Today I am thankful for . . .

1.  FM#3, who used to fight me every step of the way into the Y and had to be literally peeled off my leg at times, went into the Y saying “I have lots of friends at my Y.”

2.  My Beloved had an email sent around to upper management (including the president of the company) saying what a great job he was doing in leading the team on a project and how because of his ideas, they were going to save lots of money.  At the end of the email, he was instructed to take out the wife and kids to dinner at a nice restaurant and then submit the bill for reimbursement by the company.  But shhhh, because the kids aren’t coming. 😉

3.  Our car insurance premiums went down over 50%.  They went down because an accident on my Beloved’s record was old enough to roll off.  Now the accident wasn’t his fault and he never got ticketed and we were overpaying these past 3 years but I’m going to overlook that for now while I appeal getting our money back.

4.  I am almost completely caught up on the laundry because FM#1, bless his sweet little maturing heart, came to me last week and said that he thought he should do the laundry to take the burden off of me.  So right now, we are working as a team so I can teach him what to do and are making our way through the piles.

5.  FM#3 slept through the night last night.  He apparently is being terrorized by the Baby Einstein goat puppet in Baby Van Gogh in his dreams.   According to him, the dragon puppet from Baby Shakespeare and the goat puppet are both mad at him and talk to him in his dreams.  Oh, and he’s seen the Spiderman movies (remember he’s kid #4 — we have no standards anymore) and he’s okay with that.  It’s just the Baby Einstein videos that bring about nightmares. 😮

There was something else earlier today that I was really happy about but I have no brain left, so I have no idea what that might be.

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We have a new dog . . .

he’s four and has red hair and no, it’s not an Irish Setter.  And if he sounds a lot like FM#3, it’s because he is!  For about 2 weeks now, FM#3 has been a dog.  He sits, he fetches, he heels, he pants, he barks and yes, he licks.  It first started every afternoon.   We would get home from our errands or activities and he would strip himself of his clothes and get down on all fours.  Now it’s going on almost all day long.  He crawls around for the rest of the day with his knees off the ground which makes him a bit higher in the rear end than most dogs.  Questions are answered with barks and calling him by his given name is met with a “No, I’m . . .” whatever the dog name of the day is.  He also loves to sit at your feet and be petted on his head or crawl into your lap and be stroked.  It’s pretty entertaining but I’m sure the fetching thing is not so good for his teeth . . .

Whereby I win “Worst mother of the year” before the 1st month is even over

I’ve been really busy and thus not blogging.  Now, I’m really behind in laundry and in an effort to avoid that task, I think a blog post is in order. BWG  But, I digress.

Yes, I think I’ve officially won “worst mother of the year” and it wasn’t something that happened at the grocery store, even though circumstances required me to take all of them the other day.  On Saturday.  I know many of you were looking forward to the event when alerted.  You’re sick, you know — and you know who you are.

No, this actually happened last weekend.  The day before the DP’s birthday.  First a little background where I’ll try to not get too graphic.  FM#3 is 4.  He is also still in pull ups.  Given that a year ago, he was almost completely non-verbal, I put the potty training task off.  Now that he is talking up a storm, we’ve been working on the thing.  And making progress.  Until he turned 4.  Now, he’s regressed.  I think I missed the window of opportunity and he may actually be the child the pediatricians say doesn’t exist.  He may actually go off to college in diapers.  This is my fear.  I try to not let him see me shake when I think about it. 🙂

FM#3 is also a big water drinker.  Water, water, water.  All day long.  With the inevitable results.  So, since he’s not interested in taking care of business, I decided to lessen the output so to speak.   I didn’t cut off liquids but decreased them quite a bit.  Mealtime and one drink in between.  I thought it reasonable.  His body did not.  7pm last Saturday night, he let us know that things were not right.  I called the pediatrician’s office, hoping for a prescription.  When they called back an hour later, we were instructed to take him to an urgent care facility.  Now there are probably things I would like to do less than take a fussy, in pain, child to an urgent care facility on Saturday night when it’s pass his bedtime.  But, for the life of me, I can’t figure out what those things are.

So, instead of following their advice, I called a friend who is a urologist (actually my urulogist and a homeschool mom, to boot) who was nice enough to call in a prescription for the little guy.  And unlike most doctors, she called it in as soon as I hung up the phone with her.  And I was able to give it to him an hour later.  And he was well enough to go to church the next morning.

And harass her kid. 😀

My friend is the greatest doctor ever.  And I don’t say that because she helped me out in a bind.  I say that because I referred another friend to her and my friend, the doctor, saw something suspicious on the CAT scan.  Something that had nothing to do with her specialty and told my other friend to go see another doctor.  Right away.  And now my doctor friend may have just saved the life of my other friend.  As you might imagine, my other friend is a bit impressed and very grateful.

And I’m still the worst mother of the year.

Happy Birthday to the DP

Today is the DP’s 7th birthday.  She’s already had 2 cupcakes.  Her precious Sunday School teacher brought cupcakes for everyone in class to help celebrate and then we got sent home with the leftovers.   Since the DP is the oldest in her class, there are about to be lots of celebrations.  Technically, she’s not supposed to be in her class.  The 1st grade at our church is made up of about 40 kids and divides somewhat evenly at February 1st, so that is how they split the classes up.  So the DP is supposed to be in FM#2’s class.  But last year, when we were at the well check up for the girlie girl and FM#2 answered every single question the doctor asked the DP, the doctor asked if there was anytime they were apart.  No, not really was my answer.  And so I asked for her to switch Sunday School classes.  A couple of weeks later, she was talking up a storm in her class.  I started getting all sorts of questions about our lives from her teachers and I began to wonder if someone had snuck into our house and switched daughters on me.  😉  Tonight is the celebration with the grandparents.  Basically, it’s just one long party day.

And 4 years ago today, about this time, we found out that FM#3 was going to be coming into our lives in a couple of days.  His birthday was last Sunday.  He turned 4 which we’ve repeatedly coached him on but he keeps asking me “What eezz ittt?” when people ask him old he is now.  I didn’t blog about it because, well,  he’s the 4th kid.  He gets overlooked at bit at times.  I was the 4th kid.  I understand his fate.  I don’t have the heart to tell him that it’s not going to get much better.  

Also we’ve been busy.  As you can see, the Christmas tree is still up on my blog.  Well, the Christmas tree is still up at our house.  I’ve suggested to my husband how convenient it would be to just leave it up until next year.  I’m joking people.  Sort of.    I have lots of blog posts in my mind.  I just need to type them up.  Daily, the list of potential posts grows, so daily I get more behind.  As my Beloved says, it’s never for a lack of material that I don’t post. 😀

This’ll make you get out your hankies

My Beloved went back to work today after a week and a half off.  FM#3 has been asking for him all day.  About midday, in the car, I turned off the story we were listening to and told the kids to be quiet because I needed to call Daddy.  FM#3 said, “e’s i ero.”  Since I now understand his language a bit more, I thought I knew what he said but I wanted to check.  “What did you say, FM#3?  Did you say that Daddy’s your hero?”  “Nes (Yes), I did.”  He continued, a bit clearer this time,  “He’s my hero.”  For the rest of the day today, every time I mention my Beloved, FM#3 says, “He’s my hero.”  It brings me almost to tears every time.