Ten Years of Changes

Ten years ago, there were no iPhones and no electric cars. A cheap flat screen TV cost around $3000.  iPods had only been out for a year, and most people didn't have one yet. The US was still recovering from 9/11, and flags and patriotism still flew high.  Not only did we not have an African-American president, but most people ten years ago would have never guessed it could happen within a decade. And our family only knew of childhood cancer as something bad that happened to other kids.   We just couldn't imagine how much our world view would change in just a few short words.  "Well, I am 99.9% sure he has leukemia." 

October 31, 2012 will mark the ten year anniversary of Josh's leukemia diagnosis.  It's not a statistical big deal (five years off treatment a few years ago was the big one) but it seems like a big deal to me.  Maybe because I like nice round numbers?  Maybe because ten years is so long that it gets to have its own name? I don't know why exactly.

I can remember that day so clearly still, like it's actually on a video I am watching.  The smells and sounds and shock.  I'm not the same person I was on October 30, 2002, and it seems odd to be able to pinpoint the hour, the minute, the second that it happened.  That it's been ten years? Unbelievable. 

Our lives have changed in the normal way: We live at a different address.  There are two more children at our house.  There have been job changes, deaths, births, new friends, and new experiences.  But the change from people who didn't "know" cancer to people who know more than we ever wanted to?   It's the anniversary of that change this week. 

After successful treatment, hard work at school, and lots of counseling, Josh seems to be solidly on the other side of cancer. He is changed too, both in ways that break my heart a little and ways that I think will serve him well in life.  He is just a little less trusting, just a little more anxious than he was before that day.  He has some residual emotional and physical effects of treatment still.  But he's here, and he's strong, and he is healthy.  He has broad shoulders, and he'll be taller than me very soon, and he runs across that soccer field on legs that he couldn't even bear to stand on ten years ago this week.  He reads above grade level and takes high school math in seventh grade and basically laughs in the face of the vials and vials of poison that were injected directly into his spinal fluid.  He became a survivor, and he knows as well as we do that he was one of the lucky ones.  

Ten years ago this Wednesday, we entered into a dark time for our family, but it was a dark time with a million rays of sunshine to cut through the darkness.  We learned about the beauty of a "hospital family" and the even deeper beauty of an actual family and strong network of friends to carry us through.  Josh, taking the rest of us along for the ride, got to have amazing experiences (thanks to Make a Wish and Miles from Molly and Relay for Life and Child Life and so many individuals that I could never name them all.)  I could write a book filled with the little things that people did for him, for us, that changed me forever, for the better.

For many years, we  had Josh sleep with us on Halloween night, a warm and tangible reminder that he was with us.  It's been a few years since we did that, but please don't tell him that on Wednesday night, I'll sneak into his room and shed some tears of gratitude that I get to watch him breathe and feel so very thankful that he's too big to fit in my bed. 

Hallelujah!

It isn't often that all the laundry is done at our house.  (And it irritates me beyond belief that it is actually never done since at any given time, someone is wearing something that needs to be washed.)  But every once in a while, I get all the baskets empty and all the clean laundry put away.  (And by every once in a while, I mean once a year, maybe two years.)  But Sunday, I did it.  John had the boys out all day, and Abby went to church and then played all day with the neighborhood girls.  I cleaned and scrubbed and washed and folded and put away until the house was clean and all the laundry was done. 

It is so rare that this occurs, that even the most self-centered of us (the seventh grader) noticed.  I was feeling pretty proud of my domestic skills until  it was time to get ready for the morning; James, choosing his clothes for Monday, came down the stairs:

James: Mom, I need socks! (He NEVER knows where a pair of socks is. Ever.) 
Me: I washed and matched them all...you have tons of pairs.
James: But I can't find them. I looked in the laundry room and my closet and your room....
Me: Honey, they're in your sock drawer.
James: I have a sock drawer!? (Brat.)
Me: Funny. 
James: (smirking as he heads upstairs)

Soon, I heard a loud voice from upstairs and went to investigate.  I found James singing Hallelujah, loudly, while he sat and just gazed at his full sock drawer. Double brat.  I guess I should probably match socks a little more often??

Worth Posting

I just uploaded a bunch of pictures from my phone and found this one.  It made me laugh (because I'm mean like that), and I thought it was worth posting, even though I can't remember the specific incident that prompted the note to be written. 

There are three things I love about this note. 1) That he found the exact balance between true apology and guilt inducing overstatment that would make both laugh and forgive him. He has skills, this one.  2) That he wrote it on some wrinkly scrap of paper he found. 3) That he signed it "Your son" as though there might be another James leaving me a note on my pillow.

He's a funny boy. 

Snapshots

So that I can avoid being ridiculously whiny about how busy we are, I'll just say that tonight was an unusual night.  None of the kids had anything: no dance, no appointments, no soccer practice, no games.  It was the polar opposite of last night, which was worthy of some serious whining. 

I did go to the gym and John's team did have practice, but the kids were able to just relax and hang out.  They were so happy to play with friends and play soccer on their own schedule and watch a little TV, and it was a nice change of pace (to a lovely, slow pace) for a gorgeous fall afternoon.  They even loved dinner and gobbled up so much that the adults left the table a little hungry!

Everyone was peaceful, with the exception of a 15 minute bout of arguing while doing chores, and just before bed, I realized they had all voluntarily gone upstairs to their rooms.  I went up to check on everyone, and in each room, I found an accurate snapshot of each kid right this minute in time.

I could see Josh from the top of the stairs.  Door open, mildly inappropriate music playing from his "surround sound" (also known as two speakers he found at a garage sale with Aunt Lori), long, broad-shouldered body sprawled out on his stomach, math book out and pencil scratching too quickly to be really checking his work.  He looked up at me, and said, as only a seventh grader can, "What?" I answered that I was just checking on them, and he graced me with a very white, very straight toothed smile.  I decided to give him a break and not mention that he clearly was NOT WEARING THE RETAINER THAT IS HOLDING THE 5,000 DOLLAR TEETH IN PLACE.  Ahem.

Next, I could see James's door was wide open, but he was nowhere in sight.  I had to go all the way in his room before  could see him at the foot of his bed, happily whispering to himself about his many Lego creations.  Every once in a while, he would let out one of those exclusively boy "Pyu, pyu" noises that a grown up could never recreate (or spell.)  It took him forever to notice me, in spite of the lack of any other noise in the room, thanks to his laser focus on all things Lego.  When he did look up, he smiled and said "Hi, Mom."  I asked him to sit on my lap, and he happily obliged.  Once snuggled up to me, he talked for a solid four minutes about school. Then, he simply stopped.  Stopped talking, stopped snuggling.  Got down off my lap and went back to his beloved Legos. 

Dismissed, I finally faced the one closed door.  The closed door that was slightly vibrating from the volume of the Justin Bieber song playing on the other side.  I opened it to find my daughter happily dancing and spinning, arms waving above her head.  A picture of innnocence except..... a perfectly normal outfit had been "matured" by tying up one side of the shirt to reveal some belly, rolling up the top of the skirt to shorten it, and adding a side pony with fake red hair clipped in for good measure.  Honestly.  As soon as she realized I was there, she began a millisecond transformation back to a seven year old.  Shirt untied, skirt pulled down.  With a guilty smile, she said "What? I was dancing!"  I told her the outfit looked better after the transformation and agreed to her request to play Memory without any further discussion of the "dancing" scene.  I'll save the battles for when she wants to wear that ensemble outside the house. 

Overly mature outfits aside, I loved to see all three of them happy and quiet and at peace.  (And in case you were wondering, Josh did finish his homework shortly after I saw him and came downstairs to hang out with just me.  We do that most nights, chatting and watching TV, and it is one of my favorite parts of the day.)
 

Reflections on Back to School

We just ended the third week of school, and for the first time since September 4th, we don't have to do anything today.  I'm hoping to go out to dinner (even though that will be the third time this week) and to do a little cleaning (maybe) and to just relax tonight.  I even have time to record a few thoughts about the last 18 days (the first thought being: IT'S ONLY BEEN 18 DAYS?? SERIOUSLY?? THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE.) 

• I haven't blogged about this, and probably never fully will, but there was a week this summer when I thought about going back to the classroom full time.  It was a tough decision, but a month later, I'm feeling good about the choice to keep working as an instructional coach half of the day.  I had to accept a big risk (coaching=temporary position for half of my job; teaching full time=full time permanent position, just weird union/contract stuff, really) but I think it was the right choice.  I will be coaching completely different people this year, and once I get over my aversion to change, I think it will be  great year.
• I have a really different class this year than I have had in the past. It's still large-ish (30 students) and the needs are still varied, but the needs this year are not so much academic needs as they are social and emotional needs.  With the exception of one epic failure of a day, it has been easy and enjoyable.  I like how quirky they are, and I think it's going to be a really fun group. 
• Josh is actually liking seventh grade.  He likes his classes (especially STEM, science and PE), ended up with his good buddy in every class, and has lunch with a group of his friends.  As previously mentioned, math homework is killing us, but overall, it's been an easy transition for him. 
• I won't be saying much about this either because Josh is definitely firmly at the age where I need to be cautious about what I share for him, but last spring, he made a competitive, older soccer team.  It was a surprise, and it meant that he moved to a team of older (and bigger--my word, were they ever grown up men) boys that he didn't know.  About two weeks ago, we made a family decision that it wasn't the right thing for him, and he very happily moved back to his old team.  He practically leaps into the car to get to games and practices and is starting to love soccer again.  And that's really all that needs to be said, right?
• Abby loves first grade. LOVES.  Her teacher told me she enjoys Abby's energy and helpfulness and that she participates and always sings along.  Sounds about right.  She is still sassy, and our clothing battle is never ending, but she is such a fun, happy girl.  The older she gets, the more often we are stopped by strangers who have to tell her how pretty she is.  And the older she gets, the more she loves every minute of it.  We can't stop this problem, but I do tell her every day that she is smart, strong, athletic, funny, and kind. 
• James is, as always, a funny and sweet boy.  He continues to be a contradiction at school, and I received an email last week explaining that he has been placed in both advanced math and Title One reading support.  He loves Title One, and he was relieved to get to go and he loves math too, so he was excited for a challenge.  However, for the first time ever, he is feeling less than confident about school in general.  It makes me really sad, and he is pretty sad about it too.  I love his teacher this year SO MUCH, and he continues to just work his little tail off at school, so I think he'll be fine.  It's hard, though, to see the self doubt creep in for him. 
• John is assistant coaching a local high school girls' soccer team this fall, so I honestly have no idea how he is doing.  Between his early bedtime so that he can get up early to drive to Portland and daily practices or games with the team, we don't see a lot of him at the moment, and on some days, it is literally just a few waking minutes.  He is enjoying it a lot, though, and it's only for a few months! 
• I was so worried about school starting again after a completely calm, relaxing summer full of sunshine and sleeping in, and I won't lie. It's been a little rough.  Three soccer schedules, dance class, homework, Back to School nights, and working full time are a little overwhelming.  I think we're getting into the swing of things now, and I am hoping for calmer weeks ahead.  I'm not proud of a few of the "family moments" we've had in the past 18 days, and I am resolving to keep calm and organized in the coming weeks to avoid any more. 

I guess I had a lot of things to reflect about!

Seventh Grade

(Disclaimer. MASSIVE disclaimer: Math homework is miserable.  Josh is unpleasant and difficult and argumentative, and I am not sure both of us are going to make it out of high school Algebra alive this year.  Also? Sometimes he teases his sister for no reason other than to irritate her and make her whine "Joooooosssshhh" in the most irritating voice. So, in case you read this post and think I'm a big fat liar? Just know that I am more of a big fat omitter of information.)

Somehow, I find myself the parent of a seventh grader.  I was JUST IN SEVENTH GRADE, you guys. I am still friends with people I was friends with in seventh grade.  I remember my entire schedule from seventh grade.  I can still see "The Sumerian News" newspaper project in my mind's eye and still wish that I had done a neater job on it.  To have a seventh grader of my own seems pretty ridiculous!  But somehow, it happened.

I have to be honest.  I don't love seventh graders.  My illustrious career of teaching seventh grade lasted exactly one year before I high tailed it back to sixth grade.  Generally, they're not super pleasant, and I wasn't looking forward to parenting one.  At all. 

Here's the thing, though.  Josh is so fun as a seventh grader.  He talks to me and shares his thoughts about everything.  He has talked more to me in the past four months than the rest of his life combined, I think.  He rides in the front seat of the van with me, chatting and laughing.  He's almost my heighth (just a couple more inches to go!), got his braces off last month, has broad shoulders and defined muscles...he is just this big grown up guy!  And yet, he still wants to talk to me and hang out with me.  I'm just shocked by his maturity most of the time.  Today, he needed a book for his Language Arts class, and he asked me for a recommendation, took the recommendation, and then....wait for it....thanked me for it and said he loved the book.  Kind of amazing. 

Today after school, he had forgotten his key AGAIN, so he just stayed with me instead of walking home. (Notice I didn't include remembering his key in the list of his many fine qualities.) Diana was there too, and they got a snack to share and sat laughing and talking and eating.  These two tall, grown-up, friends-for-life, and all I could think was that I just like them so much.  I just really didn't see this one coming at all. 

James

After two long soccer games in the sun, he asked for only two things: Something cold to drink and to hurry home so he could work on his new Legos. 

Me: Anything for you, Soccer Star.
James: Soccer Star?
Me: Well, you scored three goals!
James: Yeah, but I'm not the star.  I could never score goals without the rest of my team, Mom.

Oh, right.  Absolutely.  I sometimes lose track of my non-stop mantra about "playing soccer for fun and exercise and to get better, it doesn't matter if you win or lose, it's not scoring the goals that matter, it's playing the hardest you can for your team" when they win.  He is such a serious boy, and the lines of black and white rarely fade into gray for him.  I told him that he and the rest of the team really played hard and that I was so,so proud of them.  And then I bought him a root beer. 

When we got home, he raced inside to his Lego set.  Abby headed to the neighbors, and John and Josh weren't home, so he was alone, happily building.  I was cleaning in the other room, but when I walked by, I saw him intently working, right in the middle of a golden sunbeam. I just stood and watched my sweet, sweet boy.  I snuck in to snap a picture (a picture that really didn't capture real life), and he looked up after a minute.

James: Mom, what are you doing?
Me: Oh, just taking a picture.
James: Why?
Me: You just looked so cute sitting here.
James: Huh. (shrug) Well, OK.

And he returned to his Legos.  I stood watching him for another minute, and he broke the silence.

James: Mom?
Me: What, honey?
James: I just really think it's amazing that someone at the Lego company can come up with all these ideas! I mean all these pieces fit together to make something.
Me: Yeah, I think they must be really creative.
James: I bet they make a lot of money!
Me: Probably.
James: You know what I really like?
Me: What's that?
James: Legos are like multi-step problems.  And when you solve the problem? You're just really proud of yourself.
Me: James, I really like you.
James: I know, Mom.  I like you too.

And he went back to his silent work.  I just adore my serious, earnest, goal-scoring, hard-playing, problem-solving boy. 

Golden hair, dirty knees, intense focus. Delicious.  

Seven

In a few hours, my baby girl will be seven.  On her seventh birthday, my baby girl who really, REALLY isn't a baby anymore will get up, get dressed, tie her own shoes, brush her own teeth, and do her own hair.  It is pretty much guaranteed that I will not love her hair or her outfit.  Before she leaves for school, she'll give me a giant bear hug and tell me she loves me, and when I lean down to kiss her head, I'll just barely have to bend at the waist.  She'll walk to the bus without a second glance home, her crooked pony tail swinging as confidence oozes from her every step, and head to school to sing and read and write and be happy. 

When I think about my Abby, I marvel at her happiness, her independence, her intelligence, and her confidence.  She is everything a seven year old should be all wrapped up in one fantastically tall,sparkly package.  I am so proud to mother her, to love her, to know her.  Happy, happy birthday to my special girl! 

Not Our Best Night

(Note: The feeling that I needed to "catch up" with blogging was stopping me from actually blogging, but I really do like to write here. So, although my draft box is absolutely full up with teh beginnings of "catch up" posts, I'll be starting from today.)

Yesterday, James's soccer team participated in this season's "seeding jamboree." Basically, it meant that they would play three games, spaced closely together, to help the league make a fair schedule for the season.  In between game 2 and 3, the boys had a longer break. (Not long enough to go get dinner, even though it was most decidedly dinner time, but a good 45 minutes to spare.)  The boys all went to an empty field to play, unsupervised.  We were close by, but not sitting and watching them play.  Big mistake. 

I was sitting, updating Facebook (what? It's really important to keep my high school friends up to date with my nine-year-old's soccer games!) when one of James' friends came up saying, "A soccer goal fell on James's head!"  I stood up to go see what was going on, and as soon as I spotted him, I broke out into a full run (pretty much an unprecedented event for me).  His face and hands and shirt were covered in blood, and he was just screaming.  Josh was leading him over, looking pretty pale himself, and confirming that the soccer goal had indeed tipped over and fallen on him. 

I am actually good in a crisis. I can stay pretty calm and collected, but inside, I was pretty much freaking out.  We could see that blood was coming from his nose, but weren't sure if it was coming from anywhere else, and there was just so much of it!  It was really scary, and we knew that he had gotten a nasty knock on the head.  A doctor materialized from thin air (he was actually watching his daughter's game, but it really seemed like he came from nowhere) and examined him, we got the bleeding stopped, and we finally got him calmed down.  The doctor gave us instructions and told us we could monitor him instead of heading to the ER. 

James, of course, wanted to stay and watch his team, so people brought us water and snacks and warm blankets, and I insisted he sit on my lap to watch the game.  He was pretty lethargic and shaky at first, but by the time we left, he had perked up quite a bit.  He had a Sonic milkshake for dinner, slept in my room (because I may not be able to stop something bad from happening, but I am absolutely not letting them leave my side when they are sick or hurt), and woke up this morning very sore, and with a headache, but basically alright.

There was a second story line going on while we dealt with James.  Josh, who had been there when thegoal came down and had been the one to get him to an adult for help, was very shaken.  He seemed fine, but kept wanting to relive it moment by moment.  If I hadn't been so wrapped up in James, I would have seen where this was going! Josh tends towards anxiety (understatement) and has a very physical reaction to it.  We've worked on this for years since anxiety makes him sick, which makes him more anxious, which makes him more sick.  Pretty soon, he had a headache. We tried to remind him that he was upset and that everything was OK, but the headache got worse and worse and worse until it was a migraine.  We managed to just barely get home before he was puking, and he headed to bed in a dark room with a cold cloth.  I don't know a lot about migraines, but we know that adrenaline is a trigger for Josh's headaches.  (He probably won't be a sky diver!) It's been a while since he has had one, so we were terribly unprepared. 

All in all, it wasn't our best night.  Even Abby didn't speak all the way home! I think that Josh and I both have a little post traumatic stress disorder because he needed to talk about it again all morning and kept checking on James, and I'm considering leaving James's mattress in my room forever. 

A funny side note: James asked to take a warm bath this morning (which tells you how sore he is since he avoids any type of cleansing like the plague).  Josh didn't realize that he was even in the bath tub and went up to get ready for HIS three game series in the seeding jamboree.  He walked by the bathroom to see James floating FACE DOWN in the bathtub*.  He ran right in and pulled him out of the water, much to the irritation of James, who was enjoying being surrounded by the warm water on his sore head.  Josh was able to laugh about it once he realized what happened, but believe me, the migraine medication is packed right next his soccer cleats just in case.

*I do realize that it's SUPER weird that James likes to lie in the bath tub face down.  He has always liked it, and I could never take my eyes off him as a baby because he was always trying to dive in.  He's a weird kid.  What can I say?

April

Oops.  Apparently, it's almost June. I forgot all about April!  It was an exciting, busy month too.  I finally remembered (learned for the first time, maybe?) that it's super easy to transfer pictures from my phone to my computer.  So.... April in a few pictures and a few (hundred) words. 

Easter happened.  And boy did the sun ever shine down on Oregon that weekend.  We had our super fun annual playgroup egg hunt right in our own neighborhood. It was still a little chilly at the egg hunt because the only time that there wasn't a soccer game happening for the majority of the 23 children involved was at 8:00am!  As you can see by all the soccer jerseys, we pretty much hunted and then headed straight for the fields. 

We colored eggs the night before Easter.  I was a bad, bad global citizen and hard boiled 48 eggs, even though I knew that only about 8 would actually get eaten.  I was a worse global citizen when I didn't even care and told my husband to shut up about it.

(I don't know why there isn't a picture of Josh?  Maybe he was being difficult? He did color eggs!)

I hosted my first family gathering on Easter Sunday.  It was BEAUTIFUL.  I loved having everyone here, and my house hasn't been so clean since we moved in.  Seriously.  It was so fun that I didn't even take one picture.

The boys both entered science fair projects and both were chosen to go to the district science expo.  (That happened in May, so I'll blog about it.....in July.) 

I got the chance to fly to Arizona to go to a Mobile Learning technology conference where I got to dork out in a big way.  (When a video plays and I turn to the person next to me and wonder aloud which program they used to create it?  I kind of wonder what has happened to me.)  John came with me (yay for paid-for private rooms!) and we decided to stay in AZ and enjoy the lovely, warm spring weather while we visited Sedona and the Grand Canyon. 

Our view out the window in our hotel in Flagstaff when we arrived at 7 on Friday night. Lovely, right?

The next morning.

About the moment when we decided that the trip to the Grand Canyon wasn't happening.  We headed to Sedona instead.  We hear there are red hills there, but we can't be sure.

Sunday morning about an hour before we left.  Sigh. The next Sunday? It was 70 degrees in Flagstaff. 

Yeah.  That didn't work out great.  It was still fun, but we had a hard time seeing the silver lining as we trudged through a FOOT of snow to the hot tub. 

Later in the month, Josh scared me and his peditrician by needing to go to the doctor for recurrent headaches.  I'm not sure if you know this, but there are two places that leukemia is most likely to recur--testicles and brain.  I know this, and so does Dr. H.  So, off to the MRI machine he went.  It was clear, but he has been diagnosed with migraines, and we are learning how to manage them. 

We had some great weather in April.  One day, I thought I'd just "get some Vitamin D" for a while.  Oops. 

We took advantage of a nice afternoon (and a bottle of sunscreen) and scooted out of town and hit the beach.  I had my phone in a plastic bag, but I took some pictures anyway.

It was 70 degrees with no wind.  Almost makes up for Arizona.  Almost.

Soccer ended for the little kids (although James almost immediately joined another team.)

Do you think that they have done sports pictures a few times?  Height order, with one kid in front with the ball.  This picture makes me laugh. 

James learned and performed another cultural dance, and I moved hell and high water to get there.  Three separate people covered my class that day, but it was worth it. SO worth it.  I didn't even have the camera this time, but you'll just have to take my word for it.  Funny and sweet and so very awesome. 

April is always one of the craziest months of the year, so I always feel like I need to take a break when it's over.  And at some point during the deep breathing and de-stressing, I look at the calendar and realize that it's nearly June, and there are only 14 days of school left.  14 days, people!  See you in a few days for the May wrap up!

Contrary

A few nights ago....

Me: Abby! Your fingernails are so dirty! And the rest of you...you are filthy!
Abby: (with sass) I know.  I like to be dirty.
Me: Well, you need a bath.  Like five minutes ago!
Abby: I hate baths.  I want a shower.
Me: No way, sister.  You are so dirty--you need a good soak. 
Abby: NOOOOOOO. PLEEAASSEEE! NOOOOO BATH!!!! A SHOWER! I WANT A SHOWER, PLEASE!!! MOMMMMYYYYYY! (If you have ever heard even her default volume, you know all caps was the only way to go here.)
Me: That's enough.  You are not two years old! Get in the bath tub and stop screaming!

Last night at bedtime...

Abby: Mommy.  I need a bath. I am sooooooo dirty. I better take a bath right away!
Me: I don't think so....It's bedtime.  You're fine.
Abby: But Moooommmmyyyyy. I'll get my sheets all diiiirrtttyyy.  Please Mommy. Pleeeeeaaaasssse let me have a bath!
Me: No. That's enough. It's too late, and you are not dirty. Now get in bed and stop whining!

Tonight....

Me: OK, everyone.  We have thirty minutes to get everyone showered and ready for bed. 
Abby: I don't like showers.  I want a bath.
Me: Well, we need to get everyone showered and still leave hot water for Dad and the dishwasher, so it will have to be showers tonight.
Abby: But I haaaaattteeee showers.  I only like baths. Showers aren't fun. I'll have a bath.
Me: No. You will not have a bath.  You will have a shower, like I told you to do.
Abby: MOMMMYYYY! Please!! PLEASE! I want a BAAATTHHH!
Me: No. That's enough. Just a few days ago, you insisted that you hated baths.
Abby: crickets chirping while her bottom lip got further and further out.
Me: Go get in the shower and stop pouting!!

After the SHOWER-NOT-A-BATH-WAH-WAH-WHY-ARE-YOU-ALWAYS-
RUINING-MY-LIFE-MOM:

Me: Sigh. Abby, why do you have to argue about everything?
Abby: I don't!
Me: See, you are even arguing about arguing.
Abby: No, I'm not.  I'm just talking.
Me: Abby.  Seriously. It's arguing.
Abby: I think maybe you are arguing with me.

End scene. 

St. Baldrick's

Nearly everyone who looks at this blog (all three of you at this point) already sees my Facebook posts.  But just in case you don't have Facebook.....

Josh will be shaving his head again this year to raise money for children's cancer.  When he shaved his head 3 years ago, he raised over 1000 dollars!  The event is here in town, and he is very excited to participate.  If you would like to donate, you can easily donate online. 

Here's the link:

https://www.stbaldricks.org/donate/participant/567305

If you'd like to donate, but don't want to do it online, contact me and I'll let you know the other options. 

Thanks!

Eye Opener

Josh went to Take Your Child to Work Day with my mom today.  She works, if you don't already know, as a Liason for homeless students in a school district.  She actually "retired" a while ago, but has been working part time still, and she offered to let Josh see what her job is all about.  I picked him up tonight, and as we drove the hour home (and the younger two zoned out with a DVD in back of the van), he talked.  And talked.  And talked some more. 

Now, normally, Josh is more like his dad with processing things.  It mostly happens internally, and sometimes, he never shares it with anyone.  This time though, he needed to talk it out.  I nodded and asked questions, but that was all.  I wish that I had been taping the conversation because he got A LOT out of his day.  I know that he didn't even experience a fraction of my mom's job, but what he saw opened his eyes a little.  I could never do the conversation justice....  His realization that as nice as the family homeless shelter was, having one numbered cabinet and a shared kitchen is less than ideal.  His shock at a story my mom told him about taking a graduating student to a nice restaurant (the one where she took Josh for lunch today) and the student didn't know not to clear the dishes at the end of the meal.  "Mom.  She was eighteen, and she had never eaten a restaurant where they clear your dishes!"  His discomfort that he has eaten at that type of restaurant often.  His processing of the feeling of both guilt and gratitude in the face of realizing that they were delivering stacks of bus passes to kids who have no transportation, let alone a nice home of their own. 

But in all the things he said during the hour, this is the thing that will stick with me.  Probably because it didn't occur to me that he didn't know before...

Josh: We went to see Lynette, and she told me about her job.
Me: Yeah?  What was it like?
Josh: Well, sometimes kids kind of mess up.  And they can't graduate from high school, and that makes things pretty hard.  Well, Lynette helps them do their work on the computer.  They take online classes, and she helps them, and then they can graduate. 
Me: That's a pretty cool job. 
Josh: It was.  She really helps them a lot! And, Mom?  I think I get the Trayvon Martin case now.
Me: Huh.  Why is that?
Josh: Well, you know how everyone thought it was racial?  I didn't know what they meant, but today when we were at Lynette's school, we were walking down the hall, and there were these three boys, and they were Hispanic.  They had sagging pants and gang stuff on, and I was getting a little nervous.  But then, they turned and saw us, and they asked if we needed help, and they were so nice!
Me: And why did that make you think of Trayvon Martin?
Josh: Well, when I saw them, I thought they were mean and dangerous because of the way they looked.  And I was totally wrong.  They were really nice, probably nicer any kids we'd see at another high school.  So I think that probaby is what happened with Trayvon Martin.  I think he looked scary to that man, and he was totally wrong too. 

I would say "out of the mouth of babes", but he is clearly NOT my baby anymore.  He's not an adult yet , but he is definitely on his way.

As we got out of the car, he said, "I had such a great day!" I don't even think he knows how great it was. Yes, he got to go out to breakfast, lunch, and dinner and was treated as a VIP everywhere he went, but more importantly, he learned some things that I could never simply tell him.  Sometimes, I am just amazed by my sweet boy. 

Honored

This morning, our school held our annual Academic All-Stars breakfast.  Students who were on the honor roll during this school year are recognized at this breakfast, and we had 405 student who made honor roll this year at least once.  The gym was packed!

Josh did NOT want to go.  He's a lot like his momma in this respect.  I can remember years of trying to decide if it would be worse to not be recognized or to have to walk up in front of everyone.  My competitive side usually won out, but it was a close race.  So, living up to his genetic makeup, he was very unhappy at the thought of walking up in front of 600+ people.  And I'm not going to lie.  The fact that he had neglected to finish his math homework was weighing heavily on him, which resulted in a tense breakfast.  (With tears and all.  Shhhhh. Don't tell that I mentioned that part!) 

I finally drug him out of the house, and we made it to the gym just as his teacher called his name.  I gave him a shove and tried to take a couple pictures.  Picture fail. 

The only good thing about this picture is that if you look very closely to the left of center, you can see that Josh and Diana were walking up together.  You might say that this is because they have the same advisory teacher and their last names are one letter apart, but I say shut up.  It was totally fate. (They are both in orange too...so sweet.)  

He got his certificates, and then I decided to be merciful to my hormonal boy and told him to go-do-his-math-and-stop-pouting-for-crying-out-loud.  I stayed to watch my other students be honored, and then hurried back to our classroom to take this.

There are three certificates in his stack, one for each quarter because he made honor roll each quarter.  In fact, two of them say 4.0.  But it is the one that says 3.8 that I am most proud of.  The B+ that stopped him from straight 4.0s represents his character and the kind of person he is turning out to be.  To remain professional, I will just say that the B+ caused a lot of anxiety in our house.  We still don't know why he didn't get an A, and that elective class has been the most problematic of the year.  He hates it, and the grading remains a mystery.  I have offered probably a hundred times to let him move from that class.  But no matter what, he just wanted to stick it out.  Don't get me wrong.  He has been miserable.  And sometimes miserable to live with regarding this subject.  But.  He wanted to stick it out, and he is mere weeks from finishing the year.  He didn't give up no matter how much he wanted to, and I'm proud of him.  It is the same sheer will that made him a "difficult" toddler.  And it is the same sheer will that will take him far in life.  It may not always be easy to deal with, but I'm glad that he inherited that from his parents too. 

March

It seems like March came in like a lion and then went out like a bigger lion.  Lots of rain this month meant that we didn't go out much! Soccer got cancelled A LOT, and I spent a lot of time on my couch watching the kids get wet outside and then screeching at them to please take off your wet things before you come inside. 

My mom pointed out that I hadn't blogged in over a month, and I was sure she was wrong.  Nope.  A whole 33 days have passed, and I literally had to go look at the calendar to see just what we've been up to for that many days......

James' team made it to the school finals of  Battle of the Books. I was pretty impressed with those four boys!  Josh was always on a team with girls, and the girls helped organize everyone and make sure the books had all been read and re-read.  I wasn't sure how things would go with James' team.....they tend to be more interested in playing in the mud and creating elaborate Lego scenes than organizing a team to read 14 books!  With a little help from Sarri, they pulled it off (and more.)  They ended up losing in the semifinals, but we were very proud of their efforts.  In the car, racing to his first soccer game which had overlapped with the BoB finals, I asked him if he thought he might do it again next year.  "Um, why wouldn't I do it again next year? We were AWESOME."  Why indeed. 

Abby was chosen as Student of the Month for March, and John helpfully offered to skip the big trip to Izzy's (the prize for Student of the Month is a free buffet) and watch baby Parker, so that Judy and I could take all of our honorees for dinner.  I'm pretty sure he got the better end of the deal, but the kids were so happy.  I even had Josh's free buffet from last year saved, so at least I didn't have to pay all that much for our "special dinner."  James sidenote: I have been trying to really limit the soda that the kids drink, so I told them "water only" at Izzy's.  James was less than pleased and went on a water strike.  Unfortunately for him, the food there is very salty, so by halfway through the meal, he was THIRSTY.  Still, he refused to drink any water.  Judy and I watched, more than amused, as he tried to quench his thirst on cantaloupe.  He must have eaten an entire cantaloupe! If it upset his stomach, he managed to hide it from me..... Abby can take out her earrings, but she is finding it very uncomfortable to do it, so she has been opting to just wear her old ones.  Maybe next month she can start accessorizing! And, amazingly, her totally dead, mostly gray front tooth is STILL hanging on.  She goes to the dentist next week, so I HOPE that they "accidentally" pull it out.   Her biggest news, though is that her daddy finally let her cut her hair. It just goes to her shoulders, and it is really cute.  To my delight and her decidedly not delight, her curls are still there. 

Josh finished up his indoor soccer season, and he starts practice for outdoor this week.  Soccer all the time around here.  If it would stop flooding every five seconds, it would be a lot more fun! His team will definitely be the Bad News Bears this spring.  They have not quite enough kids and are again playing in a hard league, so we'll be happy with a few goals.  He does get to keep playing, though, and that seems to be what makes him the most happy.  He still has his "girlfriend", and that still means that they occasionally sit together at lunch and sometimes text each other.  Sometimes.  He is looking forward to the end of the school year, but I'll be a little sad to not have my daily connection with him when he heads off to seventh grade! In just a few weeks, he'll be closer to thirteen than twelve, and although the adolescent mood swings are a lot to take, I am enjoying this age just as much as I thought I would.

Despite the rain, we've had a lot of fun this month.  A few dinners with neighborhood friends, a really fun make-your-own-pizza party, a PE birthday party, a cousins' beach trip for me while a MASSIVE sleepover happened back home, a girls' day with Molly and Judy, a St. Patrick's Day party, a trip to Big Al's, a bowling/movie/sleepeover extravaganza for the boys while Abby enjoyed being an only child with a special candlelit dinner and movies with just Mom and Dad, and a spring break where doing nothing meant a lot of time to relax and rejuvenate before the last big push toward summer.  It's no wonder I haven't had time to blog (or take any pictures, apparently!)

February

Thank goodness for leap year or my-not-really-a-resolution-but-still-a-plan-nonetheless to blog at least an update a month might not have made it past February. 

As usual, it's hard to believe we are already heading into the third month of 2012.  (The end of the world is inching ever closer, right?  Just kidding.  Mostly.)  This month has been busy, busy, busy, but I can't quite remember why.  I don't have a lot of get up and go in February, and I feel a little like a grumpy bear who wanted to hibernate but couldn't. That's why this post has no pictures. I was just too grumpy and lazy to do it. Sue me. Luckily, March will be here in a matter of hours and soon, the trees will start to blossom and every once in a while we'll even have a warm, fresh day.  I cannot wait!

What have we been up to?  Driving in the car a lot?  Watching a lot of Good Luck Charlie? Sitting through sporting events? Dodging freezing cold rain drops? Pretty much. 

John continues to work lots of hours at work.  We are "lucky" that he gets to have every few Saturdays off now, but with a minimum of two hours to commute and only one day off a week (plus that pesky need for sleep), we don't see that much of him still. 

This month has been very busy at work for me too.  Since I worked over 10 hour days today and yesterday, I feel like I have barely even seen my family this week.  I did get to have a great weekend away with my friends this month, but I have been trying to set aside as much weekend time as possible to be at home.  During cold, rainy February, I found that staying home in my warm house was just exactly what I wanted to do.

Josh's month has been defined by sports.  There have been several times this month where in a 36 hour period he had a two hour basketball practice, a basketball game, a two hour soccer practice and a soccer game.  He is loving it though, and he is especially enjoying basketball.  Last week, he stole the ball in the last four seconds and took it down the court to shoot and win the game by one point in the last second, and the other boys chest-bumped him and congratulated him like they had just won the championship ring.  Since it is intramural middle school basketball, the audience got a good chuckle out of their moment of glory.  He got what was probably his first concussion (courtesy of the wall at indoor soccer) last weekend, and he pretty much always has sore muscles.  He also got asked to be a peer mediator at school, so he is attending the training this week.  Although the training isn't his favorite, he is really excited to start doing mediation, and I'm really proud of him!

James is, as always, just James.  He took his state reading test this month and came very close to passing on his first try.  The test isn't my favorite measure of achievement, but it is important, and I'm so happy that he was able to do pretty well on it.  Also on the reading front (a much more important reading front!), his Battle of the Books team, the Razor Backs, made it to the school finals and will compete on Saturday for the top title.  He is on the team with his three best buddies, and it's so fun to see them do so well in the competition.  We started letting them earn marbles for working hard, doing extra chores, etc, and James is leading his brother and sister by probably 20 marbles.  Once he decides to go for something, he goes for it!  I could have an entire blog of funny James stories (if I weren't so lazy and grumpy) but here is one from tonight:

James: Mom! I finally figured out Einstein's theory of relativity!
Me: Uuuuummm.  What??
James: You know, Einstein's theory of relativity? We've been reading about him, and I've been trying to figure it out, and I think I finally did! (Doesn't every third grader do this?)
Me: Hmmm.  Ok, so tell me what you think.
James: Ok, so it's like this.  If I am sitting on the couch playing and talking with my friends for an hour, it seems like only a minute has gone by.  But if I am sitting on the couch by myself, in trouble, for one minute, it feels like an hour. That's relativity. 
Me: (crickets chirping) Well, that sounds good.  (Honestly, I have no idea if he is anywhere near correct.  I tried to read about it on Wikipedia, and couldn't make heads or tails of it.  Still, he kills me.) 

And finally, Miss Abby.  This month, she has taken her love of mixing patterns to an all new level.  She seems determined to annoy me to death via clothing choices.  I told her to change out of her stained old purple leggings and too short t-shirt the other day, and she told me, "Clothes don't matter, Mom.  It's what inside that counts."  I knew that I was getting played, but who can argue with that logic? If you saw her in that charming outfit, you know why.  She also lost one of her front teeth last week, and when it got accidentally thrown away, she sobbed for a good twenty minutes until her eyes were swollen.  Even in the morning, when the note Daddy wrote to the Tooth Fairy worked, she still looked at that dollar with disdain, like it was tainted by the entire horrible experience.  What's inside that girl is pure sass.  She is having a hard time with me working so much, and has been pretty fragile.  But when I asked her what we could do to make her feel happier, she suggested that a pedicure might help.  I think that we are in deep trouble with this one. 

Maybe, once March is here, I can bring myself to get some pictures onto the computer and add them to this post. Probably not thought.  Happy Leap Day!

Abby's News

When Abby was three, she asked to get her ears pierced.  I had promised myself that I wouldn't make my daughter wait to get her ears pierced like I was cruelly forced to do (hi, Mom! Love ya!) but three seemed a little young for my liking.  Besides, three year olds also ask for things like candy for dinner and trips to the moon, so...

When Abby was four, she asked to get her ears pierced.  Begged.  EVERYONE has their ears pierced, Mommy! EVERYONE! (Side note: Most of her friends decidedly do not have their ears pierced.)  Four still seemed young.  Can a four year old even know that they want their ears pierced?  I was protecting her from herself, really.  Not at all going back on my long ago made promise. 

When Abby was five, she would wistfully gaze at Clai.re's when she walked by, silently hoping that I would hear her silent pleas.  I got the message loud and clear, but I still wasn't sure.  Sometimes, she would ask to stop and watch some other lucky person get their new earrings, but she wisely didn't beg anymore.  But one time, right before she turned six, she said quietly as we watched, "Someday, I'll get earrings too, and it will be SO great."  We talked about giving her ear piercing for her birthday, but since she hadn't been asking, other gifts were chosen instead.  But.  We told her that sometime when she was six, we would them pierced.  Christmas came and went, and she never once mentioned it. We were patting ourselves on the back for not giving in to the whims of a three, four, five year old--clearly, she wasn't even interested! 

On Saturday night, we walked into the mall, and she looked right at "the chair" and looked up at me with a smile.  She nodded her head.  To be honest, I panicked.  She is my baby, after all, and even though she is fiercely independent and six-going-on-sixteen, I wasn't ready.  John told her we would walk around first, and I did my best to sway her.  It would really, really hurt, I told her.  She would have to clean them EVERY day.  She wouldn't even be able to change the earring for just about ever.  She was very calm and met me with logic every step of the way.  It wouldn't hurt forever.  She could clean them whenever she brushed her teeth.  And of course, she would leave them in just as long as they said to leave them. 

Sitting in the chair, the only signs of nerves were two twisting hands and a sassy attitude.  She picked the most expensive earrings and the pair I would never have chosen (of course) and sat calmly and still while the papers were signed, the marks were made and the piercers were readied.  I watched her face while the earrings went in--no tears, no sound, not even a flinch.  She told me that she thought she might cry, but she didn't. 

Still today, she is convinced that everyone is looking at her and admiring her earrings when she walks by.  She loves them, and I've caught her more than once admiring them in the mirror.  She has been cleaning them without a reminder, as promised, and she informed me that it didn't hurt as much as I said it would.  She asked me to mark on the calendar when she can change them and has big plans for the first pair she will buy when she can wear other earrings.  They are, not surprisingly, expensive and earrings that I would NEVER pick. 

Green stones? I asked her if green was her favorite color.  "No. Why?"  This girl makes me laugh. 

Just Moving Along

It's been a pretty peaceful January as far as Januarys go.  We had some snow, some sunny days, and some torrential downpours, resulting in some pretty spectacular water flows in our new neighborhood.  You know.  Just a typical Oregon winter.  We are back in the rhythm of school and work and sports, and it's almost like our blissful Winter vacation never happened.  John and I had a really great overnight date night in Portland, but mostly, we've been just hanging around the house.  A few birthday parties, a sleepover, some movie nights, and some sporting events in Portland have kept things from getting too monotonous.  The kids have been getting along, and enjoy our neighborhood full of kids more and more each day.  We are thinking about instituting "family time," not because we don't enjoy having kids over, but because we'd like to actually see our children every once in a while. 

I made some New Year's resolutions, and I'm doing my best to keep them.  Sometimes, I'm successful.  Other times, not so much.  And that is just the way it goes.  My main resolution this year is to lay off expectations.  And probably, that one will be even harder to keep than drink more water and get myself moving more.  When I can do it, I find that I can see the happiness in my life in all the little things, so it really is my goal to stop expecting things to go a certain way and just enjoy the ride.  It's a little like telling the wind to stop blowing, but I think a little at a time, I can do it. 

The kids are, as always, doing well.  Middle school continues to be a pretty smooth ride for Josh.  He has a girlfriend, and while it is nothing more than a girl that he enjoys hanging out with (we are no longer allowed to say playing--middle schooler "hang out"), this time feels a little more grown up as I watch it from the outside.  It makes me happy and sad all at the same time.  He likes most of his classes, and got a 4.0 this quarter.  He's currently taking piano lessons, playing school basketball and playing on an indoor soccer team, so he doesn't have a ton of free time.  James is making a lot of progress in reading, and he genuinely likes third grade.  He played basketball this year, and although I'm not sure it's really "his sport," he enjoyed the season.  He is such a calm, Zen child, and I just really, really like him.  Abby is about to lose her two front teeth, and they are wiggly enough to give her a tiny, cute little lisp.  She went to basketball camp this month and is apparently a decent player.  A stranger the other day came up to tell me that she used to coach basketball and had watched her at camp.  She suggested some additional camp time for Miss Abby and "saw promise."  I guess being very tall is good for something!  She is cruising along in kindergarten, meeting her benchmarks and really getting a handle on reading.  Her true love is writing, which is a new thing around our house.  The boys don't love writing AT ALL, so it's fun to get notes all the time.  I find notes on my night stand, and there is currently a sign on her door that reads "I love justin bieber and James kep out."  She insists that it doesn't mean that James has to stay out of her room but is at a loss for what it does mean.

I am not setting any expectations about when I might blog again.  No expectations, remember?  I'll just be happy when a quiet night gives me some time to keep this spot updated.  (Truth: I'm trying for at least an update at the end of each month.  So, a small expectation. What's that saying? Rome wasn't built in day?  I think that's about right.)