8 hours ago
Usually, Brooklyn is really good about taking her naps. But every now and then something comes over her and she just fights me on it, despite her obvious exhaustion. A few days ago, she was so mad at me because I removed all the library books from her room. Why did I do such an awful thing? Because she was sneaking them into her bed and wasn't going to sleep! Perfectly logical, I feel. Not so much from her point of view. She proceeded to wail and cry loudly for a good hour and a half. And I am not even exaggerating. This child has a will of iron. Wonder where that comes from...
So the wills clashed and she lost. When I finally noticed a change in my environment....namely the absence of wailing, I tiptoed into her bedroom as quietly as I could. Drat these squeaky hardwood floors. This is the sight that met my amused eyes. And she always insists on stripping down for her naps. I quietly draped a blanket over her and left her to sleep. A few hours later, she awoke happy and perky as though nothing had happened. Although she did tell me later, almost casually, that she screamed for a long time in her bed. I said, "yeah, you did. But don't you feel better for sleeping?" She said she did.
My friend Liz, from Mabel's House, just told me that she might be the last person on earth to get into the TV show, Lost. Well, I'm always that way, too. Except in this case, I'm not into Lost. I'm just beginning to read Twilight. I was that way with the Harry Potter books. In that instance, I held out because the whole wizard thing...it seemed evil to me.
Until I actually read one. Then I was hooked. Completely and utterly. I lost myself in that make- believe world of good and evil, of friendship and loyalty, of right and wrong. I want to GO to Hogwarts. Living in a castle like that for a school is pretty much my dream come true!! So, I sighed and kept on reading, book after book.
This past Tuesday, my favorite childcare worker at our gym, Ms. Sonja, started telling me about how much she loved the Twilight series. She offered to loan me her copies if I wanted them. Sure, why not? I love to read! So, I picked them up from her at the gym last night (she gave me books, I gave her some cream cheese brownies...) and started reading. I'm only a few pages in yet, but it definitely has me interested.
What makes this all so bizarre is that I'm equally into John Adams and Princesses (the one about King George III's daughters). I'm wondering if it's possible to give yourself brain damage by simultaneously reading about the life of one of America's founding fathers and a vampire love story. Could the two be MORE different? It might make for some crazy dreams...we'll have to see.
Until I actually read one. Then I was hooked. Completely and utterly. I lost myself in that make- believe world of good and evil, of friendship and loyalty, of right and wrong. I want to GO to Hogwarts. Living in a castle like that for a school is pretty much my dream come true!! So, I sighed and kept on reading, book after book.
This past Tuesday, my favorite childcare worker at our gym, Ms. Sonja, started telling me about how much she loved the Twilight series. She offered to loan me her copies if I wanted them. Sure, why not? I love to read! So, I picked them up from her at the gym last night (she gave me books, I gave her some cream cheese brownies...) and started reading. I'm only a few pages in yet, but it definitely has me interested.
What makes this all so bizarre is that I'm equally into John Adams and Princesses (the one about King George III's daughters). I'm wondering if it's possible to give yourself brain damage by simultaneously reading about the life of one of America's founding fathers and a vampire love story. Could the two be MORE different? It might make for some crazy dreams...we'll have to see.
We have officially completed our 90 days of P90X, but have decided that we're having too much fun to stop! We're starting round 2. I was checking online at Beachbody.com and apparently, that's pretty common. So, we're chilling for a week or so and then hopping right back into it. We have definitely seen results and are looking forward to even better results. I tried to see what other people were doing on the Beachbody message boards, but got so overwhelmed with how much was out there that I gave up. Maybe later. Anyway, here are our before and after pictures. We have yet to actually measure ourselves to see the difference in actual numbers, but we both feel better, look better...our clothes are getting baggy and we're happy! And we still have a life! Haven't stopped doing any of our normal things...although working out has always been one of our "normal" things.
I feel so old even saying this, but 14 years ago when Kyle and I first met and began our relationship, we corresponded through letters. We met at freshman orientation at the UofA and we had a little over a month left of summer before school began. Talking on the phone was too expensive - there were no free long distance cell phones - plus, I was to spend several of the weeks in between orientation and the start of school traveling - Summit, Florida senior trip....And I'm not sure email really existed then like it does now. The most logical thing for us to do was write letters.
There is something absolutely wonderful about receiving a letter. Knowing that someone sat down with some paper, a pen, and a mind full of thoughts waiting to be released on paper just for your eyes. Ideas, thoughts, expressions reserved exclusively for you - to be read by you, things that occurred to them throughout the day that were stored away to share with you, observations made with you in mind, funny anecdotes reserved to share. And then the act of writing, putting your flesh and blood hand to the paper and individually forming each letter and word, composing sentences, thinking about the perfect word to capture the moment and filling a page with those thoughts. It is so intensely personal.
I remember driving down to Florida with my dear friend, Amy, reading to her the letters Kyle had sent me. Together, we savored every funny thing he said, every clever thing he wrote, sharing an excitement over the pending school year and the untold delights it was sure to hold. At Summit, during mail call, my heart would pound waiting to see if they called my name and if that meant Kyle had mailed me a letter. He had. Several, actually. And I would rush back to my room to savor the experience of that letter in private. I cracked the seal of the envelope with as much anticipation as great explorers do when unsealing a sarcophagus. I just KNEW something delightful and precious lay within those precious pieces of paper. A roomful of gold would have been of less value to me than the contents of Kyle's letters.
Over the course of our relationship, we wrote many many letters to each other, all of which I have saved. During our months apart in the summer, we continued to write letters, until email usurped paper as the standard form of correspondence. When Kyle transferred to OBU, I checked my email practically every hour, hoping for a long email from him. It didn't have quite the same thrill as a real letter, but it was close. And I did print them out and save those, too. As he did mine to him. As a result, Kyle and I have amassed a serious correspondence collection over the course of our relationship. And that correspondence grows- every card, note, post-it, that he gives me, I save in a treasure box. I hope someday our children will read them and gag at how romantic and goofy we were.
They will most definitely know that our love was quick and deep and wide and earned and tested and prayed over and cried over and rejoiced in and a source of sustenance to the very breath we drew and continue to draw.
These letters of ours are brought to the forefront of my mind as I read the letters written by Abigail and John Adams. Bear with me, people. You're likely to hear more than you ever wanted about these two. They are having quite the impact on me. And hopefully will on you, too.
I read aloud to Kyle an excerpt of a letter from Abigail to John: " I have amused myself in reading and thinking of my absent friend, sometimes with a mixture of pain, sometimes with pleasure, sometimes anticipating a joyful and happy meeting, whilst my heart would bound and palpitate with the pleasing idea, and with the purest affection I have held you to my bosom 'til my whole soul has dissolved in tenderness and my pen fallen from my hand."
He marveled with me at the depth of feelings within their correspondence and commented to me, "People just don't talk that way anymore." And he's right. Which prompted me to start thinking about just why that is.
I have a theory: For starters, we no longer fill our minds with literature and poetry as they once did. While we may read books periodically, the bulk of our input comes from television and movies. Soundbites have replaced literary poetry and beauty. Back in the Adams' day, their language was more full than ours because they filled their minds with the classics, instead of sitcoms. Secondly, technological advancements have simultaneously sped things up and pushed us apart. Telephones, cell phones, email, texting, blackberries, iphones...all these marvelous things have constricted our sense of time. We moved from letters to email because it was more convenient and quicker. So the amount of thought we put into our correspondence was reduced. We could just shoot off an email as fast as our fingers could type. No more pain in our hands, but less exercising of our mind and imagination, too. With cell phones and texting, the whole language with which we speak has been reduced to fractions of words, symbols representing what used to be whole words, numbers replacing letters, sacrificing the beauty of words for phrases and sayings that can quickly be punched into a keypad with your thumbs.
How far we've come and how much we've lost. Who has time to even type the word "tenderness" much less apply it to a written sentiment. It is heart-breaking that we continue to butcher our language, hacking it willy-nilly into choppy bits and pieces so as to zap nifty communiques through the air. Not only are we losing touch with the very words we once used to express the depths of our feelings to those we loved, we are leaving no record of the relationships we've fostered. One could question whether relationships really are being fostered...
I know my children and grandchildren may make faces as they read the words written by my love and I to each other, but they will be able to see in great detail the progression of our friendship to affection and the deepest of loves. And they will know that what we shared was sincere and eloquent. Maybe it will inspire them to restore the language we seem to be losing.
I remember driving down to Florida with my dear friend, Amy, reading to her the letters Kyle had sent me. Together, we savored every funny thing he said, every clever thing he wrote, sharing an excitement over the pending school year and the untold delights it was sure to hold. At Summit, during mail call, my heart would pound waiting to see if they called my name and if that meant Kyle had mailed me a letter. He had. Several, actually. And I would rush back to my room to savor the experience of that letter in private. I cracked the seal of the envelope with as much anticipation as great explorers do when unsealing a sarcophagus. I just KNEW something delightful and precious lay within those precious pieces of paper. A roomful of gold would have been of less value to me than the contents of Kyle's letters.
Over the course of our relationship, we wrote many many letters to each other, all of which I have saved. During our months apart in the summer, we continued to write letters, until email usurped paper as the standard form of correspondence. When Kyle transferred to OBU, I checked my email practically every hour, hoping for a long email from him. It didn't have quite the same thrill as a real letter, but it was close. And I did print them out and save those, too. As he did mine to him. As a result, Kyle and I have amassed a serious correspondence collection over the course of our relationship. And that correspondence grows- every card, note, post-it, that he gives me, I save in a treasure box. I hope someday our children will read them and gag at how romantic and goofy we were.
They will most definitely know that our love was quick and deep and wide and earned and tested and prayed over and cried over and rejoiced in and a source of sustenance to the very breath we drew and continue to draw.
These letters of ours are brought to the forefront of my mind as I read the letters written by Abigail and John Adams. Bear with me, people. You're likely to hear more than you ever wanted about these two. They are having quite the impact on me. And hopefully will on you, too.
I read aloud to Kyle an excerpt of a letter from Abigail to John: " I have amused myself in reading and thinking of my absent friend, sometimes with a mixture of pain, sometimes with pleasure, sometimes anticipating a joyful and happy meeting, whilst my heart would bound and palpitate with the pleasing idea, and with the purest affection I have held you to my bosom 'til my whole soul has dissolved in tenderness and my pen fallen from my hand."
He marveled with me at the depth of feelings within their correspondence and commented to me, "People just don't talk that way anymore." And he's right. Which prompted me to start thinking about just why that is.
I have a theory: For starters, we no longer fill our minds with literature and poetry as they once did. While we may read books periodically, the bulk of our input comes from television and movies. Soundbites have replaced literary poetry and beauty. Back in the Adams' day, their language was more full than ours because they filled their minds with the classics, instead of sitcoms. Secondly, technological advancements have simultaneously sped things up and pushed us apart. Telephones, cell phones, email, texting, blackberries, iphones...all these marvelous things have constricted our sense of time. We moved from letters to email because it was more convenient and quicker. So the amount of thought we put into our correspondence was reduced. We could just shoot off an email as fast as our fingers could type. No more pain in our hands, but less exercising of our mind and imagination, too. With cell phones and texting, the whole language with which we speak has been reduced to fractions of words, symbols representing what used to be whole words, numbers replacing letters, sacrificing the beauty of words for phrases and sayings that can quickly be punched into a keypad with your thumbs.
How far we've come and how much we've lost. Who has time to even type the word "tenderness" much less apply it to a written sentiment. It is heart-breaking that we continue to butcher our language, hacking it willy-nilly into choppy bits and pieces so as to zap nifty communiques through the air. Not only are we losing touch with the very words we once used to express the depths of our feelings to those we loved, we are leaving no record of the relationships we've fostered. One could question whether relationships really are being fostered...
I know my children and grandchildren may make faces as they read the words written by my love and I to each other, but they will be able to see in great detail the progression of our friendship to affection and the deepest of loves. And they will know that what we shared was sincere and eloquent. Maybe it will inspire them to restore the language we seem to be losing.
"All that part of Creation that lies within our observation is liable to change. Even mighty state and kingdoms are not exempted. If we look into history, we shall find some nations rising from contemptible beginnings and spreading their influence, until the whole globe is subjected to their ways. When they have reached the summit of grandeur, some minute and unsuspected cause commonly affects their ruin, and the empire of the world is transferred to some other place.
Immortal Rome was at first but an insignificant village, inhabited only by a few abandoned ruffians, but by degrees it rose to a stupendous height, and excelled in arts and arms all the nations that preceded it. But the demolition of Carthage (what one should think should have established it in supreme domination) by removing all danger, suffered it to sink into debauchery, and made it at length an easy prey to Barbarians.
England immediately upon this began to increase (the particular and minute cause of which I am not historian enough to trace) in power and magnificence, and is now the greatest nation upon the globe.
Soon after the Reformation a few people came over into the new world for conscience sake. Perhaps this (apparently) trivial incident may transfer the great seat of empire into America. It looks likely to me. For if we can remove the turbulent Gallics, our people according to exactest computations, will in another century, become more numerous than England itself. Should this be the case, since we have (I may say) all the naval stores of the nation in our hands, it will be easy to obtain mastery of the seas, and then the united force of all Europe, will not be able to subdue us.
The only way to keep us from setting up for ourselves is to disunite us. Divide et impera. Keep us in distinct colonies, and then, some great men in each colony, desiring the monarchy of the whole, they will destroy each other's influence and keep the country in equilibrio."
Those are words of John Adams from 1755.
I find it interesting that he stood at one end of the continuum and saw potential greatness. And we stand here 254 years later and wonder if what we're looking at is the downfall of that same great nation. Felled by greed? What lies in store for this nation? The same path as Rome? We should know better than to feel we're immune to being replaced, immune to tumbling from the annals of greatness. I guarantee that Rome never thought they'd be anything but the world superpower they were.
Is there hope for us? I would have to say, as John Adams did....if our nation would repent and turn to God.
Immortal Rome was at first but an insignificant village, inhabited only by a few abandoned ruffians, but by degrees it rose to a stupendous height, and excelled in arts and arms all the nations that preceded it. But the demolition of Carthage (what one should think should have established it in supreme domination) by removing all danger, suffered it to sink into debauchery, and made it at length an easy prey to Barbarians.
England immediately upon this began to increase (the particular and minute cause of which I am not historian enough to trace) in power and magnificence, and is now the greatest nation upon the globe.
Soon after the Reformation a few people came over into the new world for conscience sake. Perhaps this (apparently) trivial incident may transfer the great seat of empire into America. It looks likely to me. For if we can remove the turbulent Gallics, our people according to exactest computations, will in another century, become more numerous than England itself. Should this be the case, since we have (I may say) all the naval stores of the nation in our hands, it will be easy to obtain mastery of the seas, and then the united force of all Europe, will not be able to subdue us.
The only way to keep us from setting up for ourselves is to disunite us. Divide et impera. Keep us in distinct colonies, and then, some great men in each colony, desiring the monarchy of the whole, they will destroy each other's influence and keep the country in equilibrio."
Those are words of John Adams from 1755.
I find it interesting that he stood at one end of the continuum and saw potential greatness. And we stand here 254 years later and wonder if what we're looking at is the downfall of that same great nation. Felled by greed? What lies in store for this nation? The same path as Rome? We should know better than to feel we're immune to being replaced, immune to tumbling from the annals of greatness. I guarantee that Rome never thought they'd be anything but the world superpower they were.
Is there hope for us? I would have to say, as John Adams did....if our nation would repent and turn to God.
If you read this blog, you know I'm knee deep into several historical books, the most incredible of which is John Adams (by David McCullough). I became interested in this book after watching the HBO miniseries with the same name. I was deeply moved by the miniseries for several reasons: 1) history truly came to life for me as never before and 2) John and Abigail Adams intrigued and captivated me. The TV show sort of sparked my interest and I'm feeding the fire by reading everything I can get my hands on.
History is often perceived as dull and irrelevant. And what a false perception. The history of America, alone, is incredibly interesting - wars, intrigues, passions, mistakes, successes, decisions being made which would not only NOT be irrelevant, but would literally build the foundations of America and set the course for our future. The decisions made by our founding fathers were made slowly, with great consideration and foresight, with heated debates and discussions, considering prior civilizations and their failures and successes. Every decision they made was for me. And my children.
John Adams was one of many men who literally dedicated their LIVES to constructing the United States of America. He was a flawed man, but a truly GREAT man. Fortunately, he was an avid recorder of his thoughts, ideas, daily situations and experiences as well as a prolific letter writer - to his beloved wife and to his dearest friends. The record he leaves us is so intensely personal I almost feel guilty reading it!
He struggles with feelings of pride, inadequacy, his unwavering sense of duty to this country and to God, struggles with feelings of guilt for spending so much time away from his family, he has such high expectations of his relationships with other people, for himself and others...he was incredibly well-read and highly intelligent. He was stubborn and unyielding when he believed he was truly right. He was a voice of reason and a steady hand in rough, shaky times.
He made the following observation to his wife, lamenting about the bad behavior of American troops in 1776:
"Unfaithfulness in public stations is deeply criminal. But there is no encouragement to be faithful. Neither profit, nor honor, nor applause is acquired by faithfulness...There is too much corruption, even in this infant age of our Republic. Virtue is not in fashion. Vice is not infamous."
Without even looking at a particular group of people, in general as applied to ALL people, those words are just as true today on January 30, 2009 as they were in October of 1776. How much things change and yet stay exactly the same.
As John Adams and his fellow Congressmen observed the state of humanity and the current struggle to extricate America from Great Britain, Benjamin Rush asked John Adams in a whisper if he thought America would succeed in the struggle.
"Yes," Adams replied. "If we fear God and repent our sins."
History is often perceived as dull and irrelevant. And what a false perception. The history of America, alone, is incredibly interesting - wars, intrigues, passions, mistakes, successes, decisions being made which would not only NOT be irrelevant, but would literally build the foundations of America and set the course for our future. The decisions made by our founding fathers were made slowly, with great consideration and foresight, with heated debates and discussions, considering prior civilizations and their failures and successes. Every decision they made was for me. And my children.
John Adams was one of many men who literally dedicated their LIVES to constructing the United States of America. He was a flawed man, but a truly GREAT man. Fortunately, he was an avid recorder of his thoughts, ideas, daily situations and experiences as well as a prolific letter writer - to his beloved wife and to his dearest friends. The record he leaves us is so intensely personal I almost feel guilty reading it!
He struggles with feelings of pride, inadequacy, his unwavering sense of duty to this country and to God, struggles with feelings of guilt for spending so much time away from his family, he has such high expectations of his relationships with other people, for himself and others...he was incredibly well-read and highly intelligent. He was stubborn and unyielding when he believed he was truly right. He was a voice of reason and a steady hand in rough, shaky times.
He made the following observation to his wife, lamenting about the bad behavior of American troops in 1776:
"Unfaithfulness in public stations is deeply criminal. But there is no encouragement to be faithful. Neither profit, nor honor, nor applause is acquired by faithfulness...There is too much corruption, even in this infant age of our Republic. Virtue is not in fashion. Vice is not infamous."
Without even looking at a particular group of people, in general as applied to ALL people, those words are just as true today on January 30, 2009 as they were in October of 1776. How much things change and yet stay exactly the same.
As John Adams and his fellow Congressmen observed the state of humanity and the current struggle to extricate America from Great Britain, Benjamin Rush asked John Adams in a whisper if he thought America would succeed in the struggle.
"Yes," Adams replied. "If we fear God and repent our sins."
I want to say "Welcome to the World" to our newest godbaby, Julianna Lizabeth West, born January 23, 2009. 7 pounds, 3 ounces, 19 inches long. We can't wait to meet you!
I sit through movies sometimes and become the person I'm watching. The movie ends, the lights come up and I'm mildly shocked to find that I am still Ashley. I feel just like whomever I was observing for the past hour or so.
There are times, however, when you watch something that becomes an emotional experience that you don't leave. You take it with you for weeks, maybe even a lifetime. I say "watch" but it could just as easily be "read." I know I have read books that have changed me deeply inside. For starters, Fountainhead, by Ayn Rand. Followed by Atlas Shrugged.
And music. Music really gets me. I will never forget watching Phantom of the Opera in Kansas City with Kyle, who was my boyfriend at the time. Or Les Miserable when it came to my hometown. And Rent...I love musicals. The incredible combination of spectacular music, spectacular vocalists and an engaging, emotionally gripping plot. I immediately run out, buy the CD, DVD and piano music so I can more fully OWN the music myself.
My latest love is Mamma Mia! Laugh if you want, but I borrowed the movie from my mom and have already watched it 3 times. I am obsessed. I confess to being rather ignorant of Abba's music, with a few exceptions (Dancing Queen!). So I sat down Thursday afternoon while the kids were sleeping and popped it in. From the opening strains of music, I was enraptured and in love. For starters, anything with Meryl Streep and Colin Firth is a sure thing.
I have since made Kyle watch it and now Brooklyn's requesting it. She loves music, too.
And the best thing is how abandoned it makes me feel! I find myself dancing around my house completely uninhibited, choreographing my own day, singing and making up my own "musical" lyrics to the daily goings-on of my life....making cookies, doing laundry, putting PJs on...they all become parts of my own personal life musical. Brooklyn loves it, August giggles, Kyle joins in. Man, I really can't tell you how much fun it is to live with a healthy degree of abandon. And music. Right now, that music is ABBA!
It's January, my favorite time of the year, and it's finally really really cold outside. I know this because there is a layer of ice covering Bailey's water pail. That rarely happens here. And she loves it when it does cause she gets to drink out of the toilet (freshly cleaned toilet). Bailey is my dog, by the way. Not my kid. I could see deep frowns starting to form in your faces.
When the temperature drops outside, it invariably does inside this house as well, but that just gives us excuses to pile on heavy blankets, layer our sweaters, make hot cocoa and popcorn and watch movies or read books together. My absolute favorite scenario.
Last night, as we watched a few episodes from Kyle's MadMen Season 1, my little man, August, was content to nestle in my arms and snuggle with me. He's great for warming me up, too. What melted my heart was his little hand snaking up around my shoulder to entwine his fingers in my hair. Thankfully, my hair is short, because his grip is incredibly STRONG and I would otherwise be bald in patches. So this is his latest thing - playing with my hair. And I love it.
When the temperature drops outside, it invariably does inside this house as well, but that just gives us excuses to pile on heavy blankets, layer our sweaters, make hot cocoa and popcorn and watch movies or read books together. My absolute favorite scenario.
Last night, as we watched a few episodes from Kyle's MadMen Season 1, my little man, August, was content to nestle in my arms and snuggle with me. He's great for warming me up, too. What melted my heart was his little hand snaking up around my shoulder to entwine his fingers in my hair. Thankfully, my hair is short, because his grip is incredibly STRONG and I would otherwise be bald in patches. So this is his latest thing - playing with my hair. And I love it.
I love clothing...I just find myself limited by my taste and that tiny, insignificant detail called money. So I love nothing more than stumbling onto a good sale. I did that TWICE this past weekend. One, at Banana Republic (thank you, Linda!): I walked away with 4 items totaling $60. Without a sale, I could have EASILY paid that for one item. Two, at Beyond Cotton. I had a $60 gift certificate Kyle got for me for my last birthday, and I decided it was time to use it! I figured I'd probably end up spending lots more than that, but it was a good start.
As our car pulled into the parking lot, I was delighted to see a 60-75% Sale sign in the window. Sweet! I really wanted some new jeans, but just could NOT bring myself to pay $200 for Sevens...not in this economy. I wasn't in love with any of them anyway. However, I did manage to walk away with a $110 cropped jacket for $26. And a blue and white striped shirt, regularly $89 for $18. I have money LEFT on my gift certificate. Makes me happy!!
I love looking at design magazines..Domino, Dwell, etc. ...these incredible houses with beautiful furniture...nothing out of place...and I think to myself, "Wonder what that house looked like before it was "magazine-ized". The "real" house. I bet it was something more like this:
Baby placed on the lamp by Brooklyn.
Stack of last year's calendar, flag waiting for a flag holder, various and sundry items.
Console filled with keys, CDs, checkbook, etc.
Rug on the floor where the dog sleeps.
Baby placed on the lamp by Brooklyn.
Stack of last year's calendar, flag waiting for a flag holder, various and sundry items.
Console filled with keys, CDs, checkbook, etc.
For months now, I have been sharing my counter space with 10 Fiesta Ware mugs. Because I really like them and want to display them, but have had no way to do so. Until recently. I found the perfect bar and S-hooks on Ikea. I also found a knife magnet that I desperately needed to house my two new knives (Christmas presents). I use the knives constantly and need them close at hand, but out of reach of Brooklyn.
Total cost of the items: about $18. Total cost of shipping: $17. Sheesh!!!! Ikea really should figure out a better way to ship their items. Just about every other company in the world has! Since the purchase was partly made using a gift card, I went ahead and made the deal. I desperately needed all the pictured gadgets and had looked everywhere for them to no success.
I am VERY pleased with how they look in my kitchen and how neat and tidy they make my kitchen look. And I now have some counterspace!
Every time I sit down to play with B and her Play-Doh, I tend to raise the stakes. At least for myself. She'll say, "make a snake." Done. "Make a face." Done....after about 15 minutes...
I end up tediously crafting these sculptcreations that I'm actually quite proud of! And then B takes great pleasure in smooshing them back to their original ball of dough.
Here was one of my recent creations - although for some reason the camera would NOT capture the thing accurately. The colors were horrendously garish and blinding - not so in real life. And you can't see any of the nuances of features or anything. So, you sort of have to take my word that it really did look impressive.
Well, for the first time in 8 days, Brooklyn is not running a fever. She still has a hacking cough which occasionally makes her throw up because she can't stop coughing. And she looks thin and weak, which she is, poor thing. She has a ton of mucous in her body - she coughed up a ball of it earlier and it was like the slime they used to dump on people's heads on "You Can't Do That on Television" on Nickelodeon. Minus the crazy colors.
She is worn out, as evidenced by her request to go to bed at 1:30 despite having slept until 11. She's recovering, I hope.
August is rashy, snotty, coughy and has been running a low fever. Other than that, he acts fine, just irritated by his runny nose. AND last night, I noticed a tooth beginning to emerge from his lower gums. So I don't know the exact source of his fever, et al. I'm continuing to pray that he avoids the RSV. Keep Brooklyn in your prayers that she bounces back quickly. Thanks for all of those prayers. I am so humbled by your vigilance on our behalf.
She is worn out, as evidenced by her request to go to bed at 1:30 despite having slept until 11. She's recovering, I hope.
August is rashy, snotty, coughy and has been running a low fever. Other than that, he acts fine, just irritated by his runny nose. AND last night, I noticed a tooth beginning to emerge from his lower gums. So I don't know the exact source of his fever, et al. I'm continuing to pray that he avoids the RSV. Keep Brooklyn in your prayers that she bounces back quickly. Thanks for all of those prayers. I am so humbled by your vigilance on our behalf.
As I was doing some reading last night in John Adams, I had a minor epiphany. I am currently reading 3 books: John Adams by David McCullough, Marie Antoinette: The Last Queen of France by Evelyn Lever, and Princesses (can't remember the author) - about the daughters of King George III. Here was my epiphany: through no conscious action of my own, I chose three books, ALL OF WHICH TAKE PLACE around 1776. I'm literally reading about what was happening in three separate parts of the world at the exact same time. France, England and the United States (as it was becoming).
As I'm reading about John Adams and the other founding fathers of our country, some of them even travel over and are living in France during the period that Marie Antoinette and her husband, Louis XVI are ruling and during what becomes the French Revolution (the whole reason Marie and her hubby are beheaded). Benjamin Franklin was a delegate to the French Court as was Thomas Jefferson (who actually was a big advocate of the French Revolution) and for a time, John and Abigail Adams lived in France. Meanwhile, King George III was king of England and was responsible for the Stamp Act which got the colonies all riled up and sort of kicked off the American Revolution. He was crazy, and happened to have 6 daughters, about whom I am reading in Princesses. Interestingly enough, John Adams lived in England for a while as a diplomat to KG III on behalf of the United States. John and King George were actually only a few years apart in age.
So, I am delving into history in a way I have never done before. From three different perspectives all at the same time. I have to tell you, it's intriguing!!! And accidental. Although as the turtle in Kung Fu Panda would tell you: There are no accidents.
There is such a thing as too much fun and I have just about reached that point. Last night, while Kyle was at a gala honoring his boss and I was watching Bride Wars with my mom, sister, sisters-in-law and August, my little girl was hanging out with my dad, getting sicker.
We had faithfully been giving her tylenol and motrin every 3 hours and suddenly, her temp just wouldn't behave. As I drove her home, her little face bright red, her eyes at half mast, head lolling to the side, I immediately called Kyle and said, Get Home Now. When I checked her at home, her temp was 103.4 and that was after she'd just had her Motrin dose which usually works pretty quickly.
She was really not feeling good. When Kyle got home, I'd managed to get all of us ready for bed and Brooklyn was moaning under the covers, asking for her Daddy. He immediately swept her up in his arms, his eyes leaping to mine when he felt how hot she was. I cringed and nodded. She wasn't due for another dose of medicine for another few hours. The Braun ear thermometer was practically welded to our hands now and was in and out of her ear so frequently we might have strapped it to her head. And the numbers would not go down. As my heartrate jumped with each new number, I finally leapt off the bed and ran a lukewarm bath. Shivering and crying, she stood there while we tried to bring her temp down. Still no luck. I was on the phone with the exchange trying to get our doc to call us in seconds. The second hand slowly ticked past as I anxiously waited, watching for my phone dial to light up indicating an incoming call. Almost 30 minutes later, it did. Praise God, our doc was on call and he knew Brooklyn's situation. He said keep doing what we were doing, sounded like her bronchitis might have become the flu. And if she wasn't better tomorrow, give him another call.
About 20 minutes later, nearing midnight, I hung up the phone with my parents, asking them to pray for us. We re-checked B's temp and it was 104.9. Adrenaline surged through my body and I looked at Kyle. To the ER. NOW. I called my parents, they concurred. I called the medical exchange again and told the doc we were headed to the ER. He said he'd see us there.
Holding my shivering baby in my arms and trying to console my other littler baby, August, who was unsure why he was being forced to move from his warm spot on my bed and strapped into his car seat, we sped to the ER. My lips didn't stop moving - praying for God to heal my baby, just saying the name Jesus over and over. There is power in that name. I know it. I believed God was in control, but passivity is not in my nature and the only thing I could do, actively and physically, was to voice my fears and pray like my baby's life depended on it!
My parents met us at the ER to hold August in the waiting room and to bring me some food. Turns out all this activity had made me forget to eat and I was shivering from adrenaline rush and low blood sugar. A few bites of a grilled chicken sandwich and some sips of Coke later, I was new woman. Thank you, Mom and Dad!!! Apparently, having grown kids doesn't mean you never spend late nights at the ER, huh?
At 2:45 am, we were walking out the ER doors, having a confirmed diagnosis of RSV. Chest x-rays showed no change in Brooklyn's lungs, still swollen bronchioles. A nose swab ruled out the flu and confirmed RSV. Hopefully, this would be our worst day of it.
We had faithfully been giving her tylenol and motrin every 3 hours and suddenly, her temp just wouldn't behave. As I drove her home, her little face bright red, her eyes at half mast, head lolling to the side, I immediately called Kyle and said, Get Home Now. When I checked her at home, her temp was 103.4 and that was after she'd just had her Motrin dose which usually works pretty quickly.
She was really not feeling good. When Kyle got home, I'd managed to get all of us ready for bed and Brooklyn was moaning under the covers, asking for her Daddy. He immediately swept her up in his arms, his eyes leaping to mine when he felt how hot she was. I cringed and nodded. She wasn't due for another dose of medicine for another few hours. The Braun ear thermometer was practically welded to our hands now and was in and out of her ear so frequently we might have strapped it to her head. And the numbers would not go down. As my heartrate jumped with each new number, I finally leapt off the bed and ran a lukewarm bath. Shivering and crying, she stood there while we tried to bring her temp down. Still no luck. I was on the phone with the exchange trying to get our doc to call us in seconds. The second hand slowly ticked past as I anxiously waited, watching for my phone dial to light up indicating an incoming call. Almost 30 minutes later, it did. Praise God, our doc was on call and he knew Brooklyn's situation. He said keep doing what we were doing, sounded like her bronchitis might have become the flu. And if she wasn't better tomorrow, give him another call.
About 20 minutes later, nearing midnight, I hung up the phone with my parents, asking them to pray for us. We re-checked B's temp and it was 104.9. Adrenaline surged through my body and I looked at Kyle. To the ER. NOW. I called my parents, they concurred. I called the medical exchange again and told the doc we were headed to the ER. He said he'd see us there.
Holding my shivering baby in my arms and trying to console my other littler baby, August, who was unsure why he was being forced to move from his warm spot on my bed and strapped into his car seat, we sped to the ER. My lips didn't stop moving - praying for God to heal my baby, just saying the name Jesus over and over. There is power in that name. I know it. I believed God was in control, but passivity is not in my nature and the only thing I could do, actively and physically, was to voice my fears and pray like my baby's life depended on it!
My parents met us at the ER to hold August in the waiting room and to bring me some food. Turns out all this activity had made me forget to eat and I was shivering from adrenaline rush and low blood sugar. A few bites of a grilled chicken sandwich and some sips of Coke later, I was new woman. Thank you, Mom and Dad!!! Apparently, having grown kids doesn't mean you never spend late nights at the ER, huh?
At 2:45 am, we were walking out the ER doors, having a confirmed diagnosis of RSV. Chest x-rays showed no change in Brooklyn's lungs, still swollen bronchioles. A nose swab ruled out the flu and confirmed RSV. Hopefully, this would be our worst day of it.
Lately, I have been on a history kick. In December, I watched John Adams, the HBO miniseries, and was so enthralled by the vibrant refresher course on history that I have been devouring historical books like crazy ever since. I realize now, probably too late, how interesting history can and should be. But I'm making up for lost time, thanks to incredible researchers and authors like David McCullough.
Right now, I'm also soaking up some Austrian/French history in the form of Marie Antoinette. Fascinating stuff. And since I've had several sleepless nights lately, they're handy to have on the bedside table.
Right now, I'm also soaking up some Austrian/French history in the form of Marie Antoinette. Fascinating stuff. And since I've had several sleepless nights lately, they're handy to have on the bedside table.
For those of you who wonder where I might have been the last 2 weeks, just set your default mode to "Sick Kids" cause that's what mine is apparently set to. In the last 4 weeks, I have made weekly visits to the doctor - 3 times for August (rash, bronchitis, rash again (atopic dermatitis) and the most recently for Brooklyn (bronchitis). I'm there so often I know the nurses like old friends. The doc walks in and doesn't even need to consult the charts.
With August, I've just come to accept that it might be awhile before his skin is truly baby smooth. Right now, it's nubby, bumpy and slightly red. But he is still beautiful beneath his skin issues! He's apparently allergic to something or everything, we can't tell yet. After a week on liquid steroids, he smoothed right up, but once those faded from his system, the little rash critters just sort of snuck back up. Like they were hiding out of sight and once the coast was clear, crept back in. Grr. I am now in possession of so many bottles of lotions and creams and body washes that I could open my own drugstore. A hypoallergenic drugstore.
And if the boy would just stop drooling for a few seconds and let his chin dry, he might not look like his mouth was about to peel off his face from chappedness. Ah, boys. But he is still the apple of my eye and the new love of my life. The way his face lights up when he sees me is priceless. It's a mutual adoration society.
On to Brooklyn. Ok, so she started coughing a few days ago and running a low-grade temp. I began to realize, mid-Friday, that it might be a good idea to get her in to see Dr. J because if things turned nasty, I did not want to have to make a late-night trip to the ER. God was merciful and the clinic squeezed us in immediately. Good thing, too! While in the waiting room, B's temperature jumped up! When they took it initially, it was 101 and she was drooping. Falling asleep on me every couple of minutes, hot and coughing. After ruling out RSV and pneumonia (with a chest x-ray), the doc said he was pretty sure it was bronchitis. By the time I got home with her newly filled antibiotic script and gave her a dose of tylenol, her temp was 103.5!!! I was juggling her on one hip and a hungry August on the other. I was surprisingly well balanced. I quickly called Kyle and said, get home and grab some Sprite on your way. I need help.
It took 6 hours and a cool back for Brooklyn's temp to drop down to normal. And we're still giving her tylenol and motrin alternating every 3 hours. I'm praying that this illness stuff gets bored with us and moves on! In the meantime, I'm relying on the power of prayer and learning to sleep really deeply for the spurts of time that I'm able to. And thanking God for a kind and understanding husband.
And if it weren't enough to be there 4 weeks in a row, we'll be back to the doc on Monday for August's 6 month check up.