Happy St. Patrick's Day!

We are a family that gets into the wearing o' the green.
My Grandpa McCaffrey was first generation born out of Ireland.
I kinda like that little bit of heritage.
This year we are keeping it simple.
Colds and allergies and various other chores to do...we won't have potato soup.
But we are all sporting green.
Dad's Bud even made sure Gus was included in the family tradition.

See the leaves from one of our bushes tucked into his collar.
Memories being made!

Shopping with the Boys!

My boys have never been much for shopping with me.  They will a little as long as it is in their best interest.  Meaning more often than not sporting goods, Nike, Under Armour and the occasional garage sale. Occasional meaning one every couple of weeks.  Sometimes they will allow me 5 without complaints.  Just depends on the day.  So when in Wisconsin we had to stop and check out some of the major sites...shopping sites that is. 

On the list Once Upon a Child.  Guaranteed we have one here, but I will admit it doesn't compare to the one Dara took us to visit.  The quality and quantity of these quality clothes far surpassed any that I find here back home.  The prices were mind blowing.  Not only were many of the items like new or new with tags, but most of them were priced between $5 and $8.  All high end Name Brands.  Gymboree. Nike. Under Armour. Rare Editions. Justice. Ralph Lauren. 

Heaven! 

So with Fun Girl next door at the color coordinated and organized like a rainbow Plato's Closet, I directed each of my other 4 to their size of clothes.  Told them to take a look.  I figured I would get a few minutes to myself.  

AH contraire my sweet cherie. 

My 2 youngest boys were in heaven.  Go figure? ! ?  

Every couple of seconds I was interrupted with,"I like this one."  "Check this one out." "This one has my name written all over it."  "I want this one."  

I learned a lot about my boys.  I knew their styles and color choices swayed in certain directions, but I never would have chosen some of the things they did.  

Like these shorts.  Even though I enjoy the fun plaid shorts in the store, never in my wildest imaginations did I dare think one of my boys would wear them.  And yet..... Dad's Bud chose this pair.  Then he discovered they went really well with his Cub Scout uniform.  

The Man discovered "the handsomest, fanciest white church shirt ever" and we actually had to go back the next day to get it cause I put in the reject pile.  He asked like a bazillion times for the shirt.  Talk about throwing this momma for a loop.  And well it is "the handsomest, fanciest white church shirt ever".  Dara found the tie and the look was completed. 

The Handsomest, fanciest white tie shirt ever really does need to be worn to church.

He didn't forget, cause this is what he wore to Awana !

When the white shirt is in the laundry, you can still wear the "choker tie" as he calls it. 

Dara

Dara wrote this amazing post that summed up our visit.  She humbles me with her excitement about a friend who will pack up on a moments notice to visit.  You see, it blows my mind how blessed I am with a husband who will send me off on whatever adventure that awaits me with his blessing.  It blows my mind how my Heavenly Father has blessed me with this amazing friend Dara. She exudes joy.  She bubbles all over everything and everyone she meets.  She is like a washing machine filled with way too much detergent and she bubbles.  Except you don't want to clean up these bubbles.
In this friendship we all have a buddy or two.  Hockey Player matches up with her oldest.  Dad's Bud and The Man match up with her second.  All 5 boys will play together really well.  Little Princess and Brylee are best buddies and have a blast.  The Man is engaged to Brylee on the condition he buys her a purple house but they are a year apart in age and have fun playing together.  Fun Girl is loved as the best babysitter ever and influences Brylee's fashion choices and mostly hangs out with Dara and me these days.  It is a great family friendship.  Husbands aren't mentioned cause our husbands work a lot of evening hours.  Most husbands are home with their families in the evening.  Not us.  Perfect set up when we are looking for something to do in the evening...when we lived closer.
So back to all of those bubbles flowing over.
I have tears running down my face as I type this.  You see, she accepts me and my kids as we are.  Warts and all.  To me, that is just so humbling and brings me to my knees.  My life is nutty.  My life is messy.  I can't imagine anyone wanting to get involved and be around it.
You see I have a kiddo with bi-polar.  Every day is unpredictable.  Every moment is unpredictable.  Life is like walking on egg shells.  Life centers around how this child will adjust and will go with the flow.  Lots of counseling, some medication and things are much better than they were.  We have a hope for this child's future.  A hope I lean on sometimes hourly, cause I have a brother I only hear from in the oddest of situations.  Diagnosed too late.  He is a statistic.  He is my brother. I love him.  I miss the boy I once knew.  I grieve the unfilled potential.  I have amazing childhood memories.  I have other kinds of memories.  Memories that make me an advocate to try and make things different for my child.  I want a hope and future for this child, just as I know God has a hope, a future and plan for each one of his.  Still each day has its challenges.  Some are normal developmental challenges, others are unique to the situation.  But the elephant is always in the room. People try to understand, but it is hard to understand.  I have hesitated to travel alone for a long time.
I did it.
It was good.
We struggled. We persevered.  We were loved through it and it was okay.
Dara even saw what I try to hide from the outside world.  I don't want my child labeled.  I don't want my child rejected because of these struggles.  I don't want to be mis-understood.  If only all could be summed up by my bad parenting, I would gladly take that label and free my child from this challenge. But that is not the case.  Even though Dara saw my child disappear when bi-polar took over, she saw my child return through the windows of a person's soul...his/her eyes.  She got it.  She understood what we go through.  She asked some questions.  She asked about the future.  But most of all, her love didn't change. She still sees the heart.  She sees the child without the label.  She sees the blessing.  She shared her love and bubbles and joy.  She didn't miss a beat.
My heart is full.  I am humbled.  I am blessed to have a friend who accepts me and loves me and my children warts and all.  I humbled by seeing the joy on her children's faces when they saw me.  You see we stopped in at school the first afternoon. Just the two of us moms.  We popped in to see Brett and Jacob.  I felt so loved by their smiles.   I blessed to have a friend who would write such an awesome post about my family!

Counting to 215

195.  Dara 

196.  Friends who pour out love in spite of warts 

197. Bills are paid 

198. Time to reflect 

199.  Thanks in a child's handwriting

200.  Encouragement from a child on the other side of the world.

201. Children playing

202. Doggy barks at the air, cause that is what dogs do

203. Early morning song of birds

204. Poking through the ground..new growth. Promise of flowers.

205. Hyacinths

205. Budding of trees.

206. Skype and skype parties. 

207. Strokes and what they teach us. 

208. Father in laws recovery

209. Vacations 

210. Husbands love and sacrifice in sending me and the children away. 

211.  Tree lined streets in showy white blossoms 

212. Spring humidity and smells of the earth stirring and waking up.
213.  Clean smooth teeth after having them cleaned.
214.  Teenager driving lessons
215.  Getting to use my dad's washer and dryer.

Counting to 194

181. Smelly boys
182. Tears of a tender repentant heart
183. Coloring with Little Princess
184. Cinnamon rolls for fun
185. sharing pain in tears and the freedom that comes
186. Those who care and share the burden
187. Roller Skating
188. Strawberry Limeades
189. A quiet hour to make phone calls.
190. A silly dog.
191. Mickey Mouse pancakes
192. sleeping children
193. Teenager that wants to hang out with mom.
194. Watching The Man tumble in gymnastics

Parent Teacher Conferences in Wisconsin

First stop was Parent Teacher Conferences!  Preschool style. 

Never been to one of those before.  I found it very interesting and even more humorous.  Miss G is absolute sweetness.  I loved listening to her accent.  But her accent is what caused me to bite my tongue ever so hard that I thought I was going to need stitches.  

You see this beautiful girl! 

She is brilliant!
She is in preschool.
She knows her letters lowercase and uppercase.
She knows the sounds of 21 of the 26 letters.  

Know which letters she doesn't know?  

The vowels.... Know why?  

They pronounce them funny in Wisconsin.
This girl has grown up in Kansas.  

It is a phonics nightmare.  

It took so much self-control to not blurt out and start laughing during this
very serious parent-teacher conference.
What is funny is when I told this princess' mother my thoughts...

She told me I should have not bit my tongue.
Miss G would have laughed! ! 

Love it.
Note to self--should I have adult children who move around
while their children are learning to read--remember this story!

Sneaking out at Night!

Yup!  That is what I did.  Last Monday night after Hockey Player's Award Ceremony for hockey. We snuck out of town.  Why did we sneak out of town?

Maybe it was guilt?

Abandoning my Granny.  We are in the early stages of establishing in-home care for her.  What if things went wrong and I wasn't here to take care of her.  Leaving meant school would not get done.  Leaving met canceling activities.  Leaving meant not being at Awana Wed. night.  What if something happened with my father-in-law.  He is in hospice care.  My husband would not be going.  He would have to stay and work.  What if my dad ended up in the hospital again.

Maybe it was fear? 

 Fear that those around me would judge and criticize me for abandoning my "duties".  We canceled going on the hockey trip to St. Louis to instead do family things and I was leaving my husband behind.  Through in all of the guilt items into the fear items.  What if I wasn't here to pick up the pieces where Granny was concerned?  What if I wasn't here for....

Honestly, I don't know? 

But I have had a lot on my shoulders lately. I just couldn't bear to hear any criticism or negative feedback.   I had my husband's blessing.  The kids were excited.  I desperately needed to escape for a while.  My friend's husband was out of town.  Her schedule could be cleared. My schedule could be cleared.  There was a plan in place, that I didn't even have to make.  I just had to drive.
So drive I did. We stopped just outside KC for the night and the next morning we drove and drove.  All the way to Wisconsin.  I have never been to Wisconsin until then.  What a trip it was!
 Fun Girl, says she saw the Sparkle return to my eye.  I would imagine she is correct. 
I laughed like I haven't in a while.  My only "burden" was to have fun and have fun with my kids.  It had been a long time since I had done that.  I mean down right good fun.  I try to find the joy and something good in all that I do.  It is better to laugh than cry.  But there have been more than a few times lately, that I felt the laughter coming forth was more manic than joyful. 
Though I hope my children never sneak out at night without me, this is one clandestine trip I am ever grateful to have made.

Brain Damage

Been back in town less than 24 hours and things are getting interesting.
First Dad's Bud is in the bathroom after bedtime crying.  Dad checks on him and starts yelling for me. 
Completely not the normal way things go around here.  Normally, I catch the boys doing something and especially if it is in the bathroom, I holler for the Dad to come take care of HIS boys.
I hurry up the steps to find Dad's Bud's face a mess. 
Eyes swollen shut.  Hive like bumps all over it.  Crying.  First thing that comes to mind is all the bleach water in the bath tub.  Convinced Dad's Bud has been into the bleach water I strip him down and get him in the shower.  Spraying him in the face, he cries, "It burns! It burns!"  I holler for baking soda and dump it all over his head.  Hoping to neutralize anything that he has got on his skin.  In the event, it is an allergic reaction we give him benadryl.  I am still flushing his eyes out when The Dad leaves to pick up Fun Girl.  He is already half and hour late to pick her up. Doctor on call has been paged. 
I peek into Dad's Bud's eyes.  They are milky and really red.  His vision is blurry.  Since we don't know what he got into, she recommends the ER.  I have him over the tub, pouring water into his eyes.  Flushing them like crazy.  Dad pulls in and Dad's Bud hops into the car and off they go. 
Still relatively calm, I am sick to my stomache like nothing else.  Shooting up prayers that are all choppy and and a couple of words here and there.  Can't think clearly.  Dad calls to say it will be a while.  He doesn't know what I know and I insist he tells them we think he may have got bleach in his eyes.  Boom, they are seeing him. They flush his eyes and take a look.   They reassure him he is not in trouble.  We had been doing that as well.  But there were these great big pauses when he would answer us.  The kind of pauses that make you question a kid's sincerity.  He gets adamant he did not get into the bleach water.  Adamant enough that Dad believes him.  After the exam and questioning the docs believe he was having an allergic reaction to an unknown substance!
Relief. 
This morning, his vision was clear.  Clear enough to do school, much to his disappointment.  Eyes and face were returning to normal.  The Dad, thinks now, he must have got into the Cool Ranch Buffalo Wings Chips.  The ones with tobasco sauce and other spicy stuff.  Why can't they just like the normal plain chips like their momma.

If that wasn't bad enough.  Dad's Bud was finally tucked into bed.  I was finally unwound and getting sleepy and The Man wakes up.  Not only does he wake up, but he is crying.  But not the tear sobbing, wimpering crying.  Oh no. 
He is sobbing, and sobbing and hollering (and I quote), "I have brain damage!"  "Brain damage!" 
"BBBBBBrain Dammmmage!"
Brain damage? I promise, I never dropped THIS kid on his head.
Really.  As a preschooler I might have thought of it...but I have NEVER dropped The Man on his head.  So where does he get the idea to wake me up at night crying about Brain Damage to his Dad and me. 
The nerve.  Doesn't he know we just finished an ER shift and we are tired.
Brain Damage!
A headache.  He has a headache.  Sinus stuff.  Stuffed up, goopy nose.  But in his vocabulary, only Brain Damage works.

This Mom had to be up and out of the house early. Like 7:30 early.  Time change + traveling (which I have yet to get to)+2 exciting night time escapades with boys = One Brain Damaged tired mommy at 11:00am
Know what I did?
I took a nap. 
Not only did I take a nap with Dad's blessing.
I took a 4 hour nap.  Oh yeah.
Kids are in bed now.  Sleeping ever so good.  Guess what?  I am heading that way as well.