KC is reading!

Yup, I have an emerging reader. He has been reading the titles to the Kipper cartoons that he watches on Sprout for a few months now. I sort of discounted that. Though there are no visual cue to the titles, he has a phenomenal memory and might be able to figure out which episode is playing from the "theme" of the show that night.

But, I was wrong. He really is reading. Last week we were at the post office. I helped him read the sign "please wait for the next available clerk" He amused himself with it greatly and has since, been able to read "please wait here" and "please wait for the next available teller". All variations on a theme but showing that he was looking at words as opposed to rote memorization.

Last night he read a book Hoot Hiss and Howl out loud to Kirsty and I. It is a library book and not a book we ever read before. There are definately pictoral cues that helped on some pages, but not on all.

Today he went to put a CD on for his sister. He noticed from the title of the CD that it wasn't the one she had asked for and asked her if it was OK to listen to "bells" instead of "triangles." OK this is just way cool. He hasn't been 5 more than a couple of months. I am stoked!

Rob is almost a teen

Rob's birthday is June 2nd. That means in a few short days, he will be (gulp) a teenager. Right now this nearly teen thing is sitting awkwardly with him. There is a part of him that most decidedly does not want to give up "kid" stuff and another part of him that is increasingly interested in more teen type pursuits. I find it odd that the same child who likes to watch Dragon Tales with the toddlers, is laughing appreciatively over the fumbling romantic advances in the Harry Potter book we are reading together. (The Half Blood Prince) I've noted Rob's increased interest in the opposite sex and thus I was fairly shocked when I asked what he wanted to do for his birthday. He wanted a family party with a Star Wars theme! LOL OK so, you got it!

Tonight after work I took Chet, Lissa and KC out to buy his gifts from them and decorations and other party "essentials." Chet got him a digital camera to replace the one he lost at camp last summer. Hopefully this one will have a happier fate! KC wanted to get him a baseball style cap with the Patriots logo on it, got that, and Lissa was noncommital. At 2 she is more into sweeping the shelves clear of merchandise, so she settled for Nike socks. Sounds lame but the thing is, Rob is very label conscious. I am not. I am about the best bang for the buck. Which means no name tube sox unless it is a gift. Then, he can get his beloved Nikes. He will be thrilled. We got little Star Wars action figures to decorate the top of the cake. We went to iparty and got star wars streamers and plates and napkins. KC was afraid of one of the scenes on the large plates and said he hoped we wouldn't get that one because he would be too scared to come to the party! Opted for a totally different plate and I know Rob will find that story so funny that it won't matter. KC was dancing around the store with such enthusiasm that everyone there thought we were getting things for HIS party. People asked me when his birthday was and how old he was going to be. I explained he had all ready had his day, he was pumped for his big brother. I love that. I hope my kids are always ready to celebrate with and for each other. That is the best kind of gift.

No Visitors!

Well we have gone from a visit with Kirsty's sister happening this weekend and my mom crashing it (laughing) to no one coming. Mom wisely decided she needed to stay in her state. I sort of get that she may be feeling the need for some "her" time as the care of her husband is very emotionally demanding and taxing. But every time she has been here, something has gone awry at the nursing home---and this was before the more recent terminal diagnosis. I know this is her birthday weekend, but there will be many more times for us to get together with her. He even arranged for her to get flowers today which made me all sniffly when she told me. My mom is in many ways a high maintenance woman. Not financially, but I think mostly emotionally. I am not sure anyone has ever met the standards of what she needs emotionally. But the fact that he thought to have flowers ordered for her in the last months or weeks of his life, touched me deeply.

Kirsty's sister has a bad throat infection so she has rescheduled for June 13th. The kids were very bummed as they were thrilled to have "aunty" time ahead of them. At least it won't be long till we can see each other.

There is lots to do this weekend anyway. Sunday is our wrap up Sunday for the childrens program at church. As one of the new chairs of the Religious Education committee there are a few more responsibilities upon me than just showing up with all my kids! I had thank you notes to write, tomorrow I have gifts to purchase for people who have gone above and beyond for the program, and I need to bake something to bring to the picnic which happens afterwards. I found a new recipe for brownies. It incorporates raspberry preserves and white chocolate chips which sounds like it would be a nice combo. It would be something of a leap of faith to make it though as anything I make with chocolate i can not taste. I am allergic to chocolate and will be miserable for hours if I try to eat any. However I make what people assure me is a wicked good devils food cake so I am thinking I might just try this. I have this thing about trying new recipes. I get really bored doing the same old thing. So though I have a kabillion tried and true recipes, an event happens and I have to research and find something new to do. Plus the kids could help me make it and that is usually fun as well.

Then there is the food shopping and other sundry errands that need to happen of a Saturday. And it is supposed to be sunny at last after 4 days ---- 4 very loooooong days---of rain so I have to get some outside time in for the kids. It'll be fun. Somehow we will get it all done and it will be good.

The List!

Keeping our old victorian house in good repair is a constant work in progress. As our family has grown, my expectations of good repair have also had to readjust. But some things just need doing, larger sized family or no. So this past weekend, one evening I made an inventory of all jobs large and small that we could try to work on over the summer. I think the two largest repairs are putting on a new back storm door (which we did once many years ago so we should clearly be able to accomplish again) and replacing the ceiling tiles in our kitchen. Our present ones are for some reason bowing ominiously. They have been for a few years. They are not getting worse but they are certainly decidedly unattractive and not the most cheerful of conversation starters when someone comes over. There was not a leak so I don't know why they are bowing. My guess is improper installation. In my organized virgo way, I have been researching how to install said tiles. You are supposed to staple them to furring strips. My guess is that part way through the installer decided he didn't need to staple every one and over time, they have begun to loosen from one another.

This will be a big job. Our kitchen is about 15 x 15. Kirsty is not enthusiastic about this but I am spinning it that we will have this cool new skill under our belts. She might be better about the idea now. The day I initially told her she was in recovery from replacing 7 boards on our deck! Timing is not always my strong suit. LOL My boss recently told me I will have an extra day off as a reward for a project well done. I am going to posit to her that we have a long weekend this summer devoted to the ceiling. That gives me time to freeze up some meals as one yucky thing I remember about this job was our lack of ability to use the kitchen as a cooking area. She will remind me about the demands of our vegetable garden, our camping trips, and the other 20 or so things on the "list" from H*ll that I created. But I will prevail. I hope. and if we get the ceiling up, I will post a celebratory pic of its new found glory!

Keep me from Eating!!!

OK I have never considered that I had food issues. Not as in eating too much anyhow. Maybe as in obcessively worrying about my weight when I was a dancer, but not to the point where I was anorexic, or bulimic. I just was always very careful. And all my adult life I have sort of just stayed the same weight, plus or minus about 5 pounds. But folks that could change. I think my "diet tool" has been the fact that we usually have had work at night. You can't fold paper or count combs (our piece work business) and eat. Just flat out can't do it because obviously crumbs in the product or greasy finger marks are a no no, even in the low paying world of piece work. Plus piece work isn't really all that low paying if you are fast. Therefore your fingers need to keep doing what they are supposed to be doing.

But we haven't had work consistantly in about 5 weeks. A couple rush orders here and there, but nothing consistant. We may have an order coming in tomorrow. Goddess I hope so. Because I am going to be like 25 pounds heavier in a month or so if this keeps up! LOL

I am the only one in the family awake in the evenings. I don't watch TV if I don't have piece work, I prefer to read. And when I read, I like to nibble. A lot. OK I like to eat like I haven't seen food in days. . . And I read a lot if I am not working. I used to read 7 books a week in my pre-kid, pre-home schooling mom-pre home biz life. I would curl up every evening and read for about 3 hours. I so don't have that amount of time consistantly anymore. But can you imagine what 3 hours of eating does even inconsistantly?

If there are not tortilla chips in the house I eat saltines. I adore saltines. I can mow through an entire sleeve of saltine crackers. Kirsty says I eat them like a buzz saw. She is probably right! Last night I ate 1/2 of a giant (and I do mean family sized) bag of baby carrots. For crying out loud, Peter Rabbit doesn't eat that many carrots! Today at work someone gave me an awesome salsa and guacamole dip. It was too spicy for her and she thought I might like it. Actually I think she secretly wanted to see my eyes bug out of my head and smoke come out my ears when she gave me the sample. She looked the teensiest bit disappointed when I ate it, loved it and offered to take it off her hands if she really didn't want it. But I accidently left it in the fridge at work which is a good thing for my waistline. Tonite, with crackers, it would have been an orgy. If I have it here at the house when we have work, I would be more likely to use it as the basis of an actual meal which would be much healthier.

Sigh. I am off to brush my teeth. I won't want to eat if I brush my teeth. Well, I will want to, but I will know that i am too lazy to brush my teeth twice in a relatively short period of time.

Co-Sleeping

I really meant to write about all the stuff we did today, but what i find myself thinking about is co-sleeping. Co-sleeping wasn't anything we planned on. In fact, I in my overly anal Virgo way researched the best sleeping options for babies born with addictions. I read about how hospitals in England and Australia use this nifty thing called an Amby which sort of bounces gently up and down as they move. It is sort of a hammocky thing but I could see how it was safe and enfolding and would be great for a preemie as the literature said. We bought one and brought it with us to Chicago for KC. It was great as far as a sleeping place for him, and we used it every night there and began using it at home when we returned.

However his milk allergy was not properly nor promptly diagnosed. We repeatedly brought our concern to our Dr but he thought the projectile vomiting and wheezing were a GERD thing that he would grow out of. Wrong. One night he almost choked to death, aspirating his own vomit. Because the nifty Amby held him snugly in the hammock he could not turn himself to even semi-clear the airway. We did of course, leaping out of bed like maniacs, hearts pounding for hours afterward. It was the first night he slept in bed with us. Back to doing research I also found that there was pretty compelling evidence that the risk of SIDS in preemies was reduced by co-sleeping. They tended to match their breathing patterns to the parent they slept with. There was less chance of "forgetting" to breathe, which sounds weird but apparently that is one theory on what happens.

By the time the milk allergy thing was resolved he was a fixture in bed and we all slept so well that we didn't bother doing anything to encourage his sleep elsewhere. He slept through the night so easily, and if he was ill or hungry, it was a cinch to care for him. People looked askance at us but we were okay with that. We love to camp and it was easy to camp with KC. We had a cool air mattress and put him between us. He stayed warm and cozy and loved camping.

A year passed. Two years. KC had zero interest in sleeping on his own. He slept like a puppy does, all sprawled in and around and over his "pack." Our house is very cold in the winter and that compounded the problem. My little heat seeking missile wanted to snuggle on freezing nights and who could blame him. People were really looking askance at us now and I kept trying to make their worries not be my worries. And he really was and still is, such a good sleeper that I felt there was much that was positive to be said for co-sleeping. So much so that when Lissa came, I didn't think twice about co-sleeping with her as well. However Miss Elisabeth had other ideas. She liked her space, likes no noise when she is resting and basically the princess let her loyal subjects know that they were not welcome to sleep with her except on special and rare occasions!

So here we are. KC is 5. And suddenly, he is interested in his own bed. Not his own room, mind you. (laughing) But his own bed. Not every night, but quite a few of them. Sometimes he cries in his sleep and winds up crawling up from the bottom of the bed where his toddler bed is, to our "big bed" and finishing the night with us. But last night he slept ALL NIGHT in his own bed, waking in the morning proud of his accomplishment. He will hasten to assure you if you ask that "it is not as easy as it looks" to sleep in your own bed. So I think that like so many other things in raising kids, they all have their own blooming cycle.

Sunday, Memorial Day weekend

This is the first long weekend I have had in a while. I adore them. I tend to play hard and work hard. The weekend thus far is successfully combining both aspects pretty well. I have finished cleaning the windows, blinds and woodwork in my mom's bedroom (we use it as a spare bedroom now but it has always been "her" room) I have hung new curtains in there and warned her about that change via phone. She seemed okay with it on the phone. When she sees them, who knows. Not that they are ugly; but they are different and increasingly change is hard for her. But her old curtains were more than 20 years old and looked every blessed year of it. Ugly would be too kind a word for them. LOL I now have only 2 more rooms downstairs and then I can start the upstairs windows. Those are a bit easier. There are fewer of them and the windows are slightly (emphasis on slightly) easier to manipulate.

There has been time to play in the yard with the kids. Time to plant at the cemetary. Time to take the kids to the park and time to worship together at church. I surprised myself by being rather (for me) overly emotional during the service. It was in some respects what one might call "typical Memorial Day". The focus was primarily on the loss of the lives of service men and women. The minister this Sunday is a veteren herself. Her reading to launch the service was from a collection of letters written by young enlisted men and women who did not make it home. The first two letters were from the Vietnam war, the second two from the Iraq war. Aside from the ages of the writers (all were 19) there were striking similarities in the way they viewed their war experiences. But I couldn't stop crying as she read the letters. Brimming with that confidence that they would survive. Filled with dreams for futures they never had, the words struck a deep chord in me. Part of it may be because I remember feeling immortal at 19. I am waaaaaaaay beyond 19 now and life is more fragile and cherished to me as an older adult, as a parent, than it ever was in the days of my early adulthood.

Part of it is also because several young people at the complex where I work are signing up and enlisting. Where only a year or so ago, the military was having a hard time meeting its recruitment quotas, the economy has changed that all up. They can be choosier again (previously slight blemishes in education or some run ins with the law were not likely to disqualify; now it might) The kids I know who have enlisted have done so because of the economy. They can't afford college and aren't gifted enough scholastically or athletically to be winning any scholarships. One wants to be a mechanic and hopes that his time in the military will be spent working on their heavy equipment. It likely will, in Iraq or Afganistan and the thought of it makes me shudder. I don't want to have one of those letters be his someday. But he knows that if he doesn't enlist, his only opportunities are really minimum wage, service type jobs. He has seen how this has worked in his family and wants more. Who can blame him? I just wish there was a less risky way to strive for that 'something better.'

After she read the four letters, our minister announced we would now sing our second hymn. The hymn was "Spirit Of Life". Totally appropriate, but I couldn't sing a note, even though I know the song so well a hymnal is superfluous. When I cry, I can't sing. Period. So I just stood there, rocking Lissa, wiping tears. Quietly, Lissa sang the last line of the hymn herself. I was stunned. I know I sing this particular song to her fairly frequently, but there was something so special about her deciding just then to show that she knew the words. "Roots hold me close, wings set me free, Spirit of Life, come to me, come to me."