tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12749851428399428392024-03-13T08:24:55.626-07:00two special kidscorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.comBlogger99125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-48017098397727919752010-02-12T21:12:00.000-08:002010-02-12T21:42:12.985-08:00Time for a beer<span style="font-family:Arial;">Sometimes I wish Moms could just call a personal timeout. Just to be fair, we should have this priviledge every quarter (although I'm sure we would all be much better moms and wives if we had this opportunity on a weekly basis). Anyway, when we call "timeout", a Supernanny-type figure would whisk into our home, play and entertain the children (without electronic devices such as a TV, Wii, or Nintendo DS) AND clean up after US. Today was just one of those days that I wished for a personal timeout.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437591884702142530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/S3Y1AnE30EI/AAAAAAAAAbw/DS64-PMkCmw/s200/054.JPG" border="0" />Unfortunately, Jo Frost did not enter my home and give me respite. Above is the picture of my kitchen at 8:30 tonight. A dirty crockpot on the counter with caked on spaghetti sauce. Dinner dishes stacked in the sink. Tortellini package in the other sink. I dare not even go into detail about the other counter. Let me just say, we had eggs and hashbrowns last night for dinner and I had not yet cleaned the stove and counter.</span> <div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">Back to my day. It started out with a young man crawling into my bed at some middle of the night hour. Unfortunately it was only Mason. I didn't feel like getting up, walking him back to his room, tucking him back in, and arguing with him...so I let him stay. The only condition was that he couldn't move (so that I could get him to fall back asleep). His idea of "snuggling" is to have at least one of his body parts touching you. Luckily he fell back asleep rather quickly - only to be followed with his "mild" (ha ha) sleep apnea snoring. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437593751927590786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/S3Y2tTCHD4I/AAAAAAAAAb4/QtC84SI9dVw/s200/002.JPG" border="0" />When my alarm went off, I quickly showered and got ready for work. After preparing breakfast, lunch, snacks, and cleaning the table, it was time to go to school. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">Let me take a quick break for two small points:</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">1. Today is the day before mid-winter break, which means Valentine's day parties at school.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">2. Mark is out of town.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">3. The kids and I leave for Dallas tomorrow morning <span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:85%;">(where they received 12 inches of snow yesterday).</span></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">Back to the morning. As we are exiting with lunches, backpacks, coats, and the beloved Valentine's cards, Lauren takes the opportunity for a quick "check list". Mind you, it was nothing even about today. It was in preparation for the airplane. Did I pack her Nintendo DS. I quickly advised that I had (well, since I had). Unbeknownst to me, I must be frequent tall-tales teller. She raced to her bag to verify. She didn't see the DS in her travel backpack. WIth her anxiety climbing quickly, I turned a 180 and marched to the backpack to show her that YES, it was in the bag. UGH. </span></div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div> </div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">After dropping everyone at their respected educational facilities, I went to work. Good day. Had to leave early to get to Mason's class party (as I am the class photographer). The party was fun. Great crafts, games, and even crazy dancing. Mason's first station was the cupcake decoration table (shocking). He started to eat it, but the music station started. He couldn't wait and calmly finish his cupcake - he had to bolt to the dancing (since it was to Alvin and the Chipmunks). He eventually finished his cupcake, danced a bunch more, and played a very brief game on valentine's bingo (frankly, I think the very sweet mom in charge of bingo picked his words, so he could finish bingo more quickly and head back to dancing). At this point, Mrs. Hallock, his wonderful teacher advised him to go to the card-making station. He agreed without a fuss (I'd tried getting him over there 3 different times already). He made the quickest valentine's card ever (and messiest) and returned to dancing. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">After his party it was back to Lauren's school. We waited for her with Zoe (the dog) in the car. Since we drive two families home on Friday, I really wasn't in the mood to play "share Zoe", as she is flung between the middle and back rows, so I chose not to pass her around. After dropping off the kids, we drove Lauren to sibshops. After dropping her off, Mason & I headed to Mom and Dad's to change the cat litter. Lovely Zoe took this opportunity to have an accident on the floor. After clean up, we headed back home to dump off the diarrhea-dog. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">Scruffy Mason was due for a haircut, so we zipped to Hair Masters. Next was QFC for "Stolpa snacks" (as Meghan calls them) - rations for the airplane, because I refuse to pay $5 for my kids to each have a few crackers. We came home, had dinner, gave Mason a bath, went back to pick up Lauren and two other kids from sibshops, drop off two other kids, and head home. Once home, I hurried everyone to bed. In the process, Zoe had another episode of the rrhea, which Lauren proceeded to step in and scream at the top of her lungs. As this was going on, I was in Mason's room trying to fix the closet doors (and yelling in the process due to frustration) that he had knocked off the track. I finally had the doors in a somewhat safe position (but not back completely on track). Lauren had hopped to the bathroom and was now crying. Why? Because I yelled at Mason for breaking his closet doors. I really wasn't in the mood for snuggling at tuck-in time with anyone, so I hurried everyone to bed. Lauren stops me to verify that I would forgive Mason (of course). </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">With everyone in bed, now the dogs are barking. I can't let them in the house as I need to decontaminate the area of the accident, so I lock them on the deck. Now, I can finish up a few things before I sit down to catch up on Thursday's shows: sweep the kitchen, mop, wash the dishes, load them into the dishwasher, clean the stove and counters, vacuum, fold laundry, start a new load of laundry, clean up Mark's side of the garage (since he's coming home), get the kids DVD's for the plane, pack Mason's pulse oximeter........and drink a beer. Where is Jo Frost when I need her?!</span></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-43497091477507616572010-01-02T20:55:00.000-08:002010-01-02T22:17:41.384-08:00Perpective<span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">According to Webster's, 'perspective' refers to "the capacity to view things in their true relations or relative importance". Too often in life we forget to have perspective or to look at things from an alternate point of view. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">I work at a large pediatric office. We have multiple offices in the area and have over 50 physicians. Our main location is open 365 (or 366) days per year. Yes, even on Thanksgiving and Christmas day, we are open. When I started 6 1/2 years ago, patients were more than appreciative that we had access to nurses and doctors over the weekends. We were thanked routinely for being available. Times have changed. Take the following three examples:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">1. Last weekend I was literally yelled at for taking under 3 hours to return a call regarding lab results. Why did it take almost 3 hours? The lab had to finish processing the blood before we could call with results. The mother did not care that the lab had to finish processing the sample - she wanted the results NOW (despite the fact that the results would not have altered her daughter's treatment). </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">2. A few weeks ago a parent was angry that we couldn't refill her son's ADHD medication. First, we do not have access to charts (our charts are not on-line - they are paper and reside in the patient's "home office"). Second, most ADHD/ADD meds are "Schedule II drugs". According to the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration, Schedule II drugs are drugs with "a high potential for abuse", "are accepted in medical use with severe restrictions", and "may lead to severe psychological or physical dependence". Think amphetamines...after all, that's what many ADD/ADHD meds commonly are! Third, they could have called on any day between Monday and Friday for a refill. And, fourth, the only problem they will have is a child with increased distractability and hyperactivity (and for only 1-2 days).</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">3. Today, I had a father call, concerned about his child's symptoms. </span><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">The 7 year old had a fever of 99-100 for less than 24 hours, cold symptoms, and a cough. The patient had albuterol and was using it as needed. He had no wheezing, no shortness of breath, no retractions. He had a cough. At this point, we had no appointments left. I triaged the call according to protocol. Based on his symptoms, etc., home management was recommended. The child had no symptoms warranting an urgent care or E.R. visit, or even a visit at our office. The father was concerned, as his child was born at 32 weeks gestation (let me remind you, the child is now 7 years old)! He then stated he was in the parking lot and demanded an appointment. I discussed the case with the on-call doctor, who agreed that an appointment wasn't necessary, but agreed to fit the patient in at the very end of the day. By this time, the father was standing in the waiting room with his child. The child was in no apparant distress. I offered them the appointment...to which they'd have to return 3 hours later. Guess what? Viral. No treatment done in our office. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">I worked the day after Christmas. We saw over 200 patients and had 130+ calls. We were fully booked by 11:30am. It was BUSY! I also worked today (the day after New Years). We saw over 200 patients and had 120 calls. We were fully booked by around 1:00pm. It was also BUSY! </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">Mid-morning today, a 9 month old was seen for vomiting x 4 hours. No fever. No diarrhea. Urinated prior to the appointment (so no signs of dehydration). Exam was normal, other than the vomiting - there was nothing on exam that would have indicated anything other than a stomach bug. Patient was sent home to monitor and push fluids. Had the mom called to talk with the nurses earlier this morning, we would have given them home-care advice (as vomiting for 24 hours without other alarming symptoms or signs of dehydration is not a cause for worry). </span><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">Just a few hours later, the parents called back. I spoke with the mother who indicated her child continued to vomit all clear fluids, was acting lethargic, and no longer making eye contact. I immediately sent them to the E.R. for evaluation. The patient's status now? She is at Children's in the PICU on a ventilator. She had seizure-type activity, which was determined to be a stroke, as a result of a brain tumor (tumor was diagnosed this afternoon). Prognosis is still to be determined, but is not good. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">Patients call and complain. Sometimes they have a valid reason to complain, but many times they do not. Some simply need reassurance. Some need common sense. Some need education on the basics of illnesses. And still there are others. Those who feel as if life revolves only around their family. Those who feel entitled to immediate responses from nurses and doctors (regardless of the issue). Those who don't care that a more critical patient warrants our help first. It is to those parents to whom today's entry is written. Those are the parents who need to view life from someone else's eyes. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">This is why my title today is perspective. Within less than 7 hours, a 9 month old goes from being "perfect" to having a brain tumor. No warning whatsoever. Perfect yesterday. Today, may not survive. I could go on to generalize perspective into all areas of life, but I won't. My message is not to tell you to live in fear. My post does not mean that I will embrace EVERY action of my two special kids (and in fact, stay tuned, as I'm sure they will be driving me crazy tomorrow). My post does not mean I will be thankful for Mason's medical issues (because at this moment, his pulse oximeter keeps alarming). My post does not mean I will be thankful for Lauren's anxiety issues (because I'm not - it breaks my heart). Instead, my message is simple: Tonight, tell your child you love them. Give them an extra snuggle time. Say an extra prayer. Be thankful for your children - even the things about them that drive you crazy! </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">And, if you are the parent waiting for a nurse or doctor to call back (unless of course, symptoms are life threatening), please be patient. Instead of becoming frustrated, ask yourself - is it possible that the nurse or doctor is caring for a patient whose needs are more urgent?</span>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-40842045646060412822010-01-02T20:32:00.000-08:002010-01-02T20:55:25.252-08:00Disclaimer<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">It's been MONTHS since I've posted anything on my blog - some of you have noticed. Some have not. You see, this past April while on vacation, I posted about events while on a trip with extended family members. That post was found offensive, despite the fact that specific names were not "named". Due to the conflict that ensued (and passive-aggressive behavior from the offended party), the post was removed and I decided to cease blogging on this site. I posted routinely on caringbridge, as well as facebook. During my hiatus from blogspot, I have had friends comment that they actually missed my updates - yes, even the sarcastic posts. To add to that, some of those same family members who criticized my posts, encouraged me to start blogging. One of those family members even delivered a newspaper article which toted the benefits and possible financial gains from blogging. Hmmmm. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">That said, in 2010, I have decided to resume blogging, as time allows. I hereby give you my 2010 disclaimers: </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">1. Read at your own risk - I am choosing to exercise my rights of the First Amendment. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">2. Events discussed will be truthful, unless otherwise noted. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">3. I apologize in advance if I have offended you - My goal in writing is not to offended, but to discuss incidents of my life and day, which often involve family and friends. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-4186012739337126112009-04-23T17:11:00.000-07:002009-04-23T17:21:02.010-07:00Fun with Lauren<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SfEF03HLbVI/AAAAAAAAAbk/nPCsW5f3P1g/s1600-h/166.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328046239861402962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SfEF03HLbVI/AAAAAAAAAbk/nPCsW5f3P1g/s200/166.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">I've been here with sick kid(s) since Sunday. Husband has been out of town since Sunday at 6am (before Mason's illness was evident). Today I sent Mason to school. Sure he was wheezing, but hey, they have his albuterol at school too! He hasn't had a fever in over 48 hours and technically, he could have gone to school yesterday. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Lauren on the other hand had a fever of 101 this morning. So, she and I hung out today. We went to the doctor. She was diagnosed as "viral". After the doctor and the orthodontist, we came back home and she wanted to watch T.V. She chose 'on demand'. No problem. So, I snuggled with her on the couch and took control of the remote. Pretty much I held her hostage while I turned on various 'on demand kids' shows for her enjoyment. Here's what we watched:</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">1. Kids Karaoke - The Ants go Marching (sang Karaoke)</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">2. Blue's Clues (of course I was answering Steve when he asked his questions)</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">3. Barney (sang along with him)</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">4. Baby Boost Hebrew with your infant (practiced my Hebrew)</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">5. Baby Boost Italian with your infant (practiced my Italian)</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">6. Hip Hop with Nikki (laughed at her)</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Lauren was in hysterics, rolling on the ground in laughter, as I was enthusiastically chiming in with each show. After just 1-3 minutes on each show, I gave the remote back to her and let her watch her own program. Aren't I kind? She was able to watch her on-demand show for only a few moments. The school nurse called and we had to pick up Mason early from school. </span></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-39607986204595072812009-04-20T20:29:00.000-07:002009-04-20T20:49:18.057-07:00Lethargy can be a blessing<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/Se0_2r8I65I/AAAAAAAAAbc/BpqRNVkUTlU/s1600-h/004.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326984142989618066" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/Se0_2r8I65I/AAAAAAAAAbc/BpqRNVkUTlU/s200/004.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Sometimes lethargy can be a blessing. Take yesterday and today for example. Yesterday Mason was LETHARGIC. Probably the "best" lethargic I've seen him. Didn't eat until dinner time (yogurt & a nutrigrain bar) and I had to push fluids all day. He watched 6 straight hours of movies. Today he perked up a bit (temperature of 103.1 this morning & 102.7 this evening). We took a field trip to the doctor, Home Depot (I needed a landscaping item), Bartells (for Mason's drugs). So, in the midst of all this, I decided to take advantage of the weather and get to work outside. It was time to get my vegetable garden going. Yesterday I worked on just the veggie garden. I pulled weeds, raked, filled it with more dirt, then planted! Then I put up landscaping edging (cedar things). We started most the vegetables from seeds - walla walla onions, lettuce, chives, cucumbers, peas. My tomato plants died, so I had to buy some 4-inch tomatoes. I was a gardening fool! All the while, Mason was on the couch watching T.V. I'd check in on him every so often and make him drink fluids, take his temperature, or give him albuterol. Lauren went to a baseball game for most of the afternoon. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326983640505278418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/Se0_ZcCiX9I/AAAAAAAAAa8/VFoiw0vhtsA/s200/001.JPG" border="0" /></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">This afternoon Lauren came home from school sick too. UGH! Fever of 102.4, etc. So, the duo laid down on the couch and watched a movie together. Mason went to sleep at 6:10. He actually ASKED to go to bed (a rarity around here). Lauren went to bed early too. So, after they were in bed, I headed to the front yard to start weeding and raking. Then I put new labels on the plants (that hopefully won't fade this year). I also had to dig up plants that didn't make it through our cold winter! I only got a small portion done since it got dark. Anyway, even though we don't want to be stuck with sick kids...sometimes it can be a blessing in disguise!<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326983809384888162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/Se0_jRKkt2I/AAAAAAAAAbM/Kio4XMV1sZs/s200/006.JPG" border="0" /></span></div></div></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-34923563730853345382009-04-18T20:40:00.000-07:002009-04-18T20:54:50.386-07:00T-ball Rules<div><div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I try to plan my schedule around important kid events. I go to almost every field trip. I even went on one last Wednesday. I've missed (I think), 3 field trips since Lauren was in preschool. 2 were because Mason was in the hospital (surgery, illness, or something). For those two field trips, my Dad went on one and Mark went on the other. The other one was because there was a drawing to pick the parents and I lost. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">About a week and a half ago we got the t-ball schedule for games. The first one was today. And, I was scheduled to work. Which meant, I couldn't go! So, I explained to Mason why I couldn't go, and of course he was fine. We practiced t-ball yesterday after school with throwing, hitting, and catching. For a while he wanted me to pitch for him (and I'm not the best pitcher)and he actually hit the ball twice!<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/Seqf3mK3oSI/AAAAAAAAAak/_dwV0BzL1ac/s1600-h/mason+at+tball2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326245286806790434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/Seqf3mK3oSI/AAAAAAAAAak/_dwV0BzL1ac/s200/mason+at+tball2.jpg" border="0" /></a> </span></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/Seqf-kLyF-I/AAAAAAAAAas/95fCtaSZAHs/s1600-h/mason+at+tball3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326245406532835298" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/Seqf-kLyF-I/AAAAAAAAAas/95fCtaSZAHs/s200/mason+at+tball3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Anyway, today was the first t-ball game. They are the Giants - hilarious for the shortest kid on the team. They wear bright orange baseball caps and shirts. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Here are t-ball rules, as I understand them:</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">1. There are 2 innings</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">2. Every batter hits at each inning - and they bat until they hit the ball.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">3. Each batter runs one base after they hit - except when the last batter is up, everyone runs around the bases to home plate.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">4. There are no outs (even if you're out)!</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">5. No one loses (it's always a tie).</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">6. It doesn't matter if you miss the ball or run to the wrong base...everyone cheers for you.</span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326245525716843810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 88px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SeqgFgLdvSI/AAAAAAAAAa0/js5NJEs25s4/s200/mason+at+tball.jpg" border="0" /> <div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Mason loved it. He told me all about it and can't wait for the next game. I wonder if he'll notice the difference between t-ball rules and "real" baseball when we go to the Mariners game tomorrow.</span></div></div></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-37476515056260665612009-04-17T19:48:00.000-07:002009-04-17T20:05:52.222-07:00Mason antics<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SelDdBrZ5NI/AAAAAAAAAac/dl01BLcdEl8/s1600-h/156.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325862200288077010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SelDdBrZ5NI/AAAAAAAAAac/dl01BLcdEl8/s200/156.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">On Wednesday night, I'd had it with Mason. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">First scenario: Lauren exited the house to the garage, to retrieve her backpack from my car. No problem. Problem was that Mason followed her and got INTO the car. When in the car he likes to buckle himself in the driver's seat, turn on lights, pull down the turn signal and turn on the washers (which don't do anything UNTIL you turn on the car). Anyway, Lauren ran inside to tell me that Mason was in the car. I ran out to the garage and couldn't see him. Where was he? HIDING under the dashboard from me. When I retrieved him, he was giggling!</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Second scenario: Children were tucked into bed. Mason got out and complained about a tummy ache. Not the kind of tummy ache I had assumed. Do you know why? It was a bruise on his belly (from practicing diving at the pool that day) and he wanted a bandaid for it. So, I band-aided him and sent him back to bed. A few moments later the phone rang. It was Melissa (who was in the hospital for dehydration), so I chatted with her for about 3-4 minutes. As I left my bedroom and passed Mason's room, he was no longer in bed. And, he wasn't in his room. Lauren peeped up and said she thought he went upstairs. I opened the door to upstairs and heard NOTHING. As I walked up the stairs I stated "you have to the count of 3 to get down here or your bedroom door will be shut". 1-2-3. NOTHING. As I reached the top of the stairs I saw him. He had been hiding INSIDE the sliding cabinets in the very back. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Forward to Thursday morning. I was talking with the kids about my tomato plants. We'd started them as seeds and I had just put them outside a few days earlier to prepare them for planting. Unfortunately, the first night, the temperatures dropped to freezing. In April. So, I was explaining that the tomatoes were most likely dead, but I was hoping they might come back to life. Mason's response (without missing a beat) was "Mommy, they can come back to life like Jesus". Then, on the way to school he was singing He Reigns by the Newsboys. Only, he doesn't say hallelujah. He sings the chorus like this: 'Holly-hoo-haw Holly-hoo-haw he reigns'. Adorable.</span></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-64925007210877025682009-04-17T19:10:00.000-07:002009-04-17T19:43:20.592-07:00Control the pet population<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/Sek8xR5rb4I/AAAAAAAAAaU/vfHDbL--O4U/s1600-h/009.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325854851658903426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/Sek8xR5rb4I/AAAAAAAAAaU/vfHDbL--O4U/s200/009.JPG" border="0" /></a> <div><div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">There are times when I really feel that almost every family should have some sort of pet. There are other times when I envy those families who do not have a pet...especially a dog. Today would be one of those days. </span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Little Zoe just hit the 6-month mark. That means it's time to be a responsible pet owner, and as Bob Barker says, "have your pet spayed or neutered". So, I took Zoe to the vet yesterday to do just that. Last time I had a pet spayed was 6 years ago. It was fairly straightforward and Maggie recovered in no time. This time was a whole new ballgame. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">I did my research into the cost of "fixing" a dog. When Maggie was spayed, the Humane Society had low-cost clinics to control the pet population. Now, however, the low-cost spay/neuter clinics are only for those who qualify. We don't. Anyway, the price ranged from about $160 to well over $200 for the <strong>standard</strong> procedure. I also learned that there were a few options to the procedure. Did you know that there is more than one way to spay/neuter a pet? I am going to list a few of the standard vs. optional "upgrades" for your viewing pleasure. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Standard "scalpel" spay: $189.50</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Upgrade option to a laser surgery: $29.50 (they claim that it's an easier recovery with less bleeding)</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">I.V. hydration: $79.50 (again, this is optional)</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Tooth extraction: Don't remember the price quote, but this was to remove any remaining baby teeth</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Microchip: $25.50 (this is now offered at ALL surgical procedures)</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Cone: $14.50 (to prevent the pet from licking the incision site)</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">So, when you drop off your dog, you then "check the boxes" indicating which upgrades you'd like (if any). The things they don't tell you about are the medications for going home. That came to a total of around $16 more. Zoe also had an umbilical hernia (which we knew would be fixed at this time). Total came to only $55 for that. Luckily, the pulse oximeter monitoring was free...or I might have opted out of that too!</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325854563296181026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/Sek8gfqpeyI/AAAAAAAAAaM/uPuYOAvAQa0/s200/228.JPG" border="0" /> <span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Zoe pulled through the surgery just fine. She has quite a few external stitches that will be removed in 2 weeks. I wrote my check and picked her up last evening. She ate dinner and slept through the night. This morning she went out and went potty - but only a small amount. I gave her her morning doses of 2 pain medications as prescribed (and as paid for). Then I offered her food. She refused. A little later, she took some food that I hand-fed her and drank some water. After that I took Mason to school, then Lauren to school. In a 2 hour period of time she vomited, had diarrhea, and was shaking. Back to the vet again. This time the diagnosis was for dehydration. </span><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Here's today's<strong> actual</strong> fees:</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Exam: $44.75 (excuse me, but this is all related to yesterday's surgery...shouldn't the exam be complimentary?)</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Injection of 50cc of fluids: $25.25 (under the skin in the neck....it IS cheaper than an I.V.)</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Injection of anti-nausea meds: $25.95</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Antibiotic: $14.75 (just in case there is a post-op infection)<br />Probiotic packets: $19.50 (to help with the stomach issues)</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Special food: $4.78</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">All for a grand total of $93.94. So, I wrote my check (AGAIN), and took Zoe back home after about 45 minutes in the vet. Guess what? About 4 hours later she perked up. She was walking around the house. Ate a little food and water (and kept it where it belonged). She even tried to run (but I had to stop her as she's not supposed to right now). So, to sum up...for a few hundred dollars YOU too can be a responsible pet owner and control the pet population! Or, perhaps it would be a wiser decision to invest that money. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">As a side note, Zoe traveled with us to Palm Springs. If you follow the rules, the cost is $100 each way to put your pet under the seat in front of you. Oh, and you also have to have a note from the vet to document they are healthy (again, for a small fee). Now, we followed the rules on the way down. It was our first time traveling on a plane with a pet, and it was close to spring break. I didn't want the chance of them "catching us" and preventing us to travel. Anyway, NO ONE looked at the vet documents. NO ONE touched the dog. The only thing they did was collect $100 from me! So, could someone please explain to me WHY one should pay to put a carry on bag (that happens to have a pet) under the seat in front of you? I couldn't explain it either, so we skipped the official process on the way home. Guess what? NO ONE looked. And, Zoe was quite the entire flight. No whining, whimpering, or barking. No accidents either! </span></div></div></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-22556700554342579752009-03-29T13:29:00.000-07:002009-03-29T13:42:55.532-07:00Upstairs<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/Sc_cqFqrXYI/AAAAAAAAAZs/x_pzQ5CAi1I/s1600-h/008.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318712300581641602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/Sc_cqFqrXYI/AAAAAAAAAZs/x_pzQ5CAi1I/s200/008.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/Sc_ckhtDAkI/AAAAAAAAAZk/6ElBjaiwYdI/s1600-h/004.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318712205028557378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/Sc_ckhtDAkI/AAAAAAAAAZk/6ElBjaiwYdI/s200/004.JPG" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">The upstairs is "usable" now. <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/Sc_cVJRPLEI/AAAAAAAAAZc/QR5mNxfRZOI/s1600-h/007.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318711940771425346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/Sc_cVJRPLEI/AAAAAAAAAZc/QR5mNxfRZOI/s200/007.JPG" border="0" /></a> The windows and screens are in, walls are painted, trim work has been painted, lighting is finished, extra heaters are installed, t.v. is on the wall, and "junk" has been moved back upstairs from the garage. The desk might even be ready to install tomorrow (or at least I'm crossing my fingers). The desk will be at the "back" of the room, behind the couch, under the angled ceiling (which was where the old ceiling was). We gained a ton of floor space. It's amazing! </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">The kids have now been let back upstairs to play. They were ecstatic to play with the things that have been stuck in the garage for 6+ weeks. Lauren even convinced Mason to play dress up with her (and she even dressed him)!<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318712695878033426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/Sc_dBGQroBI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/eP_lEPzbwY0/s200/002.JPG" border="0" /></span></div></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-89938837823776583382009-03-24T18:06:00.000-07:002009-03-24T18:55:36.552-07:00Murder?<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Murder? Some might say it was. Some would say it wasn't. Me...I think it was an honest mistake. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Today was pretty much like all the rest. Take Mason to school. Take Lauren to school (via a quick stop to Starbucks). Come home. Work on Lauren's school auction stuff. Clean a little. Pack a few things for the upcoming trip. Go to Mason's school and pick him up early to go to the doctor (just a cold right now). Stop at Bartell's. Go back home. Go pick up Lauren. Come home. Let the dogs outside. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">When I went to let the dogs back in (so that I could then take Lauren to piano...then Mason to t-ball), there was something furry on the deck. And it was moving slowly. I ran to let the dogs inside. But, Zoe (all 3 pounds 15 ounces of her) had IT in her mouth and was shaking it. When I opened the door, Zoe put IT down and I quickly barked instructions. Lauren (and yes she was shrieking) locked Maggie in the crate in the garage, while I locked Zoe in her crate. I went to evaluate IT. IT was a tiny wild bunny. And it was still alive and slowly moving. When it moved, it's back legs looked broken, but it was still breathing. Wanting of course to rescue it, I called the vet who gave me the numbers for a few animal rescue facilities. I grabbed an empty shoebox, put a junk towel in the bottom of it, picked up the bunny with another towel, and placed it in the box. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Now the dilemma was WHEN to take the bunny to the wildlife rehab place. Lauren's piano was in 15 minutes. So, there was no time. Between Lauren's piano and Mason's t-ball is 40 minutes (which is barely enough time to get home, eat dinner, and leave again). After t-ball meant it'd be close to 7pm. So, I took Lauren to piano and Mason and I came back to check on the bunny. I opened the box and i</span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">t was just as I had left it, but not breathing. It had died. There was no external bleeding, so my unofficial diagnosis was internal injuries and shock. So I had to dispose of it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Knowing that I had some time consuming tasks, it was McDonalds drivethru for dinner after piano lessons. While the kids ate, I started the decontamination process. First, Maggie. I donned by big boots and a pair of gloves (to keep my hands kind of warm). I tied her up to the deck and gave her a good outdoor bath. Lauren was my go-to girl who kept bringing me warm water from inside. Second, a good toothbrushing. While outside, I also hosed down the deck. Third, Zoe. She's easy and can be washed in the bathtub (since she doesn't leave mounds of hair everywhere). Fourth, brusing Zoe's teeth. Last, but not least, a good mopping of the kitchen floor (lest any bunny germs have been tracked through).</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Now, back to the first sentence. Was it murder? The problem is that I don't know HOW the bunny ended up on our deck. It's possible it hopped. It's possible one of the dogs carried it. What I do know, is that Zoe was shaking the bunny just like she plays with her stuffed cat or duck (which are both the exact same size the bunny was). I'm going to vote that it was bunny-slaughter. </span>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-31864058799561481152009-03-17T20:51:00.000-07:002009-03-17T21:28:40.570-07:00The house<div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">A few months ago, Dad told Mark and I and Alli and Jay that we could each "have" some money from his mother's estate. The purpose was to use this money to do something to the house. In other words, it was not to pay bills or buy new clothes. But to use it towards something permanent. </span></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScB1uVQw39I/AAAAAAAAAX0/tmt_JN7Ad5Q/s1600-h/craigs+list+004.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314376999139074002" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScB1uVQw39I/AAAAAAAAAX0/tmt_JN7Ad5Q/s200/craigs+list+004.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314377213958908354" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScB161hzacI/AAAAAAAAAX8/Qob4DdNZ9ZU/s200/all+005.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">The bummer is that </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">there are SO many things we could do, so it was hard to decide. </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">We finally decided on having our upstairs playroom ceiling raised. </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">We literally had 4 feet in the center of "walkable" space. The sides came down abruptly. One side had sliding doors filled with storage (our only storage in the house). The other side we just lined up toys and TV against the ceiling. Here are two before picture (yes it was a mess). To make the space more interesting, I painted the entire room sky-blue and stenciled sunflowers and a picket fence (on the sliding doors) before Lauren turned 1. My sister helped do the clouds to finish off the room. </span></div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">The bid for adding a dormer came in within the budget we were given on a Wednesday. The following Monday the construction started. <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScB3Cril4gI/AAAAAAAAAYU/BiqLNcVyZgU/s1600-h/all+011.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314378448228442626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScB3Cril4gI/AAAAAAAAAYU/BiqLNcVyZgU/s200/all+011.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScB4MZlUPcI/AAAAAAAAAY0/RAU8N9chYeg/s1600-h/all+037.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314379714718350786" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScB4MZlUPcI/AAAAAAAAAY0/RAU8N9chYeg/s200/all+037.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="right"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScB2zC5qjFI/AAAAAAAAAYM/TCVgKgd9HlM/s1600-h/all+037.JPG"></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="left"></span></p><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">First, the ceiling was essentially removed. Next, new beams were added on the inside. The frame was built inside the house so when the side wall was removed, the frame could go up quickly. Unfortunately, during some of this process we had snow! </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314374408633340178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScBzXi4EURI/AAAAAAAAAWk/Bsh0Ow8U8bU/s200/all+020.JPG" border="0" />Next the outside siding was put on and then the window was added. Next came the drywall and "mud". Tomorrow starts the texturing of the wall and the priming. </span><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScB3i7qnM4I/AAAAAAAAAYs/IO-TF_RAmRI/s1600-h/020.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314379002312864642" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScB3i7qnM4I/AAAAAAAAAYs/IO-TF_RAmRI/s200/020.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScB3Y00g1RI/AAAAAAAAAYk/iC9ZSphe8Tc/s1600-h/054.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314378828676650258" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScB3Y00g1RI/AAAAAAAAAYk/iC9ZSphe8Tc/s200/054.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">The last things to finish are the lights; the paint; and the desk. Paint has been a pain in the rear. So far, the patchwork of colors I've tried upstairs. Color, to be determined!<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314374628893767858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScBzkXaPuLI/AAAAAAAAAW0/OTA4_mg1WxQ/s200/071.JPG" border="0" /></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-15937639204919525912009-03-17T20:30:00.000-07:002009-03-17T20:50:52.966-07:00That time of year<div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScBsYZI3fsI/AAAAAAAAAVM/MQ4eHkQr7Dg/s1600-h/k.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314366726617923266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 106px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScBsYZI3fsI/AAAAAAAAAVM/MQ4eHkQr7Dg/s200/k.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">It's that time of year. Baseball season! First, let me start by saying, I am angry at Ken Griffey. Not just irked. Really, quite mad! Why? Well, to start with, I brought my computer all the way down to Palm Springs for the sole purpose of purchasing tickets to opening day (April 14th) for the Mariners. Tickets went on sale at 10am. At 10:02 (literally), Meghan was on-line seeking our tickets. We were trying not to be too picky, but wanted to avoid last year's opening day fiasco of sitting by the fireworks (too loud for the kids) and being hailed, rained, and snowed on. So, the search began. Meghan kept getting "bounced" out on the computer. So, I tried too. Then I called Ticketmaster. The first time once I had a live body to talk to, I was disconnected. Next time, I was told there were NO seats available for 2 people to sit together (let alone both families). There were literally ONLY single seats available. While we did joke about just buying the seats and keeping eyes on the kids (wherever they were sitting), we figured we probably couldn't get away with that. And, frankly, how could I in good conscience ask them to make sure Mason didn't run away or choke. So, quite discouraged, we accepted the fact that neither of us would be going to opening day. And, it's all Ken's fault!</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Now, on to people I do like today. Mason. It was his first day of t-ball!</span></div><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314369674259273218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScBvD99VFgI/AAAAAAAAAVU/c9YJhUynsbw/s200/009.JPG" border="0" /></p><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">I expected the worst. I envisioned him running to and fro and quitting when he was bored. Well, apparantly he had his listening ears on. He did GREAT! His little group of 4 kids rotated through catching/throwing; fielding; and hitting (while the other little groups rotated through the other positions too). He loved it. He thanked me over and over again for letting him go to t-ball. He listened to each coach and followed their instruction. It was adorable. His team is called the Giants (how appropriate for these little preschool and kindergartners). He goes to practice again on Saturday and hopefully it won't rain and he'll still like it. Watch out Ken Griffey Jr!</span></div><span style="font-size:+0;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314369964568717378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScBvU3cfqEI/AAAAAAAAAVc/h9nJrt1AKrM/s200/016.JPG" border="0" /></span>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-73173606336080303812009-03-17T20:15:00.000-07:002009-03-17T20:30:44.677-07:00A break from the life<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScBqsUlNcKI/AAAAAAAAAVE/mx0Nn6VrVsw/s1600-h/059.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314364869968752802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/ScBqsUlNcKI/AAAAAAAAAVE/mx0Nn6VrVsw/s200/059.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">1. Pick a weekend when to pawn the kids on the husbands or grandparents. CHECK!</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">2. Get time off from work. CHECK!</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">3. Pack a few clothes. CHECK!</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">4. Coordinate travel, transportation, and lodging. CHECK!</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">By last Wednesday, Erin Buehler, Meghan Anderson, and I had finished our check-lists and were on the way to the airport. Even though I do not "do" 4am wakings, I was more than ready to leave the house by 4:45. We were able to get on the 7am non-stop to Palm Springs on standby. As soon as the plane landed and we had our luggage, we took the taxi to my parent's condo. As soon as we were settled, it was to the store for necessities - beer, yogurt, and snacks. Next it was lunch and time for the pool and the sun. </span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Our typical days consisted of a trip to Starbucks for morning coffee (we walked once - but drove the golf cart the remainder); Sun and pool time from around 10-3; Frozen yogurt in the evenings.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">On Thursday, we "begged" our way into Splashtopia at the hotel. Miraculously, we got in for free. They had a moving river (with innertubes) and waterslides. Not to mention lunch and beverages by the pool. Ahhhhh. It was wonderful. On Saturday we walked around the street fair and found a few items we couldn't live without. We also drove to In-n-out for Erin to have her very first In-n-out burger (seriously)!</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">I must brag for a bit. It was pure Heaven to sit at a pool, read a book, listen to music, and talk with friends....all the while without being interrupted by our own children. I actually read (and finished) an entire book and about 7 smut magazines! </span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Sadly, we had to go back to real life on Saturday night and woke to snow on Sunday morning. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">So, to all the husbands we may badmouth from time to time - THANK YOU for our respite! And, we plan on doing it again next year!!!!</span></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-40049685496093245942009-02-23T20:17:00.000-08:002009-02-23T20:49:11.422-08:00Birthday Palooza<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SaN5GGDvVUI/AAAAAAAAAU8/gvDD-WJzixc/s1600-h/thumbnail.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306217931585049922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 140px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SaN5GGDvVUI/AAAAAAAAAU8/gvDD-WJzixc/s200/thumbnail.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I love birthdays! Seriously. I look forward to them. I count down the days. I just love birthdays. However, the older I get and the less "exciting" the celebration tends to be. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">This year was no exception. Mark & I planned to go out to dinner and a movie on Friday night. My parents were scheduled to babysit. However, Mom got sick on Thursday on the way home from a business trip. Sick sick. Fever, vomiting, etc. In fact, the plane had to stop while taxiing to the runway so she could run to the lavatory and puke. Serioulsy. So, needless to say, she wasn't able to babysit on Friday. Saturday I worked. Sunday (the actual birthday), mom was better (no fever, etc), but was weak. So, we went over there for dinner. Dad BBQ'd and Mom made a banana cream pie (my request). </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Now back to the story. I received "the usual" calls. Got quite a few facebook Happy Birthday messages. But, I have a few "favorite" memories to discuss.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">1. Grandpa's call. He's my last living Grandpa and lives in the boonies in Wyoming. He called and wished me a happy birthday, etc. We chatted a bit and joked around a bit. Then he said (with a chuckle)...."just think of how it feels to have a granddaughter who is middle age"!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">2. The kids. Lauren has been taking piano lessons for a few weeks now. She's finally able to play the "white notes" too. So, she, Mark, & Mason composed a song for me while I was at work. Lauren accompanied Mark & Mason's singing, to the tune of "Old McDonald". Here's how it went:</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Old McMommy had a birthday,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Boy was she getting old.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">She had a birthday by the fire.<br />Boy was she getting old.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">With a grey hair here and a grey hair there</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Here a gray, there a grey, everywere a gray hair.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Old McMommy had a birthday.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Boy was she getting old!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">3. Jackie's card. The card itself was cute. On the inside, Jackie drew her own illustration. She drew a picture of a hill. At one end was a person. At the other was a grave marker that said "RIP". At the top peak there was a line pointing to it, which said "how is it at the top"?</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">I may be mistaken, but the average life expectancy (according to the CDC) is 77.8 (and a little higher for women). Just for the record, I am not 38.4 yet! But, nonetheless you funny people....I still don't mind how old I am! But you might want to check back when I hit 40. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-21614469847225585532009-02-03T20:05:00.000-08:002009-02-03T20:27:12.831-08:00Please, no........<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SYkYxYn5UoI/AAAAAAAAAU0/wG8YPJs5XTQ/s1600-h/Sick.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298793673280541314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 132px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 162px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SYkYxYn5UoI/AAAAAAAAAU0/wG8YPJs5XTQ/s200/Sick.gif" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">For those who don't read Mason's caringbridge updates, I'm going to fill you in a bit.</span><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Friday: Approximately 50 children are absent from Mason's school due to a stomach bug. And, through the grapevine I heard that the Public Health Department was called. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Monday: 77 children + 14 staff are absent from Mason's school due to a stomach bug.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Today: Approximately 30 children are absent from Mason's school due to a stomach bug. A letter is sent home from the principal informing the parents that "there has been an increase in student absences due to norovirus-like illness). Or, the stomach flu. The letter goes on to warn us that if your child has symptoms, to keep them home for 48 hours after symptoms have ended. </span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">The other side of the letter is information about Norovirus from the Public Health Department. It explains that the "symptoms often begin suddenly within 12 to 48 hours after exposure". The next section discusses how it is spread (contiminated objects or inhaling the virus when someone vomits); diagnosis; and prevention (wash hands.....).</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Tonight we were at Pump-it-up for a birthday party. This was the first birthday party (from a classmate) that Mason has been able to attend. Mason has been talking non-stop about going since yesterday. When we pulled up to the building, the birthday girl and about 4 other classmates came LITERALLY running out of the door to our car to hug Mason (all the while screaming his name). The bouncing was terrific. I think I could've skipped my walk today, as I'm sure I burned more calories just jumping, sliding, and climbing the inflatables. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">After bouncing, it was pizza time. There were two tables filled with classmates and their siblings eating pizza and drinking pop. One of Mason's good friends complained of a stomach ache and went to the bathroom with his mom. He came back a few minutes later, looking a little pale, but seeming fine. That is until about 3 minutes later when he vomited!!! AAAAHHHHHH. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">When the kids and I got home I made them strip down in the laundry room (since I had to run around the house, I just took off the sweats and coat). Their clothes were immediately put in the washing machine and each was given a thorough bath/shower. Once they were in bed I scrubbed their shoes with Lysol (yes, even the soles). I tossed my clothes into the wash and took a shower too. Now, I'm just praying we all survive and do not end up with this awful bug. But....as I've told Meghan, if Mason gets it, he'll probably end up at Children's needing IV hydration, so she'd have to watch Lauren. :-) </span></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-3589037654533316422009-02-03T10:43:00.001-08:002009-02-03T10:51:34.157-08:00Love<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SYiSJui2YrI/AAAAAAAAAUs/G3Rt5nUku2A/s1600-h/heart.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298645657412068018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SYiSJui2YrI/AAAAAAAAAUs/G3Rt5nUku2A/s200/heart.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Apparantly Mason has a girlfriend. Or, at least that's what he told me yesterday and again today.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">He was invited to another classmate's birthday party at an inflatable bounce place. The whole class was invited (as has been the case all year - but we haven't been able to attend any yet due to scheduling conflicts, illness, etc). When I picked him up from school yesterday, he informed me that he was going to Mika's birthday party and was going to bounce all over. He was quite excited. Next, he told me Mika was his girlfriend. I chuckled and asked him if a few other girls in his class were his girlfriend. He said 'no, Mika is my girlfriend'. I kept chuckling and let him know that yes, he was going to her party.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Yesterday afternoon Lauren, Mason, & I went shopping for the gift. We went to Michael's since I had a coupon and knew they had some good craft-type gifts. As we're walking through, Mason is explaining to Lauren that he has to get a gift for his girlfriend's birthday party. He finds a few things and says, "oh, my girlfriend would like that". We settled on a wooden paint-your-own little jewelry box/vanity thing. It's cute. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">As we're walking to the front of the store passing the fake flowers, Mason grabs my arm. "Mom, stop. My girlfriend would love a beautiful flower. See...". Both Lauren and I continue to wink at each other and just go along with Mason. "Mom, my girlfriend would love a rose". It was hilarious. But, we settled on the box/vanity thing.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">This morning I wasn't greeted with a hello or good morning, like usual. I was greeted with "Oh, mom, it's my girlfriend's birthday party today after school". He was literally bouncing around the house ecstatic for the party. </span></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-70321450386353523922009-01-30T20:11:00.000-08:002009-01-30T20:17:26.655-08:00Words from a 6 year old<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SYPQyYABh9I/AAAAAAAAAUk/PpbActHoywY/s1600-h/0511-0811-1717-0452.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297307150572423122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 100px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 73px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SYPQyYABh9I/AAAAAAAAAUk/PpbActHoywY/s200/0511-0811-1717-0452.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Today was another day of Mason on steroids. Nothing too bad to report. Same old side effects as usual. We had to run by the pharmacy to pick up the remainder of his antibiotic (they didn't have enough in stock on Monday). To put it in perspective, today at work, I called in an antibiotic for a 16 year old. It was Amoxicillin 500mg twice daily. Mason is currently taking 500mg THREE times a day. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Anyway, I bribed him to behave with a snack. If he was a good listener and didn't run off, he'd get a "bar" (Special K snack bar). As we walked up to the pharmacy counter, I asked if he wanted to tell them his name, so we could get his prescription (mind you, everyone in the pharmacy knows our first and last names). His response was, "no Mom, that's your job". </span></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-39184130839353411472009-01-30T20:00:00.000-08:002009-01-30T20:11:19.530-08:00Lockdown part two<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SYPPLXD8AvI/AAAAAAAAAUc/4JTcMSriB3E/s1600-h/004.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297305380793877234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SYPPLXD8AvI/AAAAAAAAAUc/4JTcMSriB3E/s200/004.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Keep in mind when reading this that he is currently on oral steroids. Steroids make him impulsive, defiant, agitated, and more. He tends to also make up stories, and to put it bluntly, lie. Sometimes it's little and I consider it more confusion. For example, "I had library today" when library was really yesterday. Or, "I went to recess today" when he really didn't, but wanted to (he couldn't as his pulmonologist wanted him inside to rest instead of recess this week). </span><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">So, yesterday I picked up Mason after school. He left his lunch bag (again...as did about 5 other K/1's) in the classroom. So, we turned around, walked in the building, and headed for the classroom. As per the usual, I asked about his day - what he did, who he played with, etc. The conversation went like this:</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Cori - How was your day today?</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Mason - Good Mommy. I went to the resource room.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">C- Oh, and what did you do?</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">M- I played Starfall on the computer.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">C-That's great. Was it fun?</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">M- Yes. We had a lockdown today.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">C- No, sweetie. That was Lauren's school last week. You had a fire alarm on the same day.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">M- Yeah. But, we have a lockdown today.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">C- Well, Mason, it was a fire alarm and that was last week.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">As we're walking down the hall, a K/1 teacher walks by. So, I ask her 'did you guys have a lockdown today'? Her response was "as a matter of fact, we did. It was a drill". </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Needless to say, I apologized to Mason, and he proceeded to tell me it was "just practice" and he stayed in the resource room while it occurred. </span></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-46068925111086887412009-01-22T18:00:00.001-08:002009-01-22T18:33:05.404-08:00Not a good sign<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SXkrZREK-DI/AAAAAAAAAUU/GptFJv-IGFk/s1600-h/police+car.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294310550028351538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 113px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SXkrZREK-DI/AAAAAAAAAUU/GptFJv-IGFk/s200/police+car.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">It's never a good sign to drive into your child's school neighborhood and find 10 police cars (with lights flashing)blocking off the entrance to the school. It's even worse to hear that your child's school has been in lockdown. Hence was the scene today. But before I get to that....let me talk about picking up the first child from his school just 40 minutes earlier.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Today I arrived at Mason's school to pick him up. As I always do, I stood waiting outside near the exit for his class to appear. Shortly before the end-of-school bell rung, the fire alarm went off. There were flashing fire alarms, and the alarm sounding. Lovely. The principal came out with the bullhorn to announce that it was indeed a false alarm. Apparantly a student pulled the fire alarm. As the kids came streaming out to the front of the school, one class was missing. Mason's! There were a few of us parents waiting for our kids to come. They still didn't. At that point, it seemed like the rest of the school had left. Even the buses had left. Mason's class still hadn't appeared. Within a few seconds his class started streaming out the doors. The reason for the delay was that no one was allowed to enter the building until the fire department cleared the scene. Unfortunately, Mason's class exited the class for the fire alarm without their coats and backpacks. So, they had to wait for the doors to unlock to get their belongings. The kids who ride the bus had to wait in the office for their parents to come and pick them up. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">After that excitement, we headed to Lauren's school to get her. It's located at the end of a neighborhood. I drove in behind a few cars....to see the flashing police lights. A car in the front of the line turned around and told us the school was in lockdown. She was told the kids were to be picked up at a different elementary school. I decided to wait to see for myself. The school district representative was turning cars around. He informed me there was a lockdown and kids would be picked up at a different high school. I pulled into a cul-de-sac to wait for a moment. Luckily Meghan and Jack were waiting with us too. Deanne was at the school, but didn't have her cell on. At that time the KIRO 7 helicopter was circling overhead. I called Mark, who checked on-line to see if there was a status update. The update was that they were in lockdown. I was then able to get through to the school and they verified all the students were safe, but they were in lockdown. A few minutes later the lockdown was over and police cars started to move. The parents and buses were allowed in. When we pulled into the pick up zone, there were still officers roaming the campus (with LARGE guns). Many officers with guns. Within the next few minutes, they headed up the hill and back to their cars. The kids were dismissed when the bell rang.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">So, here's the rest of the story as we currently know it: The school had TWO lockdowns. The first occurred when a local community college had a lockdown drill. The loudspeaker could be heard for miles. The school (and a few other nearby elementary schools) locked down very briefly as the source was located. Then, as the 5th graders had recess, a few reported that they saw a man with a gun in the woods behind the school. That's when the lockdown started. Blinds were closed and all doors were locked. According to Lauren, they kids had to lay under their desks without talking for two hours. They could communicate by passing notes to each other. Here's the news link I found: <a href="http://www.kirotv.com/news/18543001/detail.html">http://www.kirotv.com/news/18543001/detail.html</a></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Suprisingly, Lauren didn't seem too fazed by the whole ordeal. She said she was scared, but prayed not to be nervous. She explained the whole ordeal and how and why the kids were under the desks, etc. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">All in all, it's time for a drink!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-69930273176766967002008-12-22T18:33:00.000-08:002008-12-22T18:46:58.899-08:00Another day<div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SVBQhP1MazI/AAAAAAAAATw/QB7tYMxPa80/s1600-h/104.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282810895021140786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SVBQhP1MazI/AAAAAAAAATw/QB7tYMxPa80/s200/104.JPG" border="0" /></a> <div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Today marks day 4 of no school - even though there should be! They have already cancelled school for tomorrow. Now we will have 5 more days to make up...and we're already making up days due to the beginning of the year teacher's strike. Let me give you a quick recap of the last week.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Wednesday: School was closed in "anticipation of the impending storm", which did not happen on Wednesday. Granted Wednesday was only a half day, but I still hadn't planned on a day o'kids (and I had to call in 'absent' to work).</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Thursday: We woke to snow. Mason was scheduled for surgery, so that meant numerous calls to Children's; last minute planning; and leaving as soon as we were given the "come now" call. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Friday: Came home from Children's in the snow. Played in the snow.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Saturday: More of the same.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Sunday: More of the same.</span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282811057064125682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SVBQqrfQJPI/AAAAAAAAAT4/kibSC4Ae0Oo/s200/096.JPG" border="0" /> <div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Monday: More of the same - as we woke to 4 more inches. Luckily, I was scheduled to work & the office had "adverse condition hours". This meant we were open from 10-3:30. So, I had Mark take me to the Factoria office so I could work there. Hallelujah! He picked me up at 1:30 as I had a 2:00 appointment with a hand specialist to evaluate "a tumor". It's some sort of "mass" on my left hand. Tonight Mason spilled his juice all over the kitchen floor. That required major mopping and cleaning. I guess I should be thankful for that, as the floors are disgusting - courtesy of the snow!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Tuesday: So, tomorrow, the excitement will be....work. Then an MRI of "the tumor". But, at least it gets me away from everyone for awhile. </span></div></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-20055107362488628442008-12-21T19:07:00.000-08:002008-12-21T19:22:40.112-08:00Oh the weather outside...<div><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SU8GBFYfFwI/AAAAAAAAATY/QNQJ1DH5dTw/s1600-h/101.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282447503623395074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SU8GBFYfFwI/AAAAAAAAATY/QNQJ1DH5dTw/s200/101.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">is frightful, but the fire is so delightful. And, since we've no place to go...DON'T SAY IT! It's been cold and snowy for over a week now. Last Monday was Grandpa's memorial service. We stood outside (undercover) at the cemetary in well-below-freezing temperatures with snow on the ground. The only day the snow decreased was on Wednesday when schools were closed "in anticipation of the impending storm" (THAT WASN'T).</span><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">But, the storm came on Thursday. It's been snowing on and off since then. Luckily, the 70+ MPH wind they forecasted did not come. So, thankfully we have power. I LOVE the snow. I truly do! It is beautiful. But, I much prefer "building" snow, not just dry snow. By my measurements, we've had 11 inches of snow - I measured tonight! Our little lights which are on stakes to line the driveway are completely covered. And, the news is calling for 3-6 more inches of snow.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Thanks to an SUV and paved roads in Bellevue, we have made it out and about. Today we went to my parent's for lunch and to see the cousins. After lunch, it was back home since it was snowing again. We were supposed to celebrate Grandma's 85th birthday today, but due to the weather, the restaurant cancelled. </span></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282448323131518322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SU8GwyScrXI/AAAAAAAAATg/Lu_5UdOr4CU/s200/108.JPG" border="0" /> <div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">The kids LOVE the snow almost as much as I do. And, Maggie, the dog loves it even more! So, tomorrow, there is no school AGAIN. Which means, (I assume) we'll need to make up at least 4-5 more days of school somewhere. Oh well. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282448498514371346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SU8G6_o-oxI/AAAAAAAAATo/PkAB7pp-XhM/s200/073.JPG" border="0" /></span></div></div></div><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">In September when the schools were on strike, I made TONS of raspberry freezer jam to give to friends, family, and teachers (p.s. friends, if you are reading this...yes you're getting freezer jam). A few weeks ago I purchased the gift bags. Last week I cut out fabric and covered the lids. While Mason was having surgery on Thursday, I made gift tags. So, in all the snow, I learned a lesson. The lesson is this: If I get ALL the teacher Christmas gifts (a.k.a. holiday gifts) prepared in advance there won't be snow! Hmmmm, I'll have to think about that for next year. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">The other lesson, is that Maggie CAN indeed stay inside by herself and not destroy or urinate all over everything - even if we're gone for a few hours!!!</span></p>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-87459640977803754392008-12-17T06:53:00.000-08:002008-12-17T07:03:40.074-08:00Are you kidding me?!<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SUkUtRp3RLI/AAAAAAAAATQ/96iA3l7Tdes/s1600-h/snow.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280774806134277298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 155px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SUkUtRp3RLI/AAAAAAAAATQ/96iA3l7Tdes/s200/snow.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Email I received from Lauren's school this morning: <strong>School has been cancelled today (Wednesday, 12/17) because of the impending storm.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">From the school district website: <strong>Bellevue Schools are closed today, December 17, because of uncertain weather forecast and safety concerns for students and staff.</strong> </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">If you've lived in Washington for more than a few days, there is one fact we know for certain. Weather forecasters are wrong! Now, I'm not saying the "big storm" may not come today. But, I am saying that historically, the forecasters are wrong. Take yesterday for example. We were supposed to get 2-6 inches overnight. As I look outside, we have no more snow today than we did yesterday. Roads are still fine. Take earlier in the week, they forecasted our high in Bellevue would not be above 22. Well, it was. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">But, the "thoughtful" school district decides to close school (on a half-day no less) just in case it does snow. Hmmm. If it does snow later today, that would most likely mean school will be closed on Thursday too. So, why not on Friday also? WHY in the world would administration decide to close school IN CASE of a storm? I understand kids safety, transportation, and all the rest. But, truly to close on the chance that there will be snow? Perhaps they should invoke a rule where kids cannot attend IF they might become ill during school hours too! </span></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-61027981261233869442008-12-06T20:42:00.003-08:002008-12-07T09:50:37.762-08:00Don't you go dying on me<div align="left"><span style="font-size:78%;">(picture from 9/08)</span><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/STtvjCwqt_I/AAAAAAAAATI/5nm3Y6y9MoA/s1600-h/042.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276934036221769714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/STtvjCwqt_I/AAAAAAAAATI/5nm3Y6y9MoA/s200/042.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">To quote one of my favorite lines from the movie Dumb and Dumber...."Seniore citizens, although slow and dangerous behing the wheel, can still serve a purpose....Don't you go dying on me".</span> <div align="left"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">Yesterday, Good Grandpa did just that. He passed away at 2:30pm on Friday at Evergreen Hospice. He'd been in un-perfect health for a LONG time. He just kept plugging away. He'd been through a quadruple bypass; stents; fainting episodes, a hijacking attempt at Seatac in the '80's. And the list goes on. Ever since Mark & I started dating 1600 years ago (oh, I mean 16), it has always been Grandpa's last Christmas. We've truly joked about that every year. Each year Grandpa was with us, we were very blessed. He made it to both my sister's and my wedding. He was able to meet Lauren, Mason, and both my sister's children. That in and of itself was a HUGE blessing. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">On November 14 Grandma awoke and Grandpa seemed unresponsive. 9-1-1 was called and they transported him to Evergreen Hospital. Within a few hours he was transferred to the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit. I arrived mid-day and met Grandma and Dad there. Grandpa was weak, but despite his dementia, he was "with it" enough to make jokes and knew who we all were. His vital signs were crummy (heart rate and blood pressure were very low). He was transferred later to the medical floor. They decided to change some of his medication to hopefully improve his vitals. He was discharged the next week with a catheter to home. The doctors and social work decided to have hospice come to their home and expected he had about 3-6 months left on earth. He spent Thanksgiving at home with Grandma and Uncle Fred & Aunt Faith. He even ate a good dinner. The next day however he was not doing well. The hospice nurse decided to have him transferred to Evergreen Hospice near the hospital. Quickly his condition deteriorated. Within a few days he was no longer opening his eyes, able to eat, or producing any urine. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">We arrived home from Maui late Thursday night. Mom and Dad drove me to see Grandpa while Mark drove the kids home and even unpacked all the suitcases (and put the kids clothes away)! Grandpa's lungs were filled with fluid and you could hear him "gurgle" with each breath. Yet, he was peacful. He was obviously in the last stages and was taking LONG pauses between each breath. Mom and Aunt Lynda spent the night there. On Friday morning he was still alive. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">After work I drove up to see him again. Uncle Fred and his wife Faith, Aunt Lynda, Uncle Ken and his son Scott, Mom, and Grandma were in Grandpa's room. His breathing was not as labored as the previous night. We were all in his room being just as noisy and obnoxious as always (it's a very noisy family). Just before 2:30 Grandpa opened one eye and started to stir. Next he opened the other eye. We all quickly stood around the bed and were touching him. Grandma stood by him and stroked his head while talking to him. She named everyone in the room. She told him she loved him. She told him we all loved him and what a wonderful husband, father, and grandfather he had been. He looked around the room. He smiled with his mouth wide open then gazed towards the ceiling. Immediately I knew he was leaving the earth. All I could think while watching him smile, was that he was entering Heaven. Slowly his eyes closed. As his breathing became shallow, his coloring changed. I knew (I think before the others) that he was gone. He never gasped. He simply stopped breathing, very peacefully. After a few moments I went to ask the hospice nurse to come in. She confirmed he had passed away. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">A short while later the nurses explained that when the family was ready, they would clean him and provide him with a quilt. I stayed while the others left - I didn't want him to be alone, even though I knew he was gone. 4 nurses came in. They respectfully removed the oxgyen and removed his catheter. One brushed his hair. The other put his lower set of dentures in (the uppers were already in). They provided him with a clean sheet and a quilt. The other placed a electric candle in the window (this is their procedure once someone has passed away). They re-situated him in the middle of the bed and folded his hands on top of each other in a peaceful way. He looked just like always and you kept expecting him to take another breath. Everyone came back in when they were finished. We stayed in the room with him and told a few more stories. There were tears, but also many laughs. Shortly before 4:30, my cousin Monica arrived to say goodbye to Grandpa too. Each of us said our final goodbyes to Grandpa around 4:30 and left the hospice facility. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">This is my 3rd Grandparent to pass away in the past 8 months. Mark's last remaining Grandma passed away earlier this year too. The deaths of my other two grandparents were not so difficult. We were not very close (by their choice - a long story for another time). But, Grandpa was my favorite Grandpa. He will be greatly missed. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">This evening, on the way to my parents house to have dinner with the relatives, Mason commented on Great Grandpa. He said "great Grandpa won't be there. He is in Heaven". </span></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-26988768858776507972008-12-06T20:42:00.001-08:002008-12-06T20:42:23.457-08:00HawaiiTo be continued later....corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1274985142839942839.post-33888886051295840142008-11-18T19:37:00.001-08:002008-11-22T20:28:13.411-08:00Tootsie Pops<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SSOKerq1D_I/AAAAAAAAASw/ZYPuNWcBvsY/s1600-h/tpops_pops.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270208248676683762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 125px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 125px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqDPFvOtnPg/SSOKerq1D_I/AAAAAAAAASw/ZYPuNWcBvsY/s200/tpops_pops.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Tootsie Pop "sticks" are not for eating. Could someone <strong><em>PLEASE</em></strong> tell Mason that? </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">For those who think I'm a careless mother....I'm not. Yes, he did indeed chew/eat most of the stick. Good news is that it is made of paper which does break down pretty easily in the stomach. At least he did agree afterwards that it didn't taste very good.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">UPDATE: Hours after posting this, guess what I found?! The lollipop stick in the car. Turns out the kiddo DIDN'T eat the stick. </span></div>corihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17885365501002656028noreply@blogger.com1