The Little Man's Christmas Letter

Before I begin, I know that some of you don’t know about me yet. These people call me The Little Man. Or sometimes Prince Charming…I don’t mean to brag, but I charm most of the people I meet.

I came to stay with these people at the end of August (my parents had some trouble taking care of me so I am staying here until, well, I don’t know exactly how long I’ll be here). Just to clarify, I call them “The Lady,” “That Man,” and the 13yo and the 11yo. The lady and that man haven’t really told me what to call them yet so that’s what I’m going with until they do.

And since I haven’t been with them for most of the year, I’m not entirely sure why they asked me to write this letter…I figure it’s because they can’t remember most of their year either so this way they have an excuse for why stuff is missing.

Just blame the baby, apparently.

I will say, though, that they have mentioned little bits of things and being that I am super-smart  with a somewhat advanced vocabulary (in spite of the fact that I am just 6 months old), I have held on to these bits of info and shall now relay them to you.

First I will tell you about the two boring people in the house:

That Man and The Lady

That Man continues to work in the same field at the same company, CMT.  I don’t know what he does but he leaves most days when it is dark out and gets home when it is dark out. He also coached the 11yo’s basketball team last winter and is coaching his team again this season.

In addition, he helped with several projects at church this year, including (but not limited to) painting, cleaning (think “cleaning out/purging”…more than your cursory cleaning), and more painting. And then some more painting. Let me put it this way…he wasn’t in charge of the painting, but most people thought he was.

The Lady has been busy for the past few months taking care of me and homeschooling the PBA. She has also been doing some freelance writing this year for a couple local magazines. Her dad (who is a photographer) has taken all the pictures for her stories, and even though she hasn’t admitted it to him, she enjoys working with her dad. I can tell.

Over Easter week-end, the lady and that man had their first foster kiddo placement that didn’t go so well.  It was two little girls who had been in the system a few times and I think we can just leave it at that.

This fall, the lady and that man began a study called “7: A Mutiny Against Excess” by Jen Hatmaker with their Hope Group from church. In August (the first of 7 months), they could only eat 7 foods for the month. Granted, they chose the foods, but it still seems a little bit crazy. I mean, I only have one thing I ever get to eat but still…when you have such an array of options, I really don’t know why you would limit yourself. I think it had something to do with simplifying their lives and being thankful for what they do have and considering people around the world who have less than 7 foods to eat all the time…not just for a month. I think that’s what they said, anyway…

They are currently on Month Four: Media, having already done Month Two: Clothes (wearing only 7 articles of clothing for the month…not including skivvies, workout clothes and jammies, just in case you were wondering…oh, and apparently it’s fun  when you have an urpy baby in the house too) and Month Three: Possessions (giving away at least 7 possessions a day for the month, and being intentional about where they are going instead of boxing it all up and sending it to Goodwill). 

Give them a call or send an email if you want to hear more about this craziness, or any other craziness, in their lives.

The 13yo and The 11yo

The 13yo played basketball for the first time last winter. Although he did a great job, he decided that playing organized ball is not really for him; he will stick to shooting baskets at the gym just for fun. He continues to excel at soccer, traveling the state for games and tournaments. And this summer he experienced his first “overnight” camp at Camp Lakeview, near Seymour, Indiana. He loved it and can’t wait to go back next year. He turned 13 over the summer as well and suddenly he knew everything. I can’t wait until I turn 13!

The 11yo played his fourth season of basketball last winter and just began his fifth season a couple weeks ago . He plays lacrosse too, which is only in the spring… I haven’t seen this game played yet but it sounds a little dangerous. Boys running around a field with sticks they can use to catch the ball and also hit each other with. On second thought, I think I might be in! In February, he had 10 teeth (yes, you read that correctly) extracted (they were all baby teeth, but some were anklosed, which means the roots had not dissolved and had actually fused to the jaw bone) and then he got braces.  He was confined to a Pacers basketball daycamp this year, as the lady wasn’t ready to let him go away for a week just yet. It might also be that the lady didn’t think Camp Lakeview was ready for him. But I’m a little fuzzy on the details…I am only 6 months old, you know.

Over the summer, the boys took a “Safe Sitter” class offered through a local hospital. They learned basic first aid, CPR and how to change a baby’s diaper. Lucky for them, I provided a much more accurate version of a baby than those teddy bears they were using…I include wiggling, rolling and grabbing my feet for an extra added challenge. They do a fabulous job helping the lady and that man take care if me…I don’t think I could ask for better brothers if they were my own flesh and blood.

The PBA began school at the end of July…yes, it seemed early to me too, but these crazy homeschoolers decided to stay on the same calendar as the public school kids…whatever “school” is.

And both boys began art lessons. The 13yo LOVES them and the 11yo, well not so much. The lady says they are “a lesson in humility” for him. I think she’s a really good mom.

Over Fall Break, they all went on vacation to Hilton Head Island; I got to take my own little “trip” to stay with another foster family.  I think they had fun…their skin was darker than mine before they went and it was REALLY dark (compared to mine, which isn’t saying a whole lot b/c I am kinda, really pale…) when they got back.

The Little Man

Let’s see…now to me. I was born in May but the Always Random Family didn’t know about me until August.  On the last day of their first month of “7” (actually as they were “celebrating” with their Hope Group by indulging in some pizza), they got the placement call for me. They had to go downtown and pick me up from the hospital…after, of course, they had a lesson in how to feed me with an NG tube.

So I’ve been with them ever since. I see my mom a few times a week and go to the doctor about once a week too, since I was less than 10 pounds when they got me as a 3-month old…they have to make sure I am growing as I should. I still haven’t figured out how to swallow without gagging so I am having surgery next week to get my g-tube put in. They think I’ll be able to figure out this whole “eating by mouth” business when I don’t have a tube running down my throat all the time. I sure am interested in what other people are eating, so maybe that will help me out too. I hate to ask, but prayers for me would be greatly appreciated.

I think that covers all the basics. Now just to wish you all a very Merry Christmas!

Love,

The Little Man (and the Always Random Family too!)

Making a List

So…coming up with these past few posts have been something of a struggle. Apparently my brain has been reduced to producing small little sound bites. Facebook post-sized.

That being said, I am doing my best to draw this out and provide my adoring fans with an actual post.

It may not be good but it will be longer than a Facebook post…so that’s good, right?

Case in point…because I was terribly proud (and yes, I know pride is wrong…don’t judge) of this parenting moment, I shall share it here with you lovely people, just in case you missed it on FB…you’ll want to be sure to read this because it may be the best part of this entire blog post:

So earlier this week, my 13 asked me to buy something for him, promising "I'll pay you when we get home!"

Unfortunately, he forgot that he didn't have any cash. Except coins...so he paid me $5, mostly consisting of dimes.

Last night, on the way home from soccer practice, I stopped at the store to buy a tub o' ice cream (don't judge...that's not the point of the story). And I made him stand there while I paid $5 for it...mostly consisting of dimes.

So there’s that…

I have been ruminating lately on Bucket Lists. I admire people who have such lists, although I myself do not have one.

We have an “Always Random Family” Bucket List, though I am not entirely certain we will accomplish anything on it.

It’s not for lack of wanting…it’s for lack of moolah.

I am not complaining…I am just saying. It is truly ok and we are all fine with it…mostly we took an opportunity to write down things we’d like to do and it didn’t go beyond that.

No plan to make it happen. No plan at all. And I know that a Bucket List necessitates a plan.

I can live with my short-comings.

As for my own personal list? It doesn’t exist except kind of in my head.

Nor do I have a Non-Bucket List…a list of things I never care to do. I mean, sure, there are loads of things I could put on that list, but I find that once I put those things on my list, the good Lord, in his infinite wisdom, makes sure it is something I end up doing.

Shall I make a list of some of those things for you? (I apologize if I have done such a list in the past…I can’t recall. And if I can’t recall, I am going to venture a guess that you cannot recall either.)

So here is the list…either for the first time or not.

Deal with it.

• I will not live in Indiana, once I graduate from college.
• I will not live in Greenwood.
• I will not have boys.
• I will not name my children with the same first letter of the alphabet.
• I won’t be a teacher.
• I won’t be a homeschooler.
• I will never be a foster parent.

So yeah…it’s kind of like that.

All that to say, I have officially (ok, probably not really but a girl can dare to dream, right?) stopped telling God what I will NOT do.

And that rambling being shared, here’s what I’ve got for you today: I DO (apparently…this is a recent discovery) have a list of “Things I Never Cared to Know How to Do but Do, In Fact, Know How to Do…and Not Only That, I Appear to be Fairly Rockin’ Awesome at Doing”

Yes, the title is a bit lengthy…it’s a work in progress. Kind of like me.

But the title is not the point of my list. My point is to tell what is topping my list.

I must (and this should surprise you not at all) digress for a moment and share a little secret about myself…I beg you to allow it.

I have a bit of a weak stomach. As in: I get uber-queasy when people share medical-related stories.

Even baby birth stories sometimes gross me out.

Now, I can tell anyone who’d care to know about it about my boys’ births, or about my 9+ hour surgery for “my back” (just to clarify, it was not really “back surgery”, but my 11yo is STILL convinced it was; it may have something to do with the fact that I explained my surgery was happening “because I have so many back problems”…take from this what you will, astute readers).

However, I grow pale, get clammy, turn “green in the gills” when other people choose to share their medical “talk”.

OK…do you have a clear picture of this now? Great…I can continue.

In the same vein of telling God what I don’t want to do, he gave me a foster kiddo on a feeding tube.

Lest you be confused, I had previously told God that wasn’t going to happen.

Now, in case you have not seen him live and in person, I shall explain: the feed tube it doesn’t go directly into The Little Man’s belly; it goes in through his nose.

Because I like the rock under which I live, I had no idea until 3.5 weeks ago that that was even a possibility.

Oh, the miracles of modern medicine, right?

So anyway…I’m sure the build-up is killing you (actually, I bet you have all already figured it out…I never claimed to be a suspense writer), I shall let you off the hook.

What is the thing currently topping my list of “Things I Never Cared to Know How to Do but Do, In Fact, Know How to Do…and Not Only That, I Appear to be Fairly Rockin’ Awesome at Doing”?

Threading a feed tube in an infant’s nose and snaking it down to his stomach.

Unfortunately my “partner-in-crime” in this ordeal (because yes, it is an ordeal and yes you most-assuredly need a minimum of two people to accomplish this task; hard to believe but the infant does NOT care for this and there’s a fair amount of, oh, how do you say? Thrashing. Thrashing is the word.)

But I digress…

One thing of note: this would be much easier of my partner (also known as the illustrious Mr. Always Random, who supposedly-has a cast-iron stomach) would stop gagging during the process.

This is all the "fun" equipment we get to use now...the tube is the orange, "snake-like" thing. Oh yeah...

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The Mutiny: Month 2 Day 6: Finally Telling You What I Am Wearing

So...this will most likely be uber-short as I have no time.

You know why...the standard excuse from the past 3 weeks: The Little Man.

But, seeing as how (yes I am certain that is grammatically correct...still on no sleep...my other excuse of the past 3 weeks) you, my adoring fans,

a) have most-assuredly been missing me,
b) have been wondering how this second month of "fasting" has been going, and
c) are dying to know what I chose for my 7 articles of clothing.

So...I will tell you but I must back the train up for a minute; I must explain that Jen Hatmaker included in her "7" her shoes...two pairs of shoes = 1 item.

Our Hope Group opted not to do that; we only "allowed" two pairs of shoes, but they did not count as one of the 7 clothing items.

And we also said that "workout clothes" and pajamas also did not count.

Or socks and skivvies...because that would be 3 items right there; and while this whole "7" business is a bit cray-cray in and of itself, we don't need to be over the top about things.

And while we are on the subject of workout clothes (ok, not really but I don't have time to attempt a smooth transition), I am so thankful for them. The Little Man tends to be most "urpy" first thing in the morning. And being as how (also grammatically correct...don't question me) we are now going to the gym in the morning (because there is nursery/childcare in the mornings AND it only costs $2/hour...wahoo!), I begin my day in my workout clothes.

And I can change them as often as need be (at least once a day, but it has been more...) without dipping in to my 7 allotted articles.

I may be stretching things...don't judge.

As an aside I must really love you people because I am holding a fussy baby and using my right hand to hunt and peck this out. Frankly it is not unlike my method of texting so I am quite familiar with the process.

Don't judge.

Anyway because time is of the essence, and my unsupported left arm is beginning to tremble, here's my 7 clothing items:

Pardon any dirt you may or may not see on the carpet...tomorrow is Home Ec Friday at the PBA and it will be rectified then.

• 1 pair of jeans
• 1 skirt
• 1 dress
• 1 3/4 length sleeve sweater
• 2 short-sleeve shirts
• 1 long-sleeve shirt

 My two pairs of shoes...we are hovering on fall but I think I can get by with sandals as one of my two pairs...at least I hope I can!

This was my original selection...at the eleventh hour I switched my long-sleeve shirt from white to black, and changed the dress to one I can wear by itself...just in case you were wondering if I made any last-minute modifications. This is funny b/c I made my clothing decision the night before we began...and did not put nearly the thought into it as I did the food.

Clearly food is more important to me than clothing.

Don't judge.

And I know that this month is prepping me to give-away during the "possessions" month...so clearly more fun is to be had!

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Cleaning Up: Homemade Baby Wipes

OK you guys…just because The Little Man is not my own doesn’t mean I am going to be treating him like a prince or anything. I am washing his clothes with home-made detergent (ok some of the formula-vomit stuff I used some Tide I had hanging around for a laundry emergency…I felt this qualified as a true “laundry emergency”).

I am using vinegar to soften his towels.

And now, I have made his baby wipes.

Did you honestly think I would spend money on things like baby wipes?

Well, to be fair, I did buy one box of wipes b/c I needed the box. But from here on out: homemade baby wipes city, Baby.

Now, I am sure you are all wondering how I did this.

I know you are not asking “why” b/c you’ve read this blog before.

And because I do not have time to spare (well, I do have a little bit…it’s not as though someone will wake up and demand a feeding or diaper change at the moment; Little Man is at visitation with his mama and daddy as I type…which is a whole weird dynamic I am still wrapping my brain around; it’s rolling around in there, for sure, and may or may not come out one day…we will see where it lands and if I can be diplomatic in my thoughts. Which means that no, it is probably in there to stay, and not fit for human consumption… but I digress), I shall make this as succinct as I possibly can. (See, that’s funny because that entire parenthetical comment was as long as the rest of the blog post…feel free to give a courtesy laugh if nothing else.)

Homemade Baby Wipes

Ingredients:

• ½-1 teaspoon baby shampoo (Dollar Tree)
• 1 teaspoon baby oil (Dollar Tree)
• 1 ½ cups water (my faucet…duh)
• Paper towels (I used Bounty…spared no expense, right? The cheaper ones will shred on you…well, on the baby actually…and ain’t nobody got time for that) 

Instructions:

• Place the shampoo, baby oil, and water in a sealable container (this is simply to make it easy on yourself; I would recommend that you use the one you’ll store the wipes in, but you don’t have to. I’ll let you choose whatever is easiest…I’m nice like that.) and swish it around. No need to shake it; a nice, easy swirling will do the trick.
• Then using a bread knife, cut the roll of paper towels in half, across the center.
• Place one half of the paper towel roll inside the container in the solution. Give it about 10-15 minutes to soak up the liquid; then pull out the cardboard middle from the paper towel.
• You’ll be able to pull the wipes from the middle of the roll.
• One container of these wipes costs approximately $0.60 (or less) to make, and mostly depends on how much you pay for your paper towels.

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The Little Man

I know that you have been eagerly-anticipating my assessment of the first month of “7”. But I just cannot wrap my brain around it.

If you don’t follow me on FB, you may be a touch confused. So I shall momentarily explain.

So I have gone and dropped off the planet again. But this time it's legit. We have a baby. 

Not our baby.

A foster baby. 

And he is teeny tiny. 

And he eats every 3 hours, if not more often (today it has been more often, which is good b/c he needs it)...and yes, it includes the night. He doesn’t wake up and demand to eat, but we have to get up and feed him. The feed tube makes that easier, as anyone who has tried to bottle-feed a sleepy baby can attest.

All this to say, I'm running on not a lot of sleep. You can call me Jerry.

(There's a really funny Seinfeld clip where Jerry's staying in Kramer's apartment...well, I found it on Youtube but I can't get it loaded here. Feel free to take a look for yourself. It's only 20 seconds long. Good luck.)

Anyway, The Little Man is soft and cuddly and smells of spit up formula. He's been bathed 4 times but he still kinda stinks.

But he sleeps like a champ…so that makes up for any lingering funk.

I wish I could share details about his 3 months thus far. But I can't. Just trust me when I tell you that it's sad.

And I wish I could share pictures of him with you. But I can't. Just trust me when I say that he's the cutest thing ever...excepting maybe my biologicals. (I have to say that.)

So yeah...that's what I'm up to. That and trying to homeschool the PBA. And keep the house somewhat clean. And going to various and sundry appointments for all 3 children who are currently living with me.

I’ll be honest…it’s not the best week of homeschooling we’ve ever had. Not the worst, but definitely not the best.

Oh and packing to go to family camp this weekend. As an aside I über thankful that we were offered a room in the lodge instead of doing the tent camping we'd planned on. I mean tent camping with a 3 month old that's on a feed tube SOUNDS fun but I'm just not feeling it.

Call me crazy.

And while we are on the subject of thankful I am thankful for the gifts of a pack n play, clothes, blankets, burp cloths, car seats, bedding, and various other accoutrements, as well as and loaner equipment like a baby carrier and a bouncy seat.

And a HUGE shout-out to our Hope Group friends who assembled the crib while we went downtown and picked up the sweet boy at the hospital. We were with them when we got the call for placement and immediately asked what they could do.

Mr. AR (not wanting to burden anyone) said we didn’t need any help.

I, however, have stopped pretending to be Super Woman. I piped right up and said, “We are going to Target to buy a crib. Come to our house in about 20 minutes and put it together for us while we are gone.”

I cannot fathom what we would have done without them….especially since we did not get home until midnight. Putting a crib together at Midnight sounds like fun, doesn’t it?

And most of all, we are so overwhelmed with all the prayers. We appreciate the prayers for us but even more the prayers for The Little Man.

If you are so inclined to jon us, here’s how we are asking people to pray for this situation:

• Pray that he will eat well and bulk up so the feed tube can be removed soon 
• Pray that he will respond well to bring held
• Pray that he will thrive by leaps and bounds 
• Pray that God's will be done in his life 
• Pray that his parents will pull themselves together so they can get their sweet baby boy back
• Pray that our family can be Jesus to him and love him like Jesus does

So I really should be writing an article right now but instead I'm telling you lovely people about my current little microcosm.

And I may or may not also be sitting here watching The Little Man sleep. Which might be why I feel as though nothing is getting accomplished around our house this week.

It's funny... At ages 27 and 29, I had the energy to have babies but didn't take the time to hold them like I could have.

Now I don't have the energy (yeah I'm little tired... I'll own it) but I am more inclined to hold a baby. Maybe I'm trying to make up for the non holding he's had up to this point.

But for the record, it's not just me doing the baby-holding...all of us, PBA included, have greatly reveled in holding a sleeping infant.

And speaking of the PBA I am just so thankful to them for all their help. True... neither of them have stepped up and changed a diaper yet (the first formula The Little Man was on did make those diapers pretty toxic ..."hazardous waste coming through !") but the new formula he’s on makes them WAY better. The boys just have no real frame of reference...

To be fair, their only diaper changing experience was a stuffed bear in their safe sitter class this summer. Who knew this experience would come in so handy so soon?

Well I suspect God knew, if anyone's really asking.

And the PBA's help has made me realize that large families are so doing the right thing... Those older kids are helpful! I wish I'd had a couple of them when the PBA were little. I highly recommend it to anyone. I'm certain that it's not that The Little Man's a novelty or anything...

Well I have rambled on long enough I suppose. I do need to get to writing that story. And packing for camp. And most importantly...snuggling that baby.

Thx for stopping by...please know that my seeming-hiatus is in no way an indication of how I feel about you lovely people. I hope to be back with regularity soon. (And no, this has nothing to go with my bathroom habits. Clearly I am spending too much time with the children...arm-pit farts have begun to be funny to me, if that tells you anything).

And maybe I can even get The Little Man to guest write for me. (For those of you who love literary terms, that may be a hint of foreshadowing…).

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Please Explain "Under Warranty"...

Today my car went in for service. It needed an oil change so the timing on this worked out well.

Oh, and they had a "special" on oil changes so that was good too. Who doesn't love a "special"?

But that's not what I'm here to talk to you about.

The main reason for the trip to the dealership was because one of our foster daughters broke the car door handle.

She wasn't mad or throwing a fit or anything. She just broke it. We were driving down the road (actually to the Aldi at which she threw her screaming fit) and because the car was in "drive", the doors were all automatically locked.

And she (apparently) pulled on the handle until it just snapped.

Strong like an ox is that child. She is 3.

Mr. AR called the dealership at which time they quoted him a price of about $85. Not what we wanted to pay but we do kind of like all the doors being able to open from both the inside and outside (apparently we're snobs like that) and since we will be receiving a stipend for taking care of the girls, we wouldn't necessarily be out much money.

So we decided to get it fixed; we are crazy like that.

But today when we dropped off the car, we were informed that the handle would be covered under warranty.

I'm sorry...what? A child INTENTIONALLY snapped the handle like a twig. And there's no charge to us to have it fixed?

I'm not arguing and believe me when I say that I am all-kinds-of-thankful.

But also all-kinds-of-surprised.

On the flip side...we also had an on-going issue which we finally decided to/were forced into addressing; we needed the weather strip on the two rear doors replaced. It has never stayed in place for as long as we've had the car. It began with an occasional "pushing of a little bit back onto the track" to now "the whole trim falls off almost every time the door opens and it takes a good 5 minutes to get it back into place."

That's always a marketable attribute for a car, right? Who doesn't love some high maintenance additions?

It appears that the trim was cut just a smidgen too short when installed, hence the on-going issues.

This condition, however, about which we had NO control or effect...it might NOT be under warranty.

I'm sorry...what?

All this to say...apparently I don't understand the parameters necessary for "under warranty".

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Getting the Crown I’m Due

Well, I kind of have a lot to say in this post so pull up a chair.

You have undoubtedly been wondering what is going on in our household within the realm of dental work. 

Am I right? I mean, come on! Who ISN’T dying to know about our dental work?

Well, let me tell you: the 11yo is doing just swimmingly (his word…no lie…this IS my son) with his braces. He’s all but forgotten about the major surgery he had just a few weeks ago. The crazy-crooked canines (not to be confused with the ones my foster daughters apparently thought Indy would use to bite them…which, as an aside, he most assuredly did not…he just has a horrible underbite that makes him appear ferocious) are pulling up into position so nicely. The braces themselves are not a hindrance in any way, even in lacrosse with that lovely mouthguard he gets to wear.

The 12yo is still waiting for a couple baby teeth to come out so he can get HIS braces. You know, because it’s that whole “rite of passage” kind of thing. We all remember reading “rite of passage” stories in lit class in high school, right? Or maybe that was just me paying attention in class.

See, Mrs. Baxter? I did learn something!

I don’t, however, recall reading a book in lit class in which a character (main or otherwise) getting braces was a rite of passage, but still…I’m certain that you understand.

Well, yesterday, I took the PBA to a new dentist. I did so somewhat begrudgingly…I LOVE my former dentist. I won’t say he's my "old dentist," but he IS a grandpa.

Just sayin’.

I have known him for years.  I babysat for his children. He came to my wedding. We still go to church together.

I LOVE him.

But he’s retiring soon. And he sold his practice. And the new guy…I should probably be more respectful…the new DENTIST…he doesn’t take our insurance.

To be fair, my former dentist may not have taken it either. We didn’t have dental insurance for years and years and years…instead we paid for visits out of our flexible spending account (not that you needed to know all that but I felt compelled to share; I sometimes give out more information than necessary, in case you didn’t know).

But NOW we have insurance. And after yesterday, I am glad. And all kinds of thankful.

I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Just a little foreshadowing for you. (Again with the lit terms…look at me go!)

I prefer to NOT know if my former dentist would have taken our insurance so I can make the break with the office a clean one and only having to reference the insurance issue and not make it personal.

But since I’m all about being honest…I don’t love the new guy. And I am OK with leaving that practice.

Since January I have been hemming and hawing about finding a new dentist. I was having trouble finding one which took my new insurance.

What good is insurance if you can’t find a doctor who accepts it, right?

Well, and to be honest (which I always am), I needed to find one who accepts our insurance AND one which a person I trust recommends.

I’m not too picky, am I?

Well, I finally listened to my friend SV. You may recall that I have mentioned her before…she has the same initials now as she did before she got married. And she didn’t even meet her husband in her homeroom class or anything…because seriously. What are the odds that you can grow up with a last name beginning with the letter “V” and then marry someone (who you did not know from high school homeroom) whose last name ALSO begins with “V”?

I think she should play the lottery....because how lucky is she that she didn't have to change all those monogrammed sweaters, right?

Anyway…she recommended her dentist. So I called the office on Tuesday. And they got us in on WEDNESDAY.

Which was a little unsettling…I thought to myself, “Are they just not that good/busy that they can get us in the NEXT DAY?”

Because as I may remind you…it was for me AND the PBA. So 3 of us. Three next-day appointments.

Hmmmm. I had my doubts. Sorry SV…I wasn’t meaning to doubt you. But I kind of was (Look at that honesty again).

But I did not act on my disbelief…I decided to give it a try. The 24-hour cancellation policy was kind of what did it for me.

Don’t judge.

So…long story short (ok, shortened): I was ah-mazed with this place. Lovely. Friendly staff. Didn’t make me feel rushed like they had somewhere else to be, or dumb for asking questions.

And very high-tech. Which I found to be somewhat intimidating. I’m sure they didn’t catch on to that at all.

But I won’t go into all that flashy stuff. I am here to tell you about our dental issues as of late.

The boys got x-rays and cleanings and all that fun stuff.

I got the same treatment. Mine took the same amount of time as the two of them. I’m sure it wasn’t because I was busy chatting with the friendly hygienist.

I really should get out more. I think the hygienist was thinking that too.

On top of all the excitement of making new friends (I am certain the hygienist will be calling me to grab some coffee with her soon), I must tell you that yesterday was the end of an era, my friends. Yesterday I was informed that I do, indeed, have my first cavity.

My first.

Ever.

Yes, I said my first cavity.

In fact, I was so over-zealous in my break of this streak, that I have not one, not two, but three cavities.

Three.

And one of them needs a crown.

I almost cried.

OK, maybe I did.

To be fair, they are tiny cavities. Excepting the one needing a crown.

A crown.

I keep saying it so that hopefully it will eventually roll right off my tongue.

But as of yet, no; it still sticks in there like a popcorn kernel that’s been spot-welded on a tooth. You know what I mean.

I asked him "Why, oh why would I get three cavities NOW? After 40, I mean, 27 years without?" (OK, maybe I didn't say exactly that...but I was thinking it.)

He wasn’t sure, but he did have some thoughts on the one needing the crown.

I shall back up and describe that one for you though…it’s my back molar. And the cavity is on the back edge…not between the back two teeth. It’s in the very back.

And the hygienist’s little scrapey tool went right into my tooth. I was so thankful I didn’t feel that. Fortunately the cavity isn’t to the nerve. Yet.

They took pictures (and x-rays but I found the photos to be cooler…don’t judge) of my teeth so I could see the rot.

I won’t lie…it was gross and fascinating. He asked me about my wisdom teeth…he said, “This might sound strange but were they on their sides?”

Me: Um, yes, they actually were.

Him: Well, it looks like maybe the wisdom tooth over here was sitting on top of this molar at some point and rubbed against it, pitting it out and making it prone to getting a cavity.

Me: Awesome.

So…he went on to explain that since I have the same affliction as my 11yo…that being “the world’s smallest mouth”, and that it is at the very back, he was not confident that filling it would be effective, especially for the long-term. He said a crown would be better but it’s up to me.

Argh. A crown. Makes me a little sick.

Why? Pride. I have pride issues. For some reason I enjoyed the “no cavities status”. And now that’s over. It’s sad isn’t it?

I’ll confess it. I feel a little, ok a lot, sad about it.

Would you like to see a more interesting word than “sad”? Ok, I am full-service: I am feeling melancholy, gloomy, dismal, glum, miserable, despondent (ok, that last one is a little strong, actually).

But mostly I am just sad.

And do we remember what I do when I feel sad, gloomy or despondent?

I eat.

I am an emotional eater.

Which brings me to another point: what better way to celebrate three cavities at one? Buying a bucket o’ ice cream at the grocery on the same day.

Now what was it again that he asked me regarding the amount of sugar I eat?

I’m not really sure…and Christine, in case you were wondering, I am certain that my Tootsie Pops fix at soccer games have NO bearing on my recent tooth issues either…

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Processing Part 1...and Some Superstition

So…in case you had not heard, the foster girls who came to us a week and a half ago are no longer here. They actually moved to a new foster home on Friday afternoon.

We know without a doubt that our lives were to cross with theirs and that we were supposed to care for them for the short while we did; we do not regret the experience at all but it was never intended to be a long-term placement. We were blessed beyond measure to share the Gospel with them, share Easter with them, pray with (and for…still praying for!), and give them each their own Bible. That right there is more blessings than we deserve and yet God was so good to give them to us.

But I digress…

We are praying that grandma’s approval for custody came through today (although the agency wasn’t sure when it would be, if it ever came through at all) and that they are/will be able to be with grandma and their brothers, all together under one roof.

But being with us was not the best place for them. We cared for them as best we could, but frankly it was much too much for us.

We will know better next time (yes, I said next time…we will try it again) what we may be better equipped to handle.

I can’t even say more than this because I am still processing. I know it was only 9 days, but believe you me: I learned more in those 9 days than some people learn in a lifetime.

So…as I continue to process, you may see bits of it in my writing.

Or you may not. I don’t know how it will all come out. But I can tell you this (and I know it sounds so trite and cliche and that is not what I want but it is what it is so I will say it anyway): I will never be quite the same.

Although I am still somewhat random and felt like story below is something I needed to share.

OK, “needed” is a strong word; wanted would be more like it.

I am trying to get back on the horse. I’ll be honest; Ididn’t find much humor in things last week.

And please understand, I don’t think in any way, shape or form that this will be life-changing in any way. But to show you (probably for the umpteenth…yes, it is an actual number if you count high enough…time) that my 11yo is not so unlike me.

He’s a little random.

And, of course (and this totally goes without saying but I am saying it anyway), hi-larious!

Much to his chagrin, I am certain…the part about him being like his mom, that is.

He LIVES to get the laugh. I can't imagine where he gets that quality; must be from his father.

So…in the car today, we enjoyed listening to the 70’s channel on satellite radio.

I know that makes me sound uppity. That is truly not my intention. It’s one of the little splurges I allow myself.

If that makes me a snob, so be it.

While I’m already sounding snobby, can I pause right here and make a complaint about satellite radio? Again…this is so very much a First World Problem but it’s a little thing which irks me and I feel that this is probably the best forum in which I can vent.

(Cause ain’t nobody else listening to me about it anywhere else…and you might not be either…feel free to skip ahead.)

I hate that Channel 4 on Satellite Radio is now the Billy Joel Channel. I have nothing against Billy Joel and am actually a fan of his work in the 70’s and 80’s (Don’t judge.)

But seriously?!? There’s more of a following of Billy Joel than music from the 1940’s?!?

They think can just make channel changes all willy-nilly as though no one will notice?

I find that difficult to believe. So if you are as moved by my plea as I hope you, I implore you to write to the company and lodge your complaint.

Thank you, in advance, for your full and utmost support in bringing back the 40’s to satellite radio.

Glad I got that off my chest.

Phew. I think we will all sleep a little bit better tonight, won't we?

So…today we were listening to the 70’s channel (obviously not the 40’s channel…yes, beating the dead horse right here) and “Superstition” by Stevie Wonder came on.

The 11yo and I love that song.

The jury is still out on how the 12yo feels about it; he was oblivious. He only listens to his iPod when we’re in the car. I’m sure it is in no way any sort of indication of how he feels about my music selection.

And speaking of feedback on music selection, the girls did not hesitate last week to share their thoughts on the music I like.

I, you know, ever being the mature adult, refrained comment on what I thought about the songs I had heard them singing.

I will not refrain now, however, but will only say this: "W.O.W. Really? You’re allowed to listen to that? And not only LISTEN but are allowed to SING IT? W.O.W. Just W.O.W."

Clearly not the most shocking thing I experienced last week, nor was it altogether that surprising, but yet it kind of was…when I was smacked in the face with it.

But I digress...

Instead of trying to find a common ground, we settled on various orchestral pieces. I was somewhat surprised that they didn’t object.

There wasn’t a whole lot to which they didn’t object.

But again…I digress.

Bringing it back around to today: 70’s channel, Stevie Wonder “Superstition”.

My 11yo said: This song always reminds me of Christmas.

I pondered that for a moment. Sometimes I can figure out why a song will remind him of a certain event, movie or show.

Again…that whole “cut from the same cloth” business.

My husband and 12yo are always a little amazed when I pull something out of seemingly mid-air.

But this time, I was coming up empty.

Bone dry. All I could think of was this Bud Light commercial (which, yes, I have posted before and I still find it very funny…so I, of course, had to share it again. And if you are aware of my affinity for quinoa, it’s even more amusing. So there.you.go.)

But that wasn’t what he was thinking of; he said it reminded him of Christmas.

I pondered a bit more but still…nothing.

So of course, I asked him about it. I used to not ask questions when I didn’t understand or didn’t know something, because I thought it made me look dumb. But now I try to ask if at all possible…because I may look dumb regardless, but at least I will know something new if I ask.

Me: So why does it remind you of Christmas?

11yo: Because of the Bud Light Super Bowl commercials that are on around Christmas time.

I don’t even know what to say about that…I’m just thankful that the stars aren’t out of alignment as I has supposed.

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