It's a Griswold Family Christmas

I am someone who, unfortunately, succumbs to the stress of the holiday season. I try not to. I try to say "no" to things. I've given up on sending cards. I try to only do the things I really want to. But I still fall into the stress of the season. I worry about the shopping until it's all done, I freak out about time getting away from us. No matter what I say, part of me still wants that picture perfect holiday.

But you know what they say about the best laid plans.

We decided to spend yesterday getting the house and lights out.  Things started pretty well. We downsized a lot of our decorations last year, so there was a lot less "stuff" to go through. Unfortunately, that was just about the only plus.

Duane went into the garage to get the tree down from the garage rafters.  It's a new tree we got last year and it's quite a bit heavier than the last one. That tree got a little momentum going and slid right into one of the garage windows, shattering it.

Bless my husband, he didn't let it phase him. He swept up the glass, measured for a new one, and then set up the tree for me to start decorating. While I worked on decorating the "formal" tree, Duane went downstairs to set up the "family" tree. That tree was a hand-me-down several years ago and each time we set it up, we would say a little prayer that it would give us one more year. Our prayers were not answered this year. Duane decided he'd get a new tree when he went to get the replacement glass, and some other odds and ends we'd need to hang the outside lights and the garland.

The first store didn't do glass cutting like we thought, but Duane found a really nice tree - which was out of stock. Or at least he thinks it was out of stock, the employee who went to check on it never came back to let him know.  So Duane went to a second store, where he got glass and a third store to get the tree.

I would have been at my wit's end by this point, but Duane came home in a good mood, happy with the tree he found for us. He immediately went about setting it up so the boys and I could decorate it. Well, he tried to set it up. He got the first part done and quickly realized the second part was so damaged that he couldn't put it together. Duane is a "make it work" kind of guy (which I love about him) but he also knows when to throw in the towel (which I love even more).  After it became apparent that the tree wasn't going to go together he packed it up - without cussing, which I would have been doing - and got ready to return it to the store and get a replacement.

Except, when we checked online, the store didn't have anymore of this particular tree in stock. We found a different location that was supposed to have one, but when we called (and finally got through to an actual person) they didn't have it either.  The closest store to have one was WAY on the other side of town.

Now it's after 7:00 by this point. We had started our decorating at 1:45. Duane loaded the tree in the car and went to the store he originally got it from to return it and, in all likelihood, give up on the tree quest for the night.  When he returned the tree and told them it was damaged, the customer service person said, "Oh this is funny. Well, probably not to you, but this tree is actually marked damaged already right on the box."  WHAT??

Duane came home and we were ready to call it night. Mostly ready, like I said, I tend to succumb to holiday stress and part of me worried that if we didn't get a tree last night, it wasn't going to happen because our schedule is so full. Plus Ryan was nearly in tears, asking, "Aren't we going to have a family tree this year?"

So, in true Clark Griswold fashion, we loaded the whole family in the SUV at 8:00 at night and headed to my lease favorite store in the world - Walmart.  There we finally found a tree.

"Um...isn't this going to be too tall for our family room?" I asked Duane as we were driving home.

He assured me it would be fine, and since I trust my husband implicitly, I let it go.

 
 But guess what?

When we set up the tree, the top of it touched the ceiling with no room for a star. Yep, we're the Griswolds. Duane did some finagling and somehow managed to make it work. Now we just have to find time to decorate it before the cats chew through the wires on the lights.

Happy Thanksgiving Photo Recap

Happy Thanksgiving! I hope your day was filled with food, friends and family!  We started the day with Duane's family.

Kierstin chowing on the turkey wing

 

Duane at work

Wesley, Bella and Ryan

Playing games with cousin Mark

Wesley and Grandma

Doggy kisses

Duane and Doug getting the lights on the tree

And we ended the day with a second dinner at Grandma and Grandpa H.'s

Grandpa at work carving the turkey

Me with my "other mom", Sally

Handsome group of boys

Wesley, Aunt Sue, and Ryan

Josh and Sue

Got to see Carol today!

Save room for dessert!

Once Upon a Time

There are certain stories that, when a person starts telling them, you know they are not going to end well.

Today, Wesley came home from walking Lucy. That is not unusual in and of itself, but he had left for the walk with Ryan and returned without him. And then he started talking.

"Ok, Ryan isn't with me because he was walking along, swinging the bag of dog poop..."

Oh, boy, this isn't going to end well, I thought. 

"...and the bag slipped out of his hand, flew up, and got stuck in a tree..."

WHAT?!

"...so he got a stick and started poking at the bag, trying to get it down..."

Oh, please don't tell me my youngest child is out on the sidewalk covered in dog poop.

 "...and he got the bag down, but then he fell on the sidewalk..."

Not in the dog poop. We have another Thanksgiving dinner to go to. Please not in the dog poop.

"...and he hurt his knee and started crying."

I finally interrupted. "Wesley! Does your brother need help?"

"Um, yeah. I think so."

The good news is that Ryan was not hurt and the bag of poop stayed safely closed. The bad news is that it took Wesley forever to actually get the message delivered to us. Urgency is not his middle name.

Kitty Kitty Wheeze Wheeze

Cleo has been doing a nasty wheezy cough for a number of weeks now. Being a librarian, I naturally did some research and I, in my oh-so-expert opinion, diagnosed her with kitty asthma. Unfortunately, my MLS does not in any way authorize me to diagnose animals, or prescribe treatments for them, so I had to take Cleo to the vet. She loves the vet.

I may have exaggerated her love of the vet just a bit.

I took a video of Cleo doing her whole wheezing thing since you know there is no animals that will actually cooperate and show their symptoms at the vet. It's kind of like when you take your car to the mechanic and it stops making the noise. Anyhow, between the video and the chest x-rays, the doctor confirmed my diagnosis of kitty asthma.

The next step was to discuss treatment, which would begin with a big dose of steroids to help soothe the inflammation.

"Is that an injection?" I asked.

"Well, it can be, but the injection seems to increase the chances of diabetes if it has to be given long term."

"No injection," I said.

There was an inhaler option (yes, they make kitty inhalers), but I would have to get her to take ten "good" breaths with the mask on several times a day. Yeah, not happening. 

The doctor gave us pills with the instructions to give her two pills, three times a day, for three days, then one pill, twice a day, for two weeks.

Um, have you ever tried to give a pill to a cat? Let alone SIX pills in a day??

The vet gave us some pill pockets to try. "Just put the pills inside these. They are fish flavored and she should eat them right up."

Yeah, nice theory there doc. She licked the pill pocket then walked away.

Next we tried hiding the pills in a plate of tuna. She licked the oil off the tuna and then walked away.

Later that evening we tried crushing the pills and mixing them with some canned cat food. She licked the food twice, then walked away.

End of day one of meds - total pills consumed, maybe one out of six.

This morning Duane and I decided to mix the crushed pills into a little milk for her. She sniffed it and walked away.

We finally decided to do things the hard way and try to force the pills down her little kitty throat. Duane held her and I went for the pill popping. We got the first pill down her and thought the second pill had been successfully delivered, when she spit it out. She spit the darn thing out THREE TIMES, at which point I uttered a cuss word or twelve - and then realized Ryan was in the room.

"Ryan, forget all those bad words Mommy said. You are not to say them!" I warned.

"Unless you are pilling a cat and she spits it out three times," Duane amended. There goes our parents of the year award.

Tonight we crushed the pills up, mixed them with milk and put them in a syringe that you use to administer medicine orally. It was still a fight and it's still a miracle no one got bit, but we got those pill down her!

It's going to be a LONG 17 days.

Poor Neglected Child

If you happen to be in Central Ohio, you know that our November weather has been pretty mild until the last few days. I dug the winter coats out about a week and a half ago, but the boys have only had to wear them a couple of times, and I've been really lazy about getting out hats and gloves for the kids.

Full confession - my own hat and gloves have been out for a while because it is COLD when I take Lucy for her morning walk, but once the sun comes up, it really hasn't been too bad.

For the last couple of days the high temperature has only been in the 40's, so I decided it was time to dig out hats and gloves for the kids. My plan had been to get them out after my shower yesterday morning so the kids could have them for school.

Ryan woke up just as I was heading downstairs can called "Mom, can you come here a minute?"

I went into his room and sat on his bed.

"What's up, bud?"

"Yesterday I felt really sad at school," Ryan told me while curling into my lap.

"What happened?" I asked, expecting something like someone's pet had died.

He took a deep breath, "Well, everyone else in my class has hats and gloves and I don't and my fingers get so cold."

I'll admit the guilt hit for a moment, but then I remembered, it's been in the 40s! Yes, I'm sure his fingers had been a little cold, but they were certainly not in danger of becoming frostbitten. Seriously, stick them in your pocket!

You'll be happy to know that I did give my poor, neglected son gloves to go to school yesterday. It will probably be the only time all winter he'll willingly wear them!

Ryan Style Miracles

Sometimes it's the little things that can count as full blown miracles - which means we had two Ryan style miracles today.

No, not Ryan Stiles! Ryan style!

The first took place at church today (how appropriate.)  Ryan informed us last week that he didn't want to participate in the kids Christmas musical because he didn't want everyone looking at him. We tried explaining that people looked at him in soccer, and in concerts at school, and when the choir sings at church, but we couldn't convince him that this was the same thing. We finally relented and said he didn't have to do the musical - mostly because forcing him to would only make everyone miserable - but that he would have to tell the music director on his own, we wouldn't do it for him. Ryan went into church fully prepared to break the news to Mr. Eric, but sometime between church and choir starting Ryan changed his mind. We told him that was fine, but this was it. He couldn't change his mind again. Well, he went into rehearsal and rocked it out! Mr. Eric said he did a great job and tried his hardest from rehearsal start to end. Guess we'll have two guys on stage after all.

The other Ryan style miracle took place at dinner tonight when Ryan willingly took more than one bite of the string cheese manicotti I made AND pronounced "I kind of like it!"

Can I get a hallelujah!?

You Can Quote Me on That

I love quotes. Love them. As a teen I kept poster boards taped to my wall so I could add my favorite quotes and song lyrics. I've never really gotten out of the habit of writing down or otherwise collecting my favorite quotes - although nowadays the quotes come from books rather than overly dramatic and emotional music.

The other day I noticed that many of the book blogs I follow were posting their top ten favorite quotes from books read in 2015.  Sounds right up my alley!  So, I present to you, my ten favorite quotes from books read this year!

In no particular order, the quotes are:

1. Just because a magic is small doesn't mean it is unimportant (from The Circus Mirandus by Cassie Beasley)

2. A wish is just words. Belief is the catalyst. It's what sets that wish into motion. (from Off the Page by Jodi Picoult)

3. There is the world that should be and the world that is. We live in one and must create the other. (from Turn Coat by Jim Butcher)

4. Life goes on, and you want it to. But you also want to hit pause for a moment, so you can feel one thing at a time (from Crime Rib by Leslie Budewitz)

5. Nothing and nobody could aggravate you the way your child could aggravate you. (from Big Little Lies by Liane Moriarty)

6. My chubbiest, chattiest toddler was now this lanky boy of few words, whose feet I could smell from across the room. (from A Window Opens by Elisabeth Egan)

7. The idea that two is the ideal, and that one is only good as half of two. You are not a half, and you should never treat someone else like a half." (from Hold Me Closer: The Tiny Cooper Story by David Levithan)

8. Home can be something as vast as a county, as holy as a temple, or as simple as a cake. (from Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes by Elizabeth Bard

9. While most people had moved on from children's books, Jake still loved them. They felt cozy like hot chocolate with mini marshmallows or a new jumbo box of Crayola crayons. (from Infinite in Between by Carolyn Mackler)

10. I sometimes wonder if every living thing doesn't need kind words as much as sunshine and water. (from The Hired Girl by Laura Amy Schlitz

Guess Everyone is Working Two Jobs These Days

If you read my blog regularly, you might recall that in our house the Easter Bunny brings coupons for things like "skip a chore,"  "free scoop of ice cream," "stay up late," and the like. As with anything of value, Ryan tends to spend/redeem his right away, while Wesley hoards them and pulls them out months later.

Last night we had a dinner that neither child was all that interested in eating. Wesley excused himself from the table for a moment, then returned with an Easter Bunny "dinner of your choice" coupon and asked if he could redeem it on his and Ryan's behalf by not having to eat what we were serving, and making themselves peanut butter sandwiches instead.

There are many nights Duane and I are willing to fight the "eat what we're having or nothing at all" fight, tonight was not one of them. We decided to accept the coupon and the boys made themselves sandwiches.

As I took the coupon from Wesley, Duane began to grump good naturedly about how much he dislikes the fact that the Easter Bunny leaves those coupons and that he's really going to set a good trap for that rascally rabbit when Easter rolls around again.

Ryan looked up from making his sandwich long enough to tell his dad, "I don't think Easter Bunny is real. I just think Santa comes early."

Glad he's got the answers.

My Little Poet

Wesley had to do a project about a pet he'd like to have in the future. For some reason, he chose a Siamese cat instead of anything unusual or particularly exotic. They had to do a big tri-fold poster board about their future pet and they had to include to poem on it.

So, if you will excuse the bad handwriting, and for those of you who have the patience to try and decipher it, I present Wesley's latest poem.

Alarming Oneself

I am very much a creature of habit and, like most people, tend to do the same thing at approximately the same time each day - especially on school and work mornings. By 7:15 each day I'm out of the shower and doing the whole "dry the hair and brush the teeth" thing.

This morning as I was getting ready for work, I heard Ryan shouting out "Mom! Mom!"

I dropped my hairdryer and sprinted over to his room, half in a panic.I expected to see blood or vomit or something disgusting in his room.  He was sitting up in his bed and when I appeared in the doorway said calmly, "Could you please wake me up at 7:45 today?"

"Gee, Ryan. You want me to wake you up at 7:45? You mean like I do every single school day? I think I can manage that," I answered as I left the room. 

His alarm clock (me) has a default sarcasm setting.  Good thing he didn't hit the snooze button.

Another Awesome Race Day

I did another 5K today Yes, I know, I'm a glutton for punishment.  But this race was kind of special. It was my first anniversary of the face that started it all - the Hot Chocolate 5K! I didn't do any kind of training at all for the race last year, and at the time, I was pretty proud of my finishing time of just  47 minutes, 32 seconds.

Today, with several other races under my belt and several pounds lighter, I finished in 36 minutes, 4 seconds!!

It was a very early morning. I was up at 5:15

A few of my coworkers and me

Me and my friend Gabrielle

My buddies Sarah and Ann - they did the 15K!

 

The whole race crew from the library (plus one hubby, one sister and one nephew - but we claim them)

The reason to race

When I finished the race, I immediately wanted to sign up for another, but the December races are either sold out or on dates I can't do them. DARN! So next year, maybe I can swing one month and I want one of those to be a 10K.

Who knew chocolate would wind up being so good for you?

Conference Night

The best parent/teacher conferences are the ones that contain zero surprises and end with smiles on the faces of both parents. Those are the conferences that end with a trip to the ice cream store.

Mommy is a Delicate Flower

There is nothing fun about one of your children being ill or hurt in someway. It's a terrible feeling. However, I think a lot of people tend to romanticize it a little bit. You imagine yourself as Mommy Nightingale - doing exactly what needs to be done to get your little angel on the path to wellness.

I remember my own mom taking such wonderful care of me when I was sick growing up - and I got sick a lot. I remember her holding my hair and putting a damp cloth on my neck when I would throw up. I remember back rubs, hot tea and toast, and hours lying in bed together watching game shows and soap operas.  I remember both my parents always knowing exactly what I needed to feel better.

Sadly, I am not that parent.

Oh, I can handle one of them getting a fever. I can snuggle on the couch and dole out medicine with the best of them. I am perfectly capable of reading books and watching silly cartoons to make one of my guys feel better, but anything more intense than that is completely out of my league.

Vomiting? Um - no! I start dry heaving and have to call Duane. 

Blood? Nope! Call Duane to deal with it.

Removing any kind of foreign object from any body part - definitely not! That's Duane's job.

It's actually a little embarrassing how ineffectual I am at dealing with much more than a scrape. I could barely look at the stitches on Ryan's head when he had a cyst removed as an infant. I am a certified wimp.

Take last night for instance. Last night the entire family was at scouts. Duane was in the popcorn room, Ryan was meeting with his den, Wesley was meeting with his den, and I was waiting in the lounge area for all the meetings to be over.  When things wrapped up and Ryan came downstairs, I noticed his fingernail was pretty purple. Turns out he slammed in a bathroom stall door because he was in such a hurry to use the bathroom.

"Did it hurt a lot?" I asked.

"For a little bit," my tough guy answered.

"Did you cry?"

"Just a little."  Of course, it was just a little, he's determined to shake off any pain.

"Do you want some ice for it? Or a band-aid?" 

"No!"

"Should I call Dr. Matt?"

"Mo-om! It's fine!"

And that was the refrain all night. "Mom, it's fine."

Well, when he woke up this morning, that purple nail had turned almost entirely black.  (Disgusting picture below. You have been warned.)

I have to be honest, just looking at his finger made my stomach flip in very unpleasant ways. Even this picture makes me queasy. 

"Do you want me to call Dr. Matt?" I asked.

"No, Mom. It will be fine. I mean, I can't move it much. But it doesn't hurt that much. You don't need to call the doctor."

We made a deal that he'd go see one of the nurses at school if it started hurting more and hurriedly looked away from that nasty finger.

I know this happens and I know it's not that big of a deal, but I also know that his nail will probably end up falling off, which will give me even more heebie jeebies. Seriously, what kind of mom am I that I get so grossed out so easily? 

Leaf Us Alone

Well, today was the day I always dread. The day we have to deal with all the leaves in the backyard.  But at least the boys enjoyed themselves - when they weren't complaining about being put to work.

Ready? Set! Go!

Wesley's going in

Where did he go?

Ryan kind of looks like he sat on an acorn

They actually did some work too.

I have proof

The Cost of Name Calling

We've had real issues with Wesley calling his brother names lately. There have been a lot of "stupid," "idiot," "dummy," and other choice phrases being thrown around carelessly. Last week we informed Wesley that if called his brother a name, he'd have write a list of ten nice things about Ryan as his punishment.

Well, this morning Wesley threw a "dummy" at Ryan.

"Okay Wesley, you know what that means.  I expect a list of ten nice things about your brother by the time I get home today."

Wesley slumped against the wall and sighed, "Can't I just pay him a dollar instead?"

Ryan may have appreciated the money, but the list seemed like a more fitting punishment. And no, the list Wesley came up wasn't awe-inspiring, but at least he had to put a little thought into it. And I like that he said Ryan is a good "drawler" (drawer).

Zoo Day

The weather yesterday was GORGEOUS! More like a September day instead of the start of November. The boys didn't have school and I had the day off to be with them. My original plan had been to take care of chores and things around the house, but Wesley convinced me to take him and Ryan out to the zoo. I am so glad I listened to him.

 It was perfect at the zoo! The temperature outside meant the animals were actually moving around, and it wasn't crowded since every other school district had a regular day. So it was pretty much us and the preschoolers. Of course that only served to remind me of when my guys were the preschoolers at the zoo.  Time really does fly.

Love this picture. It perfectly captures who they are right now. Ryan is still a aiming to please and so lovey. Wesley is a full blown tweenager and just too chill.

He may be ten, but he still likes to climb the letters in Habitat Hollow

 
We spent quite a bit of time in the Africa area of the zoo. Ryan and Grandma watch the lion cubs for a very long time and Wesley and I hung out at the cheetah enclosure. That little bit of time together with Wesley - just the two of us - felt so precious as he's getting older. And I learned something new about him. I learned cheetahs are his favorite wild animal.

Of course, half the fun of going to the zoo is playing and posing on the statues. Wesley is much less likely to just smile nicely, but he cracked me up with all his poses.

Very cute picture of Ryan and then there's Wesley who looks like he just smelled elephant dung. 

And then there's this.  How does he look so old here?  I'm not ready for this!

Despite looking (and acting) like a tween/teen most of the day, Wesley completely fell in love with a stuffed cheetah that Grandma so graciously purchased for him - and one for Ryan too. He named it and slept with it last night. I guess he's still a little kid in some ways.