Slip

Weekly Anamnesis #29

It looked like a science experiment gone wrong, or the latest goo technology of the 80s. I eyed the bowl warily as I saw long flat green things swimming sinisterly beneath the murky surface. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. In horror I watched my mother dip in a spoon and fish out some of the green stuff. A pale greenish slime drip from the spoon, there was practically enough elasticity that I thought it was going to bounce right up again before the line grew thinner and separated. With a resonating “schlop” she plopped it on my plate, a sound similar to a suction cup slowly being peeled from a window.

“I have to eat that!” I gasped as my nose caught an odor equal to dog vomit. My brothers were eyeing the mess with as much timidity as I, but my sisters didn’t seem the least bit phased. “They had probably helped make it,” I reasoned in my head.

My Mother’s glower was enough to answer my question. I knew the rule; once on the plate it had to be devoured in order for us to make our exodus from the table. I poked my forked at the pile of sludge on my plate and a chorus of “let my people gooooo” rambled through my brain as I leaned in my seat, gazing with yearning through the door where freedom lay. There would be no hope of Salvation for me as I eyed my Promised Land beyond the kitchen table.

“It looks like mucus,” my brother whispered in my ear sending us into a fit of giggles.

“Mom, what is this stuff anyway? Are you sure it’s actually edible?” I was expecting it to walk of my plate any minute as I waited for her answer.

“It’s called okra; it’s very good, and very edible.” (Let me insert a disclaimer that I have heard that fried okra is quite good, but I can testify that boiled okra is of the devil himself, heh)

“No guts no glory,” I mumbled under my breath. I speared one of the long green things with my fork and deftly clamped down on my nose with my left hand. I tipped my head back and held the dripping okra up over my plate. I cranked open the hatch and let the slimy thing fall. Trying my best not to gag, I felt it slip right down my throat, no swallowing or chewing involved. Disgusting and slimy, but at least I didn’t have to chew it!

Door

Weekly Anamnesis #28

I tucked my fuzzy pajama covered knees beneath my chin, wrapping my arms around them, hugging them close. I rocked back and forth a bit staring longingly at the sleek dark finish of the bedroom door.

“I won’t cry! I won’t!” I whispered to myself as tears threatened, brimming and pooling at the corners of my eyes. I dashed them aside with my grubby hand. I could hear them, laughing and giggling, their sounds muted by the closed door and the distance of the hall. I could picture them sprawled across the floor munching on their popcorn and laughing over their silly poses on the slides. I saw the slide of my brother in my mind, his hands placed upon his cheeks in a surprised “Oh!” and laughter in his eyes as he stood below a waterfall in naught but his underwear. Oh, how we giggled and laughed at that one. The water splashed off his elbows scattering in disarray, with the brown rock behind him. I heard a burst of laughter, no doubt my sister, and I hugged my knees tighter. “I won’t cry!” I whispered fiercely as I unfolded my little body and crawled into bed.

Only when the covers were yanked over my head did I let myself dissolve into a heap of gut wrenching sobs. Mother had said, “Go to bed.” But I wanted to be with the family. I hadn’t been bad had I? My crying softened and I heard someone at my door. A soft tap and the slight creek as it opened, followed by quiet footsteps. I felt the covers slip over my sodden hair and I looked up into my Mother’s worried eyes.

“What’s wrong? Why didn’t you come out?” She asked.

“You … said … I had to go … to … bed,” I gasped as the sobs threatened another act of piracy. I looked into my Mother’s astonished face as it crumbled into compassion.

“Oh, darling, I said to get ready for bed,” she whispered as she gathered me into her arms.
I turned my tear-streaked cheeks up to gaze into her face, a glimmer of hope in my eyes. “Then, I’m not in trouble?
“No.”
”I can come out and watch slides?”
“Yes.”

My tears forgotten I scrambled out of bed and followed my mother out the door, leaving them to dry.

Love

Grab the Scavenger Hunt code.
Photo Theme. Join the blogroll. Visit participants.

I usually limit myself to one, but these are two of my favorites, and I just couldn’t choose between them:

HHH & Elizabeth

Dorothy & Elizabeth

Question . . .

Ok, I’ve got a kid question (especially for heart parents, but I appreciate any answers or ideas).

I have noticed that Jacob seems to gag on things when he is eating a lot more than any of our other kids. It’s not just big stuff either. Sometimes he’ll gag on a cheerio. It isn’t terribly frequent, but will happen multiple times in a week. He doesn’t throw up, just gags on whatever the thing is he is eating. We aren’t really worried about it, but we always keep a close eye on him when he is eating, and just pound on his back when he starts to gag. Once or twice it was bad enough I snatched him from his chair, flipped him upside down, and patted his back, and that fixed the problem. So my question is this: Have any of you had this problem? Has it gone away, that you have noticed? Would it be caused because he was intubated for such a long time? And do you think we need to worry about it?

Ok, well I guess that was 4 questions. I was going to ask my pediatrician about it yesterday, but I got a bit caught up in the ear infections and light pneumonia part and forgot to ask. I’ll see him again in a couple of weeks and will ask then, but I thought I’d see if any of you had any ideas or suggestions. Thanks. 🙂

Oh, and while I am thinking about it, have you noticed if any of your kids get pimples along their incision line? Jacob does (a lot) and there is one that occurs frequently in the same spot that gets quite a bit of gunk in it. Our ped wasn’t too concerned about it, but I was curious if any of you have experienced the same thing. 🙂

Are your ears packed tight? Do They Give the Doc a Fright?

We have been struck again. Elizabeth caught a cold and was kind enough to pass it on to the rest of us. I don’t know how kids can managed to have energy even when they are feeling miserable, but they do. 🙂 Jacob had his well-child check up today, and while he wasn’t well, it was good that I had taken him anyway.

He had started in on the cold Sat. night and has been getting worse. Yesterday he started pulling at his ears, coughing non stop, his breathing started sounding gurgley, and his nose sprang a fountain of never ending thick green goop. No fever though (well not above 99.9 anyway) and that is a good thing. So, the poor little tyke has been sleeping miserabley and looks so pathetic. His eyes are all goopy and watery and you can hear him breathing from the next room he, he is so congested.

The doctor visit paid off though, because he has a double ear infection, as our ped. put it, “Both ears are loaded.” And upon listening to his chest said that it sounds like he has some stuff down there, probably just a light pneumonia. The good news though, which saved my sanity after the pneumonia news, was that he oxygen levels read at 98. Woohoo! So, we are still doing good in that department, and I could tell the ped. was relieved to see those good numbers too. So, while the poor little tyke is sick and miserable, at least the gunk that he does have in his lungs isn’t affecting his breathing, etc. too much. We just need to keep an eye on him. (Which means I won’t sleep much in the next few days, heh.) And medicate him for his ears, which we haven’t had to do since March! Yippee! We actually made it two whole months without an ear infection! And, we haven’t even had to go into the doctor since begining of April! This is a new record, the longest I have gone without seeing our pediatrician in over a year. heh. 🙂 (especially exciting when all of those appointments have been for only one of the four kids)

Back! By Popular demand . . .

My brother took pity on all you cow lovers amd created this stellar graphic for me. (I should mention that he did this very fast – 20 min. and can do much better when he has the time). So, I give you . . .

Goofy: How To Tip a Cow . . . ?

Human Weed Whacker

I had absolutely no idea that one could actually get sore muscles just from weeding! I am so stinkin’ sore, and I didn’t have any crashes to warrant it, well . . .I had one crash, but that was after the fact. The awesome thing about my parents house, and the main reason we would want to buy it, is that it has a HUGE back yard. We are situated on a double lot, so we have a lot of play area in the back. The thing about this is that when you combine a huge yard with lots of garden/flowerbed space with a father who is a botanist you get tons of gorgeous beautiful gardens, EVERYWHERE. This isn’t a bad thing, I always enjoyed my Father’s yard . . . but combine 4 children (one of which is 15 months), a husband who barely has time to breathe when he gets home, let alone weed, etc., and a crazy mom who runs around like a chicken with her head cut off 3/4 of the time you end up with absolute garden disaster.

Nothing really bloomed this year because the weeds were so bad. I do enjoy weeding, but it’s hard to orchestrate outside projects with a less than 15 month old. Summer has finally hit and we have more sunny days rather than rainy ones which means I can finally get out in that yard (because Jacob can be with me in his play area). So Sat. I got started and weeded for a total of 6 hours! And the ammount I got done in that 6 hours is rather pitiful, if I took a picture and showed it to you now you’d say, “it took you six hours to do that small of an area?” But then you’d look at the mountain of weeds and say, “Wow! That only took you 6 hours!”

Today (after picking up the house and doing the dishes, going to the zoo, and tweaking my blog some more) I weeded for another 2 hours. I have barely made a dent when you look at the enormity of the yard. And I feel like I have become a human weed whacker, but for the time being I am having fun, exhausted and sore, but having fun. 🙂

When Daddy Stops to Play

(dedicated to my HHH)

Giggles infused with joy ricochet
Off the walls, like rainbows off a prism
And I know Daddy is here.

Mopes and frowns transformed,
I see shining eyes framed by curls
When Daddy stops to play.

***

“Fee Fie Foe Fum!” squeals
Scatter through the air, escaping Daddy
Giant and the tickles waiting there

But now I hear a different sound,
Of Daddy yelping madly, I fear his battle
With the knights is going rather badly.

“Gi’yup! Gi’yup!” little one calls,
I see she’s bronco busting, bouncing wildly
In the air, her face is always trusting.

An Indian war cry fills the house
It’s piercing to my ear, they’re whooping all
Around me, I cower down in fear.

“Arrr! I be pirate!” he brandishes his
Cutlass high, along the plank he
Marches them, a patch upon his eye.

But now where are they? He spins
Around to see, 40 impish little
Fingers tickle him with glee.

“Help!” comes a holler, the crocodile
Is about, he’s gobbling quite madly
At their tummies sticking out.

Zooming like a rocket they speed
Through outer space, nothing can
Compare with the grin upon each face.

Now they joined the circus, Daddy
Dons a purple wig, I see them dancing
Wildly, a funny sort of jig.

They make a formal entrance to a
Fancy a ball, Daddy Charming
Waltzes them down the stately hall.

***

Comforters tucked beneath chins,
Reluctant fists clutch Daddy’s
Fingers as drowsy eyes drift in slumber.

A butterfly kisses their cheeks,
Bringing dreams of the magic
When Daddy stops to play.

-J.H. Schmidt

Sports/ Father’s Day

Grab the Scavenger Hunt code.
Photo Theme. Join the blogroll. Visit participants.

I suppose you could say that my HHH (Handsome Huggable Hubby)and FFF (Fantastic Father of Four) is practicing for the long jump here . . .or would dune jumping be considered a sport? heh. This is my favorite, “I can’t believe I got that shot!” pic. We were out galavanting across the dunes on the southern Oregon coast.

Land-Lubbers Beware . . . an all ye Sea Dogs too!

My pirate name is:

Mad Prudentilla Flint

Every pirate is a little bit crazy. You, though, are more than just a little bit. Like the rock flint, you’re hard and sharp. But, also like flint, you’re easily chipped, and sparky. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from fidius.org.

(Hey, it’s a pirate quiz, how could I resist?)