Achilles Heel

I love running.

OK, I'm not actually a big fan of running while I'm running, but when I stop, I love that I do it. I love that I CAN do it. I love how I feel, I love the strength it gives me.

Lately, I've been experiencing some pain in my calf. Not a severe pain, but in the morning it's tough to walk at first. It's stiffness, really. I have been blaming new shoes, ones with more of a heel than I usually have.

The other night I was rubbing my foot when I found a lump. It was right there on the back of my leg, the lower part of my calf. And even though it was small, it was a definite lump. I even checked my other leg to see if maybe this wasn't the way my leg was actually shaped and I'd just never noticed before. But not, it was only on this one leg. It didn't hurt when I rubbed it. Well, it hurt when I rubbed it too hard.

I showed Steve, who said "Yeah, it's a lump on your tendon."

THAT was the word I'd been looking for. Tendon. I had forgotten about tendons.

And the next morning I woke and ran, and the leg hurt just a little, but then it felt better so I kept going. But the lump was still there, so I looked it up on the internet.

I think I have Achilles Heel. Only they now call it "Achilles tendonitis." Usually there is no specific moment when people get this.It can be caused by an increase in miles or incline or by not stretching. There can be a lump on the tendon. I figured I don't have the chronic version, only the less severe kind. But if I don't try and fix it, it'll become chronic. Which is more serious and hurts all the time. I don't want that. Especially since the article I was readin talked a lot about the surgery one could get to fix the chronic tendonitis. It even had pictures.

At least I have an excuse for not running for awhile.

I just need to find an alternative. I've decided to try and do a little yoga - I used to do it, but stopped because of time. Maybe after while I can start something else? I'll get a bike in the spring, but.... I need something NOW!

Round 'n Round

It is the Tuesday before Christmas. I have a lot of things to do today.

I have four loads of laundry that are clean, but not folded, and gathering more wrinkles my the minute. I have gifts to wrap and deliver. The dishwasher is full of clean dishes. The Sink is full of dirty dishes.

Today is the day I plan on handing out holiday gifts to teachers. I have chosen to day because it is the last day of gymnastics class and piano lessons. I am explaining to the boys that I am going to bundle up the Christmas cookies and deliver them to the children's librarians (who are very nice and set aside books for my boys frequently) when Nathan shakes his head.

"You better go to the library without me, Mom."

"Why?" I ask.

"Because I just threw up in the bathroom."

This changes everything. And not in a good way. Nathan seems fine. He's playing and happy. But he just puked. So I decide to let him stay home. I bundle up the cookies anyway and think that maybe I'll deliver them later. I leave Nate with Steve and drag Andy off to his gymnastics class. We arrive five minutes late, but deliver the gift to his teacher without a hitch.

This will be the easiest thing I do all day.

When I get home Steve is in some sort of tizzy. He is on a call, and manages to shout some sort of information about me needing to go pick Nick up from school and also to charge my cell phone. When I ask what's wrong with Nick, he just looks irritated, shouts something about them needing him out of there and him being really busy on the phone, and I take off to remove Nick.

At the school, it turns out Nick isn't throwing up, as I imagined. He also is not running a fever and he does not have any broken bones. He has a headache, and is complaining of not feeling well. If I had taken the call fromt eh nurse, I would have pushed back, because this is not a sick child. This is a tired child, and maybe a reluctant-to-be-at-school child, but he is not ill. The cough they mention sounds very purposeful to me.

But I bring him home.

So not I have al of the work to do AND three boys at home. They need lunch. They are all happily playing in the living room. No one would guess that two of them are sick.

I start to panic because I have to fold so much laundry, and the hampers are also all full upstairs - Nate has no pants in his drawer. I HAVE to do laundry. And make beef stew, because that's what's for dinner, and the vegetable drawer is full f parsnips because we keep getting them every week from the CSA and we never eat them because, let's face it, they don't taste that good. But today is pick-up day.

And should I take the boys to afternoon activities? Usually the rule is, no school, no fun activities. I would like to skip karate, but then what about piano? It's the last lesson for two weeks. And we have her little gift. Maybe we'll just skip karate and go to piano. But I have to go to the little plaza anyway to pick up the veggies from the CSA and the dry-cleaning.

And this is the game I call "Round 'n Round." I'll take them. I won't take them. We'll go to piano but not karate. I'll jus stay home and cook and fold laundry - I need the time. What should I do? What is the right thing?

I still don't know.

Mommy = Pack Mule

As part of our pre-Christmas holiday festivities, we are usually invited to Steve's Uncle's house for a Holiday get together. This year it was on a Sunday, and because it didn't quite make sense to go back home, we left for the party right after church.

Almost as soon as we got in the car, Nicholas asked me to hand him his 3DS. We don't let the boys play them at church, even before the service, during the choir rehearsal, but since Steve's uncle lives an hour away we told them they could play the things in the car.

Only I didn't remember Nick giving me his 3DS. "Are you sure you gave it to me?" I asked. "Because I'm looking in my bag and it isn't in here." Nope, I definitely did not have Nick's 3DS. Nick began to cry, sudden;y faced with two long car rides and NOTHING TO DO.

And I got irritated. Lets forget my kid's over-reaction, just for a moment. Forget the hours I spend in the backseat of a car squabbling with four siblings over one walkman and the 2 tapes we had (Billboard's hits of the 50's and REM's Green). Let's pretend Nick just shrugged his shoulders and then stared out the window for the whole ride.

Why the heck should I have his stupid DS?

Getting into the car from church, I had been carrying 4 coats - mine, and one for each child. I had three plastic bag of items from the Holiday Sale - one for each child. I had a small paper plate with a decorated gingerbread man cookie on it - the icing was still wet. I had a small paper plate with a painted candy cane ornament on it - the paint was still wet. I had a paper Santa beard with cotton balls glued all over it - the glue was kind of still wet. I also had my own bag with my wallet and my choir music.

See, my kids think it's OK to just hand me stuff. I'm supposed to be some sort of octopus, I guess, because I simply don't have that many arms. When I try and slow them down and explain that I can't carry this stuff - especially when we're at church or a party with other things and people to distract them - I can't even get them to look at me. It's infuriatingly obvious that they don't hear a word I'm saying, even though every other adult in a mile radius can hear me perfectly.

Even getting into the car that morning was a trial. I got my choir bag. And my coat. Then we have to remind the kids to wear coats, because they don't seem to realize it's winter. Then I had to bring the special "guest" box the church handed out before Thanksgiving. I grabbed my phone. Steve called out "Don't forget the GPS and the address" and I also remember I meant to bring a book for Steve's cousin. And the little boys are asking for snacks for the ride down - can I bring a candy cane? Can I bring this chocolate covered graham cracker?

I had so much to bring that I left a whole stack of things on the table. My phone, the book, the address (which I remembered anyway) and, of course, Nick's 3DS.

From now on I'm putting my foot down. Not Responsible.


This is, apparently, how Steve operates. He took the boys to Karate on Friday, and no one quite remembers where Nick's winter coat is. He's been wearing Nathan's. Good thing we have an extra.

It's Not Stolen... It's Put Away

(words from this post are taken directly from Dr. Suess's The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. Only out of order and with a few changed pronouns. Also, I added a few lines so that it changes the context. If you haven;t read this book, then you should crawl out from under the rock you're living under and go and read it. It's cute. The movie has very little to do with it.)

It came without ribbons! It came without tags!

It came without packages, boxes or bags!

OK, I admit, it came with a few

Of the Who-sits, and What-sits, and thing-a-bobs, too.

A few weeks ago I determined to stop it.

Any more toys in this house would just... pop it.

Maybe Christmas - I thought - doesn't come from a store.

Maybe Christmas... perhaps... means a little bit more!

And despite all my efforts, we got all the junk

and the stuff and the things Santa sent us, The Punk.

A less stubborn person than I might be sad

But I'm going to enjoy this holiday. Too bad!

We have so much to be grateful for

And I'm going to stop lest I become a bore.

I HADN'T stopped Christmas from coming!

IT CAME!

Somehow or other, it came just the same!

Wishing everyone a Very Merry Day, full of Peace, Joy, Hope, and Love.

And music and cake.

The Day Before Christmas

I forgot to post yesterday. The day just got away from me. But I do have a lot to say. A LOT!

First of all, we decorated a gingerbread house and a gingerbread train. These pre-fab things are more complicated than they look. I always have the worst time getting the things to actually stand up. I had to use a box inside the house and alphabet blocks for the trains. One got stuck in the train. You can kind of see it in the picture if you look. Also, this is the first year that, after constructing the frames, I let the boys decorate all by themselves. Thoughts?

This year I made the boys buy their own presents. Not the ones they GET, the ones they give. So you may be getting some... er... pretty odd things. They did most of their shopping at the Church Holiday Sale, where the Youth Group set up tables of donate items, sell them for very reasonable prices, and the proceeds go to something... heat relief or hunger or something. I donated a basket full of items. Half of these items my kids purchased back.

Many of the gifts are already under the tree. These are gifts from my sister Emily and gifts the boys are giving. It reminds me of being a kid - days before Christmas it looks like Santa has already been here.

Finally, I heard a new holiday song yesterday. It's The 12 Days of Christmas. I KNOW! How awful. There are only 3 billion versions of this song. But this one is different. First off, it's The Boston Pops, and it's just so very different. I tried to find it on iTunes, but I couldn't. The version there was this boring John Williams one. This is a new one. It's really funny! Especially if you're a music lover. I had to go to the BSO site and download it, but maybe there's a different way to give it a listen.

I'll post tomorrow to give an official Merry Christmas, but just in case you won't check in.... Merry Christmas to All!

Schedule - Ho Ho Ho!

Yesterday was Polar Express day for Nate. Today is Polar Express day for Nick. They are both going to school in PJ's. But Nick has gym so needs sneakers and both boys need to turn in their library books.

Andy has no school today, but has gone off shopping with Steve.

Today I will clean the house, take the cat to the vet (again!) and this afternoon the boys will put together 1 gingerbread house and 1 gingerbread train, and Steve will take Nick to get his hair cut. And then tonight I will make raviolis for dinner and then we will watch the end of The Grinch.

The End! Hope your days is fine, too!

Not Done Yet

I'm almost done. But every time I think I am, I remember one thing I forgot to do, one person I forgot to cover...

It's really annoying because the joy and fun of it is gone now. And getting out of the house is getting harder and harder.

Christmas Cookies

Every year I decide to make Christmas cookies.

Now, I am not actually Martha Stewart, or a cray person. When I was in high school, Larissa and I would make platters of cookies for people as gifts for the holidays, and every single years the madeleins had me in tears. I do not have the patience or the time for complicated projects. Instead, I go simple. Sugar cookies. Made by my favorite Dough Boy.

You would think that, since all I have to do is roll out the dough and bake it, the cookies would be simple. This is what I think. Every Single Year.

And for awhile, the cookies actually DO look fabulous. We have all sorts of cookie cutters, and I use them all. We have hearts and stars and snowflakes, trains and candy canes, Santas and trees. The first sheet of cookies is a wonder!

Until I put them in the oven.

Because THIS is when the cookies decide to puff up to three times their original size. That first sheet of cookies went from intricate and delicate designs to... well, to blobs of cookies. Everything looked like a blob.



This put me in a difficult position yesterday, when I was making a few cookies to give as gifts. Complicated cookies can look messy because they are complicated and require time and effort. Dough Boy sugar cookies are not allowed to look messy. They must look nice.

I managed to separate out a few cookies that looked like flowers, and a few gingerbread men that looked more or less like... obese gingerbread men. And instead of stories last night, I sat the boys down at the kitchen table and opened a little cookie-decorating sweatshop. For one half-hour the boys dabbed sugar icing on cookies with paintbrushes and poured sprinkles on a few sugary cookie-men victims. They look just fine, and now I am happy to give them away as tokens of thanks.

Elf My Kids

... OK, so it sometimes gets old. But I have to do it, or it isn't Christmas.

Christmas Gifts

I read a yahoo article the other day which had an interesting statistic. It said that twice the amount of money was spend at Christmas than it would take to give the entire world access to clean water. How awful IS that?

It's true, when it comes to giving to organizations that provide clean water or food, or whatever, we tend to tighten our pursestrings. And when it comes to Christmas, we tend to spend more than we need. We HAVE to give things to people. And now, even as I'm wrapping the gifts I've bought, I wonder what I was thinking. Will these people actually LIKE this stuff? UGH!

It's a real argument for home-made and charitable gifts. Which I plan on doing NEXT year.

Unless I get carried away again.

There is something I'm rather proud of, though.

It took me 18 months to make, (I stopped working on it for a few months) but still, I'm proud. The top piecing is made of the legs of jeans that were turned into cut-offs, one of Steve's old shirts, my favorite sheet set that got ruined with chewing gum, and some left-over fabric scraps. The batting is made of recycle plastic bottles. I'm less happy with the flip side, but doing this project I learned something about how to make the next one. I gave it to Andy for his birthday. Thoughts? Feedback?

Happy 4th Birthday Andrew

In honor of his 4th birthday, here is an Andrew story:

Last night I dragged out "Go Dog GO" for Nate to read to me.

That book is a great book. Not for the plot, which is fairly contrived, but for the prose. "Two Dogs, In a House, On a Boat, In the water." Pure genius, I tell you.

But I really love that book. I used to read it to Nick all the time, but when they started reading to me it got set aside. I couldn't remember ever having read it to Andrew before.

My favorite part is the part where all fifty seven dogs are asleep. "Now it is night. It is time for sleep. It is not a time for play." (I'm quoting from memory, here, so please don't get angry or upset if I remember things a little differently.) All fifty seven dogs are in the same big, long bed. And they are all asleep except one, who is wide awake.

The next page: "Now it is Day! Get up, Dogs! It is time to get going! Go, Dogs, Go!" And all fifty seven dogs are sprinting for the door in a mad frenzy, except the one dog still asleep in bed, probably because he was awake all night.

The next page has "Dogs in Cars again." And "Where are they going so fast in those cars? What are they going to do?" I usually pause here, because the book is finally starting to take shape and round itself out in terms of plot, meaning that there will be more than three pages actually related to each other.

"Where are they going?" I asked the boys. I expect them to know, because we've read the book before. Also, it turns out they are going to A DOG PARTY, which is just so exciting that my little childhood mind could never take it. No party in my life was ever as fun as that dog party looked to be. Only then I remembered that Andrew didn't remember reading the book. "Do you know where they are going, Andy?"

"Yup." He said, unimpressed.

"Where?" I asked, thinking that maybe he remembered the book after all. "Where are they going?"

"To Breakfast," he said.

As if this wasn't enough, when the dogs were climbing "To the tree! To the tree! To the top of the tree!" (the secret party location) I paused again. "What's up there, Andy?"

Andy's chin was in his hands. He didn't even look up. "Leaves."

Happy 4th Birthday, Andrew. We all love you very much.

Ho Ho Ho

OK - I LIKE some of the bad or cheesy holiday movies out there. Even though they are played non-stop on TV.

I like Fred Claus.

I like Elf.

I even like Scrooged!

They are really good to have on when wrapping mountains of gifts.

Classics

Have you ever noticed how many versions of "12 Days of Christmas" there are out there? About a billion. And still people get confused about who is dancing, who is leaping, and which type of bird is which.

And Holiday specials are the same. Yes, there are some really good ones, but there are also so many stupid ones out there.

This year Andrew has discovered a book called "The Night Before Christmas." Also known as "A Visit From St. Nicholas," it was written in 1823, attributed to a Clement Clarke Moore, and is generally responsible for the way we think about Santa Claus to this very day. The version we have is This Papercut Edition, which is just beautiful and classic.

Andy also picked out some holiday music at the library. I was directing him towards something a little more modern, but he chose The Nutcracker. I think he thought it had something to do with drums, based on the cover. We've listened to it three times in the car. Composer: Tchaikovsky. As a ballet, it was not successful. Not at first. But the music caught on.

I know it's just a phase. Next year he'll be begging for the dogs barking jingle bells, I know it!

Santa Visit 2011

It's not the formal shot, it's the one I took. I just figured I wouldn't have time to scan a print in. And yes, I know Nate is looking under the little tree there, but the other shot I got was blurry and Nick was making a funny face, so...

In the morning I made them all wear nice shirts. By the time I picked them up from school the shirts were covered in sticky and paint.

Oh, well.

And To Bed

It's not that I don't have anything to say.

In fact, I have quite a bit to say.

I want to write about how, now that I'm crazy busy, I'm somehow not feeling as socially challenged as I usually do.

I want to write about the so called "War on Christmas" and that post on the single Dad blog "I'm a Christian, Unless You're Gay" and how the two are connected.

I want to write about the party favors for Andrew's Birthday Party. And how I'm a liberal in a mostly 'publican town. And how we have half a frozen cow in our freezer.

I want to share holiday joy and cheer!

But I am too tired right now to make the attempt to form a post or write anything coherent. Again. At least you now know what I would be talking about if I were actually talking.

It's Christmas Kinda!

Hooray we put up our tree!

We also decorated it. And we got a wreath and decorated IT. And I put up the stockings and all the little chinchy things that are holiday oriented.

And I have almost almost completed my holiday shopping - I have a few more things to purchase, but I have lists made for most of it, and only four more gifts to figure out.

Then I can start wrapping.

Oh, I also have to get Andy something for his birthday. Not his big gift, just a couple of little things.

And we have to visit Santa. The Festival Of Trees Santa didn't count. I want the mall Santa so I can get the picture. OH! I also put out the framed photos of our visits with the same Santa ever since Nick was a year old!

I've also started my holiday cards!

Despite my still-very-long to-do list, I feel very good about how much I've accomplished today. I'm hoping I can get stuff done tomorrow, too. The challenge is keeping my cool. By the end of the day I started getting pretty irritated and little boys leaving shoes in odd places and yelling "Mo-ohm!"

I just have to remember that afterwards, when it is all done, baked, wrapped and bowed, I will be able to sit by the fire with a glass of wine and three dozen sugar cookies.

Breathe

There is so much to do I absolutely cannot stand it.

In fact, there is so much to do that I started out this post making a list of those things, but I kept thinking of things. The list got so long, and I started to hyperventilate and panic. So I stopped listing.

It wouldn't be so very bad, actually. I enjoy a challenge. Sometimes. I survived the Strawberry Fiasco. I can go from 5:30 to 8:30 without a major disaster and only an hour-long nap. I should be able to find time to shop, wrap, hide gifts, decorate, and bake, while also attending holiday concerts and parties, sending cookies in for parties, arranging playdates, and going to special holiday events. It's just doing this while maintaining a stable day to day schedule, making sure the boys are fed and do their homework, making sure little snoops don't find hidden hidden items... taking the cat to the vet, keeping frank from eating puck's food, cleaning up yet another bowl of grapes that puck knocked to the ground and shattered all over our floor....

I should find time for some meditating. Only I can't. The whole time I'd be thinking of the holiday cards I should be addressing.

See, some people are good at managing these things. I am not. I really do need to run around like a headless chicken until everything is done. And it WILL get done.

And now I'm going to go do it.

Festival Of Trees!

Every year we visit the Festival Of Trees! These photos might make it look a little overwhelming. That's because it IS a little overwhelming. But it's fun. We didn't win a tree, but the fun is in the looking. I didn't get a picture of the hot pink tree Nick was hoping we would win, but if we HAD won it, we would have had to take it home.

There's always next year!

Seasonal Power Outage

This morning, after my alarm went off, I made the choice not to go running. I had a late choir rehearsal last night, and I wanted to get a little more sleep before I started my day. This isn't an easy choice to make, as I sometimes don't fall asleep after the alarm wakes me, and even if I do, I sometimes spend the day wishing I had taken the time to work out.

Five minutes after I turned off my snooze, I hear the dreaded blip that signifies NO POWER. We've had rain for the past few days, and last night the wind picked up. Apparently it was enough to somehow take out a power line.

Maybe it's just me, but I am now unable to not over-react to this sort of thing. In the past, a power outage would mean a few hours in the dark. But these days, each time the power goes out I start out assuming we'll be out for days. I started taking inventory in my mind. Where were the flashlights? Did they have batteries? How long would puck's insulin last in the fridge? Would there be school? How would I find out if there was school without TV or the internet? Should I wake Steve and get him to start the generator? Would the power be back when we put up the tree? Would the power be back in time for Andrew's birthday party? What if it was back for the party but not back in time for me to clean the house? Should I cancel?

I heard the boys wake up. I heard them scramble around and then make a group trip to the bathroom, Andy lighting the way with the Lego-Man Lantern. This is when I got up. I rescued a couple of flashlights and replaced batteries in one. I lit a couple of candles and gave the boys some cereal. I fed the pets and gave puck his medication.

And then the power came back on.

I feel as though my day has brightened already! Even though it's still windy and rainy.

Name That Vegetable!

And now, another exciting episode of.... NAME THAT VEGETABLE!

Brought to you by my friendly CSA, a constant source of organic farming, planet friendliness, guilt-free nutrition, and new information.

I, for one, had no idea they grew this way.

Insane Moments

Every so often I catch myself in moments so absurd, I can't even stand thinking about them. Not all of these involve my children directly, although many of them include convoluted conversation topic and me asking children to do things I never, ever thought I would have to ask anyone to do. Such as "Please do not step on your brother's face," or "Please do not put your stuffed animals in the microwave / fridge / oven / toilet."

Today I had one of these moments.

Things were going so smoothly. Nick and Nate made the bus with very little waiting. I had time to put a load of laundry in the washer before leaving the house to take Andrew to school, and I had remembered to bring a book with me, so I could go right to the dentist's office to have my tooth drilled and filled.

As I dropped Andrew off at his classroom, smiling and explaining how he got the huge scratch right under his eye (Nathan ran into him, fingernail first), I saw another parent walk in with a tray of cookies. It was then I remembered that today was December Birthday Day! The day they celebrate all December birthdays in the class. Andrew has a December birthday. And as his parent, I was asked to bring in sliced strawberries.

The request was specific. They sent home a note asking for sliced strawberries, specifically. Enough for 15 children. I had no problem with this. I took the note home and placed it on my fridge. I remembered about it on Friday, when I was at the grocery store, but I didn't want the strawberries to sit around for days and get all yucky - fruit goes bad around here pretty quickly. And then I forgot about it.

Again, this is the moment where a person needs to make a decision. Especially if they have 30 minutes to a dentist appointment. Most people, normal, sane people, would probably just have apologized and moved on with their day. But I am nor normal or sane. "I CAN DO THIS!"

I rushed out the door and to the nearest grocery store. I parked the car and ran in, not even bothering to take my glasses off. I grabbed three containers of strawberries, a kitchen utility knife, a large bottle of water, and a large tupperware bin. I scanned the items myself and stormed out to the car.

I opened the sliding side door and used some of the water to rinse the tupperware. I opened the knife and the strawberries and rinsed them. Then I used the top of the tupperware as a cutting board and sliced two of the three containers of strawberries. In the parking lot of the grocery store. Half in and half out of my car. THIS was my moment. It was unique. I must have looked certifiable.

I made it, though. I dropped the strawberries off and then rushed back to the dentist, which is actually right near the grocery store. It took less than 30 minutes for the dentist to fix my cavity.

The end.

Dropped Ball

It's 5:34 am.

I got up to run before the kids wake up.

And I just realized I didn't write anything for today's post.

Nothing comes to mind, either. At 9am I'm getting a cavity filled. I never used to get cavities, and now I get one every year. Yuck. This will be my fourth.

That's it. Nothing holiday oriented. Nothing cheery. Just.... tooth and drill.

That's why I forgot to write anything interesting.

Sunday Stories

We were sitting eating dinner when I realized that I had never seen Nick throw away his chewing gum.

I'm not in the habit of handing out gum, but Nick's friend at karate had given him a gumball, so what could I do?

"Nick, where is your gum? Did you swallow it?"

Nick didn't say anything. He just shrugged and shook his head No.

"It's OK if you swallowed it. It's not great, but you won't get into trouble or anything."

"I didn't swallow it," Nick insisted.

"Well then did you throw it out?"

"No, I didn't throw it out."

You're probably wondering why I cared so much to continue this line of questioning. Keep reading.

"Well then what happened to your gum?"

"It kind of fell out of my mouth."

"It fell? Where? How?"

"I was just opening my mouth, and the gum feel right out."

"Did you pick it up?"

"No. I couldn't find it."

"So there is gum somewhere in the car, a chewed wad of gum, on the seat or on the floor?"

The boys all look at me blankly.

"Guys, you can't have gum just sitting in the car! Someone will sit on it or step it in, and it won't come out!"

Something must have impressed them, because both Nick and Nate checked the soles of their shoes. "Don't worry, Mom. We didn't step on anything."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I was chatting with another karate mother at the coffee shop. She was telling me about how she had to stop drinking coffee because the caffeine kept her up at night.

She got up to get a cup of decaf, and her daughter started talking. This is a little girl we have known for over a year, but recently she has warmed up to us. I know this because she's gone from a quiet, shy little girl to a chatty, funny, inquiring child.

"My mom hasn't had coffe in a year!" She started. "She mostly just drinks a lots and lots of iced tea."

"Well, iced tea will keep her awake, too, if she drinks too much of it."

"Well, she used to drink it all the time, every day, iced tea, all the time. But she doesn't drink so much of it anymore," said the girl.

I shrugged. "Maybe she was drinking it in the summer. It's a great summer drink because it's cool."

"Yeah," she said. "She used to drink it all the time. But now she just drinks wine."

"Me too!" I said.

Fitting It In

I really want to see this movie!

It seems simple, really. Place the children in the car, drive to the movie, purchase tickets and popcorn, enjoy film!

But there's so much more to it.

Actually there isn't. It would be very easy to just do that. It's just that there are also so many OTHER things I have to do, also. And doing one thing means I'm neglecting thirteen others.

Our schedule is pretty full on a day to day basis. We have school and karate lessons. On weekends we have church on Sundays. We have birthday parties to go to and a birthday party to throw. The party at our house means I need to restore some sort of order to the belongings that seem to appear in odd places all over our home. In the meantime I need to shop for a number of people, and many of those people are stubbornly difficult to shop for and refuse to forward me any kind of a wish list.

I'm kind of flying by the seat of my pants, here.

All of this business, all of the craziness and the to-do listing, only makes me more determined to take the boys to see the movie. WHY? you ask. BECAUSE, I reply, this time of year shouldn't be about the billion things we have to do. It should be about the time we spend with people we love.

So There!

Darkened Windows

One of the things I love most about the holiday season is the decorations.

No, not the tacky, blow-up, blinky light kind of decorations. I prefer the white lights, the green branches, and colorful ribbons. Just yesterday I finally dragged my boxes of decorations out from the basement, and set up the electric candles in the windows.

This is a lot more difficult than it sounds. See, these candles have these itty-bitty bulbs, and when they burn out it is almost impossible to find a replacement. Also, the candles themselves are very light - lighter than the electric cords that plug them in. In many cases, the cords pull the candles right off the windowsills. I used masking tape to stick them in place.

I also told the boys that, yes, they were exciting and lovely, but that they were strictly off limits. No touching! In fact, if the boys played with the candles and broke them, then I would have to take them all down.

Two hours later... yup. Steve informed me that two of our children had been playing with the candles and had broken one of the bulbs.

And HERE, at THIS point, is what you call a crossroads. This is one of those moments when a parent can make one of two choices. One is right, and one is wrong. Or one is over-reacting, and the other is giving in. Or one is being ruled by your kids, and the other is actually letting them walk all over you.... There are actually many ways of looking at it, but in fact, I could either take the candles down, or go back on my word and leave them up.

I paused. I didn't WANT to take the candles down. I wanted to leave them up. And I frantically searched my brain for some way I could just keep them. But then Steve, who had been unaware of my previous ultimatum, announced that, in HIS opinion, we should not have the electric candles this year at all.

I would like to say I was immediately motivated by the right thing, but the truth is, I was fairly reactive as I stormed off to unplug the electric candles, ball up the cords, and place them back in the huge holiday storage box. But I wasn't. I was, actually, really mad at Steve. "Fine!" I shouted as I stomped up the stairs, acting like a child myself.

This will show him! I thought to myself. Only then I thought, show him what, exactly? Because Steve doesn't care about the candles. In fact, they are kind of a bother. I rush around and turn them on as soon as it gets a little dark, and I refuse to let anyone turn them off until we go to sleep. The kids are always playing with them. Bulbs are always burning out. Pets knock them over...

And after all, this is exactly what I said I was going to do. Remember that audiobook I got from the library, Scream-Free Parenting? It wasn't the most revolutionary parenting book I have ever heard, but it had quite a few really good points. I like to think that parenting books are mostly full of thing you already know, but don't think about in the right context. This book says, and I'm paraphrasing here: we should keep the promises we make to our children.

ALL promises. Promised you a puppy when you turned twelve? Woof! Said I would take your bike to Goodwill if you left it in the driveway? Goodbye bike. And in this case, I told my kids they needed to not play with the electric candles, or they would be removed. So, they would be.

Of course, I was really upset about it. And the boys didn't seem to care. Neither did Steve. In fact, I thought, the only one being punished was me! I tried to turn this around into a reason I could keep the lights up, but in the end I took them down anyway.

I drove off to choir grumbling and fuming.

The worst part was, I just didn't know why I was so upset. These were stupid window candles!

It wasn't until three hours later, after choir, driving home, that I figured it out.

When the candles are on at night, our home looks warm and inviting. You can't see the dry lawn in the front, or the fact the backyard was only mowed once this summer. You can't see the plastic toys scattered in the bushes, or the leaves we never raked up. The house looks, for a little while, like any other home in the neighborhood. It looks relaxing and cheery. You'd never know the floor inside was scattered with toys and socks and checkers from connect 4 games.

Once I figured it out, I wasn't really bothered by it all that much anymore. The reason just seemed so stupid. Instead I found this huge paper chain we made last year and slung it up in the dining room. I had kept the school holiday projects the boys made last year, and I hung those up. It's going to be OK. I think I did the right thing (even though my motivation was unclear.)

And there's always next year!

Holiday Decorating

It's December. It's officially time to decorate!

The main Holiday Decoration in our home is, apparently, dust. At least that's what it seems to be. All of the junk I dragged out of the basement is covered with it.

I have also done a little Holiday Reorganizing on this blog.

I have added a list of links over to the left. The Holiday Cheer links are to music, books, and movies that might add a little something to your holiday season. So far, there are only a couple of things there, and they are the same old things I talk about every single year. But maybe there will be new things, new exciting things! So keep looking.

The Holidays Past links are links to older posts on this blog. I went through the posts I wrote in December, and these are what I thought were the very best, or at least most interesting, holiday posts. There are a couple of videos. The boys are so so young. I cried. Now I dare you to not go look at them.

Also, if you're wondering what to get us for Christmas, but missed that post, the link is up top. But I have a feeling most people are going to give us socks. That's OK, though. We love socks!

Read To Your Bunny

There is a book called "Read To Your Bunny," about how you are supposed to read to your bunny - I mean kid - I mean CHILD - twenty minutes a day.

It is written by Rosemary Wells. She has written many many children's books, including the Max and Ruby books, the Yoko books, and the McDuff books.

And speaking of McDuff, today's Holiday Cheer is a McDuff book! It's McDuff's New Friend, and it's a Christmas book. I find it very sweet. If you see it, pick it up and give it a read! It will not take you twenty minutes.

Thanksgiving - Recap

Before going off on the approach of Christmas and all that, I first should talk about Thanksgiving.

Our Thanksgiving was wonderful. It was busy and crazy, full of family. We had too much wine, too much pie, too many leftovers. We did the circus, the museum, and the Muppets.

I sometimes make a big deal about bring grateful, weeks before it's actually Thanksgiving day. I think the reason we do Thanksgiving is because we sometimes need a reminder of just how much we have to be thankful FOR, crazy families and extra pies included.

The Holiday Season!

I honestly didn't mean to leave our Christmas list up all weekend. I had some crazy idea I was going to be able to post from New York, that I would share photographs of our Thanksgiving while it was still happening.

Of course this didn't happen.

Now we are home, and I spent this afternoon fussing and putting things in order, getting the boys to practice piano and finish homework, getting us back to normal.

Except it isn't normal.

Because it's THE HOLIDAYS!!!! YES! They are HERE!

And I am really really hoping I can get it together and share some of my favorite holiday things with you this year. Books, Music, Movies, Traditions, Baking Tips, Dogs Barking Jingle Bells, Everything! It'll be GRAND!

Letter To Santa

Dear Santa

Here we are, the day after Thanksgiving already! I have to admit, this year the Turkey Holiday took me a little by surprise. It seems like only a couple of weeks ago we were trick-or-treating... That's what happens when they bump Halloween back to early November.

In any case, you are probably further along in your holiday shopping than I am in mine. (Everyone on my list is getting a peppermint pig and a small box of chocolates.) But in the event that you are still looking for ideas for any of us, I am sending you our christmas lists.

The Boys:

(If you will let me know what you are giving the boys and/or Steve, I will try and update this list, crossing out or noting when a specific item is purchased by any one of Santa's Elves.)

Santa, the boys have enough toys. They really and truly do. In fact, they have so many toys that I confiscated half of them in late summer, hid them in the closet, and no one ever noticed. I do plan to comb through what they have and thin it out a little, but please keep this in mind as you plan for them.

Please, for the love of all that is holy, no stuffed animals. Also, please nothing too large.

I have been dropping your elves targeted hints which still apply, but I won't mention them here. They love posters and T-shirts. They love books, always. They love PJ's and slippers. The two older boys need pants all of the time. They love trips to the zoo, to the movies, to museums, to amusement parks, etc.

The following are, as usual, only suggestions. They are not requirements. Please do not buy everything on the list. These are the things they have asked for, or might like. They can live without any of it.

Nicholas - age 7

Pants - size 6 (or 6 slim)

Shirt - size 7 or boys small

shoes - size 13.5

Asking for: Pink Doodle Bear, An Easy Bake Oven, Black Angry Bird

Likes or Might Like: Pokemon and Pokemon Cards,

Nathan - age 6 (on Jan. 16)

Pants - size 5 (soon to be size 6.)

Shirt -size 6 or 7 or boys small

shoes - size 12.5

Asking For: Blue Doodle Bear, Imaginext Dinosaurs but NOT the Ankylosaurus, Zombie Brains, Angry Bird Plush Toy

Likes: Pokemon, Dinosaurs, Pirates,

Andrew - Age 4 (on Dec. 17)

Pants - size 4

Shirt - size 4

shoes - size 11

Asking for: Purple Doodle Bear, Remote Control Shark Balloon, Angry Bird Plush Toy

Likes: Space, Submarines

Would do for all three (these are bigger gifts they have requested or would absolutely use and enjoy): This Pirate Ship,

Steve:

I don't know! Santa, Men are a total mystery to me. I simply have no idea what they want or need. Every year I start brainstorming early, but Steve, my brother, and my father are always the last to be checked off my list, because I know I can't buy them what they want and dont' have, which is a ginormous yacht docked in St. Tropez, or for a certain baseball or football team to win a billion straight games. Same goes for Steve. I am married to this man, but when it comes to giving him a gift, I'm at a loss. Here's what I've got: He Needs Good Sturdy Luggage for both short term and long term trips. He likes Steak, Beef Jerky, and designer beers. If you have any ideas, please share them with me! (And maybe I'll share my ideas with you!)

Me:

I am the opposite of Steve. I am really easy to buy gifts for. If you reach into your kitchen cupboard and pull out a canned good, you could wrap it up for me and I would probably be thrilled. Especially if it's a dessert topping.

Seriously, there are a few general no-fail options I have. Chocolates are a big one. I would particularly enjoy some of these. I also really enjoy and constantly drink this line of red teas. I enjoy all kinds of make-up and beauty products, especially shampoos and conditioners. I like Burt's Bees and anything Earth friendly and/or organic. I have always wanted those re-usable drink containers that look like fancier versions of the disposable ones, hot or cold. I likeclothes, dressy clothes, casual clothes, I wear things into the ground. I like the jewelry you have picked out for me in the past. I need a new upright vacuum cleaner - I'd like a dyson, but they are expensive... but I can fix them, so if anyone if getting rid of one... hint hint... And more seriously, I appreciate items people make, poems, mix CDs, drawings, etc. Because I love you, and I appreciate you... uh... Santa!

Grateful

This is the day of Thanks.

This is the day we should express our gratitude for all of the things we have, no matter how small and insignificant it may sound.

This is the day we should keep in our minds and hearts those who have not, who go without.

We shall, of course, take a break for turkey, wine, and pie. Not necessarily in that order.

Scream-Free Parenting

At the Library, I picked up an audiobook called "Scream-Free Parenting."

I haven't had time to listen to it yet, so I can't give my opinion.

All I know is that I almost didn't pick it up. I took a look, stifled a snort, and thought "How the heck would I get the kids to DO ANYTHING?"

Which is, after all, the real reason I ended up picking it up and taking it home. Since I've started listening, I've pinpointed four or five episodes where I was screaming my head off. I know, on an intellectual level, that screaming doesn't really DO anything. But sometimes, like when the bus is coming and your five-year-old is somehow still shoeless and coatless, it just happens. It seems like the only logical response. How else can you light a fire under the kid so that he actually moves his body to get those shoes on?

I'm hoping that I actually learn something from this book, because I think a lot of my feeling bad about myself has to do with feeling grumpy and regretful about parenting mistakes. And by that I mean yelling at my kids. I don't want to be the yelling kind of parent. I want to be the nice, calm parent.

If only it were actually in my nature.

Beet It

This post is going to contain some information that may be too intimate for some people. Sorry about that. I almost didn't write about this for that very reason. But I changed my mind.

A number of weeks ago, I called my OB/GYN's office. "I think I need an appointment." I said. "What seems to be the problem?" the nice lady on the line asked. "I think I have an UTI," I said. "What are your symptoms?" the lady persisted. "Um..." I wasn't sure how to reply. "I'm peeing red"

Yes. Red pee. Pee the color of Kool Aid. Dark red Kool Aid. So shockingly not the right color, that I was immediately sure I was dying, with bloody urine being the main symptom.

But you see, I had no pain. No pain at all, anywhere. Well, a little light cramping, but I feel I can almost always muster up a little light cramping. But maybe it wasn't nothing? Maybe it was something. Maybe it was something serious. Maybe it was serious and had been going along and I just hadn't been feeling it or giving it attention and now I was going to die!

I mentioned my little issue to Steve, who was concerned for me, and who agreed to watch the boys for whenever I could get an appointment. Because peeing red is, or should be, a big red flag on everyone's GO TO THE DOCTOR list.

Am I right so far?

Well, I went to the doctor, and had a frustrating appointment where my urine was checked. It was, by then, ordinary. They did find traces of blood, but nothing unusual. After some quick checking, my trusted doctor told me it was probably a little blood from my cervix that just washed out with the urine flow.

Now, I have been getting my period for over 25 years, give or take a few months for pregnancy / birth control reasons. I know what blood from my cervix is like... I mean, you know. It's not the same as peeing bright red. But the more I tried explaining this to my doctor, the more amused she became.

There was nothing left for me to do but go home and see if anything else happened. And I was worried, and confused, and started to wonder if we really knew anything at all about medicine, or our bodies, or if spontaneous temporary bleeding of internal organs was simply more common than I thought.

Fast forward to a few weeks later.

I'm in bed, reading, and Steve comes out of the bathroom. "I just peed bright red." He said.

And this is when the wheels start turning. Because when one person gets sick after dinner, it's a bug, but when everyone gets sick, it's the food they ate, right?

The food we ate.

You know how, when you eat asparagus, your pee smells funny? Well, this CSA we are members of right now has been giving us shares of beets. Not the canned beets we usually get, but real, organic, beets. At first we got small bunches, but they have been getting increasingly larger. I peel them and chop them up, then roast them with oil and garlic. They are good.

And apparently, they turn your pee bright red. Who knew? If I ate a sugary cereal and this happened I would immediately blame food dyes and chemicals, and then never eat the cereal again. But we are talking about local organic produce, here. I simply never thought this would happen. It seems so odd. Steve thinks it's because I don't peel them enough. I think it's because the canned ones have been sitting in water and vinegar for so long. Whatever the reason, I no longer think it's anything to worry about.

But the next morning, Nick ran into the bathroom as I took a shower, alarmed because his pee was red. I have to say, I'm very glad it happened to me first, because if Nick had been the first one to pee red I really would have FREAKED OUT!

If this is an indicator of anything, it's that, until recently, I was the only one eating the beets.

Pet Problem

Mom, can we get a pet?

I never understood why people thought getting a pet was such a big deal.

Sure, there was walking the dog, or cleaning the litter box. But aside from those things and from feeding the pet, what more was there? Aside from a few minor details.

I've been to the vet three times in the past couple of weeks, and each trip has cost me hundreds of dollars. The next time a child or an insane adult proposes getting a cat, you can show them these numbers:

Vet consult: $40

Blood test: $12 (every two weeks until we figure out the right insulin level)

Insulin: $88 for a small bottle

Special Diabetic Cat Food: $32 for 24 cans (1 can a day)

Thyroid meds: $47 (100 pills - 2 pills a day)

Frontline: $95 for 6 months ($190 with two cats.)

Dog Frontline: $99 for 6 months

Heartworm meds: $47 for 6 months.

Individually, it doesn't look to bad, but when you're about to leave with your kitty and you look at the $500 bill... it can hurt your brain.

Hot Chocolate

Nick and Nate both take karate classes now.

However, because the universe is cruel, or perhaps because it's more fair for little boys, they are not in the same class. Nathan is one of the larger boys in a very small class of five and six year-olds. Nick is easily the smallest boy in a much larger class of rambunctious seven to twelve year-olds.

Both boys have class three times a week. But not at the same time. The one saving grace is that twice a week these classes occur back-to-back.

This means that I must wait during both classes with one or two boys. The Dojo is small, and there is no place I can sit with other children, so I usually take this time to run a few short errands. But as the town is spread out, there are really only a few places, and a limited number of errands I can do. I can run to the very expensive grocery store I hate and pick up a few items. I can mail a package. I can go to the organic food store and pick up my CSA stuff. I can go to the dry cleaners. I can buy a pie.

Usually I sit at the coffee shop and have a cup of coffee.

This has become an expensive habit. I never used to buy coffee - I can make it at home. But I feel odd sitting in a store and not purchasing anything, so I buy a decaf. Then I leave to pick up Nate and drop Nick off, and then we sit down again, and I have another decaf.

I have set up a pre-paid account so that I don't even have any idea how much I'm spending.

When I'm there, I sometimes feel bad when the boys are with me. Other kids order drinks, and my kids started requesting drinks also.

And so I gave in and started ordering them Hot Chocolates.

This was a bad idea.

Do you know what kids wear to karate? Gis. A Gi is, well, a karate outfit. There are tons of them out there, but most of them are WHITE.

You know what can really mess up a white outfit? That's right. Hot Chocolate.

One Saturday, the coffee shop was having a particular problem with it's drink lids. They kept falling off. And both Nick and Nate managed to spill hot chocolate on the front of their gi's.

It took me a few weeks to get around to washing them. I mean, I don't usually wash them, because they are white, and I don't want to accidentally turn them pink. And I don't often do whites. And when I do I often forget about looking in the karate bags. But eventually I did, and although you can still find the spot they spilled if you look, you have to really look.

Four days later we were at the coffee shop. I was chatting with other parents and Nick and Andy were sitting in a gaggle of boys, heads bent over DS machines in some male-bonding activity. I gave the two-minute warning - we're leaving in two minutes. Nick them remembered that he had hot chocolate, which he had hardly touched. And, rushing, he managed to pour in all over the front of his gi. All. Over. The front of his gi. It was a mess.

It was such a mess, that the other boys just stood and looked at him with shock.

One of the parents fetched me napkins, and I blotted as well as I could. I told Nick he could swap go tops with Nate once we were back in the dojo, and we all started packing up.

Except Nick, who then said "but I want to have a few more sips of my hot chocolate."

He took a few very tentative sips while I stood very still and chose not to yell. Then I said, "OK, we're leaving now," and I turned to the door and started walking out.

Nick then remembered that he had to pack up his DS and all his games, which took him another couple of minutes. Then, just as I stepped out the door, he took him almost-full hot chocolate and placed it in the trash.

Because I like spending too much money on hot chocolates simply to increase my laundry load.

True Story

I was giving the boys a bath, and Andy was sitting on the bath mat with me, waiting his turn.

"Mom, what if you had another baby?" he says, patting the dangly part of my stomach.

I can't lie. I experienced a "twinge" closely related to "want." But without hesitation I replied "Well, Andy, I think we're done. I think we have enough kids. What do you think? Would you want another baby around?"

Andy just looked at me.

"Babies are a lot of work," I said. "They cry all the time, and they need their diapers changed all the time, and they are always eating. I couldn't be with you guys as much as I am now. And they sleep all the time, so we'd have to be quiet, and I'd always be yelling 'Quiet! The baby is sleeping!' And we couldn't go to as many fun places, like the museums or the playgrounds, or things like that..."

Andy leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. "Wasn't that nice?" he asked

I nodded. "Yes, it was nice."

Then he made a funny fish face, and leaned forward for another kiss. Amused, I made the fish face back, and we kind of fish-face-kissed.

I giggled. "What was that?"

Without hesitation he replied, "Love."

And then he kissed me again.

For You!

Food Fights

"What's for dinner?"

It seems like such a harmless and non-confrontational question.

But I get very defensive when I hear it.

There's always something wrong with what's for dinner. You can't please everyone, and long ago I stopped trying. But in this house, those un-pleased feel that they need to express themselves with loud and angry screaming, crying, whining, and overall general complaining.

I have never prepared a second meal for any of my children, barring actual illness. You get what you get.

And yet, most nights, the complaining begins before they actually sit down. "I'm not eating THAT!" Nick hates raviolis, or anything with parmesan cheese. Nathan doesn't like tacos or potatos. Nothing can look gross, or be too spicy, or be too bland. It can't be the wrong color - no white pasta sauce. It can't be the wrong shape of pasta - only spaghetti noodles, no rotini or ziti. No soup, ever, unless it's alphabet soup. Nick will eat the beef out of beef stew, but nothing else, and no one else will touch it. Nathan refuses anything green, or potatoes that are not white, peeled, and mashed.

Andrew doesn't complain a lot, but he also doesn't eat very much. I think this is fine. I understand not liking something. We all have things we don't like. But this doesn't need to be shared over and over again during the meal.

Camera Shy

Nathan isn't.

Four Eyes

The glasses look so natural on him. One would hardly guess they were actually mine.

Little Things

I was in a rotten mood when I wrote my last post. I admit, I am still in a place where I am prone to tears and have to fight crawling into bed and pulling the covers over my head. Or eating all of the leftover halloween candy. Or both.

But! There is a big BUT! I'm fine. I really really am. Even though I might cry when I watch "The Sound Of Music: or when I read "In Flanders Field," I usually recover pretty quickly. Most importantly, I can find little moments in between the chaos and frustration to appreciate life.

For example, right now I am in the living room. Light is coming in from the new half-wall we had put in. There are zero toys on the floor. It is peaceful. I have a cup of tea, and a little time to write a few blog posts. This is enough to be happy about right now. This is enough to swing my mood back up to where it belongs.

I Guess That's Why They Call It...

Having a hard time. No particular reason. I've just been down a bit lately. I'm sure the last few days being cloudy has nothing to do with it. I'm sure the drop in the temperature is coincidence. It probably has nothing to do with my cat, or with my over-indulging on pie and halloween candy, or having stopped running for a whole week.

It's just that it's all of those things put together.

Along with not measuring up to my own expectations of what I am supposed to be doing with my life. I can't write. I can't sing. I can't finish any project I start. My house is a mess. I cant catch up on laundry. My kids are wild and crazy, and it is probably my fault because I spoil them and I'm also cold and unattentive. I give them too many sweets and make them meals that are so healthy no one wants to eat them. I let them watch too much TV. I don't read to them enough.

I spend all of my time complaining! Which is why I need to go back to bed. Right now. I'm going to stay there until I'm in a better mood. Even if it means pulling the covers over my head for a week!

Someone better tell the kids.

Fail

I just wrote a post to go along with a video of the boys I took playing "The 99" where Nick was a waiter at the 99, and he was taking orders from a kid's menu we had cluttering up the kitchen.

Only the video turned out to be more than 3 times too large to be uploaded.

It's too bad, really. I had another video of Puck trying to open a cabinet door - the cabinet I now keep the cat food in.

It's frustrating. It means I have to take very quick videos. And I'm not so good at them, anyway.

11/11/11

Make a wish! It's November 11, 2011.

Or 11-11-11.

At 11-11 we all should pause and think happy thoughts.

Never Say Never

My friend Miranda recently had to put her cat down.

It was a very difficult decision for her, I know, and an emotional one for me also. Miranda got her kitty the same day I got Puck, from the same pet store, and for the first year we raised them together, in the same third floor apartment.

But her kitty had many many health issues. I'm not sure what they all were, but there was always something. The cat had problems with his kidney disease and his thyroid. I remembered thinking about how much Miranda was doing for her cat, the time and the expense, and I told myself I would never be able to do anything like that. I mean, who gives their cats injections? You'd have to be a little crazy. It's a cat.

Ahem.

So, recently Puck has started acting like a lunatic. I'm not sure when it started, exactly, but one day Steve commented on how Puck was always on the counter, always knocking things to the floor, always underfoot or sticking his head into used dishes. Puck has never been a very agressive cat, and even though he would do all of these things on occasion, he was now doing them ALL THE TIME, and not even trying to be sneaky about it anymore. When I was cooking I couldn't measure yogurt or milk out ahead of time. I couldn't place butter on the counter. I couldn't put the meat out and then rush to the bathroom while the pan heated. Puck would be there when I turned around, nibbling or licking or sniffing as if he was just about to. When I shooed him away, he didn't run out of the room, he'd scamper around under my feet, trying to kill me.

Death by cat.

He was also looking funny. He wasn't the fat puffy thing he used to be. His coat was scraggly. It was uneven because in August I cut clumps of matted fur off and it just never grew back. He started collecting ticks, despite the frontline I administered each month, and the sores he got from scratching around his neck never healed. He had sores on his tail covered by matted fur. His bones were sticking through his skin - something you had to pet him to feel, due to his long fur. He also had permanent pink around his ears from repeatedly sticking his head into empty jars of pasta sauce.

So I took him to the vet.

They ran tests.

I took him back to the vet.

They did some more tests.

And then the vet confirmed it.

Puck is diabetic.

Diabetes in cats is treated with insulin injections twice a day. Very very tiny amounts on insulin. Administered with a very very shard needle. By me. And you have to be careful, because if you don't give enough, then the job isn't getting done and the cat will keep getting sick and eventually die. But if you give too much the cat will go into insulin shock, he'll DIE. The vet actually told me what to do if the cat seems drunk - Karo syrup. If he's unconscious, I get to rub it on his gums.

Aside from the injections, Puck is still on thyroid meds. He also gets a new diet of perscription (expensive) cat food. The vet recommends wet food. Which smells. Frank loves the wet food. Unfortunately, the food isn't for him. I'm probably going to have to start him on wet food, too, just to even things out.

All in all, this is presently causing a lot of upheaval. I'm putting a lot of energy into caring for my pets right now. More than I want to. And I know things will get easier, and this may even become second nature, but still. Ugh.

I know I rolled my eyes when people would talk about doing these things for their pets. I still do, even though I'm one of them (the people, not the pets). It's just crazy to do these things, to take these measures, to spend this much time and effort and money and stress on a pet! It's just... better than the alternative. Right? My Lord, we must all be insane.

One Step Forward...

We've needed a new deck for so long.

But it really was just one item on a very long To Do list. Still on that list is: fix that hole in the wall in the front hall, attach doorstop so the door knob will not re-create the hole. Fix the random hole in the drywall in the pantry. Scrape off peeling wall paper in master bathroom. Paint master bathroom.

Some things you learn to live with, like small holes in the drywall behind doors or peeling walpaper in rooms no one ever sees but you. Some things you find you can not live with, like holes in the steps to your deck.

When you finally get around to doing something about it, it's SO GOOD! WHY did we WAIT SO LONG? You ask yourselves. For a moment, just a tiny moment, you let yourself enjoy the new, fixed-up project, without noticing the little things you need to do to really make the new project finished, like fixing the wood floor where the wall used to be, or painting the living room, and the hall, and the kitchen.

It's a good thing you enjoyed that little moment, too. Because in the next 48 hours your garage door will stop working. Both the cabinet door and the vanity drawer in the kids' bathroom will break. The mailman will stop by to remind you about the mailbox and to notify you that mail delivery will be suspended until it's fixed. He had to knock because your doorbell is broken. You can't deal with any of it because you are arranging to take you cat to the vet for the third time so they can confirm that he has diabetes and will need insulin shots twice a day. Also, you forgot to wash the kids karate uniforms, again, and they still have the chocolate milk stains from three weeks ago.

Now you can't even remember what the work you had done WAS, and there's still plaster dust under the wall heater.