.

7.

Josh finished his newest picture at his art lesson this week:




Head over to Conversion Diary to check out more Quick Takes.

Trick or Treat

Wow, three Halloween-related posts in two days. Oh well, gotta document, right?

Ethan as a skunk. He got the most comments and laughter . . . from every house. I told him only to spray on the rude people.



Lauren as a princess. She has a really cute Cinderella dress on under the coat, but alas, it was 45 degrees and very windy, so she had to wear a coat. I put on her most princess-y looking one that her Grandma gave her, but it made her look more like Little Blue Riding Hood than a princess. Oh well, just don't tell Lauren.





Joshua as a ninja. Though for some reason I labeled the picture jedi. I guess they're kinda the same.



My niece Lesey as a Renaissance Queen. Not to be confused with another time period. I don't think queens back then typically colored their hair blue, but we had some colored hairspray, so they all wanted to use it.



This was our first time trick-or-treating in Tinytown, and it was awesome! In the past our experience with trick-or-treating has gone something like this: Walk up to closed door and ring doorbell. Person inside will come to door, hand you candy, and then close the door behind you.

That's not how it works here. Practically the whole town is decked out, and most people are sitting on their porches or in their driveways waiting for the kids. Closed doors were the exception tonight.







Josh wanted me to add this picture because, with his ninja hood on, you couldn't see that his hair was red and blue.

Happy Halloween

Look what we made!

The third floor haunted house

The kids decided today that they wanted to turn the third floor playroom into a haunted house. (For the record, my kids have never actually been to a haunted house. I value my sleep way too much to permit such a thing.) Joshua and Lesey spent over an hour working on it alone and then recruited the help of my aunt Bobbie who's here visiting. After school, Ethan and Lauren joined in the creation, and here's what I saw when I was finally allowed upstairs.

"The Haunted House"



"Enter if you dare"



The kids with Aunt Bobbie . . . the room is much creepier with the lights off, but then I can't get a good picture. (Though with the lights on, I'm not sure what's scarier - the spider webs or the mess on the floor!)





This is an Optimus Prime ghost, I'm told.



Joshua said they put these hangers on the floor because when I stepped on them in the dark, they would clang together and sound like bones. He was a bit disappointed when I did not mistake them for a human skeleton in my playroom.

Halloween parties

I loved getting to go to my kids' classes today to help with their Halloween parties. They love showing off how they know their way around, and I love seeing them in that environment.

Ethan's class made Halloween hats and were in the middle of reading to themselves when I arrived.






I have to brag on Ethan for a moment. I got to be there when his teacher announced who had perfect behavior for the month of October, and Ethan was the ONLY one. In fact, he has had perfect behavior the entire year, that great kid of mine. :)



Lauren wanted to sit in my lap and be held the whole time I was at her school. Except she did love to skip ahead of me and "show me the way."





"Pin the stem on the pumpkin" is maybe not her strong suit.




Unfortunately, Joshua is still sick, so no school for him. He and Lesey (my niece who's visiting from Georgia) have spent the afternoon busily turning our third floor playroom into a haunted house. I'll be back with pictures when I'm allowed to go up and look.

You might be at our house if . . .

I have spent the day getting my house ready for company.

Granted it's family, but still it's probably best not to have them show up to two-day old pb&j spots on the kitchen floor, piles of clean laundry on the sofa, and a dress-up bin that looks like it formed some kind of suicide-bomb pact with the transformers bucket wherein they blew themselves up in the playroom . . . which, unfortunately, also happens to be the guest room.

I know, it sounds too good to be true, right? It's sort of like Disneyland. But not.

But, seriously, life as a house-guest in a home with more kids than adults doesn't have to be all bad. If you're ever a guest at my house, here are a few pieces of advice I hope will make your stay as stress-free as possible:

1. Yes, those are dinosaur sheets on your bed, but hey, at least they're clean dinosaur sheets. That's more than I can say for my own bed.

2. If you're looking for 27-grain whole wheat bread and chickpeas in the pantry, don't fret. Just look behind the juice boxes, Spiderman mac-n-cheese, and graham crackers shaped like bumblebees. You'll find them.

3. Be careful getting out of bed during the night. Your room is also the playroom which houses approximately six billion and five tiny leggos. They hurt when you step on them, so I recommend using a night light. And shoes.

4. Don't be a towel snob. A piece of terrycloth is a piece of terrycloth, and if it happens to be shaped like a butterfly, it will still get you dry.

5. If you plan to sleep in, I recommend earplugs. Made by NASA.

6. Check the toilet seat before you sit down. I have boys. If they didn't put the seat down, don't worry, it could be worse. It could mean that they never lifted the seat, in which case there was almost definitely major splashage. Just check the seat.

I hope these tips will make your stay as relaxing as if you'd won an all-expenses paid cruise to Atlantis with a stop at day spa on the way and a wine-tasting on the way back.

If not, feel free to ask for a full refund.

A Refuge

Moving to a new town in a new state a thousand miles from home is not easy. Admittedly, it does not rank up there with serving in Iraq or becoming a missionary in Bulgaria or giving up sugar for Lent, but it's difficult nonetheless.

There have been many things that have made this transition easier than it could have been. Lots of family. A loving church. A great house with plenty of room for the kids to play inside or out. Good neighbor kids that provided my children with fast friends.

These things are all good. (Except when the neighbor kid teaches your seven year-old son how to do a supermodel walk . . . that's never good.) But, I realized recently that they cannot be what sustains me. While I'm thankful for these pieces of respite that God has mercifully provided, I must assess them accurately, not giving them a place of more importance than they deserve.

Yesterday in church we were singing a song that I love even if I have been singing it since I was four. It's taken directly from Psalm 91:

"He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. And I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge, and my fortress; my God in Him will I trust." (Ps 91:1-2, emphasis mine)

As I was singing those words, I felt the Lord speak to my spirit. The conversation went something like this.

"Am I?" He asked.
"Are you what?" I replied.
"Your refuge."
"Yes. Thank you, God, that you are my refuge."
"Am I?"
"Of course. Your word says you are."
"An umbrella keeps you dry but only if you use it. Am I your refuge?"
"Well . . . I guess so."
"I think you've been finding refuge elsewhere. In friends. In activities. In busy-ness. In projects. In entertainment. Am I your refuge?"

Lest you think I've completely lost it, this conversation took place entirely in my head. I did not hear God speak audibly about an umbrella any more than I took off on one like Mary Poppins, but I do believe He impresses these thoughts into my spirit and that they come from Him.

The good thing about God's voice is that it does not lead to condemnation but to conviction. The difference is that one leaves you feeling guilty and hopeless; the other leaves you feeling briefly saddened at your mistake but blissfully hopeful in the God of grace who showed you your mistake and wants to help you correct it.

There's nothing wrong with all the other things that I've been finding solace in, but it's important to be conscious of what I'm doing. God promises that He is my refuge and my strength, an ever-present help in trouble, a strong tower and a shield over my head. But that does not mean I can't find solace elsewhere. He is not the only refuge game in town, but the others will all prove a shabby substitute in the end.

Lord, help me to continually find my refuge in You and You alone.

Friday: A Timeline

10:30 am: I decide to go to they gym but discover that my already dilapidated sneakers are now cutting into the back of my ankle causing me pain. Realizing I cannot wear these, I decide to go to Olean to get some new sneakers.

Olean is an hour away, so while I'm there I will make a stop at Old Navy, the dry cleaners, and the grocery store. This will take a few hours, so I decide to pick Lauren up from preschool early so I can make it back before the boys get home at 3:00.

10:45: I pick up Lauren and decide to go to Olean via a different route since Lauren's school is in that direction. I have never been this way before.

11:05: Begin to worry that I passed my turn because I don't think it's suppose to be this far out. Can't call anyone because there is, of course, no cell reception. Decide to turn around. Also my "check engine" light comes on. Also it's snowing.

11:10: Finally reach a road/driveway in which to turn around.

11:35: Get back into town and decide to trade cars with David since I don't know why my check engine light is on. And it's snowing.

11:40: Finish transferring Lauren, Lauren's carseat, and the bags of laundry for the dry cleaner to David's car. In the snow. Turn on David's car to discover he has no gas. Since I remember him telling me on MONDAY that he had no gas, I know he must REALLY have no gas.

11:50: Finish pumping gas.

11:53: Pull through McDonald's to get a drink for my daughter who has been whining about being thirsty since I picked her up over an hour ago.

11:55: Leave McDonald's and head to Olean the way I know.

12:03: Lauren begins crying that she "weally has to go potty!"

12:10: Stop at our church so Lauren can use the bathroom.

12:15: Get in car and head home because I no longer have time to get to Olean, do all I need to do, and get back before the boys get home.

Tell me again why anyone would choose to live an hour away from Walmart.

7 Quick Takes Friday

1.

Lauren has been curious lately about where she was before she was born. She's got this idea in her head that she was in heaven all by herself, which she does not like because she says she would be scared all by herself.

I've explained to her that I have no idea where we were (if anywhere) before we're born but that maybe she's right and she was in heaven with God. Today she came to me out of nowhere with a very pouty look on her face and said, "Mommy, when I was in heaven with God, I didn't get to see how tall he was."

The things my kids can find to complain about.

2.

Last weekend I saw a sign in front of a restaurant in Harrisburg that left me baffled. I spent miles perplexedly pondering its meaning. It said, "Beer to go. Draft or six-pack."

I know, it sounds just like the kind of thing that would leave you deep in thought for half an hour, too, right?

But really, I've never seen a sign for beer to go before. Draft beer. How do they do that? Surely a cup with just a lid would violate open container laws. Do they put it in a bottle? That would sort of defeat the purpose of it being draft, wouldn't it? I was tempted to go in and order some just to satisfy my curiosity so I could stop wasting precious brain cells thinking about this.

Anyone know how this works?

3.

Here's what our yard looked like yesterday.



Here's what it looks like today:



Remember what my mountain looked like one week ago?



Here's what it looks like today:



So much for Fall.

4.

So glad I bought snow gear in Harrisburg last weekend! I really thought I was being supermom and buying things way ahead of time. That's so unlike me that I should have suspected something was amiss.

5.

Apparently October is Fire Safety Month. All of my kids have come home this week with some sort of fire related homework assignment. Count how many smoke detectors and fire extinguishers we have. Test the batteries. Have a fire drill.

Lauren's preschool sent home a note letting us know that there will be firemen and a fire truck at her school on Friday. When I told Lauren about it, she said, "I hope he doesn't spray me with fire!" "Lauren, firemen don't spray fire. Remember what comes out of their hoses?" "Yes," she replied, "Water. Then it turns into fire, right?"

I'm thinking fire safety month is going to be a bit lost on her.

6.

I suppose once the snow melts we really should get around to raking the hundred million leaves that are currently covering our yard and sidewalk. Somehow it just doesn't seem right that it could be covered in snow before we've even had a chance to rake the leaves.

Interesting tinytown trivia: There is no city trash pickup here. You're on your own for finding a way to dispose of your garbage. But, leaves . . . those the city will pick up for you. Drive around right now, and you'll see piles and piles of leaves on the curb just waiting to be picked up.

What kind of place picks up your leaves for you but not your stinkin' trash?!

7.

The bad thing about winter is that it requires covering up



all one's cute clothes.



Check out more Quick Takes at Conversion Diary.