A Public Service Announcement

We will now demonstrate how to not get stuck in our scary stairs and have to live there forever for the rest of your life:

First- relax.  There is no need for panic.

 You will be unable to pull your big giant noggin straight back through- it will not fit.

 You will need to turn your head to the side and gently pull it back out.

This concludes our announcement.

You're welcome.

A strange feeling

Dan's dad has been in the hospital since last Saturday.  At first, they thought it was pneumonia.  Then they thought it wasn't. 

And then they thought it was a staph infection, and then it only grew in one of their cultures, so then they thought it wasn't.  Which is good and bad- because although he doesn't have the actual Staph infection, it is there somewhere between the needle, his blood and the petry dish. 

Then they worried that the cancer was ravaging his bones.  But after a bone scan, they found it wasn't.

So then they worried about the tumors in his lungs, but after a CT scan, they decided they weren't the issue.

And today?  They still don't have a clue.  But they are sending more blood to other hospitals and calling an infectious disease doctor. 

He's running a low fever off and on.  His oxygen levels drop very low when he tries to move.  And he feels cruddy.

And I'm afraid.  I suppose it hit me yesterday that his body might not be able to fight hard enough for long enough- and what if this stupid disease wins?  What if it takes away the only grandfather that my children will ever remember?  What if this is the year that grief will settle back into our family?  What if Lew passing was just a way for the Lord to help my children begin to understand death, because He knew that Dan's dad was going to be next?  What if I never get to play cards and tease this man again?  What if he never asks me if I like seafood again in my life?  What if....................his end is almost here?

I have to push this from my mind.  I can't handle it today.  Thanks for letting me dump it all out here.

Sweets and Flowers

 Over the weekend, my beautiful Daisy turned into a Brownie.

 It's this fancy girlscout thing where they 'bridge' up to the next level of scouts.  Why on earth she became a girlscout brownie instead of a cookie is beyond me.

Either way- its a girlscout conspiracy to generate more revenue by making families buy multiple vests/sashes over the course of their lives.  See- Daisys wear the blue one, the one which I have already painstakingly sewn on 247 individual patches.  Brownies wear the brown one.  But being a former girlscout myself, I am trickier than they are.  Forgoing my original plan to just give her Allyson's brownie vest, I decided to go ahead and fork over the cold hard cash for the new vest and 23 patches that it required.  But instead of hours with needle and thread?  Hot Glue Gun.  Worked beautifully.

And Emily didn't even know the difference.

Dog People

When Lewis died, we all knew that we would get another dog.  It was just a matter of when.  And what kind.  The possibilities were endless.  Would we get another beagle?  A hypoallergenic Shitzu?  One of those cute little terriers?  Something tiny I could put in a special purse?  Something huge that could pull a sled?  Endless possibilities.

 None of which included this dog.  This ugly ugly ugly dog.  Lord help me, that is one UGLY dog.

She has been running the neighborhood for a few days.  One morning she was in our back yard.  I finally conceeded and told the kids to put out a bowl of water for her- in my defense it was soooo hot and she was just running around frantic and there was not a drip of water anywhere.

We had an engagement early Saturday morning and as we pulled out of the neighborhood, she was running around at the end of the street. Which meant she was moving on to wider horizons- perfect.  As we got back home, Allyson said "If we see that dog again today I'm going to take it as a sign from God".  I kid you not, as we rounded the corner to our home, that dog was sitting square in the middle of our front freakin' yard.

She was timid and guarded and wouldn't let anyone near her.  I told the kids to leave her be and Emily and I left for a birthday party she had that afternoon.

 By the time we got back, two short hours later, the dog had a name, a collar and was in our back yard playing with a tennis ball with the kids.

 Shortly after she got a bath and an invitation into our house.

Although we have run ads and put up flyers and notified local vet offices, something tells me that this ugly ugly ugly dog is now a Goble.  Rosie Goble.

I guess I'll never outgrow this

I have never felt any more unprepared to be a parent than I do right this minute.  Which confirms that being a young mom was never the problem, since I am not exactly that anymore.  Although seasoned with a few extra years, I still lack the confidence and knowledge to know that I CAN successfully care for these three small beings.

I feel so very discouraged.

Reasons I love my husband

 Most weeks, Dan is in charge of creating the kids weekly commission charts- which is just a Dave Ramsey fancy name for chore list.  This week, he hung them with electrical tape- which is a step up from Duct Tape, so I thank him for that.

 Our refrigerator has this super fancy schmancy canned soda holding device.  It hangs off of the bottom shelf and is a nice spot to put up to like 8 sodas and not loose a single bit of shelf room.  My husband crams the sodas sideways ontop of the food and then puts his leftover restaurant take out containers in the soda holder.

Recently Dan aquired shorts as part of his work uniform.  Unlike the rest of his uniforms that get sent to some magical place where they wash, mend and press them for him- these have to come home to be washed.  I agreed, because I am like the most angelic perfect wife ever, to wash these for him.  Afterward, I showed him where they were and asked where he would like to keep them.  As in, where were they going to be stored in his closet or dresser.  They haven't moved from the top of my dresser all week.

And the last one- I have not a single picture for.  However, I am the balancer of our finances (Dan is the earner of our finances, so this seems fair).  However, it is more often times like my own personal Easter Egg Hunt only ends with tears and arguing instead of candy filled eggs.  Because Dan most generally used to (he's gotten better) not tell me when he used the debit card.  Then, I would get the pleasure of logging into our account and line by line sorting through the transactions to see what all had cleared.......and what all I was missing.

One particular day I found two transactions to a grocery type store that were within pennies of each other on the same day around the same time.  I had one of them entered- I had gone grocery shopping that morning.  I remember because Dan was home and the kids stayed with him and I went there all alone.  Which doesn't happen very often, that is why I remember it so well.  So I asked him if he happened to have run to the same.exact.store while I was there and buy almost exactly what I did.  He responded no.

The next week, I had to take all three kids to the bank, wait for a banker person, and fill out a form disputing the transaction.  The gal said more than likely it was just an accident and they would probably re-deposit the money before the bank had to contact them.  But she credited our account right then until it was settled.

A week later, they took the money right back out.

Back to the bank I went with all three kids again on a perfectly gorgeous summer day and marched right back into her office.  She pulled the file, read for a long time, looked on her computer for a long time, called another gal in, re read the file, and then explained that apparently the second charge was on Dan's card at the fuel center.  So it wasn't a duplicate at all.

Imagine if you will how COMPLETELY stupid I felt.  And how upset I was to have wasted not ONE but TWO trips to the bank............and this poor womans time...........when Dan just 'forgot' to log a gas receipt.  One that I even asked him directly about, and he still claimed ignorance.

I'm just glad that I don't have strange quirky things that I do to make him crazy.

*disclaimer:  He really is a great husband- even if he misuses construction supplies and couldn't balance a checkbook on his big toe.

And then there were none

 After the girls buses were long gone and lunch time was looming- it was time to deliver my favorite little man for his first day of elementary.

 He had a difficult time deciding which brand spankin new monster truck t-shirt and pair of stretch shorts to wear.  Obviously he wouldn't do anything crazy like wear a golf shirt, because those are for church.  Duh.

 He was ready. I was not.

 The tears started filling my eyes around 30 minutes before he was due to be dropped off and eventually couldn't be disguised by my sunglasses anymore.  He asked why I was crying.  I explained that I was just so happy (which was a flat out LIE). 

 We pulled up and I told him it was time that he could get out and without hesitation he kissed his momma, jumped out and began running with the other little boys.  He didn't turn back, he didn't look over his shoulder, he was off and didn't have a care in the world.

I began counting down the time till the bus would bring them all back home. 

I know my job of parenting is far from over.  But I feel such a loss that it makes my eyes sting just to think about it.  Because all of my children are in school now.  And the pre-school years of my life is slamming shut.  All done.  And for a woman who spent her entire childhood looking forward to raising babies, it feels like there isn't much left to hang on to right now.  Other than waiting for the bus to bring my kids back home so that I can tell them to quit fighting, touching, poking and complaining about their dinner.

I feel kind of empty.