Our Ordinary Days

Playing ball

Zippy is playing basketball and loving it!  He's good at it, too.  His team is the Longhorns, and they are the burnt orange and white just like the Texas Longhorns.  It is a bit difficult as big ol Baylor fans to cheer for the Longhorns!

Zippy scored two baskets in his game last week.  He hustles, he listens to the coach, and he encourages his teammates.  We are quite proud.

(I will try to get some photos of our other favorite basketball player this weekend.)

Test

Zachary has an anxiety disorder.  He worries a lot.  He is in a constant state of stress.

One of his anxieties is school.  Namely, failing school.  Last year he was always afraid of failing 2nd grade.  This year he is terrified of failing 3rd grade.

While all of his grades are currently passing, there is a big test that looms over the heads of all students in Texas' public schools.  The TAKS test.  3rd graders are required to pass TAKS, or they are retained in 3rd grade.  And Zach is scared of it.

The TAKS test doesn't take place until March or April, but today the students are taking a practice test.  As should be the case, this practice test is taken quite seriously.  It gives teachers, students, parents, and administration a good idea of where the students are in learning the required content.

I know that a speech from the teacher to reiterate the importance of the tests is sometimes in order for a class filled with clowns or goof-offs.  I know that since the test is of utmost importance to the teacher, the school, and the district, they feel the need to remind the students that their lives depend on their passing TAKS.

But I also know that a child like Zachary-- who is already miserably dreading TAKS, who is already convinced that he is going to fail, who already takes the test very seriously as if his life did literally depend on it--  does not need a reminder of its importance.  And in fact, a reminder of its importance may have quite a negative effect on the results of his test taking.

Zachary came home from school yesterday and announced, "Tomorrow is the day I find out if I failed 3rd grade."

Wow!  How's that for pressure??

How frustrating to be trying so hard at home to get Zach's anxieties under control only to be thrown this huge wrench of anxiety from school.  Ugh!

Remembering that today's test is actually just a practice test, I tried to convince him that this wasn't THE test.  But he wouldn't be convinced.  But thankfully he didn't mention the test much more before bed.

But then at 1:00AM, he came running to my room, crying.  "I'm going to fail 3rd grade!  I don't want to fail 3rd grade!"

I, of course, told him he wasn't going to fail . . . that we don't have to worry about that because he's going to do his best . . . that he is not going to fail 3rd grade.

He quieted down and got into bed with me.  We snuggled up close and tight just like he likes.  His little body fidgeted, writhed, and jerked as it so often does when he tries to go to sleep -- his anxious little body fighting him while he tries to relax.  Every few moments his sleepy, sad voice would say that he was going to fail.  I realized that his anxieties were speaking loud and clear in his little mind, convincing him that he would, indeed, fail.

It was then that I got the idea of whispering to him a different phrase, hoping it would drown out the whispers that were haunting him.  I wasn't sure how he would respond to my whispering.  I thought maybe he would tell me to stop and get frustrated.  But as I watched his little body jerk nervously and listened to his whimpers, I decided to take the chance.

While we cuddled, I placed my hand on his face -- a tactic which has had a calming effect on him since he was an infant -- and got my lips up close to his ear.

"You are smart and you will pass," I whispered so gently.  "You are smart and you will pass.  You are smart and you will pass," I repeated.

He did not tell me to stop.  And after a minute or so, his writhing slowed and his body relaxed just a bit.  My words were working.

"You are smart and you will pass," I repeated with each breath.  And I prayed as I spoke that my words would penetrate his mind and heart until he believed it.

For 10 minutes or more, I whispered the sentence in his ear.  When he got a little fidgety, I thought maybe he had heard enough so I stopped speaking.

But he immediately whispered sleepily, "Do more of that."

So I continued for quite a while, even after his body had relaxed into sleep.  While he snored, I whispered, "You are smart and you will pass.  You are smart and you will pass.  You are smart and you will pass."

He woke again later in the night and whimpered a little bit.  Then he snuggled up close and requested, "Do more of that."  So I whispered again, "You are smart and you will pass.  You are smart and you will pass."

This morning he didn't want to go to school.  "I'm going to fail 3rd grade today," he said.

But big brother came to the rescue!  Elliot was able to convince him that today's test was not the real thing so Zach went off to school feeling okay.

I pray like crazy that he passes today's test!

And I pray that as he sat in the quiet classroom taking his test today, that Zachary heard my whispered words in his ear:  "You are smart and you will pass.  You are smart and you will pass."

Sick Boy

Elliot.  Poor Elliot.  He is a sick boy.  He has a terrible stomach bug.  A stomach bug that I'm hoping he doesn't share.  It's a bad one.

He started vomiting at midnight last night, and then he vomited every 20 minutes until the sun came up.  It. was. bad.

He was so miserable all day today.  We finally went to the doctor at 11.  By that time his vomiting had slowed to every hour.  Ugh.  The doctor gave him some medicine to stop the nausea.  Thankfully, the medicine was fast-acting.  He hasn't thrown up since.  And he has even kept some saltines and Gatorade down.

After our trek to the doctor, Elliot was feeling so exhausted and yucky and wanted nothing more than to get back on the couch and go to sleep.  We were getting home just in time before he melted down completely.  But to our disappointment, my garage door opener wouldn't work.  It wouldn't work!  And I didn't have a key to the house.  We were locked out.

I quickly devised a plan:  first, stop at my dear neighbor's house to see if she has any saltines; second, drive 10 minutes away to the battery store and get a new battery for the garage door opener; third, rush home and put the miserable boy on the couch.

My dear neighbor had saltines!!  And she even had some Sprite for Elliot to try!  Bless her!

The battery store had the right battery!  The nice man installed it for me, and only charged me $7.77!  I handed over my credit card, explaining that I would have paid WAY MORE than that at this point!  That lifesaver is definitely going on the Christmas card list for next year!

I ran (yes, I literally ran -- my sick boy was counting on me to hurry!) to the car and rushed home.  As we pulled up in the driveway and watched with relief as the garage door opened, Elliot had reached his limit.  He. was. miserable!

But he was home.  And he's been on the couch ever since.

And now we wait and we pray until we learn if the stomach bug is done with Elliot and if it's going to stick around our house or not.  Let's hope the mean ol bug makes his way down the street instead!  I mean, not to my dear neighbor's house, of course. . . .

$2 x 3

I'm looking for $6.  Gotta find $6 before morning.

Elliot is losing his baby molars.  Well, that's not exactly true.  Elliot is losing pieces of his baby molars.

The first one happened a month or so ago.  He was flossing -like all perfect children do- when the floss stuck to his tooth and broke half of it off.  Half of his molar was in his hand; half of his molar was still in place and not even loose.  Weird.

Since it didn't hurt him all that bad the next day, I decided we didn't have to rush to the dentist.

This weekend after Elliot was in bed, he felt with his tongue that the molar on the other side of his mouth was loose.  He touched it lightly with his tongue . . . and half of the molar broke off.  He came in my room again with half of his molar in his hand while the other half was still in his mouth not even loose.  Weird.  Weird, weird, weird. I stared into his mouth at 2 half molars firmly in place.  And these 2 halves did not make a whole!

So we went to the dentist on Monday morning.  I expected the dentist to call in all her friends while they stared and studied this odd phenomenon of teeth crumbling in a child's mouth.  But, surprisingly, she wasn't the least bit thrown.  It seems that it is not uncommon for baby teeth to crumble.  <shrug>

After xrays, the dentist showed me 2 more molars that were in danger of crumbling soon.  I signed the release for her to pull the 2 halves and one of the others.  I was sure wishing that 2 halves did make a whole so I wouldn't have to pay for all 3 teeth . . . .

So my boy had 3 extractions yesterday.  His eating and chewing is slightly inconvenienced.

And I need $6.

And then I have to maneuver up onto the 7 or so foot loft bed and carefully slip the money under his pillow.  I will try to be more graceful than I was the time that I completely fell on top of him while he was sleeping.  Thankfully he already knew that I was the tooth fairy; otherwise, that would have been a tough one to explain . . . .

Now, to find $6 . . . .

The Scent of Perfume

I love it when Chloe gets off the bus in the afternoon smelling of perfume.  I always wonder whose perfume it is . . . . the bus driver or her aide?  one of Chloe's teachers?  one of the aides at school?  one of the therapists?  the counselor or nurse?

I love it when she smells of perfume - not just because she smells so good.

I love it when she smells of perfume because it means someone during the day took the time to love on her a little bit.

And it makes me smile.

Just What I've Always Wanted

One day this week, Zippy and I were in the van together -- you know, the van that I have driven for 5 or 6 years.

The question from the backseat:  "Mama, is this a minivan?"

"Yes, it is."  I replied.

"Oooooooo!  I've always wanted a minivan!!  Wow!  I didn't know this was one!"

And there you have it.  I granted a boy's dreams and wishes -- just. . . like . . . that!

Warm Coats

Warm coats!!  A little too late? . . . or right on time?

I did not post yesterday because my entire day was zapped with taking Elliot to the doctor -- we were there for over 2 hours!!! -- and shopping desperately for coats for my boys.  I hear that later today, we are getting an Arctic Blast -- AN ARCTIC BLAST!!!!!  It will get down to 14 degrees tonight and the next couple of nights -- 14 degrees!!!  The high for the rest of the week is in the 20's -- The HIGH for the rest of the week is in the 20's!!!!

Okay,  I will try to stop repeating myself.

I admitted here this week that my boys didn't have winter coats.  But when I heard of the ARCTIC BLAST coming to attack us, I decided to run out and get coats.  Well, guess what?  The first week of January is NOT a good time to buy coats for children . . .  because all the coats are gone!!

So after running all over town yesterday for hours, I think I bought the last 4 coats in the Fort Worth area for my 2 boys!  Yes, 4 coats.  I originally bought Zach a really pretty yellow coat.  Yellow is his favorite color, and I couldn't wait to show it to him.  But it went back to the store because it "looks like a girl."  And the first coat I bought for Elliot had a small rip in the sleeve.  But I was feeling desperate!  It was a really puffy coat and the only one in the city so I grabbed it.  But later I found him another coat that wasn't quite as puffy and had no rip.  (I, for one, can't stand a puffy coat, and I can't imagine my boys playing outside and being able to ride a bike or play basketball in a really puffy coat . . . .  but that's just me!)

I would like to end this post with something brave and daring like, "So come on, you nasty Arctic Blast!  We are so ready for you, you bad boy!"

But the truth is, I'm frightened of the Arctic Blast.  It. Will be. So. Cold.

Forgot One Little Thing

Tonight I sent Zachary to take his shower.  I had already started it for him so the water could get hot before he got there.  He ran off to get in the shower, but a minute later I heard him in the bathroom:  "Oh no!  Oh no!  I forgot. . .  I forgot.  Oh no!"

Paul ran in to see what was going on.  Zippy was standing in the middle of the bathroom floor, dripping wet.

"Uh oh.  I forgot to take off my clothes!" he laughed.

New Year's Hope

New Year's Eve, Paul had to work so Zippy slept in Paul's spot in the bed beside me -- a privilege the boys often fight over.  (And Mom loves it, knowing that in a few short years they won't want to sleep with me anymore.)  Zippy and I did not stay up to welcome the new year.  Instead, we went to bed around 10 and cuddled up close so we could sharemy new electric blanket.

Just about the time I thought he'd be asleep, he spoke in a sleepy little voice, "I can't believe tomorrow is 2010."

"Me either," I whispered back.

"I can't wait," he said in his groggy, slurred voice.

"Me either," I whispered back, smiling.

And then his next words came in the same groggy slur but were delivered with such authority and truth that I almost sat right up in bed.  "It's gonna be a really good year, Mama."

I seriously missed a breath or two while those words repeated in my mind.  It was weird and surprising how it struck me.  I felt like it was a message -- a promise, even -- from God.  I silently thanked God for it.  And as I listened to Zippy's little snore beside me, I claimed that statement for my family for this year.

"It's gonna be a really good year!"

Beauty Sleep -- Not!

I think probably the "beauty factor" doesn't kick in if your sleep is broken up into 20-minute intervals!  Ugh!

I used to have nights like last night all the time -- literally 4 or 5 nights a week!  So when they happen now and then, I'm reminded that I should be very thankful for how far we've come.

Here's the play-by-play from last night:

First of all, you should know that I have been taking Trazodone for the last year or so to help me sleep at night.  My doctor prescribed it, explaining that "sometimes Mommies can't make their minds stop running enough to sleep at night."  Yep, that pretty much explains it.  The Trazodone is good stuff for the most part.  But when I take it and then am awakened with something that I need to take care of in the night, I often run into walls and stagger around in my grogginess.  Really!  But other than that, the stuff is good.  It helps me go to sleep and stay asleep.  Cutting the Trazodone to the right size for my dosage has been A PAIN!!  (Another story for another day!)  Anyway, when I picked up my prescription a couple of days before Christmas, my parents both tried to help me cut them (again, another story. . .), and my medicine got lost in all the Christmas stuff, and I haven't taken it in a few days.  Thus, I lay awake ALL NIGHT!

So last night, I went to bed at 10:30.  I think I finally dozed sometime after 11.

Paul came in shortly before midnight -- I woke up and was awake for a long time.

Paul turned off his reading light at around 1:00 -- I woke up again and was awake for a long time.

2:00 --  Zippy came in saying he had a dream.  He got in bed with us.  I was awake for a long time.

3:00 -- Zippy started coughing.  I got up, found his rescue inhaler, and used it two or three times.

Coughing continued.  Finally gave 2 nebulizer treatments at 3:45 which finally stopped his attack.

Laid back down a little after 4:00 and was awake for a long time.

Elliot came in at 4:30 saying he had a bad dream.  He wanted to sleep with us, but I talked him into going to the couch since I already had little feet sticking in my back.  I helped Elliot get some blankets for the couch and went back to bed and was awake for a long time.

I was awake for a long time at this point.

About the time I started dozing, Zippy woke up, asking if he could get up and go play the wii.  I told him no, bribed him asked him to stay still and quiet so that Elliot could stay sleeping.  I had hoped that maybe I could go back to sleep, too, but he needed me to rub his back and rub his face and rub his belly and hold him and answer questions etc.

Anyway, by this time the sun was coming up.  Elliot came in a little bit later, and I sent both boys away to go play the wii quietly together.

And that was my night.  My nearly sleepless night.  I'm glad those nights don't happen much anymore.

Is it nap time yet??