July in Pictures

July was the month that Jonathan learned to swim. Anna started potty-training!!! The kids and I spent a wonderful 2 weeks in Kentucky. Dave and I redid our bedroom and it is now perfectly purple! Jonathan figured out that he could give Anna a piggy back ride! The kids discovered lightning bugs (up in Kentucky) and they made a lot of happy memories with their Grandma Jane and Aunt Meredith.

Never Mind

The baby fever has passed for the moment. If it comes back, I am sure it will retreat again when the Loud Morgans (I would not want them any other way!) come to visit next week. Jessica had some very valid points about the downside of pregnancy, and she is speaking from experience! And Lara did remind me of the chaos (but, also, total fun) of having three. But to respond to her comment, what if it's another boy, I actually want another boy. I want 2 boys and a girl if I am going to have three. As if I can put in a request. But seriously, never mind about the whole thing. It came and it went. I do still want a kitten, though. I went to Wal-mart and bought some cat treats for my own 2 cats that I ignore all the time. I thought maybe I should try nurturing them a little, get it out of my system. Then I will realize that I don't actually enjoy cats all that much (I am still maintaining that I am not a cat person) and that I am actually quite allergic to them. After petting my own cats, my skin will break out into whelps, or welts or whatever.
I am up from 3 AM after only 3 hours of bad sleep. I had the worst day and cried for (literally!) over 3 hours straight. I think this might be a new record. I think I had stored some tears up for a while and they all just came out tonight. But the reason I got up is because I kept waking up with a stabbing pain in my eye. I think I sprained a tear duct or a crying muscle or something! My eye seriously hurts. Now I am up worrying that I have caused some sort of permanent damage to my eyes from the great crying storm of '08.
I made a complete fool of myself with my crying in front of a group of people. I am sure everyone in my small group thinks I am crazy after the way I behaved tonight (or last night?) and I might actually be going (or have already gone) a little bit crazy. I just started weeping hysterically and had to walk out and leave and it totally made a scene and disrupted the group. That was after I had walked in late, started a stupid conversation about predestination that led the group's conversation off course, had my stupid phone ring loudly while someone else was talking, got worried because it was my brother J calling from his cell, which freaked me out and then when I got up later to go call him back, I locked myself outside and then had to knock on the door to get back in. I think I managed not to be disruptive for about two minutes, trying to act like I was reading my Bible with copious tears pouring down my face. Of course, I did not have a napkin or anything. And they were not the kind of tears that you can blink away or "cry up (an Oprah technique)" to get rid of. Then snot started streaming out. I then had to make a tearful and loud announcement that I was having a meltdown and I had to walk out. I really don't want to go back.
Does anyone else here remember the first day of third grade, Mrs. Burklew's class? The girl that started crying because she wanted to go home and did not stop until P.E. class hours later? I am sure Mrs. Burklew still remembers it. It was probably one of her worst first days of school ever. Having to deal with the hysterical, hyperventilating blonde girl all morning long. I think the guidance counselor came in, and Mr. Shepherd got involved too. Then he had to meet me at our car every morning and coax me out because I was so upset about leaving my mom. This was THIRD grade, people. Twenty years later, same situation, although at least only about 10 people witnessed this, instead of the entire Creel third grade (we had open classrooms or learning centers or whatever). By the time Dave got home, after NINE PM, after working for like, 15 hours, I was in complete hysterics. I could not calm down and I am sure my children are both traumatized. This is the EXACT type of thing that I vowed to shield my kids from. They should not have to suffer and be worried because of my suffering and worry. Normally if I cry in front of them, I just explain that I am a little sad, and they seem to be really empathetic. I've always thought that it is good for them, like a little learning experience.
Tonight I just completely lost it in front of them and I can probably bet that Jonathan will remember this for many years to come. Moments where your parents have psychotic breaks tend to leave a lasting impression on you. They will be up in about 3 hours and I will have to try and act like everything's OK when I am still falling apart right now. And seriously, I have a very sharp pain in my eye. If I have to go to the damn eye doctor and they ask me, how did you injure your eye and I have to explain that I pulled something crying, then that will be just the cherry on top of my big ole whipped cream pile of humiliation.

Somebody Stop Me!

I want a baby. I know it's inappropriate and the wrong time and probably a bad idea all together. But for some reason, I just want a baby, and I want to be pregnant right now! I think it's our friend Jana's fault. She is beautifully pregnant and I just keep looking at her belly... And then there's baby Hope at church, the most beautiful little baby girl I've ever seen (sorry, Anna, but it might be true.) Maybe it's because Jonathan starts pre-k and Anna starts preschool in August. For whatever reason, I just want a baby! It's like a craving for food, but much worse.
Somebody help me out here! Maybe I should just get a kitten.
Dave told me he would have a kitten if I got a kitten.
I'm allergic to cats and to be honest, I think I am a little allergic to pregnancy also.
But still, I want a baby.

Jesus Loves Me

I'm getting ready for a nursery training in the morning. I was looking for some songs to share with the babies and tots, and I stumbled across the lyrics to Jesus Loves Me. I had never heard the other verses. I guess it's just the week I've had, but I've been searching for comfort and reading my Bible and praying, and this little song just gave me that comfort (along with some tears!) I needed.
Here it is:

Jesus Loves Me

Jesus loves me! This I know, For the Bible tells me so;
Little ones to Him belong,They are weak but He is strong.
Yes, Jesus loves me!Yes, Jesus loves me!Yes, Jesus loves me!The Bible tells me so.

Jesus loves me! He who died, Heaven's gate to open wide;
He will wash away my sin, Let His little child come in.
Yes, Jesus loves me!Yes, Jesus loves me!Yes, Jesus loves me!The Bible tells me so.

Jesus loves me! loves me still,When I'm very weak and ill;
From His shining throne on high,Comes to watch me where I lie.
Yes, Jesus loves me!Yes, Jesus loves me!Yes, Jesus loves me!The Bible tells me so.

Jesus loves me! He will stay, Close beside me all the way;
He's prepared a home for me, And some day His face I'll see.
Yes, Jesus loves me!Yes, Jesus loves me! The Bible tells me so.

Sad

Today my Mom and my stepdad Ed got some bad news. I don't really know any details yet, but Ed's prostate cancer has apparently spread into his bones. There was some mix-up at the hospital and neither Ed or his family were informed about the results of his bone scan back at the end of May. Even worse, his oncologist did not know, never got the report, or whatever. So the plan was to start chemo soon after doing some more sophisticated scans this week. But now I don't know what the treatment plan will be. I guess we will know more when they can get in touch with the oncologist. What a bad mistake to make, on the hospital doctor's part. Ed has been really ill and weak and tired this whole summer. I feel so sad for him and for my Mom.

I was crying this afternoon, and the kids obviously noticed. I told them I was just sad, because Poppa Ed was really sick. Jonathan looked me straight in the eyes and said, Is he going to die?
I was pretty baffled on how to respond. I was honest as I could be, saying well, yes, eventually, someday, he would. Jonathan said, yeah, people get sick and they die and go to heaven to be with God. God's never sick. He then told me that he wanted to go to heaven, too, so he could still see Poppa. At some point in this conversation, I wrapped him up in a fierce hug. He said, in a quavering voice, Don't worry, Mama. I can still build Legos and stuff with you and Daddy.

That's something that Ed always helps him with. It just about broke my heart, the way he said it, like he was trying to be brave for me. I had no idea he understood any of this at all.
Then Anna got really upset and pale and came over to me and said, But you're sick, too, Mama.
I had to explain that I was a different kind of sick, not like Poppa. I had no idea her little 2 year old brain could make this connection.
This whole day has been so sad. I don't really know what to do to help them.

One year ago today!

I had this idea to look back at the pictures from exactly one year ago, and to post some. I had to laugh when I opened up the file. This was a great day last summer that I had completely forgot about. The kids got into my wallet and were having a big ole' time! They looked so cute when I found them that I took a picture instead of yelling.
I had also forgotten about Jonathan's eccentric stage he went through last summer. He wanted to wear these jingle bell Santa socks and wrist weights all the time. He also wanted to wear jackets all of the time. I tried to explain how crazy it made him look (and how bad of a mother it made ME look to let him wear a jacket in 95 degree heat) but he just did not care.

Our Bedroom is Done!

Okay, not really done. I still have to paint a lot of baseboards and the doors and stuff. The floor still needs some cleaning work. None of our pictures are on the walls (although I am enjoying the bare walls like you would not believe!) and our armoire is still empty and everything still in garbage bags. BUT! We were able to move back in last night. So, not that I am someone who keeps track of such things, that is about 58 days LESS than Dave thought. He estimated we would be out of our bedroom for a "couple months." We were out for 2 nights. I have to gloat a little, because he's normally right about every single little thing.
Dave also rearranged the furniture in a way that made our room seem twice as big and open and bright. I was sure our hulkish furniture would not fit any other way, but I was wrong (see?). I LOVE IT! I am very happy with the results. It feels like a different room.

Saturday and Sunday

I just woke up from a nap. I have something to share with you all: You fall asleep in Cracker Jack, you wake up with popcorn on your back.
Anna had a fit right before we both fell asleep. In her fury, she dumped a bag of Cracker Jack (Cracker Jacks? What's the correct plural?) out on the mattress. I meant to get it cleaned up, but I fell asleep in it instead. I woke up at 5:30 and had it crusted all over my tank top. I think I am going to change the sheets.
This is probably the most insignificant thing that happened this weekend. We went and picked up paint yesterday, and Dave finished steaming off all the wallpaper border. Last night, we got about half the room painted. We stayed up late and woke up early. We went to IHOP for breakfast (the kids slept over at my Mom's) and had some very delicious pancakes and hashbrowns. I got to church at 8:30, and everything went very well there. 2 volunteers were not able to show this morning, so I served at the first service. I was actually scheduled for the second. I introduced a new volunteer to the nursery during second service, and I was still able to slip out and attend church after the first song. So that made me very happy. I really missed our church and did not want to miss a third week of it. I went to church in KY, but I was homesick for New Hope.
I came home and painted for about three hours. Then I fell asleep and Dave finished the job. He is touching up the ceiling right now. Then we are going to move the furniture back, clean the floor, and then all we will have left is the trim! I am only going to paint the baseboards that are not hidden behind our furniture. I know this decision will come back and bite me someday, but I doubt we are going to be moving anytime soon, and our furniture only fits in the room one way. We slide everything into place in a certain order, jigsaw puzzle style. I am also going to repaint our bathroom doors and closet doors. Everything will look so fresh and clean!
Oh, I forgot. Yesterday, I went to a leadership meeting at church, which was very fun. Lots of laughter. Then we went to a cookout at Dave's officemate's house. We had a fantastic time with him and his wife. Our kids got along well. I really liked them (the couple and their 2 children) very much.
So a very positive and productive weekend all around! The only bad thing is I am in pretty bad pain from doing too much. I am still in denial that I have to limit myself at all with my current condition. Every time I do this much, my symptoms get overwhelming and I really suffer a lot. It seems that the better sleep I get and the more sensible pace I set for myself, the less physical pain I experience. I just can't accept that I have fibromyalgia, though. I mean, deep down, I think I know it's very likely to be an accurate diagnosis for what I have been going through, but I think I am still trying to convince myself that it is all in my head. I guess I'd rather be crazy than sick? I still have so much to do tonight. All of our clothes are in garbage bags and need to be sorted through and put back properly. There is SO MUCH CLEANUP to be done, not to mention that dinner still has to be had, and baths and bedtime routines for the kids. Maybe I should get moving, rather than just sit here and blog!
I just want someone to come in and finish this for me! At least I got a nap today.

Today I Decided to Wash My Bedroom Curtains

Today I decided to wash my bedroom curtains. When they came down, I realized how disgusting the blinds were. While I was cleaning the blinds, I saw the black dirt (mold??) that had built up on all the window frames. We took the blinds down, and then I looked down past the headboard (which blocks the window) and into the space between our bed and the wall. This completely horrified me! Visible dust bunnies, and not cute ones either. Big, ginormous, vicious ones. What I can only guess (hope??!!) is milk or formula or juice from Jonathan's bottles (yes, like from 4 YEARS AGO!) has dripped down the wall and baseboards and dried there, an awful putrid yellow. Once we got our matress and boxsprings (I am using the word "we" in a very loose manner here; Dave was doing all of the work.) up and out of the room, I saw what was under the bed. I have not vacuumed under there for (gasp!) FIVE YEARS! Now, please, before you judge me, I have been really busy having babies, and our bedroom furniture is INCREDIBLY heavy and solid. And I did not actually REALIZE that it has, indeed, been FIVE YEARS since we moved in. What was underneath the bed? Well, a little bit of heaven, and a little bit of hell. Anna was thrilled to find a long lost Little Critter book. Jonathan found some missing Transformers parts. I found my missing lavender strapped Reef flipflop. The ones that I bought with Lara, the day that we practically stole our meal at Longhorn Steakhouse? I always figured I would never get that flipflop back as my punishment for complaining my way to a free meal. Seriously, you don't know how happy finding that missing Reef has made me.
Now, the mattress is out, the bed is taken apart and vacuumed under. I am frantically cleaning. I just can't imagine all of the horrid dust mites I inhaled today. And to think that I have been sleeping under those curtains and mini blinds, on top of all of that insanely dusty carpet and surrounded by all of that dust-caked furniture. I just had a little freakout fit and decided I wanted the carpet ripped up. So now the carpet is ripped up. I'd rather live with 1960's era terazzo than have to keep suffering with my allergies. And after seeing all of the dog pee stains on the underside of the carpet we ripped up, I think I made the right decision. Now I feel like I can really get the room clean. I can simply Swiffer under the furniture, and we can put it on sliders so we can move it around for cleaner.
But now we have already moved all that furniture around, so why not remove the painted-over border (that we tried to remove when we moved in, but could not do so, so we instead painted over)? And let's be honest, what I really want is for the walls to be painted. I have never been happy with the color in there. I already (conveniently) have a lovely lavender color picked out. We moved the airbed that Jonathan and Anna sleep on into Jonathan's room, and we moved our matresses into Anna's room. So at the very end of this, my floors will be bare, my walls will be purple, and my curtains will be clean.

A Different World

I was flipping through some pictures from 2002 on our computer. I noticed that almost every thumbnail on every folder involved our cats, Sabrina and Sprite, or our dog, Maggie. Maggie died (of unnatural causes) while I was pregnant with Anna.

We still have the cats, but they no longer lounge about on the piano with gleaming black fur and shiny new collars. Since we started our family, the cats were put out and never let back in. I think they are actually happier that way. At least, that's what I tell myself.

Denial of Responsibility, or a Whole New Spin on Passing the Blame

The Dooligans 4, at the dinner table, chowing down. Jonathan passes gas, loudly and proudly.
Dave: Please try not to do that.
Jonathan: I like to sart (he replaces f with s when he talks).
Dave : Well, try to not do it at the dinner table.
Jonathan: But it's not me, Daddy. It's my butt that's doing it.

Bedlam

I was tutoring JoJo (my bee-yoo-tiful niece, Justine) and one of her vocabulary words was bedlam. She knew the definition of the word, but had to give an example of a time she experienced bedlam. The whole point of these vocab exercises is to give her something emotional or personal to connect the word to, in hopes that she will remember it better. Justine rubbed her forehead in frustration, trying to think of an example to write down so we could be done with our required hour and she could just get in the pool already! (I so remember what it was like to be 10 years old! I swear it was only a couple of years ago.) She was getting more frustrated by the second, because she just couldn't think of anything!
Why couldn't she think of an example, you wonder? Well, I certainly did not wonder. We were surrounded by screaming children in various states of undress. All three (although it really did seem like there were at least twice this many) of them were clamoring to either get in the pool or have some ice cream, or some Gatorade, or some strawberry milk, or some other form of sugar, which surely will not help pacify them one bit. The kids alternated between pleading for swimming and snacks and throwing themselves on the ground in hysteria, claiming that so-and- so had hit/kicked/slapped/looked at them wrong. Add to this situation two sex-crazed shi tzus, Biscuit and Mutton, who were engaged in their neverending HumpFest. Envision an elderly man, who is in an especially confused mood on this particular day, and is driving his normally loving wife crazy with worry by attempting to paint the walls and fix stuff when he is dizzy to even walk normally. Now imagine his wife, Nona Donna, who is a very kinetic and chaotic person all by herself, trying to corral and contain all 6 of these beings by constantly shushing them in a stage whisper and complaining about how loud and crazy everyone is acting.
Why, oh, why could Justine not think of an example of bedlam? I think the better question would be how she could think of anything at all while I was tutoring her. I think next time we will be finding a quiet place, like a coffee shop or something.