Glimpses of Sunlight

A has been making some great strides in some areas, and not-so-great strides in other areas. But, Hey! It's progress. A turned 6 about a month ago, and now:

A keeps his pants dry most of the time, now. As in, he's only wet maybe once or twice a week now, and he'll pee in the toilet. He very seldom volunteers to go, though, so we have to prompt him hourly to prevent accidents. He wears normal cotton undies at home, we're trying to get him used to them in the hopes that we'll transition to cotton undies all the time, even out in public. Thankfully, we have wood laminate flooring and vinyl flooring throughout a good portion of the downstairs, and the living room carpet is pretty old already and will be coming out soon (we hope) anyway -- so even when accidents happen, cleaning them up at home is no big deal other than the obvious gross factor. It's just something that we do, like washing dishes or vacuuming.

A still does not have a good control on his rectal sphincter, and commonly streaks in his undies (sometimes with a little extra) throughout the day. Pooping in the toilet is a rare event for us, his muscles just can't seem to do the required pushing all the time. Add in some constipation issues, and it's a recipe for all sorts of bathroom fun. And some occasional fun in other rooms, too. And a lot of laundry. I need to buy stock in the Chlorox corporation, I think I supply a good chunk of their annual profits and want some of it back.

Currently A wears night-time pants (normally used for nocturnal bed wetters) at school and at church, just because he does still have accidents if he's not prompted to go EVERY HOUR. This prompting is not always done by others when we're away from home, so we're trying to save A some embarrassment and prevent teasing or disgust from his classmates. Plus, we don't have enough pairs of pants for him to "go through" each day -- he's only got 5 pairs, total, including jeans and athletic pants. It is much easier on the (overworked) staff to change out underwear designed to hold the mess and keep the outside pants clean, than rinse out cotton undies and multiple pairs of jeans at school. And we can't afford for him to have 4 or 5 different pairs of pants for every day at school.

We still have to give verbal prompts every step of the way: A, go to the bathroom please. Pull your pants down and sit down on the toilet. Wipe your bottom (if needed). Put on your underwear, and then put on your pants. (He likes to strip his bottoms completely to use the toilet). Wash your hands.

We can't give him the entire list of prompts at once; he gets "stuck" on the toilet and waits for a verbal command to wipe his butt, or to put his clothes back on. But he's doing it! The butt wiping is something fairly new that we've been trying, and so far it's had mixed results. A doesn't have good hand dexterity or fine motor skills, so holding toilet paper is difficult for him at the necessary angle to get the job done. He also has a tendency to do some fecal smearing on the walls, his legs, or the toilet seat if he gets any on his hands. It's good that he doesn't want the poop on his hands, but we just haven't been able to convince him to finish up and we'll wash our hands when we finish. (Which we always do anyway).

I usually have to clean up the very last traces that he can't see or reach on his bottom, but he does get most of it cleaned up himself. He also has to clean the "brown artwork", if any, off the walls or toilet seat with a disinfectant wipe. (Again, I generally have to go behind him and finish up). It would be much faster if I did it all for him, but he really needs to learn how to clean up after himself -- and how to do it the right way. Even if it takes a while.

A also still needs help fastening buttons and zippers on his pants. It has not been easy for us to find elastic-waisted jeans for a boy that can wear size 7's in length but is skinny enough for a size 6 -- even slims fall off his butt. I know they're out there, we just haven't found any that work for us yet. So, he wears "normal" zip-fly, button at the waist jeans but has to have assistance getting them on and off. Likewise with the zipper on his winter coat, and tying shoelaces.

A has been doing much better with his writing skills -- he brought home a sheet of paper on Monday that quite legibly said, "I like to read books mommy." I think that one will be kept in a special place, it's the first time we've had anything hand-written that was that clear. He spells things all the time with plastic letters on the fridge, or with the computer, but this is actual writing. With a pencil. His behavior at school is better some days, worse others. A does not like transitions, and he does not like taking turns. Everyone is supposed to do everything in the same order, always, and since A was first at the start of the school year, he still expects to be first to do everything. He's getting educated otherwise, but he's giving the teacher and his aide fits while he's learning it.

I have to be careful with the foods I send for A for his school lunches. Everything needs to be easy to open, and ready to eat. I can't send a whole apple, I have to slice it up and core it or he'll eat the entire thing. I have to cut his sandwich in half to make it easier to pick up, and peel oranges and separate the pieces. If there is a banana, I start the peel at the top so he can grab it and finish. None of those reusable containers work for him, A just can't open them; I use the fold-top plastic sandwich baggies. Not the most environmentally-friendly choice, but it's what needs to happen right now. He does have a reusable thermos for his water, with an easy push-button opening lid.

I still have to cut up his food for him, he can't handle cutting with a knife and fork nor can he just use a fork to cut when necessary. He has gotten a lot better with his spoon usage, he spills very little now. A had a problem with dumping the food halfway to his mouth because he didn't know how to hold the utensils without grasping them completely in his fist, and he'd turn the spoon over trying to get it into his mouth. He still has his textural issues with soups and cereal with milk on it -- he absolutely refuses to eat them. I generally drain as much liquid out of soups as I can before giving him his serving and just give him his cereal dry. He also does not like the flavor of mayonnaise, sour cream or cream cheese (unless it's in a cheesecake) and won't eat certain salads if they look white. This includes tuna, chicken, or fruits. He will eat whipped cream, but usually only if you make him take a bite of it and he figures out that he likes it at that point.

Verbally, we are getting more words out of him than ever before. He saw the leftover snow on Saturday (2 inches) and came up to me late in the afternoon and said, "Red. Boots are red. Put on? Put on green coat. Go outside. Play snow?" Thrilling!!!!!

We don't generally get more than two, maybe three words together at a time. This was a whole paragraph! And yes, we all went outside to play in the snow. A can't make snowballs with his hands, so I have to scoop up some snow and help him form them, hand over hand. He does take great delight in dumping the snow on his sister's head while snickering, so there's something that is refreshingly funny.

We can tell that many of A's brain processes are pretty typical, even if he doesn't talk a lot and has some fine motor skill challenges. He's also got a mischievous streak a mile wide. For example, K fell asleep on the couch yesterday afternoon and A walked over there, looked at her, and began tickling her. She cracked one eye open and screeched, to which A responded with a cocky grin and a chortle. He tickled her again, and K threw out a punch that A dodged easily. Then he whalloped her with a throw pillow. At this point, K is getting more and more upset because all she wants to do is take a nap. A and K got into an all-out fight, complete with feet, pillow whomps, and grappling.

Z and I actually stood back and watched it for a minute before splitting the would-be WWE contenders up, just to revel in the weirdness of what would usually be considered the normalcy for siblings. We stood at the doorway so we could duck out of sight and crack up when we needed to. And of course we stepped in when it became apparent that the kicks and pillows were becoming a tad more forceful and the expressions on both kids' faces started becoming more...determined. I didn't want a UFC experience in my living room, so they were quickly sent to opposite ends of the room to cool off.

Another new development is A's radio. Z's parents got a small CD player/radio for A's birthday, and he loves it. I've taught him how to turn it on, and how to push "play". We haven't quite gotten how to change out CDs yet, but that will come. He listens to his radio all the time. This is great! I'm hoping to get him used to headphones, so we can take a walkman or something with us when we're out around a lot of people. (Shoot, do they even MAKE walkmans any more? We'll get whatever the current thingamabob is. I-Pod?) If we've got music, maybe he won't freak out so much at events like, well, going to the mall.

I know a lady with a 12-yr-old son on the spectrum, and this really works well with her son. She's happy because she can go shopping or take the family to the park for Independence Day, and he doesn't freak out as long as they have his music going. They do take a lot of extra batteries, just in case. We're going to give it a try with A, I just have to figure out how to get him used to headphones. And I also have to find some that are durable enough to withstand A ripping them off initially. Forget the earbuds, we just need the old-fashioned on-ear kind.

I don't know if this would work on an airplane? I know you have to turn off certain electronics for take-off and landing, but don't know if an I-pod would be on that list. I haven't flown in years, so some research is in order. Z and I have been discussing vacation times and seeing family, which are spread from CA to TX to GA. We'd have more visiting time and less travel time if we flew rather than drove, but I really don't know how A would react to the noise and being in close confines with a lot of people. That's at least a year out at this point so we've got plenty of time to figure it all out.

Bottom line is, we're making progress every day. The storms are still there, but we're seeing those gorgeous rays of sun break though at the most unexpected times, and we're enjoying getting to know our son every day.

Confessions of a Wuss

Yay!! We got our hot water back yesterday around lunch time, after a week of "camping out"!!

I've never been so glad to be a wuss in my life.

BOTH of the heating elements in the water heater were toast, and when the plumber pulled them out I could have sworn that I was on a National Geographic special. They looked like something that had been under the ocean for years -- rainbow mineral deposits galore, and the metal had actually been eaten away in several places. If I didn't know they were heating elements for my water heater, I'd probably call Jacques Cousteau's grandson in to take a look at it and identify it for me. Yikes! Our water is very mineral-laden here, especially with calcium and limestone. The water heater was put in before the conditioning system was put into place -- so a lot of damage occurred in just a few years.

But we have new elements in there, and nice running hot water that makes showers possible and washing dishes much more easy. It's not that boiling water to wash dishes is difficult (put it on the stove for a few minutes until it boils, then pour into the sink), it's just a lot easier to refresh the dish pan if hot water is available out of the tap. I guess I'm just a modern, spoiled girl.

But never fear! I'm still having pioneer experiences. Learning the ropes with this wood stove hasn't been as hard as I thought, but there is the labor aspect of hauling the wood. We got a delivery of 2 cords of wood on Monday, dumped unceremoniously in our driveway by the garage. The stacked wood pile is through a narrow gate on the other side of a short fence. I was on a time limit to get it all put up: freezing rain was supposed to start around lunchtime on Tuesday. Z's back is shot, so I wanted to get it all done before he was home. I didn't want to create any more pain for him, his 4 hours commute each day (round trip) is already killing him -- and he's stubborn enough to get in there and haul wood anyway. I was DETERMINED to get it all done. And I did.

Oh, I am a foolish mortal.

I had no wagon or wheelbarrow, nor could I get anything rigged up to drag or roll the wood through there, so I did it the old-fashioned way: I hand carried every single piece of wood to their respective piles. Let me just tell you, if you don't know how much wood makes up 2 cords, that it is a lot of wood to have to stack. A single full cord of wood is roughly 8 feet long, by 4 feet deep, by 4 feet high. The delivered pile, in which the logs were sticking out in every direction possible, was taller than I am and longer than it was tall. Of course, I'm not very tall either... We actually received a little more than two cords, I had enough to stack two cords' worth, make new end caps for the second cord's stack, and put some additional wood in the mudroom for a dry, easy morning supply before it was all put away.

Some of the wood was fresher and needed some more time to dry out before we burn it, so that all went on the far pile. The more seasoned stuff went on the closer pile. It took me five pretty much non-stop hours on Monday to move it (until it got too dark to see), and an additional hour on Tuesday morning before the rains came to get it all done. I can only carry a couple of logs at a time (more wuss confession), and this load was not split down very far. Eighteen inches of solid wood can be heavy, especially if it's a fresh tree that is almost as fat as it is long. My word. Those pioneer women all look pretty normal in the old photographs I've seen. If they did this kind of work all the time, you'd figure they'd give Arnold Schwarzenegger a run for his money!

During this process, I frequently thought of my high school language teacher (she taught French, Spanish, and German but threw in a smattering of Italian and Russian just because). Mrs. Van E was from Switzerland, but moved to this country when she was 15 or 16 years old. She only knew two phrases in English when she arrived, and they both apply here: "Oh, my aching back!" and "Son of a -----!"

MORE wuss confession: I don't care for mice. Oh, they're cute, and I couldn't physically send one to that great cheese wheel in the sky, but I don't like them in my house. We had no real issues with them last year (except for that one oddball discovery last June), but we also kept the grass pretty short around the house. This year, the tenants apparently cut the grass only a couple of times the entire summer -- which just happened to be a pretty cool, wet summer. Tall grass all the way up to the house + a hole up by the roof = mouse trouble.

After hearing the cute, fuzzy little disease-spreaders scampering about in the eaves and overhead on the acoustic tile ceilings, Z put some D-Con way back in one of the eaves (out of reach of kids and dogs). Our mice are smart little boogers and know how to trip conventional mousetraps without getting caught. I have not discovered any nibbled items in the pantry as of yet, but we figured we'd take preventative measures.

We have since learned that the D-Con does indeed work: we found one dead mouse behind the woodstove, and recently discovered another one in my son's room. In the ceiling. I had smelled something funky in there a few days ago, but thought it was just his socks and shoes (boy's got some strong foot odor -- and has since he was just a little baby). Fast-forward a few days, and it's definitely not his shoes. Or his bed, no accidents there. Or the carpet. I finally figured out that the stench was coming from the ceiling or the walls. I have to admit, I was relieved to discover that even using the little step ladder I have, I was still too short to see up in the ceiling and had to let my husband do it. Darn!

So -- two knowns disposed of; I think there's another one in a wall somewhere, though, because the smell is starting to get stronger and there aren't any more in the ceiling that we can see. I thought D-Con had something in it to prevent bad smells from dead critters? That may just be my imagination, though.

Eschk. I'd almost rather deal with scampering than this smell, but what's done is done.

Running Hot Water is for Wusses

Well, not really. But saying that makes me feel better.

Our hot water heater died sometime between 11:30 Tuesday night (when I got my shower) and 4:15 Wednesday morning, when my husband got up and tried to take a shower before work. There's nothing quite like freezing water pulled up from a well to wake you up quickly. There's also nothing quite like freezing water pulled up from a well to make your husband yip in a really funny manner.

I have come to the conclusion that difficult things can sometimes seem less...epic...if one has a full belly. Or if one ingests a lot of chocolate. Sometimes both. So, after downing some breakfast (only!), I was a good hot water heater owner and read the handy dandy instruction manual that came with the water heater, and did all the trouble-shooting suggestions listed on the page. (By the way, did you know that each month you're apparently supposed to release a few gallons of water out of the top "pressure relief valve", and also drain a few quarts from the bottom if you have very hard water to keep sediment from building up in the tank? I sure didn't.)

After fiddling with the breakers, hitting the "reset" button, and checking both temperature settings (our heater has two), I called the manufacturer who suggested I do the same things I'd already done. Then they said to call a repair person, because this is going to take some work -- they can ship parts to me via 3-day mail once we determine what's going on, but also that there is a good chance that it will need to be replaced. It was at this point that the chocolate came into play. This model apparently has been known to "tank" after the warranty has expired, but before 10 years is up. Yeah, I know. "Tank". I went there. Our water heater was installed January of 2004.

We'll find out more hopefully tomorrow, after we get paid and get someone out here to look at the darned thing.

In the meantime, I'm (semi) pioneering it. We have the benefit of running water, at least, so no hiking down to the "crik" that's a mile away and hauling it back. The water pumped out of our ground seems to be a direct line from, oh, Siberia, so we have to heat it on the cooking stove or the woodstove before attempting some mundane housekeeping. I have figured out that:

Dishes take 3 boiling tea kettles of water plus some cold from the well, one kettle per side of the sink and the third split between the two to "refresh" the heat halfway through the job. And you have to get those dishes done pretty quickly.

Baths require boiling a tea kettle, a 4-qt dutch oven, and a gigantazoid 30(?)-quart stock pot full of boiling water for a nice, warm bath -- plus a little cold well water to temper it. Not hot, but at least warm enough to get the job done. Beats the alternative, which is shivering hard enough to knock the soap off the ledge while trying to grab it. Just sayin'.

And yeah, I do it the old-fashioned way of plunking one kiddo in the tub, giving them a quick scrub, and then plunking the next one in right afterward. Probably not a good practice to do long-term because of germies, but it gets the job done temporarily. I can't reheat water right away because the arctic tundra water coming straight out of the faucet will warp the hot pans if I don't let the pans cool down first, and then I have to warm the water to room temperature. I can't put the pots straight onto the heat after filling them for the same reason -- not even the cast iron.

This is all a little weird, but I'm finding my rhythm with it (this is water heaterless day #2) and it's really not that hard. I do have an appreciation for all those pioneer ladies that did this day in and day out, though. It takes some serious timing to get everything done in a day! At least I don't have to do laundry this way; I always use cold water in my machine anyway.

So, we're kind of roughing it. With electricity and running water. Heh. It is actually interesting, as long as it's a short-term issue. I'm remembering all my Little House on the Prairie books, and other historical books from the Early American period, and am fascinated by this. Again, temporarily.

I do love me a hot shower.

Pioneeringly yours,
~ J

Endearing

My husband is an awesome daddy. He just spent the last four days off of work, and took a lot of time to just be silly with the kids.

He could have holed up in the office with the computer, which he likes to do sometimes. He could have holed up in a room with his guitar and written some music, which he also likes to do sometimes. If he had his hunter's license this year, he could have been out looking for Bambi. Instead, he chilled with the urchins the entire holiday weekend. And they ate it up, of course. K is a real "Daddy's Girl".

He chased them around the house (usually with one or both dogs leaping around and through them), tickled them until they couldn't breathe, and made up goofy songs just to see them laugh and hear K go, "Daaaadddyyyy!!"

He dragged out the Christmas tree and put it up, per K's request, on Friday and put it together. He even fluffed the branches, a task he generally hates to do because it's tedious. But he did it, because K looked at him with those puppy dog eyes she can get, and she helped him. A watched that process for a few minutes, and then went to grab a book to snuggle in on the couch.

He read books to both kids, let K help him stoke the fire (while mommy about had a heart attack -- there's FLAMES in there, honey!), and threw popcorn up in the air so the dogs could catch it and make the kids laugh.

There is something in me that just melts when I see my man willing to wear dress-up hats and a bead necklace while K prances around in her fairy wings, a crown, and sneakers; or getting down on the floor to play with A's cars or characters from Toy Story. Warm, fuzzy, endearment.

Love it. And Him.

I shall now scoop my mushy puddle-of-goo self off the keyboard and get about today's tasks.

As soon as I solidify again.

This ends the sappy portion of the day; tomorrow's forecast should be drier. Thank You.

December Projects

We had a lovely Thanksgiving! It was nice to have Z home for four days, the kiddos absolutely ate it up. It was a loud four days! At one point when my head was pounding and my eyesight was starting to shimmer, I told K, "You know you don't have to scream and shriek while you're playing, right?" She stopped abruptly and looked at me, puzzled. "But mommy....yes, I do!" Ol' Santa needs to bring me a year's supply of ear plugs, or at least a supply that will last until K learns what an "inside voice" is. We're working on it.

At K's request, our Christmas tree is already up...I was planning to wait until the first weekend in December, but I looked into my 3-yr-old's beseeching eyes on Friday and folded like lawn furniture. (Actually, her dad was in on the caving, too, so I had company). Whatever, she won't be three forever. The tree does look rather nice and festive, complete with colorful clumps where the kids hung their own ornaments. Why space them out when you can hang six on one branch, right?

So...the tree is done, but there are still some things I'd like to do this month. I figure if I list them here where other people can see (some of whom visit my house), I'll be more motivated to actually get them done.

December list, 2009:
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1) Finish decorating house. I have to find new homes for my Christmas decor, mostly because I don't like to do the same thing two years in a row, but also because I don't have a lot of the furniture that I used to (got rid of a lot moving twice in 6 months) so flat surfaces are few this year. We put up extra strings of lights in the kids' rooms, and A and K are soooo much fun to watch when we turn them on. Childlike wonder and awe are so breathtakingly beautiful to see, especially when they're your own urchins.

2) Figure out the "sweet spots" with the woodstove's flue damper and air intake. See the previous post.

3) Create a December Daily album, like this one. I like the idea of jotting down a little something of each day until Christmas, starting December first, and pair it with a picture or two. There is no way I have time to sit down every day to complete that day's section, though, so what I'll probably do is take a picture every day and write down something in a notebook, and get to the project later after the holidays are over. For me, this will probably be, like, June. I like the eclectic, collage style of this particular project and look forward to coming up with my own unique ways to create pages out of unusual materials (envelopes, part of a partially eaten winter hat (thanks dogs), etc). And it's a neat way to look back at that year's holiday since I know my kiddos won't be little forever.

4) Take time to enjoy the season, and chill. I don't typically get caught up in the hectic busy-ness that seems to plague a lot of people this time of year. That isn't to say that I don't stress over some things, perfectionist wench that I am, but we don't host Christmas parties at our house (A doesn't handle large noisy crowds well), we live too far away from family to have their presence a regular occurance (last year was the exception, we had family from both sides stay with us) and we don't gear up for mall warfare and commando shopping 1) because we like to keep it simple, 2) again, A can't handle crowds like that, and 3) because we don't have the funds to do so anyway.

This is not to disparage those that engage in those activities, I love parties, and I love shopping. The Lord knows if we had funding I'd be getting something for everyone I know, I always see things for other people on the rare occasion I actually enter that shrine to shopping, the mall. The thrill of the hunt! The adrenaline rush of having something new! The sound of the cash register ri-- Confession time: OK, so, I'm not a shopaholic, but I can see myself doing that easily, given the opportunity. God? Please??

I do have a tendency to get caught up in the minutia of daily life, though, and really do need to just relax sometimes.

5) Try something(s) new for Christmas dinner. We always do the things traditional to our family backgrounds: turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, etc. The menu for Thanksgiving and Christmas are actually identical most years, and I want to change that this year. Shake things up. It doesn't have to be flamboyant or fancy, it can be a simple thing -- but I do want it to be a special addition because Christmas is a celebration. I don't know if that means making a different dessert than pumpkin pie (I'm thinking either my great-great-aunt's coconut pie or a pear-cherry crumble), or if I need to shake up the side dishes a bit. Turnip gratin? Corn souffle? I've got nearly a month to figure that out. So I guess that means I should start now so it's done by Christmas.

6) Keeping tidy. For those of you that know me and have been to my house, you know that I have clung to a certain Victorian ideal in the past. Victorian homes were clean, but they had clutter. Many families passed down houses full of furniture and knickknacks for generations -- and each generation added its own knick knacks to make the home "theirs". More is more, right? Packrats of the world, unite! And all that. So, in an unprecedented assault on my treasures (do I really need this? Have I used it in the last year? Five years?) I've killed (most of) the clutter, although the mail does tend to congregate by the front door. The usual dumping ground is on the rolling dishwasher, the flat surface that's the closest. There's usually one day during the week when I do a double-take at the pile...I swear, sometimes I think the mail reproduces on my dishwasher. Most unsanitary. I have heard the "handle once" philosophy, wherein you get the mail out of the mailbox, immediately throw out the junk mail, and sort the bills to be paid. *snort* That hasn't worked out in my favor, yet, but I'll keep trying.

But I digress. We are clean, for the most part (a pair of my son's socks discovered under the bed recently notwithstanding), just largely untidy. I tend to pick up an item to put it away, go into the next room, see something else that needs done, drift into yet another room. By the end of the day, I haven't sat down except to eat, but nothing is actually completed. I have tried the "basket technique", where you gather everything that doesn't belong in a room and tote it all at once to the next room, but the basket fills up in each subsequent room and it never quite gets emptied. My three-year-old loves to help me, so it takes a bit longer. More than twice as long. It's good that she's learning to be a good steward of her stuff, but there are some days my patience stretches thin. That's usually when my husband arrives home, the house is in shambles, and I get the urge for a drink (even though I don't do that any more).

A Domestic Goddess, I ain't. I really do feel awkward about the chaos in my home, and want to get a handle on it. Somewhere, there is a book (possibly more than one) that states something to the effect of, it takes a month to build a habit. I'd really like to batten down the hatches, ready arms, rattle the spears, and [insert battle phrase here] this month in an effort to beat this. That way, if someone shows up unexpectedly, Blitzkrieg cleaning of the few random toys is so much easier to achieve and I don't stress out. In theory.
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So, that's this year's list. Not overly ambitious, but it will take work nevertheless. And it's now posted in cyberspace for the two people who read this to see, so now I have to do it. Right?

The Great Woodstove Adventure

As the saying goes, 'Where there's smoke, there's a fire!"

Let me regale you with The Great Woodstove Adventure:

We got all the remaining parts and tools in on Wednesday before Thanksgiving, and my pyromaniac hubby decided that he simply HAD to put it all together and get it working after church that night...of course he did...so he started messing with it while I got some preliminary Thanksgiving cooking out of the way: cranberry sauce, biscuits and cornbread to go in the dressing, jello salad, etc. I try to do some of the baking, like pies and fresh sweet potatoes, the night before to make the next day just a smidgen less hectic. It makes it much easier to get the other dishes ready to slide into the oven as soon as the bird comes out if I don't have to juggle pies or components of the finished dishes (like the cornbread) too.

I could hear the scraping of the pipe as it was put together and drilling sounds emanating from the living room while I puttered around the kitchen for a couple of hours. I decided that I was tired and poked my head in the living room before heading upstairs. My dear husband, with a gleeful expression, was still intently working on getting everything lined up with the chimney. He was so cute, he looked like a little boy with a new toy. In retrospect, this observation may not be so far off...what's that saying? "The only difference between men and boys is the price of their toys?" Something like that.

So, my husband was still tinkering with the thing when I went to bed around 11:45 p.m., only to be awakened about 20 minutes later to the unfamiliar, insistent screeching of the upstairs smoke alarm and a terrible chemical smell. I turned on my bedside lamp and saw that my room was full of smoke, yelped (yes, I yelped), and in my still-half-asleep state was poised to dash across the hall, snatch my daughter out of her room, and do something dramatic like dive through the second-story window, letting my body cushion her fall -- when my husband ran by the foot of the stairs and yelled that everything was OK, there was no fire in the house it was just the stovepipe. Just the stovepipe? How was metal on fire? What?

I blinked a couple of times, just to wake up fully, coughed, and made my way down the (smoky) stairs to find out what in tarnation was going on. The issue was a simple one, apparently, but us being woodstove newbies didn't know all the subtle nuances of the art of the woodstove. Or, apparently, its pipes. It would seem that brand new stovepipe has a coating on it that is supposed to come off, yes, but my hubby (did I mention that he's a pyro?) built the hottest fire he could (of course he did) and as a result, ALL of the stovepipe coating came off...at once. And because it was external coating, all that smoke and fumes had no way to get out through the chimney, so it filled the house instead.

I will say, that stove puts off some heat! We had the front door wide open, letting the 36 degree air (and windchill in the 20's) pour in -- and our thermostat (located on the wall at the foot of the stairs by the door) still read 79 degrees. A few stragetically placed fans and open windows later, our house was smoke- and stench-free. My husband decided he was sleeping on the couch, just to keep an eye on things and make sure nothing bad happened. His choice, mind, I don't make my husband sleep on the couch if I'm upset with him -- and I wasn't really upset with him, just exasperated and wondering why this couldn't have waited for daylight the next day...but what was done was done and there was no use getting mad if I'd wanted to.

*cough*

So, it's up and running, really isn't that difficult to use, and heats our house better than the oil furnace-driven central heat did! The downstairs heated nicely with the central heat, but the vents upstairs were always anemic and our room was always freezing. Plus, we never raised the thermostat above 64ish in the winter just to keep the costs down (we were spending about $3,000 on heat last year).

Not any more! Thanks to the woodstove, the whole house stays between 71 and 74, upstairs stays about 69. That little woodstove heats the upstairs better than the "superior" central heating system did! Now we just have to figure out the best positions for the draft and air intake, to let it burn as long as it can overnight.

The only hassle with the thing is that it tends to burn down after about 3 or 4 hours. This is no biggie during the day, I just chuck a log on there every couple of hours or so...but we have to stoke the fire and rebuild it if we get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. This is easy if there are a lot of hot coals, it takes like 5 minutes to get a roaring fire again and is no big deal. My Girl Scout camping trips are paying off. But. It's frustrating if there aren't any coals to speak of, it's 3:00 in the morning, and you have to coax a new fire to start from scratch and the tinder refuses to stay lit, so you don't get back to bed for a half-hour. Like this morning.

Since we're still new to the whole process, we are just going to have to learn the idiosyncracies of this particular stove to get it right, and hopefully we won't have any more evil glaring at the stove in the wee hours of the morning.

Here's to a new adventure! May we stay warm and toasty without becoming crispy critters. Laura Ingalls Wilder could do it, so I should be able to do it, right?

A Thankful Heart

I must confess, I've had kind of a rough time over the last few days.

God has this unique way of putting things into perspective.

After my last post, regarding all the things I'd like to fix up in our home, I had to help create a presentation for my husband, to be shown this week at church during the Youth Takeover Sunday. This presentation shows photos of times when it's hard to understand where God is in the situation (even though we know He's everywhere), and includes pictures of houses burning to the ground, our troops in the Middle East with fallen soldiers, street children in the Phillipines, and starving children in Africa. The message one of our college-aged students will be giving is titled, "Our God, His Love".

I had to comb through the photos to make sure they weren't too graphic because we will have 5-yr-olds present when they're being shown on the screen. By the time I was done gathering the requested images, I felt like I'd been through a wringer on an old-fashioned washing machine. One particular image (that could not be used for this presentation) is still indelibly burned into my brain. I won't share the link, but the gist is starving people will eat anything, even if it means holding onto the back of a living animal to get it. And then my husband came home from work early for a doctor's appointment and brought me McDonald's for lunch. I choked on it while I was trying to eat it, and then had to go upstairs for a good bawling session. For the next two days every time I saw a cow, I'd start tearing up again. And I live out in the country, so you can just imagine. I know that if my human heart was breaking over the world situations, then God's heart must be so much exponentially more pained.

I think we Americans are so unbelievably blessed, and we've been spoiled to the point that we take a lot of things for granted. Even the poorest and homeless here in this country have it better than a lot of people that live in other countries around the world.

I have seen images like these before, and know the situations, and we do what we can to support relief efforts. They always touch my heart and make me upset that I can't just go to their countries, pack them all in my suitcase, and bring them home with me. We don't always have a lot of extra ourselves and have felt leanness from time to time, but we still also know that we have so much more than a lot of others around the world. And we're grateful for it.

I think the reason that this time has hit me so particularly hard is that my husband and I have been discussing adopting another child. So to see all these children in these conditions, after having recent discussions about adopting one to take it out of that type of situation, really made hamburger out of my heart. If we want more children, adopting is the way to go, and while we realize that there are a lot of children that need families here in our country, we also realize that the American kids -- even those who are in poverty by American standards -- are so much better off than a lot of international kids are.

I have some issues in the birthing department; we have lost several babies due to miscarriages, and I almost died the first time and had severe complications the second time I actually carried our two living kids to full term. A friend recently asked if I was pregnant again, to which I responded, "NO! I'd be crying if I was." Not because I'd be upset to have another kid at this point, but because I do have a habit of losing them and/or have the chance to die if I'm pregnant and I just really don't want to/can't go through that any more. I admire people who are foster parents, but I know that I could never do it -- to keep a child for a short time and give them up again would tear me up every time I had to do it, very probably because I have lost a few of our own. So....adoption, at some future point.

Through all this, I also feel deeply ashamed for feeling frustrated with our house, which by any other country's standards would be considered fabulous. Perspective, perspective.

We are still going to be doing the eventual renovations to the home, and we will still be working on adopting at least one more child (we have to do some of the renovations before we can even think about more kids, though). I also know that we are blessed to live where we are, with the provisions we have -- and to deny receiving those blessings isn't right, either. While I am always thankful for the blessings we are given, I think perhaps that these last few days will provide a more lasting...reminder for me. It is good to have a reminder every now and then, lest we become complacent or spoiled. Like I apparently have become, without realizing it.

This week is our Thanksgiving celebration. What are YOU thankful for?

House Overview

We purchased this home, 1) because it was the only thing in our price range that let us have a home with a yard for the kids and dog, now dogs (our other option was an area of downtown that was not desirable from a safety perspective), 2) because it was very close to the church and community that we are actively involved in, and 3) because it was a fixer-upper and we like a challenge.

Good thing! Because we're challenged now. I have actually dithered over whether or not to do a post like this. I don't want to sound like we're complaining, and I know the written word does not have the same communicative punch that a one-on-one conversation complete with facial expressions has. Quite simply, working on this house will probably be a very large part of our lives for a very long time so I'm going to share what we'll be working on. This blog will, in addition to following A's challenges, also follow our home improvement saga -- if for nothing else then to have something that indicates progress, for those occasions when I want to dash my head against a wall, in tears over the frustration of living in drywall dust, paint spills, and cooking over a hot plate while we re-do the kitchen...whenever that happens. I don't know anyone who has attempted a renovation (large or small) that hasn't wanted to cry or choke something at some point in the process. I'm sure people exist whose renovations went perfectly, but I don't know any of them.

This home has beautiful potential, and we really do love it. The view across the street of the mountains is stellar, we have just over 1/2 acre of land that I can hopefully garden on soon, with room leftover for kids and dogs to play. The bones of the house are good, although there are a few minor cosmetic issues that we thought were just that: cosmetic. We love the space inside, if not the exact layout, and it keeps the rain out. We have been so blessed living here, the kids love the backyard (as do our dogs). It is located conveniently to pretty much any amenity we could wish for, within 10 minutes. This includes our church, friends' houses, movie theatres, the grocery store, and parks and fishing holes. There are some things that we have noticed, though...

In our last year and a half, we have discovered that: we blow through a nearly 300-gallon tank of heating oil in a month -- keeping the temp at 65 degrees or lower. This was confounding to say the least; we could understand if we were trying to simulate the Sahara, but 65 degrees? Z and I couldn't figure out why it was so cold all the time when we were burning through that much heating oil, and then so darned hot once summertime came and soon discovered the reason.

We never did get that second load of insulation, and we can't fit any of it in at the top of the stairs because of the way the wooden beamwork is over the metal acoustic tile grid -- much of our heat still goes right on up and out the roof. We do have the R-19 stuff over the bedrooms, though, which helps a lot. We have discovered that using electric space heaters, we can effectively heat individual rooms OK. The mommy in me cringes to leave one on in either of my kids' (OK, they're still my babies) rooms overnight, though, and we only have two heaters. We usually put one on each floor of the house, and then I cook or bake during the day, adding heat from the kitchen.

This is why the acquisition of a woodstove is such an enormous blessing! We have calculated, based on neighbors' wood consumptions, that we can heat the house the entire winter for a total cost of $330 in logs, give or take a few (and adding the cost of getting the woodstove and accessories needed like stovepipe, etc). $330 sure beats the heck out of over $3,000, especially with our cash flow these days! I know it's "inconvenient", but I'll deal with the ash and constant reloading; besides which, humans have been doing this for thousands of years so I figure I can handle it. Plus, bonus: if the power goes out, we still have heat and I can cook on top of the thing. We won't have running water, but we'll stay warm and be fed while we stink from a lack of showering. : )

We have also discovered that: all the electricity in the house is "slaved" off other appliances and outlets in the room, sometimes multiple rooms. For example, we can not run the overhead light in the living room if the ceiling fan in the kitchen is on. And my son's closet light can only be turned on IF the overhead room light is in the "on" position and you unscrew its bulb before you screw in the closet light to turn it on. The reverse is also true. Also, if you run the microwave in the kitchen off of two particular outlets and the television is on in the living room, you'll blow the fuse. Our electric wiring and box have inspection stickers slapped all over it but no inspector number or name...someone did a "Harry Homejob" (as Z and I are starting to call these things) and got a roll of stickers somehow. As the inspector said, though, "It's not unsafe...just not practical". So, we don't have to deal with potentially lethal consequences, just fuse-blowing irritation. So at some point, you will be regaled with rewiring stories. Yes, "stories", because undoubtedly there will be more than one.

Moving on to the ceilings: the acoustic tile ceilings in a metal grid are purely a cosmetic dislike. Do they stop the room at the top of the walls? Yes. Do they look like the playing field for some sort of space-aged game, or hopelessly outdated relics of the 1960's? Yes to both. So at some point, likely after we get the wiring done, we'll tackle putting up real, live drywall on the ceilings. Of the non-popcorn variety.

We'd also really like to raise the ceiling height upstairs, because my 6'+ (some days he's an inch taller than others, depends on his back) can walk through the doorways with a mere inch or two to spare. All of the upstairs ceilings are between 6' and 6'5". This doesn't particularly bother me, because I'm only 5'4", but it is a little weird to see your otherwise "normally heighthed" (is that a real word?)husband look like the giant from Gulliver's Travels when he enters a room. And he unconsciously ducks through most of the doorways, even though he clears the frame by an inch or so.

All the walls currently end at the upstairs ceiling (natch), so we'll have to completely redo all the walls while we're raising the ceiling to avoid an odd one and a half foot gap if we do standard 8' ceilings.

And while we're tearing down the walls, we'll have to shore up the flooring. We have that lovely "vintage roll" effect right now -- meaning that you can go uphill both ways crossing my daughter's room. The peak is in the middle of the room, so at least it's symmetrical. Apparently in 1960, they had different standards of how far apart your support beams could be, as compared to today's much closer requirements. And we're finding particle board and other, shall we say, inexpensive materials used throughout the house. We're betting on finding more under the carpet, which we haven't had the heart to rip out yet. Mostly because we can't afford to replace it yet. And we're scared to see what's underneath.

Speaking of carpet, our tenants had rabbits and cats who, for all appearances, seemed to have had some directionally challenged issues with regards to litterbox location. Most especially in my daughter's room. Our dog did not decorate in this manner while we lived here before, and the previous owners had no pets (and they're the ones who installed the carpet), so logically the smell must be from the tenants' critters. That all needs some replacing, too, because both of my dogs all of a sudden feel the urge to...ah, relieve their urge in that room since our return from TX. We'll let you know what we find when we replace it all. That will likely have a posting all its own.

Drywall will need to be replaced throughout the house, as we have some...dents...and other places where the seams are not quite lined up right. We're not sure if our tenants were slam-dancing or what, but there are quite a few spots that need a little attention at some point. They're not outright holes, so this is wayyyy down on the repair list.

Paint is easy, we've already managed to cover over the Play-Doh blue color bequeathed to us by our tenants, although that took us until about 3 weeks ago to accomplish. Of course, the tenants had to deal with my fire-engine red hallway, so tit for tat I suppose. (It's now brown).

Bathroom ~ is functional. We do have 2 sinks that sit on top of white laminate cabinetry. Whoever installed the cabinets didn't measure very well because there is a huge gap between the back wall and the cabinets, and several inches of open space in the corner, and the doors won't hang quite right. Just for aesthetic reasons, we'd like to have something a little more ... together. Also, it looks like someone bought a home kit shower replacement dealie and had some interesting caulk technique. Again, cosmetic. The bathroom, as mentioned above, is fully functional so we really don't have anything to complain about. At least we have one, right?

Kitchen -- well. The cabinets hold the dishes, so their function is fine. I do have three different colors of wood, and two different door styles going on, which I'd like to simplify to one color and one style if possible. I could just reface them, probably, the only exception being the section between the refrigerator and the stove. Despite multiple bleach treatments, we have a mold problem under there that just won't go away. I'd take pictures, but it ain't pretty; you could film a horror flick under there without much additional cost for set construction. And if you could find actors small enough to fit in the cabinet. Heh. The kitchen is pretty much all cosmetic issues so it's also way down on the priority list. I use the top of the (rolling) dishwasher or our table to prep food on so I have my "work triangle" going on. For an interesting story about the dishwasher, go here.

The countertops are faux marble in a dark hunter green, and none of them are actually attached to the cabinets underneath. The floor coordinates nicely with peel-and-stick vinyl tiles, also in dark green "marble" -- but the tiles aren't lined up too well and the finish has worn off over time. Again, purely cosmetic; just not my color preference. Still work just fine, and I actually feel a little rotten mentioning it. The floor doesn't have to shine, even if the Mop'N'Glo bottle says it will.

We have a very unfinished addition that someone put on one side of the house, with a concrete subfloor. It works as a kind of "mudroom", a place to unlock the door without getting drowned when it rains, and where we currently are storing cardboard boxes, the recycling bins, and firewood. The walls need finishing because you can see outside between the boards, and the roof is too flat and needs a higher pitch (per the house inspector). The roof does leak, and raising the angle is supposed to fix this issue. We'd love to turn it into a screen porch or even a dining room in the distant future, because we don't have either right now.

Our garage...has a very nice concrete floor, holds two vehicles, and has a work area to one side. The fake brick asbestos siding is coming off, and we're not entirely sure what to do with that. I know asbestos is bad stuff, but not much beyond that, so we have some research to do.

Most recently (and of course having both the highest cost and necessity) is our septic system. We don't have one. What was listed on the deed of the house as a septic system is, in fact, a big concrete pit three feet from our house with a slit in one side. And the rock and clay in the ground just won't hold any more...stuff...after 50 years.

To put in a new (real) system, we have to move it out at least 10 feet from the house. Which puts it too close to our well, which we'll have to subsequently move. We can't put the septic or the well in the side yard, because that will be too close to our neighbors' well. After several visits from the county health department, our ONLY option is to take off the front part of the driveway and install a system in a 10 x 15 spot, using a new biometric system -- and provided they can blast a hole big enough through the rocky ridge we sit on. This ridge goes up into New York and down into the Carolinas. This will be potentially cheaper because it means we don't have to move our existing well, but will also be more expensive than a regular septic system, which could normally be installed for around $5K in these here parts. There's always the possibility that we'll have to move the well anyway, and that's where it gets expensive -- $30K for the whole job is a conservative estimate given by the inspector.

We're not entirely sure how we're going to do this; we're already not taking A to outside OT and speech appointments because we can't afford to, even with insurance. We are barely keeping our heads above water as it is, so this is most unwelcome news. Blessedly, the county is giving us some time to correct the problem and isn't making us get it done NEXT WEEK. We're hoping maybe by spring time to a)win the lottery we don't play, b) have a miracle happen and it fix itself somehow, or c)be able to get a loan to cover it, which is unlikely at this point.

Anyone looking to off-load a year's salary? Just checking.

Compounding all of these issues is my husband's back issues. Z has the back of a 70-yr old man even though he just turned 29. If his time in the Army had not come to the end of his enlistment, he would have had a medical discharge. He can't handle a lot of the DIY stuff we'd intended to do, and neither can I due to a bum hip from a car accident a few years ago.

So, this will be an interesting saga indeed! I am interested to see how things develop, chiefly because it's my house, but also from a detached scientific point of view. This is our Mad Scientist experiment. Let the fun begin! And I promise to share most, if not all, of the gory details.

Ketchup

OK....the long promised catch-up posting is about to commence!

There are so many things that have happened to us since July, it will probably take a few subsequent postings to really flesh things out.

In a (really big, colossal) nutshell:

We moved back from TX to MD, made the trip in TWO DAYS -- in two vehicles (one of which was a small moving van), with two kids and two dogs. Perhaps it was for the best that I didn't have a computer in August; it took me until September to be able to hold a rational line of thinking again! ; )

Z went back to TX; I unpacked the house and got A enrolled in school, got busy with our local church. Our church family helped us unload the truck in a half hour! Plus, some delightful ladies helped us scrub the house out to get the cigarette smoke glaze off our walls, and get some of the unusual odor out. Those lovely acoustic ceiling tiles absorb all sorts of things, not just water from leaky roofs -- but some sprays with hospital grade Odoban did help. **now that we've been heating the house for fall, some smells are coming out again, so we'll have to find a new tactic to deal with it. The church also got our pantry started, the last item of which I used last week! (I love me some Italian cooking, but I can't do 15 boxes of spaghetti all at once -- my thighs need me to space it out some!)

I have been having some weird nerve and muscle issues flaring up in the last year or so, and have been undergoing lots of fun tests while the doctor tries to figure out what in tarnation is going on. Most confusing is the come-and-go nature of the symptoms, a few of which range from extreme fatigue, severe headaches on the left side, electric shocks and numbness, to shaky "Jell-o" muscles that don't want to work. Some days everything's normal, others it's not. They did do an MRI of my ol' noggin back a month and a half ago, proof that I actually do have a brain for those that might wonder, but it was inconclusive other than there is brain matter in the right place. Which is good! That means I likely don't have MS, and I don't have a brain tumor -- which were the two main options that they were looking for.

Z threw what he could into his car and drove up by himself at the beginning of September when the fatigue was at its height. Everything else got chucked into a storage unit in TX. Which we will get some of....at some point. Because Z left so quickly, items that we had intended to sell or give away (shelves, computer desk, etc) wound up being chucked into the storage unit along with my antique theatre seats, our trunk full of games, and the mirror to my dresser. So that will have to be sorted through, whenever we get a chance to get back down there...hopefully in the next couple of years at the rate life keeps happening. I lament, but I realize that it is just "stuff" -- nothing that is essential for life to go on. If we never get it, again, it's just -- STUFF. I might shed a tear over my new winter boots I got for Christmas last year, though -- warmest things my sensitive, formerly frost-bitten toes ever snuggled in.

On the Toilet Bowl drama: K (finally) decided that she's going to be a big girl and just started using the toilet voluntarily one day a little over a couple of weeks ago. I rarely have to prompt her, and she's only had three accidents in as many weeks (two of which were overnight).

And there was great rejoicing in the land.

What makes this the biggest "D'Oh!" moment is why she decided it was time. Z and I have been making all sorts of statements for the last few months to the tune of "you're a big girl now, it's time to start using the toilet like a big girl...diapers are for babies, you're three!" Money is, like it is for most of you right now, a tight commodity for us and we simply can't afford to keep purchasing plastic/vinyl pants to cover her cotton undies as they wear out, nor are disposable ones financially feasible. A couple of weeks ago, we told her again, "you have to start peeing and pooping in the toilet like a big girl." She looked at me for a moment, cocked her head to the side, and said, "OK, mommy!"

And that was it -- she's done it ever since. And stayed dry and clean through 99% of the time. Thrilling, but frustrating all at the same time. Why hadn't that ever worked before? I guess she just had to be ready on her own time to really do it.

*sigh* Stubborn li'l thang. She comes by it honestly, though.

As far as A goes, with prompting he will keep cotton undies dry about 90% of the time now, and that's what he predominantly wears when he's at home. We do still have to put disposables on him when he goes to school or out in public for the protection qualities...A has enough challenges that peeing through his pants in front of the class would really not help things. We're still working on the #2 aspect, so to speak. A has really crappy muscle control (pun intended) and tends to "streak" constantly. Makes for a lot of laundry, but we're getting there....average age for children with autism to be potty-trained is 5 1/2, and A just turned 6 last week, so we're at least close to being on target.

A is having some difficulties in kindergarten this year. Z and I aren't really sure what is going on, because he usually loves school, but he has been severely disruptive and keeps getting yanked out of the classroom. He is smart enough to do the academic work, he is just refusing to do so or take the tests. Frustrating for his teacher, who knows he can do it but is having to fail him for not completing the tests required by the county for assessment purposes, and frustrating for Z and I who don't know how to "light a far" (spelling intended) under the boy's britches. His teacher has made wonderful concessions to the curriculum to match A's IEP (individualized education plan), and I am having some mommy guilt over my son's behavior because Miss M really is going above and beyond the call of duty for our kid.

A is very smart; he taught himself to read (he refused to let me read to him starting about age 2). A can read at least one grade level up if not two. He does love Dr. Seuss, but is also reading Spongebob Squarepants books that are rated for at least 7 years and up. I really don't care what he's reading as long as he enjoys it and is doing so (and as long as the content is appropriate -- no underwear catalogs of course!). Our hope is that he will be able to use the computer to communicate, since he can also spell random words and routinely does so with the refrigerator magnets. (Not just "cat", but things like "dreamworks" and "guitar").

So imagine our frustration when the teacher tells us that he won't read for the test, won't indicate letter sounds or anything else -- until later, when he'll rattle them all off and smile at his teacher. After the testing period is over.

A is having behavioral issues, as I briefly alluded to above. Lots of screaming, tantrums, throwing things, and waving his fist in the air...also a lot of noisy chatter and refusal to quiet down during work time. Z and I are trying to figure out exactly what our options are, because this isn't working right now.

Oh; and our septic system finally died. As in, spilled into our yard, died. More on this later, when we figure out how in the world we're going to get it fixed -- let's just say that what was on the deed to the house ain't what we got in the back yard. And the county health inspectors feel sorry for us. If anyone has an extra, oh, $30K lying around not doing anything useful, feel free to send it my way. We'd appreciate it; I'll even let you use the toilet first after the new system is installed! ; )

On the upside -- (yes, here's the Little Susie Sunshine portion of the post) -- we are tremendously blessed. Blessed to be back "home", blessed to have good friends and good family. And each other. Blessed to look out the front window at the mountains, enjoying the leaves as they changed in all their fall finery. Blessed that we are all fairly healthy, my weirdness aside. Blessed that my daughter still has her creativity and will wear a ballerina dress, a camouflage baseball cap, striped shoes (courtesy of Michele S) and two different colored socks, three necklaces, and a Hello Kitty wristwatch -- to the bus stop, while carrying a stuffed cat. Now, that is self-confidence! I hope she never loses it. Blessed that we have a brick hearth and a 1-yr old black woodstove in perfect condition at a total cost of $230. Blessed that I have a dear friend who convinces me to buy things like pretty shoes (which are killer, both in appearance and wearability).

Photo posts coming soon....as soon as I figure out how to rig the camera to extract them. The door that covers the batteries split in half a couple of months ago, and I have to press it together with a surprising amount of force on that spot to even turn the camera on -- it's affecting the metal contacts on the batteries; it won't work on the dock and we can't remove the memory. So we're getting our MacGyver on. Hopefully we'll have some results soon.

Speaking of MacGyver, if I don't address it soon, remind me to tell you about how my husband attached our video camera to a broomstick with painters tape (yes, that would be the papery, easily torn blue stuff) and shoved it through the wall of the house into the flue of the chimney. I about had a heart attack.

Another idea rattling around the cranium is adding a cooking section to the blog, or creating a new site for that -- I love to cook, if I'm not making family recipes I make up my own for everything from cookies to pasta sauces, and I do most of it from scratch (less preservatives, tastes better, and it's cheaper). I have a friend that wants me to show her how to make some things, too, which might be fun to chronicle. I frequently check out blogs like The Pioneer Woman and Smitten Kitchen and realize that I am nowhere near their leagues -- but still think it might be fun. My only hang-up is I don't know where some of the family recipes came from, and I have no idea what the legal ramifications of posting something like that are. My own stuff is just that, but as for anything else...I want to give credit where credit is due. Lemme know what you think, and if you have any name ideas for such a venture. You guys are every bit as creative (usually more so) than I am.

Ciao!

Oy...nck.

Flu, flu, gotta swine flu
Gotta swine flu --
How 'bout you?

I wish I could blame that bit of nattering on drugs of some sort, but alas I'm not even on cough syrup at the moment. Sleep deprivation, though, is a definite possibility.

The last hold-out in our household finally succumbed to whatever had been ailing Z, then me, then her big brother for the last few weeks. Miss K was fine when she woke up from her nap on Weds, and a half hour later BAM!! 102.8 degree fever. Which climbed up to 103.7 before the ibuprofen kicked in...we had just gotten paid, so we were able to take Miss K to the doctor (a luxury her brother and I did not have -- Daddy had his appointment and meds nearly a week before A started feeling crappy, and we just didn't have it to take A in at that point...Z's actually at his follow-up appointment right now so we'll know for sure what he was dealing with).

But we DO know what K has. Congratulations! K has H1N1, a fever we've been trying to keep under 104 (104.2 is the highest so far), and some rather pricey medicine. It was a long night last night. We have been hit so hard here in this area there is no more liquid TamiFlu available in a large radius around us, so I have to take adult capsules, mix the contents in a specific amount of liquid (apple juice), and then only give a portion of that to K, discarding the rest. (In our county, 99% of all flu and cold-like issues are actually H1N1, according to our county's health department which is tracking things like mad, especially in the elementary schools). K's been doing much better today, hovering around the 101 degree mark, although she's napping at the moment and I haven't checked her in about an hour or so.

Her congestion is actually concerning us more than the fever at this point...she sounds like she's swallowed mud and is breathing through it. So, prayers over the next few days are appreciated, K is taking this much worse than any of the rest of us did. T'anks.

There really will be a "Ketchup" post soon...but it may be another week, depending on how K is doing.

Greetings!

Just to let you all know, I have just gotten a computer that I can use to update the ol' blog.

It's been, what, two months?

Don't have time to do much more than say "I'm still here!"

More to come. Soon...probably Monday.

But I'm back! And there's lots to update you on -- our 1800-mile trek back to MD; A's kindergarten experiences; the play-doh blue our tenants painted our living room, among other interesting discoveries in the house...

Soon.

Sorry, Wrong Number

We have discovered why we hadn't heard back from the hospital about Z's manogram yet: they put the wrong prefix on the phone number. Our area code for his cell is 240; the local area code is 254. The lady taking down the information was either on autopilot or thought Z had mispoken, so the phone number they had was not correct.

After two weeks of playing phone tag with the hospital and his PCM, we finally heard from the surgeon late yesterday.

Results:
There is a tumor present, but it does not have the resonance signature of a cancerous tumor.

Now we have to wait until Monday to find out what they plan to do with it.

BUT this is Great! Fabulous! Terrific! news.

Other news that's making our collective heads spin: we are moving back to Maryland, in two weeks. Due to some unexpected events involving our tenants, we are going back home to take possession of our house and eliminate paying for two places at the same time. Our tenants were supposed to be in the Maryland house until the end of next March, when they were going to be purchasing it. We were not planning to renew their lease. After discovering they would be unable to purchase the house, they gave us their thirty days' notice to be out on the first of August. They have a large family and finding suitable living quarters can be a challenge for them, so when they found something they jumped on it.

Our house is in no condition to get a new tenant at this time, so back to Maryland we go. We have actually gotten phone calls from two different people -- one neighbor, one friend from church -- in the last week expressing some concerns about our property. We're not entirely certain what we're about to walk into. Our lease in TX runs out in September, so at least that part is easy. Z will have to stay in TX until work can move him up here, though, so he may be sleeping on couches for a while.

Initially it was looking like he'd be in TX until March of next year, but an opening has occurred in the D.C. area and hopefully Z will slide into it by the end of September so we can be a family again. Z will continue working with the church here until he leaves.

We have accomplished what we came to Texas to do as far as getting the new church started, we have done all we can do at this point. Any future progress is out of our hands; it's up to the people who say they want this church to get rolling. Ball's in their court to do what needs to be done.

It's still surreal and such short notice, but luckily I can pack things in my sleep. This makes move #21 for me (in 32 years) and #26 for my husband. Guess our military brat pedigrees (and six years as a military wife) come in handy once again, right? There is still the "freak out" element present, though. I do that really well, too.

Our kids are actually excited to be heading back up there. A gets a little grin on his face when we mention moving back to Maryland, and K flat out shrieked with joy the first time we told her. Now she asks multiple times daily if we're "going to Maryland today?"

We are hoping beyond hope that we will land in one place and just stay there for a while. Contrary to popular belief, we do not actually enjoy moving. We moved twice in Maryland -- once to a home closer to Z's work, because he was getting up at 3:45 in the morning and getting home close to 9 p.m. and by moving closer he could sleep in until 5:00 and get home around 7 -- more family and sleep time. Then we moved a couple of years after that because we'd bought a house; Z was getting out of the military and we were planning on staying put for a long time.

We said when we bought the house that we were there unless God Himself moved us. Famous last words, she said, as the H family drove to Texas a year later...

Sooo -- now we're coming back, hopefully for good this time. Both Z and I really love western Maryland, from the people we have befriended to the gorgeous scenery. At the risk of sounding like a complete freak, the land out there just has a beautiful, peaceful spirit about it, whether you're at the river or up hiking through the mountains. Maryland feels like home. It's the first place either Z or I have felt that way about, in all of our moving around.

And, hey! Maybe I can have that garden and chooks yet. I think the chickens will have to wait at least a year, though, until we can get everything squared away with the house. I suspect that repainting will be on "the list"; we're hoping drywall repair and replacement flooring are not on "the list".

If we can swing it, one of the things we'd like to do in late fall would be to take down the "office tile" ceilings and put up good ol' drywall ceilings. That will make a tremendous difference in our abilities to insulate and soundproof, because the ceiling tiles we currently have are rated at about a 2 to a 4 as far as R-value goes, and it's not so easy to put in insulation over a ceiling with a bunch of cracks and holes in it.

It will also look about a thousand times better, which will do wonders for my mood. Amazing how aesthetics can do that. I'm not a fancy schmancy person, but I would like things to at least have a nice finished look. Some of the tiles have holes in them, and whoever installed them didn't put the frame in straight, so we have a crooked grid all over our ceiling with views of the roof around the edges of some of the tiles. It's just enough off to irritate me. Functional, yes, but not energy efficient, and they're ugh - lee.

My husband believes that every house needs an ugly something, if for nothing else then as a conversation piece. Perhaps we'll leave the genuine circa 1960's scalloped wooden cornice in the living room for him...that way I can update the kitchen and ceilings and still have an ugly thing for Z. Or maybe not.

Dog Days

We are in the dog days of summer -- we've had over 30 days of temperatures 100 degrees or higher this year. That does not include the days that it is, say, a balmy 98 degrees with a heat index of 109; those simply don't count. Who does that counting stuff anyway? By my book, those heat indices should count.

We have only had a couple of days dipping below the 100 mark since June 1st, but you really can feel a difference when it does. Hopefully the tease the weatherman threw us about Friday and Saturday will actually happen: highs 97 to 99 with a chance of thunderstorms. I sure hope so; we're so dry we've been pretty much under a constant burn ban for our county, and our air conditioning system running full blast only keeps it between 85 and 90 inside, depending on the external temperature. It also freezes up a couple of times every day, and we have to switch it to "fan" for a while to melt all the ice -- about 10 minutes generally does it -- before turning the air conditioner setting back on.

A is in ESY summer school through the middle of next week. It's hot enough that if his bus is only 4 minutes late, it's enough to exhaust you. Luckily the bus is air conditioned, so A is just fine once he's on board. He's loving school and is actually doing the work now that his teacher has learned what he's capable of, and A has learned that his teacher isn't a pushover.

K has sprouted like a weed and is actually fitting into 3T clothing comfortably; when we arrived here in March, she turned three but was still wearing 24 month clothing. We're thrilled she's catching up to others in her age group, but are having to alter our clothing schedule of hand-me-downs and reassess her needs for this fall. (Based on her past growth times we figured it would take until at least November to even keep the 3's up on her butt, but she's surprised us all. And she's tall and thin, not a chunk at all).

In other news, there is a disturbing practice in this town that, while it's present in a lot of places in the United States, is made exponentially worse here where there are a lot of military moves. What I'm referring to is animal dumping. People find out they're moving across the country or out of the country, take the collar off their animals, and boot them out the front door to fend for themselves.

I was so angry when I came back home from my walk this morning -- I'd seen yet another dog, a yellow lab this time, that was so thin you could see every one of its ribs and vertebrae wandering the streets looking for shade and water. If you call the local animal authorities, you get a wearied response that they'll canvas the area sometime in the new few days and try to pick them up. They get so many calls and don't have the staff to keep up with it all. We also have rabies and other diseases running rampant due to the large feral animal population, too, so I didn't dare approach the poor beast.

We are now taking care of a black lab that showed up at our house about a month ago in a similar situation. She had no collar, and despite calling around, asking neighbors, and posting a notice in the paper we have had no "hits". She was never quite skin and bones, but she has filled out nicely since her time with us. So sweet, puts up with all K's attentions, and is well trained. We didn't even get a leash for her until last week, on Saturday, because she stays at your knee when you walk and will stop when you do. If she wanders all you have to do is pat your leg or say, "Come", and she's instantly back.

She does not bark at people coming to the door or other dogs outside our fence either, which is strange but really great at the same time. She is an awesome dog, someone lost a really good one. The only possible issue that we've discovered is she loves to dig -- especially in my big tub that houses my zucchini plant. She gets along fantastically well with our male Siberian Husky -- once she set him straight that chicks don't like guys all up in their junk all the time.

When we took the collar and leash out of the store bag on Saturday, her butt hit the floor and her tail started wagging so hard it looked like she'd wag it clear off. She is so happy to have a collar, and I think she knows that she has a family again. I took her for a walk on the leash for the first time Monday morning and she was so excited when I pulled it out she was jumping up and down and wriggling her entire body. She pranced along past all the fenced dogs on our route with her head high and her tail out behind her all pretty, smiling the whole time.

Z and I ran through every dog's name we could think of (and made up a few out of desperation) just to see if she'd answer to something. All of our attempts were dismal failures. We asked the kids what they'd like to name her, to include them in the process because we can't just keep calling her "dog". A's contributions were "black dog" and "water". K came up with the dog's name, mostly because she most emphatically refuses to call her anything else. Our new pooch now has the most unlikely moniker of, "Princess". Smart dog, it only took her 2 days to start answering to it.

So, "Princess" is now sporting a lovely red collar and a tag with her name and our phone numbers engraved on it, and has a red leash to match.

As far as we can tell, she has never been fixed; neither has Mischa. Z and I were contemplating this the other day and are wondering just what any puppies would look like if they occurred between a male Siberian Husky and a female Labrador Retriever. The pups would likely be uglier than homemade sin, but have fabulous personalities. My mother suggested that we could call any offspring "Labrarians".

....yeah....

That tidbit of family knowledge probably gives you all some valuable insight into why I am the way I am.

Wii UnFit

Sooooo.....we have a new Wii Fit in our household.

Thanks to a car wreck a little over 3 years ago and 4 abdominal surgeries in the last 5 years, two of which sliced me vertically from navel all the way down -- let's just say that my activity level hasn't been what it used to be, my right hip does NOT have a great range of motion, and my belly has far too much motion. Walking and subsisting on salads only does so much, so here goes a try at something else.

Initial impressions: the board thing is actually pretty sensitive, and I hate how it measures your BMI. Even if it's probably true. Ahem. Even if it is true... The Wii Fit actually picked up on the differences between my balance on my right and left sides, though, consistently through the different exercises.

Using the Wii Fit is actually pretty fun to do, but due to range of motion limitations I have discovered a difficulty with some activities, like the yoga "tree" pose where I have to raise the right leg (left is fine), and some of the balance games like the skiing. I overcompensate to the left, where I put most of my weight. My right side is now a couple of inches higher permanently due to the aforementioned wreck, so that makes sense. Makes walking and running interesting sometimes depending on the terrain...the more level it is, the better I am at maintaining balance. Hiking up mountains at this point is probably not the best idea because I will trip all over myself and innocent bystanders.

Who knows? Maybe this will help with what the months upon months of physical therapy didn't, or at least maintain what range of motion I've got remaining on the right side. At least it's fun, and my daughter tries to do the things standing next to me on the floor -- so not only will that keep her out of trouble, but she'll burn off some of that dadgum energy too.

Here's to a new venture!

Taking it Easy

A started his summer school on Monday last week. He has a new teacher for the month-long summer session, and is slacking big time. I had to send a note in to his teacher to let him know that he could read quite well, and write some things too. A doesn't like to do the writing much because it's difficult for him, but we're getting there.

When he's motivated, he has started to write things down to tell us. For example, the other day when it was 105 actual temperature, with a heat index of 112, A went up to his sister's coloring tablet and wrote "hot", got his dad's attention, and pointed to it. We're thrilled and are hoping that his developing writing and reading skills will open a window to some communication that has been nonexistent up to this point. He routinely writes his first and last names using pencils without the pencil grip. We've graduated! Woo hoo! He also spells things using the letter magnets on the side of the fridge.

In other news, he's a bean pole. Tall and skinny boy, he can wear 6/7's if only we could find a belt small enough to keep them on his butt. Lengthwise it's no problem. He just turned 5 1/2.

School is only a half day in the summer, so A is enjoying playing with his sister both in the house and in our little inflatable pool that resides just off the back porch. A absolutely loves the water and will go completely underwater with no issues, strange given some of his sensory issues. K is also a little fish and likes to hold her breath and walk on her hands from one end of the ten-foot pool to the other. I also watch her like a hawk.

My birthday was yesterday, so I got a couple of gift cards to go purchase some veggies and flowers and plant them after all. It's probably too late, but we'll give it a whirl. This part of Texas has a long growing season, so we'll see what happens. I have a container garden in the back yard consisting of a single tomato plant, two bell peppers, and some herbs including cilantro (which I could bathe in), sweet basil (which I could also bathe in), flat leaf Italian parsley, and some rosemary. I also bought some flowers for the front neglected bed.

My husband gave me a beautiful gift last night of digging up the whole thing. It would appear that nothing has ever been planted in the bed since the house was built 7 years ago, judging from the depth of the grass roots and the rock-hard quality of the soil. Bless his heart, I think that's the most expensive gift he's ever given me. It comes at a cost; Z has 3 slipped disks and 2 ruptured ones that he just lives with. The doctor won't do surgery for him yet because of his degenerative back disease -- once he starts with the surgery, he'll have to have it every 5 years or so for the rest of his life, and they want to prolong the initial surgery as long as possible.

Z just smiled at me when I ran out the front door last night. I didn't realize he was out there until he'd done the entire thing, and he said that he was going to keep doing things as long as he could. It will hurt regardless, so he's just going to do what he can do. *sigh* I love him to pieces, but it makes me cry when he does stuff like this.

Today we had a beautiful, glorious, wonderful cold front move through and instead of the 104 we had yesterday, we had highs in the 70's most of the day until this evening when it creeped up into the lower 80's. Yeeeeeesssss. I planted the entire front bed this afternoon. Then started a light, gentle rain -- perfect for the new babies in their new home. I hit the "clearance section" at the nursery and have 9 zinnias in a range of colors, an orange and red Pride of Barbados, 4 red salvia, 2 white-blooming sage, 4 brown-eyed susans, 2 purple coneflowers, 23 dark red gladiolus, 3 landscape gerbera daisies in "watermelon, pineapple, and coconut", and 3 day lilies in a deep wine color with yellow throats. And I also scored a huge red geranium in a pot that is now gracing my front porch. Wheeeee! I'm looking for some of those trailing petunias for a couple of hanging baskets, but am having a difficult time finding any this year. Two stores have had ZERO available since we got here; I'm wondering if there's some sort of disaster in the petunia industry or something this year.

My kids helped to decorate my cake yesterday. Z made a chocolate cake from scratch and then let the kids go to town using their choice of decorations. And they did go to town. I had a truly one-of-a-kind creation: broken up Oreo cookies; sugar nonpareil Santa Claus heads leftover from a Christmas cupcake project; coconut; and red and green sugar sprinkles were dumped liberally across the entire surface. I thought I'd need an insulin shot from just looking at it. And I'm not diabetic.

But it was good, and the kiddos were thrilled with it and had a ball putting everything on there. And all was right with the world.

Another odd bit of news that's relieving in a way: Z's growing mass in his chest has tripled in size since last week. This means there is a huge probability it's got liquid in it and it's a cyst, rather than something tumorous and nasty -- which is infinitely relieving in its own way. We still don't know what it is, won't until next week sometime, but at least there's a really good chance it's not an ugly kind of cancer.

Manogram

Unusual situations have a way of showing up in our household; it's almost like we're a lightning rod for medical weirdness. Here's yet another instance:

My husband had a nodular fascitis three years ago that had attached itself to tendons, muscle fibers, etc on his left forearm. By the time we'd waded through all the necessary red tape and insurance paperwork to actually get it removed, it was turning from "normal" to something more sinister. What was supposed to have been a 30 to 45 minute procedure, start to finish, turned into a 4 1/2 hour ordeal due to all the adhesions.

He's been "cyst free" for the last three years...only now something has (literally) popped up. Or, I should say, three somethings.

The noticeable one is under his right nipple, close to a lymph node. It simply wasn't there last Friday; by Sunday Z was noticing a distention and it was painful. Now, you can see it if you look at his bare chest. Well, at least, I can and the doctors can. Z doesn't generally run around shirtless, even though it's 105 degrees so far today. It is definitely a firm lump, and still painful. The doctor found two more rather suspicious lumps in his abdomen during the physical exam. Z has lost 14 pounds after getting out of the Army, despite no exercise whatsoever and eating all manner of stuff he couldn't get away with while he was still in the service, another point for concern.

Long story short, Z has an appointment at the hospital on Monday, July 6th in the Women's Clinic so he can get a mammogram and ultrasounds done. He's taking the news pretty well, and it doesn't really bother him or threaten his manhood any. He will follow up with a surgeon and could be having surgery as soon as a few days after his visit to the Women's Clinic. He's taking it all in stride. So why am I the one who wants to cry?

Z's doctor is a Christian, which is nice, and he was very blunt and to the point. He looked Z straight in the eye following his exam and said that we needed to pray that this goes away as quickly as it has shown up. And then he explained about male breast cancer statistics, which is apparently 1 out of every 100 cases. I had no idea, all I generally hear about is women's breast cancer issues.

So -- I guess I said all that to say this: please send up some prayers for my husband and his doctors, that this whole situation gets taken care of pronto and without lasting effects and NO CANCER.

Thanks. *sigh*

Lord, if you're testing us, what is it we're not getting? Or are we "getting it" and being used as examples somehow, or so we can help others in similar circumstances? I wish we knew, instead of floundering through all this stuff blindly sometimes. We don't feel completely rudderless, we know we are inexorably drawn by You through whatever our life situation is. And our faith remains firm, is strengthened even. But it would be nice to know the light at the end of the tunnel is not, in fact, a train in this instance. Amen.

The Simple Life

This great web called "Life" is a strange warren of paths that cross at random junctures and lead to various far-flung possibilities; take any of them, and you'll definitely learn something new about yourself and surprise yourself, or confirm what you always knew. But maneuvering down those paths, and taking the odd jaunt down a different direction is the adventure -- you don't always know what lays at the end of it, even if you think you do. Funny how sometimes our desires after living a few years can be the polar opposite of what you thought you'd want when you were a kid.

I went to high school in Alaska at a tiny little blip on the map, thanks to my dad's military service. I hated the isolation, despite the beautiful scenery. I went to college at a larger (relatively speaking) blip in west Tennessee, still with a population well under 10,000 at that time and where they pretty much rolled up the sidewalks after 5 p.m. The closest town of any size was 30 to 45 minutes away, depending on exactly where you were wanting to go. The new SuperWalMart was 45 minutes away, in case you were wondering; that was the epitome of a "good time" for a lot of us, meeting at the WalMart at odd hours while shopping for various staples of college existence: paper, Ramen noodles, and caffeinated beverages. It about drove me nuts.

I yearned for the excitement, the bustle, the thousand given possibilities of each moment that the city seemed to promise, at any hour I chose to explore them. Not just any city. THE City, New York City, mecca of arts, melting pot of cultures and wonderful strange foods, and home to alligators in the sewer and the occasional scary experience in the subway. I was going to savor every second, soak it all up in my bones until I couldn't draw any more in. And I was going to be an actress by night, living it up and struggling to eke out an existence like the other million actors and actresses trolling the streets and shops by day as waiters or clerks. I didn't figure on reaching Broadway, if ever, without some more years in studying and experience, but off Broadway was just fine with me. I'm afraid my father had visions of me living in an alley somewhere with cats for company, so I think he was relieved that I never did quite make it there.

Somehow, I stayed put in the small community after college, went to work at a bank for a while, and then snared a job as an arts administrator for another town in a different county. I wanted to pay off my student loans before attempting to move to notoriously expensive New York. A noble goal intially, but then things started to change.

I started to appreciate the slower pace, the people who had all the time in the world to get things done so they could stop and chat at the local grocery store, or on the sidewalk on Main Street. I wound up getting married to a guy who was going into the military, had kids pretty much immediately, and have moved 5 times in the last 6 years.

Now? Don't laugh. I yearn for a simple country life. Sounds hokey, but I'd love nothing more than to live in an old farm house, raise an enormous garden while I'm raising my kids, and throw a couple or three chooks in the mix for eggs. I'm fascinated by the old wood cookstoves like my grandmother and her grandmother used. Despite the fact that I'd be busy from sunrise until sundown doing various things associated with rural living, I know that time flows differently in the country. It's more satisfying to me, somehow, to have spent a day outside working on something I can physically see the results of, and something that I actually enjoy, than to push papers in an indoor office with nary a glimpse of the sun.

I don't want pigs, or horses; if I wanted a cow or goats for milk, I'd really have to think about that. They eat a lot, need a lot of work and attention and I don't know that I'd have the patience to handle that and pick critters off my veggies at the same time. Or the patience needed to keep the livestock out of the garden altogether.

So, yeah. Far cry from aspirations of starring in a show off Broadway in the Big Apple. I actually went to L.A. to audition for Les Miserables after I graduated from college, that was how serious I was about pursuing a career in theatre and moving to New York. (I didn't make it past the second round, chiefly because although I'd had scads of experience by then I was not yet an equity card holder).

But the simpler life is more soothing to my soul, I think. The only stipulation for this sort of life is a necessary sabbatical to a huge metro area a couple of times a year, one to enjoy some cultural offerings not found in the hinterland, and two to remind me of exactly why I chose to live in the sticks in the first place.

For now, this is still a pipe dream; we live smack in the middle of a subdivision that was built up here in Texas about 7 years ago. We are crammed against neighbors that we can't see because of the privacy fences, and there are no trees to be seen. I also can't garden in this house because we're renting and the owners don't want me digging up the back yard or putting in raised beds. My alternate plan Q (yes, it got that far) was to have a container garden -- but again, life happened, and I have a few pots but no dirt or plants to nurture to fruition. And it's the end of June, a bit late for summer plantings and too blasted hot for shorter growing season crops. The high today was supposed to be 104, and 103 tomorrow. We're having a cold front move through over the weekend; highs are only supposed to be 100 each day.

I have to admit that I still get a twinge when I think of Maryland summers. They got hot some days, but nothing like this, for as long. I also wince when I think of all the beautiful compost that I've had going for about a year now, and the fact that I can't do a thing with it.

But.

We're here, doing what we're supposed to be doing. And that's okay. "Life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans" and all that jazz. One day, I might just get that house and garden...unless I change my mind in another 15 years. : )