Birthday, Part 2

A week ago Friday I turned 33. I'm still in a bit of a shock as to how that number could climb so high so quickly, but I still looked forward to the day. It was my precious day off. A day free of preparing meals, changing diapers, wiping up spills, entertaining children, and folding laundry. It also became the day that harvest started. Which brought my day off to a screeching halt.

That evening I went to the fields to see how things were going. My husband gave me an "I'm so sorry" look and immediately said, "This doesn't count as your birthday. I'm going to give you a new one."

He immediately won the husband of the year award.

Saturday was my new birthday. He cooked all the meals, cleaned up the kitchen, swept the floor, folded the laundry, and took care of the kids. I actually felt a little guilty getting up from the table and watching him do all the work while I continued with whatever leisure activity I was enjoying. But not guilty enough to do anything about it.

It truly was the best gift I could have received.

At the end of the day he looked at me wearily and said, "It sure would have been a whole lot easier to go to the store and pick out a present for you."

Quote of the Day

Here is my latest favorite quote. It occured this morning while my 5 YO was in his room crying during a timeout.

2 YO: "Mommy, is he consequencing?"

Things I Learned During Harvest

It is OVER! Seven days of cutting wheat and they got it all in, right before the rain hit. I can honestly say this was the most stressful harvest I have experienced, but it is all behind us now. Here are some things I learned this week.

• Keeping a child OUT of the wheat field is much harder than finding time to take him there to experience it. Add in one brother and five cousins who continually want to go to the field, and the task is even more difficult.
• Lollipops from the Co-op are better than any you can buy in the store.
• A combine broken down from 4:00 p.m. to midnight can actually be a bonding experience for a father, son, son-in-law, and grandson.
• Mosquitoes have no respect for bug repellent.
• God was sharing His great sense of humor when he designed green beans to be ready at the exact same time as the wheat.
• Sixteen rows of green beans will feed a family of six, a family of four, and a family of two for an entire year.
• It takes approximately four hours for one person to pick 16 rows of beans.
• It is very painful if you miss a spot when applying sunscreen.
• You can actually get a blister on your thumb if you stem enough beans.
• Snakes like the garden.
• I still don't like snakes.
• Swimming lessons during harvest isn't such a great idea.
• Storms on the first day of swimming lessons is actually a good thing. It makes every day after that look so much better than the first day.
• My child is capable of taking swimming lessons without crying. He was actually sad when they were over. And he acquired enough "skill" to pass level 1.
• We have established a new definition of exhausted at this house. It involves much whining and crying. In the kids, too.

The Plan

The doctor said, "We need to do allergy testing".
I said, "Okay."

The doctor said, "Keep breathing treatment supplies on hand."
I said, "Okay, write me a script."

The doctor said, "Keep steroids on hand."
I said, "Okay, write me a script."

The doctor said, "Give him Claratin once a day. Here's some samples."
I said, "Okay, that's better than a script."

The doctor said, "Keep him away from all combines, wheat trucks, wheat fields..."
I said, "Okay, it looks like he's moving in with you."

Pressing PAUSE On Life

The time has come once again when life as we know it ceases to exist and our world revolves around combines, wheat trucks, wheat fields, and the weather. This year we have added a few extra components to shake up the monotony of harvest: the emergency room, breathing treatments, Claratin, and steroids.

Saturday evening the kids dove into the harvest activities: combine rides, hauling the wheat to town, and playing in the wheat truck. Our son had not been in the truck even 30 minutes when he started coughing and sounding "not quite right". My sister-in-law (a nurse) listened to him and said we probably should get him home and do a breathing treatment. Huh? My child has no known allergies, no history of asthma, nothing.

I opted for grandma's (also a nurse - former emergency room manager) assistance over taking him home by myself. She listened to him, frowned, listened again, and thought we needed to take him in. I don't argue with medical people.

Three hours later we had been treated, x-rayed, and sent home with plenty of meds. I'm still a bit in shock that my son - who has experienced five harvests, plenty of combine rides, lots of time in the wheat, and LIVES in a wheat field - has suddenly developed an allergy? Technically, the verdict is still out on that since an official diagnosis can't be done in the ER, but something is definitely going on.

As soon as my pediatrician decides to return from his extensive vacation, we'll figure out what the plan of action is. In the mean time, I have a husband living in the fields, a 2 YO begging to go to the fields, and a 5 YO crying because he can't.

How many weeks until school starts?

Best Birthday Gift Ever

My husband and I aren't big gift givers. We don't typically exchange gifts at Christmas, birthdays, or other holidays unless one of us REALLY needs or wants something. Sometimes it's a drag (for me - he could care less), but usually it's okay and a good way to save time and money. We both despise wandering aimlessly for hours trying to find that perfect gift for someone when we have no idea what to get them.

But this year my husband picked the best gift of all. He told me he was taking off work for my birthday and I could have the day off. He's taking care of the kids, he's fixing all the meals, and I can do whatever I want to ALL DAY LONG. It's great. I'm thinking we should start celebrating 1/2 birthdays...and 1/4 birthdays....

Unfortunately, there is one glitch.

HARVEST. It looks like they are going to start cutting this afternoon.

I know, I need to grow up, be an adult, and realize this is just another day in the year. Maybe someday I'll grow up, but for now, I'm going to "stop" my birthday when he heads out to the fields and redeem the rest of my birthday present after harvest is over.

All day means ALL DAY, right?

Okay, Okay, I'll work on growing up.

Same Song, Second (or Third...or Fourth...) Verse

It's swimming lesson time again. When my oldest son was 2, we put him in a "floaters" class at the local pool. He did fine - as long as the lifeguard was holding him. When he was 3, we did private lessons. He did fine - as long as he didn't have to put his face in the water, blow bubbles, or anything that may result in getting wet above his chest. His fabulous swim teacher moved away, so when he was 4 we tried the local public pool. He did....well, he cried a lot and baffled his 14 year old lifeguard teachers. After three days I pulled him. A very gracious person offered to give him private lessons once again. He cried a lot once again.

This year I was fortunate enough to get him into a great program at an indoor pool here in town. We talked it up, he was ready, even relatively excited...until yesterday hit with a fury of rain, thunder, and lightening. The first day of swimming lessons consisted of him standing off to the side of the group sobbing because "I saw lightening, I know I did!"

Day two of lessons dawned bright and sunny, because the good Lord knew I could only take so much. Miraculously, my son also had a good attitude about lessons today because it wasn't storming. The kids marched into the water and started bobbing up and down and blowing bubbles.

It wasn't long before I confirmed what I already suspected: I have a special needs swimmer. I'm a special ed teacher, so no slam whatsoever intended by that comment. I fully understand when kids need to be taught in a smaller group, different way, or whatever it takes to help them learn. That's my kiddo. While the rest of the class moved on to new things, a helper pulled him aside and worked with him one-on-one for the rest of the time, just trying to get him past the first two requirements. I don't think they were successful, but I still deemed today a success.

The reason? I'm pretty sure today was the first real swimming lesson he has ever had where he didn't shed a tear.

This is what happens when you let your kids pick out what pictures to post. You get ALL of them.

We celebrated Father's Day at the lake with my mom and dad. We had a great time, our kids had a great time, but my poor father was probably exhausted after his "special" day.

Here are the highlights...

Bike Riding

Raiding the Mulberry Tree

Waterskiing

Boat Rides (and crashed out kids)

Blowing Bubbles

Beach Fun

Getting Ready For Smores

Yet Another Great Parenting Moment

This morning I stopped by a friend's house and while we were there she gave my boys bunny grahams in a little dixie cup. My 5 YO ate a couple of them and then decided to save the rest. My 2 YO ate over half his cupful before he moved on to bigger and better things (tormenting the cat). Shortly after that the 5 YO asked if he could have one from his brother's cup. "No," I said, "you still have a whole cupful. Those are his." Five minutes later he asked me again. And again I informed him, "No. Do not take his crackers."

A little while later I was talking to my friend and noticed something sneaky-looking out of the corner of my eye. So I asked my child, "Did you take a cracker out of your brother's cup?" After trying to dodge the question, he admitted that he did. We were about ready to leave, so I took the cups, sent him downstairs for his shoes, and told him we would talk about it in the van.

On the way home we talked about his choice...blah, blah, blah...and that his consequence would have been worse if he would have lied...and that he would have to give his brother back his cracker, and two more because of his bad choice.

His reply: "Oh good, because I took three out of his cup!"

Big sigh. "You took three? Well, now you'll have to give him even more."

His reply: "I know, I know, mom! I took three so I should give him six!"

Good idea. Thanks. Glad he is so remorseful for his actions. Next time I want to come up with a logical consequence for him, I'll just ask him first.

Do you ever have those moments, those "things", in parenting that just make your skin crawl? For me, the moment has been occurring every day, twice a day, for at least two years.

It looks something like this.

Me: "It's time to brush your teeth."

Him:
"Noooooo."
"Do I have to?"
"I don't want to brush my teeth."
"Why do I have to brush my teeth?"
"You have to come with me."
"Can you do it for me tonight, pppllleeeeaaasseee?"
"I don't like to brush my teeth."

And once his toothbrush finally hits the mouth, then it's my turn.

Me:
"Keep moving the toothbrush around."
"Don't stop."
"You don't have to have a cup of water to spit."
"You have to be able to brush for more than 20 seconds without spitting."
"Keep brushing."
"Get the front teeth."
"You're not brushing."
"Did you LIKE having those two cavities filled? Are you wanting MORE?"


Then the other day I decided to bring him home a new toothbrush. A battery-powered one, like his cousins have. This was very hard for me, because I felt like I was rewarding bad behavior. It seemed like I was saying, "You whine, cry, and complain every time you have to brush your teeth, so here you go, have a fun toothbrush."

You would have thought I handed the kid a million dollars. Or a million M&M's.

And here is what I learned: Who needs mom and dad? Just bring on the superheros. Spiderman is a miracle worker. He arrived at our home, jumped into the hands of my son, and instantaneously rewired whatever part of his brain oversees teeth brushing.

This is what I hear now.

Him:
"Is it time to brush my teeth yet?"
"I love brushing my teeth now."
"Can I brush after lunch too?"
"Can I brush for four minutes instead of two?"
"Wait, we haven't brushed my teeth yet!"


Best $4.96 I've ever spent.

And the Building Continues

Two sides complete...

Two to go...

While daddy works, we pass the time with football...

friends...

and funny faces...

Then....And Now

I've been doing a lot of reflecting on the past few years lately. This trek to find a Master's Program has made me ponder on the decisions of when to go back to work, when to dive into a program of study, and when to just forget it all. I have been evaluating and re-evaluating what my life was like "back then" when I was working compared to now.

Then....I would grocery shop where ever and whenever I wanted to, not looking at prices, just getting what I thought we needed. Now....I strategically shop sales and have certain bargain things I only get at certain bargain stores.

Then....I never cut out a single coupon. Now....I'm disgusted to admit the amount of time this consumes. But, the $50+ savings every month has kept me going.

Then....the only books I ever read were textbooks and necessary reading for teaching. Now....I drive my husband crazy that I can't put down my latest novel.

Then....I never had a morning of coffee and chatting with my friends. Now....I still don't drink coffee, but I love the mornings when I can sit and chat with my friends.

Then....every spare moment was busy with lesson planning, grading, and meetings. Now....every spare moment is busy with picking up clutter, refereeing fights, and fixing the upcoming meal or snack.

Then....I had great adult conversation with colleagues on a daily basis. Now....let's just say I'm really thankful for cell phone minutes.

Then....I had moments where I felt like my job was overtaking my family. Now....I have moments where I feel like the computer and phone are overtaking my family.

Then....I got a paycheck once a month. Now....well, I don't.

Then....I wondered what my son was doing the whole time I was at work. Now....I wonder why my son is doing what he is doing and what discipline technique might work.

Then....I left by 7:00 every morning and saw my husband again sometime after 5:00. Now....he is only gone for four hours at a time.

Then....we could eat out when we didn't feel like scrounging up anything at home. Now....we take sack lunches with us even when we are heading to a town with perfectly good restaurants.

Then....I wore dresses five days a week. Now....I do well to get dressed five days a week.

Then....there was no such thing as shopping, running errands, or going to the library, between the hours of 7:00 a.m. - 5:00 p.m. M-F. Now....any day is potentially free game.

Then....I had good excuses for why the house wasn't clean. Now....I have to create good excuses for why the house isn't clean.

Then....I thought "if only I could stay home..." Now....I think "if only I could work a little bit..."

I know, the grass is always greener...

Big Boy Bed

I'm back in the land of the living. All that means is that I've been gone for two days taking a great class so I can still claim to be a teacher. I may not have a job - but I still have a license to prove that I could.


The two days before my class, my son decided it was time to sleep in a "big boy bed." He has not attempted to crawl out of his crib even one time, so I was milking confinement for all it was worth. I like railings on beds. Especially railings that mean there is no chance of escape.


But he's been begging to sleep with his brother, or in our bed, or on the floor - anywhere that resembles "big boy". So we broke out the toddler bed.

And we put him down for his first nap in his bed. He got out once. That's not bad, especially for the first time. We put him back in. He was quiet, all was well, and we thought he was asleep. After a while we hear music coming from his room. Music??

Apparently we keep the play piano under the crib. This is where we found him, being all Mozartzy.

Long story short, he took that nap in his crib.

That night, he begged for his big boy bed. Alllrrrriiiggghhhtttt...round two.

Miracle of all miracles, he stayed in the bed. Even stayed laying down. Awake. For hours. I'm hoping it was the excitement of the new bed. PLEASE let it be the excitement of the new bed, because the next day wasn't pretty.

Unfortunately, we have already had two more "next days" since then. The excitement better wear off fast, because the big boy bed is wearing me out.