Come What May & Love It

We had quite a scare last week with my dad. He had been having some intense stomach pains and finally went into the hospital Monday morning. His appendix had burst and he needed surgery right away. In the surgery, they also had to remove one of his colons, discovered he had a hernia and a large mass that they weren't sure was cancerous or not. I felt concern, but somehow detached from my feelings until about Thursday night. He was still in the hospital and wasn't doing very well. I had tried to talk to him on the phone, but he had tubes in his throat and couldn't talk but for a few seconds. My mom spent the nights sleeping on a chair in his room. That night I cried for the first time. I still didn't know if he had cancer, and I couldn't see him or even talk to him. I couldn't be there for a support for my mom. They were thousands of miles away, and I couldn't do anything to help. I was struck with how fragile life is, and I hurt inside, feeling like I was missing all of this important time with my parents that I won't get back.

Things got better after that night. The mass they discovered during surgery was not cancer, and my dad began to improve enough that he was released on Friday evening to go home. I always miss my mom and dad. I miss my kids getting to know them as well as I do. But I know they are doing the best they can, and I know that we are blessed to know that no matter what happens in the future, we will see each other again someday. And there won't be these thousands of miles in between us then. My good brother in law, Kevin, showed a short video during the Mouritsen FHE Sunday night entitled, "Come What May and Love It." I couldn't figure out how to post the video on this same blog entry, so I added it as a separate entry.

All I could think of while we watched it was my mom and dad. There are so many things we can't control about our lives here on Earth - our age, sudden health problems, how regularly we get to see family, sometimes where we live and sometimes even death of our loved ones. I wanted to share this video and just say how much I appreciated watching it. I was reminded that no matter comes to us in our lives, we can find joy. We can "love it." I'm grateful you're still with us, dad. I'm grateful you are my dad and for the strong example of faith you always are. You still have a lot to teach us. I love you!

I was all upset because I set a New Year's goal to write on my blog at least once a month and I thought I had forgotten last month. It's only January, and already I have failed in my goal. But then I got on today and realized my last entry was January 1st!! Hooray! So I am blogging again today and hopefully will be able to keep this up all year. It's only once a month, right?

This morning has been pretty normal for me. I just got the kids off for school and we all waved as the bus drove away. I walk into the kitchen to finish clearing the kitchen table. As I went down the hall to put something in the dirty clothes, I notice Russell in his room. He has completely emptied his diaper bag all over his room and is chewing on something. It is a lego. He easily gives it up to me with a bunch of spit -- he is always very easygoing about most things. I shoo him away and pick everything up. As I finish, he walks in, snacking on something he obviously pulled out of the garbage can. I hate it that he does that, but it is seriously his favorite past time. I really get after him for that and swat him on his bum, pretty hard I thought, but he runs away laughing hysterically.

So I put the lid back on the trash can and go see where he went. Someone left the bathroom door open and he has opened cupboards and began throwing random things into the bathtub. I pick everything up, shoo him away, and shut the bathroom door. I take a bathroom break and soon hear too many noises in the kitchen. When I arrive, he has pulled off a plate and fork from the table (we had pancakes -- sticky with lots of syrup). He was pouring it all over himself and the floor and licking it up hungrily. Nice. So I picked him up, cleaned him off, and put him down. He started running as fast as he could back to his sticky spot of the floor. I have to hold the back of his shirt while I tried to rinse off and squeeze a rag. Then I let go and raced him to the sticky spot. I have to wash it up while I keep him away with my leg. He wails for a little while and then walks away. He doesn't throw many fits, unlike the rest of my children... After that, I finish clearing off the table so he won't pull down more dishes. I walk down the hall and find him again in his room. This time he found his new package of diapers I just opened last night and has pulled out all of them and proceeded to throw them all over his room. I shove the diapers into a corner and call it good.

I still haven't started any laundry, and Erin was crying all morning that she didn't have any pants to wear (she had several pair, just not any that she would agree to wear). I go into the laundry room to start a load. Russell follows me. The laundry room is his favorite place in the house besides the garbage can. I let him help me put clothes into the washer for a minute, but somehow he sneaks around me to grab the detergent cup. I use liquid detergent and keep the bottle and the measuring cup right behind the door. He knows that. He loves to grab the cup, pour out the little bit that is usually remaining in it, and then get down and spread it all over. He had succeeded in grabbing the cup and emptying it onto the floor before I noticed he had it. So I grabbed it, scooted him out of the laundry room, got the washing machine started and shut the door. He walked away, not a care in the world, and I went back in to clean it up.

I come back into the kitchen and he is in the garbage again (AAAAAAHHHHHH!!). He apparently couldn't reach anything good this time, so he has just tipped it over. A can with tomato sauce is spilled on the floor and he started walking towards me with an empty can of cream of mushroom soup. 

Where is he now while I'm writing this blog, you ask? I'm in the kitchen, so at least I know he hasn't been in the garbage, and the bathroom doors are closed. He is downstairs... but you can count on it that he is wreaking as much havoc as possible. How can a 1-year-old, the most pleasant baby I have ever had, cause this many problems??? I have decided my only recourse is to sell him to the gypsies. Does anyone have a number I can call?

Here is the story about how I lost all "plugging and unplugging the outdoor Christmas lights" privileges:

Scott isn't as mobile lately, what with his sprained ankle and all. So two nights ago, he was all propped up downstairs and asked me to go turn off the Christmas lights outside. As soon as I opened the door, a bird flew straight into the house, around the living room, and perched himself on our curtain rod. I looked at him in shock. "Scott?" I called. "I opened the door and a bird flew inside." "ARE YOU KIDDING ME??" he yelled back. "I ask you to do this one time and a bird flies in the house!" Amidst curses and other foul things I would rather not repeat (just kidding sweetie, I just thought it would be funny in my story ;)), I turned off all the inside lights, hoping he would find his way out the front door. In all honesty, he was this beautiful, small little bird and it was FREEZING cold outside and I just felt so sorry for him! I kind of wanted to let him just stay and warm up for awhile, but I knew I probably shouldn't let him set up shop inside my home. So I snuck over to the Christmas tree and turned off the lights and he started flying all over the room and into a couple of walls before he fell to the ground. I was horrified he might be dead, but as I scooted closer, he hopped around. The front door was open, but he hopped around the back of the door and I was worried he wouldn't be able to get out that way. In the end, however, all was well and he squished out through the crack, flew up onto the rosebush, and then shortly after, flew away. I felt happy he was ok.

Next evening as it is getting dark: Scott asks me if I would be willing to turn on the outdoor Christmas lights. "Are you sure?" I asked. "Remember what happened last time?" We both laugh good naturedly and he tells me I better not let any birds in this time. Does anybody want to guess what happened?.... That's right. As soon as I opened the door, the bird (I'm pretty sure it's the same one) flew straight into the house like he owned it. Maybe I was too sympathetic the first time. Now this little guy thinks he can just walk all over me. This time he flew into the kitchen and landed up on top of the cupboards. The first time, my boys were asleep and they only got to hear the story. But this time, they were wide awake, upstairs, and loving every second of it. They were running around yelling in excitement. Scott took them in a bedroom and shut the door so I could try to get the bird outside again. It wasn't as easy this time. I turned on the lights outside and all the lights off inside, but he could see lights shining in through the kitchen windows and I think it confused him. If I got him to move from his perch, he would fly around and around the kitchen about 10 times and find a new spot to rest. I'm sure he was freaked out. I finally got the idea to turn on the light in the living room, and it worked. He flew in there, and then I turned off that light, and after a few more spins around the living room and a little encouragement, he flew outside.

So now you understand why Scott took away my privileges. I guess I have to admit, it's probably for the best. Who knows what I would let in next time.

This is gonna be a good day. I can tell. This story may be geared more to the females in my audience, but you 'males' can still read it. ;) I had a dream last night that I was on my period. It was awful. I was so disappointed and cried a lot in my dream. Then I woke up, so happy that it was all a dream! A short time later I found out it WASN'T a dream. A period isn't a huge thing. I have had quite a few over the years. But when I wake up, sooo happy that I am not having one and then I get thrown in the opposite direction... well, it was hard to take. So tears in my dream and real tears this morning. *sigh* I am already having some pretty bad cramps and I am ready to just go back to bed and gorge myself on sweets. But Russell had this super stinky diaper, so I went to his room to change it. I had wiped him all clean but was looking for some cream for a little rash he had. When suddenly, much to my dismay, he started PEEING ALL OVER ME! I screamed and he stopped. I just sat there for a second in shock -- he hasn't done this in a really long time. And then he STARTED PEEING ON ME AGAIN!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! I told him to stop and quickly put on a diaper this time. WHY ME!??

That's it. I'm going back to bed.

Scott and I had a very eventful evening last night. It began regular enough... We were rushing to finish dinner, sending kids to the bathroom, helping Erin get dressed for her soccer game, and trying to clean off the baby. How he manages to get food on the back of his head is beyond me. Richie had been sitting on the toilet for quite a while. I had, in fact, managed to get everyone except Russell finished and sent out to the van when Richie called out that he was done.

I went in there, wiped him off good, and flushed a very full toilet. The water began to run... and rise... and continued running... and rising... and I took off in a panic to find the plunger. I came back and began plunging the toilet, careful not to splash and careful not to throw up. It's so gross sometimes to be a mom. The plunging was working, but very, VERY slowly. Scott came in and offered to help and I bit his head off, telling him to go load Russell in the car if he wanted to help. I finally started out to the van. Erin was supposed to arrive at her game early so the coach could work with the kids on some stuff. And we were already late. I met Scott on the way out and told him it was fruitless work and we were probably going to have to take the toilet apart. He started towards the bathroom and promised to join me later. I told him he would miss Erin's game if he got too involved with that toilet. He promised he would get there on time. So I left. As I was backing up, I asked Richie if he had put anything into the toilet. He said, "Ya. Ruffie." That's his word for dog. AARRGH!!! I got after him pretty good about putting things in the toilet and told him he had ruined it!! Now it was broken because he had put Ruffie in the toilet!! I called Scott and told him what Richie had done. I was super upset and complaining about how we were going to have to take the whole toilet apart, but Scott just said, "It's ok. We love having kids." I don't know why he was so calm about it. I guess we can't both lose control at the same time.

So the gist of the matter is, he made it to the game on time. And after we all got back from Erin's game, we had to to take the toilet completely apart. It was a lot of disgusting, smelly work, and I think it made both of us a little sick. Here is a picture of the little bugger who clogged up our toilet:

And here is a picture of the "Ruffie" he decided to flush down the toilet:

Scott wasn't as easy-going about it with Richie once he had to dig this guy out of the bottom of the toilet. He kept getting after him and saying he was going to spank him. Richie kept saying he wouldn't do it anymore and "NO! Me don't like spankings!" I kept laughing and laughing. Scott was even able to get the toilet all put back together again and it works!!  He is such a great handyman to have around. And amazingly enough, I think that -- yes, we both still love having kids.

Wow. I have so much to say. This may take awhile... :)
First of all, SCHOOL HAS BEGUN!!!! Hooray!! As you can see from the picture below, everyone woke up early and was excited for this big milestone. Erin began 3rd grade this year and Zach began 2nd!! I can't believe how old they are getting. Wally will start Preschool in about a week and a half. He is very anxious to begin since the older two have already started.

So our fall sports have also begun. Zachie is playing football with his first game on Friday!! Erin and Wally are both playing soccer. Erin's first game is next Wednesday, but Wally has already played his first game and he was so excited for it. He kept reminding me that if someone on his team scored a goal, it was okay because it was like he scored a goal too since they were on the same team. I wondered if he was trying to convince me or himself.

He did a great job and ran hard, but all those little 4-year-old's were getting pretty tired by the end of the game. They just kind of stood there and kicked at the ball. Then one of them would fall on top of it and they would all stand there for a minute. A coach would help the kid up, and then they would all start to tumble. (It probably helped that a few little ones would shove their way through the throng of children gathered around the ball) I swear the last 5 minutes were spent just falling and getting up. Scott and I were laughing so hard. Afterwards, Wally told me that soccer games were really hard.



Ok, next on my list is Erin got glasses!! Towards the end of last school year, she began complaining that she couldn't see the board at school and things, and so we promised her that we would get her eyes checked out for the next school year. We were a little late, and she didn't quite have them for the first day of school, but we picked them up yesterday and she wore them to school today. It is funny how excited you are to first get glasses. It's the wearing them year after year after year that gets old... She is sooo incredibly cute in them though! She is such a beautiful girl. After school yesterday, she and I were just sitting and chatting about school and kids and her teacher. At one point we were both laughing so hard, tears were coming out of our eyes. I haven't laughed like that since I was a teenager. She is already becoming one of my best friends, and she's not even nine years old. I am so lucky to have her!