Good-bye 2007

I drove to work this morning in the dark. I arrived at work this morning in the dark. It was cold, but not so cold that I needed to spend 30 minutes defrosting my car. I so wanted to walk outside this morning and see snow. It's supposed to snow tonight, they say, though I doubt it will amount to anything. It would be very nice to see at least one good snow storm this year. Er...well, I guess I should say this winter, because this year is over, isn't it? It's funny how certain people, places, tidbits of information and other things stick with you, even if you don't necessarily regard them as significant at the time. I remember things like the fact that I once knew someone who has a birthday today. I remember what it felt like to sit in the sandbox my father made out of an old tractor tire and the smell of the sand he used to fill it. I remember how empty I felt after my children were born - just that first day or so after realizing I wasn't pregnant anymore and I wasn't going to feel my little one do somersaults in my belly. I remember my mother's hands. I remember my little sister, Hannah, as a baby, at her first Christmas, in her footie-sleeper with her padded & diapered fanny trying to stand up using the couch as support. (I, in fact, remember this frequently because Greta is now, right about where Hannah was then - and when I remember this, the whole loss of my early family comes crashing down upon me and I have to call Hannah and cry to her. I feel like a sniveling idiot.) I guess it's just that I seem to be spending the end of 2007 thinking about the past, rather than looking toward the future. The "what-if's" and the "could-have-beens" that plague me are especially raw and fresh. I'm not even sure that I really know how to explain this feeling. There is no way 2008 can be as eventful as 2007. We had our second child. We purchased our first home. Jamie started his own business. We remain perpetually broke. On the lighter side, we should get a decent tax break...right? Merry New Year to everyone. I hope that your 2008 is as wonderful as you would want it to be. (There I go, waxing sentimental again...) TTFN JMS PS: On a sad note, we lost our friend Phoebe (click to see blog post about her from 2006) this past week. She was the little mutt pooch our friends Carmine and Sarah fostered. Phoebe wound up being a permanent foster dog because she was deemed unadoptable due to health issues. Such a sweet little thing she was; such a funny little bark; such bright eyes. She will be missed.

Slow & Quiet Day

I spent the day at home. I think I was outside of the house twice. Once was to chase away a squirrel from the snowman bird feeder on the front porch and the other time was to drive .7 miles to the Kwik-e-Mart for a Coke, a Dr. Pepper, a Snickers bar and a 6-Pack of Newcastle.

Jamie and Charlie went to church alone this morning. I was still roaming around the house in my jammies & bathrobe when it was time for them to leave and Greta was sleeping. Don’t. Wake. A. Sleeping. Baby.

So I managed to tackle a bunch of laundry and spent some quality time on the floor of the living room with Greta as she explored the plethora of toys arranged before her. She is especially fond of her new classical star stacker from Aunt Elizabeth & Uncle Joseph. Every time the music starts she dances, grins from ear-to-ear, and squeals in delight. She has yet to figure out how to clap her hands together or she’d do that, too, I’m sure.

She also spent some time hanging out with the dog. Nalla, thankfully, is an extremely patient and gentle pooch even when Greta gets a bit overenthusiastic with her adoration of her favorite fuzzy friend. Pulled hair, ears and tail seem to mean little to Nalla; though we are right there all the time and try to tell Greta, “No, baby….be gentle…don’t pull.” Greta doesn’t get it yet, nor does she care, so it’s a good thing that Nalla is so easygoing.

Charlie spent a good portion of the afternoon (after his nap) playing with his new Black & Decker Jr. Play Workbench. He’s built and destroyed that birdhouse more times than we can count in the short time he’s had the thing. He also helped Greta play with her blocks and things while she was crawling around on the floor.

I’ve got to go back to work tomorrow for one day. Then, I’ve got New Year’s Day off and then back to work again on Wednesday. Such a strange schedule.

Anyway – I guess that’s it for now. Happy Sunday.

Kids & Clothes

Today I am gathering all the clothes that no longer fit the kids and taking them to a consignment store to see if I can get anything for them. Then, I need to see if I can find an inexpensive gift for one of Charlie's little friends who has a birthday party today. I've currently got one kid asleep and the other asking questions constantly while I'm trying to fold the rest of the laundry. Laundry. Oh. Will it ever end?

~click image to enlarge~

Woes

How does that thing go...? Something like, "I'm taking two steps forward and one step back." This basically means that I'm not getting anywhere. Every time I think I'm getting ahead, something comes along and knocks me back a step or two; sometimes right back into the crap I'm trying to get out of. This, unfortunately, applies to my financial situation right now. Well, mostly my financial situation, but it could apply to many other facets of my life as well. I don't know how I keep winding up with no money. I keep track. I really do. But somehow we still have no money. And then, the stupid bank charges you $28.00 to cover what's not in your account, so now there's even less money! When I get paid, I don't have anywhere near enough to cover my bills for the next two weeks, much less enough to buy food for my kids. That's why we're always in the red. I'd rather be in the red than not be able to put food on my table. I keep wondering, "What have we gotten ourselves into?" Thank goodness I'm up for my annual review next week. Hopefully, and with any luck, I'll have a decent increase to my salary. I'm even trying to think about ways I can make money working from home part-time so I can do that job when I get home from my full-time one. Yesterday - Jamie and I had to take three jars of change to the CoinStar thing at our bank just to make sure we had enough $$ to cover a couple bills that needed to be paid. I HATE LIVING THIS WAY. I'm going to surrender my debit card and my checkbook to Jamie. I'm not using them anyway - but at least this way I'll be less tempted. Maybe he will have better luck managing our money than I do.

Quick post

I watched disks 3 and 4, (episodes 5, 6, 7, & 8) of Band of Brothers last night. We watched the first four episodes on Christmas night. I've said forever and ever that I don't like war movies but I actually really enjoy this movie...series...whatever you call it. I could have stayed up all Christmas night and watched the entire 10 hours; I could have finished the series last night! As it was, Jamie and I went to bed around midnight. I didn't sleep, of course. Now both my children are up at the crack of dawn, Jamie (bless his heart) had to be at work at 7:30 and I've managed to find five minutes of quiet time to make a quick post. I really don't know what I'd do without this blog. Even if I write about nothing, I feel better when I'm done. Now if I could just get my back to quit hurting and this stupid cough to go away, I'd be golden! TTFN JMS PS: A very happy birthday to my Father-in-Law, Jim. He is suffering from a multitude of health problems and is in the hospital right now. I know he doesn't get to read this, but I want him to know I'm thinking of him on his birthday.

Christmas 2007

What you see is Charlie sleeping in Mom & Dad's bed on Christmas morning. What you don't see is mom sacked out next to him. It was bad. Really bad. (...do I mention the drool?...) So I cropped it. Don't ask for the original; I'm afraid someone might be able to use it as blackmail against me! :)





This is what Charlie & Greta saw when they got up on Christmas morning. Thank goodness for grandparents, friends, and Santa Claus or there would not have been very much there. Even daddy got a little something!







This is Charlie showing off his new soft bathrobe (so he'll quit stealing mine), his new mittens (remember, he cut up his last pair), and his new slippers (because he says his Lightning McQueen car-shaped slippers make it hard for him to walk). When worn together, it makes a great combination.





Here is little Greta Marie trying to figure out what to do with the present in front of her. "Hmmm... Do I eat it or tear it apart?"









Baby Greta, worn out after a long, busy day, hanging out with Daddy as he swayed and sang her into La-La Land.





Good day. Definitely a good day. Merry Christmas to all!

TTFN
JMS

Good morning! Um...yeah.

Have you ever reached into the linen closet in the morning, in the dark, and grabbed a towel only to find out when you’re standing there, post-shower, dripping wet, that what you’re actually holding is a hand towel or some other small terry-like thing that would never qualify in its lifetime as a proper bath towel but now you’re committed because the linen closet is way over there and that would mean dripping across the floor hoping to rescue something other than a postage stamp-sized bit of material that wouldn’t cover a common flea?

Ah...Christmas

This time of year has me on a roller-coaster of emotions; at once I am sad, frazzled, frustrated, angry, disorganized & excited. It never before occurred to me that one can experience all these things at once, but I am living proof that is possible. I am sad because Christmas is always a sad time for me. It was one of the first major holidays I had to celebrate after my mom died in 1989. It was also mom’s birthday on December 15th. I cannot go through this season without thinking of her on a daily basis. Even though it has been 18 years since she left us, it’s times like this when I miss her even more. Frazzled, frustrated, angry and disorganized just seem to go along with the season, but they also seem to be constant in my life in general. I touched on this a few posts ago, but the more disorganized things are, the more frazzled I get...which, of course, leads to anger and frustration. I’m excited to see what my kids think of Christmas this year. This is Greta’s first Christmas, and though she is not old enough to really know what’s going on, she will most certainly have fun playing with the packaging and ribbons...forget the toys! This will be the first Christmas that Charlie will really know what’s going on and take an active role in the day. He understands Santa; that Santa comes and leaves presents for the good boys and girls. But more importantly, he knows that Christmas is for Jesus and will tell anyone who will listen that Christmas Jesus’ birthday. So somehow we’ve managed to get point across, on both accounts. I think that it’s probably a good thing I have next week off because I would not be of much use at the office anyway and might actually be able to get something done at home. Well...Merry Christmas anyway! TTFN JMS

Ice Man Cometh...sort of

I had intended to post this on Monday - but somehow, I forgot I'd written it! Go figure! ~JMS ********************* Snow falling, frost glittering, ice sparkling - these are the things I love about winter. Even though disobeying weather patterns, stubborn cars, and a plethora of other things can ruin the entire winter experience if you let them. I have to remind myself to take a minute to appreciate the beauty of things as they are, not as I would have them be. It snowed yesterday. The first snow of the season, as far as I know. I wanted those flakes of white powder to drift gently down, to alight upon each blade of grass, each newly-naked tree branch, each rooftop. I wanted the snow to stick fast and grow deep and glisten in the sun once the clouds parted. But it was not to be. Yesterday morning, I and my family were awakened by the wind howling furiously against the house; knocking around the Christmas wreaths so carefully placed on each window until I thought they were sure to fall off. The 4-foot, plastic, light-up Santa Claus was still plugged in, but rolling around on its side. The trees were whipped to and fro, making it a minor miracle that nothing broke or came crashing down. The falling snow didn't eddy in a soft breeze, it came down fast and hard like it wanted to be sleet but wasn't. Even though it snowed almost all day, eventually tapering off to a light flurry after the wind abated, there was almost nothing to show for it and I was sadly disappointed. This morning, before the sun came up, I stepped outside and noticed how the street-lights, which cast a weak yellow glow over the early day, made the frost on my little red front porch sparkle like silver glitter. I carefully walked across the street to my cold and frosty Ford Taurus and gave it a reassuring pat to let it know that it would be warm shortly. As I opened the door, I realized it is just as cold inside as it is outside and began to lament the fact that my poor old Taurus doesn't have any heat. It doesn't matter how long the engine runs, the frost will never go away without help. So I dug the scraper out from the floor of the passenger side, said a quick prayer that my fingers would not go numb, and set myself about the task of scraping frost from the windows. Five minutes later, I am seated inside the still-frosty interior of my car, brushing snow-dust from my scarf. I have a little heater "thing" my thoughtful husband purchased for me. It plugs into the cigarette lighter and is supposed to provide a modicum of warmth. The thing is...it doesn't. It blows air that feels like it wants to be warm, but cannot quite get there. Plus, it is noisy so I very rarely use it. This morning, however, I was desperate to de-fog my windows and thought I would put this heater to the ultimate test. So I plugged it in, turned it on, and aimed carefully at a spot right at the center of my vision through the windshield. In seconds, there was a small, round clear spot through which I could see a portion of the old Cadillac parked in front of me. I moved the heater slowly across the windshield until it was clear enough for me to see without having any blind spots. Then, I drove carefully to work along the darkened streets. ********************* I guess I didn't exactly finish it, either - but now I don't know what else to do with it...so it is going to stay just like that. TTFN JMS

In the misty morning fog...

Some mornings I see him, some mornings I don't. When I see him, I recognize him immediately; even from a great distance, he is distinct. He is tall and thin and in his every move he exudes gracefulness. Whether he is standing on a post, or in the shallow eddy at the edge of the lake, he is beautiful. When the mist swirls around his spindly legs and the low light of the new morning makes him glow, he is at his most lovely.

His soft blue, smoky gray feathers have some white, black and maybe a little orange thrown in. At his full height, he might be three...no...four-feet tall.

He eludes me.

I see him, but he eludes me.

I want to capture his beauty in a photograph but he escapes me. The closer I get, the farther away he flies. If I could only get close enough to him, he would know the strength of my affection; he would feel the connection between us. He would know no harm would come to him. Yet he vanishes in a quiet whisper of wings, only to relocate himself out of reach of both me, and my camera.

It is not enough that there are other photographs like the one I am trying to capture; they are not my heron.

They are not my Great Blue Heron.

Mine.

My own.

Help, I've fallen and I can't get up!

So yesterday, I made a complete fool of myself at my Brother- and Sister-in-Law’s house. We’d just arrived there for our annual early Christmas feast and present unwrapping frenzy. I was carrying Greta in my arms into the house. As I walked across their beautifully finished hardwood floor toward the rug in the living room, my ankle went out and I went down like a stone sinking to the bottom of a stream! (Although...that description makes me sound like I fell gracefully, which is not the case at all! I’m sure anyone watching would have thought, “Gosh – what a klutz!”) I was upset because I was afraid I might have injured Greta; I didn’t know how I’d fallen and if I’d fallen on her. She, thankfully, was wearing her adorable, red velvet Christmas dress (...thanks, Aaron...), and her heavy blue parka, and her little pink fleece hat so she was pretty well padded. Plus, I was able to cradle her in my arms as I went down; Mother’s instinct, I guess. She cried because it scared her, but was otherwise unhurt. Poor Jamie. I yelled at him when he came in and said, "What happened!?" I thought it had to be plainly obvious what had happened and was angry with him for not figuring it out and coming to my rescue. I am sure now, that I reacted badly to his question. I'm sure, also, that I snapped at a couple other people who were only trying to help. So if you are one of those people, and you were there when it happened - I'm sorry for my behavior. I think, though, that I was just scared and upset and not thinking of how I was reacting. This is the second time I’ve fallen while carrying Greta. The first time happened during the summer. I'd had an emotional outburst and Jamie kindly told me to get out and walk it off. I had the baby in the Snugli, facing out so she could see where we were going, and I trudged up the hill for a while, and then trudged back down the hill toward home. When I was less than 100 yards away from the house, it happened. My left ankle went out, my right ankle followed suit, and as I went down, I twisted my right knee and then smacked it pretty hard when I hit the pavement. This is almost exactly what happened last night. Now, though I don’t really have any bruises to show for it, I’m suffering with two sore, weak ankles, and one very painful knee. Why is it, that when I fall hard like that and truly hurt myself, that I don’t have any bruises or visible injuries to show for it? Consequently, why, when I just bump myself or some other minor thing, do I get huge bruises and look like someone just tried to kill me? I don’t get that. TTFN JMS A few "Charlie-isms" to share from our recent Christmas experience:

"I love all this stuff!"

"I'm so excited!"

"Daddy - it needs batteries."

Public Restrooms & Cell Phones

I have decided that one of my biggest pet peeves (besides people who do not wash their hands after using a restroom) are people - and in this case women - who insist on talking on their cell phones while using a public restroom facility. First of all, it's rude. It's one thing if you are in the privacy of your own home speaking to someone you know could care less if you're doing laundry or squating on the toilet. It's quite another thing all together if you are in a public restroom, minding your own business (um...literally) and someone walks in on their phone having a conversation about, well...anything. They have no problem with the fact that you are now their captive audience, caught with your khakis actually around your ankles! Secondly, I do not need to know about what these rude people are having for dinner, who said what to whom, or what star got booted off the latest episode of "Dancing with the Stars." Please; if you are one of the offenders (and I'm not referring this to anyone who I know reads this blog), please...I'm begging you...shut the cell phone off when you go! TTFN JMS

The Psychology of Jen...?

Yeah, OK...so I have issues. I found an interesting article about dyslexia that I posted on Show-n-Share for your viewing pleasure. I was diagnosed (many, many years ago) with dyslexia, though granted it’s relatively mild compared to others. It used to be that reading and writing were very hard for me and I remember getting so frustrated when the words didn’t make sense or I couldn’t remember how to spell something that most people would find simple. I pushed through the reading and writing part of it because I’ve always loved both of those things so much that my frustration became a non-issue. The more I practiced reading and writing, the easier it got. Now, even though I still sometimes read something wrong or spell "the" backwards, I find that it’s mostly because I’m in a hurry and not taking the time to absorb what I’m reading or think about what I’m writing. I feel like the difficulties I had as a young child are still there, but I’m more able to deal with them after so many years of practice. The problem I still have (and it is as bad today as it was when I was a child) is with numbers. I am constantly transposing numbers and for the life of me (even though I know the difference) I cannot say "hundreds" and "thousands" correctly. For example, the amount might be $1500 and if I need to relay that number to someone verbally, I will say "fifteen-thousand." It’s quite frustrating. Thank goodness my husband understands this, and will now just look at me, smile like he’s amused and say, "Um...try that again, hon." I also think a lot of this confusion is due to the ADD I’ve struggled with my entire life. I’ve learned to live with it, for the most part, but sometimes I find I’m so scattered that I cannot function. This is why I get frazzled and upset when I have a clean kitchen, or bedroom, or bathroom, or desk at work and then it gets messed up – either by me or by someone else. The more orderly things are, the less confused I am and the more able I am to concentrate calmly on the matter(s) at hand. I am, however, a messy person by nature. I have clutter absolutely everywhere; not science experiments – nothing disgusting or anything like that, just clutter. I feel like no matter how hard I try, or how motivated I am, I’m still living in a disaster; both at work, and at home. My desk at work was clean, neat, and orderly and I was so completely productive last week that I thought I was definitely headed in the right direction. Now it’s a mess again and I don’t know how it happened! My kitchen was absolutely spotless last week (or was it this week...I can’t remember now) and I was so happy; the shiny sink made me feel so good – like I could tackle the rest of the house and make it shine if I only had the uninterrupted time to do it. And now, the kitchen is a mess again and I don’t know how it happened. Those are just examples. One of my husband’s biggest frustrations with me is that when we’re driving somewhere, I have to know which way he is going to go. I know that it really doesn’t matter, and that whichever route he takes we’ll end up at our destination – but I cannot handle, truly cannot handle, not knowing which way he intends to take me. It doesn’t matter! I know it doesn’t matter! I promise myself every time I get in the car with him that I will not say anything; I will not ask him which way he is going to go; I will keep my big mouth shut this time. But keeping quiet makes it worse. The feeling I get is like there’s this rope inside my body and it just keeps twisting itself tighter and tighter until I’m so wound up I could scream! This culminates in my asking, as politely and calmly as possible so as not to betray my inner "tight rope", "Which way are you going, babe?" Or some other similar question. I know it makes him crazy when I ask him that, and I’ve tried a thousand different times to keep my question inside – but I can’t do it. It is physically painful to me not to know. Anyway – I guess I don’t really have a point in all this. I guess I just needed vent and get it out of my system. Too bad there's not cure in the venting, eh? I’m a bit OCD, too...but I’ll leave that for another day! TTFN JMS

To Remove or Not to Remove

Yesterday, I sent out an e-mail asking everyone to please let me know if they wanted to be removed from the blog/site update list. The answer was a resounding YES! I have received quite a few responses from people wanting to be removed from the list and/or to just receive the updates say, weekly. I’m really OK with this, but I am, admittedly, a little sad - and I'm not sure I understand why. Not because I am taking offense. I’m the one who asked in the first place and knew I would get some responses for removal. Not because I feel unpopular. I’ve never been exactly popular, and the feeling of popularity is foreign to me anyway so I wouldn’t even know what to look for! Not because I feel like everyone and their brother should be reading my blog. I don’t. Not because I feel like anyone should really even be interested in what I have to say! Again, I don’t. I write this for me. This is my outlet. My place to pour out my feelings, complain, sound off, share good times and bad – even if it is with no one but myself. I have found something I truly enjoy doing that doesn't take any time at all and when I'm done, I feel like I've accomplished something. So I am thankful for those friends and family who responded with comments about how much they love keeping up with my blog, that they love my writing, or my favorite: “DO NOT REMOVE DARLING GIRL!!!!” It makes me feel very blessed to know that there are some out there who really do read my blog as often as possible, and not only do they read it, they enjoy it. So I'll keep writing, and you can keep reading. “They LOVE me! They really, really LOVE me!” (Tee hee!) TTFN JMS

Blogs & Antibiotics

I’ve been trying to get all my various blog entries, from all the various places they’ve lived over the last year or so, all moved to one place. I’m still working on moving over the ones from The Shell Family Online, but the LiveJournal and the iVillage ones have already been moved. The reason behind all the jumping around was because I was trying to find a site to host my blog that the IT guys at my office would not block access to. I think, right now Blogspot.com is enjoying a reprieve (probably due to some recent network updates) but eventually they’ll figure it out and block it again and that will be the end of my being able to post during lunch breaks. That’s OK, though. I’m vowing here and now that I will not move my blog from its present location ever again. Even if it kills me. Even if I have to go months without an entry due to lack of time. I keep having to remind myself that I do, in fact, have Internet access at home. Anyway – be happy that you will no longer have to chase my journal or blog or whatever you call it all over (...how did Mike put it?) Cyberspace. Next subject. I knew it was coming. I felt it coming on for about 2 weeks. The inevitable has happened, folks. All four of the Shells are on antibiotics! I broke down and went to the doctor this morning and she said that I have the beginnings of what looks like an ear infection in my left ear and a definite sinus infection. Great. Just what we need. It’s funny, though, because even though I’ve been feeling lousy on and off for the last couple of weeks, I don’t really consider myself sick. (I don’t want to hear any “...yeah...sick in the head” comments from the peanut gallery, please and thank you!) Oh well, at least now it will be safe for us to be around Ginger (Jamie’s mom), since we’re ALL on antibiotics! Ugh. TTFN JMS

What a Weekend!

Greta is being her usual sweet self, even though she absolutely hates taking that antibiotic. Jamie pointed out something I hadn’t considered. Why do the doctors or pharmacists (whomever’s job it is) choose bubblegum flavored medicine for a 9 month old who has never tasted bubblegum!? Good question, huh? He also suggested it’s because the medicine is very cold; you have to keep that stuff in the fridge. Either way, she hates it and usually winds up with pink goo all over her face, shirt and fingers. She shakes her head “No” when she doesn’t want something; I guess that’s something all babies know - a normal reaction - because I don’t think she really understands what she’s saying. Friday was a good night. Jamie worked so I had the kids to myself and Charlie was as good as gold. We put Greta in the Jumperoo and she went to town. She loves that thing! (Thanks, MW, for letting us borrow it!) Charlie played with his Thomas trains, arranging and rearranging the tracks into all kinds of different shapes and sizes until dinner time. Then, he dutifully put the tracks and trains back in their bags and put them in his room. I’m really a little fuzzy on the specifics, like what we had for dinner and what time Jamie came home – but I guess they’re unimportant. Saturday was a good day. Jamie worked and I had my kiddos again. Charlie was very good and he spent a significant amount of time making Greta laugh – which I love. I don’t know what we did all day. I do know that Jamie put Charlie in bed around 8:30 and fell asleep with him! Greta was already in bed at that point and I felt motivated (or, maybe it was that I was sick of it and couldn’t stand to look at it anymore) so I spent the next couple hours cleaning the kitchen from top to bottom. The dishes got done. Everything came off the counters and the counters got cleaned thoroughly. Stuff found homes in places they didn’t live before. The sink got shined (boy...does it shine!). The stove was degreased. The kitchen table was cleared of all its clutter and given a good wipe-down. I lighted the sugar cookie candle to make the place smell warm and inviting. I put the pretty brass, star-shaped cookie cutter on the back of the sink for effect. I put all the lovely green Granny Smith apples Jamie bought for the purpose of making an apple pie into the Longaberger basket I got from Ginger (my Mother-in-Law) for Christmas last year. Oh...the finished product was so lovely! Now, I just need to move that motivation on to the Living Room. Sometime during my cleaning, I heard Jamie fussing at Charlie for not holding still. He was whiny and flopping around like a fish out of water trying to get comfortable. I decided, after hearing Jamie fuss at Charlie for the fifth time, that Charlie and Jamie would both be better served if I moved Charlie into my bed. So I went in, scooped up my little boy, and deposited him on my bed. He woke up and asked me what was going on. I explained that he and daddy were fighting over the bed so I thought it would be fun for him to sleep in with mommy tonight. “Oh...” says he.

I finished my work on the kitchen and was in bed around 11:30. Charlie had flopped himself around sideways, so I had to move him to be able to fit myself into my queen-sized bed. He woke up again and said, “Mommy – I can’t sleep! I can’t get comfortable and my legs hurt!” So I massaged his legs and feet for about 10 minutes until we both fell asleep. Twice during the night Greta joined us so she could eat. Charlie tossed and turned all night. Sunday morning dawned, dark and dreary. Jamie was already up when Charlie and I got out of bed. He was sitting in the living room with Greta, and they were chatting to one another in that nonsense language of babies. He wondered where his wife was and what had happened to the kitchen. Ha Ha. We had a nice breakfast. We got ready for church. We went to church. Jamie and 10 others from the choir (you know Jamie sings in the church choir, right?) sang a fantastic anthem (a capella) that moved me to tears and then Kevin, our good friend and the choir director sang a solo during the offering which was so crystal clear and beautiful, you needed to hear it to do it any justice. Words just won’t work. After church, Jamie took Charlie and went to Sam’s Club to get diapers and I took Greta to Wal-Mart to get everything else we needed. When I got back, Jamie and Charlie were already back and Charlie was crying his eyes out. It turns out that Charlie also has an ear infection, both ears. So we’ve got two kids on antibiotics now. The doctor said that Charlie’s infection was pretty far along and was also somewhat amazed that he didn’t have a fever. She could see that he was in pain and suggested some Children’s Motrin for pain. I’ve never heard, in almost 4 years, our little boy cry that much. He was so sad. He told me his ear hurt and that when he closed his eyes (I suggested he do this to try to rest in the car) he got dizzy. He slumped against my chest in the waiting room at the doctor’s office (yes, our pediatrician has Sunday hours – thank goodness) and he fell asleep on the exam table in the room while we were waiting for the doctor to come in. We then made another trip to Wally-World for Charlie’s prescription, some Children’s Motrin, and parmesan cheese (which I forgot on my earlier visit). On the way home, we saw Santa Claus walking across a parking lot! I pointed him out to Charlie and he got very excited and said, “OH! Mommy! We’ve got to go see him!” He’s sick so I humored him. We made quick left turn onto Central and circled back around to the parking lot in front of, what I now know to be, Santa’s cabin. A local business was sponsoring pictures with Santa, and though we didn’t want a picture, I asked if we could see Santa. They said, “Of course! Come on in!” So we entered the cozy little cabin and after the first glimpse of Santa, Charlie flatly refused to even look at him. We tried for 5 full minutes to change his mind, but it was useless. In the end, Santa patted Charlie on the head, slipped him a candy-cane (with my permission) and wished him a Merry Christmas. We were headed out the door when Charlie said, “Mom! We need a candy cane for daddy, too!” I looked at Santa, whose sparkling eyes smiled as he said, “Go on, Buddy! Why don’t you reach in that basket and grab one for your daddy, too!” Charlie, of course, would not do this. He said, “You get it, Mom!” So I got the candy cane for daddy and we went home. Charlie said he felt better, even though he hadn’t had any medicine yet, because he got to eat his candy cane in the car on the way home. Daddy was happy with his candy cane and was completely shocked to learn that we’d seen Santa right here in Oak Ridge! TTFN JMS

Greta's Evil Twin

So, Greta has an ear infection. Jamie called me yesterday and asked if I could come rescue him from the screaming evil twin of our usually sweet-tempered little baby girl. I was able to leave early so I could go home to take her to the doctor. The doctor said "Hmmm...are you SURE she hasn't been running a fever?" at least three times that I remember. My answer was, "No...she has not been running a fever." I had, in fact, been checking it regularly because I knew she wasn't feeling quite right, and it was never elevated by even a tenth of a degree! The doctor said that there was quite a bit of fluid in her right ear and that her ear canal was red and inflamed. So that would account for the screaming... (That, and the two teeth getting ready to rip their pearly-white ways out of her tender pink gums.) So now she's taking Amoxicillin for the next ten days. I talked to Jamie this morning and asked him how Greta was doing. He said that whatever that thing was that was masquerading as our baby yesterday is gone, and our girl is back now. She was, at the time I talked to him, munching on some home-made biscotti (*I have been corrected - they were not made by our good friend, Sarah) and loving every minute of it. It's amazing how a little medication, a little sleep, and 12 hours can turn around even the grouchiest creatures! TTFN JMS

Boys will be Boys

So after the Scissors Incident, you'd think Charlie had had enough of experimenting with things that shouldn't be experimented with, right? Wrong! The other night (and I don't know why I'm just now remembering this) I caught him in the bathroom taking off squares of toilet paper and tossing them in the potty to see them "melt". As I came upon him, he was carefully trying to pull the end of the roll of paper across the little bathroom, put it in the toilet, and then flush to see what would happen. I said, "Charlie! What are you doing?" He nearly jumped out of his skin because he was so engrossed in his task that he forgot to keep an eye out for Mom. "Mommy!" He says. "You scared me!" Um...yeah. Last night, he came to our doorway and whined until I woke up. I said, "Go back to bed, Charlie." Whimper..."I can't sleep!" "Charlie...go potty and get back in bed. It's three o'clock in the morning and you cannot be running around the house right now." He whimpers again, but does exactly what I say and I don't hear another word from him all night. He even remembered to flush and close the lid! TTFN JMS

Conversations & Christmas Trees

Usually, when someone starts off a conversation with, “Don’t say anything to so-and-so, but...” you can be pretty sure that the topic is bound to be something offensive, gossipy, or just generally negative in nature. I had a similar conversation last night with someone very close to me. I’m willing to keep my mouth shut because I love this person very much, but it’s like telling me to stick a needle in my eye by requesting that I don’t write about a very important subject in my blog! Plus, I really don’t know what is going on...the underlying problem or issue...so I am just going to trust this person to do what they need to do about whatever it is. (No, I’m not pregnant again...so don’t even think about it! And no, the “someone” is not Jamie, either. Will ya quit trying to figure it out? You never will. I promise.) Anyway – as I was saying; this person called me last night, and we had a great conversation, and I was very excited to hear from them because we don’t talk to one another nearly as much as we should. Then, about 5 minutes later, this person called me back and said, “Hey, if you don’t mind, don’t say anything about this in your blog.” Um...What? Well...Ok. Because I love you, I’ll keep my mouth shut... ...sort of. In other news, we got our Christmas decorations out last night. Charlie got to help put up a few of the decorations along the bottom of the tree (the only place he could reach) before going to bed. We have a little two-foot tree, so it sits up on a table or, as it is right now, on the desk. Jamie and I panicked a bit when we got the boxes down from the attic, because we both thought we had a bigger tree than we did, and we couldn’t find it! Well...it was stuffed into a black, plastic bag, and then put into a big Rubbermaid tub along with a bunch of other stuff. I really, REALLY wanted a real tree this year – you know, to go with our new house? But we couldn’t afford one and didn’t have a tree-stand, either. Oh well, there’s always next year. It’s neat, because every year it’s like opening presents all over again when you are involved with unwrapping all the ornaments. I find that I like certain ones more than I did the year before, and others less. The favorite ones get the places of honor at the front and top of the tree, while the “others” get relegated to the sides, back and bottom. Since the tree is only two-feet tall, however, it always seems absolutely crammed with fun ornaments. That’s another reason I wanted a real tree – so I can spread all the great things out on something larger for all to see! Oh...and I found a new favorite thing; Mint Truffle Hershey’s Kisses. OMG!!!! These things are so lovely. You know, right along the lines of a York Peppermint Pattie and a Starbucks Peppermint Mocha. Are you detecting a pattern yet? (Oh, and Andes Candies are always good, too – and Junior Mints...) LOL! TTFN JMS

December already?

I woke up this morning, after a restless night, and realized that it was already three days into the month of December and that Christmas is, literally, days away. We have done absolutely nothing - nothing - for Christmas this year. We haven't bought any presents. We haven't put up any decorations (though we will...and were planning to do that last night, but it never happened). The kids haven't had their portraits taken. I just don't think I have it in me to do anything else, which includes Christmas. None of that really matters anyway. It's the REASON Christmas exists that's important. But we'll probably do something if we can. Right now we're so broke that we couldn't afford to buy anyone a pretty toothpick! Ugh.