Weekend, Update

With a yard like this, you'd think my kids played football:

(Look closely, you'll see yard-lines. Ken + fertilizer = stripes.)

Well, we're not doing football yet, but we do have a T-Ball player (and Assistant Coach) in the family. Shannon is playing for another year only because his buddy Sean is playing and Sean's Dad, Jesse, is the coach. Jesse, in turn, named Ken his assistant. Here they are at the opening ceremony:

And here is Shannon ready for his first game of the season (minus one shoe):

It should be an interesting year. There was a lot of craziness getting the league going this year, but now all we have left are two months of T-Ball games. Most are on Friday nights so we will still have our weekends free, and since Ken's presence is mandatory, I'm not forced to be at every game whether I want to be there or not.

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Onto another subject, Riley has been bothered by allergies this Spring and has been experiencing a lot of drainage. I let him sleep in the recliner one night, which enabled him to get a decent nights sleep. However, when I demanded he sleep in his own bed the next night, he improvised:

Riley made his own recliner by dumping out a large tub of clothes that he'd found in his closet, and filling the tub with a large stack of clean blankets which were also found in his closet. Now I have two large piles of once organized, folded, and clean laundry that is now disorganized, wrinkly and most likely not-so-clean. But Riley is sleeping well at night.

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And finally, I spent all morning at a dentist's office getting a second opinion about having veneers placed on my teeth. The good news is that they ARE an option. The bad news is that I would have to go through hell before my teeth could accept them. Seems I have an overbite that would result in failure within ten years if I went ahead and got them now.

The solution is simple. First of all, I would need to get braces (luckily it appears that I would only have to wear them for 12 - 18 months.) In order to prepare my teeth for braces, I would need to have five root canals and three fillings done. Once this has been accomplished, I can wear braces for under two years at an approximate cost of $5400. Once my bite has been corrected and my teeth aligned, I would have to have three crowns put on my molars, and then if I would still like to correct the yellow tooth (which will now be straight,) I have a little more work left. Should my yellow tooth survive all of the shifting from the braces, I would then have to have a root canal performed on it, (although if the tooth fails at either of these two stages, I can always get an implant, no problem.) Once the root canal is performed, they can shave it down and apply a veneer. Simple as that!

Did I mention that I don't mind the spaces in my teeth, I simply want to repair the one yellow tooth? Anyhow, we're talking about it, but in the meantime, I'm going to hit a couple of grocery stores and get some quotes on teeth-whitening products.

Mass Happenings

Today after church Riley had a meeting with the Priest for his upcoming First Communion (six more days!) so we had to go to St. Ann's. This is the parish where the boys attend CCD, but it is a large, somewhat impersonal parish and not my first choice for Sunday Mass. (It's amazing, when you don't live in the Lincoln diocese, you're allowed to attend any Catholic Church!)

So there we were at St. Ann's, the boys being angels for a change (Riley had his CCD workbook with him and he and Shannon studied it for quite a bit,) when all of the sudden Corey's ears perked up. "Mommy, why did they say my name?" What? "They just said, 'Corey to you, Lord!'" This continued throughout the mass, every time he heard the word glory he commented on it, (and it is often, try listening for it the next time you Catholics get the chance.)

It was soon time for us to take up the offertory (whenever we sit toward the back of the church we are asked to do this,) and we all got up to perform our task. As the usher was handing us the supplies, he came up one short. Shannon had returned to the pew to complete a Jesus word search and had no intention of helping us walk the offering up the aisle. I gave Ken the nod that said, "Just forget it," and Corey was handed the large basket of monetary offerings and we gingerly made our way down the aisle without Shannon and with Corey setting the pace. We added a good two extra minutes to the Mass, this following the big Annual Appeal that the Priest had made after the homily, and I don't think we won any friends at St. Ann's.

Once we rejoined Shannon, who was no longer blissfully unaware of our absence, he burst into tears and the meltdowns began. The remainder of the Mass was spent reminding the boys to stand, kneel or sit, and giving Corey multiple rundowns of how many minutes and songs were left before we could leave. And, of course, explaining to Corey that once again they were saying glory, not Corey.

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By the way, the meeting with the Priest, which ensured Riley was properly prepared to receive his First Communion next week, went really well after a rough start. Once Riley got over his nervousness, he was able to answer most of the Priest's questions. I was a little worried, initially, when Father asked who created the heavens and earth and Riley simply could not come up with the answer. I admit it, I was blushing at this one. However, soon it all kicked in and Riley even gave 'one perfect answer' of which he was very proud (I know it's the body and blood of Christ because He told us so.) Riley knew of original sin, the trinity, the body and blood of Christ, the first sin, and all of the hard stuff, but for the life of him, he just couldn't remember who started it all. That's my boy.

Sprouts

Would you believe the seeds I planted on the 21st are already starting to sprout? I know this because I just moved all the trays into the garage in light of the fact that it's supposed to fall into the 30's for the next few days.

My Driveway is Clean!

Good thing I got my camera working again.

Yep, my driveway is clean and so is a portion of my lawn! I love when they decide to flush out the water system, especially since the fire hydrant is located on my property and they perform this task at about 1:00 in the morning. For those of you who don't know me, think sarcasm.

At least this time we weren't in the process of seeding our lawn. Luckily I hadn't recently cleaned the tubs and toilets either, since the system flush can result in standing silt in my facilities. And now I won't have to water my flower bed by the mailbox anytime soon. Oh yeah, the crack at the base of our driveway wasn't big enough already, so this should help with that, too.

I don't know a lot about fire hydrants, but I have to ask why they don't flush through the connector that points toward the street. Or at least the one aimed at my neighbors yard every now and then. The city worker must not like us or something. Perhaps they like us a lot - maybe they've seen my lawn in August, when it's usually brown and dry, and just figured they'd do a little preventative watering?

Maybe they knew I would be silly enough to take pictures and post it to my blog - everybody wants their 15 minutes of fame, you know, even the City of Comstock.

Uno, Dos, Tres, Quatro...

So Corey is fascinated with languages. Chinese, Spanish, English and German, it doesn't matter. He therefore loves signs that have words in multiple languages. For example, his 'Wet Floor' sign says, "Cuidado, Achtung, Caution and Warning." This is a prized piece of property, I'm telling you! He finds signs in foreign languages with his Google Searches, and is so happy when he learns a new word. "Salida, that means exit in Spanish!" he reminds me. Hourly.

Well, today Corey was playing 2000 questions and I finally gave up. He wanted to know how to say Ginger Ale in Spanish. I instructed him to remember all the Spanish words he wanted to learn, and the next time we see our bilingual neighbor Mr. Jesse, we'll ask him to translate. (Poor Jesse, he has no idea what's coming...) Jesse is a 'have a seat on the porch and drink a beer with us' buddy, but unless I was drinking a bit too much during a get-together, I don't recall any in-depth Spanish lessons as of yet.

Anyhow, I didn't want to leave Corey hanging so I decided I would teach him to count in Spanish. (Hey, after 1 1/2 years of High School Spanish and 2 College semesters repeating what I should have learned in High School, I did come away with something.) I asked if he wanted to learn it and he excitedly said okay.

I said, "Uno, dos, tres," holding up a finger for each word. (Corey's a visual learner so I felt I was really helping him here.) "Now, Corey," I said, "do it with me. Uno, dos, tres." Corey was right with me on every word, holding up his fingers at the correct times and everything. I was thrilled that Corey was following me so well, and I paused to congratulate him. Unfortunately Corey didn't have time for that because he then, on his own, held up his fourth finger, then his fifth and continued, "quatro, cinco, seis, siete, ocho, nueve, diez!"

I was a little baffled but I've learned not to be too surprised by anything Corey knows. I'm certain I didn't teach him how to count in Spanish, but perhaps he picked it up from Sesame Street or maybe his teacher taught him. That's the tough thing about Corey, you never know where he gets it from, and if he tells you, it's usually just an answer he thinks you want to hear. "Who taught you how to count in Spanish, Corey?" I asked. He looked down like he was in trouble, so I reassured him that I was proud he could do it, but that I was just curious how he learned to count in Spanish. He sheepishly looked up at me and asked, "Mr. Jesse?"

If anybody out there can figure Corey out, please let me know. In the meantime, can anybody translate Chinese?

Snack Food

The other night I was munching on some Pringles after putting the boys to bed, and as I was straightening up before going up to bed myself, I noticed I had left the lid on the counter. I went to grab the tin of Pringles to put them away and they were nowhere to be found.

This morning when questioned, the boys convinced me that Corey had snuck downstairs, grabbed the Pringles, and quietly rejoined his brothers to share them. (Hmmm....) I sent him upstairs to bring them back but Corey couldn't locate them. Early this evening, Shannon appears with a can of Pringles, desperately trying to convince me that Corey must have hid them under Riley's pillow, because that's where Shannon had found them. There were about ten Pringles left in a once-almost-full tin. So I sent Shannon back upstairs and ate the ten remaining Pringles.

Tonight the boys finally went to sleep and I decide to straighten up the house before turning in once again. The light was on in the main bathroom and I went in to shut it off when something caught my eye. There, hidden behind the toilet but still in range (I have three boys, if you know what I mean,) is an opened box of Oreo flavored Pop-Tarts. Just sitting there exposed to who knows what for who knows how long. A box of 8 is now a box of 3. Opened. By the toilet. I'm (unfortunately) assuming they were consumed in there, as well. In my well-used, rarely-sanitized, main-floor bathroom.

Bluch!!!

Dentists, Diets and Dirt

I went to the dentist today for a cleaning and came away with great news! (That never happens, I have sensitive teeth and I have grown to hate my dental appointments.) First, I had two pieces of filling material jammed in between my teeth and with much effort they were dislodged and removed. I can floss again! Secondly, veneers are an affordable option for my front teeth now, and Ken said "Let's do it!"

For those of you who may not know, I have a lovely yellow front tooth that is dead due to a diving accident I had when I was younger. (You know those '3 Feet - No Diving' signs you see at the swim pools? Well, I wish the teenager at Arnold Heights Swim Pool in 1981 had seen them, maybe then she wouldn't have decided to dive directly on my head!) Another result of this accident (or possibly just a genetic defect?) was a spacious gap between my two front teeth. My brother Casey says it's reminiscent of Madonna, therefore oddly attractive. (Gotta love Casey.) My take on it, however, is that if I can fix it without losing the tooth, I'm gonna do it!

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We're doing yet another nutrition study on Corey, it seems that a five year old should weigh more than 30 pounds. Hmmm.... yeah, I suppose so. The doctor also wants to run some tests to see if he has any allergies, deficiencies or disorders that might be attributed to his small stature. It seems like we'll never figure it out completely, but I'd put my money on Corey's birth weight (he was 1 pound 9 ounces) being a direct cause of it. Or perhaps the fact that he has Cerebal Palsy, which causes him to burn calories at an accelerated rate, could play into his slow growth. Or maybe Corey's size was meant to be, his paternal Grandmother is amazingly little and short. (Sorry, Joanne!)

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One more tangent. Riley and I planted some seeds yesterday, and we're hoping they take off. We had seed packets of mums and bachelor buttons, and I had cuttings from last year's black-eyed susans, mums, and some unknown flower the neighbor planted. Riley was wanting to plant carrots, so today I scooped up a packet of carrots and onions as well. We'll be starting three flats in all (recycled from my seedling purchases last spring,) with 48 plants per flat. Not sure what will happen if they all take off, however, because I honestly have no place to put them! I suppose I'll share the wealth with all of my neighbors if it comes to that.

Spring Game Pictures

The last pictures my camera took before it broke completely:

Shannon wanted a RED balloon. Mom trying to make him happy.

Intense Uncle Casey. Tired Grandpa.

Denny after 'Drug Free' pledge. Shannon being tough, me trying not to scream.

Kel's and Grandpa waiting for our ride. Coach on the big screen.

Home... again.

I step out of the car onto legs of Jello and listen in as Shannon and Riley reunite:

Shannon: "I got to go to a Husker game with Uncle Casey!"
Riley: "Oh, yeah? I got to go to Chuck-E-Cheese's!"
Shannon: "I got to play with Spencer!"
Riley: "So, I got to have dinner with Anna!"

Both: "Wahh, I didn't get to go where he was! NO FAIR!"

Cue whining for at least 30 minutes about the atrocities I'd committed over the weekend. Seems all I did this weekend was make everybody angry?

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I drove 1360 miles in less than 48 hours. I brought a child with me, which was never my intention. (How many times can you play I-Spy on a weekend trip, anyway?) I purchased nine tickets to a game that few were happy with. I walked ten blocks to and from the said game, and up to our seats in the 62nd row twice. (Uh, that was one boring game, by the way, but Uncle Casey was quite a trooper!) I danced with my brother-in-law to three songs, and with my sister to one and a half songs. We listened to really bad music for four hours. I got twelve hours of sleep the entire weekend. Oh, and did I mention that I was in a car for 20 hours, too?

My nerves are shot and my legs are useless. I think I'll go to bed.

Husker Red

Well, I just had my first ever manicure and pedicure and of course had my nails done up in Husker red. (Why have I never had a pedicure before??? That was better than a massage!) Oh, the things Nebraskans do for football... and it's only a scrimmage.

I'll be heading out tomorrow at noon so there will be another lull in my blogging. Kellie is looking at heading to the stadium at 9:00 in the morning, the game should be over around 4:00, and then I've got to hand Shannon over to Grandma and it's girls night out! Don't really see any down time in there and then I'm heading home first thing Sunday morning. I hope I can get some sleep in there somewhere.

Did I mention I'm bringing Shannon with me? Uncle Casey better be ready to entertain him during the game because I plan to actually watch the scrimmage (hmm... why was I going to go without kids in the first place?) Uncle Casey will step it up for football; he'll give Shannon a big tour of the campus and get him Husker treats and teach him all kinds of Huskerisms. It should be cool. Or I'll have to smack him. (Casey, that is.)

Who Do I Take to Nebraska?

Back into the old routines: up too early, breaking up fights, picking up toys, allergies kicking my butt. Ah, home!

I'm heading to Nebraska tomorrow for the Spring Game, a quick weekend trip by myself, ten hours driving down, ten hours back. Unfortunately, Grandma threw a wrench into my plans. Bring one of the boys, they can have my ticket to the game and I can play with them while you're out...

Not a bad idea, except I have 20 hours of driving to do and that would involve 20 hours of entertaining a child as I drive. It beats traveling with all three boys, but I'm not too sure it beats traveling by myself. On top of that, which boy do I bring with me?

Riley would be a cake-walk during the drive; he travels well, entertains himself, and at times carries-on very adult and entertaining conversations. Shannon, on the other hand, will talk endlessly on the ride, continuously asking if we're there yet, and will pretty much drive me crazy. However, he is my number one Husker Fan, and he would LOVE the game. Riley at the game? Not too interested. (Uncle Casey is pulling for Shannon, who we all dream will someday be wearing a jersey in Memorial Stadium.) Corey is a definite heck-no no matter what.

Help! I can always try to get Shannon to a real game this fall- Western Michigan (Ken's Alma Mater,) is playing NU in Lincoln this year, and that would be a riot. Tickets probably wouldn't materialize, though. I need some opinions and I need them today, I expect comments!!! (Do it now, or you'll forget!) Thanks.

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On a lighter note, last night Riley asked me if the shadows the vans were casting looked familiar. I couldn't help but noticed that they looked just like the figures from Easter Island. Riley quickly corrected me. They looked like Daddy's head...

Oh, yeah, about Jamaica...

I guess I never really told you all anything about our trip...

It was 80 degrees by 10:00 every morning. The sun was only really hot between 1:00 and 4:00 in the afternoon, but all you had to do was get under a palm tree and enjoy the cool, gentle ocean breeze for relief. There were no real waves, the ocean was like glass. The air smelled normal, no salt or dead fish smells. It may have occasionally been cloudy in the distance, but it was always sunny in the coastal lowlands where we were. The water was a beautiful blue, but Caribbean green in the sandy areas, and always cool when you had overheated in the sun.

We slept in until at least 10:00 every day but one. We'd wake up, cover our bed-head hair (maybe that was just me,) and go grab some breakfast in our swim suits. Then we'd grab our supplies and hit the beach or maybe one of the three swim pools. Then we'd have lunch whenever we felt like it, in between our drinks which kept coming all day. (I actually drank a LOT of straight cranberry juice on ice, it complimented the sun perfectly.) After lunch we usually found an activity to do. We kayaked, snorkeled, shopped, took in a scheduled event, toured the resort, whatever sounded good. Then we'd grab a little more sun (or not) and head back to the room for a little siesta. Whenever we woke up we'd shower and head to the buffet or off to one of our dinner reservations. Then we'd take in some of the scheduled entertainment or relax in our rooms, and hit the disco every night at 11:00 pm. We were usually in bed by 2:00 am.

We had planned on getting massages, going out on a Hobie Cat, riding a couple of Jet Ski's and taking in at least one local tour, but just didn't get to any of it. That kinda stunk, but I don't think we really missed too much.

The best parts of our trip were pretty basic. Warm sun, beautiful water, relaxing and a complete lack of any responsibilities. Time together. Pretty women in bikinis. Yeah, they were everywhere. A company was using our resort as a location for their photo shoot, and they had 11 girls all over the place making me look like chopped liver. But that's okay, let them go through three pregnancies in three years and tell me how good they look when they're done. I held my own for the most part!

The not-so-best parts? Umm... not really. Putting on sunscreen, that took a little time. Maybe we used too much? Choosing which bikini to put on? Yeah, Ken chose so that wasn't even difficult. We wish we'd been more sociable initially, but we did meet some great people right before we left for home. Yeah, we could have taken more pictures (especially when my hair wasn't in the 'I've-got-over-processed-short-straw-like-hair-that-is-naturally-curly-and-doesn't-look-at-all-good-when-wet-or-when-sun-dried' state that it was usually in.) Even when freshly styled, my hair did NOT want to straighten in Jamaica. It wasn't even that humid, so go figure. Other than that, it was perfect!

Ken was serenaded by Lady Patricia, a Jamaican entertainer with a KILLER voice, and he didn't know what to think about that. We also participated in a skit that was totally hilarious, and Ken made a bit of a dork of himself, but it earned us two free bottles of rum so it was worth it. I won a bottle of rum in a music trivia contest (surprise,) but I wasn't really even on my game for that. The people watching was superb and the sun was perfect. Anybody want to babysit three boys for a week so we can do this again?

Jamaica Pictures...

Not too many good pictures in either batch (could it be the subject matter?) but here is a little idea of how our time was spent in Jamaica:

On a boat, out to go snorkeling.

Me and my honey underwater.

My honey above water.

Lady Patricia with Ken after serenading him with "You're Gonna Love Him."

Me in my June Cleaver outfit, waiting for our dinner reservations.

Home

We are home. Damn.

This was an awesome trip, and I am getting our underwater disposable camera developed at this moment, but for now, here are a couple of pictures of what you all missed while I was on vacation....

Our last sunset before coming home.

Yikes! Ken's head is glowing!

Corey's gonna hate the fact that he missed that wet floor sign. This was taken from our room.

I'm On My Way to Jamaica, Mon!

Okay, unless there's miserable weather (should be 89 degrees and mostly sunny according to the forecast,) and unless there's free internet, (all inquiries are showing $5 a minute,) you won't hear back from me until Tuesday. We'll be driving to Detroit at 2:30 in the morning to catch our flight, and I should be nice and warm by noon. Sorry you'll have to miss it! I know most of you will be wringing your hands in boredom with no blogging on my end (aside from Grammie and Papa who will have their hands full with the boys,) but I'm hoping you'll survive. I might even be thinking about some of you on occasion, but for the life of me I can't think of what that occasion might be...

Speaking of the boys, I was making paper airplanes with the boys this morning and Riley made a paper-chain of people and put them in his airplane. Then he made a single paper person and put him in the airplane and said this was the pilot. He played around with it a little bit and then told me that everybody fell out of the airplane except for the pilot. Sounded ominous... I ran the bath and told the boys to jump in and the next thing I know Riley comes running all upset over something.

"Mommy, the airplane... it crashed into the water!" Sure enough, there it was in the tub. Do I have a reason to be paranoid about my upcoming flight?

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Quick note about my music selection... some of you are aware of the fact that I hate Jamaican music but I did my best to find some that I like. The first song is tame, but if you're easily offended, turn the music player off completely before the second song. It's a hilarious parody on 'The Devil Went Down to Georgia,' and it has marijuana references because that's what Jamaica is known for. And, no, I won't be partaking in that activity, thank you!

Have a great week, ya'll, and look for pictures when I return. Later, mon!

Industrious

What can I say? The boys have been extremely industrious today. I ran to a friends house for 1/2 an hour, 30 minutes, and this cave-like fort is what I returned home to. Yes, that is a chair on the couch.

Ken had a good nap, I guess.

Pikachu

What happens when Mommy leaves a 1/2 pound bag of M&M's out when she goes to bed?



I wake up to a Pikachu on the coffee table (by Riley the artist) and the remainder of the M&M's devoured by three little boys.

Trapped!

I'm pulling in the driveway, it's ten minutes past the boys' bedtime, and I come across this contraption. It consists of 50 feet of outdoor extension cord, a big plastic tote, swing-set attachments and torn up bread. I knew it was a trap of some sort, and I figured they weren't trying to 'catch' me. (No chocolate.)

Shannon came running up to the van flailing his arms and screaming, "Get back, Mommy, don't mess it up! We're gonna get them birds!" So I gingerly made my way around everything and popped into the house for my camera. I grabbed the camera and yelled for the boys to come over so I could get a picture and Shannon threw a fit! I was too close, they couldn't get near it for a picture and if I didn't stop I was gonna ruin everything. Ignoring Shannon's tears, Riley managed to give me a quick demo, I got my picture and then I got away from there. This, unfortunately, is as close as he would let me get...

Needless to say, I don't see the boys being very successful, especially this late at night. Maybe tomorrow. And only if the birds really like doggie poo, because this is the part of the yard that it always turns up in.

Procrastination

Well, three days and counting and I have so much work to do before we can blow this five-cent-Popsicle-stand and land in Jamaica. I need to clean, pack, organize, clean, get the backpacks set up, clean, draw up instructions, clean, shop for groceries, clean, make some phone calls, do laundry, clean, make lists and clean. So far I've... not done any of this. Oops.

It's not my fault, really. Right, Mom? Procrastination is a genetic defect that was passed down to me (along with my funny nose, less-than-perfect skin, and early gray hairs,) which should have been drowned out by a recessive gene somewhere along the way. But, no, it's all mine now, and I admit it. I will, however, be working like a tornado come Wednesday afternoon, and my kids will be relieved when I finally leave after the craziness that will have ensued.

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Just a little side-note, and some of you have heard this rant so be patient with me, but who ever heard of a band that wont play "Mustang Sally?" This song is MY song, ever since I lived in Chicago(land) where my co-workers referred to me as "Long Tall Sally" but sang parts of this tune whenever I approached. Well, when I went out with the girls on Saturday night, the (lame) band refused to play the song for me, and after much questioning finally admitted that they hated the song and refused to sing it under any circumstance. Up to that point, I had kinda liked the band. After that, not so much.

Hopscotch

Envision Corey, if you will, who can barely clear two inches when jumping with all his power. He sees the hopscotch I'd drawn out earlier, which Shannon extended all the way up to block number nineteen. Knowing this is Corey, you could assume that he would either:

A) Ignore it completely.
B) Walk alongside and read off the numbers.
C) Ask you if you remember the time you saw the
'Speed Limit 5' cake.

But for some reason today Corey absolutely shocked me. He got down in a squat and with all of his might hopped the hopscotch all the way to number 19. Granted, he didn't split his legs when he got to the squares that were next to each other, but he made sure to hit each one. It was so cute, so 'big boy' of him, and also a very cheap alternative to our one hundred dollar a week (after insurance adjustment) physical therapy.

The Eyes Have It

Corey had an appointment with his Eye Specialist in Grand Rapids this morning so the three boys and I were up early and on our way. I left Corey to sit in the big chair alongside the eye doctor and sat myself fifteen feet away at the other end of the room. Finally, an eye exam where Corey actually cooperated! It was amazing to see him read off the pictures that were on the monitor across the room without pausing between each one to ask mommy some off-topic question like, "Remember when I fell in the lake? That was scary." Corey decided to ask the eye doctor those questions instead.

I stifled Riley and Shannon today so that they couldn't cheat and give Corey clues as to what was on the monitor. (A couple of times Riley tried to flap his 'wings' and say 'bwak-bwak' to clue Corey in to the fact that he was seeing a chicken, but I pulled out the super-mean-mommy-glare and all was good.) Riley watched wide-eyed and it was all he could do to keep from bursting. "This one?" asked the doctor. "A cake!" yelled Corey. "Good, this one?" "A tree!" "Good! This one?" "A hand!" Finally Riley couldn't take it any longer, grabbed my arm in frustration and said very seriously, "But, Mom, he's getting almost ALL of them wrong!"

He had a good point, Corey was getting most of them wrong. It was decided to do the eye-drops so that Dr. Peters could do a more thorough examination, so I explained to Corey what was going to happen. Before any appointment I'm always totally honest with him about shots, medicine, pain and having to 'lay down' (the worst thing that can happen to Corey in a medical setting.) I'd had him prepared for this visit with the typical reassurances, "No, you won't have to wear a patch at the doctors, yes, he will cover your eye, yes, you might have to see the light." I wasn't expecting the eye-drops, which Corey particularly hates. I also forgot that they try to get him to lay down so they can put them in. Oops. Mommy became a liar and after a lengthy attempt at cajoling him, I was forced to physically restrain Corey in a reclined position for the drops to be administered. "Mommy, you're rude!" Corey huffed after it was all over and the tears eased up. "I know." I hate being the bad guy, but I'm getting really good at it.

Anyhow, after letting me know that Corey was wearing his back-up pair of glasses and not the ones with the stronger prescription, (WHAT? How did that happen, and WHEN did they get switched? No wonder he hasn't been able to see anything!) the kind doctor sent us packing. Corey hadn't lost more vision, but new lenses were prescribed to adjust the balance of vision between his eyes. I was also reminded that the scar-tissue from his retinopathy was the main cause of Corey's 'book-next-to-his-nose' way of looking at things. So no worries, and this next pair of glasses will be florescent green or something so that I never confuse them again.

On the 1 1/4 hour drive home Corey decided to skip the nap that usually happens after he sees the eye doctor. "Mom! I'm going SIGN HUNTING!" "Good, Corey, now let me drive." "Stop sign!" "Traffic light sign!" "Reduction in lanes sign!" "Mom, what's that sign?" No answer. "Merge left sign!" "Trucks entering sign!" "M 89 East sign!" All the way home.

Spring Break

Well, it's that time of year where the grass starts turning green, the trees are starting to bud, and sinus infections are a constant. I don't know if it's necessarily the weather or the incense-infused sacramental get-together I attended at church last night, or maybe it was walking Grandma through her blog questions for the last hour, but I currently have one screaming headache.

I'd better shake it off, because at 12:15 this afternoon, our house will be dealing with Spring Break. Spring Break, that magical time that the kids love so much, a prelude to the long endless 'mommy-I'm-so-bored' summer to come, but without the sunshine and warm weather. For the next six days I'll have a house full of whiny boys, frustrated with the lack of entertainment and forever making small messes that become one huge garbage pile that is my house by 5:00 in the afternoon. Oh, it's already dinner time? Sorry, I was too busy trying to make everybody happy while mentally drowning them out at the same time. Frozen pizza, anyone?

Luckily, my bald husband and I are taking off for our Jamaican vacation bright and early Thursday morning, and by 2:00 that afternoon I had better be sitting on a beach in 80 degree temperatures, well on my way to being intoxicated by a few hand-delivered tropical drinks. My mother always used to say, "Don't call me at work unless someone is dead or bleeding," and the in-laws will be given the same warning as we hand them over charge of the boys.

For five days, FIVE days, I will only have to answer to myself and maybe my husband. It could be paradise, I just have to convince Ken that vacations are for relaxing as well as having fun. He was aghast when I mentioned that I couldn't wait to nap on the beach and sleep in every day. Yes, honey, there's snorkeling, sea kayaking, a party in the lounge, but I needed a break, you know. I already have to keep a schedule at home, I don't want one in Jamaica!

The wonderful thing is that Ken and I have a crazy ability to entertain ourselves and not solely rely on each other for everything. No, we're not one of those couples that couldn't imagine a day away from each other, and we're not one of those couples that can't stand being in each others presence, either. If he wants to scuba dive and I'm rested, I'll be there. If I'm cranky and no fun, he'll go and have the time of his life and tell me all about what I missed out on in my laziness. He'll tell me all about the cutie in the polka-dotted bikini, and I'll ask if he invited her to join up with us later. If it was a really good time, he'll insist that I go with him the next day, and I will. Then I'll tell him about the hot guy in the board shorts I met while I was being lazy on the beach, and he'll ask if the guy had any good looking girls with him... but you knew that, right?

My headache already feels like it's receding just thinking about this trip. All I have to do is survive the next six days.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

Just a little.

None left.

He MADE me do it!

(I think it's kinda hot, myself!)

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