Will these ever go well?

I have a full-time job with my little guy.

I came home today to a packet to fill out for Anthony's appointment next month. We are going to the Gait Lab in St. Paul and apparently they would like to see if their already 6-inch file on him can fit just a little bit more. I have 15 pages to fill out. That shouldn't take long, I have nothing else to do, right? Ugh.

And then I had to take him in for a "well-child" visit. Well, my child's visit wasn't very fun.

I was about 4 months over due for it, and it showed. He has grown so much. Over the past year he has put on close to 10 lbs. and almost 4 inches. ?????? What????? Whoa!!!!!

He has also hit puberty. This is interesting territory for this mom. Barely moving out of potty training and right into needing to have the girls wait in the lobby so he can have privacy for his appointment. I couldn't believe I was discussing acne, shaving and deorderant. I just ordered him underwear for Christmas!!

He was quite a little man. Totally knew the drill. Went right to the scale, took off his shoes, got weighed, walked over to be measured, held out his arm for the blood pressure. Sometimes I wonder how this could be the same little boy who I held screaming for these things. Whose blood pressure was through the roof, if they got it, from all the stress. Now, he was like a pro. He even wanted to tell the doctor about himself and answer the questions she was asking me -- sooo precious. ( I translated as best as I could, he sure had a lot to tell her!)

He did all she asked of him so well, like a champ.

And then she reveals the bad news - he needs his blood drawn. UGGHHH!
I HATE these.
As she left the room, I reminded her - "bring your friends".

He totally thought he was done. He completely cooperated with everything she told him to do. He was ready to go.

And then they came. Four women, one with "the bucket". You know, the one with all the band-aids, test tubes, and alcohol swabs she could ever need. Who cares that she had on a stupid Santa Hat! Anthony saw that damn thing and bolted. This is NOT a dumb child! He knows that drill too, we both do - and it totally sucks.

He signed over and over - "scared, scared". But we had to do it anyway.

Now I will remind you - he is 4 feet 4 inches and 83 lbs.

We got him on the table and 4 of us held him down while Santa hat lady stuck him. (Curious side note - the fuzz on her hat was black, not white. It was like the grim reaper santa hat - what the hell is that?)

Anyway, she stuck him and then my little contortionist moved. Shit! The needle came out. And we had to do the other arm.
I hate when we have to do it twice.

Here's the funniest part - if there is such a thing. They said he had great veins. They ACTUALLY said that. This child has been told since birth that he has terrible veins. They roll, they're too tiny, they can't find them (that was my favorite - like he didn't have them or something.) But here they were actually telling me he had wonderful veins. They even used that word - wonderful. I'm not positive, but I am pretty sure I laughed out loud at that.

I also love how he can suprise those nurses. They all come in like they have all done this a million times (which I don't doubt), but they have this confident arrogance that "they got this kid's number". And he ALWAYS puts them in their place. The one nurse went on and on at how he did stuff with his arm she could have never prepared herself for, which is why the needle came out. I told them it was going to be very tough. When will they ever listen to me?

Finally he was done, they got enough blood and he was done. He hugged the nurse, and the doctor when he was done. I loved that. There's quite the forgiving heart, don't you think? Could you imagine hugging the people that stabbed you and the one who ordered it to be done? I think he was just so grateful they stopped.

I love this kid.


We have to do this every six months.

When he was a baby I couldn't even try to imagine the day he would ever be 40 lbs. Now he is twice that. And today I can't fathom the idea of a bunch of nurses and a mom holding down a 15 year old young man. Will this ever get easier?

Well, I guess that could be reason #238 to get myself in shape.

Bah Freeking HumBug

I wish I had the Christmas spirit, I really do.

It's next week.

I'm not "done" with anything, but at least halfway there on most of it.

The only thing that really haunts me is the "newsletter". Each year I attempt to write a piece of hope, love, or joy. I try very hard to walk the tightrope of trying to update everyone on our family, without soundling like a "brag" letter.

Well that shouldn't be a problem this year.
What would we brag about? Hell, I don't even want to admit to half of it.

The trick this year will be to actually find some hope and cheer to spread. I am sure there is some, but today I don't have it. Actually, just right now. I had a great day today. But right now I feel awful. How do I talk about hope and what a "great" year 2009 was?

It sucked.

My husband lost his job, we almost lost our marriage from the stress, and now we're losing our house. How's that for an update? That should make people want to stoke up the fire and snuggle with some hot chocolate. Don't ya think?

Well, the pictures of our totally awesome kids won't be done until Sunday. I can send out my cards and "update" on Monday and still be out before Christmas. So, I have 2 days to get my crap together and find something happy to write about.

Or maybe not. Maybe this year I'll go for honesty. Maybe I'll be more than "facebook fake" and actually tell people that 2009 was an awful year. It sucked and I hated most of it.

Well, I am going to go watch Rudolph with my kids. That usually gets me in the Christmas mood.

I feel kinda like that poor deer. A misfit. Just can't seem to find out why I was made the way I was. (Or in the situation I am in). I want to run away too.

I think I am at that part where I am just hanging out of the island of misfit toys wondering what the heck I am doing. Hoping one day - to lead the sleigh.


Besides,
2009...

It is over.
And we are going to be just fine.

Because we'll get new jobs, and another house, and we survived the test of our marriage, and are better than we ever were.

Hey, we still have our health.

(Could I be feeling a sense of "cheer" already?)

A good laugh

The other day, after struggling since we moved here, to find a good Sunday school option for the kids, like we had in Iowa, and having no luck - I decided to "home school" the spirituality of my kids. It's our overall job anyway as parents, so I decided to give it a shot a few Sundays ago.

We had a total blast!!!!

We spent 2 hours on it, everybody got into it. Even Anthony was in full attention. And did his memory verse super awesome everyday after.

In one of our discussions that day we talked about the four Gospels. Bella couldn't resist the urge to repeat over and over in a sing-song tone, "Matthew, Mark, Luke and John". She had all of us singing it actually. Even little Emma was just going to town with her new little song.

A few hours later, I was talking this over with my grandma and sharing with her how great the experience was, how connected to the kids I felt and how precious the family time was for all of us learning together as we went along.

Soon Emma appeared for a little snuggle time. While on the phone with my grandma, I quick asked Emma if she remembered the four Gospels we learned. (I was sure to impress grandma with this one.) At first Emma hesitated, so I prompted her with "Matthew...".

To which she thought for a moment and finished with -

"Matthew..............Jon... and Kate".

I laughed so hard.

So did grandma.

It's really only funny at first, because if you think about it for too long, it's kinda pathetic.

So I don't, and I continue to just laugh.

That kid ALWAYS cracks me up.

Bless her heart.