This Girl....

Went to Young Women for her first time today!

Happy 12th birthday, D.J.!!!

Jogging my Memory

This is the tongue of my six year old. Can you see that big ol' nasty looking sore? This has been our most recent adventure in illnesses.

Three of our boys have complained of sores in their mouths. Having experienced a similar illness with our oldest child when she was about three, I didn't worry much and was just happily letting things run their course.

A good friend who reads my blog, contacted me after reading a couple posts ago about the sores and call to tell me that she didn't think it was what I thought it was and gave me her idea on it. I appreciated her call from California and made an appointment with the doctor.

This appointment ended up being of little help (but this is the topic of an entire post in and of itself). The doctor said it was just a virus that needed to run its course. With the other two boys, it did. With A, it just keeps getting worse day after day.

At this point, it seems fairly clear to me that he's going to miss his first day of school. This will break his heart. He can't wait to wear the super heroes shirt he got. His new Nikes will have to wait until a few days after. All of those sharp new pencils will sit in his backpack for a few extra days and his glue sticks will keep their caps on.

In order to assist with the healing of this sore, I was reminded of my childhood. Whenever we had a canker sore or a cold sore, my dad would get out a Q-tip and the small, green bottle of Campho-Phenique. I found some at Rite Aid yesterday and brought it home. I opened it and took a whiff. Wow! It was my childhood all over again. I could taste it just by smelling it. If you've ever smelled it, it is very distinctive. There is really no smell like it. I think that without the memories it brought, the smell would be awful, but because of the memories it evoked, it was a long lost smell--almost a pleasant smell.

The box says "for external use only." I thought twice about applying it to his tongue, but then realized that my dad, who is now nearly 82 years old has used it on multiple occasions and has led a very healthy life. It always reached its desired effect. So, A is now experiencing what I did as a child. I'm hoping it will help him. Not only that, but maybe someday smells such as this will bring good feelings into his heart after he's grown and out living on his own.

Bittersweet September

Summer vacation is just right. Any longer, and I think "madhouse" wouldn't even begin to sum up our home. The kids are tired of each other, and the drone of my voice has become part of the scenery in my children's brains. I honestly detest being ignored. It, to me, is the utmost in disrespect, so needless to say, I'm ready for them to return to school. By spring break in March, I'll be ready for them to return home again and will begin making summer plans, and in effect, create the paper chain to countdown to summer vacation again. This happens every year.

Once upon a time, my husband was a teacher. He was home during summer; well, kind of. He would always get a non-teaching related job, but when he was home, he was home--no grading, no student problems hanging heavy on his mind. It was really nice. The pay was not so good, but we only had two children, and we didnt' know any different; we were just happy to have income. I guess you could say that it is comparable to a school administrators pay with six children (we now have seven). HaHa! It all works; still happy to have income.

My husband isn't the kind of guy who stresses. He just handles it all. You know opposites attract, so in a way, I guess you could say that I compensate for his lack. August and September are notoriously a bit more difficult on our family. He's gone A LOT.

Every year, school here always starts the day after Labor Day. This year is the latest it could possibly be--September 8th. It's kind of like being in church when the meeting goes a little long. Every kid in the chapel has an internal clock that knows the meeting was supposed to be over three minutes ago, so they get antsy--the crying, whining and basic misbehavior starts up. That's how our summer has become. It's starting to rot on the vine; the fun is over. The school clothes and supplies are purchased weeks ago. The rule at our house is that school clothes are just that--they are meant to be worn on or after the first day of school and not before. They are excited for so many reasons.


On the other hand, I'm sad to see them go back. They have all been so helpful. I have had the extra pairs of hands that I've needed whenever I needed them. I'm sure I'll feel like I'm swinging on the trapeze without a net once they're gone during the day. I know I'm going to have to slow down and not plan on getting too much done around here until I can figure out just how far I can jump. The greatest blessing in all of this is the fact that I've had the acclimating months of this new baby with an enormous network of help. She is an extremely easy baby. To be honest, I will miss them when they're gone all day, but I feel like I'm ready, and so are they.

Poor T

(This is T on Thursday morning before anything had started)

T has been crying for two days now. He started out with a fever on Thursday. It has now developed into sores in his mouth. Funny, I had heard of a few cases of hand, foot, and mouth disease from a few of my facebook friends, but they live far away. As of this evening, I'm fairly sure that's what we're dealing with. I haven't seen any sores on his hands or feet, but they are definitely in his mouth, so I guess this could be a virus of some kind, but we'll see what develops in the next couple days. Q had something similar back when she was the same age as T, but she got it during the Thanksgiving holiday. Ugh! She couldn't eat a thing and was miserable and crying all day.

That's what we're dealing with now with T. A few months ago, I bought some Go-gurts and put them in the freezer with the thought of taking them on our trips with us this summer. I totally forgot about them. Today, they became a staple food for poor Mr. T. They soothed his poor mouth and didn't require his tongue to work much to help get them down.

My biggest concern is the fact that it could be shared with L. It takes about seven days to pass and just makes eating very difficult. We're washing our hands a lot and hoping for the best.

Wow!

As of yesterday, L is two months old. I'm amazed at all that she's able to do at such a young age. She smiles almost constantly and tries to "talk" to us with her funny little gurgles and coos between smiles. Sometimes it even sounds like she's saying, "Hi." She's so fun just to sit and look at.

Today I bought her some little colorful plastic links at Target. I put them together and hung them from the handle of her carseat. I walked away for a few minutes and when I came back, she was holding them in her hand.

The "bag of flour" stage is going by so quickly. I can't believe how fast they grow and develop.

When I took her in for her check up yesterday, she was eleven pounds and twenty-two inches long. Just like our other girls, thin and long.

I took A in for a check up too. The doctor asked him if she was a good baby. He said no. She said, "Oh, does she cry a lot." He said, "No. She's a great baby." So glad to hear he loves her so much.

After the appointment, the doctor gave him the traditional sticker for being a good patient. He thanked her and asked where L's sticker was. Sometimes my kids ask for stickers for other siblings knowing that they'll eventually get the sticker, so I was interested to see what he was up to. The doctor asked him what kind of sticker he thought L would want. He said, "A princess." I thought for sure he'd choose the girl car from "Cars" (the movie), but he wouldn't hear of it. It had to be a princess. He said it was because she was a princess; not a term I love for little girls because it makes me think of someone who rules the roost and is spoiled rotten, but he doesn't think of it in that context. Like I said before, I'm so glad he loves her so much. We all do.