Flat Zac at Big Country Balloon Fest

Flat Isaac is already getting around! Pics From Big Country Balloon Fest in Abilene, TX

Deals Done in the Loo

Yesterday, I got a call from a gastroenterologist at a major pediatric hospital here in town. He had a problem celiac patient that he wanted to refer to me. Now, I shall hereafter refer to this doctor as Dr. Blip, because he did all this on the sly. You see, they have their own dietitians, so, you know, gotta be careful and all that. But, really, I mostly just like writing the word, "Dr. Blip".

Anyway, Dr. Blip calling me was a MAJOR event. To insure that it didn't get messed up by screaming in the background, I took the necessary precautions...go upstairs, and lock the bedroom door (that should keep 'em out!) Dr. Blip and I were talking, things were rocking right along, he was giving me patient info over the phone, I was doing my utmost to sound smart and professional.

From my non-phone ear, I heard an altercation downstairs between Seth and Blane. These occur at 5-minute intervals at our house (I'm almost not exaggerating that much when I say that). I could hear the crying coming closer. So I ran to our bathroom and shut the door (still talking to Dr. Blip).

Now we have no lock on the master bathroom door, of course. I knew that at minimum, Blane would start banging on the bedroom door. More probably, he would rotate the keyhole with his finger and open the door on his own. At that point, I would have to hold the bathroom door shut with one hand.

The worst scenario came true. He breeched the bedroom door and started for the bathroom. He was pulling on the door and crying, "MOOOOOOMMMMM....MOOOOOOOMMMMMM!"

Dr. Blip was in the middle of a fascinating sidebar about a new blood test for celiac. All this while I was barring the door with all my might against a 4 year old and praying the doctor didn't hear the commotion.

Dr. Blip seemed to be unfazed and I did my sales pitch...love to come see you...drop off my referral pads...etc. He laughed a bit and told me in so many words that the situation was a bit delicate for him and he'd call me when he needed me. I was happy with that. Blane still was not.

After I got off the phone, I held Blane and told him he could NOT come in when the door was locked. Ah, the perils of conducting business at home!

Blane's Bad Day

On Friday, I went to a preschool playgroup at church. Blane knew most of the kids and was excited to play with his friends.

We moms were standing around talking when suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a look on Blane's face. The frowny-face, about-to-cry-but-trying-desparately-not-to face. He had been playing with cars very nicely with his friend Grace up to this point. He ran over to my leg and buried his head in it, bursting into tears.

I took him out of the room. "Blane," I said, "what happened?"

He cried for a little while and then managed to sob out the word, "Grace..."

I could not get out of him what exactly happened or what Grace did. I guessed that probably she took his car, but he was too inconsolable to tell me which one. Before long, Grace ran off to play with something else.

(It's always awkward when one of your friend's kids does something to yours. Grace has always been sweet to the Blane in the past. But, they're kids, and things happen...it's not like my kids haven't been grabby before.)

You would think that Grace running off to play with something else would solve the problem. But, you would be wrong.

He just wanted to pout and be sad. Nothing looked fun. I saw him about 10 minutes later slumped in a chair in the play kitchen table, looking like a Dust Bowl mother. The sorrow and isolation continued for half an hour until it was time to go home.

"Mom, I'm having a bad day," he said as we went out to the car.

Apparently, this incident really cut his feelings. I explained that sometimes we have bad days sometimes, but that it gets better.

"Sometimes, girls don't share?" he asked, in that unique way Blane has of confirming great truths of the universe by phrasing them in a question to me.

"Sometimes they don't. Sometimes our friends don't act right, and I'm sorry you are sad. I'm sure it will be better the next time you play. If she takes something, then just come tell me what happened, and we will make sure that everyone plays right."

He was sad all the way home. I asked him if watching a "3-2-1 Penguins" episode would help. He said it would. And it worked.

Lunch with Zacky

Zac asked me to eat lunch with him on Monday. I couldn't come because of Seth, but instead, went today. Zac was so proud to have us (me & B) there. We got to sent at a central table instead of with his class, and Ben, Zac's best friend, sat with us.

The last time I went to eat lunch with one of my children (hint: it was not Zac), I was ignored while the monkey antics went into full swing. This time, we three actually had a conversation, though it went something like this:

Ben: Isaac, do you like hot dogs?

Zac: I can't have hot dogs.

Me (nudging him): Yes you can; you just can't have the bread part.

Zac: Oh, yeah. Not really.

Ben: Isaac, do you like chicken?

Zac: No, I think it's tasteless.

Ben: I think it's tasteless too, unless it has a coating on it.

Me: Zac, even with a coating on it, you don't like chicken.

Zac: (grin)

This went on for several more food items and restaurants. Then, the talk turned to movies.

Ben: Isaac, have you ever seen anything PG-13?

Zac: I don't know.

Me: Well, you saw some of Star Wars: Episode III

Zac: Yeah, I saw Episode III

Ben: I saw the whole thing. But the last part was pretty scary so I had to close my eyes. But I still liked it. The last part was gross.

More 9 year old boy conversation followed. It was pretty cute.

Seth is now wanting me to go to lunch with him. I feign slight offense and tell him that the last time I ate with him he ignored me. He insists he won't do that this time!

We'll see...I might just have to go for the conversation.

Seth is better

Are you surprised?

Swing voter

Seth said today, "Mom, do you know why I'm voting for John McCain?"

I never knew they had lowered the voting age to 7. "Why, Seth?"

"Well, if he wins, he will smash some records."

This I had to hear. "What records, Seth?"

"Well," Seth began, "if he wins, he'll be the oldest guy to be president."

True. "What other records will he smash?"

"And, if he dies, we'll have the first guhrl president."

Also true.

"He'll smash some other records, but I don't know what they are. Zac could tell me. But that's why I'm voting for John McCain."

I'll bet Mac wishes other undecideds were this easy to impress.

Seth is sick

Seth complained of a stomachache last night and he still had it this morning when he woke up. I kept him home today, but he still seems remarkably perky for a sick person. I told him he had to stay on the couch today and no friends. So far, he's complying. He did eat a bit less than normal today, so I don't think it's completely imaginary. If he gets too rambunctious, I'll threaten him with returning him to school.

MMQB's

We went to our Life Group last night and Scott and several of the men ate downstairs in front of the big screen TV, watching the end of the Broncos game (they won, BTW). I have a feeling this will be standard MO this fall for the men in our group.

Anyway, talk at the breakfast table this morning centered around football stats. Scott told me last night that Zac was reeling off his own statistics during the game yesterday. For example: "Dad, by this point in the season last year, the Broncos were 1 and 2, and the Patriots were 3 and 0" (NOTE: I made those stats up. I have no ideas what they really were...but Zac does--so ask him for the correct ones). Scott was amazed he could remember that stuff. I can think of a time when I could remember countless facts too, but that was back before birthing children eroded my grey matter. But...back to the table talk. Zac was discussing the current standings. "The Bills, the Broncos and maybe the Cowboys, are all undefeated," Zac was saying (again, don't hold me to the accuracy of that statement...reduced grey matter and all...) Then I hear this little voice, "What about the Packers?"

I turned around in amazement. "Zac," I said, "did Blane just say that?"

He grinned and said, "Yes."

Ai-yi-yi. Is this how early football mania sets in? I'm sure he was just parroting what he heard, but still...I guess I'd better get used to the fact that during Sunday afternoons in the fall, I'll be on my own. Actually, that sounds pretty good...

MOPS

Blane and I've been going to MOPS this fall--Mothers of Preschoolers. It's a national Christian-based organization, sort of like a social club or support group with a spiritual bent. Anyway, we're part of one at a community church in Olathe, not far from our church. Several of my friends at church are in it, so I decided to try it out. Blane needed some kind of extra social activity, and I don't want to do preschool now.

Blane has loved MOPS since the first day and has been asking when we were going back. Today was the second meeting (they meet bimonthly during the school year). Blane had been talking since the first day about this huge stoplight posted in the stairwell in the kids wing of the church. Today when I opened the door to the stairs, he stared at that stoplight with great uncertainty. "Blane," I said, "Are you scared?"

"No." The voice was not convincing.

"Do you want me to hold your hand when we go down the stairs?"

"Okay." He has shaken himself out of his spook by the time we made it to the bottom floor.

I've been having a great time in the mom's section...we have brunch together, a speaker on a preschool related topic, prayer and discussion time and sometimes a craft. The women are warm and friendly, and it's been a real pleasure to be around them. One of the women is 28 and undergoing chemo for breast cancer. I signed up to take her a meal later this month. Her story has been so inspirational, to see her living out faith in such a raw way. The MOPS moms have really surrounded her with support.

Anyway, I think MOPS will be a blessing to both Blane and me. I knew Blane would love it, but I didn't know I would too!

Ike

I talked to Dad tonight--they cut their Colorado trip short because of Ike. Dad said the house was fine, but Longview won't have power until Friday, and they'll be even longer in getting it back. Of course, Dad had the trusty old generator to fall back on, but all it powers is the freezer, fridge and one light. NO EMAIL! THE HORROR! It's like campin' out in your house.

One of my friends here is from Orange, TX, down near Sabine Pass, where the Sabine drains into the Gulf. It was hit especially hard by flooding. Temple said that her family told her there fish were stranded in the chain link fences, five feet of water in her mom's house and a carp and snakes swimming in her dad's house. She's going to try to get away in the next few days to help with cleanup.

Kansas ain't lookin' too bad right now. At least when we hear the sirens (like we did last Friday), we can casually turn on the TV, practically break out the popcorn and watch the weathermen pinpoint the exact location of the twister. Hurricanes? Yikarooskies.

Dry guy

He made it and earned his hot rod. I think Blane's only had one wet night since. See ya, Pull Ups.

Science and Flag Test

Zacko got 101% on his science test (ask him about plants) and took his test today on the flag. He thinks he missed one, but made it up by answering the extra credit question. Great job, Zac!

Seth's Teacher

Yesterday, on the way home from school, Seth said, "Mom, I'm always the fuhst one to get my mohning wohrk done."

"Seth," I replied, "maybe you should spend more time on it to make sure you are doing a good job. Are you getting it done first because you are racing or because it is easy?"

"It's easy," he sniffed.

When we got home from church on Wednesday night, there was a message from Seth's teacher, Mrs. Owens. Just a routine call, she explained on the voice mail, to all the students parents to update them on their kid's progress.

I called her back. I couldn't wait to hear what she was going to say.

She was just as nice as could be. "Seth's doing great," she said. He is reading quite well. She built Seth up with several positive compliments, but I could tell she was headed towards something. "Seth needs to slow down a little bit with his work." I almost laughed. and told her what he said. "Yes, Seth is very excitable," I replied. I think she was a tad relieved that I didn't get defensive. (it wasn't like she was telling me something I didn't know--this kid came out of the womb looking for a party). She said there was a little group of boys who have been rather lively (guess who's in that pack?) but she's been working them. She even has her answer to Mrs. Ellis' errands--HALL PASSES, and lots of them. Seth is always being sent on little trips to "help out". "They are 6 and 7 years old, and it's hard for them to stay still for a long time," she said (thank the Lord for a teacher who understands little boys!) She also told me that Seth's hand shoots up for every question (guess he knows everything). The school OT is making a weighted pencil for Seth to help him with his writing. His fine motor skills are okay, but could use some honing, as his hand trembles when he focuses on writing, drawing or any small motor task that requires concentration.

All in all, our Sethie is doing a great job in school, just like Zac. I look forward to the October conferences to get more details from the boys' school years.

Royal (dreams) Flush(ed)

Seth is something else. But you knew that already. He is fun, creative, expressive, emoting and jolly...but his all-heart personality has its struggles from time to time.

When my parents were here, Seth had a cold. Nothing terrible, but enough to get him snotty and coughing from the drainage. I sent him to school that Monday because he didn't seem to feel very bad. I got a call mid-day from the nurse. Seth was complaining of a stomachache and was sitting in her office. I headed up there.

I could tell from Seth's eyes when I walked in the nurses office that he didn't feel good. So I signed him out and we went home. I told Seth that coming home from school was a big deal and if we were going to do this, he was going to be in bed or at least resting for the rest of the day (hey, we can't be doing this every week!) He agreed, and spent most of the afternoon on the couch watching a cartoons (1 hour) or reading, his barf pot at his side. Towards late afternoon, he was feeling significantly better.

Now, Uncle Michael and Aunt Pammy had given us four tickets for a Royals game that night. Originally, Scott, my dad and the older two boys were going to go. But Scott called me from work, sick with Seth's cold, and told me he didn't feel up to going. Of course, Seth was now out of commission, and I had to attend Back to School Night that evening to get info from the boys teachers. So, as it turned out, my mom and dad were going to take Zac to the game.

I left for BTSN and called my mom on the way there to discuss the plan for exchanging cars, since I had left before Scott got home. Mom told me that Seth wanted to talk to me about going to the Royals Game.

"I told him you would say no," she said to me.

"Put him on," I replied.

"Mom," came the little munchkin voice, "I'm feeling much better. Can I PLEASE go to the Royals game?"

I explained to Seth again the little deal we had made.

One thing I hate about cell phones is the awful feedback you sometimes get. Unfortunately, Seth and I were experiencing some feedback. He began to plead in a louder voice,"PLEASE MOM! I'm feeling MUCH BETTER!!" I said no several more times, but it was difficult for him to hear me as he escalated, pleading frantically. Embarrassing too...there I was in front of the school saying "SETH!" loudly into the phone because he couldn't even hear me over his own hysterics. Finally he hung up on me in great sorrow (not disrespectfully--he doesn't know that's a rude thing to do). My mom said he wailed outside for about 10 minutes.

He got over it. But hopefully, he'll use his sick passes carefully and sparingly for the rest of the year.

Dry nights

The other morning, Blane woke up with dry pull-ups. Words cannot describe how excited I was, given my genetics. Figuring this was my big shot, I told him he could earn a hot rod if he stayed dry five nights. Later, I added more incentive by telling him I would get him a little car for every night up to five that he was dry.

He was a man motivated. The first morning he burst into our bedroom at 4:30am to announce that he was dry! We told him to go back to bed, but of course, made a big deal about it come morning. He earned cars, and we got up to four nights by yesterday, the eve of the big hot-rod debut.

I was consigning clothes yesterday with my friend who is running a big kids' sale at the Holiday Inn in Olathe. I took Blane out there with me, and while I was hanging up the clothes, Blane found a white hot-rod in the toys section. He slobbered over it for a while, then obediently put it back when it was time to go. So of course, when I went back last night for the pre-sale, I picked that sucker up (it was only a $1). I went home and told him this was the hot-rod he would get if he stayed dry one more night. He excitedly placed it on his dresser by the Hummer, so he could look at it, even if he couldn't play with it.

Well, excitement has a way of distracting people, and Blane was no different. He forgot to go to the bathroom before bed. I heard him sobbing in the bathroom this morning and knew what had happened. Poor baby! I hugged him and told him that I'm sure he would be dry tonight. He was so brokenhearted that he wouldn't get his hot-rod today! It took some steeling to keep from handing him that car. But he has to earn it.

Look for the hot rod update soon...

Fur shaver

Several weeks ago, Blane asked me about Scott's razor.

"What does that do?" I asked.

Promptly he answered, "It cuts off daddy's fur!"

Grampy

It's been a while, but most of you know what's been going on around here. We had a visit from Mom and Dad towards the end of August, and Grampy, Scott's grandfather, passed away on August 26. Things have been busy to say the least!

About Grampy... this was the "first death" for the kids--you know, someone they actually had seen and knew. Of course, what they knew mostly was Grampy in his wheelchair at the nursing home. Grampy lived 91 years, and had Alzheimer's for about the past 9 of those. The boys weren't around for any of the cogent part of his life. Nevertheless, I think Grampy, in their minds, was an old, sweet grandpa who didn't say much, but was comfortingly there in the background when they visited Nana and Papa. He handed out hats and had a remote-controlled pig. Not a bad way to remember your great grandfather.

Shortly after we learned about his passing I picked the boys up from school. I had let Zac know the day before that he was soon to die. When I told the guys, Seth was sweetly distressed for a few minutes. "He died?" he said compassionately. I explained that he was very old and sick, and now he was in heaven with Jesus. Later, Blane--who always processes things by asking numerous questions--asked if we were going to get a new Grampy.

Funeral and visitation were held here. The visitation was very well attended. We took the boys up to the casket and let them look at him for a bit. I don't know what they thought of him. To me, even the nicest prepared body never looks quite right. But...the person isn't there any more. Maybe it's best that way.

The guys handled that fine and ended up playing quietly in a pew with their third cousin Ian.

For the funeral on Saturday, Scott had prepared some remarks on behalf of the grandchildren. The plan was for me to stay in the back of the church auditorium with Seth and Blane, who we seriously doubted could make it through the funeral without loud whispering or fidgeting. Zac sat up front with the family.

Scott had a lovely address, as did Mack, Gram and Grampy's oldest son. We drove out to the cemetary on a flawless summer day--bright sunshine, no clouds, perfect temperature. My tears came at the 12 gun salute (I had to cover Blane's ears) and the presentation to the widow of the folded flag.

We finished the weekend with the extended family and had a beautiful time. Ironically, there is often no more sweeter time for family fellowship than funerals. At the end, we took a picture of the family, 30 strong.

This week, Blane prayed at dinner. It went something like this:

"Dear God,
Thank you that we had a good day today,
Thank you for the food.
Thank you that Grampy doesn't have to die anymore.
Thank you that we are having cornbread.

In Jesus name, Amen"