Day 18 – Roughing It

Day two of Snowpocalypse and I’ve already heard “I’m bored” a dozen times.  And I swear if I’m subjected to one more minute of YouTube videos showing adolescent or young men playing video games, I may scream.  My youngest son would sit in front of a screen (television, computer, phone, handheld gaming system….he’s not particular) for 14 hours per day if I allowed it.  Today I told him no more.  Off with screens.

Of course, he had no idea what to do despite the copious toys, games, and art supplies in our home. (We were done going out to play in the snow for the day so that wasn’t an option.) Therefore, I heard the same “I’m bored” again.  After wandering aimlessly like a lost soul in the desert searching for water, he finally approached me and asked if I could do something with him.

Now, I believe it does not harm children to be bored.  In fact, I think that sentiment births creativity.  However, I also don’t want to overlook the opportunity to disconnect from my adult world and responsibilities and have quality time with my kids…..especially if they are asking for it.  So that’s what I did.

Little D had the most delightful idea and it meets my daily firsts requirements.  He wanted to have a picnic in our living room, but not just a picnic….an indoor camping picnic.  So we roughed it…..according to his mind’s idea of camping.

Last year his cousin had a camping-themed birthday party and all the kids got these great teepee/tents.  It’s rather large, but folds up and fits in the closet nicely.  D requested we get it out and set it up.  I placed a tablecloth under it.  Then we carried our microwave meals — because apparently this is real camping food to a 6 year old — along with a bowl of strawberries and water inside the tent.  I also took the pillows off the couch and put them in there.  This was necessary because I could not sit in the tent.  I had to lay with my head and arms in the tent and my legs coming out.

When I first carried our drinks into the tent, D had the television on with eyes glued.  You can see it in the picture here.  No way was I going to allow this.  I turned it off.  He pouted for about 30 seconds and then we played the most intense game of “Would You Rather” with a six year old that you could imagine.  It actually was a great thing to do because it gave us an opportunity to get to know each other’s preferences all while giggling and talking.

Indoor camping picnics are not something that can be done everyday, but they are a nice change of pace.  Definitely a first I would do again.

Do I Have to Function?

Can we be honest?  I’m tired.  Mind-numbing, bone-aching tired.  I stayed up far too late the week of spring break (a terrible habit of mine when the kids aren’t with me), then we had a head-spinning trip to Baltimore, and now I’m trying to organize and anticipate everything ahead of having Eddie’s consultation with a cardiothoracic surgeon.  I’m thankful for all the activity and my to do lists as they prevent me from spending too much time processing that Eddie is going to have open heart surgery in a matter of months.  Distractions are welcome at this point.

But even with these distractions, one cannot totally escape stress.  Even if I’m not focused on the surgery and coming months each moment of each day, it’s there.  Somewhere.  It’s causing this type of can’t-sleep-well-but-still-so-tired fatigue.  This I-slept-X-hours-but-I-don’t-want-to-climb-out-of-bed exhaustion.

Things will be better once we meet with the surgeon and have a date set.  Then there is an end in sight.  The everything in limbo is so challenging.

But I have moments that leave me relaxed and laughing.  In fact, I’ve probably had more smiles and laughter in the last week than in months combined.

Eddie is incredible.  Somehow in someway it was as if he grew up in a matter of 10 minutes time.  He walked into that cardiology appointment a kid that was sweet and sensitive but could be entitled, moody, selfish, and argumentative (like any other teen).  He walked out determined to define his own life rather than be a victim of his illness or circumstances.  He has articulated his appreciation and emotions in such strong and bold ways.  He has asked direct, complex questions about his surgery and is taking the lead in making decisions for himself and his health.

A couple of months ago while I was in a meeting, Eddie was at home with a friend and babysitting his brother.  He shimmied up the gutter onto my roof.  Then he jumped off the roof onto my couch (which he had moved out of the living room onto the front porch) while shooting a basket into the basketball goal.  I don’t need to tell you that this was not his shining moment of maturity and thinking.  In fact, I opined that perhaps the 5 year old should be the one left in charge of the 15 year old after that debacle.  However, with this new person at my dinner table, I can’t even imagine him doing something so dangerous and irresponsible.

Don’t get me wrong.  He’s not perfect (nor am I) and we don’t have a perfect relationship.  I got so freaking frustrated and angry with him yesterday for interrupting me and backtalking.  And today he has a consequence for this.  However, it was over as quickly as it began…..and he isn’t arguing with the consequence.  In fact, he still shared that he appreciated and loved me AND then he posted it on ….. wait for it…..social media!  WHAT?!

I would do anything….anything to keep my kid from needing to undergo open heart surgery.  However, since it has to happen, I pray that he grows and matures and is a better person for having had gone through it.  And I pray that I am too.

Mr. Grinch Not Welcome Here

I love Christmas decorations.  I love a lot of things about Christmas…..the music, the family gatherings, hiding gifts from my kids, but decorations are my favorite. Typically it is all I can do to contain my excitement and not drag the tree out of our storage building as soon as Halloween is over.  But my husband HATES getting it all out.  He’s one of these people that thinks there should be no mention of Christmas until the turkey and gravy of Thanksgiving are cold.   Fa la la la la BLAH!  He usually manages to hold me off until the day after Thanksgiving but not one minute more.  He helps me put boxes into and out of the storage building, but his tree trimming obligations end there.  He even had “I promise to not make you watch endless hours of football if you promise never to make me put the star on the top of the tree” in our marriage vows.

This year, however, I have wrestled with the world’s longest and most irritating cold/asthma flare up ever.  Seeing as how our storage building is practically the next county over and I had to use my flippin inhaler just to take the dishes out of the dishwasher, dragging multiple boxes of Christmas decor into the house just didn’t seem feasible.  So this year, I’m late….I’m late…..for a very important date.  Christmas tree trimming time!!!!!

We finally got the boxes into the house yesterday afternoon.  E helped me spread out the branches and he put the tree together while I “fluffed up” the branches.  Really, I don’t say it enough but my teenager’s heart is made of pure gold.  He knows how much his mama loves decorating the tree so he feigns interest while sneaking in plays of the newest app on his Ipod.  All the while he wears a smile on his face. He is a gem, really.

By the time the tree was assembled, E’s poor allergies were going nuts from all the boxes and the storage building so he was banished to his room with kleenex and benadryl.  By this time, the toddler, D, was up from his “long winter’s nap” so things were about to get interesting…..

I wasn’t quite sure if he’d have any interest in hanging ornaments or if he would just confuse them with the dog’s tennis ball and colored glass balls would go soaring across the room.  Or….perhaps he wouldn’t yet have the motor skills and dexterity to hang them from branches and one after the next would come crashing down along with my hopes of the perfect tree.  It was a crap shoot, really.

Either way I was determined not to be a Grinch about it.  No matter how things looked in the end…..even if all the ornaments were located within a two inch square of the lower right corner of the tree, I was not going to critique, suggest, or move them.  (My Type A personality is breaking into a cold sweat at just the thought of this.  You may need to excuse me if I suddenly take a break to take my emergency prozac that I keep around the house for occasions such as this.)

Well, D and I had a wonderful time decorating the tree.  He handled the lower half of the tree with unbreakable ornaments (or at least I thought they were unbreakable…..two proved to be otherwise.  May they rest in peace.) while I tended to the top half of the tree with the breakable, nostalgic, irreplaceable ornaments.  I think all in all it worked out.  And D kept jumping up and down yelling “I did it!”  after he hung each one.  And he kept saying, “I like Christmas.”  It really was too sweet.

Who You Calling Chicken?

If you’ve followed my blog for any length of time, you know my oldest son has some medical challenges (which he handles magnificently, might I add!).  One of these issues is significant food allergies.  We are in the process of working with his doctors at Johns Hopkins and the NIH to help build a tolerance to milk.  We began with giving him foods that had milk baked into it.  After a number of months, we progress to a new stage.  As long as he does well, we continue to progress so that eventually he will be able to ingest milk in any form without a reaction.

Today we took another step by providing him with a dish that has milk as an ingredient that has not been completely baked through — chicken pot pie.  I cannot begin to express how very excited I am about this.  I love chicken pot pie.  It is the ultimate comfort food.  And then moving E to a new stage and closer to the goal of having no reason to fear milk…..yay!!!

I took a can of cream of potato soup and a can of cream of chicken soup and placed in a casserole dish.  I then added a cup of soymilk (the milk in the soups were enough to get us started) and some salt and pepper.  I then added a dash of Old Bay seasoning ….. well, because…..I put Old Bay seasoning on darn near everything.  That stuff’s good.  It’s my culinary homage to all the good that Baltimore and Johns Hopkins does for our family.

Anyway…..I whisked together in the casserole dish.  All the while I was cooking my frozen peas and carrots and corn on the stove top.  Once it was finished, I strained it and added to my soup mixture along with about two cups of chicken more or less.  (Time to come clean……canned chicken is nasty.  However, you can totally fool your family and throw it in this dish since there’s so much other goodness.  Vegetarian?  You can throw in pseudo-chicken and I doubt anyone would know.  Of course, if you want to be a freaking overachiever and show me up…..feel free to boil that bad bird, skin it, chop it up, and throw it in…..but I ain’t got time for that.)  Stir everything up in your casserole dish and put it in the oven at 400 degrees for about 15 minutes.  While that’s in the oven, take canned biscuits (I know…..canned chicken, canned biscuits…..as a Southern woman, I should hang my head in shame) and quarter them.

At the end of that 15 minutes, take your chicken mixture out of the oven.  Place your quartered biscuits on top to form a crust.  Stick it back in the oven for 10-15 minutes or until the top is golden brown.

Here’s what it looks like on the table:  This picture may have been taken after a few servings were eaten because we just couldn’t help ourselves.

E ate a plate full and kept telling me how good it was.  Additionally, he had a scratchy throat, but did not swell to six times his normal size.   And no epipens were injured in the making of this blog post.

The youngest, however, made repulsive facial expressions while I threatened, coerced, and bribed him to eat the vegetables.  All in all, a success.

Up On the Rooftop – Day 179

The conference hotel had a gorgeous rooftop patio and pool. Saturday night had a social/family night scheduled. The pool was opened at the beginning and then they played a movie.

There was an inflatable screen set up on the patio for the movie.  A popcorn machine, drinks, and ice cream were available for all of us.  The kids fluctuated between sitting in the chairs in the front and jumping up giggling as Horton Hears a Who played.

This was my first time watching this movie and it was the first time I’ve seen a movie on a rooftop terrace.  The weather was perfect.  There was a slight breeze and it was a comfortable temperature.  As you looked to the left and just past the screen, you could see the lights of the Baltimore skyline and the lights of boats sailing on the Inner Harbor.  Fabulous.

On to the movie…. as I sat watching the scenes, I recognized so many voices.  I heard Jim Carrey, Steve Carrell, and Carol Burnett.  There were a number of jokes which seemed to be targeted more for adults.  There were definite lessons hidden in the plot….well, not really hidden.  It seemed outrightl.  Of course, that isn’t unusual for Dr. Suess….like The Lorax.

Watching a Dr. Suess movie is not the movie I would choose for a date night on a Saturday night, but it was a great choice for a family outing and social.  And it was made exceptional by watching it outside on the rooftop.

Truly, a Girls Day Out – Day 123

I love, love, love my sons.  They bring more joy to my life than I ever imagined.  In fact, I feel God perfectly matched up my two boys with Rick and I because life was never complete until they were both here and part of our family.  I cannot imagine life without them.  It would be boring and without the laughter and joy I have now.

With that said, sometimes the world of sports, roughhousing, and bodily function humor can sometimes be a bit much for this girly girl.  Truthfully, I sometimes do wonder about the lives of those who paint little fingernails, braid hair, and play with Barbies. Today, I got a taste of that.

I have the most wonderful niece ever!  Yes.  I just said that.  I’m sure your niece is sweet, but mine is sweeter, cuter, and smarter.  Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I can continue.

My brother and sister-in-law had to work during the morning.  Little Miss A, my niece, had her first swimming lesson.  Imagine my excitement when they asked if I could spend the day with her and take her to swimming lessons.  Before the question mark was placed on that text, I’m sure I had responded with an emphatic YES!!!!

I was so excited for our day together I actually arrived at their house almost 20 minutes early and anybody who knows me knows that has to be a sign of pure excitement!  After Miss A’s mom left for work, we watched tv and then out came the nail polish bag.  She did not want me to paint her nails.  Oh no!  She wanted to paint my nails!  Of course, I let her.  Now might be a good time to mention sweet Miss A is only 3 and 3 year olds don’t really have the motor skills to paint nails…..but who cares?

Just in case you are hurting for a visual, use this image of Lorde’s nails from an awards show this year:  

That was pretty much my fingers except a much less goth princess pink.  I wore it happily to Little A’s swimming lessons.

Since her mom and dad couldn’t be there for her very first swimming lesson, I figured they would want to have a picture to remember it by.  So there she was in the water with about eight other little girls and one little boy in swimsuits.  And here I come to the edge of the pool with my phone taking pictures.  I took one and then realized how the other parents were looking at me a bit uncomfortably.  Even with my princess pink fingers and spectacular hair and jewelry, I appeared just a bit — shall we say — creepy and stalkerish.  Nice.  I got the picture, though.  And to my brother and sister-in-law if you happen to be reading this, be a little understanding to the other parents at the next swimming lesson when they won’t let their kids play with Miss A and they give you some strange looks and whispers.

Moving on….when I got her home, we had a snack and then she wanted her hair like Elsa from Frozen.  Of course, in my household of boys, I don’t watch a lot of Disney princess movies.  Cars, I can quote.  Frozen, not so much.  However, with the intense marketing and our recent trip to Disney World, I understand Elsa has two braids down her head…at least, I think that’s right.  Anyhow…..you can see my attempt at Elsa-like braids in Miss A’s hair above.  It appears my fantasies of playing with a little girl’s hair and creating the perfect braids do not take into account squirminess (is that even a word?) or the need to look up to see Bubble Guppies on television.  Regardless, she was happy and I was happy.

Today’s first:  having a girls day out with my sweet niece.  Successfully checked.

 

 

Learning Something New – Day 100

Learning Something New – Day 100

Today I decided I would learn something new.  Initially I thought I might learn how to say a word or phrase in a foreign language, but just as I was about to scan the numerous websites and videos something else caught my eye.

This website and it’s images.

It’s a story through pictures comparing the lives of children throughout the world by seeing their bedrooms.  There are children from developing countries and children from first world nations.  Kids range in age from 6 to 15.  They live on a variety of continents and identify with various ethnic and religious groups.

The most obvious and striking comparison is the difference in conditions in the rooms. Some have no roof, no walls, no bed.  Others have televisions, bunk beds, other furniture.  It is obvious just how much I take basic necessities for granted.  Even many impoverished children in America have better living conditions than some of these children.

I also noticed how children are impacted and exposed to propaganda or culture based on what is seen in these rooms.  Posters of political figures and religious icons are seen.

I don’t mean to get political, but I could not help but notice how the American child had guns in his room.  I am certain this was reflective of a hunting habit based on the camouflage throughout the room, also.  However, I do wonder how some of the other children in the photojournalism project would think of this…particularly in war torn nations.  Perhaps they would be appalled, but perhaps they would think it would provide a feeling of security and safety.  Maybe it would be shocking or maybe it would not be even noticed much less considered strange.  I don’t know, but it does provide some interesting food for thought about cultural differences.

Another thing I found myself considering is the idea of self-expression.  Some bedrooms are reflective of the likes, dislikes, and personalities of the child.  For example, a Japanese boy has a Winnie the Pooh stuffed animal in the midst of tons of electronics.  while another child from The West Bank has a room of calming colors but little decorations.  It was very sparse and utilitarian.  Additionally, some children in developing nations barely have basic necessities so there is little opportunity or consideration for self expression.  The differences are astounding.

Learning a little about the differences in the environments of children around the world sure makes me feel grateful for what I have.  It also helps me to remember that there are great variances in the home environments of my students which have to be considered in order to help them be as successful as possible.

 

Baseball and Coffee — Good Times Day 67

What a great day!  It was filled with several firsts and memorable times.  

We are in Atlanta to see our Wake Forest Demon Deacons play Georgia Tech in their first ACC series this year.  Normally we wouldn’t travel out of town so far to follow them, but yesterday there was no school, and I arranged to do some jewelry work while I was here so it worked out well.  This allowed me to cover more than one first in a day:  visiting Georgia Tech AND meeting up for coffee with a friend from college.

The baseball game was on the Georgia Tech campus.  It was a gorgeous day for a ballgame.  The campus is smack in the middle of Atlanta.  Getting there was enough to require Prozac since I get super anxious in traffic and we weren’t quite sure where we were going. When we made it onto campus, we had to travel around before finding a parking deck for the game so we got a spontaneous tour of Greek Row on campus.  Eventually we parked and made it into the baseball park.  E had arrived hours earlier as he rode the team bus and went with the team.  

He stays in the dugout during the games.  He has a uniform and is really made to feel like one of the guys.  Such an awesome program TEAMImpact is!   Here is a picture of the guys during the National Anthem.  Obviously, E is the shortest one with the gray jersey.  The best part is the team won 12-7!  Their record when E is at the game?  9-1!  

After the game, I met up with a college friend of mine.  I have not seen her since college (that was quite awhile ago for those wondering….).  She brought a friend of hers and I shared about my jewelry business and line.  Yay!  Get to visit an old friend AND count it off on taxes.  Awesome!  I love that they loved the jewelry, but I loved visiting more.  Nothing better than catching up with friends while enjoying some yummy gourmet coffee.  

All in all, a fabulous day!  This is exactly the way firsts were meant to be enjoyed!

These Shoes Were Made for Throwing Away – Day 66

Unfortunately my sons have inherited the Elledge curse.  The men in my family have been cursed with the sweatiest feet ever.  It’s not that their feet are stinky.  But they sweat mercilessly and that sweat translates to horrible smelling shoes.  And now my sons are carrying on the tradition.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen…..or smelled.  Yesterday our family was on a road trip.  E took off his shoes to get more comfortable and the malodorous scent began to infiltrate the car.  We rolled down the windows and ordered him to put those shoes back on.  He swore he could keep the smell from knocking us over.  He covered the shoes with coats.  Then my husband realized they were his coats so he demanded the coats removed from the shoes to prevent corrupting them.  We demanded he put the shoes back on.  Fortunately, he complied, but not before the air was totally contaminated.  These shoes were among the worst smelling ever because not only were they dealing with Elledge man sweat, they had also been left in the elements previously so there was even more moisture to fight.

Farther down the road we came upon an outlet mall with a Nike Factory Store.  We took the turn to go to the stores.  We knew with three more hours on the road, this was our only hope for clean air.  We bought new sneakers and new socks.  E went into the dressing room, took off his shoes and socks, and put the new ones on.

Today’s first?  We didn’t even leave the store with the old shoes and socks.  The socks went into the trash in the store.  The old rancid shoes were discarded as well.  The Nike Store had a container inside for people to give their old sneakers so they could be recycled.  I have my doubts that there is any salvaging those shoes.

If you have and tricks that could prevent these new sneakers from becoming so foul-smelling, please share!

Billy Ray Cyrus and Joe Dirt Would Be Proud – Day 51

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so here it is….tonight’s first:

It was borne of necessity, really.  D is my two year old that would rather endure antiquated torture methods than a haircut.  In fact, my friend and hairstylist has offered jokingly to pay to have me take him to another stylist to cut his hair.

The last time I took him to her for a haircut was an experience.  If you had walked by and seen us, you would have undoubtedly thought a violent crime was getting ready to take place.  I had his hands and feet held down, his dad had a grip around his head to keep it from swinging around, he was screaming bloody murder, and the hairstylist was edging ever so slowly to him with shears in her hands.  I’m sure he’ll be recounting that years from now in therapy.

We’ve used cute haircutting capes, no cape, standing up, sitting down, bribery…..you name it.  He just doesn’t like having his haircut.  But it had to be done.  He was looking a lot like David Spade in Joe Dirt.  No child of mine will have a mullet that would make Billy Ray Cyrus envious.  That was it.  I decided to cut it myself.

I figure if I make too much of a mess, my friend will feel obligated to fix it and cut his hair finally.  The only way I had any hope of making this work was confining him to his high chair and placing a heaping bowl of ice cream in front of him.  Done.

The ice cream did manage to keep his attention well.  There were just a few times he noticed the scissors.  When he did, he said, “No, Mommy.”  Then I would hide the scissors and move to the other side.  As soon as he was totally immersed in his ice cream again, I would go back to it.  I knew there was no way to make everything perfect and straight…..even if I did have the skills (which I do not).  However, even with my hack job, he at least now looks like a child of 2014 and not 1986.