Everybody's kids do this... right?

I get told I should write a book all the time. I'm told at least once each week that I should have my own reality TV show. But... this stuff goes on in everyone's houses I thought?

You mean not everyone's kids use pantyliners as surgical masks? Not every 5-year-old kid's answer to racism is explaining how melanin works? Not every 7-year-old kid break dances like a boss? Oh. Well maybe we're weird then.

I really need to get better about writing stuff down. Books don't write themselves.

Happy 4th Birthday!

Tomorrow is a special day in our house. It's someone's birthday! We've been looking forward to it and planning how we're going to celebrate with this special guy. 

It's Jack's birthday!

He's going to be 4-years-old tomorrow. It really seems like yesterday that we drove out to western Oklahoma to pick him up. I saw him for the first time and he was such a little fluffy puff. 

Noah was a little fluffy puff too.

Awwwwww :)

Now he's all grown up (and so are the kids!) and we can't even take a vacation without him.

This was his "Colorado haircut."

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JACK!!! We love you!

"Good" Friday

Every Easter I struggle with how to handle the holiday. My family is still young so we don't have it all figured out quite yet. In Christian tradition, Easter is only rivaled by Christmas as the biggest and most anticipated holiday of the year. Christmas has advent and decorations and certain recipes that help to make it special. Easter has... well, nothing.

We don't "do" Santa, the Tooth Fairy, Leprechauns, or the Easter Bunny. Easter isn't about bunnies, eggs, and chocolate. It's about the death and resurrection of the one I love most.

The thing is, you have to go through the "death" part before you get to the resurrection. This is my hang up. How do you celebrate that?! So here I sit on Good Friday depressed and barely holding things together. I've  heard/seen the "Sunday's coming" speech/video a hundred times and I love it. But, right now, it's Friday.

And that's kind of where I'm at.

Amita Noel

So over the Summer we had a baby. Surprise! Did I tell you about that? My bad. ANYwho, she's going to be 8 months old in less than a week. Again, sorry. 

It was Friday, June 22nd. I had just worked my last day of VBS. I was co-in charge of kids snacks for the entire program. It was more of a job than I had bargained for at 9-months pregnant, but I loved it and will be volunteering to do it again this summer. We stayed late on Friday because we watched the program the kids do to mark the end of VBS. It was a good time for all. We left around 1pm and I took the kids home to meet up with Nathan so he could watch them while I met my doc up at L&D to try an External Cephalic Version (ECV) to turn my stubborn breech baby. This procedure is most commonly done in a doctor's office, but I have a paranoid doctor. I picked Chris up from work and met my doc up at L&D at 2pm. Met with the anesthesiologist who decided to give me a spinal that would just numb me up and then wear off. There was no need to put a narcotic for pain control in it since right after the procedure I'd be headed to get some nachos and go home.

It's a small hospital and the only place to do it was in the OR. Chris was on the fence about coming back with me but his better judgement prevailed and he came with. While he was getting his OR gown on I was getting a spinal without him. (Not happy about that, btw. They could have waited an extra 5 minutes.) By the time he came in my doc was doing her thing - trying to externally turn the baby to a head-down position. Should have been a 5 minute procedure. A couple minutes in it became completely obvious that baby was NOT going to turn. Her heart rate dropped dangerously low and wouldn't come back up. My blood pressure and heart rate went to the toilet and they had to push some epi to get it back to a comfortable range. Now I'm strapped down to the OR table because I'm shaking so hard it could have been mistaken for a seizure while my doc starts telling the OR staff that "We're going to go ahead and open." That meant the nurses started setting up sterile fields lightning fast and pretty soon I have a curtain going up in my face and my doctor saying, "Well, you're having a baby today!" I beg Chris to stay on my side of the curtain and not watch what's about to happen.

The anesthesiologist earned his money that Friday. After he got my heart rate under control he had to start worrying about the fact that I'm split wide open on the table and my spinal (without any added narcotic, remember?!) is going to wear clean off pretty quickly. See the thing about a spinal is that it's a shot in the back that wears off, unlike an epidural that feeds continuous numbing until the catheter is taken out of your back. Think fast, Doc. This isn't going to go well. Side note: this was also the day we found out that morphine does absolutely nothing for me except to slur my speech. I'm officially in shock. I can't tell which way is up and I am completely numb to everything that's going on around me. 

I feel some pulling and then emptiness. I can tell she's out and I'm not pregnant anymore. She isn't crying. They don't stop working on me. They hold her up for me to see for just a second. Why isn't she crying? They take her over to the in-room bassinet area to work on her. They just tell me she is having some trouble.  She never cries. I get stitched up and transferred to a different bed. They wheel me over to where she is and hold her up for a quick picture.

I've never showed this picture to anyone because I think she looks dead.

They took me back to the regular L&D room I had started in. My doctor came in a few minutes later. My first question was "How is she?" my second question was "OH MY GOODNESS can I get some pain meds STAT?!?" She said my baby was being transferred by ambulance to a bigger hospital with a NICU that could support her. The ambulance was on their way up for her, and their team would bring her in to see me before they took her away. When she came in she was in this horrible looking contraption on the gurney. She was in a plastic bubble with tubes everywhere. She didn't move at all. I couldn't touch her. She still wasn't crying.

They brought her tiny 6 pound 4 ounce body in to see me in one of these.

She left and I pitched a fit. I wanted to go with her. "You just had surgery." "I want to be transferred with her." "That isn't something we usually do..." "Figure it out. Please. I want to go with her." 

My doctor went to bat for me and got me transferred several hours later. While I was waiting, we decided we better let our babysitter know we were going to be late. And I may want to let my family from out of town know we'd just had a baby... and we're probably going to need some help. Right now. Get in the car.

It's difficult to explain to family while doped up on pain pills that I've just had a baby and not only is she not doing well, she isn't even here. She's been transferred to a NICU miles away. Go ahead and meet me over there. I'm going to get transferred over there... eventually.

I spent the entire ambulance ride filling out forms describing how I was going to pay for said ambulance ride. Did you know it costs $36 per mile (just for the mileage) to ride in an ambulance?! Just an interesting fact. Anyway, I got up to my new recovery room on the L&D floor and they put me in the hall opposite to the new mothers hall. This hall is where they put the women who don't want to hear babies cry. Understandable for women who's babies have died or have made their way into the NICU. The hall was quiet. You would have never guessed this was L&D. It was late now. I sent Chris to the NICU to find Amita. I didn't see her again that night.

The next day I was able to get into a wheel chair so Chris could take me down to see her. She was so tiny and all the tubes attached to her made her look even smaller. We got to hold her later that day for the first time. 

Inside her little NICU room. All the tubes were heavier to hold up than she was.

By the third day I was able to walk to see her. Slowly and sometimes with several stops along the way, but if there wasn't a wheel chair around, I was GOING to see my baby anyway. I was there every minute I was allowed to be. I could come in once for a few minutes every three hours. Talk about motivation to ambulate. She got a blood transfusion on day 3. Looking back, it was really after that point that she started to improve. I wish I could find out exactly who's blood that was and thank them personally. I just know I'll be giving blood for the rest of my life.

I was ready to be discharged. Ami was not. I pleaded to my doctor and she let me stay on as an admit for one more day. After that we got to "room in" which is essentially squatting in our room for a couple of days or until they needed to put another patient in it. We took full advantage. On our last day we went in to see her and her IV was out! She still had tons of other tubes, but that was one less!

Check out my foot without my IV!

While we're in our classes to be able to bring her home from the NICU, my mom, who has been watching the other kids in a hotel all week, calls and says she's at the pediatrician and all my kids just tested positive for strep. Awesome. Well, looks like you guys are staying at the hotel for another couple of days until those antibiotics are through your systems! Over a week after she was born, the kids got to meet their baby sister for the first time. My little sister ended up with strep. I say it was because she let my kids watch The Princess and the Frog. Karma... or whatever.

Ignore the PJs we were all perpetually living in.

So now here we are nearly 8 months later and I can't imagine not having her sweet face smiling at me every day. She's also totally chunked out - in true Mendez child style.

This is her on the way out of the NICU and then at 1, 2, 3, 4 & 5 months. 

Amita Noel means Never-ending Christmas. She came in a whirlwind and has been the greatest gift I could possibly imagine. I think her name suits her perfectly.

You don't scare anyone

Remember when you were a kid and there was that one kid (or group of kids) who made it their life's mission to try to make you miserable? Maybe you saw this happen to someone you knew. Maybe it was you doing the bullying.

That kid was awesome, right? It was just so admirable how they took that other kid and pushed them off the playground equipment. It was hilarious when little Johnny cried.

Oh, it wasn't?

That's right, it wasn't. News flash! It still isn't. Now that you're an adult you can talk down to other people and that makes you feel big and strong, doesn't it? That's sweet, Honey, but it makes you look like a fool. Please do yourself a favor and shove a rag in your mouth (tape up your fingers?) if you can't control the verbal diarrhea. 

Know what's different about now? Little Johnny is all grown up. He isn't afraid of you. John thinks you're pathetic and should probably get some counseling. Times change.

Please, please, please find a hobby. Take up a new sport. Read a good book. Find something (anything) else to do with your life. I've tried to say it kindly for YEARS and it's falling on deaf ears. I'm trying one last time. The only thing worse than looking stupid is opening your mouth and proving it.

Potty Hostage

Most of my posts tend to revolve around my youngest lately. I've thought about why that is and all I can think of is she is the one keeping me on my toes. Like today when I had to clean up smeared poo all over the bathroom because she didn't want to wait for me to be ready to potty train her. She's ready NOW. When I wasn't a willing participant, she took it upon herself to get'r'done.

Bad Mama. I know. I'm onthe ball now. We'll spend tomorrow in panties. ::shudder:: I really hate potty training. It's the worst part about having a two-year-old. The fits? No problem. The screaming? No sweat. Stepping on a wet spot on the carpet that you didn't know about? THE WORST. Sometimes I walk into a room and feel like I can smell urine. Then I crawl around like a crazy person sniffing the carpet thinking someone peed and it DRIED on there. Oh the horror.

So if anyone has any encouragement, words of wisdom, xanax... (kidding about that last one... pregnant and what not.) I'm all ears. I'm just not ready to be a potty hostage. I guess I just need an attitude adjustment. She's 2.5 for heaven sake. Well, here we go!

I... am so sorry.

You know that verbal diarrhea that rude people get whenever they see a pregnant woman? You know those tactless people who say things like "Let me tell you about how horrible my labor/delivery was..."

::sigh::

I have been one of those people. My crime: fawning over baby boys. See, I have a boy. I think he's the greatest thing since... well I can't even think of anything to compare him to. He holds a special place in my heart that only a son could. So what's the problem?

I also have three daughters.

Each time I discovered I was pregnant, I hoped it was another boy. I wanted to duplicate the love and relationship I had with my first born. When #2 was a girl, I was okay with it. Hubs really wanted a girl so I thought "Well, I have one and now you have one." Healthy, I know... It doesn't really help that our personalities conflict so we haven't even been THAT close. She is definitely a Daddy's Girl if ever there was one.

But then #3, just a few months later, was a girl. My whole pregnancy with her I felt defensive. You can only hear "Was it planned?!?" "How old is your youngest?!" "You know what causes that, don't you?!" so many times before you develop a bitterness to everyone who so much as glances at your stomach. Up until the day she was born I was, in a way, apologizing to everyone for being pregnant. Then she was born and I looked into her sweet face...

She was perfect. She was beautiful. She wasn't a consolation prize. She was my DAUGHTER and I was absolutely head over heels in LOVE. I bonded with her immediately in a way I hadn't experienced with my first two. I spent the whole first night just staring into her sweet face. I was so convicted. How could I have been resentful that this little girl was mine? How DARE I feel that way?!

#3 is 2.5 years old now. She's laying here beside me while #1 is at school and #2 watches TV. She'd rather be next to me, whatever I'm doing. She's an amazing little girl. Sometimes when I think about how much I love her, I feel like my heart will explode.

When they said, "Looks female" about #4, my heart skipped a beat.  It isn't gender that determines your connection to a child. It isn't gender that dictates their worth. I love ALL of my children equally. We are beyond excited about our new little girl.

So, young mother of that baby girl, I am SO sorry for spewing my preference for baby boys in front of you. I'm guilty of gushing on and on about little boys and how they're my FAVORITE right in front of mothers of little girls. And you know what? That just isn't true. I wouldn't trade a single one of my girls in for a boy. My son is amazing. So are my daughters.

The next time someone comes up to you and starts up the mouth with no filter, remember they're not TRYING to make you feel bad. They're just an idiot... like me.

A toddler scorned

I have a two-year-old with a personality that barely fits into her tiny 26 pound body. 

She loves to go to church. She loves her class and she loves her friends. Since she's there 3 times each week for different things, she's very used to these people and classrooms. BUT. When we go on Tuesday mornings.  ::deep breath:: 

"I don't want to go to my class!"

"Why not? Don't you want to play with your friends?"

"No. I want to stay with mama."

"You can do a puzzle with Brooklynn. See? Brooklyn needs a friend to play with."

"No. She's fine. I'll stay with you."

When I came back to pick her up 2 hours later, they said... "Uhh, we had some problems. For an hour. She just stood there at the glass by the door and was angry." This meant she had stood there for an hour plotting my demise. She's not the type to throw an all out walleye fit (usually...) but she lets you know she. is. mad. She gives me the stink eye. She won't hold my hand. Shoot, she wouldn't even walk with me to the car. She trailed 5 feet behind me like she didn't want to be seen together.

By the time we got home she was fine. She is once again "Mommy's Woogie" but just wait until the next time I tick her off. Oh the teen years should be a blast. And she'll just be one of four teenagers in the house. Looks like I may have bigger issues than the grocery bill at that point.

Perspective

I'm feeling like Eeyore today so I'm going to write a post of 12 GOOD things I can think about and be thankful for. What better way to pull myself out of a funk?

1. My whole family is HEALTHY! This is huge y'all. At least one of the kids is usually sniffling or something, but right now we have a whole house of healthy people. Can I get an amen?!?

2. Spring is here! While today that means storms and sideways rain, it also means t-shirts and kids getting to play outside! Woohoo! It also means baby birds tweeting and ducks to feed at the park. :) We're saving our bread heels.

3. BOTH the kid rooms are clean. Yes, you read that correctly.

4. We are BLESSED beyond measure as evidenced by all the clothes I need to fold. Most of them I didn't even have to pay for. They're either handed down or gifted to us. Super awesome.

5. Chris was able to fix the blinds in the girls room that I thought were broken. I had SUCH a bad attitude when I saw them. I thought they were hopeless but Dad comes to the rescue every time.

6. I HAVE A HOUSE! While I may grumble about it from time to time, all I need to do is flash back to apartment (or even duplex) living and voila! I'm cured! Having my own house is such a blessing. I can paint if I want to and you know what? I want to.

7. We aren't a TV centered household. My kids are smart and funny and creative. They make things and play pretend instead of asking to watch TV. You should see some of the games they invent. They're actually pretty good.

8. My husband has a good job. He isn't on the chopping block worried about if he'll have it next month. He has awesome hours, awesome benefits, and awesome coworkers. Him being happy at works makes me happy. I remember what it was like to hate a job and still have to go in every day because you needed the money. So thankful that isn't a daily reality for him.

9. I'm in school! I can't wait to go to class every week and learn more about the field I love.

10. I live in a fantastic area. There is super low crime. The schools are good. There are 57 protestant churches in the city limits. There are tons of good people and good causes centered here. We love it.

11. I'm having a baby! EEEEEEEK! I don't think anyone really realizes how much this baby was wanted and prayed for. While we may get the occasional, "ANOTHER ONE?!?!" We know we are richly blessed and can't WAIT to welcome this little one into our home.

12. I have the most solid marriage out of anyone I know. Due mainly to my amazing husband who really is my rock. He's way more than I could have asked for and definitely more than I deserve.

Sickies

Isla has been really sick lately. She has run a fever and near about coughed up her ever-lovin' lungs.

I've figured out that if I wake up and keep her medicated, she sleeps a lot better. Poor thing is miserable if I let her fever flare back up. I've been known to make a midnight run to Walgreens when I don't gauge how much ibuprofen we have very well.

Still, as long as we have books to read and another round of ABCs to sing we're doing alright. God bless the library.

Duct tape baseball

At the suggestion of my GENIUS mother-in-law, I took a piece of string and tied a duct tape ball to one end. I looped the other end around a nail in a doorway, gave my toddler a kitchen utensil and told her to go to town! My 2-year-old and 3-year-old absolutely love this. It keeps them occupied for quite a while. This comes in super handy when I'm trying to cook dinner or help their older brother with homework. :) 

The best part is when they're done, you just wrap the string around it and throw it in a drawer to pull out another time! It's like they've never seen it before every time and it's just as much fun.

What love is

I love the quote about fathers that says, "The best gift a father could give his children is to love their mother." The truth contained in that statement is phenomenal. A father loving his daughter's mother teaches her that she is worth loving and models how she should be treated in a relationship. A father loving his son's mother shows that boy how to be a man and how to treat a woman. Wow.

My Dad traveled a lot for work and sometimes we didn't go with him. The model wasn't there. I think I looked to my grandparents by default. I remember my Grandad being my whole world. Any time he and Granny went on vacation, they picked me and my cousin up on the way out. Granny was an iron fist. She would paddle me if I needed it and she'd give you a swat too if she felt like you could benefit from it. She really fit more into a mothering role than a grandmother. Grandad never said a harsh word to us kids. He was the one waiting there with a piece of candy to mend our broken hearts after Granny had pulled a switch from the tree (which we totally deserved, by the way.)

Summer of 1999 (I think?) they drove down to see us on the Texas coast. We decided to jog over to Galveston for a few days so as not to break the Summer vacation streak we had running. We walked the strip I was all too familiar with until time to have dinner. We passed this warehouse looking building that was an Italian restaurant called Mario's. It was Granny's idea to eat at "Mary-o's" that night. My cousin and I being the NES champs that we were promptly corrected her. "Granny, it's Ma-ree-oh's." This happened a couple more times through out the evening just in conversation. Then, out of nowhere, our world got rocked. 

"You kids stop correcting your Granny! If she wants to say it that way, she will! You shut your mouths about it!" 

I spent the next hour crying quietly into my sleeve and my cousin spent it sick in the restaurant bathroom. Talk about heart break. That is the only time in my life I can ever recall him saying a harsh word to any of us kids and I still remember the sinking feeling in my chest that came with it. I would rather Granny had picked up a switch there on the side of the Galveston strip and let me have it. 

Know what that taught me? (Other than to keep my mouth shut, thank you very much.) I know for an absolute fact that my Grandad loves me more than anything in this world. That didn't change that Summer, but what he made sure we knew was that Granny is his WIFE, and favorite kids in the world or not, you mess with her, you get the wrath of the man who loves her. That planted a seed in me way back then that means so much more to me now. It's really amazing. They've been married for 51 years. I know for a fact, to this day, if you tried to confront my Granny, you'd have to go through him first. You know, that's just the way it should be.

My grandparents on their 50th wedding anniversary last year. <3

Something your Mama would say

Know what I love? Saying something over and over and over. Trying to get my point across about something and no one is listening. Then someone else comes by and whispers the same. exact. thing. and everyone says, "Oh! What a great thought/idea/solution/opinion!" Yeah... that's always nice. Especially when you're pretty sure the whisperer took it from you in the first place. Even if they didn't, LISTEN UP, PEOPLE! Quit ignoring the people in your life. It was OBVIOUSLY something worth hearing if you were so jazzed to hear it second hand. Just imagine if you had been on the wagon when it originally came though! Please, don't drown out people who are talking to you. It's so frustrating (obviously) and demoralizing - not to mention painfully obvious. Please just treat people the way you would like to be treated.

Bob! Don't marry that harpy!

Al: Hey, you know how it is when you see someone that you haven't seen since high school, and they got some dead-end job, and they're married to some woman that hates them, they got three kids who, like, think he's a joke? Wasn't there some point where you stood back and said, "Bob, don't take that job! Bob, don't marry that harpy!" You know?

Dirk: Your point?

Al: Well, we're in the desert, looking for the source of a river pollutant, using as our map a cave drawing of a Civil War gunship, which is also in the desert. So I was just wondering when we're gonna have to sit down and re-evaluate our decision-making paradigm?

Sahara has got to be one of my very favorite movies. 

I have a super short attention span lately... or so it seems. I can watch an infinite number of consecutive Bones episodes, but if you ask me if I want to sit and watch a movie, I shy away from a commitment of that magnitude. An hour and a half of sitting in the same spot I've BEEN sitting for the past hour?! Lets not go crazy.

I love a good movie. Shoot, I've sat through ALL THREE Lord of the Rings movies with my Hubs. I'm not sure why a movie in the evening spooks me. It's not like I have anything else to do at 10pm on a Monday, right?! Must be the hormones.

He didn't say "some things."

Recently I've been thinking a lot about Romans 8:28. It says, "all things work together for good for those who love God for those called according to his purpose."

Last week at church our pastor did a whole sermon about that verse. One of the points he made was that the verse doesn't say we'll be able to see it all come together for good in the end. We just have to know that it will. He also said that sometimes God lets us see it come together in hind sight.

When I was about 2-years-old we had a gas stove with a mind of it's own. It gave my mom grief trying to light the pilot on it every now and then. My mom is smart. She knew the basic things you need to do to be safe and she certainly knew how to use a gas stove. Nevertheless, the stove turned in it's notice one day and blew up in her face as she tried to light it. It sent a fire ball out that covered the entire top half of her body. It burned her hands, neck, and face really badly. My Dad is a safety engineer and immediately jumped into action. He threw a blanket over her to put out the flames and then held her kicking and screaming in a cold shower for 15 minutes. She said being in that shower was more painful than being on fire. She didn't stop cursing him for a week - or so he says. I was 2, remember? Him holding her under that water saved her from SERIOUS, long-lasting injury. Because he acted so quickly, you can't even really see any scars on her. She came out of that horrible situation as well as could be hoped.

My Mom loves God. She knows Romans 8:28 by heart but struggled with WHY that had to happen to her. Nothing good could come out of being a human fire ball and then tortured.

When I was in 8th grade, we moved for the umpteenth time (Safety engineers move more often than the military I swear.) to a little town outside of Fort Worth, Texas called Decatur. We'd been in the house all of a week maybe. My Dad was off working crazy long days at his new project site when my baby sister, Natalee, who was just a toddler at the time pulled a pot off the stove and spilled boiling soup all over the front of her naked-except-for-a-diaper body. Her skin started falling off her stomach in sheets like it was melting. It was so horrible and gruesome. I couldn't do anything but stand there in shock. Without missing a beat, my Mom scooped her up and carried her up the stairs as fast as she could. She stood in the freezing cold shower with my sister, fully clothed, water running everywhere for a good 15 minutes while I called 911.

I can still remember the sounds of my sister screaming and my mom crying as she had to hold her down.

Since my Dad wasn't home, I rode in the ambulance with Natalee while my mom and other sister followed behind us in the van. My Dad met us at the hospital where I remember hearing the doctors telling my parents how badly Nat had been burned. The one part of the conversation I remember perfectly clearly was the doctor saying if my Mom hadn't held her under that cold shower to stop the burn from moving deeper into her tissues, she may not be alive. All of her vital organs were directly in the path of that burn.

My Dad wasn't home. This isn't something couples sit around and talk about in the evenings. Had that stove not blown up in my Mom's face, she wouldn't have known how to save my sister's life.

"ALL THINGS work together for GOOD for those who love God for those called according to His purpose."

Thank you so much Lord for giving us little glimpses into your plan. Thank you for the opportunity to see it come together and see how a tragic event was your mercy in disguise.

Me and my sister, Natalee.

I'm feeling sentimental today. My anniversary is coming up. I will have been married to the love of my life for 5 years. I think back to the crazy person I was before I found my other half and I completely understand why so many people are looking for what I have - a person to spend forever with. A HAPPY FOREVER! Honestly, we have our ups and downs. Most of those downs were in the 1st year - Ugh... But we have NEVER considered divorce. We have never said anything in the heat of the moment that we couldn't take back. Never walked out on each other.

I really truely believe he is the greatest man on the planet. I think he's the best possible father and husband this life has to offer. I often wonder how in the WORLD he ended up with a girl like me. I don't understand God's hand, but I. Am. So. Thankful. That man is my rock. He's there for me no matter how many days it's been since I showered and no matter how bad I'm feeling. (Because it's been time for bed and I'm still in my jammies from yesterday!)

He's amazing. I love him with my whole, entire heart. I could never be this happy with anyone else. He is my soul mate for sure. I love you Chris. <3

My eyes are getting itchy

Today was the first day of my semester. My three hour class took all of 30 minutes. I guess she figured we would need the rest of the time to go BUY and LOOK OVER our syllabus. The thing is easily 150 pages and cost me $8.50 at a print shop. I don't think I've ever had a syllabus over 5 pages in the 7 years I've been in college. Welcome to the nursing program! It's like death on paper, but I'm excited and I already have it highlighted and tabbed appropriately.

I have someone from pretty much every branch of the medical field tied to my family in some way. My mother-in-law works for the surgeon that will be taking Noah's tonsils and adenoids out this month. Chris' grandmother works for an ophthalmologist. So I called her today to ask about Noah's pink eye. Verdict is as I feared - it's almost a certainty it will work it's way through all three kids so get him to the doc for some antibiotic eye drops stat. Will do. Are anyone else's eyes feeling itchy? O_o

I'm sure his school is going to be THRILLED that he missed a week of school for something other than the tonsillectomy I warned them about. Missing 2 weeks of school in a month - albeit not consecutive weeks - is nothing to sneeze at. Hopefully he isn't scarred for life. I'm rolling my eyes over here... since, you know, sarcasm doesn't translate well in print. He's a smart kid and he'll catch up. Shoot, all he's doing is sitting around reading books through his goopy eyes anyway. That and watching lots of TV, but lets stick to the book story, K?

Seriously... my eyes are starting to itch. Where is the lysol?!

Why?!

WHY does jello take so long to set up? If I wanted jello 12 hours from now, I'd make it then. The pre-made jello packs are not the same. They're not the right consistency. Such a pain in the rear.

WHY don't people change their address when they move?! I've lived in this house for 2.5 YEARS and I still get mail for the people we bought it from... AND THE PEOPLE WHO LIVED HERE BEFORE THEM. Seriously.

Rats!

I can't believe I missed posting yesterday! Not that I had anything go on to write home about.

I got all 3 kids to church (ON TIME! Woot!) by myself while Chris stayed home and tried his best to feel better. This time of year is killer on the medical budget. Speaking of, time to take my antibiotic.

School started this week. It's going to be interesting only taking one class this semester. Somehow only taking one class is way more intimidating to me than taking a full course load.

Tomorrow is my Lovey's birthday. I'm so proud to be his wife. He really is the greatest guy in the whole world. <3 Happy Birthday, Chris! I love you so much!

Spring break!

All this week the weather has been absolutely amazing. Right now, I have every window in the house open and I can't get enough of the breeze. The sun is out. That's kind of rare for this time of year when the days are short and the skies are overcast. It's just been such a blessing to have this break from winter. It's like a real "Spring break." :)

The other side of that coin is that my grass needs to be mowed. Ha! I'll take it.

After being inside and watching a ton of tv while I haven't been up to par, the kids are so excited to get outside and play. Sidewalk chalk, soccer balls, tricycles. It's been glorious.