Quarantine

All three kids were home sick yesterday. Deanna and Dane had stomach bugs, Daelyn is running a low-grade fever - possibly strept.

It's amazing how small a normally large home can get when three children are all miserable in it at once. Deanna and Dane had waves of nausea and spent the day carrying around throw-up buckets. Despite my best efforts to keep them separated, they were all irritable (with each other) and overtired and I broke up more fights than I care to remember.

At one point, Dane was sitting on the footstool for our glider/recliner. He had pulled it in front of the TV and was peacefully watching a movie, with the throw-up bucket over his face, minding his own business. I was sitting at the computer doing some work on a fund-raiser I'm chairing for the school. Daelyn shot down off the loveseat and pounded Dane in the back, completely unprovoked and for no apparent reason (except, of course, that he's overtired and feels bad). Dane looked at me with big eyes that quickly began filling with tears. I shouted at Daelyn who climbed back onto the loveseat and burst into tears, shrieking with grief over his own actions (or the knowledge that the spanking spoon was very near at hand).

Around mid-morning, the school secretary called to touch base with me about the fund-raiser and asked how the kids were doing.

"They're all coming to school tomorrow. I know Daelyn isn't old enough for Kindergarten yet, but you'll have to find a place for him. They're getting OUT OF THE HOUSE!!!"

She cracked up. Being a mother of three herself, she fully understood, not to mention the fact that during our brief conversation, we were interrupted 3 or 4 times by fighting children that needed correction.

Having one child sick is bad enough. They're very labor-intensive buggers when they're ill. But three at the same time is a little much. Add to that Don's birthday (which was yesterday) and a fund-raiser that I HAD to get materials for out to the teachers, and yesterday was quite a challenge.

Today, Deanna and Dane returned to school (at least for a while). Daelyn has a 9:15 with the doctor for a strept test. I'm hoping and praying for a good nap.

If Mommy doesn't get some sleep, the children will be sending ME to school by Friday.

Hollywood, Here I Come

Deanna's home from school today, sick to her stomach. She and Daelyn are building with blocks. Deanna designed a beautiful house with spires.

Daelyn: "Mama, look at this beautiful house Deanna built. It looks like a castle."

Me: "It IS beautiful, son. Deanna, maybe you'll be an architect when you grow up."

Daelyn: "I want to be a movie star and act for other people."

Me: "I'm quite sure people would pay to see you act. You're so cute."

Deanna: "He IS cute."

Daelyn: "I don't think I'm cute."

Talented AND humble. I dunno. Doesn't seem to fit the typical Hollywood image.

Ringing Contract

Wednesday, at the beginning of Handbell Practice, I was helping the other ringers lay out all the bells. Dane plays F and G but one or two of the pieces we're practicing have an F#, so he needed the F natural, the F# and the G all out where he could reach them.

As I put the three bells on the table in front of him, plus the B and C that he plays in only one piece, he yelled,

"Hey!! What are you doing? I only signed on to play 2 bells."

The Missing Jack-knife

I found it! I found it! I found it, I found it, I found it.

I've been on a deep-cleaning binge since the children went back to school, trying once again to unclutter and divest of junk. In the kitchen on my bar counter, as well as in the Den and probably every other room in the house, I have a junk bowl. Friends who are much better at keeping their homes in order than me have told me they have a junk drawer that they toss all the loose items into and clean out about once every three months. I don't have ANY spare drawers in my kitchen or den, so I use a bowl.

Anyway, I dumped the kitchen bowl out on the counter today to get rid of junk that's accumulated in it. As I was sorting through refrigerator magnets without the magnet, hair bows and autographed pictures of Santa, I finally got to the bottom of the bowl to discover DANE'S STAINLESS POCKET KNIFE that my brother, Uncle Chuckie, gave him months ago.

I can't wait for him to get home so I can present it to him with a big grin.

Almost makes this drudgery of cleaning out everything worthwhile.

The Art of Cleaning

Over the weekend, we all relaxed, taking advantage of Daddy's absence. By Sunday afternoon, the house was a disaster - every room scattered with the refuse of a lazy couple of days. I asked the children to help me put some order back in our lives before the school week started and before Daddy got home.

Daelyn was assigned the Den, Deanna helped me in the kitchen, and Dane got to work on his bedroom, which both boys and a male guest had pretty-well destroyed.

In about 20 minutes, Dane bounded into the kitchen.

"Mama, get the vacuum cleaner, quick. Bring it to my bedroom. Please don't wait." He was very insistent, so I got the vacuum out and headed down the hall. Dane's room was still a disaster. I wasn't quite sure what the vacuum was for.

"I'll be done in one minute, Mom. I just want to clean everything out of my closet so you can vacuum it out for me."

As busy as I was, I didn't see just standing there, waiting, so I suggested he call me when he was ready for the cleaning part, and went back to work in the kitchen.

Shortly, Dane reappeared and was ready for the vacuuming. I did the closet for him, then he instructed Daelyn to neatly put all his own shoes back in the closet by pairs.

"You do your side, I'll do mine," he told his brother.

"When you're done, call me again," I said, "and I'll vacuum the rest of the floor for you."

I had just gotten back to work in the kitchen when Don arrived home. After greetings and visiting for a few minutes, we all got back to work. Dane didn't call me again. A few minutes later, I checked out the situation. Dane and Don were together in the boy's room and were discussing the best way to vacuum. In a few minutes, they had all the attachments to the vacuum cleaner laid out on the floor and were discussing the advantages and uses of each. I snickered and went back to work. Before long, I heard the vacuum and peeked in the room again. Don and Dane had the vent cover off and were cleaning out the duct in Dane's room. Next, they put the small nozzel on the vacuum and did the baseboards.

Later that evening, as I was tucking Dane into bed, he jabbered on and on about how clean his room was.

"Mama, my room has never been this clean! It feels great to have such a clean room. Brother, you need to make sure you don't mess it up again. It's really clean, don't you think, Mom?"

I reassured him and smiled to myself at the thought that he hadn't noticed all the times I've pulled the bunkbeds out and washed down baseboards and cleaned the entire room, even under the dressers. But I was so thankful that he was taking ownership for his room and that he had enjoyed cleaning with his Daddy.

For all the boys and men that think cleaning is women's work, take notice. Men can raise chores to an art form. And with the proper attachments (tools) and a vacuum cleaner (power tool), cleaning can be almost as much fun as "fixing things". Instead of a feminine skill, cleaning his room became a male bonding event for Dane and his Daddy.

All hail the vacuum cleaner (and the Dad willing to use it).

Sleep-deprived

Don was out-of-town over the weekend, at a Men's Retreat in the mountains. Friday night seemed to go just fine for us (partly because we were so busy), but Saturday night was rough. Everyone was beginning to fell the absence of Daddy.

Donovan whined most of the night and kept walking up to Don's pillow and laying his head on it. He'd stay there just a short time and then begin whining and walking around the bed again.

Several times during the night, he stood at the foot of the bed barking at something in the night. I know I get spooked when Don's not home, but I never thought the dog would.

In addition, the children were having trouble sleeping. Daelyn was up three times during the night, complaining of everything from a stomach ache to bad dreams. I'm quite sure all those things were true. The absence of Daddy brings on all kinds of ailments.

Deanna was restless and got up several times to go to the bathroom. Dane came into my room complaining of his throat hurting.

I had worked very hard to make sure I'd sleep. I had a nice, tall glass of wine before bed and WOULD HAVE slept like a baby if there had not been interruptions.

We're still playing catch-up on our sleep. The whole family is still tired and struggling with several different problems, all side-effects of lack of sleep.

It's a good thing Don's job doesn't require him to travel and he only leaves home about once every other year on an overnight trip. It makes me wonder just how many disfuntional families are partially that way due to chronic lack of sleep.

I'm very thankful for a 7:00 p.m. bedtime and almost daily naps with Daelyn. It sure helps keep us a happy family.

Tree-falling

I saved my husband $600 today without costing him a penny.

You know the routine. You go shopping, hit some fabulous sales, spend $300 and come home calculating everything you would have spent if the items y0u purchased had not been on sale. You proudly tell your husband that you saved him $300. He rolls his eyes and thanks you for not spending $600.

But that's not what happened today.

My husband's birthday is next week. His parents and sister asked for gift suggestions. He worked for a week or two, then gave me a list, which included a banana tree. You have to understand - when I first bought this house, it could have won an award for the most ugly trees and bushes in one yard. I've pulled out tons of bushes - prickly ones that did nothing but harbor bugs and ivy. But we still had two ugly trees in the front yard - a river birch that looked about 50 years old and was in the process of dying and a sugar maple whose roots have overrun the yard, making it impossible to mow. A couple of years ago, Don decided both trees needed to go and we should replace them with fruit trees.

Last week, a banana tree shows up in the mail from Don's parents. So the debate over where to plant it began. The problem was, the trees that the banana tree was to replace are still in the yard and won't be removed and the roots rotted in the next few days and the banana tree won't last forever in a cardboard box.

I asked Don what his plan was for removing the river birch and sugar maple and he said that he didn't have an extra $1,200 on hand. He says the going rate for removal of a tree is $500 - $600.

So, this morning, after taking the children to school, I got out my chain saw and an industrial extension cord and CUT DOWN THE RIVER BIRCH. My father helped pull the branches the right direction as I cut them so they wouldn't hit the power lines or go through the front windows. I got the whole tree down and started cutting the trunks into firewood and breaking off the branches to put in the barrel for the trash people to remove. The yard was completely covered in branches but, by 10:30, I had it about halfway clean. This evening, I spent a little more time in the yard and there's still a pile of branches to be cut up and remove, but it's a manageable amount of work.

My father asked me why I was cutting down the tree. I explained that I was saving Don $600. The sugar maple is way too big for my little ladies' chainsaw and in a dangerous place, so Don will have to hire a professional for that one, but the river birch was MINE.

Several friends walked by and laughed at my attempt to save Don money. But the bottom line is, it has to be done sometime and why spend $600 to get it done when a little sweat and effort on my part can accomplish it for free.

There's no downside to this project, except maybe the saw blade that will need to be replaced soon. My sister will get a nice pile of firewood that will be well-seasoned by next winter. We are sans a tree in the front yard. And Don still has $600 in his pocket.

When I signed on for motherhood, I didn't realize I'd need safety glasses, steel-toed shoes and a hardhat. But I guess it's all in a day's work.

Disappointment

Donovan loves walking the children to school in the morning. He gets a fair amount of exercise early in the day. He gets to greet lots of children, run, smell tons of interesting things along the way, and play with several friends he's met who live in yards we pass. He waits at the front door when he sees the children don their backpacks.

The tenor in the house must change as we prepare to leave. I'm sure it's louder and there's more activity. We tend to move from the kitchen into the dining room, where the front door is located. Grandma and Grandpa come down the front sidewalk and Grandma always has a big train whistle that she blows to let us know she's approaching the house. Donovan's excitement builds by the minute and he runs in circles in the dining room.

Yesterday, when Daelyn heard Grandma's whistle, he opened the front door. Donovan bounded down the steps to greet Grandma and Grandpa. I yelled to Grandma to get him and ran for his leash. I thought she had him, since he was running around her ankles excitedly saying hello. Then I heard screams to "Get him" and "Omigosh!" and "Quick! Stop him!". I ran back to the front door with leash in hand to see Donovan quite a ways down the road. He had greeted the Grandparents, then taken off down the sidewalk for school, crossing one side road on his own.

As we were yelling, he ran up to a group of older children a half a block down the road from us to say hello. They heard us and grabbed ahold of his harness, hanging on until Grandma and I ran up with the leash. Donovan was clueless what was wrong. He heard the whistle. He saw the commotion. The door was opened. It was time to go to school. He was headed down the sidewalk to SCHOOL. Nevermind he was headed by himself.

Today, Daddy walked the children to school. Grandma and Grandpa had other commitments and Don is off most Fridays, so he decided he'd take the children. He was emphatic about NOT taking Donovan.

"He takes too long," he complained to me. "He has to stop and smell every post and every blade of grass." All too true. He's poky, inbetween running spells. But he loves it so, Mommy would have never denied him.

I stood in the dining room holding him while the children and Daddy walked out and soundly closed the door inbetween us. Donovan was crushed. He sat down in front of the door with his nose to the crack and waited. Daddy didn't return for him. I tried apologizing, but I'm not sure he could really grasp how bad I felt for him.

I'm sure I'll pay dearly for Don's decision. The puppy's already tried to pull the toilet paper off the roll in the half-bath and nosed around in a box of Q-tips Don was using to clean our phones, trying to eat them. He's frustrated and looking for trouble. A good walk was just what he needed to get out some of the energy stored up during the night.

Alas, Daddy's think differently than Mommy's. Maybe I'll have to take him for a long walk later this morning and try and make it up to him.

Mercy, Lord, like the rain - - - falling from Heaven in BIG drops. Mercy for Donovan and for me. An extra measure for the protection of the house while Donovan's in this foul mood wouldn't hurt, either.

School-Marm

I substituted for Deanna's teacher this Tuesday. The children have only been in school one week, but I've agreed to be THE SUB for 4th grade this year (at least, until Christmas Break, when we'll re-evaluate). This means that I'm the first line of defense for the teacher. If she's ill, has to go out of town, or has an appointment, she calls me first. I should make every effort to work out the details so I can be available when she needs me.

When she asked me to commit to being her Sub for the year, she told me that she had permission for me to bring Daelyn with me in the Classroom. On Tuesday, we took two backpacks of toys. She set him up at a table in the back of the room with his "stuff". I brought snacks and a drink. He was quite timid at first, but loosened up as the day went on.

Mid-morning, we played a math game where I threw a ball at one of the children as I called out a math equation. They were to catch the ball, yell out the answer, and throw the ball back to me. Afterward, we moved onto math papers. I put the ball under my desk. Daelyn asked if he could play with it. Deanna's classroom has a door on the outside leading into a lovely courtyard. I let him take the ball into the courtyard to play. Later, he brought the ball back inside and went out to climb trees. I could see him through the windows, he stayed occupied, and there was almost no interruption in my teaching.

He had a fun time and is looking forward to me subbing again. I only had one problem with him - once his shyness wore off, he starting yelling out answers to the questions I posed to the Class. The scary thing was that he got most of the answers right. The fourth graders loved that. They got a real kick out of Daelyn. They all know him, especially the girls who baby him terribly. It was like having their own little brother in the room with them. Everytime I asked a question and waited for students to raise their hands with the answers, Daelyn would yell it out from the back of the room and everyone would crack up. He didn't seem to understand that the questions were for the fourth graders.

I was telling my friend, Kelly, about it. She came after lunch and picked Daelyn up to go to her house to play with her son, Daelyn's buddy. I didn't want to push it too much the first time in the classroom. I was telling Kelly about Daelyn answering the questions. She laughed and told me that her younger son, who's 4 like Daelyn, had gone with her when she took her third grader to the eye doctor. When the Optometrist asked the older son to identify the letters on the eye chart, the 4 yr. old yelled out the letters to his older brother that he had trouble with.

The great consolation in all this is that we have very helpful, attentive children. The down side is they haven't yet learned restraint. I'm not entirely certain I want them to.

Little Loves

Grandma, Daelyn, Donovan and I were walking home after taking the children to school this morning. After crossing a busy road, I asked Daelyn to scoot to the inside so I could walk on the outside of the sidewalk.

"Why, Mama?" he asked. "Why do you need to walk there and I need to walk here?"

"So I can protect you better," I answered. "If a car were to come towards us, I could push you out of the way and I might get hurt, but you would be safe."

Daelyn was quiet for a few minutes. Then he said,

"Mother, I think you love me the most - even more than Sissy or Brother."

I smiled, quite pleased that he thought that. But I didn't want him to tell his siblings, which he most likely would do, so I was quick to explain.

"I love all three of you the same, just in different ways. You're my baby, Sissy's my only girl and my first-born, Daney is my oldest son and the quiet one. All three of you are special to Mommy. You're my babies."

He seemed happy with that explanation. But I'm quite sure he's still harboring the opinion that I love him the most.

Texture and Interest

I took Deanna to the eye doctor today. She has been complaining of having trouble seeing since Dane got his glasses last year. I was a little slow to respond. Finally, this summer, while at the Pediatrician for her annual check-up (actually every other year at her age), he did a vision screening and told me I needed to have her seen by an eye specialist.

At 9:15 this morning, we blew into the Optometrist's office. After a good wait, she was seen and the doctor told us that her vision was borderline, but since she was complaining of having trouble seeing, we should try glasses for her. She added that Deanna's vision will only get worse, not better. True, although it sounded ominous and official coming from her.

After being seen and picking out frames, we were waiting for the lenses to be ground while we sat in the fitting area. It was painfully quiet in the room. I suggested to Deanna that they needed some nice background music, like elevator music or soft rock. Even Country Western would be better than the silence that surrounded us. A little ambient noise would have gone a long way to create a pleasant atmosphere in the office. Deanna frowned at me.

To illustrate my point, I began humming the theme song from the original Star Trek series. I added some gentle hand motions to increase the relaxing element. Deanna raised one eyebrow, something I taught her to do, by the way.

"Mama, you're embarrassing me," she blurted out. "And people are staring at us."

"It's okay, honey. We're just two wild and crazy girls. Ignore them." I picked up my humming again, just where I had left off.

"No, we're not two wild and crazy girls. You're wild and crazy. I'm embarrassed."

I was shamed into stopping my hand motions. Just to spite her, I hummed a few more bars. Then I sat quietly for a few minutes.

"They should hire me, you know. I added a lot of texture and interest to this practice."

Deanna refused to look at me. She's too young yet to really understand the value of texture and interest in a business like an eye doctor's office.

Someday, she'll mature, and then she'll really appreciate her mother's hand motions and humming. Until then, I guess I'll have to reserve my humming to when I'm alone.

The Touch

My parents had quite an experience today. When I was growing up, my father was a card-carrying Republican. My parents have always been at least a little politically-active but, over the last 8 years, have become even moreso.

My mother has been a delegate to the State Republican Convention (I believe my father has, as well) and they have become quite good friends with several senators. My father is on the GOP Executive Committee for our city. As they've become more involved, more opportunities have become available to them.

Today, they had lunch with President Bush. He was in Georgia and influential members of the state-wide Republican Party were sent special invitations to join him for lunch in Savannah. My parents accepted the invitation and, with a friend of my father's, who's also very involved in the Republican Party, drove to Savannah.

Daddy called a little while ago to tell me they were home grabbing a quick dinner before heading out to a prayer meeting. Apparently, President Bush not only shook my mother's hand but he also kissed her on the cheek. I'm quite certain he was overcome by her beauty. She's an amazing woman, at 74 looking about 50. And she exudes a sweetness that makes her even more beautiful, with a wide smile and sparkling eyes.

Mama says she's not going to wash her face or her hand tonight. She wants to let the touch of the President of this powerful country soak in a little.

I hope I get to rub against her cheek before it all sinks in.

Busy Weekend

We went to the Beach on Sunday for the day and the lake on Monday. Trying to cram every last bit of summer into the last two days. School started yesterday. We're all exhausted.

We got an early start on Sunday. I dressed the boys in nice shorts outfits and Deanna and I both wore skorts. We packed up the last-minute items, including the cooler, and left the house around 7:25 for church. We made it just in time for the 7:45 service, then took off like mad for Hunting Island, SC. This is a lovely beach and the State Park is a haven of palm trees leading right up to the very edge of the beach. Some friends of ours had reserved a large shelter and it was full of families we knew. We unpacked, ate, then changed clothes and headed for the WATER. The sand was soft and cool and there weren't too many bodies blocking our view of the ocean. The waves were perfect and the water was shallow for a long ways out. The children grabbed their boogey boards and headed out. I spent hours in the water with them, holding Daelyn in my arms and gently letting the waves lift us and put us back down.

Later, I went back to the van and got our beach umbrella and another chair so I could sit with Don. Daelyn was in and out of the water and the other two traded off the boogey boards with some inner tubes friends of ours offerred them. I split my time between Daelyn and the water, building a beautiful sand castle at one point that was swept away by the rising tide in about 15 minutes, before I even finished the mote.

It was a wonderful, peaceful day. I got terribly sunburned on my back and shoulders, but the children fared quite well. At one point, Daelyn got knocked under by a wave. He came to Don and I crying.

"I got pulled under by a wave and the water got in my mouth through THESE holes," he said and rubbed his finger across his closed lips.

Don and I looked at each other and grinned.

"What holes?" Don asked Daelyn, hoping he'd show us once more.

"These ones," Dane said through closed lips while he rubbed them.

Don and I cracked up laughing. Until Sunday, neither of us knew that there were holes in our children's lips. At least they're still good for kissing.

Why not You?

Dane and Daelyn have become bug magnets. The other day, after playing in the yard, Dane complained that he thought he was allergic to something and was breaking out. I looked his legs over. Nope. Mosquitoes, not smallpox.

Daelyn was at Grandma's house and she was doctoring all his wounds. She has a special way of rubbing Bactine with a cotton ball into mosquito bites that makes them stop itching immediately. While she was working on him, she noticed a scar on his foot that she mistook for a wart.

Grandma: "Daelyn, when Grandpa gets home, you need to have him pray over you for healing of that wart."

Daelyn: "What's wrong with you? Why do we have to wait for Grandpa? Can't YOU pray for me for healing?"

Grandma called Deanna in from the other room and they prayed over Daelyn. In Grandma's defense, Grandpa has prayed over my niece several times for healing from warts and they have disappeared, so Grandma considers prayers for warts to be one of Grandpa's gifts.

Daelyn had an excellent point, though. Perhaps the Lord would like to give Grandma a gift of wart healing. All of us should be open to whatever gift the Lord might have for us and be willing to pray with anyone at anytime.

From the mouth's of babes.