Off to Guatemala....

I have spent the last several days preparing our team to drive down to Guatemala. We have a foundation that provides funds and equipment to the firefighters in Guatemala.

Yesterday, I had quite the entertaining show. I watched our two mechanics fight it out. One mechanic was our own Ed Hennings from my fire department in the States. The other was Eduardo Luna, a firefighter from Guatemala. Each of them are skilled at metalergy. But neither speak the others language. Literally and figuratively.

At one point I walked in and asked Ed (in English) how much longer it was going to take to finish the welding of our tow hitches. He shrugged his shoulders in frustration and pointed to Eduardo and went back to work. I then asked Eduardo (in Spanish) how much longer it would take to finish. He also shrugged his shoulders in frustration and pointed to Ed and went back to work. They both obviously felt it was taking too long and were frustrated by the other....

The other mechanics in the shop were telling me they had been in stitches all day, listening to Ed speak louder and slower when Eduardo was obviously not understanding his English.... "screw? SCREW? bolt? bolt? BOLT? oh nut you mean the nut..."

Well they are off and they are headed for a 4000 mile adventure to Guatemala to deliver the much needed equipment and supplies.

Visit www.bravefoundation.org for more information about their adventures....

What was he thinking?

We have really been enjoying this week of lovely weather, and the kids have been taking full advantage of playing outside as long as possible. On these days I take advantage of them being outside and this particular day in question I was actually making dinner. Diana came in to tattle on Dannan, our just-turned-7 year old, which happens regularly, but this time I was horrified to hear what he had done.

Apparently a little girl that Diana knows had come up into our cul-de-sac to play. Dannan happens to be very possessive of our little dog, especially where Diana and her friends are concerned, and this friend wouldn't hand over the pooch. He got really mad and hit her with his light saber hard enough to leave a welt on her leg. When she ran home crying he had the nerve to call out to her "That's right, run home, Chubby!" I was honestly flabbergasted that a child of mine would do something so cruel. This is not what we teach in our family!! So, I had Diana send him in and told him that this kind of behavior was by no means acceptable and (though I dreaded it myself) he was going to have to go apologize to her. He was putting up a fight about that, and crying with remorse as I turned to see an unfamiliar woman standing in my open doorway.

She was not small, and her face was beat red. I could see that she had come looking for retribution. She reminded me very much of an angry hen, all puffed up and ready to peck someone's eyes out! I didn't even give her a chance to speak (I hate confrontation) before launching into an apology and telling her that I had not been out there, but I was just getting ready to march my son down to her house to apologize. I could see a little of her angry hen look fade, and she seemed to deflate a bit. Actually I don't think she expected me to respond the way I did. Her response sounded like something she had already been prepared to yell, although it came out rather half-heartedly, and directed at Dannan, "Well, you hit her really hard, look, you made a welt! My girl is a little bigger than you and I've told her if you do something like that again she can swat you!" After a little more talk to Dannan on proper weapon protocol she introduced herself in a friendly way and we chatted for a minute. All this time I was secretly relieved because she hadn't said anything about the "Chubby" comment. Just as they started to walk off the girl who had been standing by her mother turned around and said "Oh yeah and when I was leaving they were all calling me Chubby!" Dang!! I called to Dannan who had gone upstairs crying, and feeling remorseful and especially sad that he had to come in for the day. He called down another apology, and then I had Anders who was there also apologize (he's 5). He said "I'm sorry, kind of". I couldn't have been more embarrassed by my children's behavior! He told me later "But Mom, it was true, she was Chubby." It's not easy to explain to Anders that even if it's true, it hurts people's feelings, and he should keep those kind of thoughts to himself. I still don't think he understands why he shouldn't just tell the truth.

Ahhhh! Back to school!

I just have to say how nice it is to have the kids back at school, and have a schedule imposed on me, instead of trying to keep it up all by myself! Of course by the end of the school year I'll be dying for a little freedom again. I love school supplies, new backpacks, and the feel of fall in the air. I'm excited for that first foggy morning that brings back poignant memories of someone yelling "BUS!", or trying to save my spot at the bus stop. I also remember very clearly learning to put my makeup on the bus in Jr. High. I was very skilled, ha ha ha!

This year Anders begins Kindergarten. At our school they have what they call a staggered start for Kindergarten, where on the first day of school the parents come in with their kids for an orientation, and then everyone goes home. The next day is placement testing, and the 3rd day the children actually ride the bus and attend a normal school (1/2) day. The orientation was an experience in itself. I left the house on time, and got there a few minutes early, even got a good parking spot. As I unload Anders and Lincoln, who had to tag along, I see that Anders is barefoot. Now he has gotten in trouble twice in the last week for getting in the car without shoes on. Shame on him, and shame on me for not checking! I was so mad! I got him back in the car and went home to get the shoes as quickly as was safe. I ended up being 5 minutes late.

The teacher is the same teacher Dannan had for Kindergarten, and she is wonderful, but the orientation was unbearably long. The teacher has been doing Kindergarten for at least 30 years, and tends to talk to everyone as if they are in Kindergarten. First the very old slide projector got jammed, and she had to insert the slides by hand, one by one (I was sitting on the floor for the whole slide show). There were 2 reels of slides, fortunately the second one worked properly. The slides were to show us what we could expect our children to be doing in Kindergarten. Honestly! I only went for the benefit of Anders, and even he was bored stiff! After 45 minutes of slides of Kindergarteners doing projects, we went through all the papers in the packet one by one. Lincoln kept saying "Mom, can we get OUT of here?!" We survived, though, and tomorrow Anders will begin to be a true Kindergartener. I can't wait, but I'll be checking to see that he has his shoes on!!

Comments

By the way, Jenny has brought to my attention that people actually comment on blogs, and I read everyone's today. Thank you! I enjoyed all of them! I will now be a comment junkie like Jenny! :)

Broken Bones

Well, with 4 boys, honestly, I have been so blessed in their health and divine protection, I can't complain. Up until this year the only broken bone we have had to deal with was Dannan's broken collar bone when he was 3, and he didn't seem to know it was broken, so it wasn't much of a problem. So, after 13 years of avoiding broken limbs, we have managed to have 2 kids with 3 broken arms in 3 months. I have to laugh at the irony!

At the end of May Adam and I were both at Woodbadge, a Boy Scout leadership training course, for the weekend. My saintly mother was willing to spend 2 weekends at my house to watch over the kids so I could go have this experience with Adam. The course started on a Thursday, and on Thursday night Adam spoke with Mom, who reported that while Dannan was at school he jumped or fell off the Big Toy and possibly broke both his arms. They weren't too swollen, and with a little Motrin, he seemed to be doing fine, but she had put them in a sling and tried to keep him fairly still. At some point the next day he forgot about his possibly broken arms and climbed the 6 foot fence in our yard. When he fell off, and tried to catch himself with his hands--well, he remembered his injuries! He went into shock, a little, and it wasn't too hard to keep him off the fence after that.

Fortunately Dannan only had compression fractures, meaning the bones were more squished together than cracked. His blue and green casts caught him quite a bit of attention over the 3 weeks that he had to wear them, and didn't stop him from doing much. That was 3 months ago.

Yesterday, while my sister Annie was visiting (or rather stranded at my house while her car was being repaired), Kenyan, the oldest came in making a strange noise. There were 8 kids in and out of the house, and a TV going, so it took me a minute to figure out where in the world that sound was coming from. I looked at Kenyan stumbling across the Living Room making an odd squealing that I finally recognized as "Kenyan's severe pain alert." His face was kind of a grayish color, and he said he thought he broke his arm. Kenyan is the King of Tuck and Roll, which is probably why he hasn't broken his arm before this. I asked him why he didn't tuck and roll this time, and he reported that he had been jumping his bike off a ramp, over some other bikes, and the back tire caught one of the other bikes. The bike was coming at his head, so he couldn't roll like usual. To make a long story short, he did have a broken arm, and after hours in waiting rooms, came home in a splint. It's his right arm, and just before school starts. I have to wonder, did he plan this????

Blog

 
 

It has been brought to my attention that I have been overlooking my best source for blog ammo--my 4 sons. I suppose that their adventures have become so commonplace for me, that I fail to see their entertainment value, or maybe I just don't want to sound like I'm complaining about my life. To set the record straight, before I begin sharing these stories, it is not my intent to complain or be a martyr in any way.

 
 

For example, bed-time at our house is not always easy, and I have been known to put it off from time to time (Yeah, ok, most of the time). My neighbor, Mindi, still laughs when she tells of the evening she looked out her upstairs window at about 9:30 (this is mid-summer, by the way) just in time to see my 3 youngest boys (6,5 and 3) stealthily climbing out the dining room window (totally against the rules) armed with butter knives in each hand. She was so intrigued that she followed their progress to another window and watched as they sneaked across the neighbors' lawns Scooby and Shaggy style, then disappeared behind the "Freaky House" (This is a very nice, never-occupied house in our cul-de-sac . Why they call it the Freaky house, I have no idea.) Mindi says it was only moments before they were running back, pell-mell. Whatever brave action they had planned with the butter-knives was lost in the terror of whatever had spooked them. They ran right past the front door as if we didn't have one, and tumbled back in through the dining room window as fast as they could! They had been watching that "one last movie" before I read stories and tucked them in, and decided to go exploring.

 
 

Another little tale is Dannan and the Suburban window. The boys were playing outside with a few big, flat cardboard boxes while I folded laundry upstairs. Dannan had decided to use one of the boxes for "knife throwing" target practice with Adam's metal file, by laying it down on the ground right behind the Suburban. I heard Dannan come hollering into the house "I'm dead! I'm dead! Dad's going to kill me!" he sounded like he really believed it. I went downstairs feeling a little sick, thinking he must have killed the puppy or something. I found him turning in circles, wringing his hands and repeating his fears that his life was over. I think he was on the verge of hyperventilating. I finally got him to say "the window!" and convinced him to show me what happened. I came outside to find the back window of our Suburban shattered all over the garage and driveway. Honestly, I was so relieved that the puppy was still alive, and he was punishing himself so much already, that I found it fairly easy to stay calm while we swept up the glass. Fortunately the insurance covered most of the cost, and it was repaired easily. Dannan has hopefully learned to be more careful with tools around the car.

 
 

Maybe I don't tell these stories because they damage my image as a mother! Hmmm!

Our New Baby!

If you don't know, don't have a cow,
we have another baby now.
He has 4 legs and fluffy fur
He's here to stay, that's for sure.
His name is Maxx, sometimes he barks,
He enjoys playing in the park.
His training takes a lot of work,
It's not a thing that One can shirk.
Little people challenge me,
taking him out of bed when he
barks and whines, then he learns
this behavior can earn
him freedom. But we're pushing through,
giving up we just won't do!
I'll post a pic before too long,
you can see how we're getting on.