And then there were two...

...weeks, that is. Until the blessed end of this school year.

A lot is packed into these last two weeks, but it's what's not there that is significant. No move. No new classrooms or classmates. No doctor's visits (God-willing), no surgeries, no injuries. No new uniforms, books or roads to learn. No new paths to figure out.

When I look back to the beginning of this school year it seems like years ago that we were entering a new high school; new teachers and experiences in first and fifth grades. We've packed a lot of life into these last six months, and I'm proud of my kids for giving it their all even on days that it was the hardest thing in the world to do. They are truly wonders of resilience.

I look forward to every summer, but this is one I relish most. They have earned this break and I'm looking forward to being in closer awe of them.

Two Weeks

We've officially been Nashvillians for two weeks now. It's not nearly as sinister as it sounds.

We got that first week of school in, which was a big step and a successful one, I'm happy to report. I think we can all breathe a little easier now that that's over. We still need to get into a routine, but we'll get there. Stevie is already on the hockey team and feeling well, and the little ones are meeting new friends.

On the housefront, almost all of the boxes are now unpacked, and with the exception of the garage and storage rooms in the basement, pretty much set up. Tomorrow the last of the various service people come to fix the last of the broken things. God willing. No longer planning my entire day around service calls will be a much needed reprieve. It seems like that's been the agenda since August.

And next week is another fun one to look forward to. We've got tons of family coming in for Thanksgiving, and we are dining at the governor's mansion on Tuesday. I even found a babysitter so Jessie won't be swinging from chandeliers and otherwise causing an international incident.

Because that would be a little sinister for my little Nashvillian.

Proof I didn't pack myself in a box yet

Readying the house for a buyer and the kids for school has been time-consuming and completely exhausting, and I'm trying to fit everything in and get everything done on this ever-expanding to-do list.

I'm failing.

But I did finally get a post up about heart condition on Whoa Momma.

New routine

Well, here they are, bright and early on the first day of 1st and 5th grades.



And here is what Jess and Jing did 5 minutes after they left.

First Day of High School

Maybe in high school they'll teach him how I can turn photos the right way on blogger.

Fashion disclaimer: it's a uniform.

Ticking clock

We've returned again from yet another weekend o' fun.

Packing a summer for 6 into the last two weeks of it has been challenging, but somehow we've managed it. Because in less than a week, a high-schooler officially resides here.

This is incomprehensible to me. I'm pretending I know what to do as I scurry off to physicals and football practice, uniform stores and Office Depot. I clean out his room from clothes that don't fit even though they are practically new, and buy yet another new pair (or three) of shoes.

I love that he's here at this high school place and hate it all at once. I love who he is becoming--who he has become and I miss him already. We have had such a wonderful summer saying farewell to Middle School that I just can't imagine it ending yet.

First Haircut

Some 3 year-olds can look like Dora....




Mine looks like Doris Day.

My human vending machine

Well, this was a new one.

One week ago, Jesso swallowed a coin. And by "swallowed," I mean she literally ate it. I heard her chewing metal, looked over and asked what she had in her mouth. She swallowed, gulped and struggled to get it down, but then finally after she said, "I have a penny in my belly."

And so, the penny pursuit began.

Of course, the actual ingestion occurred at 5:05 p.m.--just in time for my frantic call to go directly to the nurse's line at All Children's rather than my pediatrician's office so I got the added humiliation of that aspect in addition to being a moron. After determining that she wasn't choking, they told me that we would just "have to let it pass" in three days.

That's grossspeak for going through her leavings searching for a coin the same color as her, er, leavings.

Three days came and went. It was a weekend, so I gave it until Monday before I called back. Then Tuesday because I really didn't want to call. And then Wednesday came, and still no sign, so I took her back.

If after a week of stool samples the home edition doesn't yield any results, then an X-ray is prescribed to see where the foreign object has lodged. So we went to the hospital and got the insurance shake-down before going up to radiology where a team of doctors looked for a penny in Jesso's belly.

After 2 hours of waiting and testing and talking, the X-ray was clear.

Lincoln had left the building.

Sometime over the weekend, it "had passed" and escaped the radar of my plastic fork and gag reflex.

I think we just spent 1000 Washingtons looking for that Lincoln.

Confirmation Day

I'll be back when she's 20

I haven't been posting much because I'm in the midst of potty-training.

Send help.

(Or just more laundry soap.)

Be Out There Challenge Day 2

The second day of our Be Out There challenge was also the last weekday of Spring Break for us. While Stevie had all sorts of lofty goals for this vacation, Matty only wanted one thing: to play miniature golf.

An odd request, but easy enough to indulge.

So I cashed in some Juicy Rewards points for discount tickets to Captain Bligh’s Landing: a miniature golf course down in Clearwater.

Please note that Clearwater Beach during Spring Break is only second to the number of people who crowd Disney World on Spring Break. (See Friday's entry.)

But no matter, we braved the traffic circle--an insanely cruel contraption that reminds me of revolving doors on hotels--cool for minute to look at, but really, have you ever tried to push a stroller through? Not at all practical, and borders on decapitating. Anyhoo, I only went around four times before I figured out how to exit, and with a car full of vertigo-infused children, we went to Captain Bligh’s.

It’s a funny little place. An interesting historical fact about old Tampa Bay, after a night of pillaging the city and looting our treasure, pirates used to engage in that ancient seafaring tradition known as putt-putt.

Okay, I totally made that up, but I always wonder why so many miniature golf courses are pirate-themed since I can’t imagine Bluebeard taking a little pencil from his scabbard and writing down his par 3 score after a particularly tricky bank shot over a Sno Bowl colored waterfall. I’m not judging, but I suppose after many long nights at sea, pirates would be particularly inclined toward astro-turf and colored golfballs. Again, not judging.

But it was a gorgeous day, and we all had such a good time. Usually, Sean gets to do all of the putt-putting with the kids and I stay home with the baby, but today we brought her and she got to throw around a plastic club and a ball 3 centimeters from the hole.

And after an hour in that beautiful sunshine and few hundred strokes later, Matty proved victorious. We celebrated in a 1980 (it seriously could have been 1880) arcade with Skeeball.

Curiously, my Ms. Pac-Man and golf score were the exact same.


P.S. There are many moms taking this challenge and getting out there. You can read about their adventures as well:

Ashley Waldvogel Gaddy
Jennifer James
Liz Thompson
Rachel Matthews
Kim Moldofsky
Amie Hurst Adams
Asha Dornfest
Kristin Sundin Brandt
Anna Fader
Veronique Christiansen
Holly Ambrose
Debi Pfitzenmaier
Christine Koh
Cooper Munroe and Emily McKhann

Day 1 of unorthodox, yet perfectly Floridian challenge

You may think that just because we live in Florida--an hour's drive from the country's premiere theme parks--means that we are in Orlando every weekend.

Not really... just every other.

This week to kick off our Out There challenge, we went to Disney World for the day. Granted, I'm not sure this is what my friends at the NWF headquarters had in mind, but we did spend a great deal of time outside together yesterday. Here are my Twitter updates to prove it:





That 4-7 minute number I told you about earlier? We crushed that number just setting up the stroller alone.

We saw native wildlife.



We traveled to different climes.



We talked to the animals.



We went horseback riding.



We went to the mountains. (Splash, Space and Thunder.) And the sea. (Small World and the Pirates of the Caribbean.)

And while this outside may have also had a few plastic trees and animals of the animatronic variety, I did spend twelve hours with my favorite people in the beautiful spring sunshine.



We live in Florida, and that's how we roll.

Happy Birthday, Stevie

My little boy turned 14 today, and in addition to making us all old, it also means I've had the best fourteen years of my life, and we are so very blessed. So very blessed.

Let the messy truth be told

After three full days of having no older siblings around to take the rap, I realize now that it is, in fact, all Jessie's fault.

Tears of awe

I present to you the mother cliche of motherhood cliches: I am having a tough time getting through Amy's first day of Kindergarten.

I know, I know. You're thinking as you roll your eyes across the mommy blogoverse, Of course you are--you and everyone else with a URL and an offspring are lamenting over babies growing up so fast...yada, yada, dabba dabba do. What makes you so different?

Nothing, really, but while I of course share that nostalgic element that this historic moment dictates, I don't think that's exactly what has me so melancholy today.

After we dropped A-Dog off wearing her new uniform and a smile, Jess and I headed out to try out some things to add to our own new routine. We went to the gym where I read worked out unenthusistically and J played in the playroom with a couple of other younger siblings. Afterward, we headed over to Fresh Market for some caper berries and fresh fruit for the kids' snacks tomorrow because that seemed like a good thing to do. But as we loaded up the bags of over-priced guilt organics the tears began to come in earnest, and I realized maybe it wasn't sadness or nostalgia or anything like that. It was something different, something familar like when the boys were having their first Kindergarten days, but I couldn't quite name it back then.

I can now.

It's awe.

Pure, quiet awe.

Perhaps it's because of her special childhood and all of the unique obstacles she's overcome so beautifully. Maybe it's because we arrived at this place by such a different path that it feels so strange. Maybe it's because she's my little girl. Or it could be that motherhood feels differently as we age. (I really hope not.)

Maybe all or none of those, but that's kind of the cool thing about awe as opposed to just wonder or amazement.

Awe isn't everyday (or then it would be clueless bewilderment) so when you do feel it, no explanation is needed. You simply drop to your knees by the sheer beauty of it, and accept it as is--no conditions.

I'm not going to overanalyze this moment, feel silly or mislabel it. I am in constant awe of these gifts that I'm lucky to unwrap a little more everyday, and if some moments are more transparent than others to appreciate them, so be it.

Those were not sad tears nor joyful ones.

They were awe-inspired.

Paper, pens, and BLT-Rexes

As reported earlier, we bagged the early Back To School prep and headed over to Orlando instead. Although there is no official commandment regarding coveting thy neighbor's vacation, we were guilty nonetheless when we heard that some friends were staying at the J.W. Marriott. We decided to join them uninvited, because it is the greatest hotel ever.

It was a good call.

We had fun lazing along the lazy river, and then we ate one of the best (and most expensive) dinners I've ever had. It was absolutely divine, and had me Googling "caper berries" this morning as the taste lingered on my tongue. So. Good.

On Sunday, we made our way back home by way of Downtown Disney which is our way of appeasing the kids when we come within 50 yards of the entrance to Magic Kingdom but never make it inside of a park. So they got a souvenir to a place we didn't go, and then we sat down to eat at the T-Rex Cafe or something. It's similar to the Rain Forest Cafe in size, scope and robotic giant things, but the theme is prehistoric. You and your party of seven get to journey back to a simpler time when man and dinosaur could share a quesadilla in peace before the next meteor crashed into the planet.

Jessie was not at all impressed by the entire display. It was the first time I've ever witnessed that child intimidated by anything, and I'm tempted to install a rbo-tronic woolly mammoth in front of the pantry if it will keep her from dumping boxes of rice onto the carpet every freaking day. But she still managed to wolf down some macaroni-saurus before we got back into the car.

Today I've paid for our a weekend with some last minute scrambling, but that's just okay. They've all got a clean uniform or two and 2 out of the three new backpacks arrived, so we'll be set tomorrow.

The weekend also provided me a 48-hour reprieve from thinking about Amy going to Kindergarten, so that was a bonus, too.

(How on earth is Amy going to Kindergarten tomorrow?)

Blog school 101

On the first day of blog school they teach you a lesson in blog physics: if you write about avoiding the ER one day, you have exactly 3.2 hours before you will return to it in some form or kid or another. It's punishment for not observing some sort of knocking on wood or passing on a chain email ritual.

And so yesterday, it was Stevie who made a visit to our familiar ER docs with a foot injury that occurred on the beach.

Yes, that is quite a familiar refrain around my house. Stevie limped in with Sean and the insurance card limping behind him, and then had three rocks extracted from his big toe and his considerable wound cleaned, treated and bandaged. It was pretty bad. They gave him some heavy antibiotics too since he cut it on a paddleboat in some gross resort water. Ew.

He's resting it and we're watching it while we continue trip preparations.

And as soon as I finish the laundry I'm sending you all an ancient Irish angel prayer and re-enrolling in blog school.

You can, in fact, pick your daughter's nose

You were no doubt thinking that things were a little too quiet around here, medically speaking.

Well, you probably weren't, but now that I brought it up it has occurred to you that no one has made a trip to the ER in a while.

We almost set the "25 days accident-free" calendar back yesterday when Jesso decided to spice things up a bit.

Taking a cue from her older sister who stuck a red hot up her nose a couple of years ago and sneezed cinnamon for a few days afterward, Jess stuck a plastic bead up there.

Running over a little teary, she said, "Ma, Ma...nose." I couldn't see anything at first, but with a shine of the flashlight saw the little white bead perched high up into her nasal cavity. (And if that didn't clue me in, the evidence was in a craft bag opened up on my desk where she was sitting.)

I tried to work it out, yes, that way, but her nostrils are too small and my fingers too big. I thought maybe I could grab it with a pair of tweezers, but she was thrashing around too much and I thought I might pluck her cerebellum. So I let out a huge heaving sigh, and packed everyone up to go to the ER.

Actually, I had to pick up a couple from down the road so that they could watch the other 2 while I went holding just one crying baby instead of four. I made the exchange and carried on the way.

At the traffic light, I was considering ER, pediatrician's office or StatMed--each of which have their own appeal--when I looked in the rearview mirror and saw a little band of white perched close to the end of her nostril. I calmly pulled over to a parking lot (proud that I didn't just turn backwards while holding my foot on the brake like I normally do, aren't you?) and worked my mommy magic on that bead, so it came out in a rather disgustingly-coated nugget in my trembling hand.

And you know what that little cherub said?

"Tanks Ma for helping my nose."

No, thank you Jess, for saving me a $50 co-pay and another entry in the bad mommy file.

Hand, foot and mouth without the hand and foot

We've been sidelined a bit this weekend by one of those horrific preschool diseases that manifests itself in the form of raging high fevers and gaping open sores inside a five year-old's mouth. The doctor said it's one of her "least favorite toddler viruses."

Really???

No shiz.

But seriously, doc, you only have to peer into her poor mouth for 4 seconds and declare "It's virus," never even having to write a prescription nor listen to the sweet little cherub say she can't eat because she "has a fever in my mouth." But thanks for the helpful tip that it could last for a week and she probably can't eat but make sure she drinks to remain hydrated, but yet there is nothing modern medicine has come up with by 2009 to help ease her discomfort.

So this Saturday we'll be hunting down blue ice pops and chocolate yogurt. (That's pudding to you and me.)

Since it's Moo, is it the bovine flu?

See? I made one too many swine flu jokes and tonight I sit here with my little piglet behind me with a temp of 102.7 and the lethargy of an 87 year-old.

While of course it is not an official diagnosis of the swine flu, it is a crazy strain causing concern from the health department. It starts with body aches and high fevers and could last for 5 days. It's an odd symptom for a nine year-old if you ask me, and I can't remember ever seeing him this sick.

So we're watching, resting and fluid-ing, and trying to keep that fever under control. A good weekend to spend doing those things since we uncharacteristically have not much going on. Our big plans include making our new vegetable garden (yay!) and me moving out of my PC and into my new MacBook Pro. (Double-yay!) At this rate my next post will be from my Seattle lavender farm making homemade soap.

But tonight Matty fell asleep holding my hand so that's worth staying in town for.