camp mom becomes an infirmary

I had a rare sick day yesterday. I had some strange stomach bug thing, with unmentionable symptoms. But it wasn't your garden variety stomach bug, so by noon, I was pretty convinced that it was pancreatitis, diverticulitis or a dissecting descending aortic aneurysm.

Fortunately, I am much better today, so whatever it was, it's nearly gone. I'm still milking it (just a little) and relaxing on the couch and reading and ordering my husband kids to wait on me.

The last time I can remember laying around all day was when I had an amnio with Little One. Which was oh... well over 4 years ago. I think it was time for a break.

Then this morning, Big Guy got stung by a yellow jacket on his heel as he was getting in the car to go to baseball camp. He ended up missing the whole day because he couldn't put his shoe back on and every time he stood up, he was screaming (S! C! R! E! A! M! I! N! G!) in agony.

It's so hard to tell when your kid is really hurt and when he is being a drama queen. (I don't know where he gets these tendencies.) I know yellow jacket stings are painful, but sobbing and screaming EIGHT hours later (when the swelling has gone down)??

We caught him sneaking glances in the mirror to fix his hair between sobs (he is VERY VAIN about his hair), so I was pretty sure it was more drama queen than not. I did make a half-hearted attempt to call the pediatrician 15 minutes before closing time to see if there were some sort of encephalitis/insanity side effects from a yellow jacket sting, but you will never guess what?? At 4:15 on the afternoon of a holiday weekend... they put me on hold for 16 minutes. And when I called back, the office was closed. Hookers.

By that time, the horse's dose of benedryl we had given him kicked in and he was merely whimpering softly while fixing his hair in the mirror.

Tomorrow is my favorite holiday, Independence Day. I don't know why it's my favorite, except that it's always warm, we can go to the pool, everyone has a free pass to eat as much ice cream as possible. And there is no gift giving. And don't forget fireworks. I love a good fireworks show. Here's hoping for good mojo.

(Photo from Country Living)

we're super busy but i have no idea what we do all day

Camp Mom is tired. We're getting up earlier than our usual lazy summer mornings this week. Big Guy is going to baseball camp and mGuy is doing his second round of swimming lessons. Round 1 was remarkable. He went from being a bobber to a guppy. Even though his mother, who taught swimming lessons and lifesaving and basically lived in a pool for much of her life, has valiantly tried to teach him to swim, he balked, in favor of a cute lifeguard less than half my age.

Smart boy, that one.

We have officially gone through our first bottle of sunscreen. That is an undocumented problem with these kids growing up. Besides the fact that they are getting more complicated and kind of sweaty smelling and sassy. They are freaking HUGE. It takes far too much sunscreen to cover them. I'm going to have to impose a sunscreen surcharge on their allowance for anyone over 54 inches. (Little One is lucky. She may never have to pay said surcharge. Silver lining?)

Lots of things have been rolling around in my brain that I've wanted to blog about, but when it comes to the end of the day and I have a moment to put fingertips to keyboard, my brain is spent. (Perhaps it's all those margaritas?)

I've been working on my armoire. It's tantalizingly close to being finished, but I need some help from Rocket Man to get it done and his time is in short supply. He has a few days off for July 4th, so hopefully there will be finished pictures appearing here soon. (And? July 4th? How did that happen? The summer is 3/11ths over.)

I've been dreaming of nursing school again. For many reasons. I have been trolling Facebook, looking up old friends and classmates. Developing an unhealthy envy for those women who have gone back to work after raising their kids to school age. Most days I don't want to rush these moments of having little ones underfoot, but I do long to do something else as well. Motherhood is the highest, most important calling I will ever have, but I don't feel like it's my only calling. There is more of life out there needing me. I am not quite able to go and find it yet, but I am anxiously awaiting the day when I can. (Cue the crushing mommy guilt here.)

And? Wouldn't it be lovely if dreams and ambition didn't have price tags attached?

Little One, my nocturnal child, has been waking up screaming some strange shit lately. One night, a few days after I wrote about her inability to learn the alphabet, she woke up screaming about the Letter Q. The other letters were out to get it. And Mr. and Mrs. Mallard, from Make Way for Ducklings, were involved. I always knew there was more to their drifter lifestyle than they were letting on.

I think my efforts to teach her the ABCs are stressing her out.

Another night, she woke up screaming about slices of lemon. I was never able to figure that one out. She was so upset, she could barely talk.

(I have no idea.)

On a good note, she can now count to four! FOUR! I told her she couldn't have a birthday party unless she could count up to her age. So now she counts, "One, two, free... ummm... ummmm... hmmmm... what's that number again? That one after free?" I make the "f" sound, and within 5 minutes or so, she bursts out with it, "FOUR! FOUR! Is that right? Am I four?" (God. How are we going to teach this child algebra?)

Sad things have been weighing on my mind as well. Last week, a little 5-year old girl drowned in 2 feet of water at a pool near us. Horrifying.

Also last week, a local mom of 6 girls was killed when a tree branch fell on her minivan (also killing one of her daughters) during a sudden storm. She was driving the kids home from the pool, probably thinking about what the heck to make for dinner. I had just driven through the intersection where it happened the afternoon before. When I looked her up on Facebook, I noticed that we had several friends in common, even though I didn't know her.

Tragedies like that always hit home when it's something that could have easily happened to me. We like to think that if we do everything right, pay attention to safety at all times, keep all our ducks in a row (the SECOND mention of ducks in a blog post!?) we can prevent bad things from happening. But in reality, we can't. Life sometimes feels like a crapshoot.

In spite of getting up early and dealing with a screaming child in the middle of the night, and all the sad stuff in the newspaper, we ARE having the BEST. SUMMER. EVER. There is a lot I want to do with my kids this summer. I have an all-too-brief period here where I have no surly teenagers and yet, no one is in diapers. I need to take full advantage.

We are heading to upstate New York for a family gathering in a few weeks. I just noticed the other day, that it's not far from Niagara Falls. Rocket Man and I have been there, but the kids haven't. Nor have they ever left the country. I just sent off my passport to get an expedited renewal. If it comes back in time, we can cross over into Canada. (According to the State Department, the kids only need to show birth certificates to get back into the U.S. I hope that's right. Otherwise, they will be attending some sort of residential summer camp in Ontario until we can get them back. Heh. Oh, the temptation.)

I should note that I also checked out the topographical map of our driving route. And HOLY SHIT, it's all mountains. I'm not the hugest fan of mountains. As I don't like heights and I live in fear that my car will plunge off a mountainside. I've already refilled my Xanax prescription. (Yes, my heart is pounding just writing this. I'm sure there's some big... freaking... bridge... we'll have to cross over too.) (THUMP.THUMP.THUMP.THUMP.... does that sound like vtach to you???)

Soon after we get back from New York, assuming that no one goes over Niagara Falls, we don't plunge off a mountain, get Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever from a tick, or get trapped in Canada with 4 undocumented children, we head here...



Now THAT is my kind of vacation. 25 more days.

(First photo from Country Living.)

karma, she's a betch

I've had more than my fair share of laughs at the expense of people who drive cars that are held together with duct tape.




Sue vs. The Hemlock Tree

Sue 0
Hemlock 1

i never should have said it outloud

A few days ago, I was hanging by the baby pool, talking to someone about Little One's orthotics and I was saying that I think she may be outgrowing her need for them. In the summer, she doesn't use them much because she wears sandals or Crocs. She used to fall down A LOT if she didn't have the orthotics, but I told my friend, "I can't remember the last time she fell down. I used to tell her not to run because she ALWAYS fell down (yes, I am That Mom telling her kid not to run), but she's been running up and down the sidewalk with no problems lately."

So you know what happened right after I dared to speak those words aloud, right?

In the last 3 days, Little One has fallen down probably 20 times. Her knees are skinned, she has road rash on her hip bones and elbows, bruises on her shins and forehead. Just like the old days.

So evidently, we have not outgrown our need for the Foot Whisperer.

Something is also going on with her and her learning issues. I freak out about this every 6 months or so, so it must be time.

Call it mommy intuition, but something is not right. I don't know exactly what it is. She is a smart girl. She can repeat a story you read her almost word for word. She is very socially perceptive. She uses big words and tells complicated stories. And yet, despite the fact that I have sung the song 80,000 times, she cannot get past C in the alphabet. Nor can she count past 3.

She's almost 4. Isn't that strange?

We've been working on this for MONTHS. She doesn't spell her name. She can't write any letters. She can't actually write anything. She is just starting to draw circles. Stick figures are a long way off. I know my other kids were way beyond this when they were her age.

We have an appointment in August with her wonderful geneticist. Hopefully he will have some ideas. None of which will be inexpensive, I'm sure.

Speaking of the cost of health care, the other day, I was trying to take care of some health insurance issues. Something I spend a LOT of time on. I noticed that our dental claims were not getting paid because the dentist's office was not using the correct ID number. I assumed they would fix this. We've been going to the same dentist FOREVER and we've had this insurance for awhile.

But after getting another notice about an unpaid claim, I called the dentist's office to tell them they have to file claims with either Rocket Man's social security number, or our insurance subscriber number, but whichever one they were using, was incorrect.

So the woman I spoke with said, "Oh. Ok. I'll re-submit these."

And I said, "Well, do you want to tell me which number you're using so I can make sure it's correct?"

So she said, "We're using your husband's social. It's still 123-45-6778, right?"

Huh? 123456778? Are you kidding me?

I asked her to repeat it because SURELY I heard wrong. But nope, she read me back the same number. Which is, I'm pretty sure, NO ONE'S social security number.

camp mom tries to suppress her annoyance

How did it get to be Friday already? The summer is 1/11th over. I'm not sure right now if that makes me happy or sad. Ask me at bedtime.

We had a fun week. If *I* was a kid, I would think it was fun anyway. We went out for pizza and ice cream, we saw Night at the Museum (10 thumbs up on that), we picked strawberries, we made chocolate fondue and homemade strawberry ice cream and chocolate chip cookies. We went bowling*. They've ridden bikes and scooters and had playdates and watched movies and hung out in their pajamas.

Awesome, right? Unless you are one of my kids, who shall remain nameless (but it rhymes with gemGuy). Nothing is right. I didn't let him run in the fountain after the movie. I didn't let him get candy at the movie. (This is the kid who had $700 of dental work done last week. HELL NO, you are not getting candy.) I wouldn't buy him a drink at the bowling alley. He didn't like picking strawberries. (Because every. single. time. he picked up his little container, he spilled it. How it that possible? Even Little One didn't have that problem.)

He has said no less than 300 times this week that he's BORED. There's NOTHING TO DO. I'm NOT HAVING A FUN SUMMER.

It makes my head explode. I am working my ass off trying to make memories and have fun and do things you can't do when school is in session, and I think I've done a pretty good job of it, but someone is never happy. Makes me want to give up trying and just park them in front of SpongeBob and call it a day, you know?

But I keep reminding myself, 300 times a day, if necessary, that he WILL remember the fun. Not the candy he didn't get. Or the video games I wouldn't give him a quarter for. Or the playdates I couldn't call because it was oh, 8 o'clock at night.

He WILL remember the strawberry picking and the fact that Little One, who could barely push the bowling ball hard enough to get it down the lane BEAT us at bowling. (I know!) The dinners outside on the picnic table and the miles he has clocked on his scooter in the gorgeous summer breeze. (And if he DOESN'T remember? I have a gazillion pictures, and I will FORCE him to remember.)

I just hope that *I* remember that part too. And not the whining and the crying and the declarations of boredom that make me want to scream and find a full-time paying job.

I'm adopting Susan's mantra, Best Summer Ever. Even if I have to say it through gritted teeth. And even if it kills us.

How is your summer going?

* If you haven't already done this, check out Kids Bowl Free. If there is a participating alley near you, you can sign your kids up and get free coupons for them to bowl all summer long. Like so many coupons, you couldn't STAND to bowl that much. Or I couldn't anyway, because of all the damn vending machines and video games at the bowling alley.

summer of love (and berries)

foursome

Today is the last day of school. Just ignore my occasional sobs and screaming. Actually, after the gauntlet that is the last month of school, I am LOOKING FORWARD to summer vacation. Check back next week and see if I've changed my mind.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure too.

Before we go galloping off into summer, I thought I'd update on everyone.

As I mentioned before, Big Guy will officially be in junior high after today (gah!) and is now eligible to attend the dances held by our church youth group. (Ignore those sobs and screaming again.) For some reason, I think of all my kids as age 4. (Except Little One, because she hasn't even BEEN 4 yet.) That must be my favorite age. So HOW is my 4-year old Big Guy going to junior high? (And really? Is there anything worse than junior high? Not in my life there hasn't been. Dread.)

So Big Guy was telling me that his friends A and B are going to the dance "together". And I was all, "What does THAT mean? Is he picking her up on his bike? Is he paying for her? Does her MOM know about this?"

No on all fronts. They will just meet up when they get to the dance. Which is not any different than not going to the dance "together" - am I right here?

He SWEARS he is not "going to the dance" with anyone, but really? How would I know? My brain and heart is not ready for this stage. And all you junior high girls, you are ON NOTICE! Don't mess with my baby or I will HURT you!

mGal seems to have hit her stride. Right in the last week of school. Awesome, right? Her teacher was giving out quiet awards this week and she was the first winner. My mGal. A QUIET AWARD. I had to pick up my jaw with my hand. Too bad she finally figured out how to sit still and shut her trap the LAST WEEK OF SCHOOL.

I forgot how chatty mGuy is. He's been home this week and can answer a simple yes or no question with an essay of epic proportions. And you MUST look at him and nod your head and make appropriate listening noises THE WHOLE TIME HE IS TALKING, otherwise he will START OVER.

Little One almost got us kicked out of a restaurant last night. She is good for about 15 minutes less than I need her to be. However long that is... our last 15 minutes anywhere are always UGLY.

I've come up with a new trick to keep her from running away from me though. I hold on to a clump of her hair like a leash. If she runs, it hurts. Is that cruel? Tell me if it is and I'll stop (ok, I'll think about it, anyway). I'm not PULLING her hair, just holding it. It's her choice to make it hurt or not. (Go ahead, flame away, people.)

Speaking of restaurants, there is a fun new event in the DC area starting this week - Kids Restaurant Week. It's sponsored by Gourmet and Cookie magazines. (I love magazines!) It kicks off with a fun event at Eastern Market on Saturday (uh, tomorrow!) from 9-3 which includes chef demos and other fun stuff for kids. Both my girls want to be chefs when they grow up (not because of my gourmet cooking abilities OR because they spend time HELPING me in the kitchen - I think it's because they like to watch Ace of Cakes. Whatever.)

Then all week long there are specials at area restaurants with prix fixe dinners - $29 for adults and your kids pay their age! Some of the restaurants on the list are ones I have been DYING to check out! (I didn't really plan on checking them out with my KIDS, but for that price, who can resist? Although Little One may need to stay home with a babysitter. See above. Especially if you all won't let me pull hold her hair anymore.)

Funds raised from Restaurant Week go to help the rebuilding of the Eastern Market building and supporting Miriam's Kitchen, which provides meals and support to DC's homeless population.

Those kids of yours? They look hungry. Get out there and feed them!