Chatterbox

Kate can't stop talking, and it's the best.  Here's a current list of her fun words and phrases (yes, phrases!).

out

don't do it!

cut it

take it

no paper

mine!

'kay

yeah

please

thank you

welcome

bess you (bless you)

sorry

Zach

Wexi

Date (Kate)

Ranch (the dressing--haha)

hey! (after a perceived injustice)

shower

bunny

bye-bye, see ya (together)

haha (when she wins tug-of-war, takes a toy, etc.)

glasses

hand hurts

chawkick (chocolate--my favorite)

doggie scawy dweam (in the middle of the night)

Ode you (hold you, which means hold me)

Kate has a sense of humor.  Her full-tilt run is so darling. She loves dresses and usually likes having me fix her hair. She loves swings and slides and parks and anything with wheels. She has to ride in our stroller at the store because she can get out of the cart seat. This girl is also a true Bartle, having developed a talent for mischief.  Her latest tricks: moving stools and chairs to access high places (including door knobs), and closing my bathroom door while she raids my make-up.

On the day Kate hurt her hand, while I was making dinner, I realized things had been too quiet for a while.  I checked the bathroom first, but she wasn't there.  She didn't respond to my calls, and pretty soon the whole family was looking for Kate in the house and yard.  It had probably been 20 minutes since I had personally laid eyes on her, but with five other people in the house, I assumed someone was with Kate.  When I started questioning kids, Lexi said, "Kate just walked down the street."  My heart stopped.

So everyone started running around the neighborhood, calling her name.  No Kate.  I had circled the block, and Garry had circled another direction, and I was on the verge of calling the police.  That's when Zach ran out the back gate and said he had found her sitting in my laundry basket in the closet.  Words cannot express our collective relief!  

We all hugged Kate a little tighter that night.  We're so glad she is part of our family! 

Super Littles

Gavin was fake-sick this week (don't get me started) and missed Dress-Like-a-Superhero Day at school.  When he returned and it was Wear Yellow Day (?) so Gavin made up for lost time.  Lexi never misses a chance to copy her big brother.  And so it was that the Littles dressed up as Superman and a witch just because it was Wednesday.

if it ain't broke, don't fix it

On Thursday Kate had an accidental altercation with the van's trunk door.  The door won, of course, and Kate's left hand had a big owie. Because I'm not an alarmist, and because my schedule was crazy that day, and because Kate really needed a nap, and maybe because I'm a bad mother, I consciously put five hours between her injury and the doctor's office.  I'm a fan of the watch-and-wait approach, unless it comes to my own insane reactions to medications (pun intended) and I'm vomiting or passed out on the floor.

Anyway.

I opted for cheap[er] and asked my peds office to work me in instead of walking into Urgent Care down the hall. As we sat and waited, I pondered the irony of Kate possibly being the first Bartle child with a broken bone.  

Fortunately, she did not snatch the honor from her siblings.  She's not broken after all.  Just a little swollen and bruised.

Isn't she charming?

funnies

Sometimes life just makes me laugh.

Gavin has taught himself to "whistle."  He purses his lips and blows some air, but not one bit of music comes out. Gavin is oblivious to this little detail, and asks us to listen to various whistling tunes.  I don't recognize any of them unless he tells me in advance.  Gavin has also declared that he has two favorite songs: "Jumbo Elephant" (a sweet song my grandma taught me when I was little) and "Marry You" by Bruno Mars.

Another funny: kids digging up a pair of Lexi's shoes in the back yard sand pit.  Tyler and a buddy unearthed them on Saturday.  They've been missing since last summer (the shoes, not the kids).  I wonder if the sand pit also swallowed Lexi's darling-but-AWOL cowgirl boots.

We found these foam pieces (road segments, if you can't tell) arranged in an interesting way on the shower wall. The artist: Tyler.

As you know, Zach joined the middle school band (so far just on paper).  He has to have a set of bells (not the kind you ring, as I have learned), and renting the bells kit for 10 months is 20 bucks less than buying a kit, so we bought one.  It was due to arrive on Friday, and when a big box appeared on our front porch (thank you, Mr. UPS), we carefully brought it inside.  Zach was all anticipation as he opened the box, until he saw that it was full of two giant boxes of size 4 Luvs diapers.  The bells came the next day.

The Littles talked me into making cupcakes with blue frosting.  They talk me into a lot of stuff.  Anyway, Kate got to lick the bowl for the first time.  I think she just wanted a bath.

Next we have an embarrassing moment for me.  Last night while I was vacuuming the basement and mentally moving on to my next task of making cupcake paper garlands for Lexi's birthday party, a friend sent me a text asking if I was coming to book club.  As I stood there, sweating in my grubby clothes and being annoyed with myself for not brushing my teeth since breakfast, I realized that I was 30 minutes late to the book club meeting where I was the discussion leader for a book I didn't finish because I thought it was boring. Oops!  So I high-tailed it over to Panera and spent the next two hours chatting with good friends.  We got kicked out 40 minutes after closing, and then I got kicked out of Target at 10:07.

At a court of honor the other night, I had my phone out to take pictures for the ward newsletter.  Lexi commandeered it and took no fewer than 17 shots of her beloved (and exceptionally ragged) dog, Betsy, who of course had to support the scouts.

During dinner one night we had a funny discussion.  One of Tyler's comments made me talk about myself as a child.  I shared some stories about playing dumb when I knew all the answers, mostly to get attention and be obnoxious.  Apparently Tyler could relate to this practice, and confessed that his friends refer to him as a human dictionary.  And then to me Gavin said, "I'm not pretending to be dumb like you."

Another night we sat around the dinner table and tried to make Kate demonstrate her ever-growing vocabulary.  Sometimes we know exactly what she's saying; others, not so much.  This night she kept exclaiming, "hodor!"  We didn't get it.  Gavin asked if I wrote that one down (I was taking notes).  I told him I didn't know what she was saying.  Exasperated, he said, "It means hitting your door with a hoe!"

Also, Kate likes mascara.

 Zach needs new socks.  That doesn't stop him from Ripstik-ing in the rain.

Lastly, I share a photo of a silly girl.  Our young women activity for the week was girls camp certification.  Our ward's youth camp leaders helped us start a fire (in a pit), cook with a Dutch oven, and tie knots, among other things.  Despite the date of MAY SEVENTH, it was cold and windy.  I had neglected my duty to tell the girls to wear warm clothes, so a few of my Beehives showed up in capris and sandals and were freezing.  This silly girl resorted to wearing a size 5T coat that was in a leader's car. 

Life's always good for a laugh, right?

Zackie Chan and the band

Our family is charting new territory: middle school.

Last week we attended the middle school band's instrument selection event (say that ten times fast).  Zach would like to join the 6th grade band, but only as a drummer.  Fortunately for him, the two years of piano lessons I have forced upon him paid off; that much piano experience is required for playing in the percussion section.  Zach did a great job with his mini audition.  Garry and I were pleased to be able to tell the band director that Zach is a good boy and a great student.  The director said he needs kids like that in percussion because they sit in the very back of the band room and have weapons in their hands.  (Nice.)

So, with visions of weapons in his hands, I took Zach to the high school band's end-of-year concert.  The top band played with the Air Force Academy band (correct me if I'm wrong, local friends), and the concert was fantastic.  Afterward, a young man in our ward gave us a tour of the band room and showed him every drum, cymbal, and noise maker there.  Zach got a better idea of what fun things happen in the percussion section.  It was great.  I'm looking forward to the adventure ahead (trying not to think about the noise) and so is Zach (he can't wait to make noise).

In other Zachary news, he has given himself a new moniker: Zackie Chan.  I'm not sure what the name means (he's never seen a Jackie Chan movie...), but he writes it on all of his school papers, notebooks, and things at home.  Whatever his name, we are proud of our boy.

Some days I just need to blog

It's 10:28 p.m. and I haven't finished folding the seven loads of laundry on my bed.  Garry is out with friends tonight (the party usually ends at two or three in the a.m.), and the boys had their friends over tonight until 10:00.  All is now quiet for the first time today.

I'm going to take a moment of silence.

<moment>

Know what happened when I sat still in my brain for minute?  I cried, and not just in my brain.  I was not expecting that.  Why am I crying?

Maybe it's because my brain is just so full.  This month is so full--full of good things and fun things and celebratory things for many children at my house and in my heart--and at the same time completely overwhelming.  When I list them all I want you to know I am not complaining.  But I suppose this will capture a moment in my life when I was crying.

Dearest Lexi turns four next week, on May 16.  FOUR!  She's in the typical almost-four stage: whiny and clingy and bossy and smart-mouthed.  She's putting her female stamp on Bartle stubbornness and intensity.  She can roar like the best of them, and she frequently exasperates me to tears.  She makes me so, so tired and tries my patience many, many, many times a day.  I'm brushing up on Love and Logic, taking lots of deep breaths and time-outs myself, and trying to soak up the moments of goodness in her. So we'll have a little birthday girl next Thursday, and a birthday party on Saturday afternoon (the 18th).  The theme is rainbows and it's going to be lots of fun.  The party will be simple (I like simple) but the rainbowy decorations won't be as simple, but that's just what I want to do, and I don't get to choose what I do very often anymore.  Anyway.  We're having a party next Saturday afternoon.  

Next Saturday morning, probably from about 5:00 a.m. to noon, I will be helping at the Youth Garage Sale that I not-so-subtly announced in a recent letter.  Other people have made Herculean efforts to pull this off.  My job is to sit at the money table for four hours and thank the kind and generous citizens of Colorado Springs for helping our youth get to camp.  But first I need to make about 10 more signs to point the way to the sale.  That is really going to be time-consuming, and deciding how to position them all in the community might break my brain.  Please note that the garage sale ends at 11:00 a.m. (in theory) and the birthday party begins at 3:00 p.m.

Also next week: Mother's Day tea, Field Day, Computer Share Day, visiting teaching (seeing three friends with a friend, so it's fun).  Physical therapy (more on that later). Teacher Appreciation gifts (I have the stuff; just need to put on bows and nice notes). And I'd really, really like to plant some pretty flowers and spread some mulch to liven up my dead yard.

The next big event (May 21) is a graduation party of sorts for the youth in our ward who are graduating high school very soon.  We have four seniors to celebrate, and all the youth are going to enjoy the party!  It really is going to be cool.  We've got a fun theme and great games and yummy food lined up.  I have delegated a lot, but tonight, right this minute, I'm overwhelmed with what's left up to me: a huge banner with a cute quote from a famous person (no spoilers!) that I need to create and paint; make super cute and simple little signs; create a Mad Libs game for group use; and various other computer generated things, all with an amazing generous budget of $30, including food.  Yeah.

That shindig is partway into the last week of school.  There are two picnics in the park for my preschoolers and a continuation ceremony for Zach, since he is graduating elementary school! I need to figure out a special something to do for him.  Then on the 24th, Garry's mom and sister are coming to town for Memorial Day weekend.  When they leave, summer will have officially arrived (on the school calendar, at least--Mother Nature thinks it's February).  We'll RELAX the schedule for a couple of days, and then I'll go to youth conference.  That is from 4:30 on Thursday the 30th through sometime in the afternoon of Saturday the 1st.  I do not yet know my specific assignments beyond driving the youth hither and yon.  But assignments I will surely have!  I am crying about that because I kind of moved heaven and earth to go to youth conference, and I'm the only leader with little kids that did that. Maybe it wasn't super important to go, but now I'm committed.  I have two more PT appointments in there somewhere.  Lots of checks to babysitters in May. Are you crying yet?

And then summer. I cry just thinking about real summer when the kids are all home and I'm the one in charge and we can only run through the sprinklers twice a week before 10:00 a.m.  I have a love/hate relationship with TV.  I don't want my kids' brains turning to mush, but even though I have some cool ideas about learning and structure floating in my head, I'm not sure how or if I can implement them.  I have pretty low expectations of myself, and I can't decide what capacity I (might) really have.  I am so tentative about trying new things.  I want to swim laps at the Y.  I know it will be good for my broken and ever-fattening body, but I can't quite make myself just do it.  What if I get there, mustered courage and all, and no lanes are open?  What if I drown?  (This is a legitimate concern.)  How on earth can I reverse the terrible trend of gaining the weight I worked SO DANG HARD to lose?  I know it's my fault.  Eating ice cream is a poor choice.  Eating tons and tons of ice cream is an extremely poor choice.  I picked up that stick and don't like what I knew was on the other end.  I'm definitely crying now.

I'm new on the scene of physical therapy.  I have a lower left back thing, which turned into a right inner knee thing, which radiated into ankle, hip, and hamstring things.  My whole body rotates to the right and I run like I'm on a balance beam.  My stride is all messed up and my hips are out of whack.  It's not especially serious, but running, which is vital for my stable mental health, has not been possible for about 2 1/2 months.  Also demoralizing.  I think between seeing the therapist, who seems brilliant, and getting therapeutic massages (from an amazing girl), I could be on the road to recovery.  The PT clinic and its people are terrific.  I just want them to fix me.  I need to be fixed so I can get on with my life and get out of this ugly rut.

Not being able to run makes me cry, at least when I talk about it.  Today, when I almost talked about it to my good friend and PT, I closed the door to my room and really cried.  And then, pretending I hadn't cried, I set up three more appointments and went home.  And now I hurt in about 17 new places.  It's normal for that to happen, but right now I'm crying about my stupid old body that has limits.  I pretty much hate that.

Also at PT, I had a talk with a friend who's in college.  I reminisced on my collegiate regrets: graduating early, not taking a single fun class, not majoring in nursing (I enjoyed health science but for me it was a huge cop-out).  I worked in an office for two years after graduation when I could have been getting a graduate degree.  My young friend is lucky to have a mentor to teach her all of these things when she is 20 and these decisions are still ahead of her.  She won't have regrets.  And she won't have to figure out who she is and what she likes when she has a house full of kids.

The dumbest thing to cry about is not being able to learn piano music fast enough or well enough.  I realized the other day that I have come to terms with the fact that I'll never run an 8-minute mile again (not with this body, anyway).  I just don't go that fast, even though at 17 I ran a sub-6 fairly regularly.  But that's just reality.  I think I have to accept my piano performance limits as well.  I need to stop comparing, and stop beating my head against the wall when I mess up that part AGAIN or just can't play that section up to speed.  The guy who wrote it is brilliant, and the renditions I've heard are amazing, and I'm just not those people.  That doesn't mean I don't have a talent I'd like to continue to develop.  It just is what it is, and what it always will be.

Today I mopped my floor more thoroughly than usual.  I shouldn't have picked today to be thorough, since I had five or six more pressing tasks (none of them are done, as I sit here and whine to you), but I did.  I really cleaned a section of floor in front of the baseboard underneath the cabinet.  It doesn't get clean when I simply mop.  Today I got on my knees and worked on that spot.  Guess what happened?  Having a really clean, bright section of floor made the rest of the floor look that much dirtier.  *Sigh*  I hope this is not a metaphor for my life.

Tonight after the boys' "late night" party (we don't do sleepovers), Zach flipped out about his Saturday chores, which were listed on the job board.  Zach's part of our discussion was loud and emotional and involved throwing paper and tacks, while mine was calm and measured.  That was a tough way to end the night.  I sent Garry a text warning him that Zach refuses to attend tomorrow's merit badge clinic, which begins at 8:00 a.m.  Garry's gonna have to handle that one.

Dear readers, if you have read this far, I thank you kindly for listening.  Now that it is 11:38, I'm going to get some tissues and go to sleep under a mountain of laundry that didn't quite get folded tonight.  Heaven knows that laundry waits. I can cry about that tomorrow.

May Letters (with pictures)

Dear Spring,

Have you arrived in my city yet?  Since you dumped snow on us seven days ago, I'm not really sure.  But the sunshine and warm weather today makes me hopeful.  Garry spring-ified the sprinklers last night and we took our first ration day for watering our pathetic lawn.  If you're not here to stay and a pipe ends up bursting in teen-degree weather, I'm suing you for damages, which will include my pain and suffering from enduring a seven-month winter.

Sincerely,

This homeowner

...

Dear Car Toys (don't spam me),

I paid you to detail my van last week and was astonished at your nickel-and-dime pricing structure.  Why on earth does your base package not include the last two rows of seats in a van, or the trunk?  Why did your detail package not include cleaning the outside, too?  And why were you so aghast at the state of my van?  I mean, I know it was gross, but do people with clean vehicles pay you for your services?  I think not.  That said, you did a fantastically amazing job with the detail work you did perform.  I really didn't like the smell of the soap you used on the upholstery, but since it reminded me of the pristine interior, I didn't mind that it lingered for several days.  Now I have to figure out how to keep it clean.  Let's get real.  That's never gonna happen.

I'm still rolling my eyes at your judgmental comments,

The lady with the van whose tragic condition is apparently legendary

...

Dear cell phone service provider,

You just sent Garry two letters in the mail: one to inform him that he made changes to our account, and another to remind him that he changed his password.  Perhaps you could consider this new-fangled technology known as e-mail and pass on your savings from paper and postage to your valued customers.  But thank you for your fast and reliable network. The Other Provider sales guy at Costco couldn't believe Garry's enthusiastic testimonial.

I'm just sayin'...

One of your valued customers.

P.S. Do you know why I'm not using company names in this letter?  Last time I wrote to an internet service provider, I got blog comments from a company employee who doesn't really exist.

...

Dear Natalie,

It's not very often that my childhood BFF comes to town!  Thanks for stopping by!  It was super fun to see you on Sunday, even though had to vacuum your Spartan Race mud off my couch (haha--your words, not mine) and the pictures of us together are absolutely HORRIBLE of me.  I prefer the photo of us in front of my house when we were kids (I'm wearing red, in case you can't tell).

Love you,

Your childhood BFF

...

Dear Angie,

Thank you for the perfectly adorable wreath.  What a fun birthday present!  It is hanging outside, next to my front door.  What a happy welcome for the few visitors we get.

Love,

Your sis

...

Dear UPS man,

When Zach was little, he and I sat on our front porch every Friday morning to watch the garbage truck roll through our neighborhood.  The garbage man knew our names and waved and honked his horn whenever he saw us.  You are the 2013 version of that delightful experience.  Gavin and Lexi are thrilled to see you when you come to our house (which is at least as often as the garbage man, who holds no allure for my children), especially when you let Gavin carry the packages.  When I saw you delivering boxes in another neighborhood, I said hello and you recognized me, at least by my street address and my "blonde little kids."  That made us both laugh.

See you next time,

The lady who should by stock in Amazon.com

...

Dear friends (you know who you are),

Thank you for the beautiful birthday flowers.  I thought you would like to see that they are even prettier than they were 10 days ago.  They bring a smile to my face every time I look at them.  I'm sure there's a blooming metaphor I could use to connect you and the flowers, but it's escaping me right now, so use your imagination.

Love you,

The birthday girl

...

Dear Craigslist patrons,

Thank you for buying our bedroom set, piecemeal, over the last month.  I am grateful to have it out of my garage, and to have your money in my pocket, even if you paid a lot less than we were asking.  Sometimes that's "the way the cookie crumbles," as Zach would say after learning about idioms at school.

Resigned,

Your furniture dealer

...

Dear tax return,

Although you were significantly smaller than you have been in recent years (thanks a lot, State of Colorado), I am grateful you were able to fund the changes in our tiny bedroom.  I adore our smaller, shorter bed with big storage drawers underneath.  I'm thrilled with the extra 12 inches we gained in the width of our room, not to mention the ample space vacated by our bulky furniture.  I love the new, super-cheap-but-awesome pictures on the walls and fun pillows on the bed.  My feelings of claustrophobia have vanished, and I will admit that the new flat-screen TV on the wall is great.  The only downside to your contributions is that the comfort of my bedroom has fueled my addiction to reruns of The West Wing.

Love you the mostest,

Your permanent resident

...

Dear Albertsons,

Just for the record, I looked up your name, and it doesn't have an apostrophe.  Anyway, thank you for providing our swanky "going out for dinner" experience on Saturday night. The kids were thrilled with Totino's (there is an apostrophe in this one) pizza and Tillamook ice cream from the frozen food section.  We certainly didn't win awards for health and wellness that night, but we did earn lots of Cool Parents points, even if our large, loud entourage garnered some stares from some of your other customers.  

Regards,

Bartle, party of seven

...

Dear Kate,

I love peanut butter, too, but I've really got to teach you to eat it with a spoon.

Love,

Mama

...

Dear Colorado Springs residents,

[Warning: shameless promotion ahead.] My ward's youth are having a huge garage sale for a summer camp fundraiser.  They will have tons of amazing stuff for sale, including furniture, electronics, toys, baby stuff, home decor, handmade items, and delicious baked goods.  Please come and help some terrific kids pay for their summer camp activities on May 18 from 7-11 a.m at my church.  My hand-made signs will be all over town. [End of shameless promotion.]

Yours in service,

Sister B.

...

Dear Garry,

Thanks for taking a sick day so I could take a day off from my responsibilities at home.  I don't know why I wake up in such a funk on some days, but I appreciate your support. I'm sure the kids loved a fun Daddy Day, too.  Thank you also for delivering my lunch of a deli sandwich and Cheetos from the grocery store.

Sincerely,

Your wife

You're not gonna believe this...

This morning began when I ignored my 5:30 alarm.  I dreamed I swam laps at the gym, but in reality, I hid under the covers for another hour.  As the morning unfolded, I realized that I should have stayed in bed.

I had an appointment with my psychiatrist at 9:00.  I had lined up a college girl to babysit, and also asked a friend to transport Zach from the middle school to the elementary school at precisely 8:48.  Besides being frazzled about my messy house, it seemed that everything was in place for a smooth morning and a thoughtful conversation with the guy in charge of my erratic mental health.

At 8:30, when the babysitter was ten minutes late, I sent her a text: "Are you on your way?"

Five minutes later, she called.  She had just woken up.  She was still in bed, bleary-eyed and very apologetic.  Since she was 10-15 minutes away, and my appointment was about 25 minutes away, I had to decide between waiting for her to show up and being quite late, and taking the girls with me to my appointment.  I do not like changing plans and making decisions on the fly.  I do NOT like being late.  And I DO NOT like trying to have important conversations with my little kids running around.  In the end, I whisked the girls into the car, grabbed a bag of quiet activities, and flew out the door.  Lexi was sobbing about missing the fun of having an attentive and exciting babysitter.  I promised her a treat after the appointment.  During the drive I tried to convince myself that Kate and Lexi would sit angelically on the couch and look at books.

When I arrived downtown I couldn't find a parking spot on the street.  I did make a lame attempt at parallel parking (how have I arrived at my old age without developing this skill?), but eventually abandoned that idea, drove around the block, and found an open spot behind the building.  Then I put Kate in the stroller and literally ran, Lexi at my side, around to the front entrance.  We found an open elevator, arrived at the eighth floor, and walked into the smallest waiting room ever at 8:59.  I felt completely victorious...and quite out of breath.

Just as the doctor opened the door to let us in, Zach called from the middle school.  My friend was 15 minutes late picking him up.  He was stranded.  I just told him to wait. What else could I do?

Once in the office, Kate screamed to get out of the stroller.  Lexi pulled out crayons.  In 30 seconds flat, the contents of my bag of tricks were spread out on the floor and Kate was jumping on the couch.  I was beyond frazzled.  I answered the doctor's "How have you been?" with a blank stare.  At that moment, I really had no idea.  This was a wretched beginning.

Eventually I responded to the doctor's inquiries, sharing disjointed and sporadic details about the last two months.  Dr. McClure, who, with his goatee and glasses and fancy leather chair, could be the poster child for his profession, cocked his head and nodded and made some notes as I talked.  Zach called twice in ten minutes.  I ignored the calls.  When the phone rang a third time I answered with, "Zach...I can't talk right now."  The middle school secretary was on the phone, wanting to know "what was happening with Zach's transportation."  I wanted to crawl into a hole and die, but instead I laughed.  I couldn't believe that any of this was happening.

That's when Lexi started to do the pee-pee dance.  She was holding her crotch and whining.  I knew this was an emergency, but the only bathroom on the eighth floor was down a few hallways and through a few doors.  I couldn't just point and let her run.  Was it totally selfish and inappropriate for me to want to finish my meeting first?  Probably. But at that point Dr. McClure was writing prescriptions and I was writing the [fat] check. She could wait...at least I hoped so.

I was all apologies as I collected the girls and their things and shuffled out the door.  The doctor was chuckling.  Although his kids are 20 years past my kids' current stage, he assured me that he understood my plight.  I couldn't imagine that was really true, but he was kind to say it.

As we rounded the corner to the bathroom, the secretary at Gavin's preschool called. Gavin had a fever and needed to go home.  To this I replied with a shrill, "WHAT?!?!" Clearly I over-reacted, but the timing of the call was pretty crazy.  I told the secretary I was 20-30 minutes away, but I would be there as soon as I could.  Meanwhile, I couldn't find the women's bathroom.  After walking up and down the hall a few times, I sent Lexi into the men's bathroom, hoping that it was empty.  It was.  I ignored my own bursting bladder.  While we waited for the elevator, I called a friend to see if she could rescue Zach, who had now been waiting at the school about 40 minutes.  I walked onto the elevator without thinking and the call dropped, but eventually we connected again and she agreed to deliver Zach to the right school.  Then I called the middle and elementary school secretaries to inform them of the new plan.

I took a few deep breaths on the way to the preschool.  Lexi pestered me about what kind of treat she would get.  I wondered what treat I should get for surviving the last hour.  We picked up Gavin, who was warm to the touch but clearly feeling just fine.  He raced down the hall to the exit doors.  I confirmed with his teacher that Gavin can't attend school tomorrow because of the fever.  Just great.

After collecting Gavin from school, we drove through McDonald's for 10:00 a.m. ice cream cones.  The kids also talked me into a cheese pizza from Little Caesar's next door. We ate a very early lunch, picnic-style, on the floor in front of the TV.  It took me an hour to come down from the morning's adrenaline rush.

Maybe when my alarm rings tomorrow, I will actually get up and go to the gym.  Clearly, I need to exercise, both for my waistline AND my mental health.

Measuring up

Garry bought a super-fancy bathroom scale [with his birthday money] that is smart enough to remember people who usually stand on it and calculate all kinds of things besides weight [like perhaps how many Peanut M&Ms I ate to cause so much weight gain in April].  So the other day Garry was programming the scale with baseline stats for every family member.  I thought that recording the kids' information might be fun for future reference.

Zach

Age: 11.5

Height: 5'3"

Weight: 101.6 lbs

Tyler

Age: 9.25

Height: 4'6"

Weight: 75 lbs

Gavin

Age: 5.42

Height: 3'7"

Weight: 47 lbs

Lexi

Age: 3.97

Height: 3'3"

Weight: 32.8 lbs

Kate

Age: 1.67

Height: 2'8"

Weight: 25.1

I love these little rascals, even though "little" doesn't describe most of them anymore.

Set to fly

Zach is doing a science experiment involving the 100-meter dash, so we've been at the middle school track several times in recent weeks.  One day Zach's buddy Jaden tagged along for the experiment, and after Zach ran, the boys took turns jumping off the top of a hill.  I took a few photos, glad to capture a moment in time when boys were just being boys and enjoying a gorgeous Saturday afternoon.

As I watched these boys leap into the air again and again, I couldn't help but think of the leap my heart is making as Zach grows up.  He is approaching many changes and increasingly important decisions in his life.  I hope that as he runs forward and starts to fly, he has the gift of good friends at his side.