control issues

I let the kids decorate the tree by themselves this year. For the most part anyway. I would only get out one box at a time, and only when the last box was completely cleaned up of tissue paper, etc. and I would carry the box, just in case they tripped and dropped it. Then I would leave the room. I figured it was best that way. However when they were completely done I went in and rearranged several things. I moved many of the smaller ornaments to the very bare top two feet of the tree, I moved the more breakable ornaments out of Christopher's reach, and when I found a branch or two that was particularly heavy laden with ornaments I relieved much of it's burden. All in all I think they did a good job. And I saved several hours of after-the-kids-go-to-bed work by delegating, and they had fun. And I learned that by relinquishing control of this one thing nothing terrible happened.

I have to say I think I might get some of it from my mom. She has always been very particular about her trees. Growing up we always got fresh trees, and they had to be just so. We had a vaulted ceiling in our front room so it could be as tall as we could afford that year, and the branches had to have enough space between them so there would be room for the ornaments. But the ornaments couldn't be put on until my mother meticulously spent hours and hours stringing the tree with lights. The girl's got skillz. Each branch is carefully and perfectly wrapped to achieve maximum and perfect lightage. I don't really remember hanging the ornaments as a kid but I'm not sure if that is due to faulty memory, my mom doing it because she wanted it done right, or because we as kids honestly didn't care and the job fell to my mom or d- all of the above. Now they spend so many Christmases down here with the grand kids that she finally broke down a few years ago and bought a pre-lit tree so now she can have her tree all month long and travel too.

For the first few years of our marriage I insisted on having (and John was on my side in this matter) a real tree. Where we differed in opinion was what kind of tree. I liked the kind I grew up with, he liked the kind he grew up with. I eventually won that argument because I was the one doing the tree decorating and after that first year... That tree was more of a bush than a tree with really really long sharp needles going straight up. It was almost impossible to decorate. John wrapped the tree with lights like he was tying it up. Round and round and round those lights went. Our ornament collection was meager at best so that wasn't much of an issue, but when it came time to take everything down and I had scrapes all over my arms and hands from the dry, sharp, needles, I swore never again! I would be in charge of the tree! ha ha ha ha ha!

We had a real tree for many years, but real trees in Arizona don't seem to last very long, and they are expensive (but they are expensive everywhere) and it was generally mid-December before we could get one, and then one year we decided to go to Utah on the day after Christmas so in order to avoid leaving a fire hazard in our living room, plus the fact that taking down the ornaments would be easier when the tree wasn't totally dry, after the presents were opened on Christmas morning, I spent the afternoon taking down the tree. So sad.

We've had a fake, pre-lit tree for a few years now. I got all but one strand of lights working this year. I spent two hours trying to figure out what the problem was. I guess you just can't control everything. At least I can turn it so the faulty strand is in the back. Another thing I have no control over is how my youngest behaves in front of the camera. Posing is out of the question.

random Thanksgiving things

It was a good Thanksgiving this year. It always is no matter how we spend it, but I just thought I'd say that. This year it was just us at home. No guests, no traveling. Last year when it was just gonna be the six of us I managed to talk John into going to Disneyland. That was a lot of fun. They have the place all decked out for Christmas and I mean totally, and it's amazing and fun. I didn't want to crash Thanksgiving at John's Aunt and Uncle's house, because that would be rude to just invite ourselves,(they live only a few minutes away from Disneyland) so I came up with the fabulous plan of just having turkey sandwiches on the beach. Maybe some chips. And root beer. I thought it would be memorable and fun and the kids would get a kick out of it. John's aunt Vicky wouldn't hear of it. We had a perfectly lovely traditional dinner at their house. They've always been too good to us.

This year John isn't up to all that walking that comes with Disneyland so we stayed home. I told him that we could just get a wheelchair then we wouldn't have to stand in line. He said no. Drat. So we stayed home and I cooked dinner and we watched the Macy's parade and had a good time.

The kids had never heard of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade before. (we're not huge parade people. My goal is to make it to the Gilbert days parade, but I think I just missed that one again) I spent the whole time explaining things to the kids.

"It's a very famous parade. They've been doing it for forever. Millions of people from all over the country watch it on TV every year."
"I bet people from all over the world watch it!"
"Uh, no, Thanksgiving, is just an American thing."
"It is?"

"ooh, kids, the Rockette's are gonna perform next!"
"Rockets? There's gonna be rockets?"
"No Rock-ette's. They're famous dancers that have been around for like 75 years.- See?"
"75 years huh? They don't look that old. Why are their skirts so short? Aren't they cold?"

"Mom look! It's Norton!!"
"Norton?"
"Yeah, you know, Norton the elephant, Norton Sees a Who? "

"Mom look! It's Hermit!"
"Who?"
"Hermit!"
"Who?"
"Hermit!"
"Who?" (I could see the big green frog coming up, I was just having fun with her )
"Hermit!"
"You mean Kermit the Frog? Kermit with a K?"
"I thought Kermit was spelled with a C."

Some things I am grateful for- I am grateful that John doesn't expect me to get up before the sun to start dinner. I think I would hate Thanksgiving if I had to do that. I am grateful that if dinner doesn't get on the table until four or five or heaven forbid, six pm nobody would hold that against me. I am thankful that even though my oven light went out on me and we had to use a flashlight to see if the red thingy popped up that at least I didn't set the oven on fire this year. I am grateful that even though I don't think my orange rolls didn't turn out as good as I had hoped and I refuse to blog about them on my food blog until after my mother comes down and we make them together at Christmastime and I can finally let John give them out to home teaching families that at least my kids think they are still fabulous. I am grateful that John made the kids help him do all the dishes and I didn't have to lift a finger. (In my opinion cleaning up is the worst part of the meal.) I am grateful that John went to the store for me and bought me a portable CD player so I could listen to Christmas music in my kitchen. I am grateful for my kids who were sweet and well behaved and got along and played with Christopher until they wanted to cry. I'm sure I could list a million more things, the things I regularly count when I count my blessings. A wonderful husband... beautiful kids... our health... our freedom... our faith... this world... John's job... our house... our friends... extended family... technology... my Heavenly Father... Jesus Christ... (in no particular order)

So much to be thankful for, I'm thankful to have a day just to be thankful.

obsessed? it's up for debate.

It all started with a book- you know which one I am talking about.

My friend Mindy was in town visiting and she said "There's this book that you HAVE to read! Oh my gosh! I need to talk to someone about these books!" And that's how it began. She dragged me to the bookstore, bought books one and two for me (in hardback, cause she knew I would want to share them) and I was instructed to read them ASAP and then call her immediately, because she needed someone to talk to. "I know it sounds kind of weird" she said, "but trust me on this one. It's about this girl and this guy who fall in love, but he's a vampire..."

So that was how it began. True to her word, I loved the books, and lent them out until my friends started buying their own copies. I went to a book signing by the author, a midnight release party for the latest book, stayed up all night reading that book, took a picture of a silver Volvo S60R in the parking lot of a hospital with my cell phone, and for awhile there my flair board on facebook was all twilight. (Now it's all Halloween, I think I need to change that).

Other things I haven't blogged about (at least I don't think so) are the fact that for awhile there I was checking several different websites each and every day for any news on books or the movie. (I don't do that anymore, just once or twice a week now) I've spent hours reading all the additional things (out-takes, etc) written by Stephenie on her website- I love what she's written in Midnight Sun, and I hope desperately she will finish it, (it's so yummy) and I've downloaded a good amount of the play list for each book. There you have it. I think that's all the ugly details.

On the other hand, I've never sent off any fan mail, or dressed up as a character from the book, I don't own any of the t-shirts (although I wouldn't say no to one), I thought about doing a whole twilight theme background for my blog, but thought better of it, I do own the twilight complete illustrated movie companion book, but I didn't buy that or ask for that and if I had seen it in a bookstore I most likely would have picked it up and thumbed through it, but not paid actual money for it. I was just in an exceptionally crabby mood one day and John bought it for me "so he could see me smile". I didn't go to the midnight release of the party (but that's just cause things didn't work out that way.)

But I have seen the movie twice already. Once on Friday and once on Saturday. Obviously I loved it. I loved it even though it was cheesy in spots, and choppy, and too short, and there could have been a lot more character development, and some of the special effects and left a little to be desired, and I laughed throughout the whole thing. I laughed at serious moments when laughing would normally be inappropriate, I laughed at certain parts that felt more like an inside joke to those of us who have read it a few times, and I laughed at the people around us. For instance there was this little girl (12 or 13 or so) sitting next to us and she was the best. So totally not in control of herself no matter how hard she tried. She was almost as entertaining as the movie with her gasps and sighs every time Edward had a close up, how she just shook in her seat, and her barely audible "I love you Edward!" or "Just kiss her already!" had us laughing (silently) in our seats.

I've heard rumors that New Moon will be made, and I am crossing my fingers that they will throw a little more money into the production of it. Maybe I'll go to that midnight release showing of it, and wear a twilight inspired t-shirt. Until then I shall have to bide my time, I am sure I can find something to keep me occupied, but if anyone else wants to go see the movie (again even) I'm so game.

Sad Day

I just got the bad news. I guess my mom called while John and I were out on a date tonight. She called to give us the heartbreaking news. Nick took a message and he's just as upset as I am. It's like a death in the family.

They cancelled Pushing Daisies. I know, I know. I think I might cry. So much for my power as a Neilsen Family. I guess they will air the shows they've already done, and maybe do comic books, or a movie, but still... Nick wondered aloud what will we do on Wednesday nights? I wonder that too. It's only been a part of our lives for a little over a year, and that ugly strike cut the season short last year, but we've enjoyed every single episode. So I'd like to take a moment of silence for one of the best shows to be cut down in it's youth...

Mother of the year

I think I must be neglecting my baby. After reading up on the lives of my friends and family through their blogs, I walked down stairs to find this the other day-and then just other day there was this-
I was making caramels at night after the other kids had gone to bed. He had gotten a decent nap during the day so I thought he'd be up for awhile. I gave him a snack, filled his sippy cup, and put on a movie for him to keep him busy and set about my work. The problem with making caramels is I am dealing with very hot sugar and I have to stand there and stir and stir and stir. I am pretty much stuck standing next to the stove for close to thirty minutes per batch of caramels.

Christopher got tired and wanted me to hold him, but I just couldn't. It totally isn't safe, and I can't walk away. So he laid down on the floor to cry (his normal reaction to the word "no"). I had nearly 15 minutes to go, and I just had to stand there and stir and watch his poor rejected little face as he cried for me until he cried himself to sleep at my feet.

Mother of the Year- yeah, that's me.

Mickey Mouse turns 80!

Happy Birthday Mickey Mouse! We Love You! Thanks for the memories!!!
Other more verbose and informational tributes to the mouse can be found here and here.-FYI

Talents

For starters I think it is pretty fortunate that after 10 months of blogging I would FINALLY figure out how to add links to the body of my posts today. Fortunate because there were two separate blogs (not-coincidentally on the same subject that got me thinking today quite a bit) This one and this one. So I can share them with you without having to say things like "link to the side" - like I usually do. So I'm pretty proud of my new talent. I thought about doing a really obnoxious totally rad blog post where I put all sorts of links sending you to all sorts of places all over the web, but I thought better of the idea.

In a nutshell those two blog posts were about the very same coach to a bunch of boys playing flag football. One was from the perspective of the wife of one of the coaches, the other from the mother of one of the kids on the team. Their team ended up winning the championship against numerous odds, but the point of the story was that the coach placed the individual team members above winning. ( and who knew that when you treat kids like winners, in the end they up taking home the big trophy)

What got me thinking was about Nick's not-so-glorious career as a soccer player. He played for like 5 years. We were on numerous teams. Sometimes the coaches were pretty great, and sometimes not so. The coaches we liked best were the ones who did value the players over winning, but sadly our story is a little different than the flag football story. Most of the time the teams we were on lost repeatedly. The soccer league we were in was a just-for-fun league and never kept score. There were no championship games. But we still knew. The kids still knew when they lost yet another game.
But Nick still managed to keep a good attitude the whole time. He said he loved soccer, and every time we asked, he said he wanted to sign up again. Truth be told, he was (sorry Nick) at the bottom end of the talent spectrum when it came to soccer. I still admired his attitude and his desire to go on. I never once got to be the proud mom and watch her son score a goal in all those games, but I got to be the proud mom to watch her kid run to the injured player and help him off the field, no matter what team the kid was on, and even though the rules stated he should have been kneeling on the field.Then there was the very last soccer season. Nick was finally bumped up in age bracket and had to be on an all boys team. The league was still non-competitive, but to watch that coach, you'd think otherwise. He immediately divided the team into two parts- the starters, and the other kids. (Guess which part we were in) The starters played for most of the games, and the other kids, while technically getting to play in every game, only got a few minutes play time. I truthfully couldn't tell you whether it was a winning season or not. I had heard rumor that he was handpicking his own winning team, and trying to force out "the losers". Maybe it was just a rumor.Then came the after season party. This is usually a fun time for all involved, and the coach started out handing out the participation trophies (and I realize that this whole subject is debatable, that giving kids trophies just for showing up can be perceived as a dangerous practice, and I'm not really gonna go into the pros and cons here) But then he started handing out the "real" awards. He gave a certificate 'most improved', 'most goals scored', etc. Everybody got something, except Nick and this other little boy. Nick was crying before the party was over. He was off in a corner so that no one would see him, but it was evident that the coach made him feel bad about himself. He (and we as parents) tried to ignore it the whole season long, but it became glaringly obvious that because Nick wasn't as good as the other kids he wasn't needed or wanted on the team. At nine years old his career as a soccer player was over.
I'm not saying that if he had had a different coach it would have made all the difference and he might be playing for a professional team some day, cause it's been fairly evident from day one that the kid doesn't have an ounce of competition in his blood, but I would have like to see him enjoying playing the sport as long as he wanted to, even though clearly, soccer isn't where his talent lies. I am also sorry that it had to end on such a sour note.

I guess I would just like to say that I liked reading those blogs about the positive side of sports and coaching. I think kids can learn valuable lessons out on the field and I hope that for every meanie coach out there, there's a Tim or a Travis to balance things out.

On a positive note, apparently public speaking is one of his natural born talents. (Don't ask me where he gets this from) It was the primary program in church today and Nick was one of the narrators. He spoke loudly and clearly and with animation to his voice. By the end of the day he said he was getting kind of embarrassed at the number of adults who were telling him what a great job he did. I overheard one lady as she was singing his praises to him and he was trying to downplay it and say that he was just one of the many who did a great job and there were lots of others who worked hard and did a good job too. Truth be told I had a few people tell me I need to put him in acting classes. Which I will. If he wants to. Just as soon as he masters the talent of turning in his assignments on time and brings those grades up.

Flat Stanley

It just occurred to me that there are a glaringly lack of visuals in my last few posts. There's some rather disturbing pictures of John's "hair socks" and a picture of some cookies which I had actually already posted once before on my food blog. And, umm, yeah, that's it. So although I have been sick, life still goes on, and while I was sick in bed with the flu, John took the kids out on a little excursion to get some more pictures of Flat Stanley to send to the kids' cousin Joshua in Texas. These are some of the fruits of their labors-

In front of some Saguaro cacti

Even though I was not there, I'd still like to give a little shout out of thanks to the random people who let my family interrupt their golf game,Pose for a picture in their golf cart,Or borrow their fishing pole.

I'm also pretty sure that Joshua is going to be pretty thrilled to get the picture of the HSM3 poster.And the shoes. What almost 9 year old boy wouldn't get excited about a bunch of girly shoes?However I think the "shoes" picture is better than this"dirty, holey socks picture"- I was sick in bed remember? For dinner Flat Stanley got to go to one of our favorite burger places to eat- IN-N-OUTAnd of course what's better after burgers and shakes for dinner? Gelato for dessert!

a side effect

John's been sharing his vicodin with me. He doesn't like the loopy feeling it gives him, and my throat and ears have been killing me these past few days so I have been dipping into his stash. With the exception of the loopy-ness which I totally don't mind, one little side effect kinda does bug me a bit- it makes my nose itch. Is that weird? Does that happen to anybody else, or is it just me?

the wait is over

remember my post a week ago "waiting..."?

So much for the whole "moms aren't supposed to get sick" rule. After taking care of sick people for a couple of weeks, I thought I had beat any bugs that might be coming my way. I was wrong, so wrong. I (think) I am officially on the mend, finally. Instead of getting away scott free, I managed to get sick the worst of all. First I got a raging case of strep which prevented me from going to my very first ever cooking club meeting, which I was so excited about and was supposed to teach caramel making and was going to provide me all sorts of material for my food blog. But alas, I got to stay home and feel sorry for myself. Fortunately I had all my stuff prepared, and the girl doing the demos was able to take over for me, so that worked out fine, and I even was brought a couple plates full of the goodies I missed and the recipes to go with them.

The next morning I woke up with a bad case of the flu. So bad that I wished I had a double case of strep. Luckily John had gotten home the night before, because there was no getting out of bed for me that whole day (unless it was to run to the bathroom).

So I am up and moving about again today. Not feeling perfectly swell, but I am back to doing the fun things in life like changing poopy diapers and picking up after kids. So (knock on wood) I should be back to normal soon.

Maryanne's sugar cookies

Over on my food blog a day or so ago, I posted the recipe for my sugar cookies. I also talked about how I got the recipe from my mom who got it from her friend- Maryanne. My mom called me up tonight (actually she was just returning a phone call) but she mentioned how in reading my blog today I had made her cry.

Maryanne was a friend of my mom's in the neighborhood I grew up in who died of cancer very suddenly leaving behind 5 children. The oldest was about my age probably 10 or so, and the twin baby girls were just 2 years old. That is about all the info that I knew first hand. The rest of it comes from stories that I had heard. She was a good friend and kind and loving and talented and loved by all who knew her, but what my mom mentioned on the phone tonight that I never realized was how young she was. Like younger than I am now. 31 or 32. Holy cannoli. I mean back when you are ten, 30 is halfway to dead. I always understood that she was "too young to die" and her loss was such a tragedy, but mostly because she left behind all those little kids and it was so sudden. She was sick and then she was gone. And I had to take pause for a moment to really think of that. And I'm not sure what to make of it. Younger than me. But more than that, is that it's been at least 20 years and my mom still cried when she read the brief little paragraph I had written. That says something about the kind of woman Maryanne was and the impact she left behind.

And then I have to wonder (and I am not looking for any kind of validation here, this is really just a little self-examination here) that since at this moment our lives are somewhat similar- nearly the same ages, with kids the same ages, and we both make the same rockin' cookies, what kind of legacy would I leave behind if I were called home suddenly? Would it be just a tragedy that I left behind four little kids, or would my death have a farther reaching impact? Something to ponder.

waiting...

It's official, I think the same bug has hit every single member of my family... except me. For the most part their symptoms have varied, but they've all had the same low-grade fever, and were better in about a day.

Nick woke up this morning with a fever and chills and a sore throat. I took him to the doctor cause I thought it was strep. It's not, which is good, because there was a time in my life when all you had to do was mention that you knew somebody who had strep, and bam! I'd get it. My dad called me Typhoid Mary. Except I think (and correct me if I'm wrong here) she was just a carrier, and never actually got sick. So not quite the same, but still. As an adult, strep is a little less frequent, but what it misses in frequency makes up for in intensity.

This evening after tutoring Madison and I stopped off at Sprouts for a few last minute things, and she was dancing around and singing and her usual cheerful self, then 20 minutes later, just as I'm putting the dinner on the table she requested, she's crying cause she feels so rotten.

So that's like 5 down and me to go. Hopefully what ever bug it is knows rule #1- mom's aren't allowed to be sick.

you should take a picture

Madison has this stuffed giraffe that she loves. Actually she loves all her stuffed animals, so it's not like this one was particularly special, but it had a hole in the seam in it's back and she was upset and wanted me to fix it. I told her to stick it in my room and I'd get around to it.

A MONTH LATER she sat in my room holding it, and with those big brown puppy dog eyes asked "have you fixed it yet?". "Fine!!" I say. "I'll do it now!" and disappear into my closet to retrieve my sewing kit. For those of you who know me well enough, it must come as some shock that I actually have a sewing kit. Necessities. Sometimes, on the rare occasion, I will see fit to sew on a button. Or perform surgery on giraffes. My sewing kit consists of a 3" x 4" white jewelry gift box with some colored thread, a needle or two, that little thingy to thread the needles, and a teeny tiny pair of scissors. And lost buttons that never made it back on shirts.

I sit on my bed and John looks over at me "What are you doing?" he asks.
"What does it look like I'm doing?"
"Wow." he says, "we should take a picture."
"You should. Scenes like this are pretty rare."
(he was too tired to get up and find the camera.- so sorry no picture of me)

Ten minutes later, the giraffe has a nice scar on it's back, and Madison is happy. I have a love seat in my bedroom that I need to fix, the pillows are attached to the back of the couch and have separated from the back due to Christopher climbing up the back to get on my bed. I'm afraid to attempt to fix it. I really don't want a giant scar glaring at me, (cause there will be one) so I just look at the hole and stuff the stuffing back in instead, then rearrange all the furniture in my room so Christopher can't use it to climb into my bed, but I am totally not in love the with new arrangement. But I hate sewing that much to do something about it.

Truth be told, sewing is one of those talents I admire in other people and wish I had. I envy people who can just "whip up" curtains or throw pillows, or pretty little dresses for little girls. I think about learning, but then I remember how much I hated home ec. in jr. high, how ugly that nightgown I made was, how sewing machines in general hate me, how fabric stores scare me, and every time I step into one, I am sure I give off some kind of aura that tells everyone that I can't sew and don't belong there. I need to figure out a way to trade caramels for upholstery mending favors. Any takers?

Update

First, a bit of an apology for some of the images I'm going to post here. They're not pretty. they're not terrible, I don't think they are particularly gag-inducing, but I never know who might not agree with me.

I'll try to ramble on for a bit, and add extra spacing just in case anyone is grossed out, then should you not want to see anything, just don't scroll down too far.

John is doing better, he's hobbling around a little bit more. The percocet was making him sick, so I went back to the pharmacy for some vicodin. That seems to work better. He's still stubborn and uses it as minimally as possible.

He went to physical therapy today and said that went pretty well. We have the best physical therapy place right by our house. I had to go there for my shoulder a little while ago.

We were able to finally change his bandages today. One thing that struck me as funny was when he took off the bandages he was surprised that there were three holes in each knee. He thought that when the doctor said "A couple of holes" he meant one per knee. I have never been very athletic, but I have had friends that were, and even I knew that arthroscopic surgery patients were left with two small scars (the third smaller one right through the knee cap surprised me though). So John is looking at his bloodied knees, "No wonder it hurts!" No kidding. Arthroscopic doesn't mean painless.

I was talking to a friend of mine about John's revelation this morning, and she was telling me how she saw video footage of the procedure, and she said they pump up the knee with a bunch of fluid, so they can move around in there and see stuff. It just looked painful.

I was going to post some pictures that the doctor gave us of the actual surgery itself, but I really don't know what I'm looking at, and so I decided it wasn't that necessary. I can now understand what they meant by the underside of his kneecap looks like a bunch of grated cheese is hanging off it, but that's about all I can tell.

Now does not my husband have the sexiest legs around? You know it's true. They write "yes" on the knee they are gonna operate on, just so they don't make a mistake. I don't know if they write "no" on the other one, cause he's got a yes on both knees. And notice the lovely iodine staining. That was under the bandaging.

a dead cow

We went to a good-bye party for some dear friends the other night. They are moving to St. George Utah this weekend, and we will miss them dearly. So we went to their house for a little gathering of their closest friends and as usual Jayson put on quite a spread. He's a professional chef, and he never disappoints. This time he had crab cakes, shrimp, chicken, and beef tenderloin amongst other stuff. At least I think it was beef tenderloin, I am only making this guess based on my education from watching Good Eats, and my faith in Jayson that he usually puts out the best. (tenderloin is top-notch beef, FYI) And wow. If it wasn't tenderloin it did a really good impression of one.

I got to take home leftovers. Merry Christmas to me. I sliced some up, had heated some up in the microwave for dinner. John was on the couch with his legs propped up, so I joined him on the couch and shared my dinner with him. We ate with our fingers. Off one paper plate. I know, classy. Nick and Madison had some too, and then Zach asked what we were eating. I hold out the plate for his inspection, and say "A dead cow. You wanna try it?" And you know what? he did! Without being coerced, he reached out, picked a piece off my plate, and stuck it in his mouth. And then eyeing the last piece on the plate, he said, "I like it. Can I have that one too?" Needless to say, he got it. If he's gonna try something new, I'm gonna encourage it.

So a few minutes later, we started FHE, and Madison was in charge of picking people to do stuff, and she kept trying to get Zach involved, but all we got out of him was "Not now! I'm eating my dead cow!"

My very long day

My day started at 5:45 this morning. Not so bad except I was up with a sick kid until nearly midnight, then slept badly because I was worried about everything I was gonna have to deal with today. So after I got up, I threw on some clothes, went and woke up Nick to tell him we were leaving and he was in charge, at which point Zach somehow managed to spill the bowl he was using to throw up in all over his bed, so I cleaned that up, then left to take John to the surgical hospital so he could have both his knees operated on.

It was just an outpatient procedure, but he elected to have both knees done at once, because with work he just didn't know when he was gonna be able to make time for a second surgery. So I dropped him off, hung out until he was called back, then raced home to check on the kids. Zach had thrown up some more, so I cleaned that up, threw his bedding into the wash, helped get Madison ready for school, and sent her off, thanked Nick again, because I had no choice but to have him skip school and stay home and babysit his pukey brother and Christopher, so I could go and pick up John. I sat in the waiting room for almost two hours, trying to read, but all the while worrying about John, and the rest of the boys. And feeling badly that Nick was missing school. Finally they came out to get me and said that John was awake and ready to go home. Everything went well with the surgeries, there were no surprises, and everyone seems pretty optimistic he should do well. So we are all feeling good about that.

Apparently he had been telling everyone on the post-op staff several times how he was going to In n Out for a cheeseburger and strawberry shake after he got out of there. He doesn't remember this, but that doesn't surprise me. He gets pretty loopy when he's on the good drugs. One time after a colonoscopy many years ago, it was Christmas time, and after he had repeated himself for the 17th time I had the best idea in the whole world. I decided to take him Christmas shopping and let him pick out his own presents and then on Christmas morning he wouldn't even remember picking them out! It didn't work. He totally was uncooperative, and just wanted to go home. Don't worry, I didn't try that again. For starters I learned my lesson, and secondly, this time he was in a lot of pain, and can barely walk. (he was totally pain free and mobile the last time)

So I dropped John off, saw him to bed, apologized to Nick because I needed to neglect his education for another hour while I ran to the store to pick up John's prescription pain meds, and some Sprite. (he asked for that twice) Also since there was an In n Out nearby I grabbed cheeseburgers and shakes. I picked myself up a coke to keep myself going, but while I was taking care of John, Christopher claimed it as his own and wouldn't share it with me. ( I forgot to get him a drink)

After taking Nick to school, (with only two hours left) and making sure everyone was okay, I laid down for a few minutes, but totally passed out (cause I didn't get my stinking coke!), only to be woken up by John standing at the bottom of the stairs yelling for me (I know! I know! I feel bad about that!)because I guess Madison had fallen down while chasing boys at recess, and turned her ankle or something and was whining in the nurse's office, so I needed to go down to the school and take her some Tylenol so she'd go back to class.

The kids came home shortly, and I had Nick babysit again while I took Madison to her tutoring lesson, then stole some time to myself and did a bit of Christmas shopping because her tutor is near a mall, and it would be ridiculous to try and come home for 10 minutes anyway. Luckily we had leftovers from last night and the night before so I didn't have to cook. That and only a few of us have appetites at all.

But at the end of the day, we are all doing well, or better anyway. Zach has been keeping stuff down for several hours now, and John made it up the stairs to our room so we don't have to sleep in the guest room. Of course he is the "Mr. tough guy" so it probably hurts more than he's letting on, and I'm gonna have to force some percocet down his throat in a minute here. They say he should be walking on his own (without crutches) by the end of the week. (but most people only get one knee done at a time.) They had to shave both his knees- mid thigh to mid calf. Supposedly the itchiness from all that hair regrowth is supposed to be just as bad as the pain from the surgery itself. I imagine it will be, he's got some pretty hairy legs.

Confessions

Confession #1- I can be stubborn. I don't like change. I fight it tooth and nail, or passive-aggressively, whichever suits my purpose best. Like with technology. I am slow to embrace new technology because the old works just fine, thank you very much. Even though, time and time again, I wonder how I ever got along without it in the first place.

Confession #2- I walked into an Apple store for the first time today, and I liked it. I have fought the presence of Apple in my life for as long as I can remember, with the exception of downloading a few songs from itunes. (cause I got a free gift card) I remember being in high school, and being really irritated that the computer lab had macs, because they were stupid and didn't work like my PC and they were stupid, and I didn't like them, and people who said things like "I love Macs! They are so easy to use!" really irritated me, and I wouldn't sit by them even though they could probably help me figure things out, but that was the point, I didn't want to figure those things out, I liked my PC thank you very much, and I wanted nothing to do with Macs. And then later on, when I worked at customer service at a store that sold computer software, and Mac owners would come in and act like it was the store's fault because they couldn't read the box to see that the software was for PC's and not Macs, and when they opened the box and tried to run the PC software on their machine and it wouldn't work, they were irritated about it. Well, that was just fuel for my fire that if Apple wanted to be exclusive and a pain about it, and not play with the other kids, and any mac users I ran into at this point still irritated me, then I wanted nothing to do with them. But I broke down today, and swallowed my pride and stepped into a store. And talked to a salesperson. And made a couple purchases. And couldn't be happier about it. It was easy, and they were nice, and although I probably bought some of the cheapest merchandise in the store, not once did they try to convince me I needed something more expensive, and he promised that their stuff will work with my PC at home, and I tried not to look at the pretty new ipods, because my walkman works perfectly well, thank you very much.

We're Expecting

No, it's not what you think, but we are talking about babies here. Yesterday the kids came running in to tell me they found a praying mantis on our "Yes on 102" sign in our front yard.And then I got a closer look.

It's little bum was working pretty hard, and then I started wondering what exactly are those grayish-brown things behind it, and then I decided that it was laying eggs.And yes, when I went out to check it out this morning, the mama was gone, but the eggs are still there. We're pretty excited, praying mantis' are supposed to be good for your yard, but voting is over on Tuesday, and I have no idea how long it takes those babies to hatch. I think we're going to have to transplant the sign to the backyard. I'll keep my eyes open, and if I happen to witness any further miracles of life, I'll be sure to take a picture.

Halloween 2008

The kids all had a great time this Halloween. This year Nick was the Greek God Apollo- It was pretty much assigned to him for a Social Studies Project- On Halloween day the 6th graders did a "wax museum" thing where they dressed up as a character from Roman, Greek, or Egyptian mythology, and they had to dress up and memorize a part to say when other school kids came through their classrooms. Nick's costume was pretty much a white sheet, some safety pins and a length of rope, the sheet was too big, and I think he looked a bit more like Socrates than Apollo. When he went trick-or-treating I just told him to tell people that's what he was.

Madison wanted to be Wilbur from Charlotte's Web. They've been reading that at school, and she just loves the book. I made the nose since the store-bought ones kept breaking.
Zach wanted to be a skeleton, and I didn't feel like running around from store to find a skeleton costume, and I was already feeling pretty crafty after that nifty nose I made, so instead I went running around from store to store looking for white contact paper to cut bones out of. Unfortunately by the time we had our ward's trunk or treat, (a week before Halloween) I still had found no contact paper so we went with the punk look and safety pinned poster-board bones to his black sweats. A friend of mine lent me some skeleton gloves, which he was super excited about but wore them for exactly 15 minutes. I found white contact paper by Halloween, and was up way too late cutting out his bones the night before. As far as a finished product goes, this is the best it gets. As a side note, if anyone needs any white contact paper, I have plenty. I finally found it at Home Depot. We figured Christopher could be Steve from Blue's Clues, since we already had the green striped shirt left over from when Nick was 2 1/2. We figured that would be a nice (free) costume, that he would probably love over anything else anyway, so that's what he was. However, the costume wouldn't be complete without an authentic Handy Dandy Notebook, and were able to locate one on e-bay (what on Earth did we ever do before e-bay?) so our cheapest costume became the most expensive one with the addition of one little prop. He however loves that thing and carries it with him all day long, and asks me numerous times a day to adjust the coil on the top because it tends to unwind itself, and he needs equal amounts of red plastic coil sticking out on either side of the notebook. (OCD anyone?) As I mentioned earlier, last week was the ward's trunk or treat, and Christopher wasn't much interested in collecting any candy as he was running around and into the parking lot. I spent my time chasing him. Then after the trunk or treat they had a chili contest and a dance floor, I was able to try a bit of the chili, but once again spent most of my time chasing him around. The other kids said they had fun though.

On Halloween night, our neighborhood had a little get together at the neighborhood park for some chili and rolls for dinner. We brought homemade root beer. I started making this 2 years ago for Halloween when I had to make some for Nick's class Halloween party. We serve it up in our front yard to the trick-or-treaters (along with store bought, prepackaged candy) who want something to drink (and know us and trust us). The dry ice is always a hit, even if people are wary of taking a drink from strangers. This year I was able to purchase the dry ice easily, but between John and I we went to seven stores to find the root beer concentrate. John finally found it at the third Wal-Mart we tried. The kids had a good time, Nick went off with some friends, I went around with the younger three, John stayed home and passed out candy. Christopher didn't mutter a single word the entire time, but held on to that bucket for dear life.