The Letter

It's Christmas morning! The kids are happily and quietly playing with "everything they asked for," according to James. I am syncing music to Abby's MP3 player, which is harder than it sounds since every time I put a CD in, iTunes automatically takes over and iTunes does not play well with others......It's a long process, so I have a minute to put in the text of James's Christmas letter (see post below.)

Dear Mom, dad, Josh and Abby,

have a good Christmas mom and dad. I hope you like my gift. I can not what til Christmas day. I can not wait to see whet you gat me. have a fun Christmas. merry Christmas.

to my faimly
from James

I love that guy.

James

I know that I have been writing about this boy a lot. A lot. It's just that I am so thrilled about what is happening with him!



As school was starting this year, I was worried. Like not sleeping worried. We had been working hard for over a year (interventions at school, working at home, private tutor) but he was still behind. He started saying he didn't want to go to school. His writing was pretty much unintelligible, and getting him to do it was like pulling teeth. Or worse. His confidence was very low, and I was in panic mode. Nana Pam (our tutor, extra Grandma, and friend) kept assuring me that he was fine, that his time would come, and though I wanted to believe her, I just wasn't sure. As a middle school teacher, I see a lot of kids who just never really catch up. Sure, they read and write, but they just aren't ever where they are supposed to be. I don't need him to be gifted, but I just really, REALLY don't want him to be a struggler.



It has been nearly four months, and he is quite simply a different kid. Through hard work at home, school (thanks Paige!), and tutoring (thanks Nana Pam!), he is making real progress. Because of his success at school (and wrestling too!) his confidence is just through the roof. He is reading his stories in front of the class, reading the menu at restaurants, asking me what signs mean after he reads the words, and writing up a storm. Best of all, every day when he gets out of the car in the morning, he smiles and says "Love you, mom!" and runs toward school. He is just a happy boy this year, and I love it.



On Friday night, he was heading to bed and we had this conversation....



James: Hey Mom? Can I write a letter in my bed?

Me: Sure, I guess. Who are you writing to?

James: I don't know, I just want to write. I'm a writer now.



I immediately teared up and texted his teacher through my tears. He is a writer now because he believes he is a writer. Pretty soon, he called me back to his room. He handed me a letter and told me to promise not to look at it, but just put it under the tree. I crossed my fingers and promised. I didn't open it, but I did glance at the front:



To my faimly

Merry Christmas

Love James.



I cannot wait to see inside.

Swimming

I have no pictures or video of this. I had no idea it was coming, so we were all in the pool together with no cameras anywhere nearby, but Abby started swimming this weekend! We swam in the hotel pool twice. The first time, she kept asking to "swim to me" which really meant kind of hop through the shallow end toward me. So on the second day, I didn't really even pay attention when she was "swimming" to me again. She kept saying "Mom, I'm swimming!" and I kept giving her the non-committal, Mom response "Mmm-hmmm" while I kept an eye on James (who has only been swimming a few times since he learned to swim this summer and is now doing cannonballs into the deep end and spinning somersaults--yikes!)



Pretty soon, she became really insistent. "MOM! Watch!! I'm swimming!" And she was. Doggie-paddling, but staying up in the water all by herself! We worked on it for a while, and soon, she was able to make her way almost all the way across the pool.



We got a trip to Great Wolf Lodge for Christmas from my mom, so I'll sign her up for lessons before that and she'll have a lot more fun there! Sometimes I just can't believe how much faster the third child does everything!

Perfection

I have this problem.....I expect perfection. Not from people (or housework or my organizational skills) but from situations. I try not to, but I always build up an outing or a vacation in my mind as a perfect family moment, and then I am sad (and a little--or a lot--grouchy) when something doesn't go as planned. I have really great memories from when I was little, and I so want my kids to have them too! In my childhood memories, our vacations and outings were perfect. Happy family, happy kids, happy parents, making the memories to last a lifetime. I am sure that my mother is laughing right now. I know that sometimes places were closed, the rain poured down, children (ahem) were bratty, and parents were miserable.

The first step is to admit you have a problem, right? OK. I have a problem. I know that my kids will have great memories even if I don't plan the right dinner or if we are late somewhere, and yet I plan and I plan, trying to make things just right; a magical family moment. I can feel myself doing it, building things up to the point where nothing could ever satisfy me. I have gotten much better at controlling the grouchiness when something isn't going perfectly, but inside, I still want it. Things got worse for a while after Josh starting getting better....I felt like we had been given this second chance, and it was up to me to make sure that EVERYTHING WAS PERFECT. I am working on this, and don't ask John to agree, but I think it's getting better.

Still, this weekend I tried for a magical Christmas memory. And honestly, I got it. Our weekend was perfect (or at least as close as it gets with three kids!)

Pretty perfect, right?

On Saturday, we left a clean house, on time. This alone was a true Christmas miracle. First stop: John's company lunch. It was at a beautiful golf clubhouse, and the kids were amazing. We stayed at our table for over two hours, and the kids were well-behaved and polite and ate the food without complaint. The food was really good, the decorations were beautiful, the boys won gift cards in the raffle (and Abby didn't cry when she didn't), and John won a Starbucks card in the grown up raffle. We sat right by the big picture window and talked and laughed and enjoyed ourselves.

Then we went to our hotel and got there right at check-in time. No waiting! The kids did an excellent job of gasping at the atrium, and oohing and aahing over the decorations. They were so excited that it was actually worth the cost of the hotel just for that moment. We went swimming for an hour, got ready and then headed downtown. From there, my plan went EXACTLY as I had planned it. Dinner by the "river" in the food court, no line for Santa (and the best Santa ever who sat and talked with the kids for over three minutes!), snow inside the mall (I had to tear up just a little to watch the little kids spinning and laughing with the "snow" falling on their faces), Santaland at Macy's, the big tree downtown, no rain, and then we finished off with cheese and chocolate at the Melting Pot. Then we headed home to snuggle up in bed. We had a huge (free!) breakfast buffet and more swimming in the morning.

Sweet Santa. It was the REAL Santa. I'm sure of it. He even had "real white stuff on his face," according to Abby.

Snow!!

Letters to Santa!

I don't know why they were leaning over so much. That is not a weird camera angle, just weird kids.

After we checked out, we stopped by to get my new phone (which I LOVE) and then headed to my mom's for our family Christmas. And believe it or not, that was perfect too! The fires were crackling, the kids were happy, everyone loved their presents, and then we finished it off with a big yummy dinner. My mom had even made a little scavenger hunt for the kids with even more gifts to find.

Annual Christmas photo at my parents' house. Unless my mom's are a LOT better, we may need to try for a re-take this week.

There were a lot of opportunities for everything to fall apart this weekend. A LOT. But it they didn't. There were little moments over the entire 36 hours when I thought my heart might burst. When James wrote his Make a Wish letter to Santa at Macy's and didn't ask for anything, just wished Santa a safe trip and a Merry Christmas. When I looked over at Josh's face at the Melting Pot and his eyes were just lit up at doing something so grown-up. When Abby suddenly learned to swim independently in the pool. When my whole family sat in the living room at my mom's opening gift after gift, and I realized just how lucky we are.

Everything doesn't need to be perfect, but I sure love it when it is!

Memories

Today, I heard about a good friend of my good friend whose child was diagnosed with leukemia this past weekend. In all honesty, the first thing that I did was cry a little. I don't know them, but it doesn't matter. I know what they are feeling right now--it's one of the worst moments of their lives.

Since Josh was diagnosed on Halloween, we were right in the thick of the worst of it for the holidays. To this day, I can barely stand to think about Thanksgiving 2002. But my Christmas memories are better. We went to the Emanuel Christmas party, Josh ballooned to twice his normal size and in his back brace, and had a really good time. We have adorable, hilarious Christmas pictures from that year. We decorated the tree, made cookies, and smiled more that month.

Back brace, steroids, and a smile!

He threw up all over the car on the way to Christmas at my mom's. We were still learning then how to handle our new reality and didn't have the necessary car supplies. (Need an emesis basin? Wet wipes? An extra towel? Come to my car, even today!) But that day is one of my best memories. He played and smiled and laughed. He was walking again by then, and we were surrounded by the people who loved us the most. I remember that day being warm and happy and relaxing and full of gratitude. (It was also the day that we let everyone know that James was on his way.) I can still see Josh clearly in my mind, playing Santa, passing out the gifts. He was so puffy that his rosy cheeks shone and his smile was a big as his head. Watching him, I felt positive for the first time in 55 days. There were still plenty more tough times to come.... We were on Day 55 of 916, but I could finally see that there would be a lot of good mixed with the bad.

Snuggly Jammies that could fit OVER the back brace!

I wish that I could tell that family that better times are coming. That someday, they'll be in my spot, with good memories interspersed with the horrible ones. Someday, they'll know that, but for now, if you have prayers, good thoughts, or positive energy to spare, send it their way.

(I had to put aside my pride to post this picture. Let's just say that a month of bad morning sickness coupled with the stress of Josh's diagnosis did not agree with me. But. See? Happiness and good memories!)

"He was so sweaty, Mom!"

James loves wrestling so much that Josh wanted to try it out. I was really proud of him because he generally steers clear of unknown things. I really encouraged him to try it out, even though I knew that he probably wouldn't love it. I told him it takes courage to try something new, and we asked the coaches if he could try it out. As I have mentioned before, wrestling people are pretty intense, and they L.O.V.E. wrestling, so they were thrilled to have a new potential wrestler. They told him to come try a few practices, and that we wouldn't actually pay and sign him up unless he liked it.

As his first practice got closer, he got more and more nervous. We talked about how it was OK if he didn't like it, but that it wouldn't hurt to try something out. To be honest, I wasn't sure if I was making a mistake to encourage him. It could be a disaster. Josh doesn't handle feeling like he has disappointed someone very well. And that is an understatement! He also doesn't like not being good at something. So we were both nervous when the day arrived.

When he got home, I asked how it went.

Josh: Um....
Me: Did you like it?
Josh: NO!
Me: Oh? How come?
Josh: I wrestled the same kid all practice.
Me: And?
Josh: He was so sweaty, Mom. I kept having to put my hand in his armpit, and he was so sweaty! It was SO gross.
Me: So do you think you'll go back?
Josh: NO!

And that was that. We haven't had any angst about it. He hasn't been agonizing over making someone mad or disappointing the coach. If you ask about it, he just says that it wasn't for him, and he prefers basketball. I am always so proud of him, but I am especially proud of him on this one. Since he is so much like me, I know first hand how hard it can be to just let go of something. But he did it. He tried something new and accepted that it just wasn't his thing. Maybe I should take some lessons from him......

Shoes

James refuses to learn to tie his shoes. He doesn't want to, and he got a double dose of extreme stubbornness from both parents, so I have been waiting for peer pressure to kick in. Except that somehow, Sketchers have made velcro shoes cool, so that peer pressure has been a long time coming.

On Saturday, we were getting ready to leave and the boys were wearing their nicer shoes to go with their button up shirts. We have issues with James and shoes (issues like he loses them everywhere we go, never can find then, and never has them on, even after we've asked 27 times) and he has been trying to do a better job. I have been trying to not to kill him over shoes since I really would miss that shoe-challenged boy, so I was steering clear of the whole shoe process. Josh, who would also miss him if I killed him, had offered to tie his shoes for him.

Pretty soon, I heard "Mom! Mom! James tied his shoe! He did it!" Sure enough, he had tied one of his shoes perfectly. I praised him a ton, and we were all so excited.


James: I did it! Now I can wear tie shoes!
Me: I am so proud of you!! (etc) Why don't you put the other one on now?
I walk away at this point.
James (from the other room): Mom? Never mind. I just got lucky with the one shoe. I guess I'll wear Sketchers forever.
I hurried back in to offer encouragement.
Me: If you did it once, you can do it again!
James: (with a big smile) That's OK. I like Velcro shoes!

Sigh.

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Trying out posting from my new phone.

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Christmas Recital

This summer, Josh's piano teacher decided to stop teaching lessons. She has four young boys, and it had just gotten to be too much. Josh really liked Liz and almost quit taking lessons because he didn't think he would like anyone else as much, but Liz had given us a recommendation for a new teacher, and I convinced Josh to go meet her. Luckily, he liked her, and we decided to start lessons with her once the school year started.

He has really enjoyed lessons with Karen, and he has made a lot of progress. For some reason, practicing has suddenly become his favorite thing, and his playing is really improving because of it. His recital was this past Sunday, and he did great! I am really proud of how hard he has been working.

Emanuel Christmas Party!

Hey look! I don't have to be in picture this time. Year 8 of the Christmas party was the magic year when no one was scared to see Santa!

A fun new addition this year was the photo booth.

The cousins working the food table. Henry and Abby did a little more play than work this year, but someday soon, they'll be official volunteers too!

Saturday was a great day; it really is one of my most favorite days of the year. The Emanuel Christmas Party is even better than my birthday! The party brings back the best of memories and lets us make new ones. In case you don't remember what this is all about, head back here to get caught up.

Just like I do every year, Santa's arrival made me cry. And not just a little. My sister was across from me as we watched, and she motioned to me that she was crying, and suddenly the volunteer beside me laughed. "I thought she was looking at me! I cry every year when Santa arrives, but I have no idea why!" So we cried and laughed together. I agree with her. I have no idea why it is so moving, but it is. The police motorcycle escorts, sirens flashing, followed by Santa waving from the train and then moving to hug every child he can get his arms around? It's awesome, plain and simple.

We were, as usual, in charge of the food table. We wear our official volunteer reindeer antlers and make sure that everyone gets their treats, assuring people "Yes, it's all free. Everything here is free" over and over and over again. James decided after a few minutes to make a sign and wrote "Free" on a sign to reassure people. Watching my two boys, working hard to restock food and helping people get what they need and taking it so very seriously made me tear up again. They are just such sweet boys. I just about had to force James to take a break to go see Santa! He was afraid to leave Grandpa alone to restock and greet party goers, but I finally convinced him to go.

Wendy, whose daughter is the reason for this party, runs the party, and she has always insisted that the kids participate in the party too. We all have the best time, making crafts, visiting Santa who gives out big toys (a Barbie for Abby, a Star Wars toy for James, and a LEGO set for Josh), getting piles of candy and tattoos from the policemen and firemen, and of course, doing our actual job at the food table.

I really like to sit back and watch the party goers. It really is the most eclectic mix of people you will ever see. There are families in matching, expensive Christmas clothes, families who might never own matching Christmas clothes, families with dark circles pulling their inpatient children in wagons, families speaking different languages (I heard at least seven today), families of every race, size, and type. But every family at the party has a child who has been an inpatient at the hospital or who has been out patient A LOT over the year. So, as much as they are different, they are just the same in a very important way.

There is always a gift raffle at the party. Every kid gets tickets (including mine) and they can choose a prize to try for with their tickets. Two years ago, both Josh and Abby won a raffle prize. James didn't. This year, Josh and Abby each won a raffle prize (a pedicure set for Abby and a hockey set for Josh.) James didn't. He was disappointed, but handled it with amazing grace. Later, I saw the boy who had won James's coveted prize. He was the older brother of a completely bald little guy with a port-a-cath in his scalp. The little brother was weak and tired and pale and getting every bit of his parents' attention. But the older brother was beaming, carrying his mini-fooseball table. I pointed it out to James, and I wasn't sure that it sunk in. But later, I heard him tell my dad that now the brother "would have something to do when he was lonely." Seriously, I just adore that boy, and I wouldn't be too surprised if a mini-fooseball table showed up under our tree this year.

Every year, I feel a little guilty when I get my volunteer thank you e-mail after the party. We are the ones who should be thanking them for one of the most wonderful days of the year.

Junie

Our family, apparently, doesn't believe in mourning periods. Frankie died early Thursday morning. Little Frankie Junior (who we will be calling Junie in an effort to remember that she is a girl) was snuggled into her cage by 8 pm on Thursday night. It was the best 35 dollars I ever spent. Josh adores her, and I saw a real smile for the first time in 24 hours. That alone was worth at least 1000 dollars! Maybe more. And this? This is priceless....

(from James--I got an e-mail with this typed text on Friday. I think it will become a book, and I, for one, cannot WAIT to see the illustrations for this one.)

My brother and I got a guinea pig. My brother Josh named her after a TV show.

About five months later, on 12-8-10, we came home. We looked in the cage. My brother's guinea pig was lying down. She looked dead, but she was breathing a little. We put a towel in the box then we put her in the box. We tried to feed her and give her water, but she didn't want it.

She survived about five hours.

When I went to bed, she died. It was very sad.

An hour later, I was coming back from wrestling. My dad got a text saying my brother got a new guinea pig! He named it Frankie Jr.

My brother was holding her. I got to hold her. When we got home, we put her in the cage. It was a baby guinea pig--a very nice baby.

I will always remember Frankie when I go to lay with Frankie Jr. I really loved Frankie. Maybe Frankie Jr will grow up like Frankie. I am excited to play with Frankie Jr.

His grasp of time is a little suspect, but he sure is the sweetest boy.

Christmas Program

When Josh was in third grade, we let him skip his Christmas program to go to a basketball game. I blogged about how much happier he was at basketball here. So this year, when James had wrestling practice at the same time as his program, I realized that fair is fair and let him go to practice. He had a weekend tournament coming up and needed to practice. Josh wanted to skip it too. But. Since he is a fifth grader, this would be his last program, and he didn't have a good reason not to go, so I forced him into going. Fifteen minutes before we needed to leave, he announced that he was supposed to wear black pants and a white shirt. He does not OWN a white shirt. So we found the closest thing, and he went to the program wearing dress pants and thermal Tony Hawk shirt. Sigh.


This is the thing about Josh. He REALLY, REALLY doesn't like to perform. He pretty much hates everything about it. And even more than he hates to perform, he hates to perform unprepared. And apparently, something had been added at the last minute. So he was grouchy and surly and hormonal-y the whole way there. He didn't want to stand with us before it was time to go back, but WAIT! WHY ARE YOU GUYS WALKING AWAY FROM ME?!

He was so nervous. I always tell him to stop being so conceited and realize that NO ONE IS LOOKING AT HIM! I mean, we are, but everyone else is watching their kid, not him. Surprisingly, that isn't very helpful.


The programs are all the same. Slightly off-key singing, hand motions, songs that touch on several holiday traditions (no Hanukkah song this year, though!) And just like every year, I tear up and just about boo-hoo out loud as soon as the singing starts. This year was no different. Except. This one had giant sombreros! Olé!

I took this picture because Josh's face is hysterical! But once I was home, I just about fell over laughing when I looked at all the rest of them! This is fun! We LOVE singing and dancing! To be fair, they are listening to the music teacher, but still. Hilarious.

Blogger WILL NOT let me upload the two short video clips that I took. It's frustrating me, but I think that Josh will thank Blogger for that bit of mercy later in life.

Frankie

So, the guinea pig died in the night last night. Josh left her wrapped in a blanket in a box by the Christmas tree (so she could see it) and headed to bed late, and by the time we got up this morning, she had died. He had a little visitation with her body before I carefully wrapped her up with her Christmas stocking and prepared her for burial later today. It didn't seem silly; it felt just right.

She was just a guinea pig, but Josh really loved her. And since my heart is broken for him, I can barely write this without crying. Actually, I can't write this without crying He sat with her all evening last night, watching her breathe. At one point, he said that he felt so bad for her that he wished she would just stop breathing. It was a selfless thought, and I think it surprised him that he felt that way. But that is just a part of being human. Compassion and grief and dealing with death and dying...all just part of being human. So even though I don't care much about a guinea pig (even a really sweet one,) I am grieving for my sweet boy today.

*#$@*% %$#

(If I hadn't just shown my entire class my blog yesterday while introducing them to blogging, I might use the real words that I'd like to right now for the title of this post. Just kidding, sixth graders! I NVER use those words.)

Josh's guinea pig is dying. We knew she was sick, but we were hoping for a Christmas miracle. More specifically, a Christmas miracle that does not in any way involve a vet bill four times the price of the original guinea pig. Or more likely ten times the price, since I'm sure it would need blood work and X-rays if we actually found a vet who even sees guinea pigs. Plus! Bonus! It was after hours by the time we realized that she was really in bad shape. Awesome. The moral of this merry story is that we are letting nature take its course. Unfortunately, that means my most sensitive child is now sitting on his bed with a nearly dead guinea pig watching it take its last breaths. He is devastated to say the least.

We picked guinea pigs for pets because 1) they have no creepy tails 2) they live for five years 3) they are cute and cuddly and 4) they live in a cage and require very little beyond food and water. Reason #1 and #3 and #4 are definitely true.

Dear Reason #2, You are stupid and we hate you. You are also a big, fat liar. The end.

This is a life lesson that I would really rather him not have to learn, but here we are. Learning a stupid, blankety-blank life lesson.

Whoops!

Abby and I were out looking around stores yesterday, and when we left, we saw a Santa coming out of Petco. We were in the car already, so I ignored her pleas to "Stop! Mommy! Stop! Moooommmmmy!" I assured her we'd see Santa another time.

Abby: Mommy, how does Santa get to all the different places? (CLASSIC question)
Me: Well, some of the Santas that we see are just Santa's helpers.
Abby: Why?
Me: Well, Santa is so busy at the North Pole, but he still wants kids to be able to make a Christmas wish, so he sends helpers to dress up like him and talk to the kids for him.
Abby: Oh. But when we saw Santa last year, that was the real Santa, right?
Me: Oh, I'm sure of it. He knew all about you (he really did--it was a little on the creepy side, to be honest) and he looked just like Santa! I think sometimes Santa gets lonely at the North Pole and comes to talk to kids for just a little while.
Abby: Yeah. That was definitely really Santa.

Several minutes later, I heard a sniffle from the backseat. Then the sniffle became a little moan. And then, in true Abby fashion, that moan became a sobbing wail.

Me: Abby! What's wrong?
Abby: Mommy--I think that was him!
Me: Who?
Abby: SANTA!! That was the real Santa at Petco, and we MISSED HIM! THAT WAS OUR ONLY CHANCE!! (Boo-hoo, sob, sniffle, moan, etc)

Whoops! It seemed like such a harmless, simple way to answer her question........ I did manage to convince her over the next TWENTY minutes that the real Santa was not at Petco, and that the real Santa would be the one we see later. (When we have her brothers and the camera.)

Seven Year Old Logic (or Possible Mental Disturbance)

James: Hey Mom? What if you married the food that you loved the best?
Me: Ummmm....
James: Like what if I married candy? I would want to eat her! Like, all the time!
Me: Uhhhhh....
James: I guess if I ate her, it would be like a divorce, right?
Me: Well, not exactly. I don't think there are many divorced people who eat each other.
James: So there are some?
Me: NO!
James: Oh, well, if I was married to candy, we would get divorced. You know why?
Me: I can't wait to hear this one...
James: BECAUSE candy can't talk, so she would never be able to answer a question! AND, candy can't even do the dishes! I mean, I'd have to do everything by myself! So, we'd get divorced, and then I'd eat her. And I wouldn't even feel bad about eating her!
Me: Oh. My. God. (OK, that was in my head--I really said, Hmmmmm.... and came immediately to type it out so I wouldn't forget.)

Thankful

(Yes, this post is about 24 hours late. Oops!)

As always, I am thankful for so very many things. My life is pretty great. My family is healthy and happy. After nearly 20 years, John and I still laugh together. My kids are three of the greatest people I have ever met. My parents (and cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents!) are always there for me. I have a safe, warm place to live and a car to get me where I need to go. My job is fulfilling and enjoyable, and I genuinely like going there. My kids are having a hard time making a Christmas list because they just don't want for anything. I feel lucky and grateful and happy.

I kind of wondered if my kids felt the same way, so I interviewed each of them to see what they appreciate about their life. Here are their responses....

What are you thankful for?

Josh: Family, friends, Mom, Dad, our house, and money.

James: Mom, Dad, my cousins, my friends, and our house.

Abby: Family, friends, toys, Mom and Dad. Oh, and soft blankets.

I asked them each seperately and without prompting, and to tell you the truth, I thought that I'd get funnier things. Sillier things. But instead, I got a reminder that they get it. They know what's important in life, and that makes me thankful too.

That Sinking Feeling

You know that feeling right? The one you get when you realize you have really screwed up and there is NO WAY OUT?

I have been taking a class for the past four weeks on Wednesday nights. It's a good class, and one that I feel like I needed to take for a variety of reasons, but Wednesday nights in October and November? What was I thinking?? Anyway, the past three Wednesdays have been hectic to say the least. And that was when John was working in town.

For the last class tonight, I e-mailed the teacher and explained about the new job and the commute and said I'd be a little late. She told me what I'd miss so I could make up for it and was fine with me being a little late. I had a meeting after school until 3:45, but I had to get Abby to dance at 4. I left the meeting a little early and managed to leave school (and did I mention that we will be gone tomorrow for ANOTHER tech conference so I had to make sure the sub plans were ready? I know, boo-hoo for me), get to Teresa's, get Abby changed, and get her to dance pretty much on time in SIXTEEN MINUTES. Teresa lives close to school, but still, I was pretty impressed with myself. Also, totally sweaty and frazzled.

We burst in the door of the studio, Kramer-style, drenched from the downpour outside and two minutes late. And that's when my stomach dropped. The walls were lined with chairs. Full of parents watching and filming and photographing their sweet little dancers. Parent watch week. Crap. I either didn't know or totally forgot. I said, and I quote, "OH MY GOD. Is it Parent Watch Week??" Abby looked at me disapprovingly: "I told you. And we don't say 'Oh my God,' Mommy. It's rude." Point taken.

I proceeded to throw her tap shoes on her and slink out of there. But not before thankfully accepting Judy's offer to bring her home. I had no idea when John would be home, but I was hoping for really soon so I wouldn't any later than I already was for class.

I felt HORRIBLE. Really, really bad. Leaving her there with no parent to watch at Parent Watch Week felt terrible. She didn't seem too upset about it, but later when I got home from class in time to tuck her into bed, I asked how it had gone. She said "Judy took tons of pictures, so maybe you can see those. " Knife to the heart.

As for my class? Turns out that huge storm+last minute stuff at work+traffic =Allison is REALLY late for class. Like almost an hour late. (Which means that I could have stayed to watch dance, but I am consoling myself with the fact that I couldn't have known that when I left.) And then, when I snuck into the back of my class, there was nowhere to sit. So I had to go to the front of the room and noisily get a chair off the stack of extras. And then when I sat down, my phone immediately rang because I hadn't even thought to turn it off. It plays the Super Mario Brothers theme song. So embarrassing. It was a terrible, horrible, no good very bad afternoon. Maybe I'll move to Australia.

Bad Role Model

Yesterday, John started his new job. His normal hours will be from ungodly early to early afternoon, which is good because it will mean missing the heavy traffic hours on his commute. Unfortunately, the first day was the HR day. The paperwork, mandatory employee training, tour the other jobs in the business day. And that day is the typical 8-5 shift, which is bad because the worst possible traffic is from 7-8 am and 5-6 pm. Long story short, he got home at 7:30. (He took a detour to the mall. At first, I was grumpy because I would love to go to the mall instead of basketball practice and dealing with a tired girl and chores and homework and blech. But then, I remembered the long commute. In traffic. And the fact that he came home bearing everyone's favorite chocolates from See's Candy didn't hurt either.)

When I got home from picking the kids up after a late meeting at school, we had twenty minutes until we needed to get Josh to basketball practice. I was throwing the ingredients for taco soup on the stove and Abby was in her room listening to music. Suddenly, she threw her door open....

Abby: Hey! Daddy's here!
Me: No, remember he won't be home until late?
Abby: (suspiciously) Well, then why do I smell food???

I informed her that I am perfectly capable of making dinner, but she still looked a little skeptical! I don't seem to be the best role model for domesticity around here.....

No Filter

James is very honest. Very honest. He doesn't get sparing someone's feelings or not sharing his opinions. As a result, he has no filter. AT ALL.

We went to Taco Del Mar today for Family Sunday (free kid's meals!) and were sitting eating in peace when a man sitting right by us started coughing and coughing and coughing. It wasn't a little cough; it sounded like he just might throw up each time, so it was a little disconcerting.

John: (under his breath) It's totally not his fault, but the hacker needs to go!
Me: (laughing) No kidding!

A few minutes passed by.

James: (at his normal super loud volume) Hey, Dad? Why did you say the hacker needed to go?
Me: Shhh, James, geez!
James: What? Dad said it!

He was baffled by our embarrassment. Oh, James......

Maturity

Maturity. Josh is sure getting some. In October, he came home with the news that he had been invited to try out for traveling basketball. We have resisted traveling sports so far for a few reasons. 1) We have three kids and expecting the two who aren't traveling to spend their lives going to their brother's tournaments seems unfair. 2) I think traveling teams for young kids are ridiculous. Parks and Rec teams were designed to give kids access to sports without putting the pressure of try-outs and "making the team" and tournament brackets on 8 and 9 year olds. 3) Our particular child puts a lot of pressure on himself already, and we were hesitant to let him put the weight of his team's success on his shoulders. 4) Traveling can be really expensive, and again, we have three kids.

But. He is 11 now, and his athleticism seems to be sticking around. If he wants to keep playing sports, travelling teams will need to be part of our lives. Boo. So after talking it over, we told him if he wanted, he could try out and participate in traveling basketball this year. To our surprise, he seemed hesitant. He happened to have a counseling appointment on the day that he needed to make the decision, so he worked it out with her. They made a pros and cons list and talked it over and discovered to his surprise and ours that he didn't want to travel. He wanted to play Park and Rec one more year. In Park and Rec, he can play with one of his best friends. He can relax because he is one of the better players on the court. They don't keep official records in Park and Rec, so a win or a loss just doesn't really matter. He was mature enough to realize that this was what he needed.

He had his first game today. The other team only had four players, which is the kind of thing that happens in Park and Rec. It's relaxed, remember? I was a little tense that he would be mad at himself for choosing this option. But, the coaches smiled and shook hands and decided to play four-on-four. There was no talk of forfeit, and all the kids had a great time. He came off the court smiling and happy. He hasn't had one moment of doubt or unhappiness about his decision. When he got in the car, I asked him how many points he had scored. He kind of shrugged and said "I don't know, six? Eight? Ten? Something like that...." and then he smiled and said, "isn't Jordan nice? The kids on my team are really nice guys. And my coach is nice too. That was a really fun game!" Maturity is really paying off for him.

Wrestling

So, James decided to wrestle for his winter sport this year, which took me by surprise. Josh plays basketball, and all of James's friends play basketball. Obviously, James would play basketball, right? Nope! If there is one thing that I know about James, it's that he will always surprise me. I wasn't sold on the idea, but after one single practice, he was hooked. Also, he is really pretty good at it, and has, I've been told by a few people, natural talent. So. I guess we're a wrestling family now.

Wrestling people are a little weird. I'm sorry if you are a wrestling person or know one, but it's the truth. They are INTENSE. The first week of wrestling was "camp." It was four nights of an intro to wrestling, and all the parents lined up on the wall and murmured about how cute the kids were. Even at camp, there were moments (like when James got really hurt and was sobbing, and they sent him right back in for more) that I had to hold onto the bleachers to stop myself from running out, grabbing him up, and heading for the car. And then, then real practice started. The parents aren't even allowed in the practice room, and you can hear yelling and screaming through the door. They are S.E.R.I.O.U.S. about wrestling. The kids wrestle while they are crying from pain, frustration and fear. And no one seems even the tiniest bit bothered by that. But. James is happy and likes it and couldn't wait for his first tournament.

Early this morning, John and James headed over for "weigh-in." He weighed in at 51 pounds, just a few ounces from the next weight class down. If you are our family, you just shrug and say "oh well" and know he will face bigger kids. Other families, though, do not subscribe to the oh well philosophy and were encouraging their 8 and 9 year olds to go to the bathroom, jump rope or strip down naked to get into the smaller weight classes! Yikes!

James is a Bantam, 55 pound weight class. When his rank and weight class was called, he went to the staging area, and my heart starting beating really fast! He was amazing though. His determination and focus are really something to see, and even through nerves and sometimes tears, he gave his all, over and over and over again. He lost his first match, which put him into the consolation half of the bracket. I don't understand the brackets AT ALL. But, when all was said and done and the stands were emptying because so many kids had been eliminated, James was still going. He won all the rest of his matches until he reached the third place match. This, as a result of the brackets I don't get, was as far as he could go in this tournament. He lost the third place match by getting pinned at almost the end of the third round. He was ahead in points, but the pin lost the match for him with just seconds left to go of the match. Which doesn't matter. At all. Because after two club practices and not one bit of experience, he made it to the top of his bracket. I'm not sold on wrestling, but I am sold on that kid! He came home sore and exhausted and covered in mat burns and FINGER MARKS and is ready to go again. He is a pretty awesome kid, and he looks pretty awesome in his singlet and head gear too! Some evidence.....

Long wavy hair and head gear don't play nice together. He may have won some matches because the other kids were scared of his hair?

We get to keep this singlet for the whole season! Lucky us! RDH is either someone else's initials or maybe Respect, Determination, Hard Work? Yeah, let's go with that.

This is a take down. He gets two points for getting the other guy thrown down to the mat and then controlling him once they get down there. He got a lot of points in this match.

Although I do think his backside is adorable in his singlet, it more my angle during the matches that made it so that EVERY SINGLE picture is of the back of him.

Aspirations

In the car today, on the way to lunch:

Abby: Mom, I decided what I want to be when I grow up.
Me: What do you want to be?
Abby: A teacher!!
James: Hey! You stole my idea! That's what I want to be!
Me: You would both be great teachers. You can both be teachers if you want to be.
James: sigh, grumble, eye roll
Abby: (under her breath) See, James!?

We went to Panda Express for lunch since we have the day off from school. We were sitting there eating when Abby sat straight up:

Abby: Mom!! Can you have TWO jobs????
Me: Yes.
Abby: Then I want to work at Panda Express and be a teacher.
Josh: Maybe you could work at Panda Express in high school and then be a teacher later.
James: Can you do that??!??
Me: Sure. I worked at an ice cream shop but now I'm a teacher.
James: COULD I WORK IN AN ICE CREAM SHOP?????
Me: Yep.
James: Forget being a teacher! I want to work in an ice cream shop!
Abby: Yeah! Forget being a teacher! I want to work at Panda Express.

We may need to work on our future goals a little bit.......

Family Pictures

The family picture I have framed in my house is from 2007. No one looks the same. Abby is in diapers, James is just a little guy, Josh is missing his two front teeth (!), I am very blond, and John has hair on his head and none on his face. We were way overdue for some new pictures until I asked my mom to take some pictures of us. Now, if I can just edit them and order some prints before these are outdated too.....

She took tons, but these are some of my favorites:

James

James was struggling at the beginning of the year. There are a lot of education terms for where James is, but it boils down to this: He is just below grade level. And despite a lot of intervention and hard work, he has remained just below grade level. And when reading isn't quite there, writing isn't quite there either.

Second grade is more rigorous than first. More reading, more writing. And that's good! But also kind of not for our family. Homework was a struggle, and for the first time ever, James started to feel like he is just below grade level. Which, quite frankly, sucked. And then he got a 2 on his homework. If you are unfamiliar, 2 means something like "emerging" or "progressing." To a literal child like James, it simply meant "not good enough."

I e-mailed his teacher to set up a conference, and she invited me in the very next day. (Full disclosure here: his teacher is my friend Paige. She reads my blog, but I would be saying these nice things even if she didn't!) We talked, and she really heard my concerns. Even better, she had suggestions and solutions to make things better. She was ready to implement those things right. that. day.

Things immediately got better. Homework is better, his confidence level is sky-high, and he loves school. Paige has followed through on the plan at school, and I have followed through on the plan at home. And a few weeks after our meeting, I got an e-mail from Paige. She had chosen him for the October Student of the Month. (You might remember the whole SOTM debacle from last year--he wanted so badly to be chosen and month after month after month went by without him being chosen. And it sucked.) He got his award on the Friday before Halloween. The look on his face when he realized why I was there to eat lunch with him was priceless.

When Paige gave her little speech about why she had chosen him, she got choked up. It was very sweet, and it me really see that she gets how hard he has been working and she gets that even though he doesn't wear his emotions on his sleeve, it meant the world to him.

Did I mention it was the Friday before Halloween? Which is why the vampire got his award from a marathon runner........

Turkey Feather

All three of my kids have spent at least two years at the preschool that Abby currently attends. There are many things that stay the same at this school, and even though I LOVE tradition, some things are a little tiresome on the seventh time through. So, when the turkey feather came home, I couldn't even pretend to be excited about this "family project." I'm sure you've seen this one--each kid gets a 12" long brown feather to decorate and then they all get stapled around the turkey on the bulletin board. It's due tomorrow, so I drug it out to work on this morning. James spotted it and asked if he could work on it with her. I was hesitant--James plus Abby doesn't always equal sibling harmony--but I was thrilled to turn it over to someone else!

They worked on it for 45 minutes. James was so patient with her, and they were both just thrilled with the product!! It was so sweet to see them working together!

James drew the little heart with Abby's name in it. When I told him I thought it was cute, he said "Well, she is my little sister, Mom. That's why I put the heart." Duh.

October

October just about killed me. Soccer, dance, tutoring, piano, homework, and chores for the kids. Loads and loads of laundry, four days of out of town workshops, a class on Wednesday nights, meetings, and trying to stay on top of the house and work for me. Phone interviews, in-person interviews (which did eventually result in a new job!), running a marathon, and coaching two soccer teams for John. It's been quite a month. I am pretty sure that it will take all of November to recover.

The thing is, blogging is important to me. I love that, finally, I have found a successful way to keep track of my memories. And that I have a (small) audience makes it even better. It's just that in October, something had to give. Actually, several somethings had to give. So, I only blogged four times in October. There is no way to really catch up, but now that November is here and life feels a bit more manageable, I'm ready to start again. In the interest of keeping my memories, here is a short (ha!) summary of the month that almost did me in.....

Soccer: The boys LOVED soccer. They both had great seasons, scored goals and enjoyed hanging out with their friends. I doubt that John will ever coach both boys again, but everyone had fun.

Marathon: The week of the marathon, John got a cold. Nothing serious, but a cold all the same. I would have sacrificed the entry fee, but in so many ways, John is NOT ME. He ran, with a cold, in the pouring down rain. And he finished! I really cannot believe how hard it rained that day, but by the time we got to the finish line to watch him cross, it was stopping. Not helpful for John, but it worked out pretty well for us.

Job: John applied for and got a new job. He is excited for a new opportunity, and although it will be a commute, it should be a good change. (In all honesty, I think that "good change" is an oxymoron, and I spend most of the month stressing out about the insurance and the gas and the different hours. Still, John is happy, so we are happy. And I am finding that if I just relax, details work themselves out. Who knew?)

Neck lump: I had one. I went to the doctor, and she sent me to a specialist to RULE. OUT. CANCER. I totally freaked out and spent days googling lymphoma treatments and making a plan. (Plans always make me feel better.) I went to the specialist, where I was informed that it was nothing. Phew. But, if I should ever need a plan for a lymphoma diagnosis, I should be all set.

Family Pictures: My mom took some pictures for us a few weeks ago. I really plan to blog some of them after I finish editing them. This would be another thing on the list of somethings that had to give in October.

Halloween: Was awesome. It should always be on a Sunday! We went to a party on Saturday night, had a couple too many mixed drinks and slept in until it was time to get the kids. The days was relaxed and laid back, and we all had a good time. We trick or treated with the Denneys and then went to a few favorite houses. I took a grand total of one really bad picture, and I didn't even care.

Eight year anniversary: Halloween marked the eight year anniversary of Josh's diagnosis. Finally, eight years later, it felt kind of like a non-event. We talked about it a little, but mostly, the day just felt like a day. I did take a few moments throughout the day to appreciate modern medicine and marvel at just how far he has come.

Josh: School still isn't great. But, his worry box at counseling is currently empty. I have never seen the inside of the worry box, but the idea is that you put your worries in the box and only visit them occasionally. It has worked well for him, and I am thrilled that it's empty! He also made a sports decision on his own and is happy with his choice to play Park and Rec basketball one more year. He was invited to try out for a traveling league, and although we said he could, he decided it wasn't right for him. He is getting so grown up!!

James: School is great! He loves going, and he is making great gains in his reading and writing. He was Student of the Month for October, and he is just working so hard. He made his own sports decision this year too: he is wrestling. Not surprisingly, he is quite good at it. I have to restrain myself from running out to stop him from getting hurt, but he really, REALLY likes it!!

Abby: As always, Abby loves everything. Her friends, her school, dance, everything. She spent most of October driving me crazy with her non-stop talking and questions. The busier our family gets, the more attention she needs. I am looking forward to being home more so that she can get what she needs.

I hate it when I can't even enjoy the little things because the big things are so overwhelming, so welcome, November!

Pumpkin Patch

September in Pacific NW was gross. Rainy, windy, and cold. But October has been making up for lost time! We've had clear blue skies, cold mornings with bright sunny afternoons, and leaves changing to brilliant reds and oranges. It has been all the reasons that I love fall and more. Thanks, October! We decided to take advantage of both perfect weather and a rare free day and head to the pumpkin patch last Sunday. We had a great time. You might remember from this post that the pumpkin patch doesn't always bring up the greatest memories for us. But, this year, eight years later, it felt better. It felt just right. The kids had a great time, the weather couldn't have been better, and we were all relaxed and happy. The sun was so bright, and we had actually followed through on our plan to get out there early, so the light was not great for pictures. Here's what I did get......

Rubber duckie races. I have no idea what makes this so fun, but James could stand all day.

One of two super fast, super bumpy slides. I love the giant CAUTION sign on the side. Nothing like extremely dangerous play equipment! It looks a litte like Abby is getting whiplash here, but she headed right back up, so it must have been worth it.

Hay maze. In past years, this maze has been super dark and twisty and a little scary. This year? Not so much. They still went through it a bunch of times though.

Hay ride out to the pumpkin patch and corn maze. Josh seems to be plotting an escape here, but I promise he had fun!

Corn maze. It took us exactly 12 minutes. Abby kept saying "We're never going to get out of here!" I guess 12 minutes feels like forever to a five year old......

Obligatory, squinty, badly posed Pumpkin Patch Picture.

Pumpkins everywhere!

Sunflower fields on the way back from the patch.

Abby was the only one who opted to go on the train. It looked really cheesy, but it was really fun. I'm glad that she wasn't swayed by her brothers' lack of enthusiasm!

Eleven!!

At 2:51 this morning, Josh officially turned eleven. His birth day seems just like yesterday and light years away, all at the same time, and although I am sometimes sad at how fast time seems to be flying by, I am mostly just enjoying the person he has become.

Josh is a great kid. Every teacher, coach, and adult he has ever met says just that: "What a great kid." He is kind and sweet and smart and hard-working. He is sensitive and emotional and fiercely loving. His love for his brother is about the sweetest thing I have ever seen. Just as often as I find them wrestling and giggling, I find them snuggled up together, arms and legs intertwined.

I know that we are about to enter into some tough years. In some ways, the tough times have already begun; we've had some big arguments, complete with tears and yelling and stomping to his bed. He is pushing for independence, and we are unsure of how much to give him. Mistakes have been made and consequences have been given. Sometimes, he already feels sure that we don't understand him AT ALL. And yet despite all the pre-teen angst, it is so fun, so amazing to see him grow up.

I admire Josh. He is a great student, athlete and person. I might be a little biased, but I think the world would be a better place if we had a few more people like him. Happy Birthday to my first born, who will always be my baby no matter how many inches he towers over me. I love you, Joshua John!

5 Years

Five years ago today, our world changed just a little bit. Five years ago, we took our last step towards becoming a regular family. Because five years ago, Josh had a short surgery to remove his port. We had gotten a final vote of confidence from the doctors that he was fine. He was good. He was done. He wouldn't need quick access. No chemo. No anesthesia. No weekly blood draws. And that all meant that they were sure there was no cancer. And with that, we could be sure too.

In case you don't know, a port is kind of a built in IV access. It looks like a little spaceship with a tube coming from one end. The day after Josh was diagnosed, he was taken to surgery where the surgeon cut a little pocket it for it just under his skin and sewed that tube into a vein in his neck. It was great because it was beneath the skin, reducing the risk of infection and allowing him to lead a relatively normal life with swimming pools and baths. And so for nearly three years, if you looked closely, you could see a bump in his chest. And if you looked REALLY closely, you could see the tube under the skin in his neck.

We had a love/hate relationship with the port nicknamed "Buddy." We loved it because blood draws, IV chemo and other drugs and even anesthesia could be easily done. A quick poke through the numbed skin in his chest, and we could get down to business. But, we hated it because Josh hated it. For almost two years, he screamed every time he was accessed until one time, he just gave up. And the giving up was just as bad as the screaming. Maybe even worse. We hated it because Josh's clogged up. A lot. And that meant a lot of anti-clotting medicine and a lot of re-accessing. And sometimes, if something important was happening (like 24 hour, precisely-timed chemo infusions) we would have to take him to a special room where at least three adults would have to pin him down while a fourth poked him over and over and over. Buddy made our lives easier overall, but on those days, I really, really hated it.

But no matter how much we might have loved it or hated it, it was a physical, you-can-touch-it symbol of the cancer experience. On a day when things were great and he seemed very much like a normal kid, we would catch a glimpse of the bump or the tube and remember, "Oh yeah, that's right....he has cancer." I have said many times that there was good and bad in Josh's experience. And that port, with its good and its bad, represented everything about it. And today, if you look closely there are two barely-even-there scars on Josh's body and a few more barely-even-there emotional scars on all of us.

On that day, I had a tiny Abby in my arms when John asked the surgeon if he could have Buddy. I laughed, embarrassed, because what a silly question! But the wonderful Dr. B, who had put Buddy in three years earlier, ignored me and said "Of course. I'll have them clean it up for you." On that day, while we waited in the waiting room for nearly an hour too long, my anxiety causing Abby's to rise too, we heard a nurse finally say that despite some complications, Josh was fine, the port was out.

It was hard for us to see the port go. It had been a constant companion for Josh, and he was nervous to have it out. We were too. It turns out that his body didn't want to let it go either--it had begun calcifying around the tube in his neck, trying to hold on. That extra hour of surgery had been used to pry that tube out. And that represents our experience too. As much as we wanted to be done, as much as we wanted Josh to be done, it was pretty hard to let go of the constant reassurance of doctor's appointments and blood draws and being told over and over that everything looked great. It was hard to face the what-ifs. What if he needed medicine and we couldn't get an IV in? What if he needed blood drawn quickly? What if he relapsed? But we did it. We faced the what-ifs head on and headed right out of that hospital that had become a second home.

As we drove home with our very sore little boy, we drove away from the previous three years. We'd be back, for sure. But it just wouldn't be the same. We would be back as one of those families. One of the families who made it through to the other side. John took the port home and made it into first a necklace and then a bracelet. It is a symbol that helps us remember that on this day five years ago, we stopped being a "cancer family" and started just being us.

Well Trained

In the car today....

Abby: Mommy, you know N at my school?
Me: The one who came to your party?
Abby: Yep. She has a boyfriend.
Me: Oh really?
Abby: Yes. It's B. He is so naughty, but she doesn't care. She lets him be her boyfriend anyway.
Me: Hmmm. Do you have a boyfriend at school?
Abby: No.
Me: Good, you're too young for a boyfriend.
Abby: Well, if I get one, I won't let him kiss me!
Me: NO! If you had a boyfriend, don't let him kiss you.
Abby: I won't let him kiss me until Daddy says it's OK.
Me: That sounds like a good rule!

I think the brainwashing is working!!

Birthday Bash (from September 25)

Abby knew exactly what she wanted for her birthday party this year: a park birthday with a pinata. I was happy with the plan because a) it's cheap and b) it's easy. We looked at the calendar and picked a day. We went to get the invitations (princess, of course) and my pant legs got wet half way to my knees to and from the car. I suddenly remembered that we have not had super great weather for the past, say, eleven months. It suddenly seemed risky to have an outside party. Since it was ten days from the chosen date (I am always on the ball with the invites) I checked the 10-day forecast. Rain. High of 60. Grrrrrr.

So, I quickly convinced her that an inside party would be GREAT. She wasn't thrilled, but agreed to have it at the indoor play structure. It wasn't as cheap, but was very easy. Nearly everyone she invited came. There were twenty six kids there, all her favorite friends and their siblings. She loved every gift she got, loved her specially requested cupcakes (yellow cake frosted with pink, purple, green, yellow and blue frosting), loved her treat wand party favors. She was pink cheeked and thrilled. The kids played well, and she was able to be a good hostess. As far as I know, the kids all had fun. When I put her to bed that night, she said: "That was my very best day of my whole life, Mommy." Perfect.

List

I am resorting to a bulleted list. But a bulleted list is better than no post at all, which is what I've been putting forth for the last ten days. Plus, the bullets come out as cute little flowers, so that's not terrible either.

• We are selling the boy guinea pig. John was on the phone with the second vet to find out about neutering (lowest estimate: $120) when we both looked at each other and wondered where our common sense had gone. We didn't want a baby guinea pig. And guess what? We don't have to have one.
• When we told the kids Brownie would be leaving, Abby and James shrugged their shoulders and basically said "Whatever."
• Josh cried and cried. Poor guy.
• We have talked about being a "foster family" to Brownie while he gets big enough to go to his "forever family." Now, Abby's favorite new phrase is "forever family." She really wants us to be one. To a baby girl, of course.
• Abby had a birthday party. It was her dream come true, and it will get its own post. Someday.
• Josh has been hating school. A lot. But, it's growing on him. Being allowed to be a student store manager has helped tremendously. I'm glad because it makes me die a little inside every day that he doesn't like school.
• James loves school. He likes his teacher, his class, and he even tells me about things without prompting. If you ask him, you'll never be able to tell that he is happy with school, but I know the truth.
• John is coaching both boys' soccer teams. Between the two teams, we have a soccer event nearly every day of the week. For seven weeks.
• After a tough practice, Josh had his first experience with a boy saying mean things about his dad. I told him to get used to it because next year, he'll go to the middle school where I teach. Kids generally like me, but I'm sure that mean comments about me and all the teachers abound.
• It is sunny here! After a wet, cold spring and a often cool summer, we seem to be getting a few beautiful fall days to make up for it.
• Tonight, no one will be home until 6:30. Despite the hot weather, we'll be having soup because it can be made ahead of time. The kids, from experiences over the past ten days, will know better than to complain.
• The only way that I can even put together this bulleted list is because it is a blissful Thursday morning. On Thursday mornings, which are now my only full morning home, Molly is here and she and Abby are so happy to be together that they spend the morning giggling and playing and decidedly NOT including me in the fun. I'll leave you with an excerpt of the conversation I am hearing.....

Abby: Molly! I have a GREAT idea!

Molly: What? Tell me!! Tell me!! (Giggle, giggle)

Abby: (whispering) Let's go get pedicures.

Molly: Oh, yes! Let's go!

Abby: Mommy? Can we go get pedicures?

Me: Well, maybe someday, but not today.

Abby: Sorry, Molly. She said no.

Molly: I know. I am sitting right here.

Abby: Really? I thought you were at your house. (Giggle, giggle, giggle)

Molly: (laughing hard) You are so funny. (Giggle, giggle) Oh, Abby, you wear me out!

I love these girls. And I love that sarcasm apparently runs in our family.

A Dozen Things

1) The baby guinea pig is a boy.
2) Boy guinea pigs can..ahem...become fathers at as young as three weeks old.
3) Guinea pigs are not discriminating and will, in fact, mate with their mothers.
4) Even if the mother is still nursing him.
5) Guinea pigs are GROSS.
6) If we have a boy guinea pig in the cage, both of our female guinea pigs will continuously get pregnant. Even if one is HIS MOM.
7) This could result in up to 8 baby guinea pigs per year.
8) Apparently, a male guinea pig can be neutered.
9) It evidently costs up to 200 dollars, if you find someone who is experienced in guinea pig neutering. It costs 40 dollars if you get a neutering novice.
10) Several different weirdos maintain websites about this topic. And even weirder, there seem to be people who are "experienced" at guinea pig neutering.
11) I guess I will be searching for a novice neuterer because there is no way I am paying 200 dollars to keep a guinea pig I didn't even want.
12) If you explain the problem of keeping the cutest, tiniest, sweetest brown guinea pig to your children, one will go to his second grade classroom and, when asked about his weekend in front of the whole class, will say "We found out our baby guinea pig is a boy, and he has to have his own cage or something because otherwise he will impregnate his mom." And then his poor teacher will almost die right there on the spot and quickly gloss over the words "impregnate his mom"by quickly switching to a Spanish day. Thank goodness for a dual language program, huh Paige? (Also thank goodness that my friend Paige is the second grade teacher and could laugh at this a mere ten hours later.)

You won't believe this one

So, as I may have mentioned, we LOVE our two guinea pigs. They are super sweet and pretty easy for the boys to care for. And with the exception of the smell of hay, which I think is kind of gross, the smell hasn't really bothered me much. Oreo is super smooth and soft and a little wilder than Frankie. Frankie is super calm and nice. In fact, she has gotten so calm that she barely even moves around anymore. Also, Frankie is the fattest guinea pig I have ever seen. I've been a little worried about how fat she is, worried that she might be sick or something.

Good news. She isn't sick. Bad news....

Um, yes. That is a BABY GUINEA PIG. A BABY GUINEA PIG THAT WE DIDN'T HAVE ANY IDEA WAS COMING.

This is how it went down:

Josh: MOM!!!!!!!! FRANKIE HAD A BABY!!!!! OH MY GOSH!!!! FRANKIE HAD A BABY!!!!!

(John wasn't here, but the rest of us ran in. I was trying to figure out just what could be in the cage that resembled a baby guinea pig?? And exactly how to communicate to Josh that his dramatic streak is getting out of control????)

Me: OH MY.....WHAT IS THAT? IS THAT A GUINEA PIG??? HOW...? WHAT THE...? IS OREO A BOY??????????

(I called John immediately)

Me: Um, you know how Frankie is so fat? Well, I think I know why. BECAUSE SHE HAD AN ENTIRE GUINEA PIG IN HER!!!

John: Silence

Me: A GUINEA PIG. A TINY BROWN GUINEA PIG.

John: Hysterical laughter.

Me: THIS IS SO NOT FUNNY.

I decided that it was a good time to utilize Google. Search term: How the hell did our two female guinea pigs produce a baby exactly?

According to Google, a pregnant guinea pig will begin to get round around the middle (no kidding) but will not give birth for three months. Which means that we bought a PREGNANT GUINEA PIG at the end of July. Also, according to Google, baby guinea pigs can be handled right after birth and are born with fur and open eyes. It (already named Brownie by Abby....I guess we are keeping it) looks just like a regular guinea pig, just in size extra small. I cannot even believe that something that big came out of Frankie. It is about a third of her size, like if I gave birth to Abby right now.

In retrospect, I can't believe I didn't figure this out. She was sleeping a lot and drinking a ton of water and getting hugely fat in only her stomach. Come ON. I have given birth to three children!

All I can say is that Brownie BETTER BE A GIRL. Because the kids couldn't be more excited. Since she (please, please, let this be the correct pronoun) was born when we weren't home (we think. I suppose that Frankie might be a Scientologist and practice silent birth) it was a serious shock when we saw her, but then they immediately fell in love with her and begged to keep her. Google also informed me how to check the gender, but after reading about how to make the...ahem...identifying parts appear, I decided that the people at the pet store owe us at least that much after selling us a PREGNANT GUINEA PIG. Seriously.