It's Official

Austin is now, officially, a second grader. I wish all kids could love school as much as he does. He was so excited to be going back to school. He didn't even mind the obligatory back to school pictures that Mom makes him pose for. Just for the record, I didn't pick out his new shoes. HE DID! I wanted white, he wouldn't hear of it. I remember when Emily and Sarah were little, they were easy to buy shoes for - we agreed! Patrick on the other hand, always wanted the opposite of what I wanted him to have. Must be boys.

Anyway, I drove him to school and walked him to his new classroom. His teacher this year is the daughter-in-law of a good friend of ours. She told me last year that she had heard such good things about him from his teacher that she would do everything in her power to make sure he was in her class this year. She came through and he is thrilled. Before we went to her classroom he had to go get a hug from his first grade teacher, Ms. Brown. Ms. Brown graduated from high school with our youngest daughter, Sarah Kate. He loved her and just wanted to touch base I guess with the very familiar before venturing into the big world of second grade.

We went shopping after he got home yesterday afternoon for the school supplies on the list from school. It was a zoo in the school supplies aisle of every store we went to. We found everything except a simple package of pencil top erasers and 2 dry erase markers. Wouldn't you think that simple pencil erasers would be an easy thing to find? Not so. I bet I end up finding them at the grocery store.

Being the scrapbooking crazed Mom that I am, we had to take a picture of all the supplies spread out on the table for his "back to school page". To further demonstrate how eaten up I am with this scrapbooking thing; I made other purchases at the store where we bought the supplies, but I made sure to pay for them separately so that I could have a separate receipt for the school stuff for the scrapbook page! Even I realize how kind of ridiculous that sounds, but a person's not really crazy if they think they're crazy, right? Well, isn't that right? I don't care, I plead Momitis!

So, school is back in session. All is right with his world.

Grounding 101 (when you have an old Mommy)

I love the goofy face he's making here!

There is not really any particular reason I chose this photo for this entry. I was just looking through some old pictures of Austin and came upon this one. He was 19 months old here and he was helping me plant flowers in the back yard on this day. I remember what a little clown he was that day. I thought he was adorable. I still think he's adorable. He's spoiled rotten. I hasten to add here, however, I didn't do all the spoiling myself. How could he not be spoiled? He's surrounded by adults who have delighted in most every thing he's ever done. There are days (and I never thought I'd ever say this!) when I would give just about anything to have him back at this age. Kids grow up way too fast. It boggles my mind to realize that my older kids are now 26, 24 and 23 years old. How in the world did that happen??? And, my gosh, how can I possibly be old enough to have kids that age? Oh, the tricks our minds play on us. Anyway, Austin will be 8 in October. It simply doesn't seem possible. We are going shopping later this afternoon to buy new school shoes and supplies for the first day of school on Monday. He will be a second grader. Like I said, it boggles the mind.

At the moment we are struggling through his first experience of being grounded. He's always been pretty easy to handle. On the few past occasions that he's been a little on the obstinate side I could simply begin counting to three and before I would get to two he would come out of his obstinant state and do whatever it was that I had asked him to do. I guess he's really starting to grow up now because  night before last (which is probably not the  very first time it's happened, maybe Mommy is just having selective memory) he dug in and asserted his little independant self.

 Patrick and Amber had gone to a cookout at Patrick's friends' house. When they got back here they wanted to finish watching a movie (dvd)  that they had been watching earlier. Austin decided at that exact moment that he wanted to play a game on the Playstation 2 in Patrick's room. I really think that it was more like he wanted to be in the same room as Patrick and Amber. Right before they had gotten home, I had told Austin that it was time for him to take a shower. I told him to come on and get in the shower and let Patrick and Amber watch the movie. This was his first "dig in". He insisted that he only wanted to play the game for a few minutes. I told him, "No, Patrick and Amber want to watch a movie and it's not your room. Come on and get in the shower now." He, of course, was tring to ignore me and keep playing the game. I had to raise my voice a little. He can't handle a raised voice. I wasn't yelling, I really wasn't, but I was aggravated that he was being obstinate. My tone of voice didn't hide the fact that I was aggravated. He stomped out of Patrick's room and went into his room. I once again asked him to get in the shower. (Why do little boys hate to take baths and showers?) By now he was really sulking and  I was tired and aggravated. Usually, at this point all I have to do is tell him to get in the shower and begin counting and by the time I reach two he's up and headed to the shower. NOT THIS TIME! He jumped to the floor on the other side of his bed and really dug in. This is not my first time around the block people. I could see the writing on the wall. This was defiance, plain and simple. He drew the line in the sand and I was forced to be the big, bad Mommy! If he could have heard the thoughts in my head at that moment he would have heard me saying, "Oh, Austin, please don't make me ground you. I don't want to do this, please don't make me do this. Please just be my little obedient Austin and get in the shower". He, however, didn't hear those thoughts. What he heard was, "I am going to count to three and if you're not on the way to the shower by the time I get to three, you're grounded". I don't know, maybe he was thinking it would be cool to be grounded. Maybe he thought that he would be grounded and he wouldn't have to take the shower after all and it would be worth the grounding. But what happened was, I began counting slowly. "One....(no movement)two...Austin, I mean it, I am going to ground you, please don't make me do that. (no movement)...three (still no movement). Then that old familar feeling that parents get after they realize that their bluffs been called set it. What is that thought? It's, "OH my gosh, I've grounded this kid and in the process have punished MYSELF!" So then, he gets up off the floorand stomps to the bathroom for his shower, crying all the way. He wasn't crying because he'd been grounded,m he was crying because I was mad at him. Through his tears he was telling me that I was mean and that I didn't love him and that he doesn't like to be yelled at. I reiterate here that I was not really yelling.Now, here is the thing that I don't understand. Once I reached the magic number of three and he'd become grounded, he got up and walked to the shower! No more arguing! Could someone please explain to my why?

 When he got out of the shower he wanted to know what he was grounded from. Without thinking I told him that he was not allowed to have any kids in to play and he was not allowed to play inside anyone's house for the rest of the week (Sunday). I think at the time I said he was not allowed to play with his friends until Monday. Now here is the thing people, These are the last few days of his summer vacation and I'm off this weekend! In hindsight, I wish I'd said that he would not be allowed to play any video games until Monday. So, now, I'm living with the decision I made. Well, ok, maybe not completely. We both kind of conveniently forgot the part about not playing with his friends at all. But he's not having friends in and he's not going in anyone's house (this is huge, because these kids are constantly playing in someone's house). He's begged me all morning to let him have someone in. I have held strong (stop laughing!). I plead old age. It's expected that we become forgetful as we age, right? Maybe I just think that I said he couldn't play with this friends at all. Yeah, that's it, I just thought it, I didn't really say it.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

PS:  Within an hour of posting this entry, Austin came into the house and said, "Mommy, I'm going down to Dylan's house." "Not inside", I said. To which he responded with the following zinger, "I know, I'm just going to be outside. Are you okay with that?" Am I okay with that? I swear this kid is a 30 year old in a 7 year old body.

Home from a wonderful vacation

My  neighbor came through with the buddy passes so Austin and I flew to Panama City a week ago Sunday. Austin was so excited to be flying (he doesn't remember his first flight as a baby).

We mostly just hung out at the pool and totally enjoyed ourselves. I don't know when I've ever had a more relaxing vacation. My nephew took Austin to the beach one afternoon, once was enough, the green algae was bad and the rest of the time he was happy to be in the pool. (Mommy rejoiced!). We were usually in the pool by 8 am and pretty much stayed there until supper time. Pilar had a couple of neighbor kids that came to swim with Austin (he can't do ANYTHING alone!), so Pilar and I were able to sit around the pool talking, working Sudoku puzzles and eating. Even Austin learned how to do Sudoku and he worked on one just about every morning:

By the time we left he was swimming like a fish and we both had swimmer's ear to prove it. (I've never had an earache in my life, Man are they ever painful!) I called his pediatrician and he called in a prescription to the pharmacy down there (to the tune of $102 for 10 cc's! Highway robbery if you ask me!

I've never particularly wanted a pool in my back yard. Well, I do now! It was so wonderful to swim first thing in the morning. It was a blast for Austin and he was worn out by the end of the day. He was easy to get into bed very early (the first day he was asleep by 6pm!). He is at the perfect age for a pool. I don't know what kind, but somehow, someway there will be water in my backyard next summer. At the age Austin is we would get years of enjoyment out of it. I'll be checking out pools this winter!!

Pilar's friends have a 30 ft. cabin cruiser. They took Austin and I out in the Gulf on Friday afternoon (Pilar gets extremely sea sick so she opted out). We were hoping to see some Dolphins. We saw some off in the distance when we were going out through the bay, but on our return trip through the bay, there were some guys in a boat feeding them little fish (this is against the law), anyway, they had about 7 of them surrounding their boat. They were coming up out of the water like Flipper used to do, begging for food. Then, one by one, the guys starting jumping in the water to swim with them (we were in about 15 ft of the clearest water I've ever seen in my life), When the Dolphins saw our boat they came over to us to beg for food. We didn't feed them but they were right up next to the boat! I wanted to jump in with them so badly. If my knee had been 100% I would have done it in a heartbeat, but Kathy said it would have been too hard to get back in the boat with my knee because of the waves. It killed me to be so close to them, an opportunity I've always wanted, and have to pass it up. Before I die, I WILL swim with Dolphins. They were so friendly! It was awesome!

Steve put out some lines in the water and Austin was trying to pull in a 2 footer. Not sure what it was, but right before he got it in the boat, he let go of the bait. It was still exciting!

We got home on Sunday afternoon at 2:00. We were so worn out and slap happy by the time we were headed home that Austin was taking pictures of us on the plane.(The chlorine has taken out all the color from my hair, so here people, is the ugly truth: This is now the natural color of my hair! Scary!) He kept telling me to make faces as he snapped pictures:

I thought for sure that Austin's two fron teeth would have fallen out by the time we came home. But, NO! He protects them all the time! They are just dangling!!

Even Austin's bear, Max enjoyed the trip:

 

I still have more pictures to download, so I'll post some more soon.

It's back to work tomorrow! I miss work. I'm glad to be going back. My knee is not great, but I worked on it for about a month before the surgery when ithurt, so I can work on it now. The jury is still out on how successful this surgery was. The doctor said it would take 8 weeks for it to be perfect. Patrick is at about the 8 week mark now and his isn't perfect. I havemy doubts. I'm not ready to say that I'm glad I had it done. I hope in another month I can say that it was a complete success. In the meantime Iwill keep limping on.

My sister-in-law from Panama City Beach, Florida called me the other day and said she was going to come up here and get Austin and I to spend a week with her while I'm off work. The idea sounded appealing! I could use a week's vacation with nothing to do but lounge around her pool and read. Austin, of course, is all for the idea. I, however, didn't want her to make the 12 hour drive. She makes this trip very regularly and doesn't think a thing of it. To me it sounds like a lot of time and gasoline! I have neighbors who are pilots and other airport support personnel. Last night we were talking with one of our neighbors and he offered to give me two buddy passes to go. SWEET!  So, he's looking into flights today and hopefully, we'll be on our way in the next couple of days. Austin is thrilled to death! I flew with him to Florida when he was two weeks old to meet his big brother (away at college). He, of course, doesn't remember this.

He's busy planning our week. Funny, how his plans and mine are so different!! We will spend a day or two at the beach and the rest of the time we'll be living in bathing suits in Aunt Pilar's pool. We're hoping that my daughter, Emily, who lives in Jacksonville will be able to come visit us. She's very busy with work and a new puppy, but hopefully it will work out. We miss her.

A NOTE REGARDING THE LAST ENTRY:

When I re-read it, I realized that the picture of the dining room was mis-leading. That is the dining room in this house, not the old house (the country one). This picture contains the table and pie safe that my mother-in-law gave me. The dining room is the only room in this house that contains a country flavor. I love those pieces and could never part with them.

 

Austin was in my nephew and Godson's wedding the first week of July. This kid has been a ring bearer so many times he qualifies as a professional. Here are some picture of him from the wedding that I just can't help showing off:

I have been sitting and thinking a lot lately. I've been looking through old magazines (you wouldn't believe my archive of decorating magazines!), and catalogs. I have realized that my home doesn't feel like "me". I struggle with every new purchasing decision when it involves something for the house. Then, when I do purchase something, it just doesn't feel right somehow.

 

When I first married, I thought I was all about modern furniture and decorating. So, naturally we bought modern furniture and decorated our first home with lots of bamboo and glass. I wasn't comfortable with it at all. It was just not cozy. It wasn't homey, and I'm all about homey. I think I went with the modern stuff because my mother had always loved Early American. I was sick of Early American and wanted something totally different. It didn't take me long, however, to find out that "modern" wasn't me. At the time (late 70's) "country decorating" was all the rage. I immediately jumped in with both feet. My mother-in-law gave me a beautiful old pie safe and an old, round wooden kitchen table and chairs.I love old things, I think I have an old soul.  I stripped the bamboo wallpaper and put up navy blue and white pinstripes with a cute little duck border (I can see the eye rolling). I found anything old and claimed it. I painted and distressed, I sewed and made country craft things. Before long, my home had a very cozy, comfortable feel. I liked it. It was me.

 

I don't really know why I got away from it, but when we moved into this house in 1994 I decided to make a change. I went with a more traditional look. I've lived with it now for 12 years and I've never felt like I "got it right". There seem to be rules for this type of decorating and I don't understand them. Country was easy for me. It was natural. It was fun and I miss it.

 

I want to go back to country. Maybe not quite as country as it was at one time, but country. You know what they say; "You can take a girl out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the girl". I miss the neat clutter of country. Maybe because I'm such a clutterbug at heart. I've always been attracted tocountry prints and country fabrics. I think I'm tired of resisting them.

 

So, guess what? I'm on a new mission. I will be happily converting my "not quite there" traditional home back to the comfortable and cozy country place that I think I was destined to have all along.

 

Winning the lottery would be nice.

Pardon me while I whine!

I've spent three days in the oversized chair in my family room whining like a baby. My knee feels like someone took an axe to it. I was told to take the bandage off yesterday, so I did. I was surprised to see how much my knees don't match.

I've never thought that knees were very pretty, but in comparison, my left one is downright beautiful!  Not only is my knee grossly distorted, my whole leg is swollen! My meniscus had shredded, but on top of being shredded, it had flipped over as well. I also was the proud owner of an uneven patella (kneecap), which required shaving on the underside so that it will slide over the bones easier. This, I'm told, is due to age. Lovely! I spent most of yesterday being mad at myself for allowing someone to mutilate my knee. Sure, it hurt before, but I was certainly better off than I am now. My plan was to show Patrick up in the recovery game. He did great, I wanted to do even  better. My ego has been squashed. He wins.

This hurts, and it hurts constantly. I have plenty of narcotics to help with the pain, but I hate taking them. I don't like the feeling of being drugged and fuzzy. However, when I'm not "drugged and fuzzy", I'm a whining bitch. Which is why, I suppose, my family keeps asking me if I've taken any pain pills lately. I have my first physical therapy session this afternoon. I will be taking said narcotics before I go there. The therapy will take place at the hospital where I work. I will have to see these people after this is all over. I cannot be a whimp or a crab. Maybe I could wear a mask.

I've decided that I'm a rotten patient. I had gathered lots of books and magazines to read while I sat on my butt healing. I have Sudoku puzzle books, Scrapbooking magazines and lots of things to entertain myself. I actually imagined that I would enjoy just being lazy and reading and watching television. I'm going stark raving mad. I've wallowed that chair to death trying to find a comfortable position (there are none), there is nothing even remotely interesting on television and I can't focus on reading due to "narcotic brain". I can't sleep for more than 2 hours at a time. In short, I'm not a fun person lately.

If anyone has any suggestions for improving my disposition, my family would be eternally grateful.

 

Counting backward from 100...again

Today was my birthday. I don't like birthdays anymore. I have decided that this is the last one that I'm going to count. The numbers are getting ridiculous. There should be a law against time going by so fast. I can't possibly be as old as I've gotten to be. It hurts, I don't like it, I don't like it one little bit. And then there is this thing about feeling like my body is just falling apart...piece by piece.

I just must not be holding my mouth right or something. Sometimes I think that someone has a voodoo doll in my image and they entertain themselves by sticking needles in it every other year. I have had my share of surgeries in the past, some minor and some major, the ones that I can remember total 7 and that's NOT counting oral surgeries. That might not seem like many to some people, but to me, it's a lot. Especially when you consider that I admit a lot of elderly people to the hospital and one of the questions that I ask on the admission history is how many surgeries have you had in the past. I am always amazed by how many people in their 70's and 80's answer, "none". Of those that have had surgeries, the answer is usually 2 to 3. I swore that I'd never lie down on an OR table and count backward from 100 again. I've been reminded, once again, that one should never say never!

Friday afternoon I'm having arthroscopic surgery on my right knee. I have a torn meniscus and it's driving me crazy. I have had bad knees all of my adult life. I'm NOT an athlete. The only thing I can figure is that all of the hands and knees floor scrubbing I've done in my life has done the damage. For the past month my knee has been swollen and very painful. By the time I get home from work in the evenings, the right knee is 2 inches bigger around than the left one. I've limped and "ouched" for about a month and it's getting worse not better. I cannot bend my knee at all without pain and it gives out on me at very inconvenient times (not that there are convenient times, I suppose!). I went to the orthopod on Tuesday and he said the meniscus is torn. The pain is from the meniscal flap being caught between the bones of my tibia and femur. The only way to correct that is to cut the torn pieces away. Oh joy! He also suspects that my patella is rough and needs to be shaved.

The good news is that knee surgery has come a long way in recent years and they can now do this with just two small incisions instead of opening up the whole knee. I guess I should just be grateful for that. And I am, trust me.

The interesting thing is, Patrick just had this very same surgery on June 2. The discouraging thing is, his knee still hurts. I have had many people tell me the same thing. It's not very encouraging. But, I can't keep going with the knee like it is. So, I'm going to cross my fingers and hope this works.

(Crown courtesy of Austin!) You've gotta love a big brother that will wear a foam crown lovingly made for him by his little brother AND have his picture taken wearing it to make that little brother happy.