Goats and Flip Flops

It was a week full of lessons, but it all started with wearing flip flops out on a farm. My son's violin teacher basically has a farm in her back yard. After my son has his violin lesson we are allowed outside to look for chicken eggs, pet the goats and horses and feed the baby chickens. This week I was walking the farm being followed by a goat, not just any goat, but the big, tall goat whose head comes up to my shoulder. As I stopped to look in the chicken coop, I caught my breath as this extremely sharp pain went shooting through my toe!! I yelped and yelped and the goat finally moved off my toe. Looking down at my painful, throbbing toe, a layer of skin missing and blood oozing out of my toe, I should realize:

Lesson #1, do not wear flip flops on a farm!!

Well, next door to the violin farm was another farm that had a litter of kittens that needed a home. Impulsively, Nana (my mother) decided to take home a six week old kitten. I could not believe it. I got right on the phone texting my sister with an OMG message. Nana is known to be extremely impulsive, then later doubts her decision and my sister and I are there to pick up the pieces. We got half way home, kitten in tow, and Nana decided she needed one more kitten, so they would have friend. This stemming back to her being an only child I am sure. Anyway, we trek back to the farm, pick up another kitten and are on our way home with my inner monologue and negativity running rampant.

Lesson #2, maybe all decisions do not have to be rationalized, calculated, or have an exhaustive pro and con list before a decision is made. These kittens have won Nana's heart, have kept her occupied with a true sense of purpose, and provided her great entertainment and company.

Lesson #3, really needs no explanation: get rid of a car when its repairs are more expensive then a car payment!!!! Car problems really bite!!!

The Dentist

This is how my daughter may be smiling for the next 3 to 4 years.

Well, to explain, we went to the dentist after her front tooth mysteriously turn a grey and blackish color. How odd, I do not remember any hitting, fighting or collisions that she cried out or screamed so I figured maybe there was something really wrong with her gums.

As the dentist peered into her mouth he asked what the tooth trauma was, what she feel into or what hit her in the mouth. My little girl is so brave and stubborn that if she did not want to cry after an incident for fear of embarrassment or just to show her brother how tough she was, she would not cry. So, who knows what actually hit her tooth.

The bad part..........in a month if the tooth looks more discolored, is loose or causing pain they will pull it, and she will have a hole in her little smile until her adult tooth grows in.

Please allow me a moment to interpret the wonderful creation above.

The first week of school my son completed an "All About Me" booklet. I took the booklet out of his backpack, looked at his beautiful coloring on the front cover, the time he took to draw his detailed pirate ship on a page, and his statement that his favorite aspect of school was playing on the playground with his sister. I continued to flip through the book with such pride. Then, I found my way to the page labeled "My Family." With anticipation I looked at the picture and read the statement he had written below.

"Mom has to clean the floor"

"Daddy gives me hugs"

His two statements about his family, and this is what he depicts. It is just so wrong on so many levels. Maybe Daddy needs to take on more household chores so mom is not always saying "after I finish.......(whatever chore is being completed)!!!

What a Day

The day is winding down, the house is quiet, and I can proudly say I made it through the day. But the day did not start off so blissful.

This morning, Mama Mia Maria husband came downstairs to ask who bled in our bathroom. Well, as I took inventory, I found that the 2 children were blood free, the dog was still the yellow lab color he was the night before, and the one cat downstairs checked out just fine. By process of elimination, we started hunting the house for cat #2. Underneath my daughters bed was the culprit. We saw he was bleeding from an unmentionable spot and both my husband and I caught our breath. This could not be good. By the time we got the cat carrier into the house, as we knew he was off to see the vet, the cat had taken refuge under the safety of our bed. Mama Mia Maria husband had to tear apart the bed to find the poor cat wedged under there. Seems on the surface an easy task, but add two children who want to help to the mix and it was a circus show.

After this elaborate production of catching the cat, I could not get a vet appointment till the afternoon. When the time of the appointment finally arrived, the cat was so unhappy. He obviously did not feel well, and had been in his cat carrier way longer then he felt just. In the heat of the day he had experienced a car ride for school pick up, what a mad house that was with noisy kids and horns honking, then he had to endure the birds chirping in the waiting room of the vets office.

The doctor came in and started her examine and felt it would be best to get an x ray, blood work etc. etc. etc. After a bit if sedation, and a shaved tush, the doctor concluded that he had puncture wounds near the rectum, which as an indoor cat, could have only been inflicted by our other 4 1/2 pound girl cat. There was relief that this was not the end for our boy, it was not cancer or anything that was not treatable. He will come home in the morning and start his recovery. After a doctor visit, sedation, x -rays, blood work, shaving, flushing wounds, pain pills and antibiotics, I might as well just sign my paycheck over to the vet.

Through this all, I found a great moral. This boy cat is cranky, moody, selfish, and not always nice to the girl cat, which, in the end, will always come back to bit you in the ass.

My Day

Whew!!! What a morning. This is how my daughter spent her morning. As bad as it looks, I am grateful, for it could have been worse.

We dropped my son off to school, went to my work for a brief period of time, and went back to school for the PTSA meeting. It was not until we arrived home and I could not get her Strawberry soda quick enough, that my daughter started into a full on tantrum with screaming, crying and snaking around on our floor.

I have learned through the past 3 1/2 years of my daughter's life, with consultation from her auntie, whose personality my daughter has, that it is best to leave her alone and let her work it out. Meltdowns are often a plea for alone time.

So, in the middle of her meltdown, I left her alone to start a load of laundry. When it became quiet I went in search of her in the house. I saw she was not downstairs and started walking upstairs to find her in her room with her door closed. I am 100% sure she was sitting with her back against the door so I could not get in. A few minutes later she walked out of her room and I asked if she was alright, to which she replied "I'm o.k." Then her door shut again. The next time she emerged from behind her closed door life was good and she was composed.

Like I had mentioned above, it could have been worse. This tantrum could have taken place at my work, or during the PTSA meeting. I am glad that she feels like home is a place where she can "let loose'" and feel comfortable enough to do so. To me, that means as a parent, I have provided her a safe place, where emotions and feelings are safe to express, and underneath it all she knows she will be loved, even after the melt down of all meltdowns.

Mixed Emotions

It was an afternoon of mixed emotions. I met my son at the school gate at the end of his day to be advised by his teacher that he did not have the opportunity to play at recess because of the air advisory that had been given in our city. We continue to feel the effects of the California wild fires by having smoke sock in our city. The air quality was so poor that any child at my son's school who was immune compromised or had asthma had to stay indoors with the school nurse.

It was just last week that I had struggled with whether or not to put a medical alert band on my son due to his asthma. I in no way wanted to single him out, or make him feel any different then the other students. After agonizing with the decision, I had him wear his medical alert band for my peace of mind. To make sure his teacher, school nurse and other staff knew if he said he was having a hard time breathng or coughing he would be taken seriously.

Here we are a week later, and it is not my son's medical band that has differentiated him from his peers, it is the actual disease itself. If he felt different because of his blue medical alert band, then I am sure he really felt different when he could not go outside to run and play with his friends.

I do know that the school had his best interest in mind. I no more wanted my son to be back in the ER because playing in the smoke triggered his asthma. I so don't want him excluded or singled out, but it seems as though both my son and I are going to have to work on coping with our feelings and emotions that his asthma has brought forth.