The pretty butterfly

It's official. My three year old hates her hand-made costume for the Harvest Party tonight. I showed it to her yesterday and she looked at it and said "yucky". Mind you, this is the same little person who kept bugging me to make her a butterfly. Making this costume involved three trips to the fabric store, one trip to the hardware store and many late night hours working on this. I've made costumes for my boys the first 5 or 6 years of their lives. We only had one cow incident. I'm telling my husband about her refusal to wear my handiwork. And he says (this is good) "We'll just tell her she can't get candy unless she wears the costume!" Oh- brilliant! Why didn't I think of that?? That will definitely work on a 3 year-old. We'll just confiscate all the candy she gets playing games tonight.

I'm not sure what I'll do with the costume. Maybe I should enshrine it as an example of hard work gone awry. Maybe I should sell it on ebay. I'm sure as soon as I get rid of it, she'll ask where it is.

The numbing effect

Today I had to brave a dentist appointment. I don't mind a good teeth cleaning, but today I had to get fillings down near my gums because the root was becoming exposed. After swabbing the surface to make it numb, I had 4 shots to numb the entire right side of my mouth and jaw. You forget how much you need your tongue when you're trying to swallow without using it. After grinding the teeth with a little buzz saw, he gave me a break and let me spit (which just dribbled down my chin and onto my pants. Remember Kramer after his dentist appointment?) So they put everything back in place and start on the bottom. Immediately I felt pain shoot down my jaw and neck. Everything comes back off and another shot to numb that one stubborn nerve. Have you ever seen that movie "Dumb Luck" with Martin Short? He's allergic to bee stings and happened to get stung while in a small plane. The camera pans over to him and his entire face has swelled! It's the most hilarious thing because you aren't expecting this giant balloon face.
That's what I feel like. My sister said I was talking normal, but it feels like I have something hanging off my face. Half of my tongue is numb, too. THAT'S a weird feeling. I wonder if this is what Botox injections feel like? I'd rather have thin lips.

The gang's all here!

As if having 2 kids with messes to clean up wasn't enough, the third got in on the act. I was sitting on the couch reading to the boys (we took the day off from "real" schoolwork!) and Egypt came into the room with an obvious odor. I asked her to please go upstairs to get a diaper. She obliged and went up to her room. A minute later, she comes back down the stairs, completely naked, holding her dirty clothes and a new diaper! What a thinker! So I go back upstairs with her and realize it's not just regular poop. It's diarrhea! She actually did a pretty good job cleaning herself up, but decided a bath was the best way to get all the gunk. Luckily, all three of my kids took naps today. Hallelujah!

Where's the plastic tarp?

It was one of those nights. Holland was up in the middle of the night again, roaming the house. There was a half empty glass of milk downstairs and he woke me up to tell me he was wet. But he wasn't just wet, my bedroom floor was wet, too. In his half-asleep stupor, he had taken off the pull-up and laid back down on the floor to sleep. So we got him back in another pull-up and back into bed (with me so I could monitor his sleep). After my shower, I tried to wake him up for school. I turned on the tv, shook him gently and talked to him. Nothing. Ok. Not going to school today.

I was on the computer checking email when Romania came downstairs. He had on his bathrobe and something orange smeared down the sleeve. We went upstairs to investigate. Sure enough, he had thrown up on his bed in the middle of the night. Didn't even wake up. So, now I have a wet floor and a vomit filled comforter. So far this morning, I've played Uno, Sorry and done 3 loads of pukey laundry. Can the day be over yet, please?

The Science Museum Experience

Today I took my two youngest to a science museum in our area. I had planned to meet a friend from a homeschooling co-op, but she had an ear infection and her daughter had "junk" coming out of her nose. We're rescheduling.
But I had already told mine we were going, so on we trooped. For anyone with more than one kid, you know how taxing it can be to watch two kids who want to go in different directions. One wants to play in the ball area and the other wants to play in the sand. Unfortunately, these two activities aren't even on the same floor. When we got to the second activity, my son was already getting bored. But he roamed around the younger kid area and found something to crawl in and some fake acorns. Actually, he found "someone else's" acorns. He walked up to a little boy (probably around 2) who had a bunch of these rubber acorns stashed in this fake tree stump. Now you have to understand, these kinds of places are like open territory for any object, inanimate or otherwise. Just because you're playing with it, doesn't mean that someone else won't come along and claim it. Which is no big deal to me. I've seen enough interaction among my own three to know that nothing is sacred and everything must be shared. So, when my son took several of them, the little boy's father said (mostly for my benefit, I'm sure), "I agree, he should have asked you to use your acorns". I had to just laugh in my head. Obviously this guy was only parenting ONE kid. Otherwise he would have realized the insanity of his comment. Since when does anything belong to one kid. Even if you gave it to one child, you can bet that all the others (and even some neighbor friends, if you're lucky) will lay claim to it at least once.

I kind of felt sorry for the guy. Even after his kid socked my daughter in the arm for doing the same thing my kid did to his. I didn't even say anything. Just directed her to something else. But how sad that his son may never know the joy of sharing with a sibling. It's not easy raising kids. But I would hope that we're all sane enough to know that kids are a work in progress. That's why they're the kids and we're the parents. (I am reminded of this when my oldest yells at me and calls me 'bossy'. "Hey, just doin' my job").

All in all, it was successful. No one came home bleeding and we didn't leave with anyone screaming. Score one for mom!

The Rokenbok Dilemma

If you don't know what this is, it's a very cool remote control toy. Lots of ways to set up to lift, pour, scoop, transport. Different kinds of vehicles to operate, a monorail system. A creative kid's dream come true. So when we had failed to get Holland on a bathroom schedule, the Rokenbok toy popped to mind. Of course it didn't help that his father had left the basement open where it was stored for Christmas. Or that he never covered it up. (I forget, are our kids blind?) Or that he couldn't just say we were storing it for our cousins. (A tip for new parents: be quick on your feet. Be able to think AHEAD of your child) He became so obsessed with it, I couldn't see me surviving until Christmas. So it was decided that he could earn parts of the Rokenbok for a successful stretch of ten days for staying on his bathroom schedule.

It might as well have been 10 years. He complained; he yelled; he refused to sit; he fibbed about sitting; he said he was bored; he said he didn't have to go; he said it was stupid. Get the picture? I even replaced the cold, hard toilet seat with a nice soft, cushy seat. So when the 11 days were up (I added another day in for poor attitude), he was very excited. I even had one of his cousins help me decide which pieces to give him. We bought a huge assortment off of Craigslist. (Romania called it "dad's list" thinking it was his father's). We're all excited about the accomplishment. He played with it for 2 days. He also hooked it up to anything else electronic with extra holes. Two days after earning this, he informs me that "You can keep the rest of the Rokenbok until Christmas". I asked why? "I don't want to do the 5 minute schedule anymore." Wow. So the prospect of a new toy doesn't motivate him enough to just sit for 5 minutes.

the one about the fish

I was telling someone this story about my son's fish that ended up on the floor. She asked if I'd thought about writing a blog.
I asked "what on earth for?'"
"You have so many stories that are funny"
Well, not many people have read my stories, but it sure is nice to write things down. Then you can look back and laugh at all the crazy things that happen on a daily basis.

Take the fish. Holland was at school and I was downstairs with Romania working on school. Egypt was upstairs, up to her usual no-good. I heard noises, but it sounded like she had dropped books. I didn't think twice (first mistake) and continued working on school (second mistake). About an hour goes by and Holland comes back from school and is upstairs getting ready for a doctor appointment. I'm on my way upstairs and he comes running down, "the fish is in the sink! I've put water in there!"
"what??"
"I found my fish on the floor, water everywhere and I put him in the sink"
I ran upstairs to find, yes, a betta fish in the bathroom sink with water running. First thought is this thing has to be dead. I figured hot water was running all over him. As if the trauma of flopping around on the floor wasn't enough, he was being tortured with tap water. As all this is going on, my mom walks in the front door as I'm yelling to get the fish net and the drops to neutralize the water so the poor thing doesn't die. No one was paying attention. They were too happy to see gramma!

I figured out that Egypt had tried to pick up a very heavy fish bowl and dropped it. I never figured out how it survived. There was no water in the bowl - it was all over the floor, and the bed, and the big stuffed horse. Tiny little fish rocks everywhere.

The fish survived. I have no idea how. He belongs on some fish survival reality show. He's like Nemo, finding his way back home. Doing all he can to survive, so Egypt can feed him pieces of bread and cat food. I keep rotating the fish bowls so she can't find them. Romania had a frog last year. He only lasted a week. I wonder if Egypt had something to do with that....

I guess when you have kids, you have to expect the fish to put up with a lot.

Doctor, Doctor

We are now more than half way done with all the doctor visits before we see the surgeon in December. Holland was recently diagnosed with Spina Bifida. It's been a whirlwind diagnosis. He had an x-ray at our pediatrician's office because he had been so constipated. This has been an ongoing problem. We thought it was just from all the meds he's on to treat his bipolar, but it's not clearing up. My very thorough ped. doc sent the x-ray to a radiologist who confirmed her suspicion: spina bifida occulta (which means "hidden" in latin.) He doesn't have all the outward signs of the more serious spina bifida. It's also possible he has tethered cord. That's what all these doctor appointments are for. He's had an MRI, another x-ray, an abdominal scan, seen a GI doctor. It's exhausting just listing them all. We also see a LCSW every week, a chiropractor once a month and a psychiatrist once a month to monitor his meds. We have to see a Urologist to rule out kidney and bladder problems.
Sometimes I wonder why he was given so many things to deal with. It must be because God has some great plan for him to minister to someone. One day, one person will be so affected by all that he's gone through, that that person will turn his life over to Christ. I so want this to be glorifying to God. He has so many things going against him; but he has the most important thing going for him: God's love and committment to him as His child.

the birthday girl and wilbur

The birthday

Today I had 2 girls over to celebrate Egypt's 3rd birthday. Her actual birthday is next Tuesday, but I thought it would be fun to have some friends over. A real guest list! She looked like a big rock. She sat there looking at her butterfly sugar cookie. The other girls both went to town frosting their cookies. She did eventually go up to her room and showed the other girls her animals and books. So, all in all it was successful. She got a little pink pig that oinks and moves its nose. She calls him "Wilbur". Her favorite movie is "Charlotte's Web", so it's very fitting! I see qualities of care-giving. She will be a good mom someday.

The new bed

We set up a new bed for H. the other day. We got this great (free!) wooden bunk bed, complete with two mattresses, no less. We actually got it this summer, but weren't ready to switch the 2 1/2 year old to a twin bed yet. I like my sleep, so keeping her in the crib was for my benefit, not hers! She could crawl out, but rarely did. She just yells at the top of her lungs "help me! help me!". You'd think some huge bug was ready to crawl into bed with her. So, the bunks stayed hidden in the basement until we (meaning I) were ready to deal with one more kid who could get out of bed at 2 a.m. The other night, hubby took apart H's bed and transferred it to our daughter's room. Why aren't doorways wider? He slept on the floor a few nights, which is nothing to him. He's been making his sleeping arrangments in his closet. We've emptied his room. Mostly because I'm so sick of stepping on a gazillion toys in the dark. So, he crammed a big pillow and a sleeping bag, a giant stuffed horse and he was set. Now he's on a mattress on the floor and lovin' it.

Mr. Holland loves to invent things

He loves to try to make something new out of something old. He took apart a ViewMaster and tried to attach something else to make it battery operated. Sounds so creative, doesn't it? Until he does that with things like computers, DVD players, hand held video games and a new Rokenbok toy.

He's on medication to help him sleep. Prior to this, it was a battle of the wills. I almost always lost. He would just NOT go to sleep. It could take 3 or 4 hours for him to settle and fall asleep. It made me nuts because I was exhausted by this time and just wanted to crawl in bed myself.
Aparently, the meds wear off after a certain amount of time. Wouldn't this have been useful information prior to giving him this? It helps them fall asleep, but what they don't tell you is it wears off. Be prepared to wake up at 4, they should have told me. So, he's on a med that wears off and I'm aware of lights on downstairs. As I'm bumping into walls, I keep finding evidence of his presence. Half-empty milk glasses, crackers on the computer table, an attempt to access the internet (I had to lock it with a password because, even tho' the guy can't read, he could figure out how to navigate through websites. scary stuff). Then I see the cords everywhere. An opened portable DVD player with wires and the 2 screens. Cords from tv video games plugged into the tv AND the DVD player. He's also managed to lug down this toy called Rokenbok. It's this remote controlled series of toys that do cool things like dump and pick up and transfer. It's a creative kid's dream come true. Only now it's hooked up to all those other items. He's asleep on the couch. The attempt to build a new X-box (yup, that's what he told me) has worn him to a frazzle and he fell asleep.

Maybe tomorrow he'll invent something really cool.

The Run-Down Family

I use that title because doesn't it feel like that sometimes? Some days I feel like a Mack truck hit me. Here's the low-down on our family:

I've been married to the same man (incredible, I know) for 16 years. We have 3 children; two boys and a girl. Each of their stories is different, and yet each one is an amazing gift from the Creator.

We had been married for several years and I was teaching at a Deaf School. Our attempts to start a family were unsuccessful, so we turned our attention to adoption. During spring break of 1999, we flew down to San Diego to pick up our new little son. My students had a huge shock when I didn't come back from the break, but instead showed up with a newborn to show-off.
(Some of my students never let me live that one down. "Why didn't you tell us??" "You abandoned us!", etc, etc.) Did I mention they were dramatic middle schoolers?? But, when you're dealing with infertility and all the emotions that go along with it, you become very guarded as to what you share with people. My teaching career ended and motherhood began. It was an easy transition for me. I loved being at home with him. He was a very sweet baby and I was in love.

Fast forward 2 years later. Son #2 comes along. And not in the same manner as before. Shock of all shocks, we got pregnant. I know, I know. You're saying "I've heard that so many times. People always get pregnant right after they adopt". Here's my sarcasm: It had nothing to do with adopting first. It had everything to do with trusting God's timing. I was actually at peace that I wasn't going to have biological children. And like Emeril Lagasse says "Bam!" Got pregnant without the aid of any drugs, in-vitro, etc. He was truly a miracle. A 9 pound, 14 ounce miracle.

Here's where husband informs me that we are done. (Hard thing to wrap your brain around when YOU'RE not done). So, we adjusted to life with two and went on our merry way. What do you think happens next? That's right. Pregnant again. We're talking, I used no birth control our first like 5 years of marriage. Funny how that happens. You've got your whole life planned out and then God steps in and says "Whoa, there Nelly". (insert horse neighs here)

In the midst of all this, our oldest son was having trouble in social situations. Picture being kicked out of a private preschool because your 3 year-old cannot control himself. I was called back to school so many times to come pick him up because they couldn't control him. So, many years and doctors later, we find out he's Bipolar and possibly FASD (fetal alcohol spectrum disorder). So, basically, I'm going to be writing about my daily life with a bipolar son and all the chaos that ensues. Hope you come along for the ride.

Ugly templates

Why are all the templates for blogs so ugly? I searched and searched (it's now 12.32 am) and I'm sick of looking, so white it is. Plus, hubby is upstairs snoring and I can't sleep. More on that problem later.

"Postcards from Holland" refers to the writing by Emily Perl Kingsley titled "Welcome to Holland" about raising a child with disabilities. (Check out her piece here: http://www.our-kids.org/Archives/Holland.html) We have three lovely children, all with their special idiosyncracies. Since we moved to "Holland", we also have two other children; Romania and Egypt. So you see we are basically the United Nations living under one roof.

Since it's so late (or early depending on what time zone you're in), I'm going to bed to listen to more snoring and figure out how I'm going to get up to get a kid on the bus and two more out the door for homeschooling co-op. Wish me luck!