It is 8:00 p.m. I am worn out and ready for bed. And not because I cleaned house or spent too much time with the kids. Its because I went swimming--lap swimming you could say. It is tiring. This is the first time I have gone swimming for two days in a row. And I played a 3-game volleyball match last night. I think that may be way over my exercise limit for 24 hours.
One of my best friends in high school was a swimmer. She was on the high school swim team. We met because she was also on the volleyball team (of course). I never thought much about swimming except it was a sport and she did it. And I thought she was amazing for getting up so early in the mornings for swim practice before school. I went to the state meet with her parents and watched her once. She swam with the Masters program in college and then her 2nd or 3rd year joined the university team.
I could swim well enough to pass the swim test at the pool in order to go off the diving board. I loved to play in the water but didn't swim really, just played around.
Then in college I took a swimming class. Wow. I learned that swimming is hard. I mean hard work. It wears you out. But I loved the class. I learned how to swim the right way, with my face in the water, dive in without holding my nose, and do a few other strokes. It was from that class that I gained appreciation for my friend's sport. It is not for wimps.
Now over 20 years later (but who is counting really) I recently began going to the pool with my cousin for lap swimming. We go with the seniors--as in senior citizens. (The water is warmer at that pool than the more popular big pool in town and they haven't said we can't come). I am so so amazed by these old women that swim lap after lap either freestyle, or backstroke or however. And I don't mean disrespect by calling them old women because they are old! And I am totally respecting them. I can only freestyle like about 4 or 5 lengths of the pool (not in succession of course!) the duration we are there. I do some side stroke, or some sort of back float or whatever but mostly my cousin and I just amble up and down the pool so we are exercising but technically not "swimming."
It is good exercise and fun to "mingle" with the older ladies in the locker room and see their friendship and hear their conversations. And to admire these aged bodies, some needing walkers, that are still wanting to get out and move.
November 28, 2012
November 27, 2012
First Lost Tooth
This is my last "first lost tooth." Too soon we will see the last of the tooth fairy at our house.
I took this picture to send to Cameron's doctor since it has been six weeks since his last laser treatment. She likes pictures since we don't see her between treatments. So she not only got a pic of his face but also of his proud hole in his teeth. I thought it was too cute not to post.
He could have another laser in a few weeks but we decided not too. I think we are done for a year or so. This time I actually asked Cameron what he thought about having another treatment and he said that he thinks his birthmark is just fine. So there you have it.
It will be an ongoing process through the years but for now, after 10 treatments in the past two years, we are done. Hooray!
He could have another laser in a few weeks but we decided not too. I think we are done for a year or so. This time I actually asked Cameron what he thought about having another treatment and he said that he thinks his birthmark is just fine. So there you have it.
It will be an ongoing process through the years but for now, after 10 treatments in the past two years, we are done. Hooray!
November 12, 2012
Socks
I am copying the following from my friend's blog that she posted many years ago: (And I haven't seen her for many years as moves have taken us both to different parts of the country--but she is awesome and I miss her.)
"Where do all the dark church socks go? Is there a secret commune somewhere where missing socks can be found? We have 6 pair. I did ALL the laundry. Only one black sock. The rest are out partying somewhere, I guess...
So, I send a plea to the secret sock commune: Please send the socks home. We love them and miss them. We want them to be with us always. Socks, come home!"
Like Andrea, I wonder where all our dark socks go! I don't know how many pair we have--a lot because I have hand-me downs from the older boys plus others that I have bought I know just for the little boys. I have all sorts of mismatched dark socks of various sizes. Of course nobody notices much if they wear mismatched socks, but it is amazing how many shades of "dark" there are. I suppose I just need to throw them all away and buy about 10 new pair and see how long they last. Hopefully they won't be persuaded to join the secret sock commune. (buying new church socks has been on my 'list' for about a month now).
And speaking of church socks, the other day in church Andy was rubbing my leg which had nylons on it. After a minute or so he asked "Why do you wear those kind of socks?" "Well," I told him "because some person decided long ago for reasons unknown, that women were supposed to wear these kinds of socks." I suppose I could look up the history of pantyhose, but I won't. However, if you are interested you are welcome too.
Scott bought himself some new socks. Dark ones and tan ones to go with some of the new clothes he bought. He needed some slacks and dress shirts (but not necessarily white ones) because he GOT A JOB! He is not longer a stay at home worker. He is the controller at the community college here--San Juan College. This means that I have to do more ironing. But it also means lots of other things, like health insurance (as opposed to the private health insurance we currently have that costs a whole lot), and a more traditional family schedule of Dad going to work 8-5. We've had some adjustments but it is awesome. And he usually doesn't lose his socks because they always make it to the laundry hamper (unlike my socks). But only time will tell of course.
"Where do all the dark church socks go? Is there a secret commune somewhere where missing socks can be found? We have 6 pair. I did ALL the laundry. Only one black sock. The rest are out partying somewhere, I guess...
So, I send a plea to the secret sock commune: Please send the socks home. We love them and miss them. We want them to be with us always. Socks, come home!"
Like Andrea, I wonder where all our dark socks go! I don't know how many pair we have--a lot because I have hand-me downs from the older boys plus others that I have bought I know just for the little boys. I have all sorts of mismatched dark socks of various sizes. Of course nobody notices much if they wear mismatched socks, but it is amazing how many shades of "dark" there are. I suppose I just need to throw them all away and buy about 10 new pair and see how long they last. Hopefully they won't be persuaded to join the secret sock commune. (buying new church socks has been on my 'list' for about a month now).
And speaking of church socks, the other day in church Andy was rubbing my leg which had nylons on it. After a minute or so he asked "Why do you wear those kind of socks?" "Well," I told him "because some person decided long ago for reasons unknown, that women were supposed to wear these kinds of socks." I suppose I could look up the history of pantyhose, but I won't. However, if you are interested you are welcome too.
Scott bought himself some new socks. Dark ones and tan ones to go with some of the new clothes he bought. He needed some slacks and dress shirts (but not necessarily white ones) because he GOT A JOB! He is not longer a stay at home worker. He is the controller at the community college here--San Juan College. This means that I have to do more ironing. But it also means lots of other things, like health insurance (as opposed to the private health insurance we currently have that costs a whole lot), and a more traditional family schedule of Dad going to work 8-5. We've had some adjustments but it is awesome. And he usually doesn't lose his socks because they always make it to the laundry hamper (unlike my socks). But only time will tell of course.
November 6, 2012
Conversations with a First Grader
On a Saturday Morning:
Me: Come on. We need to go to Janessa's soccer game.
Cam: I don't want to go.
Me: I know but you have to. Dad is at Andy's game and Brennen isn't here. You can't stay here by yourself.
Cam: Why?
Me: Because you are only 6.
Cam (arguing back): Ya! I'm six and I can even make my own toast!
At Home Depot:
Cam: Can I buy this flashlight? It is $5 and Andy says I have 89 cents.
Me: Well you need 500 and 89 cents.
Cam: ARE YOU SEWIOUS!!?? FIVE HUNDWED CENTS!!??!!
Cameron is so much fun. "Seriously" and "actually" are about his favorite words. However, he is the baby of the family so I realize that I don't give him all the responsibility he needs and do way too much for him. So I am working on that. Making his own toast is a step in the right direction!
Me: Come on. We need to go to Janessa's soccer game.
Cam: I don't want to go.
Me: I know but you have to. Dad is at Andy's game and Brennen isn't here. You can't stay here by yourself.
Cam: Why?
Me: Because you are only 6.
Cam (arguing back): Ya! I'm six and I can even make my own toast!
At Home Depot:
Cam: Can I buy this flashlight? It is $5 and Andy says I have 89 cents.
Me: Well you need 500 and 89 cents.
Cam: ARE YOU SEWIOUS!!?? FIVE HUNDWED CENTS!!??!!
Cameron is so much fun. "Seriously" and "actually" are about his favorite words. However, he is the baby of the family so I realize that I don't give him all the responsibility he needs and do way too much for him. So I am working on that. Making his own toast is a step in the right direction!
October 13, 2012
Mom Powers
I don't know if it is just my kids, or if all kids think their moms have x-ray vision and radar ears.
Child #1 is playing on the computer and takes a bathroom break. He calls me from the bathroom. I go to the door and he tries to tell me something about the computer. This is my child who doesn't speak very well--has what is called articulation issues. I think I can understand him great until I get in the car with him or he is on the other side of the bathroom door. Since it is not a "bathroom issue" I tell him to talk me when he is out of the bathroom. When he gets out of the bathroom he is a little frustrated that I didn't do whatever it is he wanted me to do on the computer.
Child #2 is putting away the laundry. Hooray! I am in the kitchen cleaning up with the water on. She is in the living room where the laundry is on the couch. She tries to talk to me and I yell "I can't hear you the water is on. Come in here." I continue to hear her voice though I can't make out any words. After I turn off the water she asks loudly "Are these Dad's?" Because of course I have I can see through the wall to the other room to see what she is referring too.
I guess I should be flattered that my kids think I have super powers and can see and hear them wherever they are in the house. However, as of yet, I have not developed x-ray vision or radar ears.
Child #1 is playing on the computer and takes a bathroom break. He calls me from the bathroom. I go to the door and he tries to tell me something about the computer. This is my child who doesn't speak very well--has what is called articulation issues. I think I can understand him great until I get in the car with him or he is on the other side of the bathroom door. Since it is not a "bathroom issue" I tell him to talk me when he is out of the bathroom. When he gets out of the bathroom he is a little frustrated that I didn't do whatever it is he wanted me to do on the computer.
Child #2 is putting away the laundry. Hooray! I am in the kitchen cleaning up with the water on. She is in the living room where the laundry is on the couch. She tries to talk to me and I yell "I can't hear you the water is on. Come in here." I continue to hear her voice though I can't make out any words. After I turn off the water she asks loudly "Are these Dad's?" Because of course I have I can see through the wall to the other room to see what she is referring too.
I guess I should be flattered that my kids think I have super powers and can see and hear them wherever they are in the house. However, as of yet, I have not developed x-ray vision or radar ears.
October 4, 2012
Too Much Red Stuff
This week was pretty uneventful I suppose. Not too many kids running in and out of my house. This is not always the case however.
We live across the street from a nice large park. And this spring, summer and fall there have been a lot of kids at the park between the ages of 6 and 12. My kids' age range. And so there is not a lack of playmates for my children. That is good. I know I complained about lack of friends and play-dates before, but we certainly don't have that problem anymore.
Those kids who play at the park, well their houses are not across the street from the park. And the kids seem to gravitate to my house a lot. There are mainly 4 families including mine that make up this gang of kids, with some other kids thrown in here and there. I am happy that my children are entertained and not sitting in front of the TV but there are times that it gets to be too much. There are times when I want to hang a sign on the door:
DO NOT KNOCK ON MY DOOR!
MY KIDS CANNOT PLAY RIGHT NOW
YOU CANNOT USE MY BATHROOM
YOU CANNOT HAVE A DRINK OF WATER
I HAVE BAND-AIDS BUT YOU CAN'T HAVE ONE RIGHT NOW
WE OUR OUT OF OTTER-POPS DESPITE WHAT ANDY SAYS
WE MOVED
I am happy that the kids like our house. And our trampoline (we bought a new one--I just can't be a mom without a trampoline). and our backyard and climbing the tree in our front yard. Yes, I am too nice but I do send them back to the park whenever I want. And I don't give them otter-pops, Andy does. And I started making them get a drink out of the hose. (I drank out of the hose when I was a kid and I am fine, I think).
A few weeks ago though there was blood. Twice!
First of all, I come home from somewhere and there are boys running through the house being chased by my son with a cordless drill. Which he is turning on as he chases. And Janessa is in the mix too. I get upset, send Andy to time-out and send everyone else back to the park, but not before I lecture them that "TOOLS ARE NOT TOYS" and did nobody think that was a little dangerous?!? I make sure Andy says that "tools are not toys" like 20 times and tell him that him and his friends need to stay out of the garage. (by the way, my hubby was home but downstairs I think).
Not 10 minutes after I send them all out of my house they come back. One kid's head is bleeding and he is screaming out of control because his hand is covered with the blood so he is freaked out. His brother is crying because he was the one that threw the item that hit the bleeding kid so he is feeling bad. However, the bleeding stops, both boys are consoled by my husband and after washing him up I drive the hurt one home. The sad thing about this story is the parents weren't home and neither boy knew their parents' phone number. What if it had been a bad injury? moral of the story--I made sure all my kids know our phone numbers.
The next incident was on a Saturday not even two weeks past the first one. Boys again. a different group this time. Hubby is gone and I am parked on the couch because I had just had surgery 3 days before (another story for another day). I think Andy is at the park but a kid comes in "Can you help my brother." I am thinking no, I don't want to get off the couch and go outside. "He is bleeding." great. more blood. Where? "In the backyard. He stepped on something". My older son goes out to help and I manage to finally make it out there. Apparently he stepped on something in our grass and cut his foot.
I go outside. The sun is very bright. There is blood everywhere on the cement and his foot. The kids are chattering away. One has the hose on wondering if he should wash the blood up or wash the foot. I am overwhelmed. I feel like I am going to pass out. Luckily I had my cell phone in my hand so I quickly texted my neighbor who came right over. She took care of everything ordering kids to get paper towels and whatever. I did bring gauze and tape out but didn't have the presence of mind to do anything with it. and Andy had bandaids. The cut again wasn't bad but deep. He didn't need stitches. He did know his phone number and his big sister came and helped him home.
Yes I love living by the park. I love the view from my window. I love how nice the city keeps it. I love watching people. I love having close access. Yet, every once in a while I think maybe we should move.
We live across the street from a nice large park. And this spring, summer and fall there have been a lot of kids at the park between the ages of 6 and 12. My kids' age range. And so there is not a lack of playmates for my children. That is good. I know I complained about lack of friends and play-dates before, but we certainly don't have that problem anymore.
Those kids who play at the park, well their houses are not across the street from the park. And the kids seem to gravitate to my house a lot. There are mainly 4 families including mine that make up this gang of kids, with some other kids thrown in here and there. I am happy that my children are entertained and not sitting in front of the TV but there are times that it gets to be too much. There are times when I want to hang a sign on the door:
DO NOT KNOCK ON MY DOOR!
MY KIDS CANNOT PLAY RIGHT NOW
YOU CANNOT USE MY BATHROOM
YOU CANNOT HAVE A DRINK OF WATER
I HAVE BAND-AIDS BUT YOU CAN'T HAVE ONE RIGHT NOW
WE OUR OUT OF OTTER-POPS DESPITE WHAT ANDY SAYS
WE MOVED
I am happy that the kids like our house. And our trampoline (we bought a new one--I just can't be a mom without a trampoline). and our backyard and climbing the tree in our front yard. Yes, I am too nice but I do send them back to the park whenever I want. And I don't give them otter-pops, Andy does. And I started making them get a drink out of the hose. (I drank out of the hose when I was a kid and I am fine, I think).
A few weeks ago though there was blood. Twice!
First of all, I come home from somewhere and there are boys running through the house being chased by my son with a cordless drill. Which he is turning on as he chases. And Janessa is in the mix too. I get upset, send Andy to time-out and send everyone else back to the park, but not before I lecture them that "TOOLS ARE NOT TOYS" and did nobody think that was a little dangerous?!? I make sure Andy says that "tools are not toys" like 20 times and tell him that him and his friends need to stay out of the garage. (by the way, my hubby was home but downstairs I think).
Not 10 minutes after I send them all out of my house they come back. One kid's head is bleeding and he is screaming out of control because his hand is covered with the blood so he is freaked out. His brother is crying because he was the one that threw the item that hit the bleeding kid so he is feeling bad. However, the bleeding stops, both boys are consoled by my husband and after washing him up I drive the hurt one home. The sad thing about this story is the parents weren't home and neither boy knew their parents' phone number. What if it had been a bad injury? moral of the story--I made sure all my kids know our phone numbers.
The next incident was on a Saturday not even two weeks past the first one. Boys again. a different group this time. Hubby is gone and I am parked on the couch because I had just had surgery 3 days before (another story for another day). I think Andy is at the park but a kid comes in "Can you help my brother." I am thinking no, I don't want to get off the couch and go outside. "He is bleeding." great. more blood. Where? "In the backyard. He stepped on something". My older son goes out to help and I manage to finally make it out there. Apparently he stepped on something in our grass and cut his foot.
I go outside. The sun is very bright. There is blood everywhere on the cement and his foot. The kids are chattering away. One has the hose on wondering if he should wash the blood up or wash the foot. I am overwhelmed. I feel like I am going to pass out. Luckily I had my cell phone in my hand so I quickly texted my neighbor who came right over. She took care of everything ordering kids to get paper towels and whatever. I did bring gauze and tape out but didn't have the presence of mind to do anything with it. and Andy had bandaids. The cut again wasn't bad but deep. He didn't need stitches. He did know his phone number and his big sister came and helped him home.
Yes I love living by the park. I love the view from my window. I love how nice the city keeps it. I love watching people. I love having close access. Yet, every once in a while I think maybe we should move.
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