Dear Saxon Math,

I hate you and I hope you die.

Really.

Slowly and painfully.

Much like the problems in your fourth grade books.

First of all no 9 year old needs to do 30 problems of math every night.

Secondly, some of the children in your word problems can be named Mark, Emily, Jacob, or Sarah. They do not all need to be T'Marra, Shunsuke, Shakura, and Jin (all 4 names directly from tonight's homework assignment).

Thirdly, the little grids on the papers you send for homework to be done on leave a great deal to be desired. Like space. If you are going to ask a question in 3 parts a fourth grader is going to need more than a 2" by 2 1/2" square to do their work, write the answer, and explain their reasoning.

a. T'Marra knew that her trip would take about 7 hours. If she left at half past 9 in the morning, what time would she arrive?

b. If T'Marra traveled 350 miles in 7 hours, then she traveled an average of how many miles an hour?

c. Using your answer to part b, make a table to show how far T'Marra would travel at her average rate in 1,2,3, and 4 hours.

Yeah, that's all going to fit in a 5 square inch box in the massive hand writing of a newly cursived 9 year old. Especially the table.

If you asked him how many buses were needed to transport 116 students, 8 teachers, and 13 adult volunteers (again, chaperones would be fine) if each bus holds 40 passengers and his paper looks remotely like this:

116+8+13= 137
137/40=3 r 17
4 buses

why for the love of all that is holy does he have to "Explain his answer" again?! He gave you the answer. You can see the steps he took to get there. I do not see the point in writing a paragraph (again in your tiny square full of math facts) explaining how he came to that conclusion.

Heaven forbid he gets sick. 3 days off school means 90 problems to make up on top of the 30 more you're going to give him each night. If he was so ill he only managed to complete 1 assignment in the 3 days he was home sick and he gets another full page each day to complete at home and he has 3 1/2 hours to do his work and he spends 1 hour 18 minutes on Science and Social Studies and 42 minutes on Grammar how many days will it take him to make up the crap load of work you seem to think he needs to make him a functioning member of fourth grade society?

Explain your answer.

               All of the Math problems from tonight's post are taken directly from #1 Son's Saxon Math book with the exception of the terribly clever one 2 paragraphs above. This is not reflection on how I feel about homework in general nor about #1 Son's teacher who is assigning the work she is required to teach. 

The glimmer is becoming a full blown glow.

It's been a wicked bad summer. A summer I hope never to repeat.  But things are looking up.

One thing I hadn't mentioned here is that when I was in the ER with BabyGirl I called Husband to tell him her arm was broken.  He had news for me.  They're shutting down his department at work and he would be losing his job in 6 months or so.  Now to be clear he wouldn't be without a job. He could transfer in the plant where his seniority would take him, but that could mean a serious cut in pay and hours.

Today he interviewed for a new position at work and much to my surprise, they've already called and told him he got it!  I think the pay will be comparable to what he's currently making and it is in a much quieter part of the factory than he was expecting.

He will probably be losing the overtime he's been working since BabyGirl was born, but what I'm making will cover that.  I truly believe God put me in the job I'm in fill this gap.

In other wonderful news- #1 Son's 10 days of blood sugar readings were so good the doctor said we could stop checking.  I called the office and asked after looking over our log & realizing nothing on it came even close to the numbers we were worried about.  And on top of that, his rash that caused the diabetes scare in the first place, is nearly gone.

Yesterday was a tough day at work.  I was worn out and discouraged when I got home.  It was one of those days when nothing went as planned and we spent the entire day trying to get caught up.  Today was the polar opposite.  Today was a day that should have been difficult and drawn out.  It was not at all.  It was easier than expected and things went very smoothly.

Today I feel like I can breath.  Today I know that the good can outweigh the bad. Today I can praise God with a happy heart instead of praising Him in the midst of heartache.

This Summer needs a name.

A name that denotes all manner of evil.  A name that tags it every more as a summer not worth repeating.  A name that leaves no doubt as to the horribleness of it.  I'll open up the comments to suggestions.

We started off good.  I had a new job to look forward to.  We had our first 4-H fairs to attend.  We had a swimming pool, heat, and sunshine.  And then things started going south...and not in the I-get-to-go-south-to-visit-friends-and-family kind of way.

First Grandma M&M discovered the colon cancer she battled 36 years ago was back.  Waiting and waiting and waiting finally gave way to a date for her to have surgery.  May 29th she went in.  Things went well.  Recovery was going to take a long time, but she was going to be fine.

The next morning found me in the doctor's office in pain.  That afternoon I was on the operating table.  It wasn't the appendicitis nor the appendectomy that was the hard part.  It was the 6 weeks of recovery after abdominal surgery that knocked me down.

In the meantime, Grandma didn't recover as quickly nor as well as we thought she would.  She went to a nursing home to recover.  Mama shuttled back & forth between the two of us and in the process hurt her foot.

Then I ended up in the hospital for a longer stay and still don't quite know the cause.  Colitis is not something I'd wish on my worst enemy and something I hope and pray is not recurring in my case.

Just over a week ago #1 Son began complaining about his under arms itching.  When I looked at them I discovered he had brown, scaly patches under his arms.  He's very prone to skin issues so I told him to use the cream our doctor has prescribed many times in the past.  After a few days they turned red & raw. I told him to leave the cream alone and we'd show the dermatologist when he goes on the 17th.

Monday showed we couldn't wait for the 17th.  He was in so much pain he couldn't lower his arms.  Thank the Lord the dermatologist had a cancellation that afternoon.

I willingly admit I didn't want to go.  I hate the drive.  I hate dragging all 4 kids that far to spend 3 minutes in an office with a nurse practitioner (nothing against the NP- she's really good).  But I was beyond unprepared when she suggested his skin issues might be caused by diabetes.

Yesterday we went to the hospital for a fasting blood draw.  The tech took an extra vial of blood in case the doctor decided to have an A1C done later.  I'm glad she did.  His blood sugar was 105- only slightly elevated.  The doctor's office wanted to wait 3-4 weeks and do another draw.  I told them to order the A1C.  They did.

Today we got the call that his A1C was 5.7.   Normal is below 6.  Now doc wants a finger stick every morning for 30 days to see what we're looking at.

To be entirely honest, I am not handling this well.  I can be sick.  I can have surgery.  I can spend my summer recovering from what ever.  But not my son.  He cannot go through this.  He cannot spend time worrying and fretting.  He cannot be scared and uncertain.  These things are not OK with me.

I know he will be fine no matter how the test come out.  I know that the changes that may be necessary will not be the end of us.  I know that we can deal with this.  But right now I'm done.  I'm over it all.  I'm sick to death of worry and fright and sickness.

I am ready for this summer to end.

This was not a part of the plan.

Husband has to work today. The FarmHands have all their homework done. I planned to clean house....the big stuff like scrubbing the kitchen floor, reorganizing my closet, baking cookies (OK, so that's not actually cleaning). Instead I get to take #1 Son to the clinic at the hospital to have his ear checked out.

He & BabyGirl had tubes put in 3 1/2 years ago. BabyGirl's have fallen out. One of #1 Son's is out. Now he's bleeding from the remaining tube. This is not good.

Would you care to pray for him and his mama today? Thanks so much.

Charlie the Cat: an Essay

Haw I tack care of my cat Carley.

I feed him ones a day.

My bruthers dog chases him.

I watr him ones a day.

By #1 Son. Second grader extraordinaire.

I only wish I could add in his reversals. All of his F's were backwards as were all the S's at the end of words.

I love getting these papers back. They make my day.

The Day's Not Looking Good...But This Book Is.

Today has started out less than stellar. Husband works late most nights. He normally collapses into bed at either 2 am or 4 am depending on his shift. That means the later the FarmHands sleep, the better Dad sleeps. I let the FarmHands stay up late last night (10:00) in hopes that they'd sleep in a bit this morning. When will I learn? #1 Son woke me up at 6 am because his ear hurts.

I hate it when the kids have earaches because I know just how horrible that pain is. It's been more than a year since we've had #1 Son's tubes checked. I didn't realize that until he started complaining about his ear last night. Now I'm worried that his tube is blocked or has fallen out. So far, he's not run a fever. That's a blessing...but I don't want him to hurt.

Husband has to work a full 8 hour shift today as opposed to the 6 hours he normally works on Saturdays. When he works 6 hours, he goes in early & gets home early. I pack a few sandwiches for him to eat on his 10 minute breaks. Since it's an 8 hour shift, he'll need an actual dinner to eat. With the prospect of taking #1 Son to the walk-in clinic, that leaves me little time to make lunch/dinner this afternoon. Since I was up at the crack of dawn, I decided to get things done early. At 8:02 am I took a finished Potato Pizza out of the oven. That's one task down, 800 to go.
All this after reading far past my bedtime. QM brought me Angie Smith's book I Will Carry You when she was up here a few weeks back. If you've never heard of Angie, a good place to start is with her blog: Bring the Rain.



Art & I were discussing books last night and I told her I was giving up on Howard's End (just cannot get through it) and thought I might start reading Angie's book. I should have put more thought into it. Angie chronicles her journey through her pregnancy and the birth of her daughter Audrey Caroline. Audrey was born with several birth defects that were "incompatible with life." She lived 2 hours before going to be with Jesus.

I haven't even finished the book and I can HIGHLY recommend it. It is heartbreaking. It is beautiful. It is inspiring. It is something no parent should ever have to go through, but many, many do. And it left me weeping. Not the gentle tear or two that may trickle down your cheek as you read something poignant. I'm talking about a deep, gut wrenching, swollen eyed, stuffy nosed, sob. I had to repeatedly put down the book to compose myself before reading on.

That being said, you still must read this book. Just make sure you have a box of Kleenex handy.


Now I'm hoping the day will level out & further tragedy can be avoided...or at least a nap snuck in somewhere.

Why do we bother?

When #1 Son was three years old, he decided to change his name to Larry-Boy. For months he would answer to nothing else. Eventually he grew out of it and went back to #1 Son. It didn't bother me too much. At least he didn't do what his Uncle Bubba did at the same age.

Bubba changed his name to Michael Jackson Finklestein (not our actual last name) when he was three (this was back when Michael Jackson's most controversial move was the crotch grabbing dance he was famous for). He refused to answer to the name our parents had so lovingly picked out for him. He introduced himself to everyone as Michael Jackson Finklestein. He went so far as to refuse to sing Jesus Loves Me in front of the church with his Sunday School class one morning. Instead, he snatched the microphone out of the stand & belted out Beat It...twice...until his teacher had to remove him from his spot by the mic. I thing Grandma M&M tried to hide under the pew that day.

Eventually, QM had enough and shut him on our enclosed porch until he'd tell her his real name. It went something like this:
Bubba- (knocking on door) LET ME IN!
QM- Who is it?
Bubba- IT'S ME! LET ME IN!
QM- "Me" who?
Bubba- ME! MICHAEL JACKSON FINLKESTEIN!
QM- I'm sorry, I don't know anyone by that name. You must be at the wrong house.
Bubba- LET ME IN! I LIVE HERE!
QM- Who are you?

It was very Alice in Wonderland.

Caterpillar: Who... are... you?
Alice: Why, I hardly know, sir. I've changed so much since this morning, you see...
Caterpillar: No, I do not C, explain yourself.
Alice: I'm afraid I can't explain myself, you see, because I'm not myself, you know.
Caterpillar: I do not know.
Alice: I can't put it any more clearly, sir, because it isn't clear to me.

Eventually, Bubba caved and told QM his given name and was allowed entrance into the house.

Princess fell in love with a little boy named Billy when she was 3. She informed us that when they grew up, they would get married and her name would be Princess Billy. Eventually that morphed into Princess Ba-wiv-a-buff (a very odd mispronunciation of her middle name) Billy Willy Finklestein. To this day, we call her Bill.

Bitsy has followed in their footsteps. I've called her Bitsy Bee since she was tiny. Bee started off as a shortened version of her middle name, then turned into only the first initial of that shortened version (confused yet?). It stuck. Everyone calls her Bitsy Bee now. But this week, she's added to it. She has decided her name is now Bitsy Bee Coconut. Why Coconut? I don't know. Possibly because she had coconut scented shampoo. Possibly because she's just nutty.

I'm beginning to think that if we were to have a fifth child (NOT HAPPENING) I'd wait to name him/her until he/she hit their third birthday so he/she could have his/her say in it. Then again, maybe not. The last person I met who was allowed to name themselves at a young age has Axl as a middle name....yeah, as in Axl Rose.

Today is gonna' be the day....

That #1 Son plays his first game of t-ball.

Actually he's already done playing. It was so much fun! We nearly froze since a cold front came through last night bringing 60 degree weather & a pretty strong wind, but the kids didn't seem to mind.

There wasn't a single instance of someone running to third base instead of first, so I guess all that practice paid off. #1 Son was the catcher first inning, covered 3rd base second inning, and hung out between 1st & 2nd base for the third & final inning. We play last batter, meaning everyone gets a chance to bat during each inning. #1 Son did a good job batting & he loved catching. I think he got a bit bored during the other 2 innings. We had to remind him a few times that he needed to be standing up, not sitting on the base line.

I've decided I need a t-shirt that says, "Proud T-ball Mom to the kid sitting on third base playing in the dirt!"

BabyGirl had a brief (but rather public & dramatic) moment when she didn't want to be there, but when I told her she could go sit with her friends, things changed. Eventually she wandered back to us & even dug into her egg money to buy herself some popcorn. Much to my surprise, she bought a bag for B.B. & Bitsy to share, too. I was very proud of her. Her Uncle Little BIL was so proud of her, he gave her a dollar so she wouldn't be out any money....that she then spent on a Dr.Pepper.

Bucka & Busha came with Uncle Gick to watch the game as did Little BIL & his wife, And Chair (as Bitsy calls her). #1 Son had his very own cheering section. Bitsy loved the game. What's not to love about sitting on old wooden bleachers, being encouraged to yell "Go! Go!" at your big brother, and eat your very own popcorn?

Oh. My. Goodness.

I know, it's been a long time since I posted twice in one day, but I'm going to pop if I don't share this one immediately.

My baby brother (Bubba) just won the Best Uncle of the Year award by having Optimus Prime call my boys. The real life, honest to goodness Optimus Prime. The Optimus Prime from all those cartoons we watched in the 80's & the movies that have made millions over the past 5 years. Yeah, that one. He's at MTAC tonight.

Not only did Optimus Prime call my boys, but he called them by name. He talked to them for about 2 minutes telling them how excited he was to be able to call them, asking them what they were doing tonight (when they told him they were watching Avatar, he said that was one of his favorite movies), and ending up with, "I wish I could talk to you longer, but I have to get back to Cybertron. I have work to do. But first, #1 Son & B.B., I need you to do something for me. Can you do it? Transform & roll out!" I only wish I could have gotten it all on tape. Their eyes were the size of saucers & they were practically vibrating with excitement.

I had them on speaker phone & Bitsy started jumping around the living room yelling, "Hi, Op Pwime! Hi, Op Pwime!" Because she was so excited, she was practically squealing, he said, "Is that a puppy, or one of you?" Since we hung up the phone she's told me 15 times that Op Pwime called her. Then she brought me a plastic potato chip from her play kitchen & wanted me to eat it. I said no thank you & she said, "Op Pwime eat my chip!"

They cannot wait for Daddy to wake up in the morning so they can tell him.

And yes, this made the dork that lives deep down inside me very, very happy not only because my brother did something so very awesome for my kids.....but also because:


Optimus Prime called my house!

OK, in truth, Bubba called & put him on the phone, but please, do not harsh my mellow!

Deep Breath in.....

Hold it....and Exhale slowly.

Tomorrow we enter the world of competitive sports. T-Ball to be precise. This is our first foray into team sports. #1 Son decided to play this summer.

Actually it started a few months ago when Husband picked out ball gloves, bats, and balls for the three oldest FarmHands. I was unexpectedly caught up in a swirl of tee-ball, summer, ball diamond, pitch & catch, so much fun, wait 'til we can play, etc., etc., etc. Silly me thought he planned on signing the kids up for summer leagues.

The kids & I discussed it when they brought home the info sheets from school. Husband was suddenly unsure. I was confused. I thought that was the entire point of all the goodies purchased. Turns out, he was thinking more of playing at home than playing on a real team. In the end, #1 Son was the only one who really wanted to sign up & play. B.B. decided he'd watch this summer & possibly play next summer. BabyGirl flip flopped so many times, we decided she should spend a summer watching as well.

Tomorrow is #1 Son's first practice. One hour at the ball diamond at school to meet his team (mainly kids from his class & the kindergarten class), meet his coach (the mom of one of his buddies), and collect our schedule for the season.

I never played team sports. To be honest, baseball bores me to death. But #1 Son needs an outlet. He needs to participate in something with other kids his own age. He needs to see that you cannot expect to be perfect at everything the first time you try. He's a bit sensitive & gives up entirely too easily. I'm hoping the sight of his class mates missing a catch or not hitting the ball each & every swing will be enough to instill that in him.

Maybe I'm expecting too much. I am hoping to see at least one child run to third base instead of first. I know that's not too much to ask.

Things I've learned about boy bits

First, and most importantly, please pray for my Bucka this week. His sister, my great-aunt M, passed away early this morning. She's the last sibling he had living that was near his age. His 2 youngest siblings are still alive, but they are nearer in ages to his children than to him. He's going to have a very hard time over the next few weeks.

And now back to your regularly scheduled blogging.

B.B. is scheduled to have surgery next Wednesday. He's pretty apprehensive about the whole deal. I would be too. The biggest issue is that he's asking the wrong people questions. BabyGirl is trying to make this as terrifying as possible for him. His biggest concerns are shots & stitches both of which his sister informs he'll be getting in abundance. I've repeatedly assured him that he will be fast asleep before anything happens. He's not sure I'm on the up & up.

Last week he started asking more specific questions, so I told him more of what was going to happen. After I finished describing the procedure* (in 5 year old friendly terms) things went down hill. # 1 Son informed him that, "Some people call testicles 'balls' because there are 2 little balls in there."

So B.B. informed me that, "I think this is happening because I have these 2 balls in here & they keep gettin' knocked together."

Next he told me, "I'll be really glad when this is all done, Mom. That way my penis won't get all big & stick up all the time."

Whoa. Um. Yeah. I explained that this surgery didn't have anything to do with his penis sticking up. "Why not? I don't like it when that happens."

I said, "Sorry, Bub. That's just what penises do."

Then his brother chimed in with the true, scientific explanation for erections. "Penises just do that because they get all full of pee, B.B. That's why it gets little again after you pee." Oy. I tried to explain that it has more to do with blood than pee, but that nearly caused a panic. They were both convinced they'd be peeing blood from now on. I don't think we're ready for this conversation just yet.

Today I went in to the school to explain to the principal why B.B. was missing so much school lately & what we had coming up (I love having a school small enough that the principal takes an interest in the lives of all his students). I told him I didn't want them thinking I was flaking out & just not bringing him. He thanked me for keeping them in the loop & expressed his sympathy for B.B. ("Poor kid!"). Then I headed off to let his teacher know what was going on.

Miss G (who taught the 3 oldest FarmHands so far) said she wondered what was going on. Last week she asked #1 Son what was up with B.B. since he's missed so much school lately. #1 Son told her, "Oh, he's just having trouble with his penis." To say she was caught a bit off guard may be an understatement. Miss T (who's been the pre-K teachers aid for almost as long as Miss G's been the teacher) asked #1 Son the same question not knowing Miss G had already breached the subject. #1 Son gave her the same blunt answer.

After school today I said, "So, Miss T, I hear you got the low down from #1 Son on his brother's issues." She started laughing. I said, "That's #1 Son for you," but they don't know the half of it.

*Orchiopexy for anyone interested.

Cutelittleboyspellswhat?!

#1 Son was lucky to have inherited his grandfather's spelling skills. His Pa is a natural speller...as is his mother. #1 Son's mother, on the other hand, was not gifted thusly. She inherited her mother & her father's father's lack of skill in spelling.

First grade spelling has been a breeze for him. He only ends up taking one final spelling test or so a month having aced many of his trial spelling tests earlier in the week. This week, things were a bit different. He missed 7 words on his trial test Thursday assuring his need to take the final test today.

This morning, Husband & I were helping him study after breakfast. We stressed the "wh" sound because it was used in 3 or 4 of his words today. "Remember," I said, "if your word starts with the 'Whu' sound, it's a W & an H." He took the words to heart.

He only missed one word on his final test today: yours. It's kind of a tough one to sound out. He spelled it W-H-O-R-E-S.

Yup.

I called his teacher & asked what exactly she's teaching her first graders in spelling (I can do things like that....she was BabyGirl's teacher, I'm her room mother, & she goes to church with my Grandparents). She laughed so hard. "I know, I know," she said, "I read that & had to work really hard to not react to that one!"

As Inkling would say, Oy.

A much needed reprieve

I was supposed to take #1 Son to see the ENT for his 6 week, post surgery check-up today. It's an hour & 20 minute drive. It meant taking BabyGirl & #1 Son out of school an hour early & taking all 4 FarmHands for an appointment that would take about 45 seconds. To top it all off, I have a head cold & would much rather spend the day wrapped in blankets reading on the couch while the FarmHands watch videos & live on Pop-Tarts.

When I got home from picking B.B. up from school, Husband was standing on the porch with the phone in his hand. "It's Dr.S's office. They want to know if you can come early." EARLY?! They're an hour & a half away! No, I can't come early! He shrugged & handed me the phone.

The nurse explained that Dr.S had an add on surgery this afternoon & it would interfere with our appointment. I was beyond frustrated by this point. Then she looked at #1 Son's chart & said, "Is this just his post-op follow up?" Yeah. "Is he having any problems?" No. "None?" None at all. "OK, that's great. You don't need to come in at all. If he develops any issues, call us & we'll get him in, otherwise, there's no need for you to bring him in."

Thank you, Lord for small graces!

Up Hill Climb

We've had a tough couple of days on the farm. #1 Son is still feeling pretty bad. He hasn't eaten much since his surgery on Wednesday. It's a struggle to get him to drink. He's still in a lot of pain. I was hoping he'd be on the mend by now. It's tough to watch my happy boy lay around & be miserable.

On top of his misery, I came down with a cold Friday night. I'm feeling better now, but it's not easy to take care of a sick child & three healthy ones when you just want to sleep continually.

School starts this week. Part of me is so very ready to send 3 of the 4 FarmHands off to spend at least part of the day somewhere else. The other part of me is worried about how I'm going to spend three hours a day with only one child in tow. I'm sure I'll figure it out. I'm pretty sure I'll figure it out quickly & soon be wishing B.B. could spend 4 hours a day at preschool instead of just three.

Now if only I could dig my house out from under the chaos that has arisen since my knee was re-infected, and VBS started, and #1 Son had his surgery, and I got sick....anyone want to loan me a shovel?

Poor kid

Please pray for #1 Son today. He had a good night, but he's quite a bit of pain now. He doesn't want to swallow which is exactly what he needs to be doing most! I've given him his pain medicine & he's napping at the moment....but I think this could be a tough day for my little guy.

Tonsils no more

We've been home from the surgical center for about an hour now. Maybe a bit more. #1 Son is resting on the couch with an ice pack on his throat. He did really well with his surgery. It took him a while to get fully awake (he still may not be) & he was kind of funny in the mean time.

He got sick once in the truck on the way home, but we were prepared. He got sick again after getting home, but since then has been doing good. He just polished off a popsicle & asked for Kool-aid. I told him to wait a few minutes & see if the popsicle stays down.

We are armed with a bottle of antibiotics & a giant bottle of Tylenol 3, so he should be a happy guy!

Now the trick is keeping the other three from pestering him to death & make them stop screaming, "It's Not Fair!" every time their brother has a popsicle. Husband's offered to take their tonsils out too, just to even things up. So far there are no takers. I'll let you know if anyone changes their mind.

Ice Cream! We're Gonna' Eat Ice Cream!

Anyone who grew up listening to old Bill Cosby LP's will remember Tonsils. I've had the bit running through my head since about 10 o'clock this morning. #1 Son is having his forcibly removed on August fifth at a yet to be determined hour of the morning.

When he had his last sore throat (June 5th), Doc called his tonsils "impressive." Not really a word you want to hear in relation to lumps in the back of your child's throat. Today BabyGirl & #1 Son saw their ENT for a follow up on their tubes (2+ years & counting!) and I asked him to take a look at #1 Son's throat at the request of our Doc. The ENT agreed that they need to come out. We battle sore throats way too much around here & #1 Son snores like an old man.

At the moment he's thrilled with the prospect of ice cream & Popsicles for days on end....but he doesn't really know the full story. I think that can wait for a few more weeks.

Luckily Pa was there to help at the appointment. Pa had his tonsils removed when he was about the same age #1 Son is now. He reassured the little man without scaring him at all...BabyGirl, on the other hand, is determined to terrify her brother if possible. This should be fun. :P

Life continues

I'm pleased to report that Sunday morning came & #1 Son was feeling good again. Yesterday the doctor's office called & said they were calling in a script for antibiotics because he tested positive for parainfluenza. I said he was better, no fever, no sore throat, but they still want him on antibiotics. I'm leaning towards not giving them to him....he's completely symptom free & was within 48 hours of getting sick. I really don't want to give him unnecessary antibiotics.

BabyGirl enjoyed her birthday Saturday. I cannot cope with my baby being 8 years old. It does not seem possible. She got a new fishing pole & a tackle box & was happy as a clam about it. I'm pretty sure she'd spend all day casting & reeling if her daddy was around to take the fish off the hook for her.

As to Andrew's death, the kids are handling it very well. They mention him from time to time. They comment that it's just not fair that he had to die. They tell me they miss him. But there have been no tears recently & they usually go back to what ever they were doing fairly quickly. I think Lilly May & I are taking it the hardest. She sniffs around the place his kennel used to sit & seems confused by his absence. I saw his kennel sitting out in the shed this weekend & it broke my heart a little more.

The kids have tried to convince me that we need a new inside dog, but I disagree. Husband suggested a cat, but I think I'm allergic & I recall the vet bills the last time we brought a farm kitten in the house (YIKES!!!). So for now I'm happy with Lilly & she's plenty.

The day after & the day before

It's been a bit easier today. I'm still sad. I still miss Andrew, but I don't feel as raw & exhausted as I did yesterday. Yesterday all I wanted to do was sleep. BabyGirl had a really hard time going to bed last night. In the end, she & I cuddled in my bed & talked about life, death, God, heaven, and sin for 20 minutes or so. I'm pretty sure she's blaming Adam & Eve for the death of her dog. Today she informed me she wants a chihuahua for our next house dog. I told her I didn't think so.

Today, I keep listening for him to come out of his kennel. I keep waiting for him to start barking when ever Lilly May does. I've glanced under my computer desk a time or two expecting him to be lounging by my feet. There's a big empty space by the kitchen table where his kennel sat. At the store today I kept telling #1 Son we needed to get dog food for Andrew & Lilly. He kept reminding me that Andrew was gone.

Husband painted the cross he & the FarmHands made yesterday. Tomorrow I'll put Andrew's name & dates on it.

This morning, we got up, got dressed, and loaded the FarmHands up to go to the Children's Museum in Effin'bill for BabyGirl's birthday (tomorrow). We made it almost 15 miles from home when #1 Son started moaning & yelling that his stomach hurt. Thinking he was constipated, we stopped at Burger King to use the bathroom. When he came out, I realized he was very pale & covered in goose bumps. It wasn't cold at all, but he was shivering. I asked him what all hurt & he said his belly & his throat. When I told Husband, we opted to make a grocery/birthday present run & head home.

When we got home, his temp was 101.7, so I called Doc's office. They could see him in an hour.

The quick strep test came back negative, but the longer test won't be back until Monday. Right now we're just treating him with Tylenol & praying this passes before anyone else gets sick. Doc did say #1 Son's tonsils were "impressive." I have rather large tonsils, so I've never paid them much mind. Doc asked if #1 Son snores & I said yes. He wants our ENT to take a look at them when we see him in July. He said they're so large, they could cause sleep apnea. Ugh.

So tonight, he's crashed out on the floor watching Indiana Jones while I bake BabyGirl's birthday cake for tomorrow. I'll be shocked if she sleeps much tonight.

The dangers of life in the sticks.

It's really hard to stay alive around here. We're always fighting for survival.

18 months ago, Bucka was attacked by a bad skunk. It left horrible scars all down the length of his chest. He spent weeks recovering & months in rehab to get back to his old self.

A year or two before that, the children & I were chased down the road by a pack of vicious hyenas. We only escaped by luck & our 2004 Astro.

Just this week, Bitsy was attacked by a lion. Luckily she walked away with only a few scrapes on her knees.

I think we need to move somewhere safer.

**(Please don't panic. None of these things are true. Bucka had open heart surgery & B.B. decided it was a "bad skunk" attack. The hyena thing was entirely a figment of #1 Son's imagination....he was obsessed with the Lion King at the time. And I'm not sure where Bitsy came up with her lion story, but she does have skinned knees & is roaring at anyone who asks her what happened.)**