Ren Fair

I haven't been to a renaissance fair since high school, so when a lady in our ward offered free tickets, I eagerly accepted.  I spent so much time in what I feel like can be described as literally hauling the kids around, that I only took 3 pictures.  That's it.  Three.  I apologize for this one being sideways, but this is the fire whip guy; by far the most awesome attraction at the fair.  Or faire.

I like that I didn't take a picture of any of his tricks: the one where he used a huge bullwhip to whip roses out of a lady's mouth, the one where he did two whips at once upside-down and backwards, or the one (as his name suggests) where he LIT HIS WHIP ON FIRE and used it to whip things OFF HIS OWN HEAD.

No, I took a picture of when he was doing a silly crowd-working thing by making a phone call on some guy's phone.

It could be that I was too in awe of his whipping prowess to take any pictures but probably it was the children.  It's always the children.

These are the other two pictures I took.  It was pretty hot, like 90 degrees, and I felt bad for this guy dressed up as a tree, so we paid a dollar to take a picture with him.  Ethan and Nora were completely freaked out by him, and you can see Lillian is not so sure.

Other activities we enjoyed were: seeing acrobats, watching a glass blowing demonstration, eating a turkey leg, Tyler threw some axes, there was a merry-go-round, and a falconry show.  I wanted to get my hair done in a fancy braid but they wanted $25, so I passed.  We'll have to go back one day when our kids are older so we can watch all the other performers with their Elizabethan humor and puns.  I do love a good pun.

Tucson Book Vegetable

I have this feeling that I'm not living as much life as I used to, on average.  Probably this is because I've spent 80.95% of the last 7 years and 4 months being either pregnant or nursing a child under 1.  Also, I finished my degree.  And worked.  But I feel like I haven't done anything else.  We used to be fun and do fun things, we used to have people over.

I'm turning 30 this year, and Tyler asked me what I wanted.  I tried to remember what I did for his 30th and I couldn't remember.  Oh, that's right, I had just started working 2 weeks before and I had 3 weeks left of school so I had no mental energy left to spend on planning anything.

See? Boring.

So, the past few weeks, since I've been feeling a little better, I've been trying to ramp up the interesting factor around here.

Fun-Slump Amanda never went to the Tucson Festival of Books.  It's a huge deal on the U of A campus.  I pictured something overcrowded that my kids wouldn't be interested in and it was often times hot and I didn't want to drag myself all the way into town to have my kids cry and try to run away and freak out while I was trying to look at things and listen to people.  Plus people always complain about how you have to park really far away.

New Amanda is up more up for fun... within reason.  We had to go up to town anyway, so we went and checked it out.

Nora couldn't say "festival" so she called it the "Book Vegetable" which was funnier.

Ethan is always up for hugging people in costumes.

Nora, not so much.

Also... there was a CIRCUS!  They were all characters from The Wizard of Oz.  Here are the two witches doing a double trapeze act.

Nora's favorite part was when the lion, the scarecrow, and one of the flying monkeys started dancing to Gangnam Style.

Near the end, they pulled Tyler out of the crowd to do... nothing.  He stood there for a little bit, and then they sent him back to his seat.  Haaaaawkward.  We didn't stay for too long because we got there late in the afternoon.  Also, we didn't go to any of the approximately 5,000 lectures.  But I did see a real whale brain on display, and that was cool.

I think I might have gone a little overboard on this new more life-y life.  We have secured a babysitter for the next TWO weekends and then I'm going out by myself the weekend after that.  When am I going to have time to knit and watch back episodes of Star Trek: TNG?  They're not going to just watch themselves.

Fast and Slow

Now that I'm spending a lot more time with my kids, I am more aware of what I say to them.  I find that I am giving my kids two different messages all the time, and that might be confusing for them.

All the time, I'm telling them to move faster.  I'm constantly emphasizing that we're going to be late if they don't get their shoes on and get in the car, their cereal will get soggy if they don't put down the ponies and get over here, I am always trying to figure out ways to get Lillian to read more smoothly so she can make 80 WPM and pass off her stupid reading assignments (she has these dumb paragraphs that she has to read over and over and over again until she can read them in a minute or less... we've read the current one every day for two weeks), or pushing her to be able to do her timed math wherein she is supposed to do 72 simple addition and subtraction problems in 10 minutes.  She can do about 20; it takes her about 40-45 minutes to do all 72.

And then sometimes in the same breath, I tell them to slow down.  Be patient, wait, I know it's boring, take your time and do a good job.  Lillian has very sloppy handwriting and Tyler and I harp on her about it ALL THE TIME.  I\We make her erase and re-do, do practice worksheets like the kind you do in kindergarten, and emphasize that she has to think about what she's doing before she does it.  The kids complain that their chores take too long or that it's boring when we go to the park with just a soccer ball and no organized games or activities, or when we have to wait at an appointment or a restaurant and I didn't bring the iPad or any books or toys.

I was thinking about this on our a hike we took recently.  All three kids were walking and there was much emphasis on hurrying up, putting down the rocks, stop touching the grass, catch up, OK I'm leaving without you, and that sort of thing.  The kids kept telling me that they were bored; they wondered when we were going to "get there," and I told them that there was no "there."  I told them that the point was to be out in nature and to get some exercise.  Speed up and slow down at the same time.

I worry that they can't keep up with life, that they won't be fast enough; but then at the same time, I worry that they won't know how to slow down and do "boring" things like wait, study, practice, and enjoy nature.

I suspect that this is why parents make their kids play sports.  It has elements of both things- you need to think fast to keep up with game play, but at the same time, you have to do boring drills and go to practice over and over again.  So, although I have no idea how soccer is going to fit in our schedule, I plan on signing Lillian up for the spring season.

Yeah, you *thought* you'd just pop over...

Last week was Rodeo Week in Tucson, and Lillian had a few days off school so we decided to pop over to California for a quick Disneyland trip.  I actually wanted to go camping, but it was too cold, and I need 15 pillows to sleep in a bed, so I probably couldn't handle sleeping on the ground.

On the way, we stopped to see my Uncle Jim and my cousins (not pictured) in Thermal.  Jim's pig had babies 2 days before we got there.

Baby pigs = super cute.  Mama pigs = super scary.  Also, did you know that pigs are huge?  Like, I was looking at the daddy pig and then looking at Tyler and I decided that the pig was taller.  And weighed 500 pounds, or something.

We were cooing over the pigs and I wanted to pet one but the mama pig was making it clear that she wasn't even OK with me *looking* at her piglets, when Uncle Jim launched into a big spiel about how he's going to sell them at the Easter auctions because the price of ham goes up at Easter and he can get X amount per piglet inside I was like "I'm never eating ham again!"  Easter Means Carnage!  But then I looked at the daddy pig and he was huge and ugly and I thought that I could eat him.  I'm awful, I know.

This is what the kids look like in the car.

 Waiting for the tram.

Disneyland actually worked out really well.  My sister Anne came so there were 3 adults for 3 kids.  It was convenient that I am pregnant because I can't go on the big-kid rides.  So Tyler would take Lillian on the Matterhorn, or whatever, and the little kids and I would chill out on the kiddie rides.  Except I took them on Snow White, and Ethan will never be the same again.  He still talks about how creepy the witch was.

Then I wanted some nature, so the next day, we headed to Laguna Beach with my brother Andrew for a little hike.

The kids haven't quite caught the vision of hiking.  The hike was probably 1.5 miles, and it took a good 2.5 hours.  There was much rock throwing, flower picking, and asking where we were going and when we were going to get there.

There was lots of grass that the kids kept running over and sitting in.  It's like they've never seen real grass before... oh, wait... they haven't.

 We decided to head over to California Adventure the next day.  This day went slightly worse for several reasons:

1. Turns out I'm allergic to Southern California.  "Didn't you grow up there and never ever have allergies?" you ask.  YES! I developed allergies when I lived in San Luis Obispo and I had a cold that wouldn't go away.  Tyler told me it was allergies and I told him he was nutty.  He persuaded me to just try a Claritin and it worked like a miracle.  Still, I was OK when we went to visit my parents.  Then I moved to Arizona for a few years and now whenever we cross the Colorado River, my face explodes.  So I was a little bit miserable from that.
2. Two adults for three kids is not as desirable a ratio as the above mentioned 3:3.
3. Ethan was like, "Didn't we just do this?" and proceeded to freak out.  Also he told me it was too loud there, and this is kind of true.  The rides are all loud, there is loud music playing everywhere, there are loud people, and as soon as we sat down to lunch, the rag-time band started up 10 feet away.

 
Apparently, this is just how my face looks.

This ladybug ride is my favorite: the line is pretty short and the ride is pretty fun.  While we were waiting in line, a little girl who was probably 4 or so told me all about how her favorite ride is Tower of Terror.  I have never been on this ride, so I didn't know what it was like, but if this little girl loves it then it must not be so bad.  Both Lillian and Nora were tall enough so Tyler took them both.

I was waiting at the exit when they came out and both the girls looked like they were going to cry.  Tyler said that he was a little bit scared on the ride and Nora looked at me and solemnly declared that we were never going on that ride ever again.  Ever.

For me, at least, the trip would have been 30-35% more fun if I wasn't constantly sneezing, blowing my nose, or spacing out from the medication.  Oh well.

Things are going better

I went to Tyler's soccer game last night and a friend on the team came up with a concerned face to ask me if I was doing OK.  "I saw your last blog entry," she said with a grimace.

So yeah, that was bad, but it's better now.  Aside from some lingering runny noses, most of the sickness is gone.  I no longer want to put Ethan up for adoption, which is a major improvement.  It must have mostly been the sickness because I swear, it was like he wanted me to beat him.  Then a few days ago, I was playing with him and he was being so cute and I remembered that I actually liked him.

In other news, Lillian's teacher sent home a note asking the kids to EACH bring in 3 DOZEN cookies.  What the what?  My mind is still boggled.  What the heck are they going to do with 780 cookies for 27 people?  I mean, maybe she's counting on some kids forgetting, but seriously.  ONE kid bringing in 3 dozen cookies would mean everyone would get a cookie plus 9 left over.

I read the note like 3 times and asked Tyler to look at it to make sure I wasn't missing anything.  I sent in one dozen because I don't support craziness.

And then in other, other news, I am back to being a 99% stay-at-home mom and you know what? It's just as boring as I remember.  I DON'T KNOW WHAT WOMEN DO TO ENTERTAIN THEMSELVES ALL DAY LONG.  My house is possibly less clean than it was when I was working full time because I think, 'eh... I've got all day long to clean that up, what's the rush?' And then it doesn't get done because I end up reading all mid-morning, then Lillian gets home from school and we have to bake 3 dozen cookies for school the next day.  Or something.

It doesn't help that I am still (STILL) pregnancy sick and very tired.  Oh. So. Tired. Such that when I do feel well enough to go on a walk or something, my children's whines about not wanting those shoes or needing the pink jacket when it's in the washing machine, or needing to go to the bathroom one more time or actually deciding that they hate walks and thought that when I said, "do you want to go for a walk" I said, "do you want to go to the zoo" and now WHY CAN'T WE GO TO THE ZOO, it wears me out and I have to sit down.

I'm just going to chalk it up to the fact that I really hate being pregnant.  However, having had 3 kids already, I know that this is a temporary condition and that it will e v e n t u a l l y end.  In the mean time, I have a lot of cleaning to ignore.

First Dentist Visit

First Cleaning

Nora and I went to the dentist together.  I got my teeth cleaned first so she could see how it was done, then it was her turn.  She was a little suspicious at first and asked if she could hold my hand and made me promise to not let it go "the WHOLE time."

Then about 2 minutes later, she told me that her arm was tired from holding my hand and that I could let go.

Things are... not going well

It started with Tyler being sick, and culminated in me trying to figure out how to load Tyler's gun last night at 3 a.m.  There were a few Motherhood Feats of Strength and a few more Low Points all adding up to the fact that this week has been really awful so far.

Saturday night: Tyler started complaining that he didn't feel well.  I put the kids to bed myself, which might not be a big deal to the rest of you, but I'm pregnant and tired and my body wants to quit at 7.  Not just quit, but like, shut down.  I don't handle all the whining and last-minute attempts at negotiations well at all.  There is kind of a lot of yelling and usually someone ends up crying.

Sunday: Tyler started shaking violently when he attempted to change into his church clothes.  His skin was burning up, so I told him to stay home in bed and I would take the kids to church.  Ethan got to stay home and watch The Incredibles because if you stay home sick from church, you have to keep the baby with you according to the rule I adopted from another couple in our ward.

I came home from church to find Tyler on the couch with MY barf bowl next to him.  Tyler never throws up, so I knew he was really sick.  The rest of the day was spent trying to keep the children away from him and put the kids to bed by myself, again. 

Sunday night: Ethan woke up crying hard.  This is unusual so I went into his room.  As soon as I picked him up, he vomited all over me.  It was in my hair and was running down my back.  I might mention at this time that I'm super sensitive to smells.  I may or may not say this several times a day.  I have found that spraying my entire house with Febreeze is not enough, so I started spraying a hand towel and wrapping it around my neck.  Also, I could smell Nora's hair (which smelled like shampoo) from across the room, so I may or may not have sprayed her head.  Anyway, there I was with a screaming child, puke all over both of us and also, he's not breathing.  Croup.  I forgot to mention that part.

I got him downstairs and gave him some steroids and some Tylenol much to his dismay (the kids complain that the steroids sting in their mouth and that the Tylenol is gross.  I can't wait until they are old enough to swallow pills) and set about cleaning him up.  Also, I'm still covered in vomit.  He vomited all over his blankie, which was unfortunate because blankie is an essential sleeping item.  ESSENTIAL.  I changed his sheets and rinsed out the vomity parts of blankie and put him back in bed with a wet blanket.  He was not happy about this.  By this time, his breathing was better, but not great so I sat up in his room to make sure that the steroids kicked in and that he didn't vomit again and then asphyxiate.  He started talking in his sleep in a crazy demon voice.  Eventually, he calmed down and went to sleep and I went and got in the shower at 2 a.m.  My body took the cue that now was the time to be awake, what with the shower and all, and I didn't fall asleep until 4.

Monday: Ethan had a fever but mercifully did not throw up again.  He is normally a regular awful awful two-year old, but when he's sick, it's 10 times worse.  Also, Tyler was still really sick and could not participate in any parenting activities.  Ethan was demanding and cried and screamed at the drop of a hat.  And then the Tylenol kicks in and they drive you crazy because they suddenly have all this energy and want to go someplace and play but you can't leave because you know he's really sick.  ALSO, I ran out of zofran on this day, so instead of just feeling like I was going to throw up, I was actually throwing up all day long.

By the time I got everything in order to where I felt well enough to leave the house to go fill my prescription and Ethan and Tyler's needs were attended to, Nora woke up with the croup and a fever and I had to fight her to get her to take her medicine and then she just wanted me to hold her.  Then I had to make dinner.

Then I put the kids to bed by myself, again.  I could not fill my prescription as I was done for the day.

Tuesday: Tyler was feeling better, so he LEFT to go on a 3-day business trip.  Ethan was still sick, Nora was still sick.  I managed to get my zofran and a new prescription for phenergan filled.  Activities this day include more crying, more managing fevers and catering to bossy 2-year old.  Nora didn't go to preschool so we were just home.  All. Day. Long.

Tuesday night: I didn't sleep well, I can't remember why.

Wednesday: Ethan woke me up at 5:30 by screaming in my face and asking if he could watch TV.  Love that kid!  I decided we needed to get out of the house so we set off for a walk around the lake.  Nora decided that she wanted to ride her bike.  We got 3 houses down before she freaked out.  She couldn't ride anymore. She wanted me to push her on her bike the whole way around the lake.  No. I'm not doing that.  I told her she could get off and walk or she could start riding.  She screamed for a good 20 minutes.  She eventually decided to walk, but then cried and had several melt-downs on our .33 mile walk.  After we got back, I threw up so I decided to try a phenergan.  The doctor gave me a low dose, so I thought it might not make me sleepy.  I loaded up the kids and headed to the library for story time.  I nearly fell asleep while driving home.  I forced the children into bed and then crashed on the couch.  At some point Lillian came home and proceeded to be VERY NOISY.  I did not use nice words when I told her several times to stop talking to me and be quiet.  I was so very tired.  I was finally able to get off the couch around 4 and then had to do our usual long-haul homework.  We had grilled cheese for dinner.

Wednesday night: I forced the kids into bed at 7.  No stories.  No scriptures.  I was still really tired and I climbed into bed fully clothed at 7:05 and slept until around 10.  I got up and watched way too many episodes of 30 Rock. I went to bed around 1:30 and as I was quieting down to go to sleep, I heard a noise downstairs.  I shrugged it off as a normal house noise and tried to fall asleep.  Then I heard another, then another, then I heard a shuffling sound.  I turned on the light and the noises stopped.  I started freaking out.  I told myself I was being paranoid and I just needed to go to bed, so I turned off the light and I SWEAR I heard the back door open.  I locked the door to my bedroom and got out Tyler's gun (which is where I spent 4 heart-pounding minutes trying to figure out how to load it) and put it under his pillow next to me.  I tried to talk myself out of a home invasion because seriously, who would break into my house when my next-door neighbor is obviously much wealthier than me?  Also, why not wait until we leave in the day?  Why break in 20 minutes after I turn off the lights?  I kept hearing noises so I finally called to police.  They came in about 3 minutes and walked all around and checked all the closets.  I was all hopped up on adrenaline so I didn't fall asleep until 3 or 3:30.  

Thursday morning: Lillian has had a sort of low-grade cough this whole time, and on Wednesday claimed she couldn't go to school.  The cough didn't sound that bad, so I told her she needed to go and that she could tell her teacher if the cough became worse and I would come get her.  She came into my room at 6 and coughed all over me to prove that her cough was worse and that she couldn't go to school today.  She has proceeded to fight with her siblings and be super annoying.  Tyler gets home late tonight and then I go to work tomorrow.

My only saving grace has been that I have just been normal pregnant sick this week: no fever, cough, or body ache in sight.  It's a small consolation, but I'll take it.

I wanted to go outside

Bat boxes

Every year as winter starts coming to a close, I start freaking out; summer is coming.  Summer is a time when we avoid the outside as much as possible.  A time when I grow weary of applying sunscreen and the smell of the pool.  A time when I just tell myself that I'm going to be sweaty for the next six months so I should just get used to it.

This year, the freak out is possibly more potent considering I've spent the last two months on the couch watching every episode of lots of shows.  All that time that we could have spent enjoying the glorious Arizona winter and the not-so glorious Arizona wilderness!  (It's very pokey.)

I made the decision that we'd go on a hike on Saturday, a decision that I knew was doomed to fail, but I wanted to try anyway.  The preparations took FOREVER because the children, I suspect, have formed a cabal to wage war against brushing teeth and putting on shoes.  Also, it had rained pretty hard in the early morning but looked like it was clearing up.  Maybe. Just in case, I decided we all needed rain-proof jackets.  This meant several minutes spent looking through boxes to find a slicky jacket with a hood that would fit Ethan.  "I get to wear PINK, just like Lillian!"

Before we even got on the freeway, it started pouring rain.  Like, monsoon-level downpour.  "Maybe it won't be raining over by the mountains," I offered.  Tyler knows better than to rain (haha) on my parade so he offered a quiet, "maybe."

Not only was it still pouring when we got to the mountain, but the website provided inaccurate directions (that's what I'm going with) so we couldn't find the trail head.  It looked sunny across the valley where Madera Canyon is, so we asked the kids if they wanted to find a different mountain, or if they wanted to go to the children's museum.  They all wanted a different mountain so we headed off across the valley.  It was a miracle; it rained and rained and rained our whole drive, and then cleared up a mile or so away from the canyon.  We were able to have a lovely hike and we didn't get rained on one time!

Lame

I thought the nausea was gone last week.  I was so excited, I cleaned my house for 5 or 6 hours over 2 days. I suspect that some women do this on a regular basis, but it's definitely a special occasion for me because I have probably cleaned for 5 or 6 hours total over the last month.

But, the reprieve was short-lived. Yesterday and today, I have spent most of the day on the couch with my throw-up bowl nearby. I may or may not have watched 10 episodes of "30 Rock."  But the worst part is how the nausea is my own natural Antibuse against sugar.

Antibuse is a medication the alcoholics take that causes them to become violently ill whenever they drink. I'm not sure how well it works because I've never met anyone who has taken it, but I have had several patients who get pancreatitis whenever they drink, a condition which will land you in the hospital for several days in excruciating pain, and that doesn't seem to stop them.

Anyway, this whole time I've been sick, eating sugary things has made me even sicker. This is one of the worst things that has ever happened to me. Wait, maybe best things. I don't know. I can't eat cookies, brownies, ice cream, or candy.

This was how I suspected that my good-feeling wouldn't last: to celebrate all that cleaning, I ate a Cadbury egg.  I love Cadbury eggs.  I'm always super excited for January to roll around and I can grab one at the cash register on my way out of the grocery store.  I mourn when Easter is over. I saw Facebook evidence that they came out with green eggs for Halloween and I searched my store every time I went and told a checker that they needed to get them when he asked me if I found everything OK.

But I ate the egg, and then I threw it up, and then I felt sick for the rest of the afternoon.  So now I'm back to an 8 on the Throw Up Scale wherein I feel like I could throw up if I stand up to quickly, or have to wipe any bottoms, or chase down a squirmy 2-year old, or make dinner, or clean.

I have to go to the store tomorrow because we're out of food.  You can bet I'll be bringing a ziplock Baggie so I can throw up by the frozen food like I do, and also I'll give a stink eye to the Cadbury eggs and I check out.

That's Some Bookshelf

Teerrffiiccc! Radiant! Humble.  One shelf to shelve them all.

In Case You Forgot...

In case you forgot, here's a little reminder:

Tyler is a superdad.  He put 3 kids in the car, drove them 2 hours, and then played with them in the snow BY HIMSELF.

I had to work last Saturday and while it does snow in (parts) of Tucson, the snow is not a season-long thing.  Tyler was afraid that it would be gone by the time we could both get up there in a week or two.

So he just did it.  They played all morning.  We didn't have proper snow boots for Lillian and her galoshes were very good for scooping up snow and packing it around her feet, so I think she was the first to crack.

Other than that, I think they had fun, and Nora told me that snow is her new favorite food.

Gentleman Husband

Halloween 2012

Morning sickness is totally lame.  I'm sick all day long.  This time around, I got a prescription for zofran, which helps me not throw up, but it doesn't stop me from feeling like I'm going to throw up.  All. The. Time.

This constant nausea is not conducive to being productive, feeding/clothing/bathing the children, cleaning the house, fighting with Lillian about homework, grocery shopping, doing laundry, or anything else that resembles  tasks accomplished by a responsible adult.  I mostly sit on the couch and let the kids watch 5 hours of TV a day.

And then... Tyler comes home!

Can I talk for a minute about how great he is?  He makes dinner, does the dishes, gets the kids ready for bed, finishes up Lillian's homework, reads stories, brushes teeth, says, "I love you one" "I love you two" with Nora, makes sure Ethan has his blankie, and then folds laundry by himself while watching back episodes of Arrested Development because I passed out at 7:30.

I have a lot of the Awesome Mother Guilt because I'm so useless right now, but it's very comforting knowing that Tyler has got it.  Maybe he secretly hates all the slack he has to pick up, maybe he secretly thinks that I'm malingering or just being lazy, but he doesn't let on.  He just makes sure my favorite blanket is covering my feet as I sleep on the couch. 

You really don't know anything, do you?

Nora helping Ethan to look at the camera

The other day, I showed Nora that if her hands were cold, she could pull them inside her jacket, and then hold her hem in her fist to keep out the cold air.  This blew her mind.  She couldn't wait to show Tyler... "look what Mom taught me how to do!"

As soon as she said that, I thought, "man, you have to teach kids e v e r y t h i n g," and all of a sudden, I felt very overwhelmed.  Sure, they pick some stuff up through observation and Lillian is learning tons from her peers (some good, some bad), but a big portion of Information that One Needs to Be A Functioning Adult comes from didactic conversations with parents.

Aside from How to Keep Your Hands Warm Without Mittens, here's a list of things I've taught my kids in the recent past:

1. When you blow your nose, try to put your nose in the middle of the kleenex, so you don't accidentally catch a corner and get snot on your hands.
2. Pants are supposed to go all the way down and touch your feet.  It's OK, you will get used to the feeling of the hem on the tops of your feet eventually.
3. That spinny thing in the corner means the computer is thinking and your video will start when it is done spinning.
4. It's mean to tell your sister that you have cookies when you don't have any.  (I'm not sure this message got through as intended.)
5. How to tuck your hair behind your ears.
6. People really like it if you ask, "can I take your coat" when they come home from work.
7. The bones in your face will break if you run face-first into the wall (on purpose or on accident, it's unclear what, exactly, went down).
8. Animations are drawings and live-action shows are real people... but those people are called actors, and the stories are pretend.

So, if you ever have a need to discuss why Perry the Platypus is a mammal, or go over (in infinite detail) the steps involved in sorting laundry, come on over.

Kind of a creepy picture, I know

I read a book called MWF Seeking BFF and it cited research that stated that you needed to have X number of lifelong friends for maximum happiness.  I don't remember the number, but when I read it, I thought, man, I'm screwed... so it must have been more than the handful that I have.  We're talking about friends that you've known for-ev-er: that knew you when you had a gap between your two front teeth that was so wide, you could put your tongue in it; that dropped everything to go with you on a poorly-planned last-minute road trip to Utah, not knowing beforehand where you were going to stay, or what you would eat.

That you haven't talked to in a while, but whenever you're in town, they drop everything to go out to dinner with you and you pick up right where you left off, discussing Jarritos Pineapple Soda and how you can teach an object lesson on STIs with M&Ms.

I may not have very many lifers, but I'm sure glad that Tanya is one of them.  Happy Birthday Tanya!

Why I actually do like being a nurse

Nurses are all about the nitty gritty of bodily functions.  I spent the better part of yesterday trying to get one of my patients to poo.  She didn't want to take a medication called lactulose because it tasted bad.  I assured her that the next step would be an enema, and I didn't care either way.  And I don't.  I see bodily fluids (except for sputum which seriously grosses me out) as part of the machine-works of the body and I stopped feeling embarrassed for the patients a long time ago.  Seriously guys, everybody poops.

Last night, I had a dream that someone wrote a group email saying something like, "Amanda worked really hard today: she didn't sit down for more than 5 minutes at a time, she only peed twice in 12 hours, and she didn't get to eat anything except for the sandwich that she inhaled around 4."  No one wrote an email like that, probably because everyone else was really busy as well, but that doesn't make any of it untrue; all those things really happened.

The social worker for our unit was telling me that her daughter wanted to be a nurse and she was trying to talk her out of it, because she (the mother) spends time around all of us who are run ragged by patients who mistake the hospital for a hotel, and doctors who apparently hate people (why do you go into medicine if you hate people?), etc.  And, it would appear to this particular social worker that we all hated our jobs because we complain so much.  Not so, I told her.  I really like my job.  I need a hard job.

Aside from the fact that I feel like I'm helping the universe move in a better direction, one bowel movement at a time, I like that it's challenging.  I like the fast pace and the pressure.  I like the science of it and that I have to think quickly and be smart.  I like chatting with patients about how they got that crazy scar on their arm while I start an IV.  I like the comrades-in-arms feeling I have with the other nurses and techs on the unit as we wage medical warfare on the masses.

When it is slow and I have to do chart audits because I have nothing else to do, I hate it.  I come up with elaborate schemes that allow me to go home.  I could never sit at a desk all day, I would go crazy.

Parenting FAIL

Lillian's artwork from yesterday

So, I don't think that time when Lillian walked in when I was watching Sherlock scarred her at all, do you?

You just never know

When we came back from California, Lillian went over to a friend's house.  "Lillian, what was your favorite part of California?," the mom asked.

"We went to an oil museum! And they had all these oil pumps!"

"Oh," the mom replied.  "Didn't you go to Disneyland, too?"

"Yeah, but at the oil museum, they had a little model of a jack house pump and you could turn the top and the pumps would go up and down, and then we saw one of the big pumps!"

Next to my father's house, there is an old oil office converted into a museum.  It's staffed by an elderly man and his wife, and the inside consists mainly of that little model, several photographs of the surrounding area before all the houses were built, and a workshop full of large wrenches and stuff.  Outside, you can see the original jack house and the pumps.

I've never been, so I decided to swing by on our way to the nearby park.

The stop took all of 20 minutes, but to Lillian, it was the highlight of the trip, apparently.

Right after I got married, I had a guy friend who really wanted to get married, but kept striking out with the ladies.  He stopped by one day and asked me what girls want for a spouse.  I told him my story with Tyler and that she shouldn't try to make himself any particular way, he should just be the awesome guy that he is because you never know. 

Thus, I find that this principle extends past dating to child rearing.  I would have thought Disneyland or Play City or the beach would have been Lillian's favorites because those were the most expensive, most labor intensive, flashiest stops, and  they required the most orchestration to pull off.  But no, it was the low-budget dinky oil museum that made the trip for her.   

Keeping Life at a 3

"Ambulation" is the medical term for walking.  After surgery, it is important to ambulate at least once on the day of surgery (usually) and then 3-4 times a day every day after that.    If you don't walk, your cells won't get the oxygen they need for healing; your lungs won't be expanding all the way, so fluid could collect in the bases causing pneumonia; and the blood could pool in your legs, giving you a blood clot that could break off and give you a heart attack or stroke; and your bowels won't "wake up" fast enough, possibly giving you an ileus. Ambulating patients drives most of what I do as a nurse.  I need to keep you rested, pain-medicated, cleaned up, and happy enough to get those walks in.

I try to keep my patients at a "3" on a 0-to-10 pain scale.  No pain is unrealistic because 1. you just had surgery and 2. if I give you enough pain medication to erase your pain, you will also stop breathing.  But a 3 you can work through and get your walk in.

Last night, I was reading my first How-To parenting book: Smart But Scattered.  It's all about "executive skills" and how to teach them to your child.  Executive skills are skills needed to execute tasks and be successful.  Lillian has problems with sustained attention, task initiation, and time management.  (I don't know where she got that from: my assessment said my weaknesses were in sustained attention, organization, and time management.)

Anyway, one of the Principles for Improving Executive Skills is to "Modify tasks to match your child's capacity to exert effort."  The authors suggest modifying tasks so that they feel like a "3" on a 1-to-10 effort scale.  This can be accomplished by breaking down the task into smaller pieces (clean just this room, instead of the whole house), decreasing the time spent on the task (clean for 5 minutes instead of 20), or increasing the reward so the task feels like less work.

I've been trying to force Lillian to sit for 3 hours and get all her homework done (because she doesn't do her work in school, we get to do school work AND homework), when for her, that feels like a 10 on the effort scale.  This is why it's not working.  Duh, Amanda!  This is why she flops around and can't concentrate and "forgets" how to do math even though we just went over it 10 times! I don't make my patients ambulate when they have a 10 on the pain scale... I give them morphine and then come back in 30 minutes.

I'm only about 100 pages into the book, so I don't know all the tips and tricks, but I'll keep you posted on how we do.

Beach Day

A lot of people in Arizona hate California: there's too many laws, too many liberals, too many taxes, gas is too expensive, houses are too expensive, the weather is always being better than our weather, you can't just go out and shoot guns wherever, etc.  However, as much as Arizonans complain about California, everybody loves the beach.  Everybody.

I love California and I can't wait to move back there (someday), and I especially love the beach. While we were there, my stepmother graciously offered to accompany me to Little Corona.

This allowed us to have a completely stress-free trip because I didn't have to cart everyone to the bathrooms every 10 minutes, just one kid at a time.

So precious.  

They are finally reaching an age where they are starting to realize that the long-sleeved swim shirts are uncool.  Too bad.  They will wear them until they are old enough to do a reasonably good job applying their own sunscreen.  So... college?

Thank you, Jeri for making this moment possible.

Sisters

Waiting at for the Play Parade at California Adventure with Aunt Anne

I am number 6 of 7 kids, which are broken up into "the 4 older kids" and "the 3 little kids" due to a 3-year gap.  Even though I was part of the 3 little kids, I felt much more comfortable with the 4 older ones.  My sister Anne, pictured above, and my younger brother Andrew, of Steampunk Nintendo fame, were partners in crime and I was the odd man out.

They were always off lighting toilet seats on fire (true story) or whatever, and I was left to... I don't know, ride my bike by myself to swim team or read Anne of Green Gables again.  I don't ever remember fighting with them, except one time at school when I passed Anne and her friends in the hall and she... well, since this is a post about how we're friends now, let's just let that one go.  The point is that we lived parallel lives, never doing those things that you picture sisters doing together (laughing, gossiping, doing each other's hair, playing, etc.)

I read in Nurtureshock that siblings with cool relationships tend to stay that way; if you weren't friends when you were kids, you won't be friends when you grow up.  I'm glad that Anne and I have defied statistics and have become friends as adults.  She calls me to chat on her way home from work, and I call her when I need to figure out what I'm going to make for dinner.

So while I worry about my girls being friends when they're little, I don't stress too much, because they'll figure it out eventually.


*Note: I just remembered another time I fought with Anne.  It was right in the middle of The Clapper craze of the 90's and she had gotten one for Christmas or something.  I was so mad about who knows what that I went into her room and started yelling.  The volume of my voice starting flicking the lights on and off, which made Anne laugh which made me even madder.  It's finally starting to be funny... after 20 years.