High to Low to Gross

Wednesday night I was exhausted.  I don't really have a reason other than the last seven days included an unexpected death, funeral, school board meeting, extra softball practice, and life in general.  On with the point.  I went to bed a little before 10PM.  If you know me at all, you know that I'm one of those people who actually fall asleep between moving toward the bed and hitting the pillow.  Seriously, sleep is my gift.  Needless to say, at 10:24 PM when I heard the panic-stricken yell, "Momma! I frow up in my bed!" I was jolted from a deep sleep.

 

Unfortunately, Blake was speaking the truth.  Chad helped Blake get into the rain (shower) while I volunteered  was forced to clean the vomit sheets.  After 20 minutes or so Blake was back in her bed sleeping.  Chad and I had a brief conversation and decided that something probably didn't agree with her stomach.  Relieved to be through with the drama, Chad and I were back to bed by 11PM.

 

11:48 I hear "Momma!  I frow up in my bed AGAIN!"  Once again, I jump out of the bed and meet a vomit covered toddler in the living room. Again, Chad puts her in the rain and I change sheets.  This time, I decide that I'll make her a pallet on the floor in our bedroom.  The motherly thing to say is "so that she would be close and I could take better care of her".  However, the truth is that I didn't have anymore clean sheets for a twin bed, and I didn't want her to puke on my new living room furniture.  Regardless, Blake was sleeping again by 12:10AM.

 

I'll spare you the details here.  Just know that Blake impressed Chad and I both with her ability to wake up, run to the bathroom, and aim.  We were up 3 additional times before 5AM when our day normally starts.

 

Although Chad, Blake, and I were exhausted, Kennedy and Taylor had to go to school.  We did our usual morning routine.  Well, usual except that Blake and I came back home instead of heading to LC.  She spent the morning alternating in and out of consciousness and asking for more "green stuff".  After 12 hours of periodic vomiting, she was able to tolerate Sprite and about 6 goldfish.  I thought she was on her way to a full recovery.  Not so much.  Blake spent the afternoon in a fever induced trance.  She was pitiful. 

 

This illness took Blake from the high of life at 4:30 PM.

 

To the low of misery in less than 6 hours.

 

 

She was so uncomfortable during the day that she kept removing pieces of her clothing.  At 8:30 Thursday morning she had on panties, shorts, and shirt.  At noon, she had on panties and a shirt.  About 4:00 she was wearing panties.  By the time Chad came home at 6:30 she was naked.

 

Within the hour, she seemed to be feeling a little better.  Her fever finally broke.  However, she was not interested in eating, and quite frankly, I was relieved.  As the rest of us were eating dinner, Blake was lying in the chair watching cartoons.  She said, "Daddy.  Smell my hand!"  Chad called back to her, "What?"  She said, "Daddy, smell my hand.  It stinks!"  He said, "I'm eating right now."  I left the table to check on her in the living room.  She giggled and said, "I said Daddy smell my hand cause it stinks.  I put it on my hinny and tell my Daddy to smell it." 

 

Suddenly, I knew our nasty little BADkid was back!

My first 'letter' from BADkid

After school today, BADkid wanted to listen to the music 'super loud'. The music was already blaring loud, but I gently tapped it up another notch. Still, that was not 'super loud'. 

After realizing that her whining wasn't making any difference, Blake rode quietly. When we came to a stop, she proudly displayed her creation.  In my best mom voice I said 'Aww. Thank you. It's so pretty'. 

She said, 'You know what I write?'  I sweetly say, 'What did you write to me?'  

Sassiness oozed out of her as she said, 'It says you being so mean a me an don't put my music super loud'. 

Wow, my precious baby sent me hate mail. 

She really does understand!

Blake is a typical three year old. You know the kind that says, 'Momma, can I have a logurt?  Can I have a logurt? Momma, just one logurt?' all without a breath or the opportunity to hear the answer before asking again. Yes, she is that child. If the response is in favor of her request, she typicall responds with a fist pump and 'yesssss'. However, if the response is opposed to her request, she often begins the cycle of questioning again.  Based on her behavior, one might assume that continuing to ask the same question over and over has frequently resulted in a change of answer. However, the reality is that she is just hard headed! I often find myself saying to her 'Blake, I answered your question. I am not going to argue with you.'  The often results in her continuing to ask and me refusing to acknowledge that she is speaking. Eventually something else will get her attention and she will move on with life. 

Yesterday on the way home from softball practice, Blake was pretending to be the mom and her children were misbehaving. (I can't imagine where she may have been exposed to that!).  After several minutes of conversation and reprimanding her 'kids' I heard her say, 'I said no an I not dunna argue you!'

Even the Security Guard Giggles Sometimes

Today we went to the National Archives. It is amazing to me that they have the actual documents so I can truly see the Declaration of Independence, Constitution of the United States, and the Bill of Rights.  As we were viewing the documents, I was quizzing the girls on the facts. Imagine this conversation in the rotunda under the supervision of armed security guards. 

Me: Taylor, do you see all the states listed at the bottom of the Constitution?

Taylor: (pointing) right here?

Me: Yes. Do you see Texas?

Taylor: No. 

Me:  Why not?

Taylor:  Because I can't read cursive yet.

Even the super-professional security guard giggled. 

In her defense, when we told her what we were going to see, she knew about the 13 colonies. Apparently I framed the question all wrong for my literal child. 

This trip has been full of learning and sprinkled with priceless conversation. More to come. I've been taking notes! 

Pebbles of Knowledge from Vietnam Veterans Memorial

While walking from the Korean War Veterans Memorial toward the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, Kennedy asked, 'Do they only have the names of the people killed in the war on this wall?'  I answered, 'Yes. Why?  Do you know someone who fought but wasn't killed in Vietnam?'  (FYI: I learned at the memorial that I was wrong. The wall also contains those who are missing in action.)  We continued along and Kennedy answered my question with a somewhat disgusted flair as she said, 'Um, yes.'  Interested to know who she had on her mind, I tried to scroll through my brain to see who she actually new and realized had fought in Vietnam. As she looked back over her shoulder with just the right 'Mom you should know this' attitude, she said, 'Silas Marion Robertson!'

Wow!  Never saw that coming.  

Tough Questions from Girls

Today has been full of the most amazing conversations with my girls.  I'll get right to the point...

On the way home from school...

Kennedy:  Well, I think I'm going to break up with Mr.XYZ.
Me:  Really.  Why?
Kennedy:  Well, you know we used to be able to just talk about stuff and I could just say what I thought.  Now I kind of feel like I have to be careful because I wonder what he's going to think.  You know?  I don't want to make him mad.
Me:  Uh huh. (As I cringe because she cares what a boy thinks)  So you're worried about what he thinks about what you think?
Kennedy: Really, he said something today that I just knew was wrong.  You know when you hear someone say something that you KNOW is wrong, but you don't want to say anything because you don't want them to get mad at you?
Me:  Ohhh.  What did he say that you knew was wrong? (as I'm imagining something really philosophical and important that has me quite curious because this Mr.XYZ is a great kid from a great family that has values and beliefs very similar to ours)
Kennedy:  I heard him saying that Wylie is in the middle of town and that Middle School and High School are way out of the way.  Mom, you know that Wylie IS NOT in the middle of town.
Me:  I agree Wylie is on the edge of town, not in the middle, but do you really think that is worth breaking up about?
Kennedy:  Well, this is not the first time we've had this problem.
Me:  Really?
Kennedy:  Well, not about that exact conversation, but sometimes he says things, and I know he is wrong.  Before he was my boyfriend I would just tell him he's wrong, but now it just makes it too weird.  I think it was just easier before boyfriends.  You know, when we were all just friends and just told each other what we think?
Me:  Life is definitely easier before boyfriends.  I agree that you should take life easy in fifth grade.  But, maybe you could also consider that it's okay for your boyfriend to know what you really think?
Kennedy:  I still think I'm going to break up with him when I finally get the chance to talk to him again.
Me:  Well, you do what you think is best, but remember that he was your friend first and a real friend is nice and says things for herself, not through other kids.

We stop at the pound and see a mom dog with 5 tiny (born today) puppies.  We head on home and do homework, etc.  About an hour and a half later, we leave to take Kennedy to softball practice.

Taylor: Mom, you have to have a bull and a girl cow to make baby cows, right?
Me: Yes.
Taylor:  Mom, so if you don't have a bull and a girl cow then you won't get any calves?
Me:  That's right, Taylor
Taylor:  So, a boy bull and a girl cow can have a baby cow.
Me:  Yes, Taylor.  A boy bull can get a girl cow pregnant so that she can have a baby calf.
Taylor:  How exactly does that work, anyway?
Me:  I'll tell you exactly how that works, but not today in the car on the way to softball practice.
Taylor:  Oh.

So, I call Chad who was supposed to pick Kennedy up from softball practice on his way home from work.  I conveniently offer to meet him to let him take Taylor and Blake home while I wait for Kennedy at softball practice.  It wasn't really avoidance, but I'll admit after I had the plan I was kind of hoping that on the way home Taylor just might say, "Dad, how exactly does that work, anyway?"

On the way home from softball practice, Kennedy surprises me with some questions of her own.

Kennedy:  Mom, will you teach me how to drive?
Me:  No.  That's Daddy's deal.
Kennedy:  What do you mean?
Me:  I do bottles, diapers, and homework, but driving is Daddy's deal.
Kennedy:  So you just do bottles, diapers, and homework?
Me:  Well, I'll even do pads and tampons, but driving is Daddy's deal.
Kennedy:  You do boyfriends too.
Me:  Yes, I'll do boyfriends but driving is Daddy's deal.
Kennedy:  So, you're saying you'll do tampons and even boyfriends but you won't do driving?
Me:  Exactly (stated with great authority as I realized how ridiculous it must sound)

It's been an exhilarating, exhausting day as "Mom". 

Carseat or Toxic Landfill?

I feel like it's my job as a woman, wife, mother, and friend to share my nuggets of wisdom (when appropriate) with others to help them feel 'normal' or avoid unnecessary grief.

For example, many of my friends who had their first baby after I had Kennedy know the 'I don't even want her story'.  Similarly, Chad and I made it our mission to tell new parents that newborns sleep amazingly well in the hospital only to come home and forget how.  We seriously felt like some great people let us down by not telling us that our first night home from the hospital with a baby would be about 15 minutes on this side of the destination hades.

So, here's my newest wisdom. Those of you who figured this out and didn't let me in on the secret are on my Christmas list under 'Memaw's fruitcake'. That's not good, folks. 

Back to the nugget of wisdom...buying one of those 250 in 1 convertible carseats is a bad idea. First of all, those of us in Texas know that with the fairly recent law changes, kids need to be in a carseat until they go to high school. Well, maybe not all kids, but when you only have 1 person in 3 generations of family over 5 feet 8 inches tall, your kids can expect to take their booster seat on their first date. 

The convertible carseat seemed so obvious with child 3.  She was the last kid, so there would be no need to trade, upgrade, shuffle like we did with the older kids.  However, the seat is FILTHY. We don't typically let our kids eat in the car. It doesn't matter. Today I completely disassembled the seat. It was absolutely shameful. I hesitate to post these picture because CPS may be able to use it as evidence of unlivable conditions.  

Seriously, she's been using this seat for a little over 2 years. It has been spot cleaned a time or two. How does this happen?  Ugh. 

Here's the best part. Look at the ooey, gooey, sticky nastiness down in the seat. Biohazard is the word that came to mind as I began to scrape and scrub with disinfectant wipes.

Now for the last picture, I will say that I do take the seat out, vacuum underneath it and shake it out often. Seriously, about once a month the seat receives  what I naively thought was a decent 'shake down'. After performing said shakedown outside, this is what I dumped out in the floor while disassembling the seat. 

My thoughts are that a convertible carseat sounds great. Who doesn't love the idea of needing only 1 for all of the ages and stages?  However, the carseat becomes a toxic landfill before the child outgrows it.  

Unfortunately for me, I'm both a tightwad and a little OCD. The filth is gross, but the idea of getting rid of a perfectly safe carseat to buy a new, clean one just won't settle in my soul. Therefore, these tools and a lot of elbow grease had to suffice. 

I must say, the end product really wasn't too bad. 

Carseat looks pretty good, but I'm exhausted. All of those hooks and straps just pop right off. Not a single one just popped right back on though. I think I'll take on this project again in exactly 894 days!  

Those of you with babies and toddlers in your future, consider the reality of the toxicity of that convertible carseat over the course of 1-7 years. Might be ok to get one stage at a time and trash it when time to progress to next type of seat. 

Three

Numbers are an integral part of our daily lives.  I'm sure everyone else is just like us in the ridiculous number of numbers that you encounter every single day.  We have phone numbers, house numbers, passwords. We even have a digital lock on our house with a number to make it open so I don't have to keep up with the key. 

At least once every few weeks, one of our kids will get on a kick about "favorites".  We answer questions about favorite foods, movies, books, colors, and numbers.  The number three has a special place in the list of favorites at our house.  Dale Earnhardt drove the number three car before he was killed.  As early as February 2002, the first NASCAR race after Kennedy's birth, our kids have enjoyed (or endured) countless hours of NASCAR and conversations about Earnhardt and Junior.  Needless to say, when Kennedy was asked what number she preferred on her softball team last month, she immediately answered "three!". 

The number three is significant to Chad because of his hero and Kennedy because she adores her daddy and has been brainwashed.  Taylor is excited about third grade next month.  We do have three kids and are currently living in our third house as a family while I work my third job since college.  However, the number three is my least favorite number! 

BADkid is three.  I love that child with every fiber of my being.  However, she is three.  I can't even recall the number of times (maybe 33,333) I have thought and said, "I don't remember three being this bad before".  Is it because she is the THIRD child?  Maybe it's because I'm in my 30s?  Maybe it's a combination of all of the above? 

Blake Alayne is an affectionate, tender, loving child for about 20 minutes of each week.  Beyond that, she is wide open and will test every single thing you say to her every single time.  If you've seen her in action, you probably said something really disgusting like "she's so cute".  You probably heard me say something really honest like "only because she doesn't live at your house".  Seriously, I love her, but she is wearing me out.

Here's a tiny glimpse into my morning at the grocery store.

Get out of car and unbuckle kid who has taken off her shoes.  Tell her to put her shoes on.  Take doll and blanket away from kid and repeat that she must put her shoes on her feet.  Wait 2 minutes because she has decided to squeal "my caint!" instead of bend over and pick up her shoes.  Explain to kid that she can take either the doll or the blanket into the store, but not both.  Give up reasoning with kid.  Throw doll and blanket back in car and head for the entrance.  Hold kid's hand in a death grip across parking lot as kid tries to pull hand away and continuously repeats "I big girl.  I listen!"  Get buggy.  Explain to kid that she must hold buggy.  Kid darts off away from buggy.  Put kid in seat in buggy as kid demands "I big girl. I listen. I walk."  Pick shoes up off floor and toss into back of buggy.  Quickly zip through store and buy only the necessary items while repeating the phrase "sit down" at least once every three minutes and resorting to spanking.  Check out, open car door and let kid get in while putting groceries in the truck.  Return buggy to holder, tell kid to sit in her seat to buckle.  Kid tries to climb into front seat of car, grab kid, explain danger of playing in car, put her in seat, turn around because someone spoke, kid tries to escape, grab kid, hold into seat while buckling as she screams, "My do it my se---elf!!"

In our world with the three year old, everything takes three times as long and requires more patience than I can accumulate in three weeks.  Some days I feel like the only time I can relax my guard is when she is sleeping, which only happens briefly.  My BADkid spends so much time and energy getting into mischief and demanding things be her way that when she finally crashes, she is "throwed outta gear" like this.  (Yes, those of us living life with a transmission mechanic actually hear and use phrases such as that).

I do love this BADkid.  I sometimes even sit and chuckle as I think of all the cute, precious, funny things she says and does.  As I was finishing this post she woke up from her brief nap.  She stretched, climbed up in my chair, hugged me and said, "I wuv you sooo much."  Of course I said, "I love you soooo much too" as I silently thought "One day she will be four and "they" say I'll miss this, but right now I'm thankful we only have to endure 365 days of THREE!"

Things I Ponder When I'm Home Alone

Chad and all three girls have been gone most of the day.  Yes, this is a rare occurrence for me to be home alone.  I've enjoyed every minute of it.  I dedicated the first couple of hours to a nap!  Then I decided that if I was  a "good girl" and did productive things that maybe I would get rewarded with another day alone sooner rather than later.

I started with the garbage.  As I was walking around the house picking up the garbage from the various cans as well as the random pieces lying in the floor, under the edge of a piece of furniture, and on the counter, I noticed (not for the first time) that we are "trashy" people.  We aren't dirty people.  In general, our home is what most would consider "neat enough".  I think that requires us to use the trashcans often.  That use causes us to have a large amount of trash.  And, as many things as I love about this house, the fact that the "designer" (Joe Akin) didn't include a nice, cubbyhole place for a trashcan really bothers me.  We now have a small kitchen trashcan under the kitchen sink.  For many people that might work wonderfully.  However, when the can gets close to full, I have developed the habit of removing the bag and placing it in the kitchen floor.  I hate to "waste" the bag by not filling it to capacity, but if I leave it under the sink, the trash always winds up in the cabinet under the sink instead of in the bag.  I know this is a serious problem in the real world, right?

So, while I was enjoying the peace and quiet and could actually think without the "Mamma!" and "Taylor kick my lip!" I had a brilliant idea.  In general, we as a family make decisions for the "benefit of the most".  For example, I wanted a Corvette.  However, it only had two seats so I opted for the Camry instead.  It could comfortably seat all of our family members--benefit of the most.  Or on our recent trip to Corpus Christi, I could have spent another day just lying at the beach with a good book.  However, the kids really wanted to go see the U.S.S. Lexington and the Texas State Aquarium.  My natural thought process was, as a whole, we would all get to see/do/touch something that was new and exciting at the aquarium and aircraft carrier museum.  On the beach, they would be satisfied, but not excited.  So, once again--benefit of the most.

Back to the trash issue.  I was looking around the kitchen trying to figure out a solution for this trash problem.  It was almost an audible voice (surely it was God!) that spoke and said, "benefit of the most".  I had a plan.  Chad and I are the only ones who use the oven.  Mostly me, but he does cook breakfast on the weekends.  Kennedy, Taylor and Blake are never allowed to use the oven without supervision.  So, what if we have the oven taken out and replace it with a trash compactor?  It's so obvious!  I'm willing to sacrifice my oven so that all five of us can have something that will obviously benefit the most!

Chad and the girls just drove up!  Can't wait to share this brilliance.  I'll let you know how it goes over with the family.

My Miracle Whip

The post about our wild and crazy April ended on a note about April showers bring Miracle Whip. It's true! 

On May 1, when the girls and I got home after school, we found a young calf lying in the back yard. She was frail and I honestly thought she was dead. Thinking out loud, I asked, "How in the world did that calf get up here in the yard, and where is its mamma?" Kennedy and Taylor immediately developed their version of the story. Naturally, they assumed our old dog Hershey that's never noticed other life and our 12-13 year old crippled, one eyed (with cataracts) dog Buckwheat must have "stolen the baby from its mom and drug it to the house for us to see". Yes, it kind of reminded me of the little girl on Higgleytown Heroes who comes up with the most off the wall ways to solve problems.

So, I took a couple of pictures of the sweet baby and tried to stand her up to see if she could walk. I quickly noticed several gashes in her back near her hind quarters, and she just stumbled around. I called Daddy. He is actually the farmer. He was in Longview and told me to call my Uncle Tim. Tim came down, and he and I began to discuss the possible ways this calf with gashes wound up in the yard without a mamma cow even looking for her. He hauled her long, lanky body out to the shade tree in the pasture where all the cows come up and sniffed her. None of them acted overly interested in the baby.

She stumbled toward the pasture and fell. Later determined that's "Mom"

 After a couple of hours and no rescue by "mom", we decided to bottle feed the heifer. She did not like the bottle, but she was so weak. During all the chaos and numerous sessions of trying to figure out what in the world happened to this calf (that was not newborn), a man in the oilfield approached the house. He asked if I found a calf on my porch. I said, "Well, I found her in the yard. Did you put a calf on my porch?" He chuckled and said that while driving by they saw buzzards on the calf (literally eating her alive) and knew they would kill it. They knocked on the front door and then walked around to the back and saw all the toys and thought anyone with kids would try to ave it. He again chuckled and said, "I could tell the calf was safe from these two ferocious guard dogs but thought they would at least keep the buzzards off the calf here by the house." I'm pretty sure Kennedy and Taylor were offended that he didn't think our dogs could/would drag a calf away from its mom to put on the porch! We were relieved to know how and why the calf was out of the pasture.

 Remember that lists of "dreams" I wrote about here a couple of months ago? I saw my chance and jumped on it. Anything that we were going to bottle feed had to have a name. The girls and I went through thousands of names. I finally said her name needs something to do with May since our journey together began on May 1. Mayo quickly became Miracle Whip. We all agreed that only a miracle could explain her being alive and in our care.

 5:00AM May 2, 2013 I was trying to bottle feed the calf while my dad was puking in the pasture but was determined that I might need some help. Again, Miracle Whip was not happy about the experience. We were finally able to get some milk down her, but decided that tubing her would be the next option if she didn't learn to accept the bottle enough to keep her alive.

 5:00PM May 2, 2013 I was fighting a stronger calf who still was not at all interested in the bottle. Daddy finally tube fed her. Randomly in Texas, a cold front moved in and the lows for the night were predicted to be in the lower 30s with rain. I couldn't stand it, and decided to move the dog pen to the carport and put out blankets, etc. to keep Miracle Whip warmer and dry.

BADkid brushing Miracle Whip

 
 5:00AM May 3, 2013 Calf was stronger from the adequate supply of milk through the tube and got a little more active and resistant to the bottle.

 3:00PM May 3, 2013. Daddy took Miracle Whip to see Dr.Lori Cavitt who gave her some 'miracle' concoction of medicines. She said that she seems healthy and had probably been injured by being stepped on and then couldn't get up or keep up so mom abandoned her. Miracle Whip continued to improve.

 May 4-5, 2013 Miracle Whip had ups and downs. It was similar (though much less traumatic) as a baby in NICU. One afternoon I would think we had turned a corner, and by that night I'd be in tears thinking she was going to die. It was the craziest experience. The girls began to love on the calf and brush her, etc. She was so sweet, but every single morning she would refuse to get up, stand up, etc.  I hoped that her serious regression was too to the abnormal cold/wet weather each night.

 8:00PM May 5, 2013 Miracle Whip declined. She would not take bottle. She would not do anything cooperative. My hope was that by the morning, she would be hungry and cooperate.

 5:00AM Monday May 6, 2013,I tried to bottle feed the calf without any significant amount of milk going down. Frustrated I decide to tube feed her. She fought that too. She was healthy enough and recognized the tube so that I could no longer manhandle her alone to get the tube in correctly, open the valve, etc. I came in the house and threw all the stuff in the floor of the utility room and told Chad to just go shoot her because she was going to die anyway. I cried and cried. He made the same attempts at feeding her. He finally said, "Well, she will either live or die, but we've done all we can do." I called Daddy and made arrangements for him to come try to help tube feed the calf that evening...if she was still alive after 36 hours without significant milk.

 3:30PM Monday, May 6, 2013 I came home from school and put the leash on Miracle Whip to try to get her to walk around (per Dr.Cavitt's suggestions). The other cows were up in the front pasture. Miracle Whip immediately headed toward the other cows and tried to get through the fence to get to them. I opened the gate and let her in. The cows were curious about her, but obviously a little skittish with her bright red collar, bright red leash, and human attachments. I finally let the leash go so that she could approach the cattle. I knew that if I needed to, I could catch her with the leash so I wasn't very concerned. The mamma cow let Miracle Whip try to nurse. I watched them for a while. I finally decided that I should get Miracle Whip back. And, the fun began.

 As I tried to sneak up and grab the dangling leash, she ran. I ran and she ran some more. I tried to corner her in a section of pasture and she ran and jumped and kicked like a healthy calf. I decided to rest a while and get a better plan. I herded all the cows to a smaller section of pasture and tried to sneak up on her and grab the leash again. She saw me and jumped and ran and kicked and ran and ran and ran. When she stopped and looked at me her tongue was hanging out. That meant that she was tired and ready to give up, right? Wrong, she continued to run if I even thought about approaching her. My three kids were sitting on the trailer out of the way cheering and yelling "You almost got her!" and "She sure is fast Mom!" It was a circus. 

After admitting defeat by the "sick calf", I called Daddy and said that I didn't need him to help me feed her, but I needed him to help me catch her to get the leash. We were finally able to pen her in the corral and get the leash off of her. We turned her back out to the pasture with her goofy mom and hoped for the best. It was such a bittersweet moment. My kids are too young to leave the nest, but it must be a tiny glimpse into that experience as a parent. I was so proud that she was able to be a cow and hoped she was strong enough to survive, but a part of me really wanted her to need me and come back to let me love on her some more. Every single day for the next few weeks, I went out and looked for Miracle Whip. She was always there and always doing okay. She was easy to pick out with her red collar. I'm sure the other cows were jealous of her bling!

Miracle Whip sporting her red collar in the pasture with "Mom"

 Finally, last week Daddy, Chad and I had to pen her up in the corral again to get the collar from around her neck. She had grown enough that it was going to cause a problem in the near future. Again, it was bittersweet.

 She's been back with her mom for over a month. She is growing and being a normal cow.  Even without her red collar, she is easy to pick out. Remember her tongue hanging out because she was tired? Well, apparently she's got some kind of problem. Her tongue is always hanging out. I asked Dr.Cavitt if she was retarded. She said, "I would say neurological".  She may be "neurological" but she's My Miracle Whip!

Things I hear in the car...

After getting into the hot car and having to wait about 90 seconds for me to get in and turn on the air conditioner, Taylor said, 'Man! It's so hot I think I'm going to faint!'

Naturally, BADkid had to repeat what she heard and said, 'Momma, I donna paint!'

Taylor corrected her with 'FAINT, Ffff, not Ppp'.

BADkid says, 'I donna faint!'

Thinking it was funny, I asked, 'Blake, do you even know what faint means?'

In typical 'I know she's not asking me but I'm the bigger sister and I know everything' fashion, Taylor says with attitude, 'It's when you fall down and don't wake back up!'

Kennedy very seriously says, 'Umm, no, that's dead!'

April: Ahhh, it never slowed down

What.A.Month

April 1-4:  STAAR EOC testing.  Obviously, my personal children were not directly affected with this testing.  However, it made life at work stressful.  Oh, and the fact that I failed to order mandatory tests for 2 students didn't really help my stress level.  In the end, it all worked out.  And yes, I do still have a job.

April 5:  Daddy had a stress test.  We've been so blessed with his health since his diagnosis of diabetes and his triple bypass years ago.  Annual stress tests have become a "non topic" because they've been uneventful.

April 6:  HGSA pictures and first games. Kennedy played well and the Thrillers won.

Kennedy playing second base.

April 7: Buy refrigerator and stove for the new house (to be delivered on Wednesday)

April 8: Telpas testing, appraisal on Henderson house, news that Dad's stress test was abnormal, 7:45 softball game

April 9:  Telpas testing day #2, appraisal on Minden house, tumbling, 6:00 softball game

April 10: Spend two hours on the phone with The Home Depot people trying to locate our new appliances.  They were supposed to be delivered to the Tyler store.  The people at the Tyler store assured us that they were not delivered there.  I called the Longview store (where we actually purchased them) and explained the situation.  The guy assured me that the computer said that the appliances were delivered.  I clearly explained to him that they were NOT at the Tyler store where they were supposed to be delivered.  His brilliant response..."Oh, that's not good".  Exactly.  Not Good, and I'm NOT P-A-T-I-E-N-T either.  Two managers and 18 hours later, the appliances were located.

April 11:  Dad's heart catheterization and stent placement.  Before the procedure, Dad was in an area of the hospital with several curtained areas around a nurse's station.  After the procedure they brought him back to the same "room".  As he was coming out of the anesthesia, he would ask, "Did the doctor come in and talk to us yet?"  We kept telling him that the nurse talked to us, but that the doctor had to leave the hospital and would be back to talk with him.  After about 30 times of asking, he surprised us when he asked"Am I back in the same stall?"  I giggled and assured him he was in the same "stall".  He said, "So when I put those clothes on, they should be mine and fit, right?"  "Yes Daddy, they are yours and should fit, but I don't think you'll be needing them in the next few hours.  You're going to spend the night tonight."  Naturally, his next question was, "Did the doctor come in and talk to us yet?"  Ahh...I love that man.

"Enjoying" his meatloaf

April 12:  Blake Alayne turns three!  We had the traditional doughnut and candle for breakfast. Click here to see her early years and here to see her one year ago.  April 12 was also the last night we spent in our home in Henderson.

 

No, she did not get to eat "free doughnuts" even on her bday.

Pinky finger needs a little help sometimes

April 13:  The big move.  Although we had been moving things for a month, this was "the moving day".  Kennedy ended up staying in town with the former neighbors.  Taylor called to come home.  Naturally, we were full of energy and everything was put away at the end of the day so when Taylor began to puke it was no big deal.  Yeah.  Stomach virus on night #1 in the new house.  She was pretty pathetic when I found her literally snoring in the bathtub after several episodes of being sick.

Thankful she propped her head up before going to sleep

April 14-19:  Appointments out of town, dog groomer, softball games, gymnastics, life in the new house, close on Henderson house

April 19:  Bad weather day for me, but not the girls.  I was able to eat lunch with Taylor for the first time all year.  Secretly made homemade icing for cupcakes for birthday party.  Taylor ate a cupcake and said, "The cupcake is good, but that icing is naaasty!"  Awesome.

April 20:  Blake's birthday party.  Who really plans a party at home exactly one week after moving?  I did, and it was a terrible idea.  However, we had a good time and no one died from looking at the unpacked boxes and stacks of things to put away.  This was truly one of the best birthday parties ever.  Miss Susan and Mr.Jackie brought their team of mules and wagon for the kids and adults to ride.  Blake sat up front and rode and rode and rode.  We had to bribe her away from the "horses" with cupcakes and gifts.  After about 45 minutes, she was back to the wagon rides. 

Mr.Jackie, Blake and Sophi leading the ride

As if bringing mules and a wagon wasn't awesome enough, Mr.Jackie and Mrs.Susan also brought Blake a rabbit for her birthday. As you mothers out there gasp with shock, consider this fact--she actually brought EACH of my girls a rabbit for Blake's birthday!!  For the last 9 years, I thought we were friends.  Seriously, I adore animals and had considered buying ONE myself so I agreed to her gift ahead of time.  After all, remember why we moved to the country?  Each of the 3 rabbits has a distinct personality.  Kennedy named her rabbit Spotty.  He/she is quite fast and not thrilled to be handled.  Blake named her rabbit Honey Bunny, and she is...well, you can see for yourself.

Honey Bunny, the "baby"

 Taylor's rabbit is a lionhead rabbit, and he/she is super cute.  Taylor calls him/her Swirls.  However, I call him/her Benadryl.  Can you guess why?

Sorry, I couldn't get this one to rotate but isn't she cute with hives and swollen eyes?

April 24: First day to come home right after school.  As an attempt to reinstate "normal" I planned to serve grilled burgers and bacon wrapped jalapenos for dinner.  After just a few moments, I smelled smoke and realized that my meal had been transformed into charcoal briquettes.  Since the goal was "normal" I decided quick and easy fish sticks were appropriate.  For the record, I do not serve my family fish sticks often. 

April 22-25: TAKS and STAAR testing.  This time is affected my job and my child.  Kennedy was so excited that she could wear clothes other than uniforms to school.  The weather was beautiful.  She headed for the car with a jacket.  I asked her why she needed a jacket.  Clearly irritated with my questioning, she said, "Because those teachers are so stressed out on testing days that they keep is freezing cold and walk around doing this (fanning her face with her hands) while we are cold."  And, that's another post all together.

April 26: Close on house in Minden (that we've been living in for 2 weeks).

April 27: TAAF State Gymnastics Competition in Denton.

Taylor's Split Jump

April 29: make up softball game
April 30:  G/T field trip to Art Museum in Tyler and softball game


You know that saying "April showers bring May flowers"?  Well, April showers brought us Miracle Whip!  Stay tuned for the details!

Easter

We are M-O-V-I-N-G!!

Things at our house have been wild and crazy.  I'm not really sure exactly when it happened, but sometime at the beginning of March, we decided to move.  It seems like it was almost by accident, but we are really excited.

We've decided to buy the house my Mom and Dad moved out of last fall.  Many people think I "grew up" in that area or even in that house.  Although I sometimes feel like I "grew up" in Minden, I did not. My parents actually built that house and moved into it when I was a freshman at Lyon College.  I did visit there during Christmas holidays, spring break, and most of the summers for four years while I was in school.  When I graduated, I lived there for three weeks before getting married.  So, yes, it is the house my parents owned, but I've never truly lived there.

The first question most people as is "Why?"  I guess from the outside it probably looks like an unusual location.  It is actually the wrong direction considering where Chad and I both work.  It is much farther from our home-away-from-home, Wal-mart.  However, it has room!  The house is not a huge house by any stretch of the imagination.  We will still only have 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms.  However, I am proud to say that I will have a utility room!  No more laundry in my bedroom floor.  If I had a dime for every time someone came to visit and saw me folding laundry in my bedroom floor, I could afford to pay someone to do my laundry.  

Back to the "why".  Aside from the room inside the house, we will have lots of room outside.  The girls are really excited about climbing trees and roaming in the woods.  I am excited about level ground for bikes, trikes, etc.  Chad is just a little excited to finally have a shop.  He is a patient man.  Since we got married, he has wanted a shop.  Several times along the way, we discussed building a shop.  Each time, he chose to put the wants and needs of the rest of us above his own.  Finally, the man will have a place to call his own.  It's a big shop that will accommodate his project truck as well as the tools required to work on it.

While Chad is hanging out in the shop, I fully intend to embrace the idea of Dickerson Farm.  After we get settled in and re-adjusted to life in the country, I have plans.  I want some chickens.  I don't want a lot of chickens, but I've never had a chicken.  I want a couple of chickens so I can have fresh eggs.  I would also like to raise a few baby chicks.  I have already spotted my garden space.  According to my mom, I have a green thumb.  I hope she's right.  I've grown tomatoes in buckets the last few years, but I'm branching out.  I want some tomatoes, purple hull peas, squash, and onions.  And probably the project that I'll regret the most...bottle feeding a calf.  I hope to find a calf that needs to be bottle fed within a year or so.  I know it will be a lot of work and I'll be frustrated with the time commitment, etc.  However, I want to share the experience with my kids.  And of course, I LOVE to drive my Daddy's tractor!! 

So, things are busy.  The last month has been crammed full of painting, packing, and purging.  We've acquired a lot of junk in eight years in this house.  And naturally, we would undertake the huge project during one of the busiest times of the year.  March and April are the busy times for my new job at school.  They also tend to be busy times at Dunn Transmissions, Inc.  Taylor is in the midst of gymnastic competitions while Kennedy is getting rolling with softball season.  BADkid is anxiously awaiting her third birthday party.  She has graciously requested a Cinderella-Minnie Mouse-horse birthday party at "Mimi and Popsi's house".  We may never convince her that it will be OUR HOUSE.

Ur-ine Love

Today I had an appointment with the carpet cleaning people.  I came home from school and waited patiently on the representative to come in and provide an estimate and/or clean the carpet.  Finally, the door bell rang.  I looked through the glass and immediately thought, “This must be the owner’s son.  He can’t be more than 18 years old.”  Regardless of his youthful appearance, he came in and began to walk through the house and ask questions about my expectations and concerns with the carpet.  I kindly answered his questions.  He inquired about a “black light inspection”.  I kind of hesitated because of my knowledge of black lights and the fact that they reveal all of your dirty secrets…literally. 

You can continue reading this post on Bethany Wallace's blog, where I was honored to contribute to her "28 Days of Love" project.

Would He Share His Jacket?

Kennedy and I had a real "heart to heart" last week about boys.  She's a little shy about the subject, but definitely interested in more information. She mentioned a certain someone who she enjoys visiting with at school.  I asked her if he liked her too.  She shrugged her shoulders, grinned, and said, "I don't know."  We've spent time discussing appropriate behavior for young ladies and young men.  Specifically, Chad and I have tried to instill in her that it is normal to like boys.  However, it is not acceptable to be aggressive with boys.  It's such a fine line.  I want her to be confident, but not "that girl".  We've tried to model and point out other examples of chivalry and proper male-female interactions.  So, after considering what we've tried to teach her, I thought the "I don't know" provided an opportunity to pick her brain.  

Me:  If it was freezing cold outside, and you didn't have on a jacket but Mr.XYZ did, would he let you wear his jacket?

K:  I don't know.  My friends who are girls would because they always have two jackets.  They're just like me.  They forget to bring one home so they always have extra jackets in their lockers.

Me:  If I was standing outside in the cold, would Daddy let me wear his jacket?

K:  Of course!

Me: Why do you think he would?

K:  Because he's your HUSBAND!

Me:  Why else?

K: Because he likes you?

Me:  Because when you care about someone, you try to help. Daddy cares about my comfort and warmth.  And, because he's my HUSBAND.  

She kind of laughed and bowed out of the conversation.  I just giggled and thanked God that she was willing to talk about boys with me.  Although it is an exciting time as a mom, it is most definitely the scariest time I can remember thus far.

The next day when I picked Kennedy up from school she closed the car door, buckled her seat belt and said, "Well, I asked him."  I had no idea what she was talking about.  I said, "Asked who? What?"  She grinned and said, "I asked Mr.XYZ if it was cold outside if he would let me wear his jacket."  I smiled and said, "Well...what did he say?"  She said, "First he said he would, but then he said he wouldn't."  I was confused and said, "What?"  She said, "Well, he said he would but then he remembered that he dropped it in the ants the night before so he wouldn't want me to get ants all over me so he didn't think he would."  I smiled and asked, "So, what do you think that means?"  She blushed and said, "He probably likes me."

Again, I thanked God that she wants to talk about this delicate subject.  Again, I asked God to protect her heart and her innocence.  Again, I took the first opportunity to call her daddy and say, "Prepare yourself!  She is growing up!"

Cupid was at work on Valentine's Day.  Kennedy met me in the hall with a huge smile and a stuffed animal. After asking several questions, I figured out that a third party was involved in the conversation, but that this special guy is officially declared as "boyfriend".  Before the third party got involved in the situation, Mr.XYZ gave Kennedy a gift.  I had to ask what he said when he gave her the stuffed animal.  She looked irritated that I asked but then said, "He just handed it to me and said this is for you.  Happy Valentine's Day."

Mr.XYZ's no nonsense explanation of the gift made me giggle.  It touched a special place in my heart.  About 14 years ago, Chad gave me a gift.  It was a diamond ring.  He opened the box, pushed it toward me and said, "What do ya think?"    

Oh my!  My sweet little 5 pound, 14 ounce baby girl has become a young lady.  It is a bitter sweet time in our lives.  We don't have all the answers to these difficult questions.  However, she does have amazing men in her life, including her Daddy, Pa, Pops, and numerous uncles and friends, to watch and learn what she can expect from a young man.  How many other mothers can look their daughter in the face and honestly say, "I hope you eventually date and marry someone like your father so that you too can experience an amazing marriage"?

Computer is here, but author is MIA

The new computer has arrived.  Actually it came last Friday.  I started this very post on Friday evening promising more frequent updates to the post.  Well, I got frustrated pretty quickly because I was trying to hurry and get to bed for the BIG DAY Saturday.

Saturday we got up and headed out to the BIG DAY.  About 40 miles into the trip, I began to realize that my kinda scratchy throat on Friday night was quickly developing into a terrible cough, back and leg aches, and general misery.  However, it was the BIG DAY, and I couldn't turn back.  I actually contemplated having Chad leave me at some chain restaurant and calling my mom and dad to come and get me to take me home.  However, I was as excited and nervous as the STAR of the day, and I had to be there.

So, naturally, I went.  It was A.M.A.Z.I.N.G. and stressful and ridiculously expensive.  However, the STAR was able to shine like a million bucks.  And, even when she didn't really shine, she thought she did!

After the BIG DAY, the STAR, Daddy, and I went to bed.  Sunday morning, I'm not sure what happened.  Chad and Taylor disappeared and I slept until after 2PM.  I finally crawled out of the bed long enough to shower and find nourishment.  Shortly after that, I was back in the bed. 

Monday was probably one of the most efficient days of my life.  I did not expend one Joule of energy that wasn't absolutely necessary.  Out the door for school by 7AM, back in the recliner to sleep by 7:30.  Out the door to doctor by 11:00 AM, back in the recliner to sleep by 12:30PM.  Out the door to pick girls up by 2:55PM, back in the recliner to sleep by 3:30PM.  My super-wonderful husband even came home early and cooked dinner.

Tuesday I drug myself back to work.  Ask someone who saw me at LC on Tuesday.  People said "Do you feel bad? Are you OK? and Why are you here?" all day long.  I heard, "Dang, if you feel as bad as you look, when's the funeral?"  It was that  bad.

Today I am much better.  However, I'm still not fantastic.  But I promised blogs, and I want to deliver.  So here's your blog.  The problem is that this fancy new computer has Windows 8.  My old computer had Windows -3, I think.  It was before Windows started numbering, I'm sure.  Regardless, I can't figure out how to do a darn thing on this computer.  I finally watched a tutorial video on how to find the start menu and the control panel.  Then, I log on here to update the blog and get side-tracked by my friends blog update.  I clicked on her blog to read about her life, and there is no "back button".  I was stuck.  So after scrolling and tapping and clicking, I accidentally found the back button at the bottom of the screen.  Hang on, there is a point. 

Today's blog is to say I was so excited about this new computer; however, within hours I was too sick to even care that we have a computer.  Now I'm well enough to know and care about the computer, but I'm too dumb to use it!

The big meeting at work is over as of today.  I will learn to use this fancy machine and Bob and The Girls will be updated with the fun stuff from the end of 2012 and the BIG DAY from this week.

I'm an old dog learning new tricks.  Be patient, but don't give up on me.  I will deliver!

Wait, I'm still in 2012

I know it is January 16, 2013.  However, my blog is missing some very exciting and unique blogs from the end of 2012. 

Here's a little history...

December 29-30, 2004, Chad and I learned that Dickerson #2 was on the way.  I know some people are already thinking, "Wow she doesn't even remember the exact date she found out.  She must not realize that there are women all over the world who would give anything to 'find out'".  Stop.  Yes, I do realize it.  And yes, it was amazing, and I did write the date down somewhere.  The point here is that we had recently purchased our current home.  Whoa...back up...we had just begun making payments on our current home that we hope to own sometime before we are too old and disabled to utter the words "we own our home".  Back to the story.  At that point in our lives, we had three bedrooms and one child.  We very affectionately referred to the other bedroom as "the office".  It was awesome.  It had a great closet, filing cabinet, desk, desktop computer, etc.  It essentially was our home office where we did really exciting things like check email and balance our very stretched "first time home buyers and first time to pay daycare" budget each month.  So after recovering from shock, in the early months of 2005 Chad and I began to make preparations for Dickerson #2.  We quickly realized that the room we considered to be the home office was going to become a nursery.  In all the planning and downsizing and making room for baby, we gave up the desktop and purchased a laptop computer.  Pretty exciting, huh?  Well, it was so much fun and excitement that we haven't done it again for 8 years! Yes, my home computer is 8 years old and slower than molasses on a cold morning.  So, I hate to update the blog because the computer is soooo slow and it's difficult to upload pictures, etc. 

Now, there is a point here.  I have ordered a new computer.  It has card readers so that it will be much easier to insert pictures of my fabulously cute, funny kids.  Well, I'll post pictures of the real Dickerson kids who have been known to be fabulously mischievous, funny kids. 

The new computer should be present and working at my house by the end of this month.  Hold on tight because the blog will have much more activity in 2013.