Two Days Late...

...with a post about Marley on her 9th birthday. But that's okay, she was 10 days late being born--that was much worse than being late with a birthday post. Don't you think?

I don't write posts about the kids on their birthdays every year. One kid would plan my demise if I waxed poetic about him. The other doesn't really care or think about it but I am just not quite articulate enough to do this type of post justice.

Still, I've been looking at her lately and seeing that "O-my-she-grew-up-overnight" change that happens periodically. And I feel guilty. The last two years I've been sucked into the vortex of school, laptop addiction, and general life challenges. I guess you could say I've been a disengaged parent. So she's growing up, finishing third grade and sometimes I wish I could turn back the clock and have a do-over. Because I have no actual expectation that will happen, I am hanging on for the next few weeks so I can finish this semester and then compensate inappropriately with manicures and movies and painting ceramics at ridiculous prices.

Marley is a kid who has challenged me from the beginning. She wouldn't sleep when I wanted her to. She wouldn't stop pouring things from one container into another. She wouldn't stop drawing on any surface she could find. She is always VERY, VERY LOUD and she doesn't sit still.

We are completely different. COMPLETELY. My other kid, the one I'm not allowed to talk about, is a lot like me. I get him.

I am a worrier, full of anxieties about the future that I try to keep hidden.
Marley lives in the present. It is all about the NOW for her.

I am always looking for the deeper meaning and often unsettled.
Marley stops at the pretty, shiny surface of things and is satisfied.

I am uncoordinated and content to laze my days away on the couch.
Marley is impressively coordinated and wants to go, go, go. Cartwheels, splits, jumps, skipping, running, flipping around the bars. Nonstop action.

I love to read.
Marley? Not so much. There are BETTER things to do with her time.

I don't go for the obviously girly stuff.
Marley is pink and purple, 24/7.

I'm sure I'm not not the first parent who wondered what the Lord was thinking by giving her a child so opposite in temperament. But I might guess he gave me my opposite so that the two of us wouldn't drown in instropectiveness and a lack of sunlight. Who knows... regardless, I look at her and I just can't stand it... I love my little blonde dynamo.



Here's a post I wrote a while back with pics of me and Marley.

Ballet Shoes

Because I decided that my entire family should suffer through the most intense grad school semester I could pull together, I decided to do something special for Marley--a mother-daughter experience--before I get buried in school-related stuff. We hosted a mother-daughter book club party today. We chose to read Ballet Shoes by Noel Streatfield. We evited a few friends and read the book. For ages 9-12, the book was more than Marley could handle on her own, so I read it out loud to her. We didn't begin as early as we should, so we ended up reading 1-3 chapters a day for 10 days or so.

Marley enjoyed the book very much and I took advantage of her willingness to sit and listen to work on her comprehension skills. Every night that we read, we did a mini-review of the main points of each chapter. Granted, by the 15th chapter, we only covered the most recent chapters and didn't go back all the way to chapter one.  We read the last 18 pages just two hours before our guests were due to arrive.

I really wanted this to be something different for Marley. I wanted her to experience reading and discussing a good book, but I also thought my social butterfly needed some friends around her to enhance the experience... and a craft. Marley dearly loves a craft. I tweeted and facebook status'd for help and Veronica over at Toddled Dredge came through with No Sew Tutus. My in-laws scoured thrift stores for china cups and saucers. Ballet Shoes takes place in 1930s London, so of course, tea was the refreshment of the day. Used teacups are cheap and who cares if they break? The local bakery was the source for yummy tarts and petit fours. Sticky Fingers Scone mix was used for plain and chocolate chip scones. There was lemonade for the girls and tea and coffee for the moms. The final touch was 20s and 30s music courtesy of internet radio. 

Before our guests arrived, I gave Marley a crash course on hostessing. The hosts pick last. Hosts offer to take the moms' purses. The hosts offer refreshments. She did a wonderful job although her discussion faciliation was rather interesting. She tended to interrupt to move on to the next question or to share her own point of view.  As it became time for our guests to leave, Marley was a little too enthusiastic in her goodbyes. She was to go home with one of her friends for an overnighter and had her bagged pack and slung over her shoulder, ready to move on to the next experience!

Yesterday, Marley and I took some time to have discussion questions ready. We asked about favorite characters and events in the book. We considered what type of conversations we might want to have with the characters. Marley was very interested in asking what Great Uncle Matthew collected (Fossils!!!!) and wondering if everyone knew what GUM meant (Great Uncle Matthew!!!!).  My favorite question that Marley came up with, is "If you had influenza, what would you do... take medicine or not?" The girls very enthusiastically shared their thoughts and opinions. Marley had passed out questions to each of them so they could take turns. Seriously, it was just too cute. Of course, my cynical teenager had to tell me tonight that he didn't want to hurt my feelings but the party today was the DUMBEST THING EVER. I laughed at him because what else would a teenage boy think about a 1930s themed, mother-daughter book club party?

Here's a slideshow of our party. Because I don't have permission, I am only posting pictures of Marley, the tutus, the teacups. If you have a daughter, I highly recommend hosting a book club. After the discussion, the girls talked and decided that for their NEXT book club, they would read Theater Shoes, also by Noel Streatfield. When a party gets kids excited about reading, that's a very good thing! (Of course, I don't know if the moms are ready for another 200+ page book read. The girls might have to wait for a couple of months!

Marley and Me and Marley and Me

(May contain information that to some people may be considered spoilers.)

My daughter has been obsessed with the movie Marley and Me ever since she saw the first trailer for it. What's better than a movie in which a main character has your name? Weeks ago, we bought the junior version of the book, Marley, A Dog Like No Other. The last week or so, every time a commercial comes on she squeals like a 60s teenager watching the Beatles.

Today was finally the day. We went with her best friend and her family to see the movie. In many ways, it was what I expected. I laughed. I cried. There were many scenes that reminded me of our dog, Bob (aka Robert Otis). There was more of the "human" side of the story than in the junior version of the book. I can't compare them because I haven't read the actual book. I suspect that the mischief Marley got into was actually downplayed for the movie.

What I didn't expect, though, in a PG rated movie--that the film production company had to know every dog loving girl in the United States was going to want to see--was the sex and violence.

Sex and violence you ask? Okay, it wasn't like a Quentin Tarentino film. However, there were some things I wasn't too sure about. Jen and John, Marley's owners decide to have a baby and we get to see that it involves some activity in the bedroom. We also get to see them take their clothes off to go skinny dipping. These scenes are really nothing compared to what you will find in your average PG-13 movie, but they were still more overt than I, personally, would prefer. My last quibble is one scene where a neighbor is attacked and stabbed during a home robbery. We never see the attack, but we hear Marley barking, a scream, and then John rushing outside and helping the neighbor who is holding her side that is bleeding. She states that "he" threatened to stab her if she screamed, but she screamed anyway. Oh... I was just not really comfortable with this bit of real world danger popping up in the cute doggy movie.

I don't know. Maybe I am overreacting. I certainly don't think my daughter suffered any lasting damage. I do wish I knew about the scenes beforehand so I could have prepared her for them. I also joked with my friend that maybe we would not need to have "The Talk" with our kids about how you make a baby, after all.

What do you think? Have you seen the movie? Do you think my concerns are valid?

Marley News

Hail to the Chief!!

Bob and Me

Marley has been so excited because the movie Marley and Me is coming out.  I guess if I were a kid and a movie was coming out with my name in the title, I'd be excited too.  She wanted to read the book but I explained the book was for adults and too hard for her to read herself.  Of course, at the bookstore one day, we found the junior version, Marley, A Dog Like No Other.  It said it was for ages 8-12.  She is definitely more on the 8 year old end of things rather than the 12 year old, reading-wise, but we bought it, anyway.  She read it and when I would ask her about what was happening, she would reply, "I have no idea."  (A sure sign she was reading a book that was too difficult for her!)  She insisted she was doing fine and so when she finished the book, I asked her about the end.  It was all fine, she said.  Marley was sick but he got better.

???

I happened to know that Marley did not get better.  I turned to the last few pages of the book and showed her a few key words that indicated Marley was not living happily ever after.  I got a shoulder shrug and that was about it.  Except that being a reading major now, I was not content to let that go.  We would read the book together.  Well, Paul and I have taken turns, so I've missed out on some of it.  Unfortunately, I'm getting all the bits at the end where Marley is going deaf, half-blind, and suffering through arthritic hips.  Tonight I had to stop every half a page to get myself under control. I soldiered on and managed to finishe the chapter.  Paul will have to finish the book with her. I can't even think about going to see that movie.  I'll need two boxes of Kleenex, a bottle of ibuprofen, and therapy.

It wouldn't be so difficult (I'm not that much of a softy), if it weren't for Bob.  Our Bob.  While I doubt anyone would buy a book about mine and Paul's life with that dog, there are definitely a few good stories to tell.  Bob shared some personality characteristics with Marley the dog.  He was enthusiastic beyond belief and Paul and I were often at out wit's end.  Physically, like Marley (the dog), he also had arthritic hips. He was very uncomfortable by the end and when we ripped up the carpet to have the hardwood floors refinished he changed completely. It was like he aged years overnight.  It broke my heart. So, when I read about Marley getting older, I remember my dog--because he was defnitely mine, not Paul's.

In honor of Bob, I am reposting something from my other blog, So Cal Cinema.  It has a few pictures of my boy and Paul in his Sally Jesse Raphaelesque frames that were so popular at the time. It also tells a funny story about Marley's remembering him.  

Here you go, from August, 2006:

Speak, Bob! Speak! (Speak to My Heart!)

Bob tries to convince Paul to give up some yummies.

The following conversation took place in our car Sunday on the way to church. Playing in the cd player was the first song, titled "Speak to My Heart," from our friend Erin's (also known as Elina) brand new CD.***

Colin: "Did you hear what Marley just said?"

Me: "No, what did she say?"

Colin: "She said, 'Colin, does this song make you remember Bob?'"

????

Paul and I chuckled and Marley made don't-make-fun-of-me noises. We laughed, because, if you don't know, Bob was our dog who died almost 4 years ago and "Speak to My Heart" is a song about falling in love. Marley was only 2 1/2 years old, but she remembers him. Her grandparents have a big, stuffed hound dog which she calls Bob. She calls Grandpa on the phone and asks to speak to Bob. At that point, Grandpa uses his doggy voice so that Marley and Bob can talk. I guess the song was just melancholy enough or something to remind her about how she feels about Bob being gone. I don't know. I just know that I will definitely have a different point of reference every time I hear that song!

Bob as a puppy. He was just a few months old here. I don't know if you can accurately assess the look in his eye from this picture but I would call it his Make Me look.

This is our last picture of Bob taken just a few days before he was put to sleep. Boo Hoo! (He kind of looks like he knew the jig was up, doesn't he?)

24 down, 6 to go

Oh for a Way Back Machine

It may just be that I'm close to entering the Red Tent but I am feeling very emotional these days about my daughter.  There is just so much stuff surrounding her these days.   I am so aware of where her life is right now--more than I was with Colin (probably because she was an infant when he was this age.  Oy.  Now I feel guilty about that.  He was, in some ways, completely neglected at that time.)

ANYWAY...

Tonight while Paul, Colin and I were still lounging at the table after dinner, Marley was be-bopping around the house.  She passed by Paul and he stopped her to inquire if she'd been growing.  Paul and I have this tendency to ask this of our children in an accusatory tone: "Hey! What have you been up to?  Did you get taller last night?"  Because, really, it is astounding how you can look at your child one day and see a different, taller version the next. It is very unsettling.

We took her to The Wall of Measurement and she had not really grown any in the last month. But there are other differences.  Paul and I both see them.  The parents of her classmates see them.  She is changing. But the changes aren't just physical.  Her interests, her ability to manage herself, her awareness is all changing, too.

And I can't help but think about her future--both immediate and not so immediate.  Maybe her recent experience with being cast as Mrs. Gloop is influencing me.  Her disappointment was total.  She is, as I hope she will time and time again, turning her disappointment into a positive experience.  But I know there are so many more out there.  Lurking, like John Irving's Under Toad, waiting to catch her unawares.

She will feel unloved.

She will feel unattractive.

She will feel unimportant.

She will feel less than.

She will want something and not get it.

She will not want something and get it anyway.

She will be hurt by others.

She will hurt others.

It just goes on and on.

But I watch her at gymnastics, getting to ring the bell because she did a pullover by herself for the first time.

I see her confidence building.

I hear her teacher telling her what a wonderful job she is doing as Mrs. Gloop.

I see her confidence building.

I see her being given responsibilities in her class because she has been working at being a good role model for the younger kids.

I see her confidence building.

I hope it is enough.

I hope that she can internalize the positive experiences and the disappointments because together they are the warp and weave of life.  You become the person you are by how you deal with both.  And I pray for her.  I pray incoherent, gutteral, purely emotional prayers because the words are inadequate to cover all the protection and blessings I want for her.

And then I pray for myself to survive it all. Is there any way to get back to the simplicities of this age?

Marley, 18 mos. old

22 down, 8 to go

A title escapes me...

but those ever favored ellipses do not! (Really, I don't what it is about those little dots, but I just love 'em!)

I am dead on my feet tonight and I just remembered I owe the NaBloPoMo gods a post sacrifice. I guess the title could have been Mary vs. the Volcano! I do feel like I have a brain cloud.

As tired as I am, I am feeling well tonight. The tiredness is from a few days of messed up sleep. I took a nap at 10 am yesterday. 10 am!! I slept for 2 1/2 hours, so it is little wonder that I did not go to sleep until after 1 am. I kept myself busy tonight and refused to take a nap. Maybe I'll get to sleep before midnight. Woo Hoo!!

There is good news to report on the Mrs. Gloop front. Marley worked on her lines this morning before I woke up and then we worked on them together before she left for school. She was excited to get to school because it was her day, along with the other third graders, to work with the director. I was optimistic that she had processed most of her disappointment (at least until it was time for the padded costume.)

I had decided to talk with the teachers to give them a heads up about what had happened last night and to ask them to keep an eye on her for me. I went to pick her up early, hoping to find my chance to talk to one or both of her teachers. The kids were still in the multi-purpose room working with Mrs. S., the director. Mrs. J., one of her teachers, saw me and approached me. She told me, without my even saying anything yet, that Marley was doing a great job so far. She and her little (not so) Augustus had made all the kids and teachers laugh with their performance. Mrs. J. said she thought that Marley and her fictional son were going to be the funniest part of the play.

Granted, it is just the first day of rehearsal, but I am so happy to hear that Marley was really going for it today. During lunch, which the third grade girls eat with the teachers every Friday, the other girls and the teachers all complimented her on her performance. Mrs. J. said that you could see Marley pick herself up and hold her body differently. (Doesn't that make you want to cry happy tears?)

I still explained to Mrs. J. the drama of the night before, and she will watch Marley to make sure she isn't having a hard time. My hope, though, is that the positive reinforcement and success she experiences will get us through. Mrs. J. also said that she will talk to the director about the degree of padding Mrs. Gloop requires. Marley is smaller than her "son" and Mrs. J. is thinking the contrast of a taller and chubbier Augustus and a shorter, thinner Mrs. Gloop might actually be funnier. I want to balance being sympathetic to Marley with helping her see that some things just have to be done a certain way, so if she has to wear the padded suit, so be it. Right after I finished talking to Mrs. J., my friend Rebecca leaned over to tell me that Marley was doing such a great job, she was so funny, etc. Yeah! More positive feedback!

After school as Marley and I were walking to the car, I talked to her a little about how she felt and explained that I had received a glowing report from Mrs. J. She played it very casual but then told me, "Mrs. S. said I was funny, too." You have to know Mrs. S. and how the children view her to know that this was a big deal. I was also able to give Marley some good, albeit tempered, good news. Mrs. J. is pretty certain that Marley will wear a mic for the show!

I could tell that I needed to start pulling back and stop talking about it. She was going to get self-conscious about it, but what a turnaround! We may still have some bumpy moments--she isn't all that happy about one scene where she has to squish her son's cheeks--but I am very optimistic and relieved... and grateful for my friends (bloggy and otherwise) who listen to me, Marley's teachers and classmates who encouraged her, Paul who was as much at a loss as I was but supported my instinctive, flying-by-the-seat-of-my-pants parenting.

Mostly I am proud of Marley, first, for being honest about how she felt.  I never really explained that for all the drama, she did a pretty good job of using her 'I' statements.  I feel sad, It hurts my feelings, etc.  She pulled herself together and had such a positive attitude.  I can't wait to see her performance in a few weeks.

14 down, 16 to do 

Tales of a Third Grade Extra

Marley has been cast as Mrs. Gloop, the mother of Augustus Gloop, in her class production of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. She had her heart set on the role of Veruca Salt but seemed to accept yesterday her given role.

That was yesterday. Today, after the play meeting, she dissolved into hysterical tears. She doesn't want to wear a padded costume (the Gloops are a hefty family), she doesn't want to take German language classes (I tried to explain she just had to say her lines with an accent), she was upset that she NEVER gets an important part, and the ultimate insult? She doesn't think she is going to be one of the children chosen to wear a mic.  (She might get mic'd but without knowing for sure I wasn't going to get her hopes up.)

Seriously. What's a mom to do? The third graders get the "bigger" parts. The kinders are going to be candy, the first graders and a few second graders are the Oompa Loompas and all the other roles are divided among the rest of the second and third graders. Marley is not the best actress or singer of the bunch. She got an appropriate role. She got a role with more lines than the previous year. But she is devastated.

This is no my strong suit as a parent. On one hand, I understand why she is upset. Getting to wear the mics is something all the children covet. She's not stupid; she knows that Mrs. Gloop is not a key role. She wants to be a star. On the other hand, every person can't be the star. There are other kids who are more talented--or at least louder. She is a part of a community and this is not the first time she is going to be disappointed with her part, whether it be on stage or in life. Do I tough love it or just lend a sympathetic ear.  Do I do some combination of both?

I probably spent 10 minutes just watching her cry and feeling a combination of helpless and frustrated. Finally, I pulled out the big guns: bribery. I know, I know, it is the evil parenting technique designed to spoil your children and give them a sense of entitlement that will hinder their every relationship.

BUT (watch me defend myself here)...

This is not a common practice of ours.
This is not an everyday experience of hers.
I didn't know what else to do.

I told her that I understood why she was upset, but that the director gives out the roles and there is nothing we can do about it. I said we could talk to her teachers so they at least knew she was sad; however, her teachers would not change her role. I told her that if she cooperated with her part, practiced saying her part in a German accent, cooperated with the padded costume, and exhibited a good attitude, we would buy her a new Nintendo DS game.

She sobbed and sniffed a little more, but it wasn't too long before she started quizzing me. Could it be a new game and not a used game? Could it be any game she wanted? Could we go get it today after we ran her lines?

Great. Another dilemma. Another parental cave in. After telling her that the point of a reward is to get it at the end so that her cooperation was insured, I decided that I couldn't take looking at her tear-streaked face. I am such a sucker. (Paul will agree with me.) We compromised and she knows that if, at any point, she doesn't cooperate, she will have the game taken away. (And I know I will follow through with that--no problem.)

As I type this, she is sitting on the living room floor trying to figure out how to buy another puppy on Nintendogs: Lab and Friends. In a few minutes, we'll run through her lines again. She needs to practice saying "I vant" instead of "I want." Wish us luck!

13 down, 17 to go

My Cheerless Leader

Marley and Paul went to Target a couple of weeks ago to get a poodle skirt so that Marley could be a 50's girl for Halloween.

Somehow we ended up with this:

From The Cheerless Leader

Okay... it isn't our usual thing, but what the heck. What better time than Halloween for a cheerleader with no cheer?

Here are a few pictures from our night (the previous one was from last night when she went to the local farmer's market with some friends):

Angst and Icing

Somehow, I started typing this post to share a project Marley and I worked on last night and I keep backspacing to delete all the parental, existential angst that keeps coming out instead.

Only I could manage angst out of icing.

Last year at the school carnival, I was talking with one of Marley's teachers and the subject of right brain versus left brain preference came up. I am decidedly a right brain, metaphor happy, start with the biggest picture before zeroing in to make a point, person. Thus, angst and icing.

So, I will try to summarize. Marley and I made cakes with fondant icing. I wish I was the kind of mom who did this kind of thing for her more often. Done.

The cakes:

After several episodes of Amazing Cakes (WE tv), she has been rabid to bake a cake. I looked up a recipe for fondant icing, whipped out a boxed cake mix and lo, please watch a slideshow of our creative process and the resulting creations:

Candle Wax in Hair Update

A few people have asked me how I got the candle wax out of Marley's hair.

A quick Google search found result after result of how to get candle wax out of carpet but precious little on how to get wax out of hair.

Finally.  FINALLY.  I found some sort of "Ask the Scientist" website.  The first solution was some sort of glue remover.  I don't know about you guys, but I don't keep glue remover in the house.

The solution was vegetable oil.  So that's what we tried.  It seemed to help.  I kind of crumbled up the pieces of wax in her hair and the oil seemed to help it slide off without pulling out too much hair.

Of course, now I had to get vegetable oil out of her hair.  I sent her to the shower and had her wash her hair a couple of times.  Wet, it was hard to tell how well it worked.  By the next morning, I could tell her hair was still a little gummy, but now, after a few more washes, all is right in the world.

Till the next time.  And I'm sure there will be some sort of next time!

Because it's there...

In the comments of my last post, several people asked me why, exactly, my daughter was dressed as a blue M & M.

The answer is simple... because I happen to own a blue M & M costume.

A few years ago, Marley insisted that I dress up for Halloween. I was planning on refusing her demand until I came across the aforementioned costume on sale. All it required was that I pull it on over my regular clothes. A few days ago, while rummaging around in a closet, Marley pulled it out and his been playing with it ever since. My favorite thing she does is use it like a fort. She curls up in it, all puffed out--the costume, not her--and just hangs out.

I was hoping to post a picture to go along but she won't cooperate. I'll have to stalk her.

Now, about that mathmatics and Chinese thing...

Oddly enough, only one person asked me to elaborate on that.

Here's the gist, straight from the book:


"The discussion of Chinese orthographic effect on students' mathmatical performance is drawn from research conducted by Miura and her associates (Miura, 1987; Miura, Kim, Chang, & Okamoto, 1988; Miura & Okamoto, 1995). These scolars have claimed that numbers are inseparable from language; and, individuals becoming literate in Asian languages that have roots in ancient Chinese, such as Chinese, Japanese, and Korean, share a common numerical
language structure. In essence, the numerical names in these three languages are congruent with the traditional Base 10 numeration system. . . This group of researchers argued that spoken numerals (e.g., eleven, twenty, thirty) in an alphabetic language such as English, are not congruent with the Base 10 system, that is, the elements of ten and ones contained in these numerals are not apparent in the spoken word. Consequently, an alphabetic language system may not provide sufficient scaffolding for some children as they advance from single digits to multidigit concepts in learning place value. In comparison, children from Asian language groups whose numerals are congruent with the Base 10 system benefit more readily from the relationship between spoken numerals and the concepts." (from Sociocultural Contexts of Language and Literacy, Chapter 7, Ji-Mei Chang)

Before everyone goes getting all impressed with my being able to read this, not all of my reading is this technical. This particular article happened to focus a lot on the specifics of the Chinese language so that it could serve as background information in teaching Chinese ELL students (English Language Learner). Throughout most of this article, my eyes were pretty much rolled allllllll the way back into my head.

So, there you go. The answers to your burning questions. If you have anymore burning questions relating to the nature of reading, just let me know.

Fine Art - Then and Now

Little Girl in a Blue Armchair
Mary Cassat
oil on canvas, 1878
National Gallery of Art

Lttle Girl in a Video Game Rocker playing Guitar Hero 3
Paul-LUE
digital photograph, 2007
Mary-LUE's Laptop

November update with lots of () and ...

Wow! I can't believe I haven't posted since the day after Halloween! I think that is definitely the longest bit of time between posts on this blog. I am a little chagrined to think of all the time I spent bemoaning how little time I would have for blogging when I started school. I actually managed somewhat nicely until November. Multiple papers, out-of-town visitors, etc. conspired to finally knock the wind out of my blogging sails. My Google reader regulary informs me there are as many as 180 posts to read. 180 posts??!!!! I periodically hit "Mark All As Read" and move on.

School is slowing down though. I have: one paper to write this week (reporting on my teaching of a reading comprehension strategy to three students); one Power Point presentation showing a lesson plan which incorporates technology in the classroom (Guess what? My lesson involves blogging!); four chapters from my content area literacy book; and, one online response project. That's it. After those few assignments I will have completed my first semester of grad school. Yeah me! (And, of course, yeah! Paul, Marley and Colin for having to live through it!)

Marley Update: I've had many people ask my about Marley. I pretty much left everyone with a Strep Throat cliff hanger. She perked up within a couple of days of being on her antibiotics and has been fine ever since. I has some apprehension because about day 7 of her medication she went on strike and refused to take the pills. We got one or two more in her after that and I intended to call the doctor to either get his okay to stop or a prescription for some liquid meds to finish her out. Of course, I became distracted and never got that call made. She hasn't had a relapse and it has been a few weeks, so I think we are out of the woods on this one.

Other than that, life is, you know, what you might expect. Paul is gearing up to hit the road after being home for weeks (lovely, lovely weeks). Colin prepares for his driver's license permit and behind-the-wheel driver's education. (Theoretically I am happy for him and ready for him to drive. Seeing as how he has not actually driven a car yet, it remains to be seen if my theoretical acceptance will translate into actual acceptance that my baby...sniff... boy... sniff... is DRIVING!!!!

Oh yes, life-wise, tomorrow, 11/26, is my birthday. 43. In spite of all the good things going on in my life, I face 43 with less enthusiam than 42. I can't say why. I know I've enjoyed being an age that equates to the Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe and Everything. What does a has-been Ultimate Answer do when she leaves that magical number behind? I guess we'll find out this year.

There is so much more to blog...

• I never got to finishing BubandPie's tag of five influential books...
• I've been on a period costume drama DVD binge: both Pride and Prejudices (Firth vs. MacFadyen: I have my definitive fave, but at the risk of an all out Darcy War, I will remain silent as to my preference), Wives and Daughters, North and South (again!)...
• I've also been reading all those books (as ebooks of all things).
• School! I've learned so much about content area literacy and adult developmental education. I am enjoying what I'm learning and am excited to share some of it here...
• Sleeping with Bread. I've not baked my bread of gratitude here for such a long time, yet there is so much to be thankful for...
• In January, Paul and I will celebrate 20 years of marriage... so much to blog about that!

I've missed the companionship I get in the blogosphere. I wish I could have kept up with everyone and kept everyone up-to-speed. But well, isn't there some saying about wishes?

School is winding down... I'll get back in the swing of things. At least until January 18th when my spring semester starts and I am taking 9 units. (9? Oy!)

In the meantime, I leave you with this poem... just because I like it:

There Is A River by S.A. Griffen

there is a cheerful ignorance

a chance meeting and

luck like gold that cannot be

mined or stolen
a common atom
a dance
and stars that trick the

water with their

certain magic
do not wash your wars in it

take your holy rituals to the

precious fountains built by your

agencies of fear
press your

wine from the fallout

and drink victory
for yes
there is a river

a giving river that will

sing you safely
a river of

light
final

fast

and

free
where you can

disrobe

and leave your casual sadness

walking sideways at the

shore
meet me there

whoever you are

and we will agree to

swim it

together

Halloween 2007: 101.7 Degrees

Medical Update Below

Fortunately, this was after trick or treating. Well... it perhaps wasn't fortunate for all the people she came into contact with. I feel so bad for her, she is really in a bad state. Her head hurts, her tummy hurts, her throat hurts, she can't get comfortable. Poor Supergirl! There must have been some Kryptonite in the candy!

************************************
The next day...

Marley's fever continued to rise last night and it was clear she was in a very sorry state. Because we knew there had recently been a couple of cases of strep throat in her class, we took her in to the doctor first thing this morning. With a temp of 103 (45 minutes after acetaminophen), a red, swollen, pus-y throat, swollen glands, and a headache, the doctor felt comfortable diagnosing strep throat without doing a throat culture. He's been Marley's doctor since the day she was born and has been through her febrile seizures and the resulting antagonism she has felt for anyone in a white lab coat since then. She handles things much better now, but the doctor told me that in addition to her having every clinical sign of strep, it was also Marley--which I took as meaning that he knew she would not easily allow her throat to be swabbed.

So, after 48 hours on antibiotics or 24 hours without fever, she'll be cleared to go back to school.

Yeah Cefzil!

What a week!

Life has gone from zero to 60 in just a few days. (I may be repeating myself here.) We were dealing with soccer practice which wasn't too bad, just two times a week. I was preparing myself mentally for school to begin when word came that our business manager at church had resigned. Could I give a few hours per week to do the deposits, accounts payable, etc. We are a small church and not having these things done in a timely manner would be a disaster. I have covered for this area in the past--two years ago--and so the leadership asked if I was available. I thought I could give 5 - 10 hours per week, but of course, the first week or two took longer. Following all the minutiae of processing checks, entering them into the finance software, etc., take some getting used to.

This week, I attended my first Master's classes. I was a little nerve-wracked about that, which was intensified by my commitment to helping out at church. I'm not very good at having too much schedule to deal with. However, while I was somewhat anxious, I was also certain that I could manage it for a few weeks. One of my classes is only five weeks long and my hope is that the position will be filled with a new, full-time employee in about the same amount of time. (Let me add here that the church is compensating me for my time.)

All of this was further complicated by an issue I was having regarding Marley. She was going to go with her grandparents on a trip. I should have been more than happy for her to go. She's gone with them before; she would have had fun; I am always more than happy to dump share my children with others. Always. I had an uneasy feeling about it which I couldn't shake. I tried to dismiss it. I said she could go. As it got closer to her leaving, I had to sit down and spend some time in prayer and meditation.

During that time, what came to me was this: maybe I was feeling this way because of so many new obligations that were coming my way--maybe not. I spent time examining the anxiety I was having about school and work. I ended up admitting to God that I just didn't know what to do about Marley and the trip. I asked for help. Should she go or should she stay. As I said that prayer, a feeling washed over my heart. That may sound weird but that is exactly what happened. I realized that when I thought about work or school, my anxiety rested in my gut. When I thought about Marley going on the trip, I was feeling something in my heart.

I walked out of my bedroom and went to talk to Paul. I started crying. I can't really explain why. While he wasn't having the same sense that I was, he completely supported me. I spoke to a couple of other moms and the consensus was the same: listen to my heart. So we did. Marley stayed home. I want to explain that I wasn't having any sort of premonition. There was no specific fear that something would happen to her. It was just an overwhelming sense that she shouldn't go.

All of this has left me a little exhausted this week. I am grateful, though, for friends to talk to about it and to Paul for accepting what I was feeling. Marley's grandparents were very accepting when we said she wasn't going. We never really had to explain why. So, whether it was just some sort of emotional overload or some sort of guiding from God, I am at peace with it all. Further, I was able t get everything I needed to get done for work in about 10 hours this week and after my first round of classes, I think I can do it. The work schedule will be heavy, but not too hard. The "graduate level" writing that I was stressing about is not going to be an issue. They want plain, straightforward writing with good content and decent grammar. I can do that.

I feel like I just crossed Niagara Falls on a tightrope. It was scary. I was wobbly but I didn't fall. Whew!

The Joys of Parenting OR Is there an MRI Machine in the House?

Is it possible for an altercation with your seven year old daughter to cause a brain bleed?

If so, then that explains the pain in my head after Marley had a complete malfunction after soccer practice. Now, I'm used to her shenanigans at home but this one resembled something out of a cartoon complete with a tiny mushroom cloud going "POOF" right over her little blonde head.

I was in no mood to listen to her carry on. I was embarrassed. I could not get her to talk to me about what had upset her. Of course, she had no problem telling me about all sorts of other stuff she was unhappy about including but not limited to:

Not wanting to be on a yellow team with a stupid name
Wanting to be on a pink team with pirate in the name
Not wanting to be in the "light"
Wanting Colin to come to her practice
Announcing she is not going to practice next week

And so on and so on.

After passing her off to her father upon our return home with the words: "You need to come out here and deal with her," I proceeded to abdicate all parental responsibility and took a couple (okay, fine--three) ibuprofen. I then waited to see if my brain bleed was going to be fatal.

So far, it hasn't been. So far.

****flip****

Lest I make my daughter sound like a complete monster-child, I will say that her coach works the girls pretty hard. They come running in for water breaks two or three times during practice with faces red from exertion and the heat.

I was also finally able to get her to tell me what had upset her. Her friend's sister has practice immediately following Marley's. I had told her after the last practice that we would stay and play on the playground with her friend. Her friend didn't show up and she was upset.

****flop****

Lest I sound like I am excusing my daughter's bad behavior. I'm not. She has a will of iron which I am sometimes at a loss to deal with. But she received appropriate consequences. Hopefully, they will have made an impression on her.

A Walk Down Memory Lane

I've been frantically looking through boxes hoping to find my marriage certificate or my social security card. Arghh!!! I know they're somewhere. It's a long story but I went looking for both of them today in the place they should've been and they weren't there.

As is the usual case when I am poking around the pictures, I am hit with wave after wave of nostalgia. Since I've been struck with it, I thought I'd share it with you all.

Whoa baby! I think I was near to bursting in this shot.
This picture was taken by the massage therapist who kept
me going during my pregnancy. Unfortunately, I can't remember
how far along I was. Far enough by the looks of that belly.

Would you look at my perfect days-old baby girl?
How much better could it get?

You might think this is pureed peas all over Marley's face.
You'd be half right. This is pureed peas after she'd thrown them up...
all over the place. At least she's happy!

Here I am around 8 months old, I think.
Um... more chubby than cute.
Cool hood ornament.

Too Much of a Good Thing: A Hump Day Hmm-er PSA

The prompt for today's Hump Day Hmm-er is Too Much of a Good Thing.

Well, I can start with what I think is too much of a bad thing. (You might want to skip down a bit if you are not interested in a long-winded rant about my daughter's ear.)



This is my daughter passed out on the couch. She was up around 5 a.m. because of an earache. She went back to sleep around 5:45 a.m. and at 9:30 a.m. was still asleep. She is missing a day of Art Camp because of the earache that won't go away--at least not for long. Since the second week of July we have been trying to tame this earache beast. To no avail. I was sure it was swimmer's ear, an external ear canal infection, because she was in pain when she touched her ear and when she opened her mouth too wide.

Doctor Visit #1: It isn't an external infection, it is an inner one. Give her this five-day antibiotic and keep her out of the pool.

One week later... Her ear starts hurting again. She was in the pool one time at the end of the week with ear plugs. Except for the absence of fever this time, the symptoms are the same including pain when pushing on the ear.

Doctor Visit #2: Her ear is a little bit pink. The ear infection is resolving itself still. Don't give her any more medication except for ibuprofen if her ear hurts. Don't know why it hurts when she touches it. Maybe she is getting some molars that are exacerbating the problem. Keep her out of the pool until her ear stops hurting.

Two weeks later... She has been kept out of the pool for about 10 days. She gets two days (Thursday and Saturday) splashing in a small, inflatable pool in our front yard. On Saturday, I notice her digging in the "bad" ear. I ask her if it hurts. She assures me she doesn't. On Sunday, the same thing happens again. I ask her again if it hurts. She tells me no that it just itches. Sunday evening she is crying that her ear hurts again. I put her back on the ibuprofen.

Monday I call the doctor's office. At visit number two, he had given me a prescription in case she got worse. Because we had days of no ear pain, I think I should call him first. The nurse returns my call and says that he should see her. I make an appointment for Wednesday (today). Yesterday afternoon, Marley starts complaining about her ear. Usually, it is a morning/evening kind of thing because of the cooler air. I have to give her an extra dose of ibuprofen. During bedtime, she is avoiding teeth brushing and in the fuss she bumps her ear. She starts bawling because it hurts. Bad.

After she goes to sleep, I decide to look up swimmer's ear. Just for kicks, you know. Here is what I found:

If your ear aches and you pull on it, wiggle it or push on that little bump (called the tragus) in front of the ear canal and it really hurts, you don't have just any old earache. You have swimmer's ear, an inflammation of the external ear canal (known in medical circles as otitis externa).

I sit on the couch, watching a re-run of House (one of the two "It's a tapeworm!" episodes) and I am fuming. Why should it take three co-pays, possibly two prescriptions, and two different doctors to figure this out? Earaches don't just ache. They hurt... a lot. I remember them vividly. I remember swimmer's ear especially as I had two very bad cases of it, one as a teen and one as an adult.

Grrrr...

Anyway, I just had to get that out of my system. Hopefully when we go for Doctor Visit #3, I won't snap at the doctor. In general, I find him to be quite good. After all, he is the doctor who listened to a teary, desperate woman last year as I told him my list of symptoms which all sounded like hormones and depression and accepted it when I told him that I knew it wasn't hormones or depression. He asked a few questions and shipped me off for a sleep study.

But I am not leaving this doctor's appointment without some ear drops for my daughter.

Moving on, you probably have forgotten that this was supposed to be a Hump Day Hmm-er post. Without further adieu...


The Sun.


A flaming ball of fire. If Earth were too far from the sun, life couldn't exist on this planet. If Earth were too close to the sun, life couldn't exist on this planet. We are just the right distance.

That is a good thing.

Even so, there is still a thing as too much sun.

Too much sun trying to get a tan and when you are older, you might look like this:

(This is actually a rock, but you get the idea, right?)

Too many sunburns, or just too much exposure to the sun in general and you might get this:

(I know, I know, it is disgusting. But skin cancer just ain't pretty, that is all there is to it.)

I was inspired to write about too much sun because I saw that sun picture online today. It made me think about someone I know who has just had two surgeries to remove a melanoma on her leg. Married, mother to three, she is pursuing alternative medicine to heal her body.

I think about a favorite blogger who is waiting to have a mole removed and biopsied.

I remember the eight moles I have had removed. The last one over three years ago. Four or five of those moles were dysplastic nevi, the kind that are more likely to develop into melanoma. (Why haven't I been to the dermatologist in so long?)

I still enjoy getting out in the sun. (I've never, ever been one of those sun worshiper types. A little bit of sun just feels good.) If I am at the beach I always wear sunscreen. However, I've become more diligent about it even for every day use. I always wear sunglasses and often a hat. I've considered a one-woman campaign to bring back the parasol. Some of it is vanity. My skin looks older than 42. Blech! I am also more diligent because I know I am getting to the age where things start to happen. It doesn't mean it is going to. But it might.

The sun is good. We can't live without it. It is a force to be reckoned with, however, and we should be careful about thinking there is no such thing as too much sun.


For more information on sun protection and skin cancer, try The Skin Cancer Foundation.

"Pink is my signature color."

From Steel Magnolias:

Truvy: What are your colors, Shelby?
Shelby: My colors are "blush" and "bashful."
M'Lynn: Her colors are "pink" and pink."
Shelby: My colors are "blush" and "bashful" Mama!
M'Lynn: How pretentious is this weddin' gonna get, I ask you?

This is the seven year old soccer version: