The End is Near

This is not my favorite time of year. The days are growing shorter, the nights cooler, and in less than a week the kids will be heading back to school. Once again summer has passed by far too quickly, and I am not ready to say goodbye. This summer was not one of our better ones. Much of it was rainy, or at least gray and cool, not a nice beach summer, not a nice summer for doing things outside. The lack of true summer weather and beach days made it go by even faster, and I fear our winter will seem even longer.

Our vacation week was a wash. With the exception of one day, which we thankfully spent at StoryLand, every day we were on vacation it either rained or threatened rain. We didn't make it to the beach, had to cancel a day at the lake with friends, it was a crappy week. We made the best of it and have the pictures to prove it, but it certainly wasn't what we had in mind.

Now summer is almost over. As far as I'm concerned, summer ends on Labor Day. Sure there are a few days in September that would be fine beach days, but with two-thirds of my little ones in school the beach doesn't seem so appealing. I would feel guilty enjoying the surf and sand with Bella, knowing that Phillip and Kylie were sitting in stuffy classrooms.

This time of year makes me very melancholy. The relaxing, unscheduled days of summer are almost over, to be replaced by the rush that accompanies the school year. We will rush in the mornings to get out the door, we will rush to get to dance and karate, we will rush to finish homework, get showers, eat dinner, and get to bed at a decent time, so that the next day we can rush through all those things again. I am also melancholy because the beginning of the school year is a very real reminder that my babies are growing up. This year Kylie will be headed to fourth grade and Phillip to first. Where has the time gone?

As much as they fight, bicker, and generally drive me crazy some days, I will really miss those two when the big yellow bus takes them away next Tuesday. I will cry when it rumbles past, taking them away from me for the next eight hours. I will look at the clock throughout the day and wonder what they are doing, if they are okay, if everyone is being nice to them, if they miss me too. Gradually we will settle into the routine, but those first few days my heart will ache for them. I will listen for their footsteps, their laughter, the inevitable arguing, but it will not come. Bella will do a good job of filling the void, but there is only so much one three year old can do to make up for the quiet that ensues when a nine year old and six year old are gone.

Next week I will go back to watching the clock. I will anxiously await the arrival of 3:30, the time when the bus usually returns my two little rugrats to me. I will greet them with hugs and homemade cookies, ready to hear about all of their first and fourth grade adventures. Yes, the end is near, and I for one am nowhere near ready.

Time Flies

I can't believe it has been over two years since I last posted on my blog. I'm not exactly sure where the time went, but I know that it has gone by fast. There was no particular reason why I stopped writing, I guess life just got too busy and something had to go, so it was my writing. I have missed it. Writing here was a kind of therapy for me, even if no one else ever read it. There have been so many things over the past two years that have made me think "I need to blog about that", but then life would get in the way and it just wouldn't happen. So today, as I sit at my desk where I'm supposed to be working, I am re-committing to my blog, re-committing to doing something a few times a week that is just for me.

In the two years since I last posted much has happened. Rob has taken on a new position (with the same company) that kept him busy at work and away from our family for much of late 2006 and most of 2007. Things are better now, but it was not easy on any of us having him work 15 hour days, five, sometimes six, days a week. For the first three months of 2007 he was working seven days a week. Now he has things under control and is home by 6:00 most days. After having him gone so much last year the kids and I certainly appreciate having him back.

Kylie has completed both second and third grades and is doing well. She will be going to a different school this year which will be an adjustment for all of us. It is older than the school she has been in for the last four years, so there will be some definite changes for her. As she has matured she has evolved into this amazingly helpful, conscientious, and responsible child that I never could have imagined from the head banging toddler of six years ago. She is wonderful with her younger siblings, talking them down from tantrums and disappointments, negotiating deals with them when we are seemingly at a stalemate over any given issue. I am so proud of the young girl she is becoming and I tell her that every chance I get. She still has her moments and her meltdowns, but who amongst us doesn't? They usually come when she is feeling tired or overwhelmed, and given a little time and space she can recover in a reasonable amount of time. She still does dance and impressed both her Dad and I at the dance recital this past spring. For the first time in her six years of dance she seemed to be comfortable and know what she was doing. She didn't look off to the side at the teacher for instruction, she didn't look to the other girls, she danced her dances with confidence, grace, and purpose. I suppose that is just another example of how she has grown, not just as a dancer, but as a person. To put it quite simply, she blew us away.

Phillip has both a year of pre-school and kindergarten under his belt and is grudgingly moving on to the first grade in two weeks. He claims he doesn't like school, but I think that's just because it takes him away from home and me, where he is most comfortable. He has grown and matured in many ways, but he is no longer the easy-going guy he started out as. Most of the time he is happy go lucky and good natured, but sometimes when things don't go his way he lets his temper get the best of him. Don't be fooled by the dimples and twinkling blue eyes, he can pitch a fit with the best of them. Fortunately he saves them for home where he feels the most secure, and at school, friends' houses, etc., he is the picture of charm and cheer. For the past year he has been taking karate, and so far at least he wants to stick with it. He is already quite popular with the ladies, and they with him, so mommas you might want to lock up your daughters. Lately he has been very concerned about the clothes he's wearing, his accessories, his hair (he wanted a mohawk but settled for a flat top), and overall looking cool. He's a sweet, funny little dude, and no matter how angry he makes me one flash of those dimples can melt my heart. (Even when I catch him peeing in the litter box, which I did last week! He denied it, but the mischievous grin on his face spoke volumes - as did the huge wet spot in the litter box which was clearly not made by a four legged house cat!!)

Sweet Bella has the world wrapped around her finger. Her hair goes halfway down her back, but it's so curly that the spirals only reach just past her shoulders. She is a comedienne and will do whatever it takes to get a laugh. Her first dance recital was this past May, and while she spent most of her time on stage looking around with her fingers in her mouth, she still looked adorable and enjoyed herself. Kylie was the "junior assistant" for Bella's dance class, and I swear seeing my big girl help teach my little girl just about made my heart burst. Bella talks non-stop and has an amazing vocabulary. She is a true testament to the fact that the younger children learn from the older ones. Lately she has decided that she wants a baby. The other day she brought me a catalog of children's clothing that she had been looking through. "Momma, Momma, I found someting' I want!", she said, bouncing up and down, barely able to contain her excitement. Expecting to see a dress or some other article of clothing that was sure to be a fashion statement for the three year old set, I was instead shown a picture of three babies, two dressed in blue and one in pink. "Momma,", she squealed, "can you order me da baby sista? Please??!! I want da baby sista!!! Call dem, Momma!". Through my laughter I told her that her Dad and I were working on it, we'd see what we could do.

As for me, all is well. Given that I have a great husband, three healthy, beautiful children, and a nice house, I don't really think I'm in a position to complain. Rob and I are still trying for number four and it's frustrating that it's taking so long, but there's not much I can do about it. I had another miscarriage in the fall of 2007. It was a long, drawn out, miserable process that spanned five weeks from the very first spotting to eventual d&c. During two of those weeks Rob was in Germany, which sucked more than words can say. Since then we have been trying for one more, but so far no luck. I'm 39 so I feel like that window is slowly closing, but it is what it is and there is only so much we can do. If for some reason number four is not meant to be, then I will accept that and be happy with the blessings I have. For right now though, I'm not quite ready to concede that point.

So Musings from the Dogpound is back up and running, even if it's just for me. I figure in a 19 hour day I should be able to squeeze out at least a little time to visit here and write something a few times a week. It's my gift, from me, to me.

Bella at One

Our baby girl with eyes of blue,
Rosy cheeks, a mohawk ‘do,
Chunky thighs and dimpled feet,
Fat legs never looked so sweet.
A laugh that makes my heart do flips,
Whenever it escapes her lips,
Busy girl, on the go,
Things to see, people to know.
On her belly she slides ‘cross the floor,
Soon she’ll be upright, running out the door.
Happy girl, she likes to hum,
When she snuggles her Taggie and sucks on her thumb.
Smiling, laughing, screaming with glee,
Just happy to be here, happy to be.
Waving, winking, blowing kisses,
Making her first birthday wishes.
Kylie and Phillip say it often and loud,
Bella’s our baby and that makes us proud.
Our sweet little girl from heaven above,
Precious bundle overflowing with love.
Someone was missing, just didn’t know who,
Thank goodness we found out, Bella, it was you.

"Phillipisms"

Phillip at 4......

• Upon entering the bathroom at the house of our friends (it was a little cluttered and messy): "Hmph, I can see that they don't clean their bathroom!"
• His thoughts on our friend's baby: "Momma, their baby is so cute...she's not as cute as my baby though!"
• Upon discovering there was no coffee to be had one morning: **smacks his forehead with the palm of his hand** "That's it, I'm going back to bed..." and heads for the stairs.
• Three days after my Dad's surgery when the nurse came in to his room and hooked him up to do an EKG while we were visiting: "Momma, when's Poppa gonna light up?"
• Said while playing with Bella: "I love my baby Momma, but if you don't mind I would like a little brother next time."
• Recently when we went to pick Kylie up from my brother & sister-in-law's house: "Well, well, well, just look who's here with Aunt Brenda, it's Uncle Boyd!"
• The other day in the van on the way home from my parents house (said to Kylie following negotiations on what they were going to play when we got home): "Okay Kylie, so we're going to play in the tent and pretend we're camping - are we clear about that?"
• Hollered from the bathtub one night: "Momma, Momma, come here quick! There's something under my tinkler and it has balls in it!"
• Hollered from the bathroom one morning: "Hey Momma, my tinkler's growing!"
• Said to my Dad when he wasn't getting his way: "Poppa, are you trying to make me angry?"
• His thoughts on birth order: "I'm mad at you that you didn't get me out of your tummy before Kylie. Why did she get to come out first?"
• Last week he told me he wanted to be a builder when he grew up. He then proceeded to ask me if he had to exercise to be a builder, and I told him that was probably a good idea because it would help him to be strong. He proceeded to start flexing his muscles and striking different poses. When I asked him what he was doing he said (very matter of factly) "I'm doing my 'Fitness Made Simple' with John Basedow for exercise." (I'm not sure if anyone has seen those commercials, but they run here all the time. While he may not be the ideal target market, obviously Phillip has been paying attention!)

No doubt about it, Phillip keeps me laughing!

TMI

Did you ever read something and as soon as you finished it wished you hadn't? I did, yesterday. I was at work when our computer consultant showed up to do a few things on my computer. Since pretty much everything I had to do required the use of my computer, I found myself with a few free minutes. To fill the time I picked up the issue of the Wall Street Journal that sits on the corner of my desk. Every day at work we get the WSJ and our local paper. While I glance through the local paper from time to time, I seldom look past the front page of the WSJ. For some reason yesterday I flipped through the sections of the paper, scanning the first page of each section - first section A, then B, section C, then D. On the front page of section D, which is the health section, I spotted an article entitled "Doctors Search for Ways to Improve Detection of Dangerous Brain Aneurysms". Since my Mom had surgery to repair two brain aneurysms in 1991 this article piqued my curiosity.

I read the article...then wished I hadn't. I'm not a hypochondriac, really I'm not, but reading the line "evidence is mounting that brain aneurysms are genetic" sent a shiver up my spine. The fact that my Mom had two brain aneurysms repaired before they ruptured is only part of our family history. She also had a nephew who had a brain aneurysm that ruptured, and her father died (before I was born) of a stroke, which could have been caused by a ruptured aneurysm. Clearly this theory that brain aneurysms might be genetic is not a new one. At the time of my Mom's surgery her doctor suggested that all of her children have an MRI around the age of 40 to rule out the possibility that any of us have aneurysms. I knew this, but somehow seeing it in the paper made it more real.

My greatest fear, aside from something happening to one of my children, is that something will happen to me. I can't imagine leaving my children without a mother, just the thought of it brings me to tears. This information alone is enough to feed my fear, but the flames are further fanned by the fact that peripheral vision deficits can be one sign of an unruptured aneurysm, and when I had my last eye exam this past December I failed that test the first time I took it. Of course, I passed it the second time, but still....

I wish I could go back to yesterday morning and choose to do something other than pick up the WSJ. Since I believe that everything happens for a reason, I'm having a hard time dismissing the fact that I picked up a paper that I never read and found this particular article. On the other hand, I'm also having a hard time envisioning myself calling my doctor and asking her to sign off on a thousand (or more) dollars worth of testing for no apparent reason. I'm sure I'm perfectly healthy, I have no real reason to believe otherwise, I'm just a victim of too much information.

Love is...

(My intention was to post this on Valentine's Day, but I didn't get a chance to finish it until today.)

Valentine's Day is nice in theory, a day to celebrate love, who can argue with that? Unfortunately it has been commercialized to the extreme. Instead of love the focus these days seems to be on flowers, chocolates, jewelry, and other material pursuits. Rob and I were discussing the sad fact the other day that of all the couples we know (that aren't family), we don't know many who are truly happily married. I think the premise behind Valentine's Day is partially to blame for that. Too many people think that love is all about flowers, chocolates, jewelry, and endless romance. That's nice, but it's not reality. Love is about what's left when the flowers die, the only evidence that the chocolates ever existed is lovehandles, and the jewelry is left sitting in a box somewhere awaiting a special occasion.

Among other things, for me love is...

• taking the van to the gas station on Sunday afternoon to fill it up so I won't have to during the week.
• coming home from the beach on a hot summer day with sand covered, tired children, to find that when he got home from golfing Robbie vacuumed the house, did all the laundry and put it away, then having him offer to bathe the kids and take us all out for milkshakes after.
• helping me clean up Kylie's bed after she threw up all over herself in her sleep, without being asked.
• sharing a sweet Kahlua cigar under a sky bursting with stars on a February night when the thermometer is hovering around 8 degrees.
• calling from work, hearing a demanding preschooler, an overtired infant, and a wiped out wife, and saying "don't worry about dinner, I'll bring something home for all of us".
• buying a strawberry cheese croissant when you're on a diet and hiding it in your wife's briefcase so she'll find it when she gets to work.
• calling on the way to the airport at the start of another business trip, and leaving a message on my cell phone thanking me for being a wonderful wife and mother, and reminding me to take care of myself while he's gone.
• calling me at work just to make sure I made it there safely.
• coming downstairs after putting the kids to bed to find a glass of wine waiting for me in the kitchen.

Love is about the stuff that happens when you least expect it, when nobody else is looking. It isn't always as pretty as a bouquet of flowers or as sweet as a box of chocolates, but it grows, endures, and whether given or received, is the most precious gift there is.

My Funny Valentine

Kylie's teacher recently asked each of her first graders to write a poem for Valentine's Day. This is Kylie's:

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
My dog smells,
And so do you.

That's my girl...