Leaky Diapers, Adult Sippy Cups, and Wuv Yous

Then maidens will dance and be glad, young men and old as well. I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow Jeremiah 31:13

Today was a day to keep everyone busy. Annie woke up at the crack of dawn (butt crack of dawn) and was seriously grumpy by 7:00 a.m. Dasha seemed to have rolled out of bed on the wrong side, as well,
so I figured that I better pull out the big guns or start living by the "it's 5 o'clock somewhere" mantra.

It was absolutely necessary that I make a grocery store run before doing ANYTHING, though. I was down to one diaper and that's just plain scary! I was also out of milk which is never a good thing with a two year old that can drink a gallon of milk a week just by herself! Anyway, I managed to get everyone dressed and waited patiently for Annie to take care of her morning "business" so I could change her into the last diaper. Apparently, Annie is backed up again. She did her business rabbit-style and I changed her and got ready to go. Before I could get everyone out of the house, Annie retreated to her "quiet corner" and loaded up her britches again. So much for the last diaper. In retrospect, I should have just shaken the pellets out into the garbage and put that diaper back on her! Desperate times call for desperate measures. Anyway, I did have a few swim diapers so I just used one of those. Annie always calls them Pull Ups. So, somewhere in my demented mind, I was thinking of them as being a kid sized version of Depends and had neglected to remember that swim diapers are designed not to be absorbent so that the babies don't take on water in the pool and look like bubble butts or get drug to the bottom of the pool with a diaper that's like a lead weight. Well, she wore the Pull Up / swim diaper to WalMart.

As we walked down the bread aisle, she started scooching around and saying, "I tinkle! I tinkle." Great! I know she's ready to potty train but I'm not so I just humored her until I saw the puddle. Crap. (Not really crap - pee). It was at this point that the whole issue of swim diaper vs. Pull Ups suddenly came to mind. As the normal four star parent I am, I just kept pushing the buggy along and told Annie that we'd change her when we got to the van. I did use a Clorox wipe to wipe off the buggy so don't boycott the buggies at WalMart!

Anyway, we decided to make a trip to the lake after our WalMart run. Some friends were going, too, so I figured that I wouldn't lose my cool too much in front of LRE PTA brass! :) Seriously, I knew I'd have back up if something went wrong.

What could go wrong at a huge bathtub full of dirty water, little nipping fishes, and loads of sand with who-knows-what in it? I don't know. Nothing went wrong. The girls loved it.

However, I overlooked the fact that Annie would want a float like all of the other kids. Can you see the look on Dasha's face in the picture above? Annie wanted the blue plastic kayak that another kid had and poor Dasha just didn't know what to do. The big kids NEVER tell Annie NO for fear she'll kill them!

Annie even found some ducks that she wanted to "meet." Thank goodness, the ducks were smart enough to elude her. The girl is like a blond version of Dora the Explorer! She just needs a pet monkey to follow her around and a talking map. (If you ask Grant, I bet he'd tell you that she already has a pet monkey but her name is Dasha and not Boots. Gotta love Grant)! She just loves to explore!

Once again, Dasha felt like Annie had strayed just a bit too far and went to fetch her. Where was I? My butt was firmly planted on a blanket in the sand. There weren't many people at this area so I could see the girls for the entire length of the beach so I let them wander. It was making Dasha nervous, though.

Even after Dasha drug Annie away from the ducks and "off limits" area, Annie still kept eyeing the uncharted territory. Given more than about 10 seconds, I'm sure she would have made a run for it!

After a couple of hours at the lake, the girls were both pooped. We headed home for naps. Annie slept for three hours! I'm thinking of investing in a GA park pass so we can go to the lake everyday! While she slept, I managed to get some laundry done and other items that I prefer not to have Annie's help with. When she finally awoke from her beauty sleep, she was raring to go! We went to my parents' house to feed their menagerie while they are away and stole dinner (Yogi Bear style) while we were there! However, as I watched Annie, I realized that she was completely wired! That three hour nap was entirely too much go-go juice for her! I was never going to get her to bed! My mind raced for the best places to tire a two year old out that are free. The girls are tired of the parks in this area so we headed to Kennesaw to a new park there.

The park was beautiful and had separate parks for younger and older kids which were both gated. Annie, of course, realized that there was more territory to conquor and had a melt-down trying to get to the other side! I absolutely loved that fence! The fence was the bad guy - not me!

Dasha stayed on the swings for close to an hour and sang to herself and was in her own little world. However, she was quite happy, so I left her alone!

Annie, on the other hand, didn't stay still for a second. She mastered every slide there and even tackled the climbing spiral. After about an hour and a half, I told her it was time to go and she actually agreed. Wow! That was a first. I told her that it was time to go and she simply said, "OK. Go home and get paci and blanket and go night-night." There was another couple standing next to us that heard our conversation and they commented that they wished their kids would act like that. I didn't know if I should burst out in hysterical laughter in their faces or just nod politely like I was a rock-star parent and wait until I got to the van to pee my own pants laughing. That's the first and only time that Annie has every willingly left a park (or anywhere for that matter)!

On the way home, we went the long way around in order to stop at Sonic for a cold treat. I don't ever want to see the nutritional information on their slushies but, hey, it was a treat!

When we got ready to leave, I poured Annie's drink into her sippy cup. She is famous for poking holes through the bottom of Styrofoam cups while in route! It really didn't dawn on me that the slushie might be too thick for her to drink that way. She started having a meltdown about half way home because it wouldn't come out. Duh! So, in normal parent style, I took her cup and began to suck on it myself trying to unstop the ice. As I gnawed on the cup and shook it downward into my mouth, I looked over to see the guy in the truck next to me staring at me like I was nuts. Oh well. I thought about rolling the window down and asking him if he wanted some but I didn't feel like getting shot tonight!

As you can guess, it's now 9:30 and everyone is tucked into their beds for the night. Each night, when I tuck Annie in, I always say, "Night night sweet girl. Mama and Daddy love you." Tonight, she replied, "Annie wuv Mama and Daddy." It was so sweet. She's never really replied to my nightly drill. I don't want her to grow up. Despite the bills that I now have to cover all of the gray hairs she's put on my head, I love her curiosity. (I love it even more when I have a break from her, though)! :)

It was a fun day. Today was a "no tear" day for me. It's probably only one of a handful over the last couple of months. Tonight, I'm heading to bed early to counteract Annie's schedule from today. The girl has Energizer batteries and she's either ON or OFF! Let's hope she stays OFF until about 7:00 tomorrow morning! That would be dreamy! Poor Dasha is feeling just as pooped! She didn't indulge in a three hour nap, either, and she's physically worn out from all of the activity today. She'll probably be really tired tomorrow and I'm sure her legs will hurt from all of the activity. Anyway, it's off to bed for me after I find my bed under all of the clean laundry that I neglected to put away!

Running Away and Pain Management

 Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.
Matthew 7:24-27

As I study, this verse keeps coming up. And, of course, you can't read this verse without starting to sing the old Sunday school song about the the wise man building his house upon the rock and the rain tumbling down. Right now, it's definitely raining in my world. However, I know that my house is built on a strong and solid foundation and isn't going to go SPLAT like the house built on the sand. However, just because this house is built on the rock doesn't mean that I don't have moments where I watch a little leak trickle down the wall or feel the wind blow through a crack. Today, I've been too focused on the leaks and cracks and not focused enough on what's under my feet and over my head - solid shelter.

Trickles and cracks -

• LA Fitness decided to draft my account for next month's pay even though I used a gift card to pay them with. Now, I'm going to have to fight them to get my money back. Yep. Just what I need.
• Realized my headlight is out and, of course, the kind of headlight the van has can't just be popped out and changed. Nope, too easy.
• Annie seemed stuck in a tantrum cycle today. She spent her nap time working on a dirty diaper (she's stopped up again) and then fell asleep on the way to pick Dasha up at 4:00. She then decided to try her hand at controlling her bed time and went bananas when I put her down. She started asking for anyone and everyone. She eventually settled on, "Wanna go to Daddy's house," when she realized that she'd pushed my button big time!

Under my feet and over my head:

• A friend's husband fixed Annie's window. Thank you SO much! Annie woke up at 5:30 this morning saying that she could hear the happy bird outside. This doesn't happen when the window is closed! (And, if any of you know that happy little bird, please tell him to shut his little beak until at least 6:30)!
• Dasha had a successful play date with a friend today. They went to Tea Leaves and Thyme and had a tea party, played beauty salon, and went swimming all in one day! She was so happy to have "fit in." (Dasha did tell me that she mentioned to the girl that she had gone to talk to a nice lady about her "anger issues" last night. Oh boy. I just keep waiting to get a phone call from that mom)!
• I do have a job and my paycheck will be direct deposited at midnight tonight! (You'll never know how many financial lessons I've learned this month! If you're husband pays all of the bills, please, take my advice and at least learn what's going on and what the bottom line budget looks like. You just never know...).
• Grant is headed to my sister's house in Tampa for a visit. He says he's looking forward to hanging out in the pool alone but I think he's dreaming about holding her newborn for hours! He's a true baby whisperer!

Yesterday, I was completely numb. I was afraid to let the anesthesia wear off for fear of losing control in utter pain. This morning, when Annie started jabbering at 5:30, my very first thought was, "I wonder what happens when moms run away? Where do they go? What happens to the kids?" Great way to start the day, huh? I drug Annie into bed with me and Netflixed her favorite Dora show in hopes that she'd sit quietly for another 30 minutes. There's just something SO different about getting up at 6:00 than there is 5:00. Getting up at 5:59 pisses me off more than rolling out of bed at 6:01. I think it's just logistics but, who cares, that's just me! As Annie sang, "I'm the map, I'm the map..." and jumped on the bed next to me, I just thought, "Well, I know where daddies go when they run away!" and I seriously started thinking through options of places I could go just to escape. I didn't say that I was being realistic - heck, remember that it was only about 5:45 at this point! Anyway, I did manage to stay in my bed until 6:05 (really only about 5:55 but I set my clock fast to trick myself - duh - then I lay there and argue with myself about what time it really is)! After that, it was all downhill! I was seriously afraid to get up for fear of unleashing a torrent of tears or some other weird phenomenon that happens when you go to bed with too many emotions trapped inside.

However, as my thoughts cycled in parallel cycles with Annie's tantrums, I started thinking about when my Grandma had knee-replacement surgery. Afterward, she could either endure the pain in order to regain the use of her knee or stay doped up on the pain meds and become quite useless since her knee wouldn't work properly. She ended up having professional help in the form of a physical therapist to help her work through the pain and regain the full use of her knee and have even more mobility than she did to start with.

That's where I'm at. I'd like to just stay numb to avoid the hurt. However, there's no forward movement in that. At this point, forward movement hurts like heck! I won't lie. I'm overwhelmed on a daily basis with what the future looks like and the loneliness I feel. Most days, there are a least a couple of bouts of tears over stupid things. Grant is growing very weary of my outbursts despite my efforts to keep my emotions in check while the kids are around. I could resort to some destructive habits like many others do to ease the pain but that would render me pretty useless. However, I've sought out some professional help and have decided that I'm just going to keep pushing through the pain and hopefully be able to find healing and be "new and improved" when this chapter of my story ends. I can't even imagine what healing looks like and how long that might take but I'm no good to anyone in a numbed state. (I would like to reserve a few days worth of numbness, though, for those exceptionally hard days)!

Wonder Pets, Anesthesia, and Breathing

Blessings:

• A friend from school surprised us with dinner tonight and supplies to whip up dinner for tomorrow night.
• Everyone sat peaceably through the $1 movie this morning without incident. I'm not sure that Annie ever even saw the movie. She was more interested in doing whatever it took to get the gummy bears that the kids were passing around!
• Having friends that you can be completely truthful with and not worry about them changing their phone number!
• Knowing that another friend's husband is coming to work on Annie's window tomorrow night.
• Thinking about how many friends have stood in various gaps over the last few weeks for hundreds of different reasons.

Uncertainties:
After our appointment tonight for Dasha, here are the highlights of what I was told...

• Don't leave her unattended
• She might be a danger to herself or others
• This is a serious problem (OK, by this point, my mind was numb and all I could think of was the Wonder Pets singing, "This is see-ree-ous!")
• Residential, inpatient treatment is recommended most times
• No remorse for her actions visible
• Come back next Tuesday and we'll talk some more (Really? Would you just like me to write you a check to cover your car payment? You tell me that this is see-ree-ous but then tell me to wait a week. Which is it)?

OK, folks. Please hear me. I'm trying so hard not to lose my mind or lose control! I know I've done nothing but whine about how this isn't fair and how I'm on such a roller coaster. After tonight, I just don't even feel anything. I'm seriously numb. I knew there were some issues with Dasha. There have always been issues with Dasha in some capacity. First they tell us that she doesn't have CP. Then they tell us that she does. Then we deal with helping her learn to walk after never walking normally before. Then we get her help to close the hole in the roof of her mouth that lets drool and other stuff run back out of her nose. Then there were the hosts of educational hurdles. But this was like getting hit with a boomerang in the back of the head. Except, it just kept coming back and dinging me again and again and I didn't have the sense to get out of the way.

There's a part of me that's in denial and I want to think that she'd never hurt anyone outside of this house but, geez, I'd never forgive myself if something did happen. And how do I handle not leaving her alone? Does that mean don't leave her unattended while she's taking a bath? Does that mean I park her in the kitchen while I get dinner ready? What exactly does "alone" mean? And inpatient therapy? Isn't that what you see in those movies where they show people in the loony ward wandering around naked and confused? She's not crazy! She's just.... I don't know! She's just Dasha! I just wanted someone to tell me how to handle her not lock her up! She'd cry forever and would probably disappear into herself even more! She was locked up when we adopted her. Ugh. Why? Why? Why?

Come on, now! I've tried so hard to do the right things in all areas minus the ones that my husband continues to point out that I royally screwed up. Why am I having to walk this road? I know this will be part of my story and that I will emerge on the other side but for tonight, the numbness is creepy. I don't even have any tears to shed. I'm not sure what I'd even be crying for. There's a big part of me that's scared that when I wake up in the morning, this numbness will be gone and it will be like anesthesia that wears off in the middle of an operation. I can't afford that kind of pain right now.

Integrity, faith, love, laughter. That's what I have to stay focused on. That's what I want my story to tell but tonight it's hard to discern any of that. I just want someone to take the load for a little while and let me take a breath!

Check one: single, married, separated, divorced, widowed

Strong Enough
Matthew West

You must, You must think I’m strong
To give me what I’m going through
Well forgive me, forgive me if I’m wrong
But this looks like more than I can do
On my own

I know I’m not strong enough to be
Everything that I’m supposed to be
I give up, I’m not strong enough
Hands of mercy won’t You cover me?
Lord, right now I’m asking You to be
Strong enough, strong enough
For the both of us

Well maybe, maybe that’s the point
To reach the point of giving up
‘Cause when I’m finally, finally at rock bottom
Well that’s when I start looking up
And reaching out

I know I’m not strong enough to be
Everything that I’m supposed to be
I give up, I’m not strong enough
Hands of mercy won’t You cover me?
Lord, right now I’m asking You to be
Strong enough, strong enough
For the both of us

‘Cause I’m broken
Down to nothing
But I’m still holding on to the one thing
You are God
And You are strong when I am weak
I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength
And I don’t have to be strong enough
I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength
And I don’t have to be
Strong enough, strong enough
Oh yeah

I know I’m not strong enough to be
Everything that I’m supposed to be
I give up, I’m not strong enough
Hands of mercy won’t You cover me?
Lord, right now I’m asking You to be
Strong enough, strong enough
For the both of us

This is my anthem for tonight.

After realizing that when I set the budget up, I only budgeted for four weeks in a month and not five, I just wanted to give up. I've tried so hard. I've put out more effort physically, emotionally, and spiritually over the last six months than I have in the last thirty-five years combined. I just wanted to pack my things up and run away from home to Neverland where I'd never have to grow up.

However, Annie's screams pulled me away from that path and I had to mentally unpack my bags. She and Dasha were playing together (right at my feet) and somehow, Annie went flying through the air and landed face first on the metal bar of her trampoline. Since I was daydreaming about my departure to Neverland, I didn't see what happened in full detail. I don't know if it was an accident or not. I fully expected to pick Annie up and see a gash on her head. Thankfully, we just ended up with a goose egg. After calming her down, I looked up to see Dasha just staring into space. What was she thinking? I called her name a couple of times and she didn't even flinch. What in the world?

And, it was about this time that secretary from the psychologist's office called and asked to reschedule tonight's visit for tomorrow. Yeah, sure, no problem. I can easily rearrange all of the sitters and wait for some answers! I'd worked all afternoon filling out paperwork for the appointment. There were pages of paperwork that asked for details of the pregnancy, developmental milestones, biological parents' and siblings' medical information, and early environmental stimuli. I did the best I could since we don't have too much information. I was plowing along through the pages without too much effort until I came to the pages about the present living conditions. It asked for Mom's address. OK, I handled that one with flying colors. It asked for Dad's address. Um, what do I say? I don't know his address. I left it blank. It asked for Mom's employer. No problem. Dad's employer? Once again, not a clue.

As I struggled with all of the big blanks, I came across the question that I prayed wouldn't be on those forms. What is your current status- single, married, separated, divorced, widowed. I started to simply mark "married" and leave it at that but then I had the realization that these folks were going to be reading the information I provided them AND talking to Dasha. Oh boy. I marked separated. It got worse, though. The next several questions asked about family changes over the last few months. The questions seemed repetitive and began to piss me off. How many ways can you state the same dang thing and do so with some sense of neutrality? Those papers still aren't completed. I thought about emailing them to Eric and having him fill them out but that's taking the easy road and I'm pretty darn sure that EASY isn't anywhere on my road map these days.

So, as I listen to Dasha sitting at the kitchen table tapping out an unknown rhythm with a pencil and humming to herself and know that I'm going to have to get really creative with our finances (or lack of) for the next few days, I just feel like throwing in the towel. I've tried. I've fought a really good fight but I feel like I'm losing and taking three kids down with me. However, I know that as much as I'd like to quit, I can't. The kids are waiting for me to lead the way. I'd like to lead them all to Neverland and teach them to fly like Tinkerbell and play like the Lost Boys and forget about all of crap they've been drug through but I know that's not the plan.

Six Months, Two Months, and Intimacy

Last Monday marked two months since he left.

Last Tuesday marked six months since the reveal of the full truth.

I'll never forget that ride. The drive from The Melting Pot to the old Publix parking lot is one of those memories that I'll always seem to replay in slow motion. As we pulled off Chastain and onto 575, he answered my question with a, "Yes." Apologies were made just like you see in the movies. My heart can not even begin to know if those apologies were true. That will be a question that will haunt me for the rest of my life. Then, he gave me my ring back and agreed to go to a week long counseling event in Branson, MO. Six months ago, I stood at the edge of this road and clung to the hope that I wouldn't have to take it. I turned the car around and headed on down the road for the remainder of the journey. Unbeknownst to me, he didn't. He was headed back to the dealership for another make and model that wouldn't require so much upkeep and still had that "new car" smell. He was trading in the station wagon for a sports car.

I put all of these thoughts on hold last week knowing that I couldn't handle everything at once coupled with Grant being away for the first time and Dasha's crazy streak. Those thoughts surfaced so many times last week but I continued to push them away knowing that when they finally forced their way out, it wouldn't be pretty.

Today, sitting in church, the tower tumbled and everything fell out. Andy finished part three of The New Rules of Sex, Love, and Dating. He spoke of intimacy (not just the bedroom kind) and what marriage can be. We had that pure marriage that so many other couples don't. We waited. Why didn't it work? I'm seriously putting forth a lot of effort to stay away from the "whys" but today, it all caved in. It's pointless to restate them all. I just don't get it. I'm truly trying to move on and focus on figuring out what my story will be and what that will look like but it's sure hard to write a good story without including the "once upon a time" stuff. Twenty years of history, flushed. I'll never forget the sound of that flush. The Wednesday morning of the CRCT. It was the math test day. That's the day that causes the most anxiety for the students. The kids had overheard our arguing well past midnight and I ask him if Grant could stay home with him. He said, "No. I'm leaving." There was nothing else. I can't remember if I begged or even said anything. The kids hugged him good-bye. The girls had no idea that it was not the normal kind of morning "good-bye." April 20, 2011 (his birthday), 6:30 a.m., I walked out of our front door and left him to pack. At 9:30, he texted me and told me that he was out of the house and on the way to Texas and we could come "home." Coming home to discover all of the things that he'd taken was simply another jab at my soul. And that, thus far, has been the darkest moment of my entire life. I watched my husband wrap our dead daughter in her blanket and walk her to the waiting vehicle from the morgue. I stood over my daughter's casket as it was lowered into the ground and that moment doesn't even begin to measure up to the realization that you've been left alone with three kids, financial responsibilities, a job, and a shattered heart. That was the sound of the "flush" of twenty years and these are the memories that flooded my mind as Andy kept talking about marriage this morning. So many times I thought about getting up and leaving the service but I was sandwiched in the middle of the aisle and trying not to let on that I was having a major break down so that would have just made an even bigger scene!

After grabbing a sandwich at Subway with the kids on the way home from church (thanks to a gift card from a student), I told the kids that we had to get to work on the yard to get the HOA off of our back. I put Annie down for a nap. Grant stayed inside to listen for her to wake up (or try to escape) and mop the floor. Dasha wanted to help pull weeds. I went to start the mower. Nope. No go. I'm no stranger to mowing the yard. I know to check for gas, make sure the spark plug is ok, make sure there's oil in it, and prime it. Nope. No go still. Then, I decided that I'd at least use the weed eater to trim some areas while I pondered the mower. Nope. No go on that either. Seriously? The blasted HOA has sent two letters now and they just don't seem to care that I'm doing the best that I can.

Eventually, I called Dad in for back up. I love my Dad dearly but he doesn't know when to stop. He had a stroke less than a year ago but won't let me do anything when he's around. That's why I try to get it all done before he recognizes there's a need! However, he continued to mow the front and back and then trim and edge things. By the time we convinced him to come in, he was so tired that his speech was garbled. We've learned that this is an obvious sign that he's overdone it. (We see it frequently). Anyway, he then decided to take on the shutters on the front of the house. They're cheap plastic things that are pegged into the stucco with little plastic screws that look like they belong in one of those Fisher-Price workbench toys that you buy for a toddler. The screws bake in the sun and then the heads fall off and then, eventually, the shutters fall to their death in the holly bushes. In normal Dad style, he decided to epoxy the shutters on and screw them down. To access the shutters outside Annie's window, he opened the window (we have the windows that will open into the house so you can clean the outsides - ha) and hung out the window. I pretended to sit and read with Annie. I was really poised and ready to grab his butt when he started falling out of the window! Geez. Despite his best intentions, the window is now stuck open. I just discovered this when I went to put Annie to bed and there was a puddle in her floor from the storm that just moved through. Now, who the heck do I call to fix a window that won't close?

Although these details aren't really all that important in the big picture, it's these kind of things that are like bulldozers tearing down the remaining blocks that were still standing. Eric was great at getting things done around the house and I never had to think twice about trying to beat my Dad to completion! These little "piss ant" kind of things are just like extra kicks while I'm already down.

I had another realization during service this morning, too. As Andy spoke of what true intimacy means, I realized that so much of what I'm grieving is that intimacy - someone who knows everything about you and still accepts you. Those silly private jokes, those "looks" that communicate all sorts of messages without ever even opening your mouth are all missing now. That intimacy is what made so many things bearable. Just knowing that someone else knew the struggles and was there in the middle of the night to let you cuddle up and cry or just drool and snore away the worries of the day on their chest made all of the burdens so much lighter. And, in all honesty, this is one of my biggest issues right now. I always feel like he has her arms to run to at night and to tell his dreams and fears. I don't. Yes, I have some very Godly girlfriends who have done everything in their might to stand in the gaps and fill the voids but it's not the same (sorry, ladies). So, as I head to bed, I will do my best to refocus my mindset and put all of the "whys" and "it's not fairs" away. This is how my life story will read and I have to work on making it the best story ever for the sake of my kids and those around me. I'd like to think that my story might one day inspire others who are left standing in the middle of the road realizing that someone just stole the last several chapters of their story, too.

So, as I head to bed tonight, my head is full and my heart is sore. I know that my life's journey will look a lot different than I ever dreamed it would. However, I'm trying to be extremely intentional about making sure that the story is full of integrity, truth, love, and laughter. That's not always easy these days - especially laughter. 

Tomorrow, I will attempt to perform surgery on a window and a mower. Did you know that you can learn a lot of things about home repair on You Tube? Then, I will prepare for the visit to the doctor with Dasha. I just wish You Tube offered some insight on that situation!

The New Rules for Love, Sex, and Dating (Part 3)

Indians, Man Paraphernalia, and Mama's Tears

  Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash  Matthew 7:24-27

 I absolutely love my boy. But, that boy is becoming a man right before my eyes. When we dropped him off last Sunday and he marched away from us, I know he had tears in his eyes. I sure did. Over the last few months, Grant has been my rock. I'm NOT condoning that and saying that any parent should rely on their child for that sort of support. However, Grant has always been an old soul and knows when to make you laugh, when to stay under the radar, and when to simply stare at you in disbelief. To say the least, I missed him this week.

Last night, Dad and I headed to camp for closing ceremonies and decided we'd rough it for the night and camp there, as well. Well, I'm not sure that I've ever driven in weather like that before. What an adventure. I kept waiting to see Dorthy, Toto, and a house fly past us as we drove into blackness. I didn't look but I'm sure Dad's knuckles were white from gripping the "oh crap" handles as I slalomed the curvy road with torrential rain coming from every direction and tree limbs and leaves littering the road. Do you remember that scene from Forest Gump where he describes the rain as coming sideways and even up from the ground? That was the kind of storm we drove through. All week, as storms have rolled through north west GA, I'd convinced myself that the camp would have some sort of shelter for the boys where they'd take refuge from the lightning and hail. Upon our arrival, I was sadly disappointed. I'm SO glad I hadn't bothered to ask anyone with real information about the shelter. The boys were in their military type tents under the trees and the power was out (not that they had any outlets at the site). They had an outhouse and an area with outdoor showers. OK, this was definitely not how I'd pictured my baby at camp. Sometimes, it's very true that ignorance is bliss. I would have never been able to sleep this week if I'd known that the camp accommodations weren't even 1/2 star.

Anyway, we had dinner with the boys and the teacher in me was just about to ooze out. The boys all started stomping the wooden floors in "We will Rock You" fashion. When they grew tired of that, they started slapping the tables to their own rhythms.  I'm so thankful for men who have the patience to deal with craziness like this and even have enough humor left in their hearts to join in! (Can anyone imagine what the lunch room monitors would do at LRE if the entire cafeteria burst forth with these shenanigans)? Since the power was out, dinner was served in the dark. I guess there's been a burn warning so they couldn't even use candles. I decided to skip the main courses because I seriously couldn't even see what they were serving! I recognized a bun, a cookie, and a bag of chips. It was like I Spy in the dark or Where's Waldo without Waldo!


After dinner, we waited with the boys until closing ceremonies began. By this time, I was cold and wet and had to pee but was NOT going to use the facilities near the campsite. Yeah, there were seats on those outhouse style benches but 19 boys had been using them so I was pretty sure that more than one boy had missed and highly doubted there was any TP out there! No thanks - especially not in the dark! In the words of Dr. Seuss, "Not in a box. Not with a fox!" So, I sat on hard cold stones in the amphitheater waiting for the ceremony to begin. At every scout function I've been to, they seem to take great pride in producing the corniest skits that have ever been invented. We were treated to several of these and then the official ceremony began. Several of the boys who'd been invited to the scout "All Stars" (Order of the Arrow) came out dressed in full Indian (Native American?) garb. At this point, I was several bricks shy of a full load and had a great urge to stand up and start singing, "One little, two little, three little Indians. Four little, five little, six little Indians..." You get my point. Then I noticed that one of the boys had on swim trunks under his tunic. At that point, my mind wandered to the actual lyrics of the YMCA song. This kid sure wasn't as buff as the Indian from that song but, nonetheless, I just about giggled out loud in the midst of a very reverent ceremony. I think my dad was getting aggravated with my fidgeting and stifled giggles. Then, one of the boys behind us pooted (get real, think about what they'd been eating all week and the sound that would be produced sitting atop a cold flat rock). Once the giggling started, I knew it was all over. The ceremony finally ended and we headed back to camp.

The remainder of the night was pretty uneventful considering we were in a campsite with 19 boys and a few leaders. The next morning, the boys cleaned up (I learned some new tactics to impose here at home regarding cleaning) and waited for inspections. As we waited, the boys all hung out around a common table and did boy / man things. However, I overheard one of the boys ask Grant why his dad didn't come. Grant simply answered him that Dad was in Texas. The other boy quickly asked, "Why?" Grant, once again, simply answered, "He has to work there for a while." Oh my. I'm so glad I didn't say something that would have blown his cover. After a moment of awkward silence, Grant said, "But he'll come with me next time." The other boy just went on to say that he had fun with Eric and started talking about some memories from rifle camp. OK. My tired self just about lost it. Control was not easy but I managed to walk away. When the boys were checked off with their campsite clean up, we headed home.


Thinking I was being proactive, I pulled Grant's footlocker from the back of the van once we were home and unloaded all of the dirty clothes into a basket and started trying to figure out what would / might come clean and what needed to be tossed. Then, I saw that the care package I'd sent him was still in the bottom of the trunk pretty much untouched. I'd gone to a lot of trouble to mail that sucker. Two girls in tow, a long line in the post office, and almost $15 to mail a bunch of junk. I didn't say anything to him but noticed the box his dad sent had been ravaged. All of the goodies from that box were opened and laying in the bottom of the trunk and had obviously been played with. What the heck? Was my stuff too silly or not manly enough? I felt majorly injured but I knew I was tired and making way too much of things. I tried to let this go. Then, I heard Grant upstairs crying. He'd just taken a shower. When I asked him what was wrong, he didn't want to talk about it. Long story short, he had a rash in a very manly area. As any good mom would do, I asked to see it. He was mortified. Mental note - do not ask to see son's "man" paraphernalia anymore. I didn't know if he had some sort of jock itch rash thing (is that possible?) or just was chaffed and simply needed some good old fashioned talc powder. I told him to call Eric. After several attempts to reach dad to no avail, he simmered down and rested. Since Annie was asleep and Dasha was reading, I collapsed on the bed with him. That's when the questions started. I'm SO glad I wasn't standing up.

The first question was lobbed without warning. "Mom, do guys really shave in the summer but not in the winter?" Without hesitation, I said, we'll it depends. Some guys grow their beards out in the winter but others don't. I went on to tell him that other guys have jobs where they can't have facial hair and have to shave constantly. At that point, Grant gently told me he wasn't talking about THAT hair! I felt like someone had just jumped on my guts and knocked the air out. How do you answer that one? I asked him who told him that and he gave me a name (one that surprised me).  OK, this wasn't the worst question he could ask so I just told him he'd need to talk with his dad about that one if he needed a serious answer. Part of me thinks that he lobbed that one out of thin air just as a warm up and for the shock factor.

About that time, a torrential downpour started. Grant said, "What's that saying?...Is it that a gay baby is born every time it rains?" Um. What kind of camp did I send my son to? I told him that the saying was, "An angel gets it's wings every time a bell rings." He quickly informed me that I was wrong and there was a new saying. Over the next hour, our conversation meandered down roads that scared me more than that drive into camp yesterday. He's one of the youngest boys in the scout group so I know there are old more "experienced" boys there but I just really never thought about all of the things boys might discuss late at night when they are tired and silly. (Duh, you'd think I would've remembered some of the stupid things I did at camp)!

I realized that I am very ill-prepared to raise a teenage boy. For some moms, they had brothers growing up so they know a little more about this phase of life. Nope. Not me. This is very uncharted territory.  Even after almost 15 years of marriage, I still don't know everything there is to know about boys other than they never grow up. (I've been told that is a universal truth that you can bank on kind of like taxes). I left Grant upstairs watching a movie and started to compose of list of questions for Eric that might help me but I quickly realized that this stuff comes up in teachable moments and there's no way for me to truly be prepared. (I never said I was a Boy Scout)! This isn't like a test I can study for.

I have to be thankful that Grant is willing to ask me those hard questions at least part of the time. I also have to be thankful that Eric is much less prone to the shock factor than I am. He can keep his cool and answer anything without hesitation. So, while I felt pretty battered and useless after an afternoon to Hazmat duty trying to clean camp clothes and answer questions that felt more like grenades, I'm heading to bed knowing that at least he's willing to ask us and not his peers. It was obvious that he hasn't shared his current family situation with his peers (I didn't question this) but at least he's talking to someone here at home. I'm just holding on to the knowledge that we did everything in our power to build a firm foundation for him that can weather these storms and all of those that life will bring as he travels from being my baby boy who enjoyed me squeezing his little dimpled cheeks and telling him how cute his hiney was to this Goliath of a boy that now hides his parts and pieces from me and requires his Dad's guidance about all of that business now. Oh how the time goes by.

Bride of Frankenstein, The Waterboy, and Balanced Nutrition

Last night was a sleepless night due to the thunder and a scary blood sugar drop. The sleep I had was punctuated by Annie crying out for different reasons. Once, she wanted to be rocked. Once, she wanted her blanket straightened. Who knows. Dasha, on the other hand, didn't really even make an attempt to sleep. She snuck her CD player under her covers and jammed all night long. When I went to wake her up this morning, she looked like the Bride of Frankenstein!

I dropped Dasha at camp with her picture and revised letter for the music teacher. (I gave up on the picture and just hoped the heart next to Mr. Andrew's name was a design element).

On the drive, we talked about appropriate behavior with a "stranger" that happened to be male. I felt like Bobby Boursin's mom from Waterboy telling her that little boys are the devil. I sort of waited to hear a retort from the back seat say, "But, Mama, I'm just the waterboy!" Ugh. Anyway, I thought I did a pretty good job of putting forth the boundaries.

I'd promised Annie that we'd go to the park. She keeps thinking that we're going back to DAC Kids to the "pirate bouncy" but I'm still having Godzilla nightmares so I'd checked into some other parks in the area. However, it started raining. Crap. How do you explain to a two year old that playing in the rain isn't a great thing - especially on metal play equipment. I can see the headlines now! "Mom and toddler fried like an egg on the metal slide when lightening zaps them!" No thanks. So, we headed to the next best wonderland, Grandma's house. When we got there, I pulled out the dollhouse and all of the accouterments that go with it. We set the furniture up but Annie was never happy with how I Feng Shui'd the house. I was just putting into practice all of those things I've learned on HGTV. Annie insisted on putting the furniture (specifically the nursery) on the roof and scattering the other rooms around the floor. Geez. While she worked on her own little Vern Yip stylized home, I turned the TV on. One of the great things about Grandma's house is that she has ALL of the cable channels. I'm not sure if they even realize this! I found one of my favorite movies, Grown Ups, on and settled in. I continued sitting on the floor so Annie would have the illusion that I was still playing doll house but I was secretly tuning her out. Every time I see that movie, I just have to laugh out loud at the little character who still nurses at age four. It wouldn't be so funny if those folks didn't really exist. Anyway, Annie eventually decided she was hungry and wanted a snack. (Ewwww. I went right from that weird little nursing boy into Annie wanting a snack). She wandered into the kitchen and came back with a bag of Cheetos in one hand and a massive bag of M&Ms in the other hand. Grandma always keeps a stockpile of junk food. It's like she's preparing for a sugar shortage. Anyway, what's a mom to do? I was exhausted and had no desire to have to make Annie something to eat so I gave her a measuring cup full of M&Ms (only 1/4 cup) and Cheetos (1/3 cup). The girl was happy and quiet and I got to keep watching my movie. She sat in Papa's chair and had her lunch. They say you should eat a "rainbow" of food. Well, M&Ms cover red, yellow, blue, green, orange, and brown and the Cheetos definitely have the orange covered. Don't judge unless you want to come be my personal chef.

Anyway, we finally headed home after the sugar rush wore off for a nap. (I didn't get a nap but Annie did). We went to pick up Dasha and were once again greeted by the camp director. She told me that Dasha had a crush on the music teacher. I wanted to say, "Yeah, no duh! She wants to marry him and live happily ever after!" I calmly acknowledged her statement and let her know I was aware of the situation and we'd talked about it AT LENGTH!

We got home and got everyone settled and began to work on Dasha's costume for tomorrow's camp "concert." We were making a skirt out of bandannas. I sat the sewing machine up on the ironing board (um, stupid stupid stupid) and put the iron on the other end of the board so I could use it to. At the time, it seemed like an organized and original idea. Nope. I now have quite a burn on my arm from where the momentum of the sewing machine zipping down the bandanna hem knocked the iron over and onto me. Once again, my brain cells seem to be migrating south for the summer so I can't say that I was too surprised. Then, I heard that blood curdling scream that every mother dreads. It's that mouth open but no sound comes out cry. But, when the sound finally comes, it's like a tornado siren going off. At this point, I realized that Annie was no longer sitting on the bed. Crap. She was in Dasha's room. I've been doing my best to keep the girls separated after the last incident. Annie sat on the bed holding her face. Dasha sat on the bed looking like a deer in headlights.

I won't relive the details of the next few moments. As far as I can figure out, Dasha slapped Annie across the face because Annie was petting the cat too roughly. However, Dasha's story continued to evolve and change. I called Eric immediately and he video chatted with her but was just as lost as I was. 

The good - We have a counseling appointment for Monday night for her and Annie is ok. The bad - Dasha played the crazy card on me when she got out of the bathtub and I ended up loading her and her stuff in the car and dropping her at Grandma's for the night. I know when I've reached my limit and DING DING DING - there it was! Not only do I not know what's going through Dasha's head but I don't know how to parent it. Is she truly in control of her actions? I just don't know anything other than I needed a break.

So, tomorrow, I will leave to go and sleep in the woods alone and be reunited with Grant after a week at camp. I'm actually looking forward to spending a night alone in a hot tent with hard rocks for a pillow. I'm looking forward to having Grant home again, too. I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I didn't realize how much grunt work he does around here like taking the trash out umpteen times a day and watching Annie for me to go to the bathroom alone (or at least with the door closed)!

For tonight, I'm going to bed and praying that I can sleep through the night and that Annie will do the same. Vivid dreams have tormented me for the last few nights and I'm just so tired that I hope I can tune them out tonight. I need sleep.

Why Wednesday?

Susan's Why Wednesday?

Here's the link to the majority of my thoughts today. Not very constructive but that's where I am today.

Not much to say today. Annie and I made brownies. It was all fun and games until she discovered that she was actually stirring chocolate. Before I could stop her, she scooped a big handful of raw brownie mix up and crammed it in her mouth. Then, of course, she started screaming about her hands being dirty! Wow!

I rode the emotional roller coaster for the majority of the day. I'm ready to be done with this ride. I'm getting motion sick. I swear someone keeps adding more upside down loops to this ride!

The rest of the day consisted of me taking dinner to a friend, receiving dinner from a friend, watching Dasha lick her arms and hands as she watched a movie and then gnaw on a wooden toy spoon. I feel like she's slipping away and I don't know what to do. The camp counselor told me that she'd gotten sort of possessive of the male music teacher. I didn't think too much of it. She likes music. She likes attention - especially from men. However, she asked if she could write him a, "Thank you," note to take to him tomorrow. I didn't see it as a problem until she wrote in it that she wanted to marry him and live "happily ever after." Crap. I can't do this! I didn't sign up to do this alone! I don't have answers and I don't have the man-power to chase from doctor to doctor and it's not the responsibility of my friends to have to do it either. Ha! Last night, I got to such a point that I called a friend and told her to prepare for Dasha to be an overnight guest. I can make assumptions and predictions all day long about what's going on in her mind but I also have to maintain my own sanity. I just need someone to stop the roller coaster for a few minutes and let me get off, have a major break down without affecting anyone but myself, and then I'll be glad to get back on the ride again. To add to the stress, Grant is still in the woods with storm warnings issued and predictions of hail, damaging winds, and flooding. I don't have any contact with him and haven't had any since Sunday afternoon. The Scoutmaster simply sent an email saying that there were lots of "homesick" boys but they'd "survive." That sure makes me sleep a little better tonight. 

I have one child dreaming of marrying the music teacher (and then possibly stabbing him with a paper clip), one stranded in the woods with 500 other boys, and one that has decided that sleeping is optional and won't stay in her bed through the night. This is perfect. I do appreciate all of the offers for help but, sometimes, you just don't want outsiders coming inside. The materials are too volatile and hearts are too broken.

Paperclips, counselors, ER trips (not), and quiet

I'm emotionally spent and most of my humor was drained by 9:00 a.m.

In normal Annie style, I was awakened about three times during the night for various reasons. At 3:45 this morning, she kept pointing to her closet and screaming something unrecognizable while snot ran down her face and onto my arm. She was really freaking me out! It was like a bad scene from a horror movie. I didn't know if it was going to turn our Poltergeist style and the closet was going to suck us in or if it was going to be Chuckie style and one of her dolls was going to pop from the closet and try to kill us. Nonetheless, I had to admit that there were noises coming from her closet. Not noises like when one of her toys gets buried at the bottom of the toy bucket and continues to make annoying noises. This was like something scratching at the door trying to get out. My first thought was, "Crap! Something or someone is in that closet and they're going to kill us and Dasha will never even know that something happened!" When I finally got the nerve to turn the overhead light on, I saw the cat's claw poking from under the closet door. I guess I shut her in the closet when I put Annie to bed. Man. After that, it took me forever to calm Annie back down and get her to bed. Me, on the other hand, had trouble going back to sleep because of the adrenaline that was still surging through me! You can have some pretty crazy thoughts when you think you're about to be attacked! Whew! SO, after very few hours of sleep, I woke up this morning ready to do nothing more than go back to bed. Dasha, Annie, and the cat, on the other hand, were ready to start the day.


After feeding the girls, they went into Annie's room to play while I finished getting ready. I've learned that if I position myself just right in front of my bathroom sink, I can see Annie's room out of the corner of the mirror. As I stuffed the toothbrush in my mouth, I saw Dasha stomp her feet in anger at something. We've been working on finding other outlets of expressing frustration so I walked toward Annie's room (toothbrush still in my mouth) only to see her lunge toward Annie with something and then Annie start screaming. Now, I had a victim and a felon on my hands, a mouthful of toothpaste, and no where to spit. Man. Bottom line, Dasha had unfurled a paper clip and used it to jab Annie because she was frustrated with her. Remember my post about Dasha and my cat? Can this get any worse? I took Annie into the bathroom with me and sat Dasha on my bed and started counting to ten over and over again. Who the heck dreamed up that coping skill? It only gives me time to get more pissed off because I forget what number I was on! After hacking up the remainder of the toothpaste and checking Annie out, I tried to have a reasonable conversation with Dasha. Nope. Again and again, she just said that she couldn't answer me about why she'd done it and couldn't really even describe if she felt bad that she'd done it. I left her sitting on the bed. I'm already walking one road that I never dreamed I'd have to walk and now someone has thrown another speed bump right in the path. Shoot, this isn't even a speed bump. This is more like a brick wall with concertina wire along the top. I texted Eric but what's he supposed to do? I was standing right there with her and didn't know what to do. So, I did what any sensible mom would do. I took her to camp and dropped her off. (Please know that I wouldn't have done that if this hadn't been a special needs camp where the ratio is about 1:2 and, honestly, she'd never do this when she's in that kind of environment).


After dropping her off, I had another conversation with Eric and then called the pediatrician's office and left a message for the nurse. The nurse called me back and encouraged me to take her to the ER to have her checked out. Really? I know this is serious but I've dealt with doctors enough to know that they'd talk to her, check her out, ask a bunch of questions, give her lots of attention (what she wants), and then refer me to a child specialist. I'm sure she'd even tell them I've been giving her wine juice, sleeping pills (Melatonin), and making her clean the kitchen. Yep. Been there, done that, didn't get any answers. SO, I'll continue making some phone calls tomorrow to try to find some professional help.  At this point, my humor headed south for the afternoon.


Mom went to pick Dasha up from camp and took Annie with her while I went to a counseling appointment at church. Open up scab, pour in salt, close up scab, slap a Band-Aid on it, wait and let it fester, and do it again in two weeks. Yeah. Then I headed home to deal with another phone counseling event. Except, the weirdest thing happened. There were no kids at the house and it was quiet. I can't tell you when I've been in the house alone. I actually heard the hum of the air conditioner. I went upstairs and curled up on my bed to take the phone call and then saw the laundry bag at the bottom of the bed moving. Seriously? If the closet creeper hadn't done enough damage, now there was something in the darn bag. (I hate to pair socks together so I just throw them all in a bag and let folks make any match they'd like. Hey, don't criticize until you've tried my methods)! Once again, the cat was the culprit. She had pawed the socks out of the bag and decided to have herself a little nap inside. Is this really what this blasted cat does all day long?

So, now that all of the drama has passed (momentarily), I have to go get the girls and probably untie Grandma or maybe even get her out of the closet if Annie was involved in the capture. But, for probably the first time in my life, I invited someone over to play cards. I've never been social. I'm happy as a lark to be a house troll but I'm finding that keeping my mind busy helps with everything so, I'm stepping out. (Note, most folks who come visiting just show up unannounced because they know my tendencies)! :) So for tonight, I'm done. There will be no laundry cleaning or kitchen clean up. The house looks like a disaster because I live here with three kids. That's just the reality. I will enjoy company tonight. I will make sure that all paper clips are safely locked away. I will lock the cat in the garage before going to bed. And, I will be so appreciative of all of the funny emails from last night about my day. It makes me happy to know that someone is getting a good chuckle out of my life right now. (I'm being serious). There are days when I want to turn this blog off because of the nakedness I portray here but knowing that others are amused, makes me laugh because I know you're laughing at me because it makes you feel better about your life! That's sure why I laugh at other people! :) And to think that you all thought I was laughing WITH you! Ha!

The birds, the bees, Dasha, and wine juice

Whew! I admit that I thought this would be an easy week since I only would have Annie to deal with from 10 - 3 each day. Ha! I forgot that one child can be just as demanding at 3! We dropped Dasha off at her camp this morning. She was so excited! Then, Annie and I went to DAC Kids in Acworth for a bit of play time. I was really hoping that she'd play until she dropped and then she'd wait to fall asleep until I got her home. At that point, I'd have at least two beautiful hours of me time! Um, that's a big a big NEGATIVE on that one good buddy, 10-4?

So, Annie started exploring and playing but without warning, Godzilla showed up. This Godzilla had long blond hair, an eight year old sister, and a mom who was more interested in her phone than her child. This blond behemoth first found Annie in the pirate bounce house. In one fell swoop, she put Annie to the ground like you see those creepy WWF guys do to each other. I was kind of wondering if this girl had a metal chair somewhere outside the bounce house that she was going to use in the next round. Annie quickly bounced back up but looked around a little addled. She's used to being the one in charge. I tried to let the incident go and give little Godzilla the benefit of the doubt. Nope. Wrong. She made a bee line for Annie again and knocked her to the floor. This time, she flung her entire body on top of Annie. Godzilla's older sister pulled her off of Annie and tried to convince her to be "nice." Ha! Annie ran over to the side of the bounce house and asked me to kiss her to make her feel better.  I wanted her to get out of the bounce house but I'd just paid $4 for her entertainment and by golly, Godzilla wasn't going to deprive her of it! As Annie started bouncing again, the little lizard literally jumped off of the side of the bounce house and slammed Annie to the ground. At this point, I was done. Three strikes and you're out! I crawled into the bounce house and began pulling Annie out. I didn't know if her screams were from Godzilla or from me pulling her out. I glared at little lizard face and said, "You must stop doing that. You've hurt my little girl." That little booger actually smiled at me. Lord, help me. At this point, the older sister also started pulling the next WWF champion from the bounce house, as well. I watched her deliver her to their mom. The mom glared at me. The older girl came back over and apologized. Weird. You send your eight year old to do your parenting? Nice. We moved our activities around the corner to the air cannons. OK, maybe I did try to encourage Annie's aim with the foam balls in the general direction of Godzilla but the balls never made it out of the sand pit. Darn. As we continued to build sandcastles in the dry sand (very frustrating), lizard girl took one more shot at Annie. She came from behind and belly bumped Annie to the ground. I never saw it coming. (Believe me, I'd have managed to accidentally throw my foot out in front of her! Oops)! With a face full of sand, Annie was not happy. Another mom also saw the drama and looked at me as if she was waiting for me to go postal and get myself on the six o'clock news. But Godzilla's mom rounded the corner about that time. That also happened to be about the time that I calmly told the little lizard that I needed her to leave Annie alone. The mom puffed up and growled, "I don't like your attitude toward my daughter." I wanted to say, "I don't particularly like your little lizard daughter!" I didn't. She then went on to laugh and say, "They're just being kids." At that point, Godzilla and her tag team mom had pushed me too far. I simply said, "Yeah, but then they grow up and become adults and it's not so cute anymore." What the heck? Where did that come from? I don't ever say things like that! Well, Lizard Mommy retorted, "I don't like your attitude." As this was going on, the older child was pulling on the mom and telling her that little lizard had been bullying Annie. I was a little confused as to who the adult was but that seems to be a problem I'm having lately in many arenas! Anyway, we finished playing without anymore attacks from Godzilla or Lizard Lady and headed home.

The air isn't working well here at home so I decided to divert to mom's house. Empty house. Free food. Free air. (And no lizards with yucky mommies)!

 This is what I was rewarded with! A happily sleeping baby.

Or not! Annie resurfaced on the kitchen table. (Why is this ok? Grant was never allowed to sit on the table OR do a whole list of things that I let Annie do. I'm not sure if they've all just worn me down, if I'm wiser and know which battles to pick, or if this is just the new "normal")!

Nap time didn't last too long. That's always the risk I run when she's not in her own bed. Oh well. We headed to pick Dasha up from her first day at camp. Annie was worried that Dasha wouldn't be home tonight and would be "camping" like Grant was.

The group running the camp is called FOCUS. What a wonderful organization. I've never met so many people who really love what they're doing. I admit that I felt a little guilty. I expected to see other parents there dropping their kids off, looking flustered, and running for their freedom. Heck, that's what I was planning to do. But, the parents and workers were all mingling around like they were best buddies. I guess this organization does lots of get togethers for special needs parents. Anyway, I got Dasha settle in and tried to slowly walk toward the door and pretend that I wasn't escaping. I don't know these people. I didn't want to give them the wrong impression. (Like Lizard Lady probably got).

Anyway, when we went to pick Dasha up, the kids were in their closing music activity. A guy with a guitar sang what I considered to be preschool songs and would have never thought to engage in with Dasha. He sang about speckled frogs on a log. There were hand motions and silly sounds. Dasha was so engaged. She was laughing with the girls on both sides of her. Ugh. My heart broke. She fit in here. She was accepted and was thriving. I so rarely give her that. I struggle to operate on her level but these people knew exactly how to reach her.

I wanted to ask if next week's camp was full but reality set in. Doh! We headed home and Dasha never took a breath from Acworth to Woodstock! She told me about playing with flash lights in the dark, using sticks to beat out rhythms, and "cooking" her own snack. What a different child! She was so thrilled to have been a part of something constructive. So many of her peer groups simply accommodate her but leave her on the sidelines because she doesn't understand the concepts or can't physically keep up. This place was perfect! The camp theme is Hollywood and today's show was Toy Story - one of her favorite movies! Tomorrow is Peter Pan. (On the way out, though, she made it a point to inform the director that her Daddy had just been to Hollywood and brought them gifts. She then, as usual, divulged family secrets that I'd rather not have scattered around like litter. Man. Why does she do that)?

Once home, she spent some time video chatting with Eric about her day. Then, a friend called to let me know she was brining dinner by. What a blessing. She also brought something as simple as some cut flowers from her parents' garden. Man. Just to know that someone went to trouble for you means so much these days!

As we waited on dinner, I asked Dasha to get a library book and read for a while. I secretly hoped that she'd close her mouth long enough to let my ears stop bleeding! As she grabbed for her book, her book mark fell out. At the top, clearly in her handwriting, it said, "I love Alex." (Does anyone else hear the Jaws theme music when things like this happen)? I asked her who Alex was. I was hoping that it was the Alex that she'd grown up with in Russia. If that was the case, then this was just a sweet friendship kind of thing. Nope. Nope. And, NOPE! She said that it was Alex from her class at school. By this point, I was doing Lamaze breathing techniques. NOOOOOOO! I casually (with a shaking voice) asked her what "love" meant. Knowing that my own heart couldn't take too many foul balls in this game tonight, I held my breath. (Please sit down before you continue reading). Dasha very calmly said that it meant that they were dating. I then asked what people do when they date. She said (and I quote), "Well, they usually go places, hold hands, and have sex." Godzilla girl, O where art thou when I need you? I needed lizard face to jump into the scene with that metal chair and clonk Dasha out and them me! Sex? Are you kidding? The girl still doesn't even understand how to handle her period alone yet. We sure haven't reached the chapters on sex yet! Can you see me having that conversation with her? A conversation about the birds and the bees with a child who explains throwing up as pooping out of your mouth! Every emotion conceivable was coursing through my body. I'm SO glad Grant wasn't here to over hear this. After wiping the drool off my chin that had poured from my gaping mouth, I said, "Dasha, what does sex mean?" She said, "It's just like when you're friends with someone." At this point, I took the first breath I'd had in several moments. The conversation continued that we needed to just say that she was "friends" with Alex and that we didn't need to use the sex word. She did go on to ask what it meant and if it was a bad word. I told her we'd talk about it a little later. In my mind, a little later means in a few years. Over dinner, I did manage to ask her where she'd heard the word because my mind started to race about this beautiful place that I'd called "camp." What if the unthinkable had happened to her? She'd do anything anyone told her to do! She calmed my crazed nerves by telling me that she'd heard about sex at school because some kids were talking about doing that with their friends. Um, I think I'll be purchasing one of those bubbles like that kid lived in when he went outside in that 80's movie. Dasha doesn't have the filters that Grant does. She takes everything she hears as truth. I don't want her innocence compromised!

So, as this evening ends, I've dealt with Godzilla, her mom, Dasha's sex question, and my own issues. But, I think the best night-cap for the day is what Dasha just asked me. My mom brought some grape juice over a few days ago. I decided to have a glass to finish off the sugar high resulting from the brownies from dinner (yum) - just what a diabetic needs before bedtime! Dasha stuck her head in the office and said, "Mom, can I have some wine juice, too?" All I could muster was, "Go for it!" For all I know, she might be in the living room downing a bottle of wine right now. At least she'll sleep tonight! But, my luck will be that she'll go tell her camp counselors tomorrow that mom let her have wine juice before bedtime last night! If you see me on the six o'clock news, you'll know that DFACS came for me or I ran into Godzilla again and couldn't control myself!

I'm still trying to finalize tomorrow's plans. Annie thinks we're going back to the "playground" while Dasha is at camp. Um, don't think so unless I take the wine juice with me. I have two counseling appointments for tomorrow afternoon so I might need that juice for later in the evening, though! Ugh. Putting your life back together after the puzzle pieces have been tossed in the air isn't fun - especially when you don't know what the puzzle is supposed to look like!

Here's to the birds, the bees, Dasha finding her "place," and wine juice tonight! And, to think it's only Monday!

Father's Day 2011

So, here's how it worked. Grant and I were up until after midnight trying to calm jitters and get everything he needed stuffed into his foot locker. I'm sure if someone had been spying on us, it would have looked like a scene straight out of a Three Stooges show. We had to squeeze a week's worth of clothing and camping gear into a box that was about 2' X 2' X 3'. Granted, he only took a few pairs of undies and even fewer shorts! In any event, it was quite an ordeal. Then, we had to figure out how to reconnect his Camelback bladder and discovered that every time you pushed on it, the valve opened and it looked like it was peeing. The wall in my bedroom looked like a toddler had whizzed all over it by the time we were finished "testing" it. I think Grant and I both ended up about wetting our pants laughing so hard. (Ok, ok, ok. I did wet mine. After three kids, if you laugh too long or too hard, it's all over. And, yes, the Depends are definitely on aisle 4)! Anyway, despite our silliness, Grant's nerves were shot. He finally fell asleep in my bed and I just left him there. When Annie got up at 7:00 this morning, he didn't have any other choice but to get up or risk having her land on his head since she utilizes my bed as a trampoline from 7:00 - 7:30 each morning while I try to get ready.

Grant had planned on video chatting with Eric at 9:00 this morning before he left but Eric was thinking on Central Time and Grant was thinking Eastern Time so there were some really dicey moments there until they finally made the connection. As they chatted and Eric tried to calm Grant's nerves, I finished getting ready and got the girls ready to go. That was all pretty uneventful. I even managed to pull off a "real" breakfast with eggs, grits, bacon, and "bang" biscuits as Annie called them because when you open the cardboard cylinder, they pop out with a "bang" sound. Dasha complained that my turkey bacon didn't taste like Daddy's real bacon with maple syrup and Grant didn't really want to eat at all but we managed to make it through. Just when I was getting cocky about my accomplishments of the morning, I heard it. The unmistakable sound of a child puking! There's no other sound like it in the world. To a mom, that one sound can change a complete day's activities! I went in search of the culprit and found Grant on the stairs with barf running down his chin (sounds like I just opened the envelope in a Clue game and read the answers - Miss Scarlet in the conservatory with the lead pipe). His nerves got the best of him. Then, he did the barf shuffle down the hall and into my bathroom to continue bowing down to the porcelain god. Why did he have to go to my bathroom? The girls' bathroom is at the top of the stairs within sight of his first puddle! Anyway, after doing clean up duty and trying to explain to Annie what had happened and what Grant was doing, we managed to start moving everything that needed to be loaded up toward the front door. (As a side note, Dasha told Annie that Grant pooped out of his mouth. I didn't bother to correct her but the look on Annie's face was priceless)! So, to move the story along, we unloaded the stroller and other baby paraphernalia from the back of the van and reloaded the camp items including a fishing pole with a rogue hook - ouch! When I had the girls in the van and securely tied down, oops, I mean gently strapped into their seats, I turned to see Grant at the door in tears. At this point, I wanted to scream out, "Put you big girl panties on and let's go!" But, thank goodness, the urge to spew negativity passed quickly. As usual, his answer to my question of, "What's wrong?" is always followed with, "Nothing!" Duh! You're standing on the front porch crying and nothing is wrong. Hmmmm.... Well, if that means nothing is wrong, then there's been nothing wrong with me for quite some time now! :) He finally said that he'd forgotten to tell Daddy Happy Father's Day and felt like he'd disappointed him in a situation concerning a pocket knife he lost. I told him to text Daddy Happy Father's Day but I don't know if he ever did. And this is the funk that surrounded the air in the van all the way to camp. I really never got to have a conversation with him about being away from home and getting homesick and all of those other things I wanted to tell him like I'd be praying for him each night and that this is his time to shine. Blah! I let all of the other little details (I think of them as piss ants) get in the way of helping smooth the way for Grant. My prayer tonight is that God will wrap him in His arms and comfort him as only He can do. He's never been away from home for more than a couple of nights and that's always been with my parents. I know he'll be just fine. He's in the hands of very Godly and caring men who will look out for him but.... It's not me (or Eric or my parents).

Now, I get to go upstairs and face just the opposite situation. Dasha starts her week at day camp tomorrow. It's Camp Hollywood and they have a different theme each day. Tomorrow is Toy Story. This is a special needs camp so I don't have to worry that she'll be left out or made fun of. However, she's so excited that she probably won't sleep. Last night, it was Grant's anxiety insomnia and tonight it's Dasha's excited insomnia. Tomorrow night will be my exhaustion insomnia!

As the day draws to a close, I've realize that I've really guarded my heart today. I know my dad suffered because of it. There was no fanfare for him today for Father's Day. That's not fair. He has done so much for us. You'll never meet a more generous, hard working, teddy bear. He still believes that Grant can walk on water and does anything in his powers to help him do it! Considering that his stroke was less than a year ago, it's miraculous how much he's doing! Today, he went went us to drop Grant off. When the troop started to line up and march toward their site, Dad conveniently had to go and get Annie a cup of water to avoid letting the other parents see the tears that welled up in his eyes as Grant got teary eyed but tried to keep his lip from quivering. The man is made of steel on the outside but nothing but mushy goo on the inside. As I said, I hate that there wasn't the usual fireworks and pomp for him today but it was a tough day for us all.

As for Father's Day and Eric, I don't have too many words to wrap around that right now. He was absolutely the best dad in the world for our kids. He knew how to push them just beyond their comfort zones to help them grow but they all knew and trusted him to be standing there to catch them when they stumbled. He always pushed them to do the right thing even when it wasn't easy or popular and he always walked the walk just and didn't just talk the talk. I'll never forget the afternoon he took Grant out back to talk to him about the birds and the bees. Grant was only in the 2nd grade but some kids at school had been talking smack and we felt strongly about helping him have some foundational understanding so he could filter what the kids at school were saying. I expected that Grant would be mortified. He wasn't. I peeked at them from our bedroom window upstairs as they talked, waiting for Grant to jump out of his shoes and run screaming from the porch but he never did. That foundation that was laid that day still gives us strength as we have to talk about all of the other smack the kids talk about at school. How would we have ever answered the question, "Mom, what is a douche bag?" if that solid foundation hadn't been laid earlier? Eric was always the hands-on dad. Yes, he traveled quite a bit but when he was home, he could run the house and manage the kids better than I ever could. I swear he could have the house cleaned top to bottom, have a gourmet meal on the table, and have the kids' homework finished and still not be addled. Dads are just different than moms. I keep using past tense verbs as I reminisce about his role as a father. No, I know that he's still their dad and will be forever their dad but his role has changed now. We all mourn that loss on a daily basis. When he was on full-time duty, he was the best dad that there ever was. I see him in the kids everyday. He laid down foundations for all of them in a way that moms just can't do. Now, as I try to add to that foundation, I find myself trying to squeeze round pegs into square holes constantly. I can't ever fill his shoes - nor could anyone else.

I didn't mean to go into that rant. I honestly started this post with one word and planned on leaving it at that. The word was #$%^. I think that about sums it up. Maybe I should have left it at that. That's what I seem to be knee deep in right now!

I also added the transcript of the Focus on the Family broadcast from their archive. I absolutely love their ministry. They practice living in the real world and doing their best to help real people practice their faith while living in that world and successfully relating to the others who live there too! (See earlier post from today).