by lcreekmo on December 16, 2009
Yesterday, the 4yo shared this Christmas story with me. I thought you might like it, too.
Mama, did you know Santa was born in Guatemala? Just like me! He lived there before his mama came to pick him up. And then she did, and he lives at the North Pole now.
In fact, I got to visit Santa at the North Pole before you came to pick me up. [Ed. note: Plausible, since he was born in July and came home in March....he had to celebrate that first Christmas somehow, right?] I took the Polar Express to the North Pole and then came back to Guatemala. My foster mom went with me.
Merry Christmas!
by lcreekmo on October 31, 2009
So we have these two stray dogs that hang around our front yard all the time. Absolutely drives me crazy. They are aided and abetted by our tender-hearted neighbor, who leaves water and food out for them. And yet, they snooze the day away in my yard, not hers.
It’s not a big a problem as it could be, since our back yard is fenced and that’s where the kids play. But I do worry that having these stray dogs there will inspire our dog to try to leave the yard whenever we open the gate.
I’ve contemplated calling animal control about them, but these are wily dogs who only appear when animal control is closed. And I am just tender-hearted enough to dislike the idea of sending them to a kill shelter when they are clearly just worn-out old stray dogs who enjoy the shade in our yard. So mostly, I’m just annoyed by them with no real way to resolve the situation.
Today, we drove up into the drive and the 4yo and I had a discussion that offered some alternative ideas.
Me: I’m so annoyed. Look, those dogs are here again.
4yo: I hate them!
Me: Do they bother you too? [Thinking, I am going to have to do something about this. We can't have the 4yo being scared at his own house.]
4yo: Yes. I don’t like them.
Slight pause.
4yo, with the enthusiasm born of a brilliant idea: Maybe we can have Sally fight them! [Sally is our 14yo, very slow, gentle, and passive dog. No aggressive. Just passive.]
Me: I don’t think that’s a good idea somehow.
4yo: I know! We can have those two dogs go chase a CAT! [With such enthusiasm, again, that it was clear the point was to catch and dismember the cat.]
Let me know if you need a new perspective on your situation. We can rent him out.
by lcreekmo on September 8, 2009
The 4yo has a little figurine that’s supposed to be Noah. He came in a set with an ark and some other stuff. He’s elderly and white.
Today, the 4yo brought Noah with us on the ride to school. And he was happily chattering away to Noah in the back of the van, when suddenly I caught a snippet and felt compelled to interrupt.
4yo: “And the parents killed people.”
Me: “WHAT???”
4yo: “I said, the parents killed people.”
Me [racing in my head to think, I can't say parents don't kill people, because sometimes they do. But heaven forbid, does he think that's normal? What the hell am I supposed to say??]: “Well, let’s hope not!” [and thinking, that sounded lame.]
4yo: “God is going to kill them.”
Me: “Now, I know that God does not kill people.”
4yo, in his most exasperated tone: “Mom, it’s just a story.”
He then proceeded with several minutes of what God does and doesn’t like. For the record, God likes mommies, daddies, babies, boys named with the 4yo’s name, trees, ladders and houses. God does NOT like older sisters, motorcycles or steps.
You heard it here first.
by lcreekmo on August 31, 2009
I’ve been thinking about food a lot this summer. If you’ve read this blog very long, you know that I spend a lot of time figuring out how to please a very picky 10yo vegetarian at the table. And perhaps it was the media blitz surrounding Frank Bruni’s new book Born Round: The Secret History of a Full-time Eater
[no, I haven't read the book yet], wherein he talks about his love affair [and tortured relationship] with food — but at any rate, I’ve spent a while considering how much I enjoy food. I love growing it, thinking about it, preparing it and eating it.
I love no holiday more than Thanksgiving — a gathering of family and friends, careful preparations and a groaning table.
And I have been thinking about how this feels like a very positive part of my life, this love of food and sharing it with my friends and family. And I notice that the 10yo — honestly — could care less about food. She eats every day, but much more because she is hungry than because she likes food, per se. She’s a fan of Cheetos like any other 10yo, but her food cravings and desires don’t go far beyond that.
There’s a part of me that can read all that and say, OK, probably a healthy thing. Why on earth would you be concerned about a child who eats when she’s hungry?
I’m not really. But I wonder about what created this love of food in me, and I wonder if there’s a way to consciously share that. I enjoy thinking about how to make better tasting, more nutritious meals for my family. And in this day of instant anything, that seems to me like an enormous gift to them.
by lcreekmo on July 17, 2009
After more than a week of the list being down over the 4th of July, and then the institution of a replacement list on Yahoo, Google saw fit in its infinite wisdom to reinstate the East Nashville list.
So I’ve deleted the Yahoo group, and we’re back in business at the old location:
http://groups.google.com/group/East-Nashville
What I learned:
- Google is not a benevolent dictator. It’s a bit of an oblivious bully. That sounds contradictory, but over the 10 days or so I was dealing with this mess, I saw both clueless and churlish behavior on the part of Google’s representatives. Neither impressed me.
- Apparently there’s a decent chunk of the web-going population out there who believes that Google retaliates against its critics, as well. So if I suddenly stop appearing in Google search results, I guess we’ll all know why. I’m not quite that much of a conspiracy theorist, myself.
- More people than I could hope to personally thank helped spread the word about the list situation. My gratitude to you all!
by lcreekmo on May 3, 2009
Last week was pretty eventful here at Fixin’ Supper. A week ago, the baby decided to show up almost a month early. [No, we have no idea where she got that from. Clearly, even being punctual isn't a habit around here, never mind early. If it's genetic, it's certainly recessive.]
And all that was fine, really — no one likes the last month of pregnancy anyway — until we learned that the double-whammy of showing up more than 3 weeks early and having been exposed to Pitocin during delivery [because my water broke -- they really want the baby out within 12 hours if possible -- so, Pitocin if your contractions aren't moving along fast enough] made her all the more likely to spike a high bilirubin level. Which she did, and then had to spend 24 hours in the phototherapy box, and to date has had at least 6 heel sticks to check her blood level. We’re hoping the last one will be tomorrow morning — and all signs look good on that front.
That just wasn’t enough for us. We like to do things in a big way. So, Friday night, as we were waiting for both our dads to arrive in town, Ashby decided to go and develop a fairly scary allergy to pomegranate seeds.
He’d been wanting to try them again for some time. The 9yo has a friend who brings them to school for lunch fairly often, and we’d just been discussing them at the house — how they were the trendy food, and supposed to be so good for you, and we really needed to try some, etc. Ashby had had some years ago but didn’t quite remember what they were like. So, when he ran by the store recently, he picked some up to try.
All I can say is, thank heavens he didn’t try them one of the two nights he was home alone this week with the 3yo while the baby and I were still at the hospital.
Late Friday afternoon, he sat down and had a few for a snack. Then I had him hold the baby while I was busy with something. I came back in the room a few minutes later, and he mentioned sneezing. Whereupon I snatched the baby out of his hands and said, “I’ve been freaking out about swine flu all week and here YOU are, sneezing on the baby???” So he gets up and says not only that, but now his head feels stuffy and maybe he’ll take a shower. I sent him out of the room with a warning that I was now serious about having him spend the night with his dad in Hopkinsville.
While he was in the shower, he developed a horrifying hacking cough. He emerged not 10 minutes later with his eyes nearly swollen shut.
At which point I hollered for my mother — thank goodness she was here! — and the two of them hopped in the car and headed for an urgent care place. They gave him epinephrine which stopped the reaction, but he didn’t improve. So they hustled him off to Baptist in an ambulance.
Meanwhile, I’m having to get the play-by-play from my mom via cell phone, because Ashby really couldn’t talk at this point. Breathe, just enough. Talk, no.
So, then he got more epinephrine, some steroids, and still didn’t get better. They were going to admit him overnight to the ICU! for more epinephrine and continuous monitoring, but they didn’t have a bed, so he spent the night in the ER. Somewhere in there, his dad arrived to stay with him, my mom came home, and things settled down.
The whole time he was gone, I couldn’t talk to him — first because he couldn’t talk, and then because they didn’t have cell phone reception in the area of the hospital where they were. So, I sat home worrying about him and feeling bad for saying I was going to send him to Hopkinsville for his “cold.”
He came home Saturday morning and seems back to normal now, thank goodness. We’re crossing our fingers for an uneventful week of late-night feedings and the usual chaos, with no additional medical emergencies.
by lcreekmo on April 28, 2009
So I was SO jonesing to get out of here this a.m. I told Ashby like, at least 3 times, what time to show up [he spent the night at home with the 3yo last night] so he would not delay our departure!
He gets here and takes a load of stuff to the car. And we’re waiting, waiting, waiting on the pediatrician. Who finally shows up and says we’re not going anywhere.
Harper [I will spare you the "2-day-old" or in our Fixin' Supper nomenclature, the 2do, abbreviations] has jaundice, which I had kind of noticed late yesterday in the back of my head, but wasn’t really paying a lot of attention to. Seeing as how we have doctors to pay attention to that sort of thing for us.
And I get the idea that he doesn’t think it’s a HUGE deal, but especially because she’s a bit early [born just shy of 37 weeks], it’s perhaps not just a breastfeeding issue [slight jaundice is practically de rigeur for the bf set and no cause for worry], but instead, an immature liver issue. So, right now we are hoping that 24 hours or so under the bright lights [and on top of this cool electric blue light blanket] will take care of things. We’ll know more in the morning — she’ll have another blood draw at 5a on Wednesday. If that looks good, they’ll take her out of the lights for observation [and, I'm sure, another blood draw :( ] to make sure her bilirubin level doesn’t spike back up. If all goes well we can go home tomorrow night, it looks like.
I will say, I am not an emotional person [not even while pregnant! -- though apparently I am bossier while pg], but it takes someone more stoic than I to see her newborn baby with patches over her eyes, half-naked and lying uncomfortably on her back, alone in a plastic case and not shed a tear. It’s the alone part that bothers me so. I am massively grateful for the health of all of my children, and all present indications say this is nothing more than a speed bump for Harper — but newborn babies are made for cuddling 24/7 in my book [actually, if you want "my book" on parenting, you'll be reading Katie Allison Granju's Attachment Parenting and every word that the Sears have written], and her holding my finger through a hole in a plastic wall don’t cut it.
Send us your good thoughts and wishes for going home tomorrow!
by lcreekmo on April 26, 2009
She’s here!!
Harper Corley Barnes
Born 4/26/2009
4:05 p.m.
6 lbs., 9 oz.
19 3/4 inches
by lcreekmo on April 20, 2009
Dear God,
Please make me be not so stupid. Last year I got remarried, and I jokingly said to friends, Now I don’t have to hire a babysitter to go to meetings anymore! But truthfully, that’s a major benefit of being married when you’re a do-gooder, because do-gooders tend to accumulate evening meetings like other people collect pennies.
So, next time I am tempted to say to my sweet, dear husband, “Sure dear, you work late; I’ll take the kids to the meeting with me,” please help me to remember how that is not a good idea with a very active 3yo boy who tends not to take naps anymore.
Love,
Me
by lcreekmo on March 3, 2009
- I am not a neat person — ask anyone who knows me. But I am apparently the only person in my whole house capable of seeing, and reacting appropriately, to dirt. I promise you the other 3 inhabitants of this house could happily live in one of those crazy-people houses piled to the ceiling with newspapers and decades-old dust bunnies. At least I don’t like dirt and clutter and fix them when I see them.
- My until-now precious, compliant and obedient 3yo has turned into a holy terror in the past 2 weeks. He’s been punished [severely] twice for hitting the dog. [The dog, bless her heart, just stands there and looks balefully at him when he does this. My screaming at him how any other dog on the face of the earth would have bitten his face to shreds seems to be making little impact.] He’s gotten a sassy mouth [including calling his father a "stupid dumb-o" last night at dinner] and he willfully ignores all instructions [including important ones like "Stop that right now!"] At this point, I’ve decided that there must be some really poorly behaved kids in his new class at school, because the only other change in his life recently has been to spend more time with me. Let’s just leave that where it lies, mmk? We’re all hoping this is a very short stage.
- Bizarrest pregnancy symptom: My arms fall asleep all the time. While it was bad enough that this happened every single night [have to sleep on my side now, and both top and bottom arms are prone to falling asleep], I am now able to trigger this reaction just by moving my arm in a certain way. It basically feels like I’m hitting my funny bone 25 times a day, and my funny bone runs the entire length of my arm and hand. Good times.
- Metro advertises that the recycling truck runs in our neighborhood on the 1st Tuesday of every month, beginning at 7 a.m. I don’t live anywhere near the recycling operation center. And in 4 years of living in this house, the recycling truck has never reached my house after 6:50 a.m.
